#most people would be more confident and thus less disgusted by certain things if they just understood them better

[sharkface]

Food service worker diagnosis

#talk #Mold is safe to remove in some instances but not most any building with unhygienic practices in one corner has it in the kitchen too #You get given food by strangers any time you go to a restaurant it is not the concept of a person you don't know that unnerves you it is a #lack of regulation and confirmed compliance to safety standards #Which is why everywhere is legally required to have their safety score framed in a place visible to customers #Which btw speaking as a food service worker anything under an 85 veers into serious risk territory because restaurants are stricter on #Inspection days. So really you want to be subtracting 5-10 points from any given rating and judging based on that. #Like I'm not saying high levels of disgust boil down to a lack of exposure to the reality of food service and distribution but I do think #most people would be more confident and thus less disgusted by certain things if they just understood them better #Hence my previous post.

[vrishchikawrites]

LAN XICHEN AND JIANG CHENG:

JC stans want Jiang Cheng to end up with Lan Xichen because he is the First Jade of Lan, while Lan Wangji, who is Wei Wuxian’s husband, is only Second. For once in his miserable life, Jiang Cheng will get the better end of the deal than Wei Wuxian, right? But the thing is, as far as the narrative goes, nobody can beat Hanguang-jun other than Wei Wuxian- his own brother included. We are repeatedly given evidence that Lan Wangji is stronger than Lan Xichen, is more of an expert at the guqin than Lan Xichen, is more skilled in Clan Techniques than Lan Xichen, is more righteous than Lan Xichen, etc. etc. Nobody but Lan Wangji could have survived the 33 whip lashes, fought 33 well-trained Elders while also protecting his dying beloved, undertaken dangerous night hunts in desolate areas with no expectations of repayment, and end up Hanguang-jun. When one hears of the name ‘Lan’, one thinks of Hanguang-jun, Lan Wangji, the Second Jade of Lan, and then, Lan Xichen, his brother, the First Jade. Lan Wangji did have more freedom than Lan Xichen, but it is not that much more, and thus we can attribute his values and his morals as his own. Where does Xicheng come in? We know that Jiang Cheng does not care about pesky qualities such as honour or integrity, to say nothing of his homophobic tendencies, but if he were to become a “disgusting” cut-sleeve, he would not settle for anything but the best, which Lan Xichen is not. Jiang Cheng is also extremely jealous and vindicative, easy to offend and anger, and can absolutely never handle being below anyone. Lan Xichen might not be as talented as his brother, but he is still leagues better than the “Wielder Of His Own Damn Sword”, Jiang-Zhongzu. They would not mesh well together. But we know all this. Let us talk about Lan Xichen. Rulers should be good to their people and their primary strength should lie in being able to detach themselves from their personal feelings in kingdom-related matters and take a professional approach. In the book’s context, a Sect Leader should be cold and practical in the matters involving the Sect. Jiang Fengmian fails to do this with his wife, and ends up getting most of his Sect killed due to his cowardice. Lan Xichen does this with A-Yao. As Sect Leader, Lan Xichen’s warmth causes less diplomatic incidents, since he is good with pacifying and mollifying prickly Sect Heads, but he can be easily swayed by weakness, real or feigned, and such beliefs work to his disadvantage. One more thing I would like to point out is that Lan Wangji, after losing the love of his life and being whipped 33 times (with a Spiritual Weapon) for treason, only remained in seclusion long enough to heal his body. If he could function in such a painful situation, all the while caring for an orphaned child and watching his brother happily interact with the person most responsible for, why could not Lan Xichen? He wasn’t even physically impaired! Oh boo-hoo, my most trusted friend of 20 years betrayed me and killed my Sworn Brother? Yes! Yes, he did, and it was a most traumatising thing to do, but he did not do it without your own help and encouragement! It is not Lan Xichen’s fault for being taken by a Master Manipulator, of course, but it is his fault for being passive and taking the easy way out 2/3 times in order not to upset his Sworn Brothers and the rest of the elitist Cultivation World! There are metas that state that once Lan Xichen is given confirmation of ill-will and misdeeds, he does not hesitate to choose the path of righteousness and conviction, but it is the time that he takes to obtain such confirmations is what irks me. He makes no moves of his own, does not go out of his way to investigate events he himself was suspicious about until his brother encourages (read: forces by showing unignorable evidence) him to, and spends most of his time after the Siege sitting on his hands (other than rebuilding his Sect, I will give him that) and entertaining A-Yao! *Sigh* This is quite a cruel take on him, and if we view him through the same lens we do

our favourite characters many of his faults will fizzle out quickly, but I just think he should not be let off as scott-free as he currently is being let. If I have misunderstood something, or mentioned anything wrong, please do not hesitate to correct me! It will help with my understanding of his character and help me write better fics.

Dee - This was a submission not an ask - my reply under the cut off

I try not to say much about LXC and maintain a neutral POV on him because he is, from what I read in the novel, a good character. Not perfect and certainly not as wise as he's often made out to be, but good. Honestly, to me he comes across as someone who is somewhat naive, unaware of his own prejudices, but willing to pursue the truth when prompted. He also seems to be a bit stubborn and is very confident in his own judgment. I believe all of that can be attributed to the fact that he's a Sect Heir and a Sect Leader later. He needs to have that solid belief in his judgment to lead.

To me, LWJ and LXC present interesting parallels. Both loved (platonic in LXC's case, love is love) people from lower social classes, both were confronted with somewhat unsavory characteristics. The parallels are very striking, tbh.

LWJ loved a morally strong man - LXC loved a morally weak one.

LWJ's love for WWX enlightened him - LXC's love for JGY blinded him.

LWJ took WWX to task on every mistake - LXC covered up or made excuses for JGY's red flags.

WWX's taught LWJ to challenge and question everything - JGY taught LXC to trust blindly and accept excuses.

LWJ learned to fight, even if it meant disrupting peace - LXC learned to look the other way in order to maintain peace.

It wasn't until LXC was pushed by LWJ and WWX that he took action but he still took action. Arguably, it would've been just as painful for LXC to suspect JGY as it would've been LWJ to suspect WWX. When you love someone and their character sinks to the gutter, the hurt is immeasurable. It is nearly the worst betrayal you can face. I don't blame LXC for wanting to avoid it.

Also, LXC had a lot of reasons to act the way he did. As readers, we have the benefit of hindsight but when people are confronted with difficult situations and insufficient information, they act differently. So yeah, it is a bit dissatisfying that he doesn't get called out for some of this foolishness, but honestly, it is a minor thing.

As for LXC and JC, I agree. It is definitely a way to one-up WWX with the 'better' Lan. We don't really know how skilled LXC is and how he can stand against LWJ or WWX. I'm rather certain he's stronger than JC at any rate. JGY was able to fight and defeat JC but he had to trick both LXC and LWJ into sealing their powers. His cultivation is strong. He's just not as sharp and intelligent as LWJ and WWX are but they're exceptional.

#submission #anti jiang cheng

[ouyangzizhensdad]

So one thing I am confused about. I see a lot of takes on how Wwx acted like a gay stereotype in the first few chapters. And this is pointed out as a mark of his homophobia (as in he's homophobic because he thinks that's how a gay person would act). But, from context of the book, it seems to me he's weaponizing what *society* will think a gay man would act like to get out of what he views as a dangerous situation? As in, to me he's deliberately playing up stereotypes... (1/2)

(2/2) to make people uncomfortable and leave him alone. This isn't to say he's not internalized some stuff. Working through those feelings is a major part of the book. But it feels like people seem to be missing the fact that he's using how people are uncomfortable with Mxy as a means to get out of what he sees as a tight situation. Rather like how we get a woman using 'lady problems' as an excuse to make men uncomfortable and leave her alone. Or am I completely of the mark?

Oh anon, dear anon, how did you know I’ve been meaning to write a post about this since I’ve first been introduced to these takes? Have you taken a trip to the dark recesses of my mind lately (or maybe spied on my drafts)? 

Before we get started, I do want to address the fact that the ExR translation, which is generally how international fans first access the novel, uses terms/ways of phrasing things about cut-sleeves that make it seem more connoted than what you can see in the original chinese, thereby colouring how we may perceive WWX’s opinions on cutsleeves (since he is the narrator). If you compare pumpkinpaix’s translation of chapter 2 to that of ExR’s, you may understand what I mean (I personally went and checked the original with my limited chinese skills and pumpkinpaix’s is the most faithful translation imo).

Compare and contrast: 

Pumpkinpaix’s translation: “Thank goodness, this body had not been born with a strange appearance, only strange tastes. Here was a grown man who not only wore a full face of rouge and powder, but wore it in such an ugly fashion!“

ExR scans’ translation: “Fortunately, the body wasn’t born this way—it was only one of the owner’s penchants. He was no-doubt a man, yet he was covered with makeup (not to mention, badly applied makeup). Ugh, how unbearable!“

And another: 

Pumpkinpaix’s translation: “Not only chased, but banished with great shame: for Mo Xuanyu was a cutsleeve who even dared to recklessly molest and harass his peers. With this public scandal, along with the mediocrity of his talent and the insignificance of his cultivation progress, there was no reason to let him stay in the family any longer.

To make matters worse, no one knew what kind of shock he’d suffered, but after he returned, he seemed to have gone completely mad. He had good days and bad—it was as if he had been scared witless. After reading to this point, Wei Wuxian furrowed his brow. Being just a cutsleeve was one thing, but a lunatic as well! No wonder his face was all covered in powder and rouge like an old hanged ghost, and no wonder no one found the bloody array surprising.”

ExR scans’ translation: “On top of that, he was driven back shamefully.Mo XuanYu was homosexual, and had enough nerve to harass the other disciples. The scandal was revealed to the public and, as he had few achievements in terms of cultivation, there were no reasons for him to stay in the clan.Like adding frost to snow, aside from the event itself, when Mo XuanYu returned, he often behaved in a crazy manner, almost as if his life was scared out of him.The story was almost too complex to be put into words. Wei WuXian’s eyebrows twitched.Not only a lunatic, a homosexual lunatic as well. That explained why there were enough rouge and powder on his face to make him look like a hanged ghost, and also why nobody was surprised at the large, bloody array on the ground.”

See how the latter translation makes it seem as if WWX were thinking that being a gay lunatic is worse than being a lunatic, and that him being a ‘gay lunatic’ explains his appearance; whereas, in the former, it appears to be more of a comment about how MXY was perceived by his family as a disgrace, and underlines that the fact he is a “lunatic” explains how ‘usual’ his appearance and the shack’s disarray were to his cousin and his lackeys.

But to address your actual point, I think saying that WWX weaponizes what society think of how a gay would act is still an oversimplification. WWX is in fact weaponizing the very specific nature of MXY’s reputation, which includes him being known to be:

a lunatic

a cutsleeve

a molester/harasser

The fact that people even suggest that this is how WWX views gay people is ludicrous to me because of the context in which it is presented in the novel. WWX is not trying to “pass” as MXY by attempting what he believes to be an authentic performance of being a gay man. WWX, from the get-go, acts in public in ways that are incompatible with what he knows of MXY. When he first gets out of the shack, he acts in ways he knows are contrary to how MXY would have acted. 

“Thinking to recover the face he’d [A-Tong] just lost, he jumped over and, like one would reprimand a dog, waved his hand and scolded, “Shoo, shoo! Go back! What did you come out for!”

Even towards a beggar or a fly, one wouldn’t be more unpleasant. These servants had very likely acted like this towards Mo Xuanyu in the past. After all, he never resisted, so they could be this unscrupulously reckless. Wei Wuxian, with a light kick, knocked A’Tong head over heels, laughing, “Now, who is it you think you’re insulting?”

Finished kicking, he followed the sound of the hubbub, walking towards the east.“ [Chapter 3 ]

Instead, WWX weaponizes MXY’s reputation (the trifecta of lunatic-cutsleeve-harasser) whenever he needs it to either 1) get the information he needs/test a theory, 2) manipulate people into certain actions 3) quickly get out of a sticky situation. Again, it is not meant to be an authentic representation of what he believes to be a gay man: it is a targeted attack with expected results. 

Let’s take for instance the East Hall Scene at Mo Mansion. WWX goes there, and slips into a lunatic persona which, from what we can infer by the Mo Family’s reaction, is not even a close performance of MXY’s “lunacy”. At this point, WWX is trying to test out if publicly humiliating the Mo Family will be enough to fulfill his part of the contract MXY forced upon him. It is the first time he brings up MXY’s being a cutsleeve, and he does so in the process of trying to cause disgrace by implying his cousin might not have had pure intentions towards him. The text makes it clear that he is only doing so to attack the Mo Family’s face, implying unspeakable designs upon MXY by his cousin. 

Unexpectedly, Wei Wuxian spoke again, “Speaking of, he not only shouldn’t have stolen my things, he really shouldn’t have gone to steal them in the middle of the night. Who doesn’t know, this son here likes men! He might not know shame, but I know not to tie my shoes in a melon patch!”

Madam Mo gasped in horror, shouting, “What are you saying in front of your village elders! How  can you have so little face; A’Yuan is your younger cousin!”

When it came to wild displays of atrocious behavior, Wei Wuxian was a master. In the past when he ran wild, he still had to mind appearances for he couldn’t let others accuse him of having no family upbringing, but now since he was a lunatic anyways, what face did he need! He could go straight to making a scene, acting on whatever pleased him. He straightened his neck and stated with righteous confidence, “He clearly knows he’s my younger cousin, and he still didn’t try to avoid arousing suspicion—exactly who has less face?! If you don’t want any, fine, but don’t spoil my innocence! I still want to find a good man!!!” [Chapter 3]

It is also important to remember MXY’s reputation as a molester/harrasser, which WWX leans into at certain points in the novel (for instance when he gets ‘caught’ trying to steal LWJ’s seal to exit the Cloud Recesses and pretends to have been spying on him bathing to try to get kicked out instead). I do not consider that WWX actually believes at face-value the accusations; like LWJ, he is wary of judging without having all the information, having himself suffered groundless accusations (and, surprise surprise, it turns out the accusations were fabricated by JGY! btw, for all the people out there who say MXTX is homophobic because she wrote a gay character who’s a molester...... i am begging you to get some reading comprehension, even store-bought is fine at this point). And if people think MXTX did not mean to emphasize the importance of that reputation, I ask them to please pay attention to what is said before WWZ implies JC is trying to flirt with him/flirts with LWJ later on in the novel (in front, as well, of many of the Juniors). Notice how we are getting the trifecta again?: 

Even after thinking it over multiple times, Jiang Cheng still couldn’t accept the fact [that Zidian had not worked]. He pointed at Wei Wuxian and scowled, “Who on Earth are you?”

Finally, a meddlesome bystander added a word to the conversation. He coughed, “Jiang-zongzhu, you might have not paid attention to these things and thus remained unaware. Mo Xuanyu was part the LanlingJin Sect’s… Ahem, he used to be a foreign disciple of the Jin Sect. But, because his spiritual powers were low and he didn’t work hard in his studies, and also had that… He harassed a peer and was thrown out of the LanlingJin Sect. I’ve also heard that he lost his marbles? In my opinion, he was probably bitter from being unable to cultivate using the correct path and ventured off onto the wrong one.”

Jiang Cheng asked, “That? What do you mean?” 

“That… As in that…” 

Someone couldn’t help but comment, “The cut-sleeve penchant!” 

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows twitched. His eyes which stared at Wei Wuxian seemed more disgusted than before. [Chapter 9]

The text also makes it clear that WWX is drawing upon more than just “Eww gay!” when he’s weaponizing MXY’s reputation to try to get away from JC and LWJ. He’s also thinking about JC’ inferiority complex and LWJ’s (perceived) serious nature. 

“Then,” Jiang Cheng replied coldly, “why is Lan-er-gongzi going to such great lengths to protect an unimportant person such as him?”

Out of the blue, Wei Wuxian suppressed laughter could be heard.

“Jiang-zongzhu, umm, I’ll feel very troubled if you keep on bothering me like this.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrow twitched again. His instincts told him that this person would definitely not say anything pleasant next.

"Thank you for being so enthusiastic, but your thoughts are quite off. Even though I am attracted to men, I don’t like just any type of man, much less follow anyone who waves at me. I’m not interested in men like you.”

Wei Wuxian was purposely trying to disgust him. Jiang Cheng had always hated being defeated when compared with others, no matter how pointless the comparison was. If anyone said that he was not as good as someone else, he’d get angered and not think about anything else until he won against them. As expected, Jiang Cheng’s face darkened.

“Oh, really? Then, may I ask which type you’re interested in?

“Which type?” he replied, “Well, I am very much attracted to people like Hanguang-jun.” 

Lan Wangji could not tolerate this sort of frivolous and foolish joke at all. If he felt disgusted, he would definitely draw a line between them and keep his distance. Disgusting two people at once—this was killing two birds with one stone!” [Chapter 9]

I won’t go through all the examples and moments in the novel (even in forced-voluntary self-isolation it is too much to ask out of me), but I hope my point was illustrated well enough with just these! Thank you again for your ask, it forced me to finally write it all down!

#mdzs meta #mdzs #anti-mxtx discourse #wwx #mxy #lwj #Anonymous #long post

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Day 1 Birthday Plot Bunnies 2

If you want this to become my next WIP, be sure to shower it with lots of love!!  🥰 💖 All the story starters will be linked back to this masterpost. 

Title: Heart of the Mountain

Summary: What if Thror wasn’t mad like everyone thought? What if the Arkenstone was truly at fault? Questions Bilbo and Thorin will have to answer together after Bilbo is swallowed by the gem. Bilbo and Thorin must work together to conquer the magic of the Arkenstone while Bilbo is invisible and forgotten by the others without making Thorin look as insane as his grandfather. Also, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to maybe work out why exactly the Arkenstone considered Bilbo, Thorin’s heart as well.

He did it. By the skin of his teeth and the hair on his feet, if Smaug had anything to say about it. Still, Bilbo did it. He had successfully burgled the Arkenstone from a fire-breathing dragon. Returning it to its rightful owner would be another matter entirely. For one thing, said fire-breathing dragon was nipping at their heels. For another, Bilbo feared for the true King Under the Mountain. What if Smaug was right, and the stone really did possess some sort of adverse effect on Thorin? 

It was quite a while later before Bilbo was able to truly stew on these thoughts. After their escape through the mountain failing in ending Smaug’s life. After he fled to exact revenge on a human town that did not deserve such burning fury. After the dragon fell into the lake never to rise again. Bilbo turned back to gauge Thorin’s reaction, only for the dwarf to be retreating back into the mountain.

Lord Elrond spoke of a madness that existed in Thorin’s family. Gandalf seemed confident it would not take the dwarf as it had his grandfather. Bilbo supposed he had to hope for the same. Yet, unease took him at Thorin’s callousness. Before he could talk himself out of it, he found he was chasing after the King. The dwarf’s path straight to the treasure hall was not encouraging.

“Thorin!” Bilbo called.

He paused and slowly turned back to the hobbit with an unreadable expression that gave him pause.

