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eemoo1o · 1 year

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Shadow has never been stated to be 18 or 20 though, he has only ever been stated to be physically 15 /nm

(Long post ahead. Tags are also important in advance. I will admit this post spirals into a tangent on how this matter started as well as stuff about other characters, and despite all linking together under the same theme-gazebo, it kinda derails, so feel free to read at your own pace.)

I don’t know much about the games—and that may make you feel “oh then why are you..” yeah, I mean like I don’t check manuals or have played them but I watch analysis videos, avidly Google shit and revisit the wikis now and then.

Just putting that out there.

The Sonic News Network wiki page merely renders him as ageless, whereas the Sega Wiki wiki page (where I got my information from last post) stated three (kinda) ages for the character:

(Please note that the Wiki is themed in a darker grey to what the image is here. Same with the following. I turned the exposure up on each for visual clarity.)

Oh, look, they even included a canon birthdate!

Oh…

Well, I know Wikis aren’t always accurate, so to back up the apparent evidence I had, if I’m just to Google his age just to double check—

Hey! That’s the game, damnit.

Think this was my mistake in the previous reply, so I suppose I should apologise. And I do. I think my train of thought was: “He’s 18 years of age (y), with some range in other games (17-22y respectively)”, which isn’t right—but every source I could find on the character’s age came up with 18y and not 15y, so I stand by the claim that even though he’s “ageless” (immortal, basically) he’s physically 18.

It also doesn’t make much sense that he is “ageless”—perhaps due to his origins of being put into stasis like some sort of autobot, or something—when a physical age for him has been stated to be 18 (which makes sense, as Knuckles was, by technicality, the original Shadow, having been invented seven years before Shadow was, and as far as I remember is meant to be a year or two older (16 or 17) than Sonic (15)—it also makes sense because Rouge is also 18, apparently, and I’d have imagined them to be of very similar age). Technically that should just let him do an Edward Cullen and be 18 forever.

(I will note that I’ve never liked the prospect of Shadow being immortal. Or the duration it took for him to come out of stasis just to link to Dr. Robotnik somehow. Perhaps I’m just biased, but to me it feels heavily unjust—I wanted Shadow and Sonic carrying their rivalry all the way to the old folks’ home, damnit. And now that vision is ruined.)

Overall, being immortal really doesn’t suit Shadow’s character, in my opinion, and just feels like a plot point now simply discarded and forgotten. It really wasn’t necessary in the first place, and making him 18 (immortal or otherwise) would have been much easier, rather than the oh-so-enigmatic “ageless” genotype we all know and love today.

To remedy this, I like to think red-eyed Shadow is different to brown-eyed Shadow in the sense of age and therefore backstory. I made a post on it—in fact I think it’s probably the post right before this one on my blog—but currently my main focus is going to be on Prime, which is why I’m now so bitter about Shadow’s age, and Sonic character ages as a whole.

None of it really fits, and I think they all need to be updated (Sonic and Amy’s, especially). I mean, I know Amy’s was back in the day, but with how she’s depicted now as opposed to back then, even post-redesign (she went from an 8yo Sonic recolour to a 12yo what-we-know-now). I mean, I know her main, more “well regarded” character arc is learning how to mature, but with her literally being fucking 12 is just a pisstake.

Sonic’s age is less annoying as opposed to Shadow and Amy’s (respectively) because I don’t think too much into it until I notice it doesn’t suit him due to the situations he’s in. Yes, he’s young and he’s a teenager—a cocky one at that, which is one of the many good things Hardcore Sonic Fans (aka the “bronies” of this fandom, for lack of a more adequate word) praise Prime for depicting—so it’d make sense for him to be such (15yo), but to me it’s make much more sense for him to be like 16.

I’d be willing to say “maybe even 17”, but 16 just seems so perfect and on the nose. It’s such a nitpicky little detail but to me Sonic’s age wouldn’t seem so absurd if they just made him 16. It’d both make an immense difference and yet basically none at all that would force any impact on his characterisation.

Amy’s the most absurd—her age still hasn’t been updated from 12 and even though it’s an improvement from her being 8, it’s still ridiculous. If you’re (and by that, I mean the creators, not you, the anon) not going to change Sonic’s age, at least change hers. To me, she seems like she should be a year younger than Sonic at least.

Same could be said for Tails. To me he feels similar to Amy, or at least in the terms of arcs. He should be younger than Sonic, and either the same or younger than Amy, too. He’s still eight, and with how his character has evolved over the years, especially in the modern era, he needs to be just a mite older, like 12 or something.

I feel like Shadow’s age, I most have a problem with for literally being 50 (I don’t care if he’s “physically” 18 or whatever. He’s not Edward Cullen, although that too is also pretty creepy) and as for the coma thing, put it like this: if Timmy fell down the well at 8 years of age and woke up from his head-trauma-induced coma 50 years later, he isn’t automatically excused from picking fights or relationships with kids.

I added the “relationships” into it because this (the thing with the coma) seems to be the primary excuse for Sonadow shippers (I suppose with Rougeow it isn’t so bad because she’s canonically 18, probably to make her past sex appeal to humans somewhat legal, but still). I mean, I’ve seen the same being said for other ships, but not really. The primary ship seems to be for Sonadow, seeing as Amy’s age is always disregarded anyway, especially in the Sonamy side of the fandom.

Shadow was my favourite part in Prime, I’ll admit—I liked his banter with Sonic, and I liked his voice actor (oh, Ian Hanlin, how I love your vocal range so)—which is why my anger for Shadow’s age and backstory made a resurgence (it was either mid-last year or the one just before, where I went through a Sonic phase on my blog after revisiting Boom, and somewhere during that I’d said the same thing, although not to this much feedback from an anon/anons).

I also made the post about Shadow’s eyes because if noticed they were brown in Prime but didn’t really pick up on what exactly was off until I’d googled it. One could argue they’re red for TV as opposed to the games, but in Sonic X they’re red, like in the games, and in Sonic Boom they’re a more saturated colour, making them mostly dark red, borderline brown.

So, I assume as the modern era of Sonic-based media progresses/progressed, they’ve turned from brown to red. It’s subtle but I hope it says a lot. Mostly for his backstory, because god, do I hate Shadow’s backstory.

#i assume you’re the same anon as this morning? /gen q #asks #anon asks #anonymous #answering an ask #sth ages #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #ages in sonic are fucked #this is a very /nm and /lh post/reply posed in an opposite manner I do realise so apologies if it comes off as seriously defensive #it isn’t I just like theatrical flares in my posts sometimes /gen #tangent #lol maybe I should make a sonic side just to organise this stuff #/gen thoughts on the matter #sonic prime #sonic boom #sonic x #amy rose #knuckles the echidna

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thenotificationmachine · 1 year

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Theory addendum: why Stolitz will not in fact be Stockholm syndrome.

Hi, guys, So I made a theory response yesterday (you can check it out here: https://www.tumblr.com/thenotificationmachine/708793464871092225/theory-response-why-stolitz-might-actually-be?source=share) to @stolitzy's defence of Stolitz not being Stockholm syndrome and... I think my response was TOO effective. Not only did I defend my view, I also shattered her faith in Stolitz to the point that she had a personal crisis. So yeah, NOT a good move in hindsight. After some reflection and a talk with her, I've decided to amend my theory and say that Stolitz won't be Stockholm syndrome. "But how?" I hear you ask, " as you pointed out, all the signs are there! And stolitzy had no defence for that!" You (and my theory) are right about Stolitz having all (or at least most of) the hallmarks of Stockholm syndrome, but as stolitzy pointed out in her initial post, there actually is a good argument for why it isn't Stockholm syndrome. Don't misunderstand me, all the signs are there and if normal logic was applied it probably WOULD develop into that, but it isn't that because Viv, the Spindlehorse team and the vast majority of Helluva's fanbase will NEVER ALLOW IT to be that. They all want Stolitz to be this 100% perfect ship with no blemishes given time, and so the current miscommunication is likely the most trouble the ship will ever be in given how quickly the writers jumped from the emotional turmoil in "the Circus" to the overly saccharine stuff in "Seeing Stars".