“Master Baggins.” He nodded in return.

“The dragon is dead. I saw it.” Bilbo pointed out.

“One enemy defeated in a sea of others that will come to steal from us. We must make ready.”

Unease prickled the back of Bilbo’s neck. Something wasn’t right. He wasn’t going to jump to assumptions though. He wasn’t going to immediately doubt his friend for a paranoia that was fairly justifiable if you considered their quest thus far.

“I agree, yes, wholeheartedly we need to protect that which is yours, but Thorin...surely, there are more pressing matters at hand?”

“Pressing?” Thorin questioned with his chin raised high.

“Where are we going to sleep? After the food runs out from our packs, what will fill our bellies? The survivors of Laketown will need refuge.”

It was the last point that earned a growl from the dwarf king. 

“Do not speak to me of refugees when we know not who or what survived!”

Bilbo was taken aback by his ire, and found himself to be rather tight-lipped suddenly. Thorin shook his head in disgust before retreating back to the treasure hoard of Thror. The burglar did not give up the shining gem in his pocket that night.

The next morning found the company of dwarves and lone hobbit sharing a hearty albeit plain meal of jerky and cram. They had rations to last them a few more weeks, but most of the others agreed with Bilbo’s earlier assessment. They needed supplies. Only, their king was not there to bring such tidings.

“Bilbo, I thought you were with him last night. Did he say anything to you, lad?” Balin questioned.

The hobbit swallowed down the hard tack with a little water from his skin before answering.

“Uh, yes. He said we must be ready for...enemies.”

The dwarves all exchanged confused looks at this. Dwalin and Balin’s eyes met with more desperation and warning.

“I don’t blame him.” Bilbo immediately defended. “We’ve had enemies breathing down our necks the whole quest. Why should it be any different at the end?”

“Aye, the hobbit speaks sense.” Gloin agreed. “Clearly, there are several matters we need to take care of. The hard work is not over yet, lads.”

“And where is he now?” Dwalin rumbled. “Where was the last place you saw him, Bilbo?”

Bilbo opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He knew the sons of Fundin shared his fears. They were close to Thorin, and Balin lived through the days of Thror’s madness himself. He didn’t want to offer doubts to Thorin’s sanity. Not yet. 

“I’m...not exactly sure. I may have a guess though. I’ll just...go see if I can find him and be right back.”

Dwalin didn’t look satisfied with his answer. Balin was a little more understanding. 

“Aye, that would be mighty fine, Master Hobbit. Meanwhile, we’ll start talking about defense and reinforcements so as to have an idea to present our king.”

Bilbo nodded gratefully as he hopped to his feet. He really hoped he was long as he meandered down the tunnel that would bring him back into the treasury. The endless waves of gold and gems were just as boundless as they were when Bilbo was last in here. He couldn’t believe so much of it could exist in the entire world! Much less this single, lonely mountain. It would probably be more of a monumental task to find Thorin than Bilbo first suspected. And honestly, he hoped he would not find the dwarf in such a place. It wouldn’t mean anything good, of that he was certain.

He carefully picked his way down the stairs and around the first golden hill calling for the king as he went. He didn’t really expect an answer so it nearly had him jumping out of his skin when the dwarf revealed himself to be right behind him.

“Am I not allowed my peace?” Thorin growled.

Bilbo spun around to see him leaning against one of the pillars broken by Smaug’s mighty forepaws. The dwarf looked terrible. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his skin looked pale and waxy in the glow of the gold.

“Thorin!” Bilbo shouted unnecessarily, still trying to recover from his fight. “We missed you...at breakfast.”

“The dawn is already upon us.” Thorin groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah.” Bilbo nodded slowly. “We’ve been discussing...options for what we should do from here.”

“There is but one option for us.” Thorin snapped. “We have to find the Arkenstone.”

Cold robbed Bilbo’s feet of any feeling, and his coat felt unnaturally heavy. 

“Last night.” He began gruffly, clearing his throat before continuing. “Last night, you said we had to prepare for enemies. Now some...shiny gem must be our first priority?”

Thorin’s head snapped to pierce Bilbo with an icy look. “What are you insinuating, Halfling?”

“Me?” Bilbo grinned without humor. “Nothing, nothing at all. I’m just trying to understand. How does a rock matter more in this moment than food and supplies?”

“It’s not a rock.” Thorin scoffed.

“It is!” He argued. “An unusual one, but a rock nonetheless.”

“What would you know?!” Thorin exploded, throwing his hands in the air. “If you had done your job in the first place, none of this would have happened!”

“Excuse you! What would you have me do? Run through flame and death!”

“How about not wake up a dragon?”

“How about there wasn’t supposed to be a live dragon to wake?!”

“Yet there was!”

“Yes, there was. And now he’s dead. Along with half a village of fisherman.” 

“A VILLAGE WITH MY NEPHEWS IN IT!”

Bilbo froze. Any anger, resentment, or cynicism he had left just seemed to ebb out as he watched the mighty dwarf king clench his fists and look away.

“I promised Dis...I was supposed to look after them. I thought I was doing right...I made them stay.”

Bilbo never felt so relieved to be washed in the waves of one’s grief. It all made sense. There was nothing sinister about Thorin’s action. He was an uncle worried sick. In fact, it seemed rather obvious in retrospect. Thorin tended to lash out worse when his heart was heavy if his how he described his behavior on the side of the Misty Mountains later to Bilbo was any indicator. Slowly, he made his way to the dwarf’s side and placed his hand on his arm.

“Thorin...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I was short with you.”

The king tore himself away, still refusing to look at Bilbo.

“It does not matter.”

“No, it does! It really does, only...why the Arkenstone? Why come down here and search for it all night in your worry?”

Thorin heaved a large sigh, but the tension in his body relaxed none.

“I guess I shouldn’t expect a hobbit to understand such things.”

Bilbo tried really hard for the sake of his friend’s hurting not to take terrible offense.

“Do you remember at the beginning of the quest back in your home when I spoke of the meeting with my kin?” He asked, finally turning to stare at Bilbo.

The hobbit almost smirked. My! Didn’t that feel like a decade ago? However, he did remember the night. Vividly, in fact and nodded his assent.

“They would not join our quest. They thought it was folly. I was told I was only going to my death, and without the Arkenstone they would not join me in my suicide.”

Bilbo’s eyebrows came together as he tilted his head slightly. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand. What does the stone have to do with anything?”

“It’s the King’s Jewel. It is a symbol of power to people. One that can command any of the dwarven lords to honor their pledge to Erebor.”

Understanding took hold at that point. “If you had the Arkenstone, you would be able to call on their aid now.”

The king nodded which in turn caused the hobbit to scoff.

“How ridiculous! To be bound so by a…”

“By Mahal, Bilbo, do not call it a rock again.” Thorin swore.

Bilbo held the king’s glare before they both burst into snickers. Perhaps not the best time or place, but a welcome reprieve nonetheless. 

“Well, let me start by saying, don’t worry so. If your nephews are even half as stubborn as you, they wouldn’t dare let a dragon kill them.”

Thorin ducked his head with a sad smile. “Let us hope you are correct.”

“And turning our thoughts to food and bedding and clothing wouldn’t be remiss before we start holing ourselves in.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Bilbo grinned. “If ruling is really going to be so much easier with a shiny rock...then I have just the thing.”

The dwarf looked to be losing his patience again at the word ‘rock’, but the sight of the Arkenstone Bilbo pulled from his pocket had him at a loss for words that the hobbit rather enjoyed.

“Not so bad at my job now, am I?”

Thorin barked out a laugh while his eyes glittered in wonder. “Bilbo, how did you…? Just when exactly were you planning to give this to me?”

“When I was ready.” The hobbit shrugged under the dwarf’s glare. “None of that! You can’t expect me to make good decisions on an empty stomach and blisters fresh on my feet. Just what kind of hobbit do you take me for?”

“The thieving kind?” Thorin raised an eyebrow.

Bilbo lifted his nose and gave a rather pretentious sniff. “Well, if that’s the case, perhaps I will take this rather important rock and put it back where I found it.”

Thorin laughed as he moved to place his hand over the Arkenstone. “Peace, Master Baggins. I meant no…”

The dwarf never finished his sentence. As soon as his hand touched the Arkenstone, both he and Bilbo were blasted backwards by a surge of power. Thorin hit the stone pillar hard, slumping to the ground before it. Colors danced before him and in it, a rather insidious voice he couldn’t place.

“Dig deeper. In the gold your heart will finally be free. After uniting the lock with the Arkenstone as key.”

Thorin shook his head to clear it as his ears still rang from the impact. He staggered to his feet as he looked around for where the hobbit could have possibly landed.

“Master Baggins?” He questioned.

He waited for a response, but none came. Thorin swore as he spun, checking against every stone and wall for an unconscious body.

“BILBO!” He hollered.

“Thorin?” A quiet and unsure voice returned.

The dwarf sighed in visible relief as he turned to where Bilbo’s voice came from. Only, there was no one there. There was nothing at all save for the Arkenstone.

“Bilbo?” Thorin tried again, creeping forward.

“Here!” 

Thorin’s brows furrowed together, and his steps became more cautious. How odd. He could almost swear he was hearing Bilbo’s voice come straight from the Arkenstone. He paused as he reached out for it, his fingertips just ghosting the surface. What if this was how the madness started?

“Thorin!” Bilbo called to him, his voice pleading.

A different type of siren’s song than what he imagined it to be. This had to be the madness that took Thror. His hand flinched back as he recoiled from the tempting stone.

“Master Baggins...Bilbo. The stone is leading down a dark path. I beg you to reveal yourself before I follow in the footsteps of my grandfather.”

The stone released a bright array of colors that had Thorin staggering as he shielded his eyes from the onslaught. The lights burned stars behind his eyelids that had him blinking rapidly as he adjusted back to the returning dimness of the treasury. Only, he was no longer alone. Master Baggins was standing before him. A sight that would have given him joy, if it wasn’t for the fact that Thorin could see straight through him as if he were a ghostly entity. Thorin stared, closed his eyes, rubbed his heels into them, and blinked them back open. He was still treated to the same sight. A spector hobbit trapped in the glow of the Arkenstone with a rather alarmed expression.

“Thorin, it would seem, we have a bit of a problem with your rock.”

#birthdayplotbunnies #bagginshield #thilbo #starterdrabble #its not goldsickness #it's magic rocks

[oldsoulnewperspective]

It involves taking a huge risk of treating yourself as if your worth were not open to debate,

Just read this and thought you might relate: It can be argued that many forms of OCD come down to a fear that lack of vigilance could lead to a loss of identity.

Moral scrupulosity is, thus, obsessive concern with whether or not one is being good or bad. 

More to the point, this perfection must be constantly proven beyond the shadow of all doubt. 

Compulsions, that is, behaviors that OCD sufferers engage in to feel more certain that their fears are untrue

They could be simply measuring their moral integrity against the certainty that they are being “healthy” in romantic relationships 

Mentally reviewing/checking for acts to determine moral integrity

Self-punishment to prove moral concern

You could assign a list of moral guidelines to follow that are consistent with your cultural context, and you can even convince yourself that confidence in this list (as opposed to some other list) is warranted. But at some point, you are still going to have to decide whether or not you trust your own judgment, your own memory, and your own self-talk. Though everyone is entitled to a reality check now and then (as in, “come on, it’s not that big a deal), repeatedly reassuring oneself to get certainty always ends up colliding with the wall of reality, that something may be getting missed.

OCD is a battle of uncertainty tolerance

proving that im being “healthy” isn’t the goal. 

Improve uncertainty tolerance

Violate the expectation that uncertainty about morality is intolerable

Improve ability to commit to value-based behaviors despite unwanted thoughts/feelings

For now, consider this – OCD is driven by compulsions, behaviors you engage in to make yourself feel certain that you, in this case, are moral. 

Learning to live joyfully with uncertainty, even about your inherent “goodness” as a human being is the best strategy for beating OCD and feeling good about yourself. OCD uses the fraudulent concept of “bad person” to con you into trying to prove you are otherwise.

“That was bad. I am bad. I shouldn’t be bad. I’m a failure. I am wrong. I hurt people. I am a deviant. I am dysfunctional. I must prove otherwise. I must be good.”

o “mind less” that these thoughts and feelings arise is to take a huge risk that you haven’t tried hard enough to be moral, that you could be wrong. Maybe this thought is the one you were supposed to wrestle to the ground and pummel! Being mindful is viewing OCD as simply a storyteller that weaves thoughts together to trick you into forgetting that they’re just thoughts, and viewing it this way is the ultimate exposure.

Putting it more simply, moral scrupulosity is a form of OCD that emphasizes a fear of being immoral or morally contaminated.

If you have moral scrupulosity, making a big deal out of every real or imagined moral misstep doesn’t seem like magnifying. It seems like compensating for bad behavior. People with moral scrupulosity tend to purposely blow up their real and imagined transgressions as a form of compulsive reassurance that they are taking ownership of wrongdoing (and therefore must be supremely moral). 

Since moral scrupulosity is, by definition, an obsession with self-worth or “goodness”, it should come as no surprise that OCD promotes these painful feelings as bait to start doing compulsions. Guilt proves nothing. Recognizing that feelings are not reliable evidence of facts can take some of the power away from OCD’s claim.

If our efforts to be perfectly certain about morality cause us to be compulsive, and ERP asks us to scale back that behavior, then we are going to feel, well, less moral in a way. We may try to compensate for this by engaging in self-punishment, being extra unkind to ourselves to make sure we aren’t getting away with anything. If I can at least prove that I feel bad (i.e. guilty, disgusted, self-hating) about real and imagined moral failings, then I am at least somewhat liberated from worrying about being immoral. Put simply, self-criticism is a compulsion. It often gets overlooked because we tend to think of compulsions as feeling good. In reality, compulsions simply feel better than what we imagine the alternative to be and beating yourself up sounds better than taking the risk of finding out you’re a bad person later. If only it worked.

If treating yourself badly proved you were good and proving you’re good freed you from your OCD, I’d be all for it. 

You have a thought about something you did or thought about doing, or felt an urge to do, and so forth, and because this experience doesn’t line up with your presumed identity as a moral person, you feel bad. Because you feel bad, you try to get the feeling to stop. You may seek reassurance, try to make sure you’re not doing bad things, check to see if you have, and engage in other compulsions. You set up a series of rigid rules that apply only to you to guarantee you’ll never do a bad thing, but since these rules are impossible to follow perfectly, they also make you feel bad. 

What’s worse, ceasing to feel bad makes you feel like you’re getting away with something, like you stopped caring about your moral compass. Bad feelings at least reminded you that you care and reassure you that you would never intentionally be immoral. So, you find yourself trying to get away from the pain of bad feelings while at the same time clinging to those bad feelings for proof of inherent goodness. Ultimately, this compulsive relationship to moral doubt sends the message to your brain that thoughts about morality are codes to be cracked, problems to be solved. So, the brain faithfully performs its duty to help you by sending more intrusive thoughts and feelings your way.

But for ERP to be at its most effective, you have to expose both to the fear that you may be morally imperfect and also to the fear that you have inadequately addressed it.  ERP for contamination fears involves exposing to triggering experiences (E) to generate the feeling of being dirty, but then intentionally behaving like someone who is clean (not washing hands and also cross-contaminating to other objects and environments). So, you get the dirty feeling, but you pair it with the behavior of a person who feels clean. 

Catch and abandon any mental review of the event, especially any rationalizing over why the event occurred or why it won’t be repeated

Seek no reassurance about the meaning of the event or your characterFully engage in the present by actually allowing yourself to enjoy something (mindfulness is a major asset here). Remember, OCD wants you clinging to guilt, so embracing a joyful moment is an act of rebellion.Find activities to do that you imagine people do when they believe themselves to be good, innocent, or having served their time.

[pascalls]

Hi! I'd love to learn more about Charlie 😊 I've seen you mention that he was an employee of Burns' - what happened to him for him to become a hybrid? I'm also really interested to know how that affected his personality, and his outlook on things, and whether the way people interact with him has changed since. And has he always lived in Springfield? Apologies if that's too many questions (I really love learning about people's OCs 😊)!

You’ve presented me with an opportunity to go into the lore of my OC and now you have NO ESCAPE. WATCH OUT THIS IS GONNA BE LONG.

Charlie has always lived in Springfield, most likely, and is the result of wealthy parents having absolutely no interest in their own child beyond using him as a bargaining chip, attempting to marry him off to another marginally wealthy family so that they can combine wealth and continue to be rich bitches. He was arranged to marry the daughter of the other family, but unfortunately, he’s primarily gay (he has some women exceptions to the rule, but they’re few and far in between). So an arranged marriage would’ve been miserable and terrible. In an attempt to prepare himself for married life, he has a one-night stand with a woman named Carla who accidentally births a little boy, affectionately named Connor. 

Charlie wants to be present for the boy, but urges Carla to keep his parenthood a secret. Their general incompatibility, Charlie’s pre-arranged commitment, and Carla’s eventual disgust for Charlie’s homosexual tendencies keep her from allowing Charlie to truly act as a parent, though she doesn’t waste time in dropping the child off for days at a time for him to look after. Connor grows up knowing his father, but he isn’t very empowered by his mother. As a result, Connor is a bit of a fearful and quiet kid and both Charlie and Carla are at odds. Charlie considered fighting for custody, but did not, for fear that it would throw his whole arranged marriage deal into chaos. Connor remained a secret from Charlie’s parents throughout his childhood.

He got a job at the plant in his thirties so he could at least attempt to learn some sort of independence before being married off (and perhaps learn how to be a provider for Connor without relying on his own parents’ wealth), but with a penchant for numbers, he just ended up being another pencil pushing accountant. Faced with depression, lack of guidance in his own life, his inability to see his son on the regular, and being enormously closeted, he sort of just lived day by day. (Of course, there were some experiments, like his VERY brief one night stand with a particular lawyer, but that ended in a bitter, catty rivalry that carries on to the day.) 

Anyway, my guess is that Burns had it in mind to use some of the plant workers as an attempt to harness the radioactivity that just kind of FLOATS around there to combine animal DNA with human DNA and create super-workers that would be much more efficient and trainable, but would complain less about health benefits. Charlie was just the unlucky first pick for guinea pig. He disappeared at the plant for several weeks while his genetic code got all sorts of messed up and only escaped with the help of the other idiot plant workers that didn’t do their due diligence at locking up the section of the plant that Burns had him tucked away in. But now he looked like a horrible mutant - in his opinion - and he holed up in somewhere in the woods until nightfall. 

Once night came around - it was raining too, which didn’t help - he made a break for it to try and hide out somewhere in the town. Unfortunately, a certain reverend decided to accidentally plow into Charlie with his car and had to drag him home to his basement because 1) he couldn’t tell the cops that he’d just killed someone, if Charlie ended up dead 2) this thing isn’t human. When Charlie eventually came to in Lovejoy’s basement, he decided that this was the opportunity he had to live a new life. Be someone entirely different (though why he didn’t change his name is his own particular brand of stupidity, but luckily, Burns’ little pet project was soon forgotten by the man himself and Smithers is reluctant to give Charlie away because he’s not that invested). 

So he let his hair grow, let himself be more open about his sexuality, and took up smoking and drinking (and a number of drugs to cope with the trauma of having your entire body changed without your consent), and now is the over-the-top, sometimes wildly inappropriate gay lizard you now see today, though he still does his best for his son, whose mother is only marginally aware of anything that happens in town. His parents were told that he had died in a tragic accident and seem to be just fine with that. They’ve not made any attempts to find him themselves and his previously arranged fiance found another man to wed.

BUT HIS NEW LIFE IS STILL NOT WITHOUT ITS STRUGGLES. He falls in love with the stupid sardonic nature of Reverend Lovejoy and constantly works to undermine the man’s religion (though he’s marginally careful about boundaries, i.e.: he would never disparage Helen, nor would he take it upon himself to sabotage their marriage), but he’s relatively unsuccessful. He falls deeper and deeper, further complicating things when he dons a hokey Halloween costume so he can go out and live a life free of persecution because of his non-human nature. He takes on the role of a new-age plague doctor (despite knowing next to nothing about medicine), and gets a job at Springfield Elementary as the school nurse (despite not having any credentials, but who does). 

He regularly attends church - just for the sake of being present in town - and finds an enemy in Ned Flanders who takes up far too much of Lovejoy’s time for Charlie’s envious nature to be satisfied with - and bounces wildly between pining for a man he can’t have and trying to keep himself from constantly throwing hands with Flanders (who has a suspicion that Charlie is some kind of demon presence put on Earth to turn the reverend away from God, which incidentally, might not be that inaccurate). 

Most people in Springfield never knew his name before, and thus don’t make the connection between who he is now and who he was before, but he is careful with divulging too much personal information to anyone. Despite that, he regularly explores intimacy with other men because of his desire to be appreciated, loved, and doted on (which he is most certainly not getting from Lovejoy), including several nights spent with Smithers who becomes a bit of a confidante. On that note, while he does his best to maintain his secret, there are a number of people who know that he is not human, including Marge (a mother-figure to him, despite them being the same age, but she gives him good advice), Lisa (because she isn’t dumb), Superintendent Chalmers and Principal Skinner (both involved in some shenanigans that need a lot more context to get into lmaoo), and eventually, Sam the barfly. 

As he is now, Charlie is constantly looking for some kind of reassurance in the form of affection, but is increasingly frustrated by Lovejoy’s insistence that there is nothing between them, despite evidence to the contrary and heavily influenced by the man’s (and his own internalized) apparent homophobia. (I made an animatic with them several weeks ago and it very much embodies their dynamic.) He buries himself in drinking and drugs to chase away his feeling of inadequacy and his fears of being a good parent, as well as his realization that his parents never truly cared, how he is slated to be relatively alone for the rest of his life, and the fear that he will never be normal again. But he combats this deep depression with his over-the-top personality, at times, and his smarmy, self-absorbed facade of confidence that would shatter if anyone poked a little too hard at it.

AND THAT’S WHERE HE IS NOW.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

#tj talk #oc #simpsona #LONG POST #thetransverseprocess

[terradisirene]

Recently I saw an essay about how Hima’s portrayal of the Italy brothers was racist and xenophobic, in addition to being poor and one dimensional, and I couldn’t agree less.

Link to google docs version

Also although I prefer Romano I honestly think North Italy  is a interesting and well developed character  although that is easy to miss for some. Both of them are developed and shown wonderfully in canon and I continue to be eager to see more. In this essay I will show why I believe their portrayals are well done and how they are accurate to the situation in Italy as well as to it’s history and culture (That being said if you prefer a different interpretation that’s fine, there can be many different narratives)

North Italy does seem at first glance to be more talented, kind, and politically inclined. However this is not the entire story. Likewise Romano seems more rude and undesirable, but this is not everything in canon regarding him. In one strip Romano is noted to have a good deal of potential by Prussia and Germany, showing that he can be hard working and talented if he makes the effort. In the strip where Romano goes to America he also is quite confident in his cooking talents which America is actually impressed by. In another strip America even calls his cooking the best, and Romano himself is in later decades proud of his cooking, showing that yes he is good at things, and yes he is talented.

The problem is is that Romano does not have to motivation often to use his talents and work ethic. There are many reasons for this that Himaruya both states and alludes to. Firstly Himaruya states that being owned by various powers had a negative effect on Romano and that mismanagement by his rulers lead him to seem lazy since their mismanaged ruling rubbed off on him. Basically political control, corruption , and mismanagement stymied south Italy’s growth, which is true depending on the era and time period and  true regarding modern day. Also in one strip after Romano makes an effort to work hard, but all his efforts come to nothing and he eventually grows resigned. I believe this is a reflection of the fact that there is an attitude among some south Italians of resignation towards politicians and things improving for themselves,  such as shown in the song La Citta di Pulcinella (translation). Himaruya also touches on this when he notes the harmful affect the Mafia has on south Italy in his notes and even laments that fact.

Basically Romano has the potential  to be just as good as north Italy but is unable to be because of historical circumstances and due to the harmful effect of corruption. Romano’s rudeness and lack of evident kindness and cynical worldview is also a result of this as he has been at the mercy of the mafia both in real life and in canon. Hima notes his cynicism is due to the harmful effects of the mafia and how they have hurt him . Romano in my opinion has reason to be rude, he has reason to be unkind, he has reason to be cynical, the mafia continues to be a serious  issue and was even worse in the past, and thus his world view has been affected by how he has suffered at their hands. He also has to deal with the fact that he feels he is compared to north Italy, and openly  feels and says he is not good enough or talented enough compared to him. This is based in reality. The north is often seen as better than the south and indeed it is more wealthy, does have better infrastructure, x does have more industry and renown and Romano is clearly sour because of this. Himaruya showing someone reacting negatively towards adverse circumstances i think is not a negative stereotype but just showing the harmful effects of the situation of the south. Romano is not totally unkind either. Despite their conflicts he does care about his brother, he  often  shows  a lot  concern  for  Spain  and worries about him, he is kind to women generally , and has some nations he is friendly with like Japan  Netherlands and Belgium . So in sum hima does not show Romano as unkind, but as a complex being who can be both kind and unkind like many people.

The south is seen as a land of little opportunity, dirty, unclean and full of crime by the north that is true, however sadly that perception has some  perception in reality. For example many southerners leave the south to find work up north and stay there. This even happens to one of the protagonists of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels and it is seen as escaping Naples to make a better life for herself while the other protagonist  stays stuck in Naples, stunted by the lack of opportunity and male oppression that she struggles against all her life. Naples also  sadly has a serious trash  problem as does Rome, there is even a facebook page titled “Rome is disgusting” in Italian showing the trash  problems of Rome. The mafia also   dumps  toxic  waste  around Naples, leading to high rates of sickness and cancer in the population compared to other parts of Italy due to the fact that the toxic waste seeps into the ground water and the plants grown around the area.

Romano feels interior to North Italy and seems so at first glance because that is a reflection of the sad situation of the divide between north and south. However again note I said ‘at first glance’, because while many write off the south at first glance there is a richness and beautify behind that with its rich culture and the beauty of it’s people, as there is with Romano, which I note with his hidden and subtle  kindness in canon .

Romano’s Arabic blood and darker appearance is due the fact that Arabs from north Africa invaded Sicily, ruled there for about two hundred years, and left a lasting cultural legacy behind there. It makes sense he has Arabic blood, as well as the fact that some, though not all, southern Italians do have a darker complexation (some also have red hair, blonde hair, hazel eyes, or blue eyes, due to Norman influence too). However that doesn’t mean they are poc (in Italy persone di colore is used instead) and even though Romano does have some Arabic blood frankly he would not be seen as non white in Italy. I don’t really think it’s right to bring up a poc argument in regards to him given that. In addition to that Italy also has a problem regarding xenophobia and  racism in regards to African immigrants and Romani and many suffer and are marginalized there, something Romano would not experience in that regard. Romano is also noted to have a “Darker” nature, but this is again because of the mafia. He is affected and blighted by them, it’s not a reference to his coloring but to his cynicism and how they have drained him and his people of the prosperity they could have had otherwise. He is also noted to be “dirtier” not in the sense of being messy or unclean but in how his image looks, and the expressions he makes, this is a reference to the south’s rougher and more intense nature. It’s often said that the more  south you go, the more intense and more of the nature of Italy you get and indeed the south of Italy is often said to be a love it or hate it place.

There is also additional canon reasons for Romano’s bitterness and darker personality like how he feels Rome favored north Italy  (There may be historical reasons for this but I am limiting this essay to what is stated openly or alluded to more obviously in canon) and how he seems to feel haunted by his legacy. And as for other nations favoring North Italy over him, some do not like Spain and Belgium, and the the fact that some seem to is also sadly reflective of reality as many people only pay attention to or visit the north of Italy, neglecting or avoiding the south and only looking at the cities of Venice, Florence and Milan and not Palermo, Naples, or Caligari.

While the two brothers did not meet in Rome’s lifetime there is no indication this lasted until the Italian wars during the 1500′s portrayed in the canon strips . In fact during Spain’s rule of south Italy shortly after Romano is shown mentioning he is going to travel to visit his brother so they clearly had met by this point. Due to the nature of canon himaruya jumps across time periods often and so we do not always see everything that occurs within or before a certain time period. Sometimes he returns  later, and sometimes he does not, though he could in the future. As for North Italy’s reactions to his struggles people have different reactions to hard situations, and that is not wrong, not everyone will struggle in the same way. It’s not something that indicates a lack of character but just a personality facet. Not everything has to contribute to development and that doesn’t mean a uninteresting or uncomplex character. Some people are simply affected differently by traumatic events. That being said I find it interesting he seems to hold a deep fear of angering others as well as some fear of abandonment .

We will turn to North Italy again. Yes he is cute, but that is not all his character is. He is far more than that. He is kind , he is intelligent , he is noted to be good at business, he is also fashionable  and knows how to get what he   wants out of people, he also can  be a bit  vulgar sometimes. He also was good at warfare when he was a child, and if one looks into the time period of the strips it seems he lessens in his ability the longer he is under Austria’s domain. He is also good at art, he is good at cooking, and he is  even also not exactly the nicest person .

I have noticed that many people miss this but sometimes he is actually a little sneaky and mean . This is most evident with Romano actually. In one of their first appearances together when Romano asks Italy to complement him Italy outright refuses, backs away, and as a result makes Romano cry more than he had before and he flies off. In another comic Italy goes up to Romano, seems surprised he is working, and Romano is visibly hurt by this, he also seems to even doubt Romano’s ability to even do so, offering to do work for him which Romano is bothered by . Finally Italy has been shown to get outright angry at Romano at times, in one drawing he is yelling at Romano over the Venice independence referendum, saying Romano doesn’t want him around anyways . While North Italy does love his brother he clearly is not the nicest person to him at times which does little to motivate Romano to do much of anything, and sadly North Italy does not treat him as a equal really given how condescending he can sometimes be. He also is a little rude to Japan at times, like when they are in the bath, sort of hinting he thinks Japan has a small dick.  In addition to this he is pretty sneaky and sometimes even flirty in regards to Germany and is able to really get Germany to do whatever he wants, though this is more evident in World Stars  .

As for everyone liking him in the past he and Turkey were antagonistic, with Turkey stating he hated kids as a result of him (And Greece), and Austria was often angry and frustrated with   him. In modern times Belarus has shown aggression to him when he  tried to feel her chest and was visibly angry with good reason to be. The other girls didn’t allow him to do so either, but all had various reactions. From Monaco and Belgium not taking him seriously and gloating over their superior gambling and waffles respectively  to Wy giving him rather done look and telling him to buzz off, to Taiwan being upset and telling him off, Vietnam having none of it and glaring at him, to the most surprising of them all, Ukraine openly flirting with him and giving him a seductive gaze he is a little intimidated by . His relationships are clearly not predictable but are interesting and fun to see and clearly not everyone thinks he is cute or is willing to put up with him especially the girls ironically. Switzerland too shows little tolerance for Italy’s antics, but is willing to spend time him civilly as long as he behaves himself , Russia too has gotten impatient with him at times, and so has Japan. And as for France he’s a interesting case, since at times he can be brotherly towards Italy  but at the same time is also willing to tell him off, like when he actually hit him for asking for the Mona Lisa back. People like Italy, but not everyone does and even those who like him don’t like him all the time.

Frankly I think their characters make perfect sense. Romano’s anger and resentment is rooted in many things. In how people compare him and his brother, on his brother’s lackluster treatment of him, in the oppressions of the mafia, the years of being ruled over by other nations, and by poverty, neglect, and corrupt politics. North Italy for his part is frustrated by Romano and often doesn’t understand him and thinks his brother his weighing him down, though he fails to see how he is also contributing to his brother’s resignation and lack of self worth. He instead tries to work hard and do his best, while sucking up to others and making himself seem charming and pleasing to get what he wants and not make others angry at him. In fact he seems to have a deep and pressing fear of others being angry at him.

In sum I think canon does a good job with both of their characters. It shows them in a humorous nature in accordance with the genre of the strips while still leaving room for character complexity along with historical and cultural references and allusions, as well as reflecting both aspects of the historical and modern situation of north and south Italy depending on what time period the strip is set. Romano is shown to be rude, difficult, sometimes violent, and darker, however these are only traits that come as a result of the abandonment of Rome, the poverty and corruption of his land,  and the malign influence and harm of the mafia affecting him. In addition to this he is also sometimes kind, fun loving, emotional, sensitive,  a hard worker when he tries to be, is shown to be a talented cook, someone with a good deal of potential, and someone who has people who like him like Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, and Japan. On the other hand Italy is shown to yes, be kind and cute, but canon also shows him to be  flirty, sneaky, angry, resentful, intelligent, and even a little rude at times. Many people like him, but not all do, for example Belarus, or many do not like him all the time and show impatience with him like Wy, France, Romano, and Switzerland. The difficulties he has experienced have not affected him in the same way they have Romano but that’s to be expected, for the two did not go though the same things and it’s only normal for people to have different reactions to trauma, some handling it better than others. This does not denote a lack of character complexity or development but just a different kind of person and temperament. I think that this shows that both Italy and Romano are interesting and complex characters and that himaruya in my opinion has done his work and research in trying to develop them and do strips for them. He does not indulge in colorism or xenophobia but merely seeks to show the good and bad of both sides of Italy and the complex reality of the south today and in history which has it’s bad and good points.

As a side note in Valentino strip is unfinished and Germany and Italy never discuss their respective feelings or misunderstandings and Italy is less uncomfortable and more confused and worried that Germany is angry at him.

#hetalia #aph romano #aph south italy #hws romano #hws south italy #(i'll be back soon btw just revamping some blogs)

[itsclydebitches]

I would really love to hear your thoughts on Yang's PTSD arc. I hope you don’t think it was handled well. I forgot their account, but someone pointed out about how Tai's joke and calling Yang's suffering moping was toxic as shit. That’s not even getting into her curing her PTSD by killing Adam. Like the racism, it was offensively handled. FNDM loved it, but only because they used PTSD as way to confirm a ship. It’s disgusting for both parties to see/use PTSD like that, this has caused suicides.

First, I think it’s worth acknowledging that such an arc was doomed from the get-go in terms of pleasing anyone. PTSD is an incredibly complex, varied disorder and thus one depiction seen as realistic to some viewers may come across as absurd to others, depending on their experience, knowledge, etc. Like writing a redemption arc, or a dealing with sexism arc, or a breakup arc, whatever, a PTSD arc encompasses too much of the human experience to boil down into one, “right” depiction. Some people will like it whereas others won’t; some people will think it’s realistically done while others won’t; some people will be able to connect with it on an emotional level and - again - others won’t. So when I criticize aspects know that it’s coming primarily from a place of “This didn’t work for me.” Not a claim that it can’t work for anyone. Different people need different types of stories. 

That being said, I’m only really a fan of the beginning of Yang’s arc. I think RT did a good job there: having her unable to get out of bed, rejecting Ruby (which was HUGE for Yang), not seeming to care that her little sister ran off, eventually managing to get herself dressed but not anything past watching TV, emotionally flinching away from the arm as a way to “fix” the situation, her firm acknowledgement that she has lost a piece of herself and things will never be the same... that was all compelling and, dare I say, realistic. Including, in my opinion, the arm comment from Tai. This is a perfect example of how different people need different things. Me? I’m Yang. At a certain point I want people to joke about the bad stuff in my life because 1. It helps normalize it, 2. It helps lighten the mood after nothing but Bad Times, and 3. I’m an emotionally constipated person who more comfortably receives affection via humor than heartfelt sentimentality. The important takeaway is that just because you would have been offended by Tai’s comment doesn’t mean everyone else would have... and the really important thing is that Yang wasn’t offended. She smiled. She laughed. She joked right back and we never saw that comment haunting her later, implying that the previous stuff was all just an act. That moment told us how well Tai knows his daughter and what she needs at this point in her recovery: to be treated like normal, someone who is teased and pushed and challenged, not a delicate victim who needs to be tip-toed around. This is also a great example of how the fandom will often ignore the canon in an effort to “prove” their headcanon/subjective reading. Because they want Tai to be the bad guy here they’re just going to conveniently ignore Yang’s response to his comment - the response that overtly tells us whether we should be offended on her behalf or not.  

So all that was well done. I’d even go so far as to say it was really well done. The problem is RT didn’t maintain it. Not that a character has to be in this depressive state indefinitely, just that things moved far too quickly after that and (as per RWBY’s usual) had no impact down the road. Meaning yeah, Yang’s hand shakes, but that doesn’t actually affect her performance in any way. She’s still able to spar playfully with Tai. Still able to punch out an asshole at the bar (a moment played mostly for comedy). Still takes out Raven’s goons easy-peasey. Is still willing to fight Raven herself - her long-lost mother - with barely a blink. Still participates in the Battle of Haven with, again, absolutely no difficulty. Indeed, as I’ve mentioned before, Yang removes her arm and goes after two maidens and a third, incredibly powerful fighter. Not only is that stupid for anyone on Team RWBYJNOR to do, it makes even less sense to give that moment to the one fighter who should currently be struggling to fight at all. 