Call it bad storywriting or an act of mercy for the ship depending on your preferences, but whatever the case may be, Stolitz might end up going down as the Stockholm syndrome ship that never was.

...Or not, since I have to confess that I've overanalysed the hallucination scene from "Truth Seekers" before, more specifically the appearances of the antagonists...

Take Mr. Shitty Clown over here, for example. Given how he's styled like an old rubber hose cartoon and Blitz's reactions to him and Robo-Mr. Shitty Clown, I theorised that he's like this because Blitz just sees him as a bouncy irritant/pest who lives to entertain others, when in fact he's seemingly like this just because Viv and co. liked the idea of that style. As such, my analysis of Striker's grainy/greyscaled appearance being due to Blitz's perception of him being darkened by his assassination attempt on Stolas was also wrong. But the BIGGEST (and most painful to admit) mistake was my analysis of Verosika's appearance in the scene.

You see, I looked at how she had the most "realistic" appearance (in terms of the show's usual animation style), visible tear streaks, the fact that she got the closest to Blitz out of all of them and the fact that Blitz's eyes are filled with a blue line that looks suspiciously like they're filling up with tears and came to the logical conclusion that Verosika was the closest to Blitz romantically and that in this moment he understood how much he hurt her and was genuinely remorseful. When all this analysis was added to hallucination Stolas holding him on a chain and him blushing on it and I immediately jumped to the Stockholm syndrome conclusion. This all seems like a perfectly logical conclusion, simply thwarted by the fact that Viv and co. hadn't looked at the scene as deeply as my theorising self, until you take one more very important factor into account; my MASSIVE bias towards Verosika. Yeeeaaahhh... So I have to admit that both this analysis and the entire "Stolitz is Stockholm syndrome" theory was likely unconsciously influenced by me being a Verosika stan and thus believing that her genuine loving relationship with Blitz (which the latter, not her, sabotaged) deserves a second shot once he goes through some character growth and that Stolitz is unfair robbery. As such I was always going to be biased against the ship and also missed the obvious sunlight behind hallucination Stolas, which stolitzy pointed out symbolises how Blitz views him as his hope. Then again, this could ALSO be proof of the Stockholm syndrome theory being correct regardless of my bias; guess it's up to you to decide. But regardless of whether my overanalysis, Verosika bias and preference for Blitzika over Stolitz disprove the Stockholm syndrome theory or not, the latter ship will still never be Stockholm syndrome since, like with the Orks in Warhammer 40k being able to breathe in space until they're told they need spacesuits to do so, the collective Stolitz fanbase (including the Spindlehorse team and Viv herself)'s collective power of belief will make sure it never turns into such a thing and instead miraculously develops into a stable, healthy relationship.

#helluva boss #vivziepop #rebuttal of a theory rebuttal #stolitz won't be Stockholm syndrome even though it probably should be by all normal logic #I get too enthusiastic when theorising #I'm a Verosika stan and I admit it #whether this theory holds water or not is up to you guys #I'm probably biased though #sorry stolitzy #Waaagh! Stolitz

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ringo-ichigo · 4 months

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On Giving Sources

Since we’ve recently had some lowkey discussion going on about sourcing our gleaned knowledge (or at least I have seen it arise), I want to debunk some ideas I see popping up.

One of the main ones I’ve seen is the idea that providing sources is too “academic” feeling. As someone who is currently in college and thus you would think researched out, I want to remind all of us why sources are used in academia. All of us are capable of just… saying anything we want. And this can be both wrong on purpose or by accident. I could tell you that I have six missing teeth and you have no way to prove me right or wrong without corroboration from my dentist or someone like a parent. Even if you counted my teeth, you couldn’t actually prove it is six teeth. Plus, the wording is key. “Missing.” What do I mean by that? Do I mean I never got them? That they were extracted? Now, if I were to link my dental charts to you, then you could look at them and go “Oh. She had six teeth extracted so she has six fewer teeth than she should.” But alternatively, I could say my mom is missing five teeth right after this and you might assume from that same wording that she also had five teeth extracted. But that’s not correct. My mom was born without one adult tooth. So literally, she just is missing a tooth and had four extractions. But again, you couldn’t confirm that without the dental records. But without the dental records, you would just have to trust that I’m an honest person on the internet and you don’t know that. You have no proof that I am honest beyond my word and shocker, dishonest people will say they are so that’s not reliable either. Similarly, you can think of this in term of mathematics. How many of you tried to just write an answer for some problems in higher math and got a nice note from your teacher of “Where’s your work?” or something similar. Giving your sources is essentially showing that you are honest and also saying “Here’s my work.” Academia prioritizes sharing sources for accuracy checking. Which by checking the accuracy, has the fun side effect of proving one’s honesty.

But beyond the fact that sources show your research, we need to also admit that not all sources are equal. I can love some of the posts on Persephone that float around… but I’ve seen as many with biased or just… bad sources listed as I’ve seen with good ones. And no, good and bad are not the same as “I agree” or “I don’t agree” with the source. A good source should be rooted in more than just conjecture. For instance, its evidence can be found in archaeology. A good source should have correct dates, good context, and good reasoning. Again: anyone can say anything. Which means they can lie. A bad source can be outdated, have incorrect information, take something out of context, or just make wild reaches. And yes, I’ve seen bad sources used before. Or just… incorrect quotes of good sources so… yeah. Listing them allows for clarity, for honesty and just… double checking.

In addition: sources can be biased. We can have bias, yes. But your sources aren’t excluded from that same issue. And let me clear: that bias can be in favor or against. Both can be a problem. But if you don’t give us your source, no one can double check it for bias that you may have missed. And again, this also relates back to the honesty thing. If you don’t tell us where you derived your ideas from, we can’t trust that you aren’t passing on bias to us. To take an example here of translation bias: Sappho. We can argue to the cows come home on her sexuality but frankly, it’s a mess because we can’t ask her personally and that really is the only way to know for sure what a person’s sexuality is. So we’re left trying to parse out translations of centuries old Greek and hope we can glean enough to guess. Up until the 1900s, those translations (after Christianity mainly but sometimes before) actively changed words or purposely chose male versions of them whenever they could (and sometimes even when they couldn’t). They did that out of a bias against homosexuality. While we have done a lot of work to undo that, we still fall victim to similar attitudes now. Now, sometimes gender neutral words are translated as male, female, or neutral depending on the translator’s bias. Are they pro-LGBT? Translated as female most likely, maybe neutral (my personal fave way since we can’t really ask the author her intent and leaves it open to the reader to interpret. I love some ambiguity in poetry). Are they homophobic? Then male translations still abound. So bias abounds, but as most people don’t know ancient Greek, it makes it so many will just take their particular translation’s version as right. But if someone were to post a quote of these translations, we may not be able to catch that translator’s bias if they don’t tell us where they got it from. Because we can’t then look at the translator and make that judgment call or in some cases just research them and go “Ooh yikes.”