The problem comes down to structure. RT front-loaded all of Yang’s difficulties, had her hit a moment where she’s “cured” (putting on the arm), and from then on any “proof” that she wasn’t cured was superficial. It had no impact on her or the plot. Conveniently, Yang’s two flashbacks - in the kitchen and in the Apathy barn - happen when there’s no danger. She’s safe with Tai and safe with Blake, meaning that her PTSD never has a negative impact on the group that Yang has to work through. She never freezes during a battle. She never struggles with whether she can even enter one. Indeed, when she’s faced with the very person who caused this all in the first place, she blasts through Adam with total confidence and control. After Volume Six I received a few anons/responses claiming that this is, in fact, realistic. That anyone with real (“real”) PTSD will struggle when they’re safe but be perfectly capable of pushing through the actual danger if needed. It’s something Steven Universe did much better in my opinion. Steven starts experiencing his most overt symptoms when his galactic war is over - something the show actively has him question and then explains - but the PTSD still has a massive personal impact on his life. I don’t agree that Yang should have been able to confidently blow through every battle like she did. Even if we all unanimously agree that it’s realistic (which, from what I’ve gathered, we don’t), this isn’t a documentary. It’s a crafted story and stories have expectations attached to them, one of which is that we’ll see the impact/outcome/resolution to problems in a way we often don’t in real life. That’s one of the reasons why they’re satisfying via being “unrealistic.” That aside though, even if RT really didn’t want the PTSD informing the plot in that way (what does the group do if Yang can’t fight at Haven?) they could have at least pulled a Steven Universe and had it change the dynamic of the group on a personal level. As it is, no one in the show acknowledges the strong connection between Yang’s PTSD and her current behavior. She’s always been hot-headed, but lately we’ve seen Yang making even more reckless choices (telling Robyn about Amity) and taking her anger out on others inappropriately (the bird conversation, screaming at Oscar, etc.) At no point does the story go, “Hey, you might be doing this because you’re still grappling with PTSD, but that doesn’t make it okay. We need to address this.” Rather, Yang’s PTSD has been forgotten and her behavior continually excused. To the extent that this volume multiple people told me it was absurd to think that Yang should struggle at all with Adam’s death. That’s the legacy her arc has left: such a shallow treatment of the issue that the ongoing nature of PTSD and killing your first person and having that person be the guy who cut off your arm is a combination of things that Yang is expected to just shrug off with a cocky smile. Because that’s mostly what RT has had her do. 

Again, there are expectations for stories. Another of which is that - in rejecting realism - a character need not (necessarily) be burdened by their mental health in the way someone would be in real life. I 100% get that RT wouldn’t want to write Yang out of the group as a fighter just in the name of telling a “realistic” story. I also 100% get that the audience doesn’t (again, necessarily) want to watch a character struggle with the same issue indefinitely, especially when the story’s in-world time doesn’t match up with real life time. If you decide Yang needs two years to start making significant progress with her PTSD, that’s going to take a whole slew of volumes considering we’ve had four covering just one year (at most). People don’t necessarily want eight years of RWBY content where it feels like Yang is static. So yes, there’s a balance to be struck between “This is what PTSD is actually like” and “This is what a fictional story needs.” On the whole though, I don’t think RT did a particularly good job striking that balance. They started strong, but weren’t able to maintain that quality. 

#rwby #rwde #mymetas

[tsarisfanfiction]

Ordeal (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Gen Warnings: None Characters: Law, Shachi

The atmosphere in the Polar Tang was tense, and Law hated it. Despite the overly cheery smiles of his crew – most of them, anyway – there was no hiding the way they were all looking over their shoulders as if they expected something bad to happen any moment.

The fear wasn't totally unfounded, either. As much as Law wanted to be an idealistic optimist, it was cold hard fact that right now he – they – couldn't trust Penguin. Refusing to keep him confined to the infirmary like some sort of prisoner, Law had let him wander the ship as he liked, under one condition. Penguin was not allowed to be by himself at any time. Some of the crew, particularly the newer ones, thought it was for his protection; after all, the Polar Tang was full of hazards for the unwary, and without his memories of her, Penguin was likely to fall afoul of them.

Law wished that was all it was. Penguin's safety was, of course, paramount; amnesia or not, he was part of Law's nakama no matter what the situation. Unfortunately, there was a less known fact about Penguin that many of the crew did not know.

Penguin hated pirates. Law had overheard him and Shachi talking more than once about the irony of it all and was well aware of their past experiences with pirates. While Penguin had forgotten even Shachi's existence, Law could see in his eyes, could hear in his voice, that he hadn't forgotten that. Thus, they had a pirate-hating man on a ship surrounded by people who would love nothing more than to trust him. If Penguin didn't regain at least some relevant memories soon, that was going to become a problem. Law knew full well that Penguin was scoping them out, looking for weaknesses to exploit. He'd allowed it in the hopes that if he learnt enough his memories would resurface, but if he was remembering anything he wasn't admitting it.

The fact that he couldn't do anything to help was frustrating. While he knew the basics of amnesia, and had seen the potential signs before Penguin even woke up, he didn't know anywhere near enough about the workings of the brain to even attempt to fix the damage. He wouldn't do anything he wasn't completely and utterly confident on when it came to his nakama, especially with the potential for irreversible damage. There was also Penguin's reaction to Law's attempt to examine him earlier, before discharging him from the infirmary.

Law had been called all sorts of names before, especially from people who didn't know how his abilities worked, but hearing the common "freak" from the mouth of Penguin – who had never, not even the first time he'd seen it, said the word with as much vehement disgust as he had then – had hurt badly. He could admit that it had unbalanced him enough that he'd ended up discharging Penguin only halfway through his usual procedure, unable to take those judging eyes any longer.

Holed up in the library, Law had torn through every book he had with any reference at all to head injuries and amnesia, only to be met with what he already knew. There was no hard and fast cure. Not even something so complex and difficult it would take a miracle – or the Ope Ope no Mi – to pull off. No, there was absolutely nothing Law could do as a doctor. All he could do was expose Penguin to his usual surroundings, wait, and hope.

Now, as he watched Penguin pick through his meal – his favourite meal, the cook had enthusiastically joined in on doing everything possible to jog his memory – Law identified a problem. There was, one person that had more familiarity with Penguin than anyone else, and therefore the greatest chance of success at coaxing his memories back. However, that same person hadn't been seen since Penguin had left the infirmary.

Finishing his plate, he left it in the sink with an apology to the cook and picked up the untouched plate of food. The cook waved him off with a tired grin.

"Make sure he eats it all," he said, and Law nodded, leaving the room with the plate held securely in both hands. He could feel the heavy weight of a gaze on his back, and didn't need to turn around to know it was Penguin, gathering more information and drawing more conclusions.

Despite everything, Shachi was still in the same bolt hole he always used when he wanted to escape. Law's haki picked up on him in his room, face down on his bunk, and he shuffled his grip on the plate until he had a hand free to knock on the closed door. There was no answer, and normally Law would have left him alone – not quite true, normally he'd go and fetch Penguin – but he couldn't do that this time.

"Shachi?" he called, knowing that the ginger was well aware it was him. "I'm coming in." There was no protest, so he pushed the door open, walking in to the dark room. "I brought your dinner," he said, when there was no response from the top bunk, and finally there was the sound of movement as the ginger shuffled around.

"Not hungry," he mumbled, but he came down anyway, gliding down the ladder. Law stayed where he was as there was the sound of something being picked up, and then the light turned on. With his shades on, Shachi was sometimes difficult to read. The dried tear stains on his cheeks left Law in no doubt how he was feeling this time.

"You still need to eat," Law told him, nudging him to sit on the bottom bunk – well aware it was Penguin's and probably the last place Shachi wanted to be – and placing the plate on his lap before sitting next to him, ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the top bunk.

Shachi didn't say anything but he did pick at the meal, very similarly to the way Penguin had been picking at his own food. Law kept that observation to himself, choosing to sit in silence while Shachi ate. The silence reigned until he finished, setting the plate on the floor.

"How… is he?" Shachi asked, head bowed and looking at the floor. Law leaned on his elbows, but kept his eyes on the ginger.

"Physically fine," Law told him. "His injuries are healing well." Better than yours, he didn't say, even though the fresh bandaging on his side was clearly visible.

"But he still doesn't remember anything?" Shachi guessed, his voice thick. Law nodded. "You can't..?" He made a funny motion with one hand, clearly mimicking the way Law summoned his Room.

"There's nothing I can do," Law admitted. "It might be possible, but I don't know how and I won't risk damaging him permanently if I make a mistake." Shachi's sigh sounded resigned rather than disappointed; he'd already known the answer. "Shachi," he started, knowing what he needed to ask but faltering in the reality of the situation. His nakama made a noise that could either be intrigue or dismissal. Law chose to interpret it as intrigue. "Can you spend time with Penguin?"

Shachi's breath hitched, and his hands started to tremble where they were balled in his lap. Law ploughed on, knowing that Shachi was hurting more than any of them but also certain that out of all of them, he was the one with the best chance of helping Penguin remember.

"The best chance of recovering his memories is exposing him to things that should be familiar," he explained. "Out of everyone, you're the closest to him, so if there's any chance, it's you." He didn't want to put that pressure on Shachi, not when he was falling apart, but things couldn't continue like this. He – they – needed Penguin back.

Shachi said nothing for several minutes, the silence stretching over them, laden with heavy expectations. With the shades on, Law didn't know where Shachi was looking, if he was looking at anything at all or just staring into space. Looking forwards himself, towards the opposite wall, he saw sketches of what he presumed were their parents, alongside more familiar faces.

If Penguin saw those, would that trigger something?

"Okay," Shachi said suddenly, and Law's attention snapped back to him, his mind scrabbling to put the word into context. "I'll help him." Law blinked, startled, as the ginger got to his feet and retrieved the plate before giving a grin that was far too painfully fake.

"Shachi-" Law started, only for the ginger to turn away, opening the door.

"It's the only way we'll fix this before he does something stupid," he said. "If he tries to kill us, would we be able to stop him?"

Law had known that, had known Penguin was gathering information for that exact reason, but hearing Shachi say it was like a punch to the gut. He didn't ask how Shachi knew Penguin remembered he hated pirates, instead numbly watching his receding back as the ginger left the room to inflict constant emotional pain on himself in order to help Penguin.

Why did it have to be like that? Why did someone always have to hurt to help someone else? Why did Shachi have to be the sacrificial lamb? Why wasn't Law enough to take the burden?

Nudging the door shut with a Room and a Tact, Law curled up on the bed as the tears he'd been holding back ever since Penguin woke up amnesiac burst out. The bed was cold, unused for the last two nights while its owner was in the infirmary, but the unmistakable presence of Penguin still lingered and Law buried himself in it, wanting his nakama back and hating himself for being so useless.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #heart pirates #tales from the heart #tsari writes fanfiction #trafalgar law #penguin #shachi

[vulcan-highblood]

Resistance To Interrogation

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: M (torture, needles, drugs)

Pairing: Gen

Summary: Colonel Haley will do whatever it takes to keep her country safe. If that means using torture to force her agents to reveal Supergirl's secret identity, so be it. (Set during S4 Ep10 "Suspicious Minds". What exactly happened during Brainy's interrogation?)

Read it on AO3

Resistance To Interrogation

He should have expected this. He had expected it, in a way, but what Querl had not expected was for Colonel Haley to be so… ruthless, he supposed that was the best way to put it. One minute he had been trying to arrange his schedule to meet with Nia. He thought now was an excellent time to encourage the young woman to give Supergirl more substantial backup, and he felt certain now was the time to being training her to use her own Naltorian abilities. It may not be a comfortable experience, at first, but Querl was certain that Supergirl would need all the help she could get, and soon. No one else seemed to be taking things quite seriously enough, in his opinion - perhaps because they were not as familiar with the way these kinds of social movements worked out. Or perhaps they were more optimistic about human nature. Querl had no such hindrance, he was a realist and always would be.

It was the same reason why Querl had staked out a space online for himself, for all of them, as American Alien. They needed to rally others to champion their cause, to acknowledge injustice, or they would all lose before they had even fully recognized the need to fight. That was why he was so insistent that Supergirl had a strong support network right now - he could see the writing on the wall, so to speak, and he was not willing to see this world descend into violent xenophobia. He had enough experience with xenophobic people from his own time, he had no interest in watching it destroy lives in this time, too. 

Speaking of xenophobia, he did not appreciate the way Colonel Haley watched him as he ended the call with Nia, putting away the primitive communication device and turning to fully face the DEO’s new overseer. “Yes, Colonel Haley?”

“I need to speak to you about Supergirl,” she said, her face retaining a mostly neutral, vaguely displeased expression as she addressed him. “Follow me.”

Ah, so it was time. As he followed Colonel Haley to the interrogation rooms, he carefully bundled up all knowledge that tied Kara’s identity to Supergirl, ruthlessly dividing the two into separate identities in his mind. It took rather a long time, and involved taking everything he’d learned about her as a child, all of his historical knowledge, and everything he’d seen in this time. Even if he hadn’t known about Kara’s identity, the fact remained that he had access to facial recognition software, and his own internal systems could have clocked her instantaneously. He had to ruthlessly shut that down too, forcibly rewriting the code in his mind to ensure that no matter what, his mind would be categorically unable to accept the idea that Kara Danvers was Supergirl. He’d already laid most of the groundwork immediately following Alex’s ‘debrief’. It was his own form of RTI training - far less time-consuming, but also probably more invasive than what most people would require. This way, though, it would be absolutely impossible for him to know the identity of Supergirl, and thus he would be unable to betray her confidence. He owed her and Alex that much, at least. After accessing the necessary information, he ruthlessly cut them off from the rest of his mind, only after setting a delayed timer to allow them to be accessed again in two hours, reverting his systems to normal operation. Most of Haley’s interrogations thus far had lasted for approximately thirty minutes, but he felt it was better to err on the side of caution. 

Tentatively, Querl probed his mind. He knew that Colonel Haley was taking him in to ask him about Supergirl’s identity, but he needed to be certain that he didn’t know anything before she started asking questions. He scoured his mind for clues, anything that might point to Supergirl’s civilian identity. Fortunately, he was unable to unearth a single hint. For a moment, he amused himself by wondering if she perhaps had no alternate identity to discover, imagining that perhaps she spent all her spare time in the fortress of solitude. That was highly unlikely, and Querl was distantly aware that there was a part of his mind that had been completely cut off from the rest of him. He couldn’t sense what was there at all, only by probing at it could he identify a sort of blank, emptiness that he was certain had not been there thirty seconds ago. He supposed that must be where Supergirl’s secret identity lay. He mentally congratulated himself for thoroughly burying all knowledge of her identity to the point that despite his considerable intellect he was unable to make even an educated guess, and followed Colonel Haley into the interrogation room.

“Agent Dox,” Colonel Haley began, indicating for him to take a seat, “I must express my displeasure with your unwillingness to cooperate so far, especially considering the risk I have taken in vouching for you.”

Querl lifted a single eyebrow in query. “I’m afraid I don’t understand to what you are referring,” he answered, though of course he had a few ideas.

“You must know that after Supergirl’s rebellion, quite a few higher-ups were worried about further dissention in the ranks, especially from other aliens,” she said, levelling her dark gaze at him. “I am disappointed that you did not volunteer your assistance in the hunt for Supergirl’s identity.”

“To be perfectly honest, Colonel Haley, I did not feel it was any of my business, and I have been quite occupied with my assigned work,” Querl answered carefully, not allowing his disgust to show on his features. It would serve no good to lose his cool now. 

“Why wouldn’t it be your business?” Colonel Haley leaned forward a little, her eyes glittering with the hint of danger. “She is a threat to our operations.”

“I have run the calculations,” Querl replied, quite honestly, “and it is quite statistically unlikely that Supergirl will impede the efficacy of DEO operations. Wasting my time attempting to learn her identity, however, is more statistically likely to result in impaired operations. Hence, I did not volunteer my services.” He leaned forward as well, meeting her gaze with a hard look of his own. “I am a pragmatist, Colonel Haley. It does the organization more good if I am able to do my job, rather than wasting my time on this political tiff between the President and Supergirl. I have no interest in politics. Allow me to do my job, and leave me out of this.” He considered ending it there, but the look that was crossing her features prompted him to add, “Please.”

“I find it very hard to believe that you don’t know Supergirl’s identity,” Colonel Haley said, leaning back in her seat again, her eyes fixed on his face like she was waiting for a reaction.

“Hard to believe as it may be, I don’t,” Querl replied. It wasn’t even a lie. He didn’t know, wouldn’t know, possibly ever again. He had no idea when that little blank spot at the back of his mind would return to him, if ever.

“If I ordered you to investigate, would you?” Colonel Haley challenged.

Querl sighed heavily. “As I have already said, it would be a tremendous waste of my time and your resources. I don’t know. I don’t know how long it would take for me to find out. She could be anyone, and I am not confident in my ability to learn her civilian identity.”

Eyes narrowed, Colonel Haley didn’t even blink. “I don’t believe you,” she said. 

“It’s the truth,” Querl replied, shrugging his shoulders briefly. 

Sighing, Colonel Haley stood. “Wait here,” she commanded, “I’m not done with you yet.”

Well. That sounded vaguely sinister. Querl nodded, mentally tallying the tasks he still had to perform for his job. This was going to be a colossal waste of time, and he really didn’t have time to spare these days. Also, Nia was still waiting for him to call back and arrange a time and location for their conversation, and he didn’t like to leave her hanging. It felt unprofessional.

Colonel Haley didn’t take long, fortunately, returning with a slim briefcase that she set on the interrogation table. Flicking up the latch, she opened it to reveal some restraints, a few strips of rubber tubing, four vials of varying sizes and shades, three bottles with pills inside, two small bags filled with powder, another bag with a crystalline substance, three syringes, and at least a dozen needles. Interesting.

Querl nodded to the case. “Benzodiazepines? Barbiturates? Amphetamines?” As he examined the vials more closely, he found himself reacting with real surprise. “You even have an extract of Thanagarian Florpelveria, very rare, how did you get that?” 

Colonel Haley didn’t answer, instead withdrawing the restraints and glancing at Querl, an icy look in her eye. “Jacket off, and put your wrists on the arms of your chair,” was all she said.

“Since you’ve neglected to ask, I must inform you that I have quite high resistance to most psychoactive substances,” Querl told her as he removed his jacket, laying it over the back of his chair before assuming the position she had requested. He wondered, somewhat absently, whether Colonel Haley had gone to this extreme in all her interviews. He hadn’t taken the time to thoroughly read up on the laws regarding the administration of contraband substances during interrogations, but he had a firm suspicion that it was frowned upon in most circles. “There is a very thin line between drug efficacy and reaching blood toxicity in my particular case - so do be careful. I know Director Danvers is a doctor, but if you yourself are not well versed in treating overdoses, you might wish to have a medical team on standby.”

Colonel Haley said nothing, simply shooting him a disgusted look as she took the first restraint and wrapped it around his wrist, affixing it to the chair. Odd, that she hadn’t gone with the handcuffs, though he supposed perhaps she was trying to avoid obvious marks. The cuffs would definitely leave an impression if he tugged against them. The velcro seemed far less likely to leave any evidence. So perhaps she was hoping to keep this quiet, after all. On the one hand, Querl supposed he could make a fuss. But what good would it do? He had nothing to hide, after all, he genuinely didn’t know Supergirl’s identity, and he was fairly confident that Colonel Haley wouldn’t kill him, if for no other reason than it would be very annoying to try and find another technician in the middle of this crisis. 