Also, I do have to say in relation to this: I have seen bad art history frequently thrown around as “proof.” Y’all, if I need to sit you all down and give a lecture on why iconography in art is hard, I will. If I need to sit you all down and explain how limited color palettes work in art, I will. But stop ignoring these things just because they disprove your theory. For one example of bad art history I’ve seen recently: Aphroditus and Hermaphroditus have IDENTICAL ICONOGRAPHY DURING THE SAME PERIODS. So unless you have a nice written component on the statue stating the name of the god, technically, you are taking a 50/50 stab unless you’ve got some dates, regions, and more archaeological evidence than just what your eyeballs see. And even then, you’re still guessing. Both use the same poses, the same body type, the same freaking everything, in the same time frames and even the same regions AND THAT IS WHY YOU SEE PEOPLE MIXING THE TWO UP. STOP IT. YOU ARE ALL BEING STUPID BECAUSE ART HISTORY IS EXTREMELY NUANCED WHEN IT COMES TO ANCIENT HISTORY. MOST OF THESE GODS ARE IDENTIFIED BY ICONOGRAPHY NOT BY A NICE NAME PLATE ON THE STATUE.

But most importantly, I will always ask for sources because… I just want to read it. I love learning and reading. Always have. And so do many others. Many of us want to learn. So it benefits none of us if you hoard your sources like some dragon. Share so that we can all share in the knowledge. As my mom used to say as she rolled her eyes over my brother and I fighting over who got to read a book first: “The words will still be there after the other one reads it. They’re not going anywhere so there’s no need to fight over who gets to read it first.” Guys, you are all acting like if you share your source, one of the things that will happen is that is vanishes into the aether, never to be read again. No. Your copy of it will still be there when you go to read it again. Sharing it will not make it magically unreadable. Also, if you’re hoarding it to be “a resource” for others… let’s be real. That’s an entirely selfish reason that roots in your desire to be admired. You can be a resource and still share your knowledge. Hell, that’s the point of being a resource. You share knowledge, not hoard it. You’re playing gatekeeper, not being a resource if you hoard it.

Some of the other reasons I’ve seen for not giving sources is the lack of modern sensitivity to some. I know that sometimes, sources aren’t worded as carefully or respectfully as we’d like. I get it. Believe me, reading Freud a few semesters ago made me livid. My textbook in this section has nice little messy notes in the margins of me going “Sir, no.” No source will ever be perfect because humans are not perfect. So that’s not a good excuse. I don’t like reading books on abuse because I was abused. I frequently take breaks, put it down, and just… breathe. I may even need to take a day long break or sometimes even longer. But that said, I do still have to read them sometimes. And that can mean just… going into it knowing it will be hard and triggering and take time, but doing it anyway while taking steps to mitigate the negative issues. I won’t say it’s easy or fun. It’s not. It’s absolutely awful. I don’t enjoy having two weeks of nightmares (one of the main things I get with a trigger). But it’s something I accept as part of my life. The best I can do is prepare for when I have to deal with it and mitigate the fallout. Avoiding the issue isn’t the only way to cope with issues. In fact, avoidance can become a maladaptive coping mechanism. On top of that, it’s not anyone else’s job to prevent my issues from controlling me. That’s my job. The better way to deal with a source being possibly triggering is to warn someone. List what issues you noticed and go “Hey, heads up, this exists so be aware when you choose to read this.” (Quick note: you can do this as well if you notice bias as well.) Paired with this: if you choose to read a source knowing it has issues that may trigger you, it is not anyone else’s fault if you do get triggered. You took on the risk and this is a consequence of it. It’s not anyone else’s fault that you were not able to handle it. I didn’t run to documentary makers on abuse and go “You triggered me with the scene of the kid on the stairs watching the abuse.” It is not their fault that I literally was the kid on the stairs in my past. It is not their fault that I regressed to that moment in my memory. I saw the warning, and I chose to proceed anyways only to find out that I was not as prepared as I thought. And that is a result of my decision, no one else’s.

Let me be frank: giving your sources is not a way to lord over others. We need to normalize this. Normalize telling people where you found the evidence. Normalize warning people about issues in a potential source. And normalize giving your sources to promote community wide knowledge rather than being a dragon with a hoard of books that only you can read. All of these things are good things, not bad ones. Nor are they “too academic” for you to do. They’re basics for the internet when you’re dealing with niche topics since the internet is a place where anyone can and will lie if they think it gets them something.

Another issues I’ve seen bounced around against giving sources is how it’s too rooted in academia and thus brings the issues that come with academia. For instance, that academia is very difficult to access for sourcing. And you know what? Yes. Yes it is. I will not deny that. Which is part of why I’m doing what research I can while I have access, and I’m partly doing that by downloading what articles are allowed. Why? So that not only do I have a copy to peruse at my leisure, but so if someone else really is interested in one of those articles and struggling to find it, I can go “Oh, hey, I have a copy.” Or for some of the ones I tracked down through alternate sites and not my school library, I can share that. One of the ways you can break down some of the issues with academia being so cloistered is to share the articles, alternate access methods, and just citing the place where you gathered the knowledge. Especially as these sources can also be expensive to get access to. Sharing is a way to help get around the monetary hurdle to good information.

It's been almost a year since I originally wrote this post and then never posted it, but just to add on a bit more current events that I do hope will help you all understand why this is so important. Let’s talk about hbomberguy’s video on plagiarism, Todd in the Shadow’s debunking video, and James Somerton. This situation encapsulates why citing and sharing your sources is so vital, no matter what subject you are speaking on. James Somerton plagiarized a lot, and he covered it by lackluster or just completely missing citations. He is not some exception or one-off case. There are many in the world who do this. You will not know unless you run their work through a plagiarism checker or otherwise figure out that it was plagiarized by familiarity or chance. Todd’s video meanwhile exposed how when Somerton wasn’t stealing someone’s words, he was just… making “facts” up by pulling shit out of his ass, if you will allow me to be crude for a moment. He had no factual, historical, or any other proof beyond “I said it.” Some of this was so blatantly false that it’s genuinely disturbing that people just… believed it. You all need to learn to be critical and keep your brains engaged while researching. You should not blindly trust every source. This comes back to the idea of bias and honesty. If you do not do your due diligence to check for potential bias, blatant lies, or provable facts, you will be mislead and miseducated by someone who just sounds right or can construct a half-baked argument. If someone isn’t giving their sources, you should be wary. You should be aware that no source leaves so many options open. Did they plagiarize this? Did they make this up? Is there any proof of this? Is this their opinion and not fact? If we take anything else from James Somerton’s exposure, let it be to be more critical and engaged when consuming content. To confront the ideas presented and interrogate them with logic. If you have gotten into the deeper research, you know how to do this. If you have made it through college, you should have at least learned how to cite a source. You should have realistically learned to engage with information with critical thinking and logic. If more than a handful people had done this with James’s material before hbomberguy, he likely never would have gotten away his crimes for years. Yes, he did the wrong first, but we, as a community, failed to do our due diligence and stop his acts earlier. Those who engaged with his content all failed in some part by not just… thinking. Do not take anyone at their word online. The internet allows people to present their best front and that leaves the door open for manipulative people to indulge in their worst tendencies.

And now… for Hellenic polytheists… let’s get into the Delphic Maxims. “Know what you have learned.” “Long for wisdom.” “Help your friends.” “Listen to everyone.” “Give what you have.” “Be a seeker of wisdom.” “Consult the wise.” “Use your skill.” DO I NEED TO GO ON? These are just some of them that deal with knowledge and sharing. These are some of the virtues that, depending on the origin you like, were extolled by the Greeks or even given by Apollon. Maybe, just maybe, you should try to follow them. But what do I know? I’m just enjoying my time with access to higher academic sources to gather as many as I can while I can so that maybe I can pass on the knowledge from them while making a list of them. To give what I have to the community. But if you want to be greedy and selfish, go off I guess and hoard that damn source lest the words disappear off the page. I’m sure the gods will be so happy with this.

But let’s be real about the kind of citations most of us want when it comes to content you post online outside of academia. It’s not too “academic” or difficult to fucking list them. Most of us don’t even want like a full correctly formatted list. We just want “Oh hey, I got these from these books/articles” and maybe a link. We’re not asking for correct CMS or APA formatting for your fucking citations. We just want the name of the book or article and the author. Gods, how dare we. So needy to ask for the bare minimum about the source. How horrific of us. We aren’t even making you cite each particular idea to a particular source. We aren’t even expecting an exact page number! Also, if I’m going to be real: there are literal citation generators and since you’re not being graded on how correct every little ticky tack part of your citation is, you can go hogwild with them. Heck, some will even pull all the relevant stuff up for you if you link a source into the generator. You could literally be the laziest citation maker ever here if you did want to be a little more classy or specific than a list. Let’s be real: if you aren’t listing because you can’t be bothered, you’re lazy. Or worse, you’re not listing because you don’t want anyone to catch you in your lies. And the latter is not all right. If you want to lie, the only nice thing I can say is that lies have short legs. It’ll come out eventually, and your clout will not save you then. James Somerton can attest to that.

In case you can’t tell, frankly, if you’re not willing to share your sources, I personally am getting real sick of the excuses you give. Because that means at best, you’re selfish and want to be the only one with the key to the knowledge. Or maybe just extremely lazy. At worst, you’re likely lying and hoping no one will find out by claiming “Oh I found it somewhere.” None of these is a good look. Just… show a fucking iota of thought for others. Give trigger warnings specific to some sources if you feel it necessary. List them so we all can share in the knowledge. And live your life. It’s not that fucking difficult.

I say this as someone who runs a podcast where I go in depth on Ancient Greek religion. I provide citations in my shownotes. I verbally reference my sources. I point out where I listed them and encourage people to read those sources. I want the communities I’m in to thrive and so I share my sources with citations. I do this so anyone can check my information. You all can see where I got these ideas and how credible they are. I don’t do this because it’s easy or fun to figure out the best way to do it. It’s hard to cite a source when you’re doing a speech without a visual component. But I do it anyway because to be blunt, I consider it my duty as a presenter of knowledge. I do it because it is the right, ethical, and honest thing to do. And I sincerely hope that if this essay gains some traction, everyone will do the same. Be forthright. Be honest. Be better going forward.

#hellenic polytheism #on giving sources #citations are important #history #delphic maxims #do better tumblr #do better as a whole #no i will not put it behind a read more #deal with the wall of text

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christinaroseandrews · 3 years

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Queens of the Crusades follows the lives of five of England's Queens: Eleanor of Aquitaine (Henry II), Berengaria of Navarre (Richard I), Isabella of Angoulême (John I), Eleanor (Alienor) of Provence (Richard III), and Eleanor of Castile (Edward I) -- Yes lots of Eleanors. The book uses primary sources and other research (mostly Mathew Paris) to tell the story of these five queens.

The majority of the book focuses on two of them: the formidable Eleanor of Aquitaine and the ambiguous Eleanor of Castile. In fact, the first third of the book is devoted to Eleanor of Aquitaine which can be good or bad depending on your tastes. I personally would have liked a bit more time spent on the other queens... particularly Isabella, but that is me.

The book is told in Weir's incredibly readable style. And it's easy for the armchair historian to pick up and follow along with. While there's a lot of very interesting information in this book, readers need to be aware that there is some unstated bias in the prose and some theories/facts which are in dispute. It's a good start for people looking for more information about these queens who have exhausted Wikipedia but it's really only a start.

There were also some odd tangents at times that didn't seem to fit with the rest of the narrative and felt shoehorned in because they were interesting tidbits but didn't relate fully to the information at hand.

In all, I am torn about what to rate this book. It's readable. It's approachable. But there's a lack of context provided to some of the sources and Weir's bias is present but it's not stated or acknowledged. There's also the potential for confusion regarding the names in this book. Maud is used instead of Mathilda for Henry II's mother. Alienor is used for Eleanor of Provence. At several points, I had to pause to check to make sure that the name in question was a viable one and that lessened my reading enjoyment. I'm not a fan of fact-checking my non-fiction, and I needed to fact check much of this book. Additionally, I also felt that the book was uneven. The section on Eleanor of Aquitaine was far and away the best and most in depth. However the section on Berengaria of Navarre felt lacking.

If you're a fan of Weir's work, you're going to enjoy this. If you aren't, I'd give it a miss. If you're new to the subject, then this is a good starting point and something light and easy to read.

In all, I liked and disliked parts of this book. And for that I give this:

Three Stars

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breckstonevailskier · 3 years

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Rewriting Cobra Kai Season 2 to eliminate the love triangles

There's a lot to love about Cobra Kai. But I have to admit season 2 is a bit of a weak season. And one of the areas that I view as a weak point is with the teen romance and love triangles.

Love triangles are one of the cheapest sources of conflict, given that you're either pitting two girls against each other in a competition for a guy's love, or two guys against each other for a girl's love. We see both of those in season 2 with Robby/Sam/Miguel and Sam/Miguel/Tory.

Obviously, the pairings for the season of Sam/Robby and Miguel/Tory were rebounds because it's typical in a show like this to break up an endgame couple early, then have them get back together later. Thing is, the rivalries of Sam and Tory, and Miguel and Robby, already have a lot of meat for them that doesn't hinge on the relationships.

With Sam and Tory, it's kinda ridiculous that the whole rivalry is basically over Miguel's heart when it could've been about so much more. It could've been built more upon the wrong perceptions that they had of each other from their first encounter at the beach club in 2x04: Sam viewing Tory as a thief, and Tory viewing Sam as a privileged rival who's never had to deal with hardship.

With Robby and Miguel, the show focuses a lot on how Miguel views Robby as a rival in their affections for Sam, but not really about another source to their rivalry: Johnny. It would've been interesting if the rivalry was built around Robby's resentment towards Miguel for getting Johnny's attention and affection, and in turn for Miguel to feel conflicted about his anger towards Robby because he's aware about Robby being Johnny's son.

There's also the fact that I don't think Sam/Robby and Miguel/Tory really have chemistry compared to Sam/Miguel and Robby/Tory. Sam and Robby have more sibling vibes than romantic ones. In the case of Miguel and Tory, Tory pursued Miguel and he went along with it because she was offering herself as a rebound girl, and the whole thing felt like a temporary relationship to tide him over before he got back together with Sam (and he was a pretty bad boyfriend to her in turn).

So my solution to the mess is to, well...to fix the problem, you have to go back into season 1 and not have Sam break up with Miguel at the tournament. Keep Sam and Miguel in a relationship for the duration of season 2, while having Tory get together with Robby in season 2. Here's how that would go.

SEASON 1

Episode 9:

In this episode, Sam returned home, planning to come clean to her dad about Miguel (and prepared to take the risk of him not approving of the relationship because Miguel is in Cobra Kai), only for her mom to confront her about the hit and run and ground her. Because her phone was confiscated, she can't reach out to Miguel, who is becoming paranoid in light of Johnny's biased stories to him about Daniel and seeing Sam being friendly with Robby. He gets drunk, and tries to take a swing at Robby when he brings Sam over so she can explain the situation, accidentally hitting Sam. Subsequently, they break up after he refuses to apologize for resorting to violence on Robby, and she leaves the tournament early, unable to bear what Miguel's turned into under the Cobra Kai teachings, while Miguel fights dirty against Robby in the finals and wins.