“I’m not going to use anything that could damage your mind,” she said, still a bit too calm about discussing the myriad of illegal substances in her little black case. “After all, I need your memory intact and your technical skills, as you’ve reminded me, are essential to our operations.”

Querl nodded slowly, quite relieved not to be facing the florpelveria extract, or any of the other mind-altering drugs Colonel Haley had in stock. “I see. What will you be using, then?”

The corner of Colonel Haley’s mouth twitched as she tightened the second restraint, moving back to her side of the interrogation table and withdrawing one of the vials, the label of which had been facing away from him. “I trust you are familiar with Bismollian Tarantula venom?”

It took more effort that Querl was willing to expend to control the look of surprise that flashed across his features. Tarantula was a bit of a misnomer - whichever alien they had acquired this substance from must have chosen to refer to an Earth arachnid in trying to describe the creature. In reality, the comparison was somewhat like comparing a honeybee to an asian giant hornet. Kystryyka, if that is what Colonel Haley meant by “Bismollian Tarantula”, were heavily armored ten-legged monstrosities which could grow to the size of an average Earth golden retriever. Their bite was widely regarded as the most painful way to die, not only on the planet Bismoll, but in their entire quadrant of the galaxy. There were, of course, treatments to reverse the damage done by a kystryyka, but if medical attention was not sought within 12 hours, the prognosis was quite unfavorable. “You have the antivenom?” Querl asked, cautiously.

Colonel Haley nodded once, slowly. “The venom isn’t psychoactive,” she said, almost too casually, rolling the vial in her fingers. “It primarily affects the peripheral nervous system, activating pain receptors. Most people who die do so because of psychological distress, the venom itself is virtually harmless.”

“I am aware,” Querl answered, watching the vial roll across her fingers, noting the way his emotions, particularly fear, were beginning to grow unruly in his mind. Internally, he scooped them up and shoved them into one of his boxes. He didn’t have time to be dealing with it at the moment, and emotions weren’t going to help him. “I don’t know anything about Supergirl's identity,” he said softly, lifting his eyes from the vial to meet Colonel Haley’s dispassionate gaze.

“I think you do,” Colonel Haley replied, “I think you know quite a bit, actually.”

“Colonel Haley,” Querl tried to appeal to her sensibility, “If you use that venom, it would be considered torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. A human rights violation.”

Not a smile but rather a horrible facsimile of a smile crept across Colonel Haley’s features as she stared back at him, still calmly rolling the vial of venom between her fingers. “Why yes, Agent Dox, you are correct. It is a human rights violation.”

For a moment, Querl could almost feel his heart stutter to a stop. Surely she couldn’t mean it like that. The Alien Amnesty Act was still in effect, contested though it may be. He had submitted all the paperwork to ensure his citizenship, his files were completely above board, he was a loyal employee of the DEO, she couldn’t do this! 

...could she?

“Now, Agent Dox,” Colonel Haley continued, setting the venom down and plucking a syringe from the briefcase, “You have a choice to make. Are you going to cooperate, or do you need convincing?”

Querl understood, now, why she had used the restraints, as he tugged against them instinctively. “I am a loyal employee!” he protested, “You cannot - I already told you that I don’t know anything!”

Colonel Haley stood now, her voice sharp and angry. “And I told you that I don’t believe you, Agent Dox.” She was practically snarling as she took one of the sterile needles and attached it to the syringe. “Tell me what I want to know.”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know,” Querl insisted frantically. His emotions were tumbling back out of the boxes and he was mentally scrambling, shoving his fear, resentment, bitterness, and mistrust wherever he could find space, his mind was scrambled, nothing was organized and he couldn’t seem to stop feeling, even though he needed nothing more than to be calm right now.  

With a disappointed look, Colonel Haley carefully inserted the needle into the vial of venom, withdrawing a small amount into the syringe. “I didn’t want to have to do this,” she said, as if she were scolding a child and not about to commit what amounted to a war crime. 

He was shaking now, throwing his weight against the chair. It was bolted to the floor, obviously, but he was well and truly working himself into a proper state of panic at this point, and so he continued to struggle. “Colonel Haley, please,” he begged. “Don’t do this, I really don’t know anything!” He was strong, stronger than the average human, and was beginning to suspect that perhaps these restraints had been favored over the handcuffs due to durability, too. He couldn’t get them to budge, no matter how hard he fought.

“I don’t believe you,” Colonel Haley said, looking vaguely irritated by his thrashing. “Convince me,” she intoned, carefully prepping the syringe, ensuring no air bubbles were contained within before turning to face him fully.

“Colonel Haley,” Querl pleaded, “Don’t do this. Please. Don’t.”

“Who is Supergirl?” Colonel Haley replied, calmly moving around the table.

“I don’t know!” Querl shouted.

“Will you help me find her identity?” Colonel Haley asked, voice cold, syringe in hand.

Querl froze. Sprock. “I… won’t.” he said softly. “No.”

“Then it appears you need convincing,” Colonel Haley answered. “Hold still.”

Querl had time to react, but what was the point? There was no escape. He’d made his choice, now he would have to live with the consequence. He sat still as she lifted his sleeve, jabbing the needle into the soft flesh of his upper arm. He could feel the venom as she carefully injected it - it burned a little going in. Then the burn began to spread, shocks like electricity dancing over his shoulder. A moment later, it felt as though his shoulder seized, like the worst muscle cramp he’d ever felt, but it kept getting worse. The pain had gone beyond unbearable and was now edging into incomprehensible. And it was spreading, the agony slowly trailing down his arm, nearing his elbow, easing across his shoulder, radiating into his chest, his back, his neck…

“Who is Supergirl?”

He didn’t know, he had no answer, he couldn’t reply, his jaw was clenched in an effort to hold back a scream.

“What is her identity?”

Querl felt dizzy - was he holding his breath? He must be holding his breath, if he exhaled it might come out as a shriek, did he even know how to breathe? The entire right side of his body was nothing but pain. He couldn’t sense anything beyond it, did he have a right arm? A right leg? It felt as though he was being dissolved in acid, but even then, the acid would deaden the nerves, eventually, this was like being dissolved in acid but regenerating at an equal rate. It hurt, it hurt, he couldn’t think like this, it was still going, his torso was screaming but his left leg was still okay, he could focus on that leg, try to shut out the rest of his body, but no, he could feel the prickle in his leg, soon he would have nowhere to hide from the agony, he couldn’t remember why this was even happening, time seemed to have lost all meaning, he could remember nothing, think nothing, all that existed was pain.

And suddenly, there was nothing. Querl breathed normally. Colonel Haley reached under his chin and lifted his head staring down at him, surprise in her eyes. “Agent Dox?” she said, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

He blinked back at her, trying to determine what had happened. It took him longer than it should have - he’d completely cut off access to his biological systems. His autonomic nervous system was still running, but he’d completely separated from it, cordoned off a small part of his mind that could only access his mechanical systems. It meant he no longer felt the pain, but he was also incapable of anything but the basic body functions that kept him alive. Also, running a system diagnostic, he noted that the pain was still affecting his body negatively. Even if he couldn’t sense it, here, his stress response was still spiking.

“Agent Dox, I have the antivenom,” Colonel Haley said, still holding his head aloft so she could look him in the eye. “But first I need to know Supergirl’s identity.”

I don’t know it, Querl thought. He couldn’t answer, though. He’d cut off access for a reason, if he went back to his body now, there was no guarantee he’d be able to respond anyway, given the pain he was currently experiencing.

“Listen to me, Agent Dox, I don’t like doing this, but she is a liability. I need to control her. You understand that, don’t you? Help me help you. Tell me what you know, and I will administer the antivenom.”

Querl sincerely wished he could throw her own words back in her face. I don’t believe you. If this was what she did to a loyal employee who opposed her, he didn’t want to know to what lengths she would go to control someone she saw as a threat. She could keep hurting him, sprock, she could let the venom kill him, if that’s what it took. He was never going to help her learn Supergirl’s true identity.

Colonel Haley watched him for another minute before dropping his head.

Querl didn’t have any way of controlling his body, so his head lolled against his chest, and all he could see were her boots. About two minutes later, his heart began to experience a concerning arrhythmia, likely due to the stress response the pain was causing. Perhaps Colonel Haley had used too high a dosage - of course, Querl had told her that he was resistant to psychoactive drugs. That didn’t extend to kystryyka venom, though he hadn’t thought to say so, as he’d thought it was obvious that kystryyka venom was not a psychoactive agent - she’d even noted as much herself. One bite’s worth of venom would have been sufficient. Querl hadn’t been able to spy the exact dosage, but he now suspected it was quite a bit more, or perhaps this was a concentrated form of the venom. Either way, he had a feeling that he had far less than twelve hours before his body would begin to suffer a life-threatening response to the venom.

As he thought it, his technical systems lit up frantically, dozens of error messages flooding his system. Grife, his heart had sprocking stopped, hadn’t it? He didn’t really have a choice, then, he had to brave the pain, Haley might not notice in time.

Oh sprock it hurt, his chest was on fire and it felt wrong. The wrongness was probably because the muscular organ was no longer beating, but the pain was definitely from the venom. Without blood flow, it wouldn’t spread any further, but it had already gone far enough to cause serious problems. “Heart,” Querl spat through clenched teeth, lifting his head, “stopped.” Black dots invaded his vision, soon pain would be the least of his worries. If he wasn’t resuscitated soon, he would experience brain damage. Even if it was only the biological part of his brain, it was so connected to his technical mind that the two really couldn’t function independently for any length of time.

That was the last thought he had for some time.

~

The first thing he noticed upon waking was that the pain had gone. The second thing he noticed was that he was still restrained.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Agent Dox,” Colonel Haley said. She didn’t sound pleased, but she also didn’t sound displeased. Mostly she sounded tired.

“I don’t know Supergirl’s identity,” Querl spat, “And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I know,” Colonel Haley said. “You’re free to go, as soon as you can stand.” With that, she removed the restraints, packing them into her black case.

Querl ran a quick system diagnostic. It wasn’t great. He would need time to recover fully. But he was well enough to return to work. He wasn’t sure he could, though. Not for someone like Colonel Haley, who saw no problem with torture, so long as the person wasn’t human. But he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Alex needed him. Supergirl needed him. He’d find a way to keep going.

Rising quickly, Querl snatched up his jacket, still laid over the back of the chair, and stormed out. He’d barely exited before Alex was there, hurrying to walk beside him as he fled the interrogation room.

“Brainy, hey, are you okay?”

Querl wasn’t sure how to respond, how did one go about explaining something like this? He couldn’t talk here, he had to get away from the room with Colonel Haley still inside.

“I was once interrogated for eighteen straight days on the planet Venegar by Ik’Lofrai’iork, the emerald bloodeater,” he began, his voice strained.

Ik'Lofrai'iork was a true sadist, but even he hadn’t resorted to kystryyka venom. Though that was likely in part because he preferred hands-on torture. It had taken a few days for the Legion to realize he and his away team had been waylaid, several more days for them to find him and his teammates, and a few more days to mount a rescue. He and the three Legionnaires who had been captured with him had sampled quite a few torture methods in those eighteen days, and all four of them had required extensive reconstructive surgery afterwards, several months of recovery, and Querl really should still be going to therapy, like the rest of them were, though he’d managed to bribe his way into a clean bill of mental health. Being a Dox - a Brainiac - who appeared to struggle with mental health was seen by all as a liability, and Querl refused to be seen as such.

He turned to look at Alex, whose face was lined with concern, and he paused briefly. “And let me tell you, Colonel Haley,” here Querl pointed demonstratively back at the interrogation room, “would give that ten-eyed beast a run for his money.” With that, he resumed walking, still eager to leave this whole experience behind him.

“But you didn’t tell her anything, right?” Alex asked, concerned.

Querl paused at the junction of the hall, realizing that Alex wasn’t done speaking yet. He scratched his neck awkwardly, trying to scrub off some of the sweat that had soaked his hair during the encounter. “Eh, there was nothing to tell,” he said, slowly walking back down the hall towards Alex. “She just kept asking me about Supergirl’s identity.”

“So you used your brain compartmentalizing thing with Kara,” Alex said.

Querl frowned, not quite sure what she meant by that. “What does Kara have to do with anything?” he asked. They were talking about Supergirl’s identity, what did Alex’s sister have to do with that? Perhaps this was some other Earth custom that he’d managed to screw up.

“Is this permanent?” Alex asked, now sounding concerned. “Or are you going to remember that she’s Supergirl soon?”

Querl stared at her in absolute disbelief. “Kara?” he repeated, almost wondering if he had misheard. “Your sister, with the, the glasses?” he couldn’t suppress the amusement that followed that particular statement. It was absolutely ludicrous, he would have certainly noticed if Kara was Supergirl. “Good one, Director, they don’t even look anything-”

Suddenly, the small blank spot that had remained locked up in his mind resurfaced, all of the information and memories it contained rushing back to him, the code to refuse to recognize Kara and Supergirl’s faces as identical, all of it reverted back to normal and Querl was left feeling slightly dizzy. “Oh.” He frowned. “Yes, my compartmentalization was on a timer.”

“Okay,” Alex nodded, a relieved smile crossing her features before her phone rang. She glanced at it, then answered, “Kara, hey, what’s up?”

Querl pulled his jacket back on while she listened.

“Okay,” Alex hung up, then glanced at Querl. “I have to go,” she began. “Hey, uh, just… maybe sit down,” she suggested, patting him on the shoulder as she left.

Querl squeezed his eyes shut, blinking a few times as he considered the recommendation. He doubted it would do any good, but he really couldn’t think of anything else to do. With a sigh, he headed for the control room. Perhaps he’d be able to locate their missing Navy SEAL. He wasn’t confident, but then, quite a lot had shaken his confidence recently. Still, he had a job to do. Colonel Haley could think what she wanted, but Querl was determined to remain a loyal employee of the DEO. After all, it was how he could best support Supergirl, and he knew now, more than ever, that she was going to need all the help she could get.

#querl dox #brainy #brainiac 5 #alex danvers #DEO #supergirl #fanfic #my fic

[danganronpa-21]

It is very late and I thought of a question that I really want to ask so here goes: if the survivors of V3 were a part of the hopes peak saga, how do you think they would fit into the world of Danganronpa 21? I understand if you don’t want to answer this because it’s V3 related I’m sorry if it’s not a good question but I think it would be fun to imagine Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko trying to get accustomed to normal life along with the rest of the cast.

Hey, don’t worry! Your question’s just fine, and even if I’m not the biggest fan of V3, I’ll totally answer. I do like some of it, after all!

Shuichi, I think, would absolutely be Kyoko’s apprentice. That’s the number one spot I can see him in a Danganronpa 21 context. After all that he’s been through, he probably thinks that he might be able to do some good with his skills – even despite the feelings he’d had about the job in the past. Unfortunately, I think that means that on certain cases, he’s a bit of a glorified babysitter. Seiko is still the heiress of the Kirigiri family, after all. She needs to help out with cases sometimes as apart of her training.

His relationship to Kyoko is probably pretty weird. I would definitely say it’s in the way of “Kyoko cares about Shuichi, but Shuichi can’t tell”. Seeing someone younger than her, who had survived the same things she had, would probably make her feel a little like she needed to look out for him. I imagine Shuichi would feel somewhat uncomfortable around Kyoko’s cold demeanor, but would try his best to do a good job at her side. Being the one looking after her daughter would probably only add onto that pressure. Still, I think Shuichi would get along with Seiko well enough. She’s an intelligent little girl with a lot of confidence; if anything I imagine she’d be an encouraging presence for him. She’d probably be tugging him along all the time, so eager to work with him and prove to him what she’s capable of. She treats him like a friend and thus Shuichi quite likes her, although her general impishness and disobedience can sometimes make her a bit of a headache for him to deal with. 

Honestly, apart from those two, Shuichi probably isn’t close with so many of the others. Like everyone else in the world pretty much, he has no idea that the cast of SDR2 is even really still around. So his connection to them is nonexistent. As for the surviving THH cast, he’s sort of just… friendly. He’s probably only met most of them a couple times, if Kyoko invited him to a party of some kind as a colleague. The people I would say he likes most from this group are likely Aoi and Makoto, as they’re easy to talk to and are generally kind people. In turn, he finds Byakuya and Toko especially challenging to speak with, as Toko tends to assume she’s being insulted and Byakuya is still very much… himself. He doesn’t hold much of an opinion on Yasuhiro, despite his ear being talked off about OOPArts at some gatherings. 

Shuichi’s relationships with the children are also probably limited. He knows a lot about Kameyo and Junichi given that they are Seiko’s friends, and she talks about them a lot, but he’s never really seen so much of the kids themselves. When he’s around at one of those social gatherings, the kids are usually off playing somewhere. He doesn’t know and is not close with Sakura, Leon, Natsumi, or Phoenix at all; and he sort of knows Hope and Koichi. For those last two, it’s mostly on account of the fact that they’re Kyoko’s kids. He recognizes their faces from the pictures in his mentor’s office, and talks to them a little bit when they’re around. Definitely sees about of his own insecurity in Koichi, and feels soothed by Hope’s cheerful nature. Sometimes. Other times, it makes him think of Kaede and that just hurts.

______________________

As for Maki, I see her taking some time to reflect on some of the things that she felt during the killing game. If placed in a DR21 context, I could see her using her skills as some sort of peacekeeper. Not necessarily as an assassin, but she could absolutely use them to quell anyone who is trying to disturb the peace. Since the world wouldn’t snap back into a normal state just like that, I could see Maki helping manage despair uprisings in the areas that were struggling a little more to get back on their feet. She would be like a protector of the people, ensuring that those who lived in the harsher parts of the country (and in this specific case, Tokyo) could go about their lives safely and comfortably. Not exactly as a form of law enforcement, but really something along the lines of ensuring that eventually, the country would be able to get back on its feet. I should also note that I don’t see this as something done by Future Foundation. Almost like a civilian-made group, I’m thinking.

I don’t personally see Maki having many relationships with the other Survivors from Trigger Happy Havoc and Goodbye Despair. In terms of the Goodbye Despair cast, she’s likely kept in the dark (like so many others) about what happened with them and often finds herself more comfortable that way. She mostly just wants to deal with things as they come up, for that’s mostly the way she seems to have lived her life. From the Trigger Happy Havoc cast, I imagine she finds the most interaction with people like Kyoko and Byakuya. She interacts with Kyoko more due to the fact that she is frequently made to investigate the happenings in the parts of the city that Maki oversees. Since despair would still be pretty high in some areas, Maki definitely helps her out in getting the details of riots, assaults, murders, all that bad stuff. The two of them have a purely professional relationship, with both of them being pretty cold at first glance, but they admire one another for the work they put into their jobs. Kyoko is regarded by Maki as a respectable woman, while Kyoko regards Maki the same – but with a little added appreciation, as she’s a friend of Shuichi’s. Thus Maki maintains a bit more importance to the detective than she knows. 