The change:

Sam returns home, planning to come clean to her dad about Miguel. Her mom confronts her about the hit-and-run...but she isn't quick to ground Sam. First, Amanda asks Sam for her side of the story about the hit-and-run. This, I think, is a very necessary change because, in the canon episode, Amanda's a bit of a hypocrite here. She's rushing to judgment based solely on Johnny's word without hearing Sam's side of the events or considering the possibility that Johnny's being biased, something that she had chided Daniel for doing earlier (regarding Johnny bringing to his attention what Kyler and his gang had been doing to Miguel).

So Sam explains what happened: Yasmine was texting while driving and they collided with a car that was parked illegally in the street outside the All-Valley Sports Arena. They were prepared to get out and leave contact information when a drunk Johnny began banging on the backseat window, making them drive off out of fear for their safety.

While Sam has told her side of things, she's still grounded for not coming clean sooner. But before Amanda can confiscate Sam's phone, Sam brings up that she has plans to see Miguel that night and he'll be worried sick if he can't contact her. She comes clean to her mom about how, "You know about that viral video of the kid who beat up Kyler and his crew in the cafeteria a few months back? Well, I've been dating that kid for the last few months." And she explains everything: his name is Miguel Diaz, and he's a student at Cobra Kai, and she was planning on telling Daniel about all this.

Of course, Amanda is aware Daniel will probably not take the news that their daughter is dating a Cobra Kai well, given Daniel's personal beef with Cobra Kai (what with getting Armand Zakarian to jack up the rent on the strip mall, and Louie hiring his biker buddies to destroy Johnny's car as retaliation for the billboard penis), and how he's not above intruding on his daughter's social life (given what happened with Kyler). But Sam insists Miguel's a good person, and that if Amanda gets to know Miguel through and through, then she can help Sam stand up to Daniel when Daniel inevitably blows up. More importantly, her best friend Aisha's in Cobra Kai, and can also vouch for Miguel's character. Amanda agrees to Sam's idea, and lets her call Miguel to invite him over.

So Miguel abandons the Cobra Kais' party and comes over to the LaRussos' house. He's already feeling jealous and insecure, because he knows Sam is hiding their relationship from Daniel, and the previous day, he went to her house uninvited and saw her laughing and talking to Robby. This was right after he'd heard Johnny's biased story about Daniel "stealing" Ali from him. So when Amanda lets Miguel in, he's a bit on edge, but Amanda mistakes it as him just being nervous at him coming over to his girlfriend's fancy house. Nonetheless, she's quickly won over by Miguel's personality, and when she asks him about "Why did you take up karate?" determines that he's the real deal, especially when he mentions how he took up karate to defend himself from bullies (much like Daniel did).

But things change when Robby arrives at the house for a training session with Daniel. Robby and Miguel recognize each other, and immediately Miguel's insecurities come to his head. He tries to attack Robby, but Sam steps between them, calms Miguel down, and explains that whatever Miguel saw, it's not what it looks like. Robby's just a friend and a teen working for the LaRussos' dealership who is also being trained by Daniel in the art of Miyagi-Do. Miguel listens to her, accepts what she's saying, and relaxes, no longer seeing Robby as a threat to his affections for Sam. However, Sam also notices the disdainful look Robby showed the moment he saw Miguel, but can't figure out why as she nor her parents are aware that Robby is Johnny's son.

When Johnny and Daniel return home from their day out, they agree to a "Rocky III-style" match in Daniel's dojo, but find Robby there waiting, and also find Sam with Miguel and Amanda. Things get heated, the altercation where Daniel's trophy gets broken happens, and ultimately everyone blows up at each other:

Daniel is mad over the fact that his daughter is dating a Cobra Kai boy and about the whole fact that Robby is Johnny's son.

Johnny's mad at Daniel because Daniel is training his son. He is also offended by the fact that Daniel is mad about Miguel being in Cobra Kai, causing him to get defensive of Miguel.

In Johnny's rush to defend Miguel, he only succeeds in angering Robby, who's now mad at him for showing his favoritism for Miguel. Robby is also mad at Miguel for the fact that Sam is already taken.

Miguel is mad at Daniel for not approving of him, and mad at Johnny for escalating the situation.

Sam is mad at her dad for not reacting well to Miguel, and mad at Miguel and Robby for letting there be bad blood between them.

Amanda is mad at Johnny for terrorizing Sam, and also mad at Daniel for flipping out at Miguel.

So the whole thing ends with Johnny driving away angrily with Miguel, Daniel banishing Robby from the house and the dealership, Sam storming off to her bedroom in tears, and Daniel also being banished to the couch by Amanda.

Episode 10:

At the LaRusso house, everyone broods over the events of the previous night. Amanda puts Daniel in his place and calls him out on his behavior towards Robby and Miguel, with her saying "You really want Sam to shut you out again?" He apologizes to Sam and Amanda for losing it, and reluctantly agrees to sit down and get to know Miguel after the tournament.

Everything at the tournament is the same up until the conversation Sam has with Miguel right before the finals. She apologizes for her dad's behavior, and tells him that her dad wants to get to know him. Miguel accepts her apology, thanks her, and agrees that they'll talk after the tournament.

Subsequently, Sam stays for the finals rather than go home early. Miguel doesn't threaten to hurt Robby, and wanting to make the best impression for Daniel, he chooses to fight cleanly rather than exploit Robby's injury, an act that baffles Miguel's fellow Cobra Kai students. Even though the match ties at 2-2, Robby's injury puts him at too much of a disadvantage, and Miguel earns the winning point not by attacking Robby's shoulder, but by using the Crane Kick (to which he subsequently gives Daniel a bow of respect).

Subsequently, Sam is among those who run over to him, gives him an approving hug, and then goes over to check on Robby and Johnny. Meanwhile, Sam goes with Miguel to the victory celebration at Applebee's. And afterwards, he goes with her to her house for a sparring session of their own.

On the drive home, Robby is sullen about his second place finish, but Daniel assures him that he is as much of a winner as Miguel. Robby expresses concern that Cobra Kai is going to become the premier dojo in the Valley, but Daniel--bitter over Johnny's behavior towards his daughter, and Hawk's behavior in the semi-finals--replies, "Over my dead body", taking Robby to Mr. Miyagi's old house which he plans to convert into a full on dojo for Miyagi-Do.

The next day, Miguel comes over to the LaRussos' for dinner. He is hesitant, since besides what he's seen of Daniel, the only other things he knows about Daniel are from the biased narrative that Johnny gave him about what happened in 1984, and the way Daniel flipped out at seeing him. Daniel apologizes for his behavior the other day, but explains that the name Cobra Kai just brings up lots of bad memories with him. So we get the car scene from season 3 episode 9 where Daniel fills in the gaps about what Johnny didn't tell Miguel, and to further clarify why he doesn't trust Cobra Kai and Johnny, also brings up what happened when he was manipulated by Terry Silver and Mike Barnes. At the end of it, Daniel decides that he's okay with Miguel dating Sam, but this hasn't done anything to cool the blood between him and Johnny because of Hawk injuring Robby and Johnny's own actions with the hit-and-run.

SEASON 2:

Episodes 1 and 2:

So for season 2, Miguel's arc is about him being torn between Cobra Kai and his loyalty to Johnny, and his relationship with Sam and the new respect Daniel has for him. Sam and Miguel are still dating. Robby still doesn't like that Sam is with Miguel, and still dislikes Miguel because of Johnny's favoritism for him, but decides to stay friends with Sam after she convinces Daniel to take Robby in. Robby also tries to be civil to Miguel for Daniel's and Sam's sake. But with Miguel spending so much time with Sam and being practically a fixture at the LaRusso house, it's hard for Robby not to grow envious of him given all that other baggage.

Episode 3:

The season is mostly the same, up until episode 3 at Valley Fest. In canon, Daniel is having a hard time finding new students, who are put off by his chore-based training methods. To help get exposure, Daniel decides to hold a solemn karate demonstration with Sam and Robby at the upcoming Valley Fest fair. In canon, when Johnny hears about this, Cobra Kai interrupt them with a much more flashy demonstration of their own set to "Back in the Game" by Airbourne, winning over the crowd and stealing the spotlight from Miyagi-Do as Daniel and his students look on with contempt.

In this timeline, however, Valley Fest puts Miguel's loyalties to question. If nothing changes, and Cobra Kai hijacks the demo as happens in canon, Sam is mad at Miguel for raining on Miyagi-Do's parade and not telling her about it in advance. So Miguel, not wanting to jeopardize his relationship with Sam, or at the minimum interested in softening the blow, either gives Sam an advance tip-off and preemptive apology, or better yet, convinces Johnny to wait until Miyagi-Do has finished before they do their show (risking being called a pussy by Johnny). Sam still has some bitter feelings towards Cobra Kai for putting on a demo that overshadowed Miyagi-Do's, though accepts Miguel's apology about the matter, as happens in canon when she argues with Aisha about this at the beach club and they decide it's not worth fighting over.

Episode 4:

Episode 4 is where Sam's rivalry with Tory begins in canon. Daniel takes Robby and Sam to a beach club, where his attempts to promote Miyagi-Do to local parents are overshadowed by Cobra Kai's display at Valley Fest, with Aisha's mother praising the difference that Cobra Kai has made in her daughter's life. Meanwhile, Sam tries to make up with Aisha, who is upset about the slight against Cobra Kai in Daniel’s ad, but ends up in a quarrel with Tory, whom she accuses of stealing her mother's wallet (having witnessed Tory stealing liquor at the club beforehand). Tory responds by pushing Sam into a dessert table and walking away with Aisha.

Not much about this would change, especially where the rivalry between Sam and Tory is concerned, because it's important for me to note that in canon this inciting incident for the rivalry was before Tory hooked up with Miguel. That wasn't until the next episode.

Meanwhile, through circumstances, Tory also runs into Robby, befriends him, and enters into a relationship with him. In season 3, we see them form a connection after Robby joins Cobra Kai over how they're the ones who bore the blunt of the punishment for the school brawl, and their troubled home lives. So we see that here, with Tory also using elements of the playbook she used in the actual timeline to seduce Miguel, which in this case means convincing Robby that he needs to pretend that he's over Sam. Kreese finds out about the relationship between Robby and Tory, and since he's wanted to snag Robby this whole time, he decides to use Tory as a pawn to influence Robby, in hopes of both eventually getting Robby to join Cobra Kai while also getting revenge on Daniel for humiliating him and Terry Silver back in 1985.

Episode 5:

In episode 5, the mall fight still happens, but with Miguel taking Robby's place. It would work nicely since Miguel is Demetri's friend too. (Robby's on a date with Tory, which is why he's not here)

In this version of events, Sam and Miguel go to the mall with Demetri. Demetri is confronted and attacked by Hawk and several other Cobra Kai students as a reprisal for his Yelp review. Demetri flees into the food court, where Sam and Miguel come to his aid. Despite being outnumbered, they utilize the "wheel technique" to soundly defeat their opponents (Miguel knows it because Daniel, at Sam's request, agreed to give Miguel a private one-on-one lesson with him and Sam in the LaRussos' home dojo). Proud of his students, Daniel resolves to continue training Demetri at a slower pace, and also convinces Miguel to consider joining Miyagi-Do, saying that Miguel could use some new fighting moves for when he defends his title at the next All-Valley Tournament. Sam and Miguel have an intimate moment afterwards (either a passionate makeout session, or they make love in Sam's bedroom).

Hawk is infuriated by Moon breaking up with him AND the fact that Miguel is consorting with the enemy by aiding Sam (in fact, he's noticed Miguel growing distant from him and the rest of Cobra Kai ever since the tournament, having spent more time with Sam than with his friends from the dojo). So when Kreese notices Hawk blowing off steam, he encourages him to continue the fight. That night, Hawk and his Cobra Kai followers trash the Miyagi-Do dojo and steal Mr. Miyagi's Medal of Honor.

Enraged, Daniel confronts Johnny in front of the students at the Cobra Kai dojo. Although Johnny honestly denies any knowledge of the incident, the two nearly come to blows until Miguel steps in and forces them to stand down, getting Daniel to remember his promise not to alienate Miguel from him. While Daniel predictably fails to get any restitution out of Johnny, he nonetheless succeeds in convincing a number of Cobra Kai students to walk out and join Miyagi-Do instead...including Miguel. There's a small smirk on Kreese's face as Miguel leaves, since Miguel's no longer around to oppose him, and he hopes the friction between Robby and Miguel will get Robby to leave Miyagi-Do and come over to Cobra Kai.

Episode 6:

So for the next two episodes, Miguel is now at Miyagi-Do. Although Robby does not trust Miguel (thanks to Kreese using Tory to indirectly manipulate him), Daniel reveals that he himself used to be Cobra Kai before seeing the error of his ways, and tells the class that it doesn't matter who they were before — as of now, they are all Miyagi-Do. They work together to raise a heavy stone slab that Hawk's gang knocked over.

At the Cobra Kai dojo, Johnny punishes the students with strenuous exercises, seeking to root out who was responsible for trashing the Miyagi-Do dojo while also trying to reach out to Miguel, trying to get him to come back (with no success). He then receives a call which brings him to the hospital to visit his old friend Tommy, who is suffering from a terminal illness. Along with Bobby and Jimmy, the former Cobras resolve to treat Tommy to one last day of fun. His departure allows Kreese to corrupt the other Cobra Kais, moreso than in canon where Miguel was around to raise objections. The OG Cobra Kais, besides taking issue with Johnny for letting Kreese back in the picture, don't exactly help Johnny when they suggest that maybe it's for the best that Miguel is on the side of the LaRussos for now, as they've come to develop a lot of respect for Daniel and Mr. Miyagi since the tournament in 1984.

Episode 7:

I'd divide up the training sessions of Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do to happen on separate days. Miguel participates with Sam in the meat locker training scene, taking Robby's place in the canon scene, while pairing Robby up with Demetri or Chris. Meanwhile, Hawk acts as Tory's partner in Coyote Creek instead of Miguel.

Meanwhile, Miguel suspects that Hawk was behind the trashing of Miyagi-Do and it was as payback for the mall fight. Finding out somehow that Cobra Kai are training the following day at Coyote Creek (because someone, maybe Stingray, was foolish enough to post it on social media), he decides to bring Sam and some of the other Miyagi-Dos to ambush the Cobra Kais. Miguel does the ambush on and beatdown of Hawk and takes back the medal of honor, while Sam attacks Tory and gives her a beating, even though Tory wasn't a participant in the vandalism of Miyagi-Do. Daniel's not happy with Sam or Miguel, but Sam counters that they have to show they won't stand for being picked on.

When Tory tells Robby about what happened, Robby is understandably torn on his loyalties. On the one hand, he's got to be loyal to Miyagi-Do, but Tory is his girlfriend, and his resentments towards Miguel begin to resurface. Tory is furious, recalls the same thing Kreese said to get Hawk to trash Miyagi-Do in the first place, and swears revenge on Sam. And for that matter, the Cobra Kais also want revenge on Miyagi-Do.