As for Maki’s relationship with Byakuya, it’s mostly on account of the donations he makes to the relief efforts. While at first she is adamant about her disgust of him (what kind of man says he’s only providing money for aid to ensure that his own life is better?), she finds that she slowly grows to appreciate the contributions he makes to the relief effort. While not particularly caring, he is willing to pledge great sums of money to ensure that the city gets back to its former glory. And if funds are cut, she knows she can count on him to bust in saying that he somehow had some cash to spare – even when she knows he didn’t. 

I personally don’t see Maki having any relationships with the children of DR21. Maybe Seiko, if she were briefly brought upon a case, but I think Kyoko would be less likely to bring her daughter on certain cases in rough parts of town. Especially since, for awhile, child kidnappings in the name of despair were pretty common. 

______________________

I’m a little boggled on where I’d put Himiko in this timeline. Is it weird of me to say I’d put her somewhere working with children? I mean, a cute, talented magician in a world-in-recovery-post-apocalyptic timeline? She’d be a huge source of comfort for people, especially the little ones who were born into such a confusing and troubling time. I could totally see her being a performer who goes around to schools and businesses and all those places that are slowly returning to their former grace and just absolutely igniting them with joy. 

In this case, I think it probably earns her a bit of a reputation — so I think she does have a little more attention from some of the Survivors. Especially considering that out of the six of them, Toko is the only one who doesn’t have a child. I think she’d definitely earn some appreciation from Aoi, Kyoko and Makoto as morale boosters, and who knows, maybe she’d be scheduled to visit Hope’s Peak during its first couple years to cheer everyone up! I like to think that there could even be an aspiring Reserve Class magician who goes to ask her about some of her tricks. As for some of the other Survivors, though, I think Yasuhiro would be unusually mystified by half of the stuff Himiko does — and would come up with these weird theories to how it works. He’d only be right sometimes, but most of the time he’d just be throwing out random theories. I don’t think Himiko is terribly amused by them, and keeps insisting that all of it is just real magic. 

As for relationships with the children, I don’t know how well she’d know any of them. Probably just on a surface-level, I think. Acquaintance relationships at most. If she had a favourite amongst the kids, it would probably be Kameyo, as she’s inclined to wholeheartedly believe in things like magic and monsters. Kameyo would probably think that Himiko and her magic tricks are just like, the coolest thing ever and I imagine Himiko probably takes great pleasure in having someone who just so totally loves what she’s doing.

______________________

In a DR21 context, the survivors of V3 would probably each be finding their own way in the changing world. I think one thing’s for certain though, and that’s the fact that they choose to stay together. I sort of picture them with a crappy downtown Tokyo apartment that they share. It’s probably kind of shabby but it’s got two bedrooms and a working bathroom and kitchen, so they don’t mind too much about how it’s not the best. They probably take turns cooking meals for one another, and likely do the same for the household chores. After the events of their killing game, I don’t think they’re anywhere near to being entirely back on their feet yet -- but they’re getting a start, and that’s what matters most.

#sorry this took me so long to answer #some of my followers i know were late to the V3 party and I didn't want to spoil anything for them!! #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #maki harukawa #shuichi saihara #himiko yumeno #danganronpa killing harmony

[anxiouslymalicious]

Until the morning comes.

Pairing: Ben Hardy x fem!Reader

Summary: A continuation of Until you keep your promises in which Ben and the reader meet again at Gwil’s wedding.

Word Count: 4,093

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and sex, the reader being down, the usual

A/N: holy shit. That was something. I really do hope you guys like it, I have spent so much time writing this and I think I’m quite content with it. There is still more to come! (Also the end bit was kind of inspired by ‘The Most’ by Miley Cyrus because I’m in love with that song and her and I adore the EP)

Oh, and I’m casually tagging @mamaskillerqueen because you wanted to be tagged last time and I’m not sure if you want to be tagged in every chapter? Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

You were hurting. It was more an emotional pain, but it had turned physical for the most part. Your eyes constantly stung with unshed tears. There was a constant knot in your chest, the feeling tightened whenever you saw happy couples on the street or on your social media. As you tried not to go outside much more than necessary, you could easily avoid most of those couples as you lowered your gaze, kept your earphones close and walked fast. Online, however, this proved to be much harder. Although you tried to stay away from platforms like Instagram, you couldn’t help but to check on what your friends you were doing. That, however, also included happy couples. You couldn’t help but stare at the pictures fans took of Rami and Lucy for hours on end and stalk Gwil’s Instagram account. Gwil had confided in you about wanting to propose to his girlfriend and when he did, you were one of the first people to know about it as you had helped him plan out the whole evening.

Gwil greatly appreciated that effort. He knew how much it hurt you, but you insisted on helping. If you couldn’t be in a functioning relationship yourself, you at least wanted to see your friends’ relationship bloom.

Summer passed quickly, and it was no surprise when the invitation to Gwil’s wedding came fluttering in. It was scheduled for the end of August, which was still months away as the invitation made its way into your mailbox, now, however, it was only about a week away and you still had to figure out whether you would tell Gwil that you were not feeling too hot or if you were going to buy a dress.

Ever since parting ways with Ben again, he had been texting you every day. Though, at first, you hadn’t replied, you now answered most of them. You were trying to be civil with him, no matter how much pain it caused you. Ben wasn’t doing any better, though.

Every text he sent was so carefully typed. He made sure that every word fit, that there was no way you could misunderstand anything, accentuating his intentions with emojis if necessary, that you knew how he felt and how he missed you. Because he truly meant it.

Neither of you had seen the other again after Helen drove off, it still seemed impossible to you to look at his gorgeous face again without bursting out in tears and breaking down, but you knew that you couldn’t avoid him for much longer. Gwil had told you immediately that he was going to invite Ben, too. He didn’t see a reason to be anything but honest with you. You, obviously, hadn’t expected him not to. You met Gwil through Ben, they had been close friends for longer than you had even known Gwil, so you were aware that there was no way he would leave Ben out.

“I don’t think I’m ready to face him.”, you told Helen as you were pacing in your living room. Over the past months, you had gotten a raise for throwing yourself into much more work than your boss had asked you to and, thus, impressed her. With the new budget and some newfound determination to not let Ben get to you like he had last time, you and Helen had managed to find a flat for yourself.

It was tiny, but in a nice location and your neighbours were all rather friendly. The flat had a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom and a room that you used for literally everything else. It wasn’t too big, but, by far, big enough for you. It was a heavenly offer and you didn’t hesitate to rent it.

So far, the flat was rather empty. You only owned what was necessary, it was still missing decorations to become a more comfortable living place. And it was missing memories to become an actual home.

“You will never be ready. But do you really want to miss out on your friend’s wedding because you are afraid of seeing Mr. Dickhead himself?”, Helen was eyeing you as she stuffed her mouth with yet another spoon of her favourite ice cream.

“I hate you.”, you mumbled as you crossed your arms in front of your chest and dropped to the couch.

“I know, I love you, too.”, she replied, the words muffled by the ice cream in her mouth. You two giggled.

“You’re disgusting.”, you told her as you stuffed your own mouth with a spoonful of your favourite ice cream. You had placed it on the table as you started pacing earlier.

“But you haven’t thrown me out yet. And we’re going shopping together tomorrow so I can’t be that bad.”, Helen replied as soon as she swallowed.

It was true. You had asked Helen to help you find a dress you could wear to Gwil’s wedding. She was your best friend and knew exactly what you liked and what suited you best so there was no one else who could possibly do that job better than her.

And so, Helen stayed over for the night, too lazy to make her way back home, and you two got up early on that rainy Saturday morning to go shopping.

It had taken you no less than 12 different shops, what felt like 100 dresses and almost the whole day to find something that you liked. It was a mostly black rockabilly dress with roses ranking up from the seam to your cleavage. Matching the style of your dress, you had also bought red shoes and a thin red belt.

The dress made you feel beautiful. It hugged your curves just right, accentuated the parts of your body that you liked and hid the parts that you disliked. It was a black rockabilly dress. Red roses adorned the bottom of the dress, near the seam and near your cleavage. When you stepped out in the dress, you felt your heart flutter. It was the first time you felt this good while looking into a mirror since that one time Ben had tried to ease your insecurities.

Helen noticed the way you looked at yourself, and the way the men in the store looked at you and knew that this was the dress. The one dress you had to take home. So, being the good friend she was, she didn’t leave room to discuss and told the young woman helping you two that she could stop looking.

Later that evening, you two walked to a little restaurant to have dinner together, then headed back home. It was strange walking into an empty flat, knowing that you would stay alone for the night. You were still used to expecting someone to come home. Whether it was Ben or Helen.

Ben had texted you once more. He was telling you about how Frankie was missing you, still looking for you in his flat, although you had moved out months ago. It seemed like you were not the only one who was taking longer to get used to this new living arrangement than expected.

‘Frankie is not the only one who feels weird about being alone like this. But I guess all of us have to get used to it. I’m sorry I took so long to reply, but I was looking for a dress for Gwil’s wedding and Helen didn’t really give me a minute to breathe.’, you texted Ben as you finally got changed into your pyjamas and lay down in your bed. It didn’t even take Ben a minute to reply.

‘So I’m going to see you there?’

‘I told Gwil that I would be there, and I didn’t spend that much money on a dress and a new pair of shoes to not wear them.’

‘Do you want me to stay away from you or can we talk? I miss your voice. I miss you. I swear I’ll keep my hands to myself, I just want to be able to be spend time with you again. I haven’t seen you in months.’ Ben’s reply felt so sincere, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. But you also couldn’t help but let a few tears fall.

You were missing him dearly. You missed being close to him. You missed his morning breath and his perfume. You missed the way he would randomly hug you from behind and kiss your cheek whenever you were doing housework. You missed the way he would look at you when you told him to go out with someone else because you didn’t feel to good about yourself. You missed lazy Sunday mornings in bed with him and the hazy state both of you found yourselves in after sex.

‘We can talk. Let’s just try not to talk about anything that might cause drama. I don’t want to ruin their special day. Good night, Ben.’, you texted him, knowingly not replying to him telling you that he was missing you and that he wanted to spend time with you. You couldn’t reply to that. Not right now.

You put your phone on the nightstand, the display facing downwards, as you plugged it in and turned around to go to sleep.

Over the following days, you and Ben had texted some more. He mentioned missing your relationship and you a few more times, but you couldn’t make yourself reply to those phrases, instead talking to him about other things.

Now, you found yourself getting ready for the wedding. You were truly anxious to face Ben again, but you talked to Gwil once more and he and the rest of the BoRhap cast vowed to help you out when you found yourself in an uncomfortable situation with Ben. How exactly they wanted to do that, you were not sure, but you were certain that you were to find out later that day.

The ceremony started rather early in the morning. It took place in a beautiful little garden. Nothing too big or fancy, just right. It was definitely magical.

The second you arrived at the venue, Lucy had already wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug. You hadn’t seen her, Rami and Joe in ages and you had missed each of them a lot.

“You look gorgeous! How are you doing?”, Lucy asked as she pulled out of the hug again and held you at an arm’s length, staring at you intently. You knew exactly what she meant, but you decided not to get into great details. Not today.

“I’m good. A bit tired, but good.”, you replied and small-talk ensued as she took you to where Joe and Rami were standing under a tree, seeking the shadow.

“YOU’RE ALIVE!”, Joe yelled as soon as he spotted you, making you jump lightly. You knew Joe and you were aware that he was rather goofy, but you definitely hadn’t expected him to yell. A lot of the other guests that had arrived early had probably turned to watch your little group, but you couldn’t care less.

“Don’t be so sure about that. Maybe I’m a ghost”, you told him with a wink before hugging him tightly.

“That’s unlikely. You’re radiating with life.”, Rami told you as you moved to hug him.

“He’s right.”, you heard the all too familiar deep voice right behind you. The boys were looking nervous, their gaze moving rapidly between you two. You blushed, your arms raising to cross in front of your chest as you turned to face him.

The moment your eyes met, you felt your heart skip a beat or two and you were not sure whether it was because of the feelings you still had for him or if it was due to the way he looked.

Ben looked a lot better than he had when you met him in the café. Back then, he looked like literal death. Now, there was still some evidence that he was not doing too well, but it wasn’t nearly as obvious. He looked good in his suit, the white jacket, coincidentally with some little flower embroidery on his chest, but there were a few things off about him.

His hair, for one, was a tad bit longer, his curls coming through, but it looked strangely dull, not as shiny as it usually did.

His smile did not reach those gorgeous green eyes, the dark circles under his eyes, however, were quite prominent in his face.

Ben looked paler. Like he hadn’t really seen the sun too much throughout the summer. You knew that he was gone for filming and didn’t spend too much in rainy London, but you thought he would have at least a hint of a healthy tan. He did have a little blush on his cheeks, though, as he stared down at you.

The last thing you had noticed about his looks was his lips. They looked very chapped and you immediately understood why as Ben pulled his lip in between his teeth and gnawed lightly at it.

You felt how your cheeks heated up and gazed towards your feet rather than his face and nodded a bit.

“Thanks, Ben. You don’t look to bad yourself.”, you replied quietly. His smell filled your nostrils. It was that divine smell of the perfume you had gotten for him on his last birthday.

“We both know that you’re lying, love.”, Ben chuckled under his breath, his hand finding its way to your upper back, almost like he was asking for permission to hug you. Your friends were eyeing you carefully and especially Lucy and Joe looked like they were having a telepathic discussion on how to proceed with the current situation.

You raised your hand to pat Ben’s back, giving him a weird little side-hug.

“Hey, Y/N, I think we should get something to drink, don’t you? It’s so warm and I’m thirsty! Anyone want something?”, Lucy suddenly asked, grabbing your arm and taking a few steps back with you.

“Yeah, sure.”, you told her. The guys politely declined the offer, giving you and Lucy the opportunity to escape. Joe quickly engaged in a lively discussion with Ben and Rami, but you felt Ben’s eyes on your back as you left.

You had finished the first drink of the day, a decent glass of white wine, before you had even seen Gwil or his bride, but it didn’t matter to you. Your goal was to reach a level of drunkenness in which you didn’t feel uncomfortable talking to Ben by the end of the day. You wanted to have at least one nice conversation with him and you could already tell that it was going to be tough.

Soon, you had met Gwil. He was a nervous mess, always fiddling with something, stumbling over his words, but as soon as he looked into his soon-to-be bride’s eyes, he found some grounding and managed to get his vows out with only a few stutters.

You were crying. Full on ugly crying. You didn’t even try to hold back the tears, it stung too much, and you knew that you would cry sooner or later. Sooner was better, though. Gave you more time to fix your make up or even an excuse to leave earlier.

A tissue entered your field of vision. Ben was holding it out to you, silently asking if you needed it. You gave him a thankful nod before carefully dabbing at the tears.

“Here, let me help.”, Ben said once the ceremony ended and you were safe from tears for the moment. His hand was under your chin, carefully tilting your face up so he had a better view. Ben’s tongue poked out lightly between his lips as he was unbelievably focused on fixing your makeup.

“You are by far the most beautiful person here. And that’s a lot to say, Joe is standing only a few steps away from us in that new suit of his.”, Ben told you teasingly, his lips forming into a grin as he wet his lips with his tongue. You giggled lightly. By now, you had had quite a bit to drink and the alcohol was slowly kicking in.

“I appreciate the compliment, Ben.”, you told him sincerely as your own hand found his wrist. There was a strange moment of silence between you two, neither of you knew what to say, nor how to act. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it was the opposite, really. You hadn’t felt this comfortable near Ben in quite some time and it was like you were falling in love with him all over again. You lost yourself in those familiar green eyes, in that warm smile that finally reached his eyes.

That was, until Joe came tumbling by.

“Gwil is looking for you guys for the pictures!”, Joe excitedly told you as he pushed himself in between you and Ben, wrapping an arm around each of your shoulders as he walked you to the photographer.

You and Ben hadn’t gotten a new chance to talk for quite some time that day, Joe was always trying to guide him away from you. Whether it was during the reception, the dinner, he did not let Ben leave his sight for a single second. After that sincere moment between you and Ben, you were almost mad at Joe for fulfilling that task so well. Scratch that, you were mad.

You were sitting with Lucy and Rami throughout most of the wedding. Lucy continuously glanced towards you, opening her mouth as if she was trying to ask what had been going on between you and your ex-boyfriend earlier that day, but she stopped herself, opting to talk about something else instead.

But at some point, she and Rami were slow dancing together and you made your way to the bar, ordering a new drink. You didn’t know how many drinks you already had, but you were past the point of caring. The wedding had continuously reminded you of what you couldn’t have and it hurt too much to force yourself through it in a sober state. By now, the wedding had reached a point where most people only stayed to get drunk anyway, so one more drunk did not matter.

A sigh escaped your lips as you stared at the colourful cocktail the bartender had mixed for you.

“Would you mind if I sat here with you?”, Ben’s deep voice sounded near your ear, drowning out the loud music.

“Not at all.”, you replied, still eyeing your drink. Ben quickly ordered something for himself, then moved his chair closer to yours.

“It’s good to see you again.”, Ben told you as he sipped away at his own drink.

“Same goes for you. Though it’s a shame that little Frankie isn’t here with you.”, you replied with a little smirk.

“Well, you could always come home with me and see her, love.”, he told you with an equal smirk, pushing your shoulder with his own lightly. You giggled.

“You know full well that I won’t. Not now.”, your mood dropped again instantly. Ben noticed. He picked up on it and instead pulled out his phone to show you goofy pictures of Frankie.

Both of you had ordered a few more drinks until you were both in that tranquil and giggly state that never lasted too long. You two were still quite aware of your surroundings, you had full control over your limbs, but you had forgotten about your worries. And so, it wasn’t a surprise that, when you and Ben found yourselves staring at the starry sky above you, you took a step closer to Ben. He wrapped his arms tightly around you. His own gaze had settled upon your face long ago, you were a much prettier sight than the stars.

“Y/N.”, he mumbled. You looked up at him with a hum.

“Please tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”, he told you, his eyebrows knitted together as he watched your expressions. His face was one of pure worry. He was scared that you would push him away, but he was even more scared that you wouldn’t. In your utterly happy state, you moved to stand on your toes and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss felt so comfortably familiar. You were sure you could get drunk off the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands pulling you closer by your waist as your own hands tangled in his curls. Little moans escaped your lips just as much as his as your lips messily moved against each other, but neither of you could care less.

Soon, Ben’s kisses moved from your lips to your cheeks, over your jaw, to your neck. He easily found your sweet spot and you were already putty in his hands.

“Please take me to your room.”, you asked Ben breathily as you gave his curls a tug, knowing full well that he had also booked a room at the hotel the reception was held at, just like you and many other guests had.

“Wasn’t planning on leaving you here.”, Ben mumbled as he moved his lips to press against yours again in a short, but sweet, kiss, before taking your hand in his and walking back inside. You two avoided being seen by either Gwil, Joe, Rami or Lucy surprisingly well, and stumbled towards the elevator that would bring you to Ben’s room.

As soon as you stepped into his room, you two moved messily with each other, still knowing each other’s bodies quite well, but the alcohol in your systems made everything a little harder.