Episode 8:

Johnny gets Miguel to come back to Cobra Kai, now that Kreese has been expelled and isn't around to teach them in his old ways. Daniel is sad to see Miguel go, but tells Miguel that he's always welcome at their place for private sessions with Daniel and Sam. While Hawk is glad to see Miguel back, Miguel keeps him at arm's length in light of the vandalism and what happened at the mall, and Tory puts on a poker face to hide her hatred of him (which is another reason why she's targeting Sam: to hurt him by proxy).

80's night at the roller rink in canon is the first time Sam and Tory have crossed paths since episode 4.

In canon it goes like this: Tory invites Miguel to the roller rink, and Tory trips Sam for talking to Miguel, getting Sam and Robby ejected from the rink.

In the alternate timeline, it goes like this: Tory invites Robby to the roller rink, and she kisses Robby in front of Sam, something Sam doesn't react well to because she sees Tory as dragging Robby down and potentially undoing the hard work Robby has put into turning his life around ever since he entered the LaRussos' lives. Miguel tries to smooth things over with Tory for Coyote Creek, with little success because he doesn't realize just how deep Tory's hatred for him and Sam is. He starts to realize this when Tory trips Sam moments later, leading Sam to retaliate with a leg sweep, and Miguel also retaliates by getting in Tory's face. As a result, both Sam and Miguel are kicked out of the rink.

Episode 9:

Moon's party goes down a bit differently when it comes to Sam, Miguel, Robby, and Tory's actions.

In the show, while Miguel is by the pool kissing Sam, Robby's inside getting food for a very drunk Sam. However, he gets distracted as the summer-long tension between Hawk and Demetri escalates, and he has to step in and defend Demetri.

Here, due to circumstances, the roles are reversed and Miguel is the one inside defending Demetri from Hawk, while it's Robby who's outside by the pool with Sam, just making sure she's all right (after all, he's the son of two alcoholics). There's no drunk kiss, and instead, Robby and Sam are being friendly, talking, and Sam is raising her concerns about Tory being a bad influence on him. They're seen by Tory, and like when Miguel approached Sam at the roller rink in the actual timeline (or in canon when Miguel saw Sam being friendly with Robby at the LaRussos'), she misinterprets the whole thing in a way that fuels her hatred for Sam that has been festering ever since Sam beat her up at Coyote Creek.

When the police break up the party, Robby hastily decides to take Sam back to Johnny's apartment like in the show. Tory happens to see him getting Sam into his car, and decides that Robby isn't entirely over his feelings for Sam. Giving her another excuse for the school brawl.

Miguel isn't anywhere near them, so he reaches out to Johnny. Johnny calls back when he gets to his apartment and finds Robby and Sam there, or Miguel finds them together there. In either case, there's a short fight between Robby and Miguel (due to Miguel, who has been fully aware this whole time that Robby had a crush on Sam, fearing Robby was taking advantage of her) that Johnny quickly breaks up, with Johnny placating Miguel enough to get him to back down. Miguel takes a few deep breaths, focuses, goes over to his apartment to get his mother, and she quickly whips up a hangover cure for Sam. Carmen also sees fit to call Sam's parents to let them know that she's all right, and they can come pick her up in the morning.

Episode 10:

The Sunday morning after Moon's party, Daniel comes by to pick Sam up. Meanwhile, Robby begins to reconcile with his father. He is thankful for Johnny's help, and when Daniel shows up to take Sam home, Robby is willing to accept the blame to prevent further tension between the two men.

When Daniel arrives, there is no "rematch" between him and Johnny, and nothing of him disowning Robby (it's actually a bit redundant seeing as Robby's going to provide Daniel with a reason to hate him later). Johnny just hands Sam over to Daniel, Daniel takes her home. He's not happy that she seemingly turned to Johnny instead of him in her hour of need, but accepts that that's an issue for another day.

Over that Sunday, Robby and Johnny reconcile at Johnny's apartment, while Miguel goes over to the LaRussos' house and talks things over with Daniel, Amanda and Sam. He apologizes for not being more attentive to Sam, as he was busy trying to defend Demetri.

That Monday, Johnny takes Robby to school. Even as Johnny's attempts to be fatherly to him on his first day of school are awkward, Robby appreciates that he is trying, and encourages his father to make peace with Daniel, believing that the two of them could learn some things from each other.

Shortly into the morning announcements, Tory assaults the teacher and seizes control of the intercom to announce an ass-beating of Sam. Like in the show, the two girls circle each other in the hallway, with Robby and Miguel frantically racing to reach them. Miguel gets there first and manages to briefly separate them, only for Robby to arrive and — believing that Miguel is attacking Tory — start his own fight with him. With Miguel also giving his all, still pissed at Robby for (seemingly) trying to take advantage of Sam.

The brawl thus plays out the same. And the outcome of the Sam vs. Tory and Miguel vs. Robby fights are the same. In the girls' fight, Tory shifts her spiked bracelet to her knuckles, slashing Sam's arm before threatening to slice her face with it. Sam regains the upper hand and knocks her down a staircase. Meanwhile, Miguel pins Robby to the floor, but, remembering what Johnny said about the difference between having no mercy and no honor, shows mercy and apologizes. However, Robby’s anger at Miguel over having everything Robby doesn't have--the tournament trophy, the romance with Sam, Johnny's preferential treatment, Daniel's approval-- boils over and he seizes the opening to attack Miguel, inadvertently kicking him over the stairway balcony and paralyzing him.

In the aftermath, Daniel is furious that both his daughter and her boyfriend, who he's come to like ever since the tournament, are both in the hospital with injuries. He also blames Tory for corrupting Robby once he learns from Sam that Robby had been dating Tory.

Season 3:

Season 3 has some differences in the details, but otherwise stays mostly the same.

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At the end of the day, the rivalries amongst Sam, Miguel, Robby and Tory are made a bit stronger by cutting out the love triangles. With Sam vs. Tory, that rivalry is balanced out a bit by having Sam be a contributor to the increasing tensions between them, not just Tory doing everything. While Robby vs. Miguel is a bit stronger rivalry due to the fact that Robby has to interact with Miguel a lot more, all while having to bottle up his resentments of Miguel so he doesn't lose the LaRussos' hospitality.

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fridayfirefly · 3 years

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Fairest of the Fair

Read Fairest of the Fair on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 9 - Teen Titans

"We've got five hours until the fair closes. That's five hours of funnel cake, Ferris wheels, and rigged carnival games," announced Dick as they stepped out of the car in the parking lot of the Jump City Fair. It was a tradition for the Teen Titan team to visit the fair every year. At first, it had been an effort to humanize them to the citizens of Jump City, to show that they were more than just superheroes. Now, the reason that the team went every year was simply that it was fun.

"I can't wait to try everything." Marinette had been looking forward to the Jump City Fair all summer. It was her very first American fair, and Gar had promised that he would show her around, giving her the full fair experience.

"C'mon, I smell funnel cake." Gar grabbed Marinette's hand as they ran through the crowds.

Marinette laughed. "I was coming with you, you don't need to pull me along."

Gar let go of her hand and pouted. "We need to get there faster. Just think of all the funnel cake we're missing out on while we're standing around talking."

"We can still hurry. I just don't want to run into anyone." Marinette giggled as she followed Gar through the crowd. He wove in between the crowds of people like an expert, scampering right through the chaos of the fair crowds without disturbing a single person. Marinette found it a little more difficult - she was much less nimble than Gar, but every time she fell behind he waited for her to catch up.

"I followed the smell of funnel cake right to its source and here we are." Gar stopped in front of a food stand proclaiming itself to be All-American Funnel Cake. "This is the best cuisine America has to offer."

"Of course. Everyone knows that the greatest American delicacies are carnival food. Who needs gourmet crêpes and macaroons when you can have funnel cake and corn dogs?" joked Marinette.