“I missed this…”, you mumbled once you curled up against Ben’s sweaty chest. Your muscles were aching, the aftereffects of the by now unfamiliar movements slowly kicking in. Ben nodded lightly, still out of it from his orgasm, as his fingers ran through your hair in a soothing manner.

“You don’t need to miss this.”, he told you seriously.

“I know, but I don’t think I can do this just yet. And I understand that you might want to move on and look for a new person to grow old with- “, you started, but Ben stopped you with a soft kiss to your lips.

“Stop it. I love you the most. I love you more than anyone or anything. You can push me away as much as you want to, I’ve been a dick, I deserve it, but I won’t stop loving you.”, Ben’s voice was soft as his eyes were focused on your own.

“Your touch feels so good. And I’m not talking in a sexual way only. When you fixed my make up earlier today, I just. I don’t know. It’s like you made all of this pain go away.”, you mumbled tiredly. Your eyes were starting to droop, staying awake was hard.

“I know, I feel the same. And I miss how you made me feel better about my body. How you can kiss all my worries away. How you were always the more rational one and helped me through my life when I couldn’t think straight. All I need is you and I can’t believe that I am here with you. That you let me be so close to you.”, Ben mumbled. His words were almost slurred, the alcohol and his own tiredness were a deadly combination for words.

“Can you keep your promises?”, you asked, suddenly sitting up. You made a move to get out of his bed, but Ben caught your wrist and pulled you back.

“I can try. I promise to stay with you until you wake up and if you regret anything we did when you’re sober again, I will leave you alone. Do anything you want. But please stay for the night. I don’t want you to walk out there all the way to your room all on your own and I can’t get up and bring you to your room. I’m too tired, love.”, Ben whispered, watching your every move.

“I’ll stay until the morning comes.”, you grinned tiredly. Your room was only a few steps away from his, but you had always adored this embarrassingly protective side of Ben, but you knew he was only joking, looking for an excuse to get you to stay.

“Until the morning comes.”, Ben repeated, already half asleep as he tugged you into his side, holding you close to him as both of you drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

A truly extraordinary morning was about to come.

#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy one shot #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy x female reader #ben hardy x reader fluff #ben hardy x reader angst #borhap cast x reader #borhap cast #borhap imagine #joe mazello x reader #gwilym lee x reader #lucy boynton x reader #rami malek x reader #ben hardy x you #margit writes #until

[fmdjaeinarchive]

idol headcanon meme / accepting!

Send ☎ for a bad fan experience headcanon. ( 235 words )

thankfully, she hasn’t had too many terrible fan experiences so far. being part of a girl group means that they have less sasaeng fans and lucid’s fanbase at the moment is not the biggest. a big part of their listeners is the general public as proven through their high digital charting. there’s still a while before jaein thinks she can confidently say that lucid has a strong fandom. 

however, that doesn’t change the fact that even with a small fandom there exist a few rotten apples. after the concept change, there was an increase of older male fans. jaein does not dislike every older male fan. most of them aren’t even that creepy. they genuinely do support the group and simply use lucid’s music to get through their stressful everyday lives. 

there was one time at a fansign though where a male fan came up to her and handed her a pacifier, asking her to wear it. you could say she was definitely shocked and absolutely disgusted that anybody thought that was a present. though she couldn’t be visibly furious at the male, she did her best to avoid having to wear it, and one of the fan managers thankfully caught on quickly and took it away, rushing the man to the next member quickly. she absolutely hates being infantilized, and that’s one memory that she tries her best to burn out of her mind.

Send ♞ for a non-performance talent headcanon. ( 218 words )

jaein’s really good at memorizing directions and streets. she can memorize the way to a certain location after the first time, and she doesn’t even know why. perhaps it’s just one of those things that she was born with. this may not be a talent to some, and jaein doesn’t even have her license yet so it’s definitely not useful in anyway, but this can be utilized in other ways and doesn’t only apply to physical roads and driven directions though that’s mostly where it comes from. 

this comes in handy when she’s playing games that require memorization of directions or orders though it is a little rusty when it comes to remembering words. it mostly has to do with paths. for example, if she’s playing a game where she has to remember the correct order of steps taken on like a chessboard, she can ace it on one try. it might be more proper to say that she has a good sense of direction? 

anyway, this isn’t a talent that’s totally useful at the moment, but it does come in handy at times when she’s on variety shows, and they ask her if she has any hidden talents. it usually does a good job of making people surprised enough that she isn’t cut out of the broadcast.

Send ❂ for a voice-related (singing or rapping) headcanon. ( 257 words )

when jaein first entered dimensions as a trainee, she wasn’t a vocal-focused trainee. she was never really confident in her voice, and she never thought that she’d ever debut with the position of ‘lead vocal’ locked under her belt. the female was given more attention on improving her dancing because they saw more potential in that. she only started being shifted towards a vocalist after two years or so when one of the vocal trainers at dimensions thought that she could really improve if given the right amount of attention and training. since then, they decided to push her into both directions and apparently she did well enough to be labeled a lead vocalist. however, even to this day, she feels more comfortable being grouped in with the dance-line than the vocal line because lucid’s other two vocalists (the main vocal and the lead vocal) are much better than she is. 

if someone were to ask her what she likes about her voice, she would say that she enjoys her timbre. it’s not exactly her vocal color but rather the deeper and richer tone it gives off when she sings. she can’t belt out high notes and is rather given more mid to low-tone lines in lucid’s songs. that’s worked so far with lucid’s concepts and songs, but she wonders if their songs will become brighter thus making it more difficult for her timbre to match the mood. this also means that she finds that her voice fits better with their darker concept than the lighter one.

#fmdmeme003 #( ✧ ・ﾟ ― headcanon. ) #fmdyuanjun #fmdtaeyong #fmdjiah #[ the non-performance one is so random... ]

[theorynexus]

This would seem to bring us to Post Number 60, the 62nd post of this series, if you count the decimalized ones.

LAST TIME ON MEAT EPILOGUE It would seem we are returning to John and Terezi, this time--- wooo!~   Apparently, he looks pretty bad. This is unfortunate. On the other hand:  YES, MEAT EPILOGUE CHAPTER/SECTION 6!!!

Hey, don’t try to shame John for being the sub in this situation. It’s not like he has experience with that kind of thing (not that it’s something generally to be ashamed of: I’m just saying that it is something he seems to be somewhat embarrassed about, and his inexperience meant that it wasn’t exactly by choice on his part--- which is not to suggest that Terezi molested him in any way).  Aaaannnd Trolls (especially highbloods) are supposed to be particularly vicious in nature, generally, right? It makes a whole lot of sense that that would extend to the bedroom, as well.

... But yeah, that doesn’t help with his health. He was already doing pretty badly, just after the surgery. He didn’t really need that sort of mess tacked on afterward.     Oh, and... why “mysteriously” sticky, you derp? XD

And I am glad you were kidding.   (That slapping was very interesting to hear. Hmmm.)      Yeah, him being confused and uncertain about it also feels just about right~ ~~~ On a random note, I am reading this just after going through the memo where Karkat, John, and Dave were talking about romance/the propagation of the species, and KK insisted that John and Dave stay away from troll women.    That makes this all wonderfully hilarious, in retrospect. 

Huh. I’ve never seen “cuckold” used in that sort of context before.  Indeed, this is quite the question, though.  Could John Egbert handle a blackrom? A caligionous one, at that?   A very hard question, that is.   I’m not sure he’s emotionally capable of giving himself into the kinds of hate and playful ribbing that would be constantly involved in that kind of relationship, if healthy.  I suspect it might have been just a particularly violent flushed thing, though.  We’ll see.

Pffft. Slithers.   That said:  Huh. I was not expecting that turn. Let’s see where this goes~

Oh my gosh, Dirk, would you stop being such a downer? XD I think this is indeed very, very cute~     Soul-shattering is a weird sort of term to use there, for a normal person. Seems right for Dirk, though. He understands the nuances of how shattering can be more or less than a whole break.

That is practically the definition of a subjective judgment.  I know you’re being ironic and all, but come on, man, that’s just base as heck. But yeah, I think he might have it bad, indeed. 

The question here is, “Does he mean to suggest that Andrew Hussie is God to him, or does he mistakenly [in the context of Homestuck, which has given no distinct evidence for it] believe that there was a God that he actually usurped?”   “replaced” is a very interesting and useful word, here, given the working interpretation that I have is indeed that he is interpreting AH as God and likely believes him to have abandoned Homestuck, thus removed himself from his directorial capacity over its narrative, until he managed to take over.

WHY ARE NEITHER OF YOU THINKING OF RETCON-PORTING IN TO RESCUE HER FROM HER DEMISE BEFORE IT HAPPENS?!?!?!? But yeah, you really should get home and recover first, if it is possible.

Whoops. Not a good sign. Noooot a good sign.

The Power of Three is a very strong thing.

Here we gooooooo!!!~    The first time (I think) that I’ve continued a post beyond one page!!!

No.  Also, probably Jake English. He has strange effects on people.

Wow, someone’s a bit miffed.  That said: Hooray, acknowledgement by the narrative! :’D

I do not appreciate your repeated suggestions that Jake is dumb! That said: No. No, I do not want to engage in wanton promiscuity with such a man.  I am, to put it quite simply, not interested in meaningless sexual encounters with people I am not deeply connected with. Even if I had such a bond with Jake English, I would not be inclined to engage in such activities. Quite frankly, I am not exactly partial to the type of equipment he sports. As for the political side of things... well, that’s complicated. Yeah, people can indeed become far too energized by the attractiveness of candidates and those associated with them, rather than their substance.  Maybe that’s the case, here.   I’d like to think that the actual results of the election will in fact prove people wrong. Maybe there will be exit polls that we can see excerpts of to judge things for certain.   I don’t know~

FINALLY, SOMEONE FRICKING ADMIRES THE SUFFERER!!!

Eh?  I mean, I guess even Dave and Karkat were acknowledging the possibility of a misstep. We’ll see what happens.

Heee’s probably gonna try to sabotage this, isn’t he?   Also, I wish I were more familiar with human muscle anatomy.

“The Kibosh” is a good phrase to use.  That said:  ***snerk***    It’s like Karkat has wedding day jitters. XD

Man, it is annoying how spiteful you are toward him, Dirk. Can you give him a break for just a second?   I mean, you probably caused the sweating to begin with.

Wow. Such dudebroism, which I just suddenly realized/-membered Dirk was supposed to slightly embody, somewhat.  (I blame Gamebro Magazine, and the sharp contrast between the diction there and Dirk’s writing style.) That is a funny description, though, the brain-tonguing.  Also, gosh, Jake is nervous.

Oh, hey, I think Dave’s going to finally get a feel for the Narrative, and maybe end up confronting Dirk.  That will be incredibly interesting.

Wow, this is getting to him.  It’s like he’s made of sugar, and someone’s just begun to drizzle water on him.  Or maybe made of witch.

***lip curls up in a snarl***    Dave better make this quick.  I am somehow edging on more angry at this Unreliable Narrator than I was before Alt!Calliope took over...!

Well, that’s, umm... interesting. Particularly, the cultivated Obfuscating Stupidity bit. But moreso the fact that Dirk will acknowledge he’s smarter than he seems.

Yes... I think I most definitely am more furious than ever at this piece of garbage, now.  After the sweet taste of freedom that Jake was finally able to feel, and the burst of confidence he’d found in it, you pour all of this blithering waste on him?   Jane was trying to use him!   I’m sure she hasn’t loved him for a long time, and even then, I Jake never toyed with her heart intentionally, I’m sure!   Grrrrr...!

Honestly, though, he brings up a complicated and intriguing question.  Jake has definitely been used and abused throughout his history, and at least part of his recent activity to exploit his Hope-y Assets must have been Dirk’s doing, but how much of his sexually promiscuous revelry has actually been something that he would not and did not choose, say, as a result of his drinking problem, rather than him reveling in his identity as a   

WORLD RENOWNED EXPLORER-NATURALIST-TREASURE HUNTER-ARCHEOLOGIST-SCIENTIST-ADVENTURER-BIG GAME HUNTER-BILLIONAIRE EXTRAORDINAIRE 

 just as your pre-Scratch self was?  Regardless of the level of culpability he actually has in the matters of his life, he is nowhere near deserving of this kind of shaming, and Dirk should be ashamed of himself for this kind of disgusting behavior which he is almost certainly engaging in specifically to throw Jake off.

Oh, also, victim blaming is BS, and the answer is an unequivocal, “You, you insincere, megalomaniacal, self-justifying dirtbag.”

***is so fricking ANGRY that it is taking a great deal of willpower not to release a roar of primal fury and break my hand on my computer screen*** THIS IS NOT HOW HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS WORK!!! THAT IS NOT HOW SOMEONE WHO IS ACTUALLY WILLING TO SUBMIT TO YOU LIKE THAT WILL BEHAVE, YOU FFF---     ***RRRRRGH!!!***

YOU HAD BETTER NOT FRICKING LISTEN TO THIS GARBAGE, JAKE!!! RESIST HIS INFLUENCE, AND---         Huh. The thought just occurred to me that both Dave and Jake could be interpreted as stand-ins for Simon, if Dirk were Kamina (despite how different Kamina’s personality is from Dirk’s), because Simon really seems like he could be interpreted as a Page of Hope too, for some reason (but curse my ADHD! XwX)   ---AND DEFEAT HIM WITH YOUR HOPE BUBBLE!!!

...  At least he apologized. For what that is worth.    This is going to seem so obvious to Dave, though.  Obviously, he isn’t going to kill his Bro, but... well, let’s see how things turn out. Hmm. Also, this is hilarious insofar as it derailed the press conference and probably took away much of the steam that could have been generated for the Karkat/Vantas ticket by Jake’s endorsement, but it doesn’t exactly do all that much for Jane Crocker’s side, either.  It was a very sickening and weird spectacle, but I am not sure how it will actually play out in their favor?   Seems like it might cause Jane’s side trouble, and might cause tensions between them.

I still can never consistently remember what “smh” means. But yes, “HICCUP???” is right.   STOP HIM, DAVE!!!  

TACKLE HIM AWAY INTO THE FUTURE!!!

Realistically, he should have no problem with speed at all. Time power shown a la cheating with Jade in games should let him get there instantly, and even his flash step that he has shown since before entering the Game should allow him to get there on time.      Man, Dirk is a prick about manipulating things. Especially since we are going to see things derailed and shift to another setting, right when Jake is supposedly going to make the biggest contribution he’ll ever make.  WHICH DOESN’T EVEN FRICKING MAKE SENSE!!!

#Homestuck Epilogue #Homestuck Spoilers #Homestuck Liveblog #Rage #Dirk Strider #Evil #Piece of Garbage

[meat-husband]

Finally got the alphabet stuff done for Jason c:

You can find the others I’ve done here.

NSFW and Fluff alphabets are below the cut!

NSFW HC

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s prepped and ready. Extra blankets are already at the foot of the bed, there’s a glass of water on your table and he’s got a plate of leftovers waiting in the fridge in case you’re hungry. He doesn’t need rest himself, so he’s ready to get you whatever you need to be comfortable.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes hands, on both of you. Holding you down and squeezing you, he likes knowing how easy it is to control you with nothing but his body. He isn’t used to much physical touch, so anything from holding hands to your nails clawing at his back is fine with him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He doesn’t have a preference at all, but he’ll put it wherever you ask for it. You’re in a messy puddle at the end of everything, but he doesn’t mind.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s always taken it off before, but he would probably die of happiness if you rode his face with the mask on. Having you so close, licking at the holes in the plastic in an attempt to taste you, but he can’t deny you when you tell him to take it off.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s got no experience at all, and for the most part no desire for it, until you’re around. It’s not that he wasn’t capable of arousal before, but he’s never seen another person as an equal and thus as a partner before. He’s got the general idea down, but not the details, so you’ve still got to do the bulk of the work when it comes to showing him how it’s done.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He couldn’t pick just one, but no matter what you start out doing, you’re flat on your back or stomach within a few minutes. He’s big and strong, so you’re going to have a hard time keeping yourself upright. He’ll hold you up if you ask, but he sort of likes squishing you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’ll follow your lead on what kind of mood is being set, but he tends to be more towards the serious end of things. He’s always eager and very focused on doing things right, carefully following instructions and watching for what you like best.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t have enough hair on his head to really need to do anything with it, and there’s little to none everywhere else. He would just wait and let the rain take off whatever gore sticks to him, so you’ve got to clean him up if you want it done.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He’s a sucker for romantic stuff, but once things start getting heated he’s a little less sweet and soft. He’ll still grip your hands in his or kiss you, but he’s tougher about it and more demanding.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He didn’t really think of it before, but once you show him how to do it, he’ll take care of himself every once in a while. He really still prefers you being involved, even if it’s just him watching you from a distance while he does it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He likes picking you up and throwing you around, getting you positioned just how he wants you. It’s not really a show of strength on his part, he just likes being the one in charge. He’ll move you both around however you ask him if there’s a certain way you want to do things.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The little cabin you share is the most common, but anywhere outside is fair game too, he doesn’t mind doing it in the dirt. You’ve tried it in your car once, but there just wasn’t enough room to move around with how much space he takes up.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Pretty much anything really. He loves being affectionate or sweet with you, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to dry hump you while doing it.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn’t really get the idea of roleplay, it wouldn’t interest him at all. Dressing up is fine, but he’s not going to play pretend or act anything out.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Either is fine with him, although you’ve got to take a lot of care with both. He can be a little too eager and get rough with his teeth. For you, it’s more the difficulty of actually fitting him in your mouth, and keeping him still enough to do it.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Even when he’s riled up and being rough with you, he tends to take it slow naturally. He’ll change it up sometimes, but he prefers gently rocking his hips into yours. When he does speed it up though, he can’t keep it up for long because it’s a bit much for you to deal with all at once.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Any sex is good sex, he’s not gonna say no to either. He doesn’t have a preference most of the time, just when the mood strikes him one way or the other. It’s more practical to have more quickies than full, drawn out sessions just because he wants it so often, otherwise you’re going to constantly be exhausted.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

There isn’t much risk to take, being so isolated, but he’s up to try almost anything you suggest at least once, he’ll let you know if he doesn’t like it. Even things he doesn’t particularly like he’s open to doing again, if it’s something you want.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

If he had his way, he’d only have to stop when there were trespassers to kill. He’ll go as long as you want him to, so it’s really up to you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

If you happen to own any that you want to use together, he’ll be more than happy to. He’d be open to using some himself as well, but he’s not a real big fan of toys in general, so it would probably only be when you ask for it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t have it him honestly, he’s not got the patience or willpower to not fuck you. Teasing him is a little dangerous, because he doesn’t pick up on the flirty, shy aspect of it, he’s just ready to get going immediately. You can try being coy, but it just goes over his head.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He can’t make a lot of vocal noises, so it’s mostly loud breathing and panting. What noises he can make are mostly raspy growls, but it’s rarer to hear those. He makes a lot of noises, but they’re not really loud.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Sometimes when he’s out patrolling the woods, he’ll stop in back home and watch you through the windows, just to check up on you. It’s mostly that he knows he’d get distracted and not be able to leave if he went inside, but also a little bit of hope that he’ll catch you doing something naughty so he can barge in and join you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It really doesn’t matter what the situation is, if you’re ever in the mood then you already know he’s ready. He could probably just not stop and be fine with that, but regular people have to rest at some point.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t sleep, but he does rest, sort of. He’s still awake and aware, but it can look like he’s sleeping. A lot of times he doesn’t bother with trying, he just lays in bed and holds you until you wake up, but sometimes he likes to get under the blankets and lay down.

Fluff HC

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

There isn’t one thing, but a lot of little things that catch his eye. Your messy hair in the morning, the enthusiasm you have for those horrible movies you like, the way your hand automatically settles on his thigh when he sits next to you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

It’s probably not physically possible, but he’s sort of undecided about making a family anyways. He’s not really thought too much about it and he doesn’t really like kids too much, but he would agree to it if it’s something you wanted.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He loves to be the little spoon. It’s a bit difficult to make that happen, since he’s three times your size and you can’t really put your arms all the way around him. You just end up hanging off him like a baby monkey, but he’s happy.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

You do things together all the time, walks and hikes in the woods or marathoning cheesy movies all night. There are no set date nights or activities, you’re happy to just be around each other.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

Love. He’s a sappy guy, so he values your connection more than anything else. He’s never been lonely before, so it’s all the more strong when he feels the pull to be around you and keep you close. He’s also not very familiar with romantic feelings, so they’re much more intense going through it all for the first time.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

He’s attracted the moment he sees you, and after keeping an eye on you for a little while after, he can’t stop thinking about meeting you, touching you, being held by and holding someone else. He’s practically in love before he even really meets you, and that’s what pushes him to actually try introducing himself.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He has to be, with the size and strength that he has, but it’s something he’s got to learn first. He’s very afraid of hurting you, or making you afraid of him, but over time he’ll get more confidence in himself and realize that he doesn’t have to overthink it.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

He’s real big on physical affection, so holding hands is something he loves. Even if you’re already wrapped up and sitting in his lap, he’ll grab both your hands in one of his, just to feel that much closer.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

A little frustrated. You aren’t really in his woods, but you’re close enough that he keeps a watch on your property anyways. It’s irritating at first to have a stranger so close to him, even if you’re realistically a good distance away. He quickly changes his mind though, and keeping an eye on you soon becomes an excuse for peeking through your windows.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

That’s an understatement. He’s pretty much only ever jealous of other people, but when it happens it gets messy. Normally he doesn’t let anyone get close enough to even realize you’re there, but you have to go into town eventually and he hates it. He’s pacing around the edge of the woods the whole time you’re gone, waiting at the start of the trail that leads back home for you to come back and more than a little afraid that you won’t.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Kissing is a little complicated for him, depending on what’s under the mask. If he’s got lips, there isn’t too much hesitation in showing his face to you and the smooching can commence. Otherwise, he’ll still be ready to take the mask off, he’s actually got much better self esteem as a zombie because all of him is a little messed up now, but you’ve got to work out how to get kissing done with only one pair of lips.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He doesn’t say it, but he practically radiates it from the get go. He’s already enamoured by the time he’s actually approaching you, and although he can’t write very well at all, the big, clumsy hearts drawn on any piece of paper he gets his hands on are a pretty clear sign. He’s very eager to express his feelings any chance he gets.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

He likes leading you around the woods, showing you places he likes or interesting things. None of these things would really stand out to anyone else, but he’s been here so long that even the smallest abnormality is noticed. He’s always got something to point out no matter where you are.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

He doesn’t exactly use money, but whatever an unfortunate camper brings with them is yours for the taking if you want it. All the sleeping bags and crappy pop up tents your heart desires, any flavor of granola bar you could dream of, limitless amounts of broken compasses and torn guidebooks.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Seasonal colors, whatever matches the time of year when you met. Soft, light spring colors or wet, monochrome winter ones, he always thinks of how lucky he is to have you more often around that time.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

He will die if you call him by pet names. Nothing could make him happier than indulging in sappy, cliche romantic stereotypes and he will be delighted by whatever you call him, but the more sickeningly sweet and lovey-dovey, the better.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

The whole camp is outdated and ragged after years of being abandoned, with a lot of equipment left behind. He likes the old mess hall where the children ate lunch, particularly the cozy little kitchen in the back where his mother worked. He doesn’t have any real memories of the place that make him like it so much, he just knows it was somewhere that his mother enjoyed being.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

If he has campers to chase off, the rain isn’t going to stop him. Otherwise he’ll stay inside with you, or follow you out on a short walk in the rain, whatever you prefer to do. He’s hyper aware of how fragile you can be compared to himself, so the slightest hint of a sniffle gets you hauled back inside.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

He can’t stand for you to be sad, it puts him on edge and makes him feel like there’s some danger he should be hunting down. If something’s wrong, his first instinct is to defend you, checking over the little cabin for intruders. The safest place is by his side, so you’re on Jason Watch for the next few hours, or until he feels like you’re back to normal.

He’s actually pretty perky most days, so when he does start feeling upset it really shows. Affection, sweet and gentle, is the best way to get him feeling better, letting him lay in your lap while you stroke his skin and whisper nice things in his ear.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

He can’t make any vocal noises at all, the most he can do are breathy sounds and wet gurgles, but he learns quickly how to communicate with body language. He wants to hear about whatever you will tell him, not really understanding some of it, but happy to be included. It’s easier for him to answer direct questions than to try and say something on his own, so you have to lead any conversation.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

He likes doing your bedtime routine with you, even though he doesn’t sleep, following you around and helping you get changed and brush your hair. He’ll tuck you in, making sure you’re comfortable and ready for bed, before climbing in himself.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

He’s a protector, so any chance to show off those skills will have him feeling strangely proud of himself and eager to show you what he can do. He is constantly striving to prove himself a good partner, doing whatever he can to earn your admiration. If you praise him for something, even something small, he’ll be quick to repeat it.

W = Wedding (When, how?)

He won’t want one himself, whatever you have together is fine on it’s own, but he will be very happy to participate in any kind of ceremony you want. Explain the significance of what it involves, the traditions or customs you use, and he’ll do his best to follow along. Honestly, he’ll be sort of lovestruck just thinking that you want to do something special like that just for the two of you.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

He’s really fond of music, actually, and he’ll say it doesn’t matter what kind, but he’ll admit to a preference for soft, sweet songs if you push him. The words don’t matter so much as the feel of it, something slow and quiet, with smooth voices.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

He’s a ride or die kinda guy, if you’re past the point where he might potentially kill you, then consider yourself spoken for. He doesn’t necessarily think of marriage because that’s not a solid concept in his mind, but he knows he wants loyalty and commitment from you and is ready to give it in return.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Despite pretty much living in the middle of the woods his entire life, Jason isn’t fond of keeping pets. Wild animals are one thing, but he doesn’t want something that depends on him. He won’t stop you from getting one if you want, though, so long as he doesn’t have to do much for it.

#Slashers #Jason Voorhees #Slasher x Reader #yay everyone is done now

[rorykillmore]

okay and this ended up being more of a new years present than a christmas present, but regardless! my final gift fic for @xivuuarath !    they requested more of our “villanelle and ravage go on assassin missions together” au complete with ravage interacting with konstantin. note that i was originally going to do something crazy and fun for this but... then i got the idea to set it post-killing eve season 2 and it kind of took a more weighted and painful turn. this is an inevitability no matter what dynamic storm and i write together, so,

storm i hope you have (/had) a wonderful holiday!!! i know this year has been very difficult with caretaking and family stuff but i still think... it’s showcased an incredible amount of progress, and i’m always so happy for you and proud of you when i hear that you’re managing to write more or do more confidently in school. i know we also haven’t talked as frequently this past year, but you are still a friend who i love and value and have been through so much with, and that remains as important to me as ever <33 good luck with everything you do in 2020!!!

For better or for worse - whether it’s a weakness or a precious remnant of a more righteous cause that he ought to sink his claws into and never, ever let go of - Ravage has a habit of doing the right thing when he can afford to.

Patience might not be considered a virtue when it makes you a methodical, effective killer, but Ravage has rarely ever lacked it when it counts either way.

But these human spies the Decepticons have temporarily aligned themselves with -- they test him, sometimes. He detests most of the higher ranking members of the Twelve, frankly. They all reek of greed and wealth and apathy, and if there comes a day when Soundwave decides it might be beneficial to get rid of them, Ravage certainly does not plan on grieving.

Thankfully, the contacts he works most closely with - the assassin and her handler - are not quite so insufferable. Or at least, Villanelle is insufferable in a different way, and Konstantin... well, he’s the only human in this entire operation who Ravage can sometimes detect a whiff of decency from. Ravage occasionally halfway respects him, when he’s not seeking secret entertainment in wringing exasperation from him.

It is not like Konstantin to be late.

Ravage has waited for nearly an hour past their agreed meeting time, lurking in the shadows outside a Roman cathedral, his deflectors keeping him invisible to passing eyes. 

Something’s gone wrong. Too much time has passed. Ravage would have given up and left, except that this operation is too important. He cannot report back until he knows for certain that Aaron Peel’s weapon has fallen into the correct hands.

He is debating throwing caution to the winds and going to sniff out Konstantin himself, though, when the man finally appears.

“You took your time,” Ravage growls, flickering into visibility and making no secret of his impatience. “I hope you at least have good news for me.”

“The best,” Konstantin assures him, but his smile does not quite reach his eyes. “Aaron Peel is dead, and we have successfully confiscated his weapon before he could sell it off. Sorry it took me so long, I was -- held up.”

And despite his outwardly calm, amicable air, Ravage instantly smells something jarring and distinct. Guilt. It is an emotion ill-suited to Konstantin, and Ravage can’t imagine what might have caused it. Unless --

“Where is Villanelle?” he asks slowly, and he knows his guess is correct the moment Konstantin’s expression falters. 

“Ah. She is... gone. We have parted ways, for the time being.”

Well. It’s not dead, at least, but Ravage can also tell it’s not the whole story. But instead of calling Konstantin out, he merely stands there in silence, his optics glowing with the silent indignity of the transparent lie by omission.

And whatever actually happened must be itching under Konstantin’s skin, because it doesn’t take him long at all to crumple. “...We perhaps withheld certain details about our part of the plan.”  Sensing Ravage’s incredulity, he quickly and defensively adds, “It had nothing to do with the Decepticons. Just -- our people. Our business.” 

“Evidently, she was supposed to be my partner. You don’t think that makes it my business?”

Konstantin is quiet for a while. Then he comes out with it, plain and simple,  “Carolyn Martens wanted her dead.”

Ravage processes that silently.

“The plan was that she would kill Aaron Peel, and then one of the Twelve’s other operatives would get rid of her. I tried to provide her with an escape, of course, but she... was not happy with me.”

“Shocking,” Ravage says disdainfully, and that’s when he places the emotion churning in his spark -- shock.  There had been many an occasion, amidst his and Villanelle’s endless banter, when they had compared handlers - Ravage being elusive when it came to details of his own, of course - but while Konstantin could certainly never hold a candle to Soundwave in Ravage’s opinion, he hadn’t anticipated... this. The strained, complicated love between Konstantin and Villanelle had been something, at least, perhaps enough to blind Ravage a little to the brutal way these things often go.

These people have no loyalty to each other after all, he thinks in disgust.

“Where is she now?” he hears himself ask without even fully knowing why.

“Gone.”   Konstantin’s eyes look sad, and Ravage, of course, can tell that he means it. “I told her to get out, but she would not leave Eve Polastri, and so...”

It would be unbefitting to let Konstantin have a read on him now, so Ravage suppresses the hiss of frustration he wants to let out. Always Eve Polastri. Ravage cannot understand Villanelle’s reckless obsession, her willingness to compromise everything else, for the supposed agent of the enemy who once nearly killed her.  It is irrationality almost unparalleled to everything else he has seen in his millions of years. For that, he might have sardonically congratulated her, had the stakes been different. “They’ll get themselves killed.”

“Or one of them will kill the other,” Konstantin suggests grimly. His eyes are lost, and he still stinks of regret.  “I think... Villanelle is misreading the situation.”

That wouldn’t be anything new, but Ravage bites back the retort and stews silently until Konstantin asks,  “What will you do now, Ravage?”

Ravage resents him for asking, and resents even more that his answer is less immediate than it should be. “Stick to the plan and report back,” he says finally, prowling towards the mouth of the alley. He wants to add something more biting, maybe tell Konstantin that he will be requesting to work with someone else in the future, but that would be -- overly sentimental. So he doesn’t.

“Ravage,” Konstantin calls after him.  “I did not want it to be this way.  But orders are orders. You know this as well as anyone.”

He does, of course. And it’s an excuse he’s starting to get sick of hearing.

---

Once he has briefed Soundwave, Ravage finds himself... disconcertingly conflicted. Soundwave tells him to lay low for the time being - until the ripples caused by Peel’s death die down - which is easy enough. But it also leaves him with too much free time. Ravage would like to feel efficient. He would not like to be left alone with his thoughts. It might end with him doing something embarrassingly reckless.

Like tracking down Villanelle. Which he inevitably does.

On one hand, he rationalizes, she is a loose end, a rogue agent formerly associated with an organization allied with the Decepticons, and thus at the very least worth checking up on. But Ravage has tried never to make a habit to lie to himself, and he knows it’s not only that.

For better or for worse - whether it’s a weakness or a precious remnant of a more righteous cause that he ought to sink his claws into and never, ever let go of - Ravage has a habit of doing the right thing when he can afford to. Not that war affords him the luxury very often any more, but perhaps that only means it’s all the more important to try when he can.

And so. Here he is. 

He knocks down a vase that looks like it might be the most expensive fixture in this hotel room to announce his presence, taking momentary satisfaction in the way it hits the ground and shatters into several pieces.  And of course, it has the effect he intended:  Villanelle is up off the bed and alert within a second’s reaction time, weapon in hand, scanning the room in search of the source of the noise.

Before he reveals himself, Ravage takes a moment to observe her. She looks... tired. A little more disheveled than she usually does.  Both of these things, he notes, are oddities, and when he tries to get a read on her emotional state he finds her even more difficult than usual. It’s a difficult thing to explain, but Villanelle’s emotions do not have quite the same scent as most sentient beings’. Like she gets different flavors of sad, or angry, or elated, than everyone else does. Ravage has been around her long enough that he can sometimes puzzle her out anyway, but today he finds her irritatingly contradictory.

“I thought you’d be used to me breaking your things by now,” he growls smoothly, uncloaking.

Villanelle narrows her eyes in recognition, and after a moment, she lowers the gun.  But it takes her a while to say anything, and when she does, it’s not a sharp, cheery quip like usual.  “What do you want?”

“Your employers didn’t send me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  Ravage pauses. “Konstantin said you’d left.”

“Yup.”  Villanelle pops the ‘p’ and sits down on the edge of the bed, already making a point of looking disinterested in the conversation.  “So what? Haven’t you ever thought about leaving your people? It must get boring, after thousands of years.”

“Millions,” Ravage corrects her not for the first time, pausing.  “And no.”

He thinks of Megatron with a quiet ache in his spark.

“Why not?”

“My handler has never once conspired to leave me for dead, for one thing.”

Villanelle huffs in exaggerated disbelief.  “I guess he really was better after all.” But the joke feels almost inappropriately hollow, and Ravage doesn’t deign to comment on it. It’s a moment before Villanelle continues,  “He says he did it to protect his family. Can you believe that?  With that little gremlin daughter of his shaving years off his life.” 

Konstantin hadn’t mentioned that part. Ravage’s optics glow faintly in the dim light. He can admit to himself, easily, that he would have done the same for Soundwave and the cassettes.

And yet... he’d had the impression that Konstantin and Villanelle were whatever passed for human family.

He watches her lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, her expression blank, devoid of anger or grief. But there is something uncharacteristically somber and still about her now, nonetheless. Ravage almost finds it disconcerting.

“He also said you left with the MI-6 agent,” he continues after a moment.  “Where is she?”  Because he can’t catch Eve’s scent anywhere in the hotel room -- as far as he can discern, Villanelle is alone.

And this time, her reaction is noticeable. Her arms wrap around herself, and her nails dig pointedly into her side. Ravage doesn’t know much about human flesh, but he figures that has to be painful. Abruptly, Villanelle turns over on her stomach, facing him, her legs dangling limply behind her.  “Ravage?”

He’s going to take that as a  ‘he’s not going to get much information out of her just now’.  “What?”

“Can you tell me what love feels like?”

Ravage briefly forgets to hide his surprise.  It’s an odd, straightforward, vulnerable question, coming from her of all people.  He hesitates, considering for a long while.  “No.”  Villanelle’s eyes dim slightly, and he continues,  “It’s not something you explain. It’s just something you know, when you feel it.”

Perhaps 25 years - or whatever ridiculously young age she is; Ravage can scarcely keep track - is too short a time to feel anything as powerful and complicated as love. Perhaps humans have to spend their whole lives trying.

Villanelle shifts, another question bubbling up.  “Then can you tell me what...  regret feels like?”

Ravage is silent for another moment.   “What’s happened, Villanelle?”

Villanelle stares at him. Then she sighs and rolls over again, spread out, eternally dramatic.  “You are noooot being very helpful. Why did you even come here to find me, if you are not going to kill me, and you are not going to answer any of my questions?”

“Because I don’t think you’d understand, if I told you why I was really here.”  Ravage flicks his tail behind him once, and then settles into a careful crouch, still watching her. Debating. “...Regret is not always the all-consuming force of nature people like to make it out to be.”

To show she’s paying attention, Villanelle sits up a little.

“Sometimes it’s small, and feeble. Sometimes you don’t even realize it’s there. And sometimes you do, but you know it won’t change anything, so you push it down and away where it can’t be a bother.”  Again -- Ravage will not lie to himself, will not say he has not known regret after regret in millennia of brutality. But there’s no shame in that. Not when he hasn’t allowed himself to falter, either.   Unbidden, Megatron comes to his mind again. “...But even when you do, it doesn’t mean it can’t eat away with you. Slowly, over time. I’ve seen it hollow people out with empty spaces.”

Villanelle breathes out slowly.  “I am already all empty spaces. Maybe that’s why I can’t feel it.”

Ravage takes a long time choosing the words to respond to that.  “I think you don’t know very much about yourself.”

Villanelle doesn’t agree, and she doesn’t object.  She just keeps staring at the ceiling, and they share their silence, and that feels empty, too.  “Will you stay?” she asks after stretch of this.

“For a little while,” Ravage agrees, because he’s already made up his mind.

Villanelle doesn’t ask him why, and he doesn’t tell her, and perhaps it’s easier for both of them that way.

#christmas gifts #fic #[me writing ravage pov after 40 years] haha hope this doesn't suck.