"Exactly. I'll order our food, you find us a seat."

Marinette strolled through the seating area, trying to find a bench that wasn't covered in syrup and melted ice cream. When she finally found a suitably clean chair, she collapsed into it. She was already sweating from the hot August sun beating down on her, and she couldn't wait to get her hands on something to drink.

"I got the funnel cake and lemonade," said Gar as he set them down on the table.

Marinette grabbed the cup of lemonade and took a long sip of it, savoring the chill. "It's so hot out here. How do you stand it?"

Gar shrugged. "It's all part of the fair experience. It's miserably hot in the day, but it still manages to get uncomfortably chilly once the sun goes down. That's why I brought a jacket."

Marinette shook her head. "If I were wearing a jacket right now, I would probably pass out from heatstroke. Your ability to withstand extreme heat must be one of your superpowers if you aren't even sweating."

"Stop talking about me and start talking about funnel cake," Gar whinged. "You came all the way to America just to try some."

Marinette laughed. "I came all the way to America to join the Teen Titans. The funnel cake is just a bonus." Taking a generous bite of the carnival food, Marinette proclaimed, "I like it."

"Yes!" Gar cheered. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and marked something down. "Step one: have Marinette try funnel cake. Complete."

"You have a list?"

"Your first-ever fair is an important occasion. I want to make sure you didn't miss out on anything."

Marinette smiled. "That's sweet of you. So what are we doing after this."

"After this, we play the rigged carnival games. Then we ride one of the many spinning rides. Then we'll get roasted cinnamon almonds. Then we check out some of the art competitions. Last but not least, we ride the Ferris wheel as the sun sets. Then we meet up at the car with the rest of the Titans to watch the fireworks and go home after."

"That all sounds like fun to me." Marinette finished her lemonade and funnel cake, then turned to Gar. "Ready to go lose at some carnival game?"

"I was born ready." Garfield grabbed Marinette's hand and led her to the carnival game. There was a hoop toss game, a game where you popped water balloons using oversized darts, a game of knocking down coke bottles with baseballs, something vaguely resembling ski-ball.

"Which one should I pick?" asked Marinette.

"They're all varying degrees of impossible, so just pick the game with the best prizes."

Marinette scanned the rows of colorful stuffed animals until she saw the one she wanted, on a shelf beside the ski-ball tracks. "I want the green kitten," she exclaimed, pointing.

"Why?" Gar sounded amused by her enthusiasm.

"It reminds me of you," Marinette admitted.

Gar smiled. "Okay, I'll help you win. We'll win it together."

Ski-ball was harder than Marinette remembered. After twenty minutes and twenty dollars, she and Gar still hadn't managed to get all ten ski-balls into their respective holes.

"Face it, Gar, we just aren't good enough to win."

Gar shook his head. "I'm not leaving until I win you that kitten. One more set of ski-balls." He handed a five-dollar bill to the game attendant. "Do you want the first ball?"

"Sure, but this is the last time we play. I'm not letting you spend all of our food money on this ridiculously impossible game." Marinette grabbed the first four balls off of the counter and gently rolled each one of them up into the first hole, and Gar successfully rolled the next four balls - the first eight were easy. It was the ninth and tenth ball that they failed on. "I'll take nine." Marinette brought her arm back, then swung it forward and released the ninth fall. It landed perfectly into the ninth hole. "It's all on you, Gar."

He narrowed his eyes, plucking the ball off of the counter. This was the closest they had gotten to winning. He swung the ball forward, tracking the arc with his eyes until it... landed right in the final hole.

"You did it!" Marinette cheered, grabbing Gar's hand and lifting it up in the air. "Winner!"

"Here's your green cat." The game attendant handed the stuffed toy to Marinette, who clutched it against her chest.

"I love it! I'm naming him Milo and keeping him forever."

"Alright, now that you've won your first rigged carnival game, you and Milo need to pick out one of the many rides here to try it." Gar pulled a map of the fairground out of his pocket and started pointing out rides. "I recommend the Merry-Go-Round, the Tilt-A-Whirl, and the Paratrooper."

"Which one is closest?"

"The Tilt-A-Whirl is just to the left and around the corner."

Marinette grabbed Gar's hand and pulled him along. "Let's go!"

Together they ran through crowds of people, darting around people and out of the way to avoid bumping into anyone. They made it to the Tilt-A-While and rode until Marinette got so dizzy she couldn't walk in a straight line and Gar laughed so hard his face turned red. Then Gar and Marinette made their way to the Merry-Go-Round, where they rode it a couple of times. Then they met up with Dick and Kori and got more carnival snacks with their friends.

"Say cheese!" instructed Marinette as she paused to take a picture of her friends for the official Teen Titans Instagram account.

Kori grinned and pulled Dick closer to her. Gar reached for the camera in Marinette's hands. "Turn the camera around and make it a selfie."

Marinette did as instructed, moving her own head in front of the camera and grinning as she took the picture. She quickly typed a caption. Enjoying cinnamon glazed almonds (Beast Boy's favorite) and butterbeer at the fair. Hope everyone's having a great day in Jump City! "And... post!"

Marinette sat down to enjoy the snacks, Gar slipping his hand into Marinette's. "Try the cinnamon almonds first, they're delicious."

"They'd better be," teased Marinette. "You've been hyping them up all week."

"I could write poems about these almonds, they're so good. And I know I could probably get them any day of the year, but I only ever get them when we go to the fair so that they never lose their appeal."

Marinette popped a handful in her mouth and hummed in appreciation. "Oh, these are good. I'm going to have to get a recipe for these, so I can make homemade cinnamon almonds."

Gar's eyes lit up. "Homemade cinnamon almonds. That might be the best combination of words I've ever heard in my life."

Marinette playfully narrowed her eyes. "What about 'I love you.'"

Gar's eyes widened. "Um, third-best combination then. Right after when you told me, 'I love you', and when I told you, 'I love you.'"

"Good save. The execution could use some work though. I give it an eight out of ten," joked Dick.

"I'll be generous, and give it an eight point five," added Kori.

"Hey, only I get to tease him," protested Marinette as she gazed at Gar lovingly. "Now feed me more almonds."

Marinette ate another serving of almonds and drank two glasses of butterbeer before Dick and Kori decided to separate from them and find the trapeze tent. Gar got his list back out, checked off the activities they had already completed, and announced, "Now it's time for more rides. Paratroopers, here we come!"

Just a few minutes later, Marinette was pressed against Gar's side as their cart swung through the air. "This is nice," said Marinette. "The Jump City Fair gets the Ladybug stamp of approval."

"Just wait until you see the fireworks. The grand finale is amazing. You'll love it," promised Gar.

"I bet I will." Marinette rested her head on Gar's shoulder as she watched the world spin around them.

When they got off the ride, Marinette and Gar walked hand-in-hand to the art competition tents, where paintings were hanging all around the tents.

"Look at this one!" Gar pointed to a painting of the Teen Titans in action, fighting the H.I.V.E. Five in the streets of downtown Jump City. "This one has my vote!" Gar called out.

"Shush," said Marinette with a laugh. "You're biased."

"Nope. No bias here. Just pointing out what is objectively the best painting he's ever seen."

"Oh really. If you're such an impartial judge, tell me why it's objectively the best painting."

"Because you're in it, Buginette." Gar grinned at her, pointing at Ladybug in the picture, fighting Jinx with her yoyo.

Marinette laughed. "You're so cheesy."

"To be fair, you did walk right into that one," Gar defended himself as they left the art tent. "If you're going to leave yourself vulnerable to compliments, I'm going to take that opportunity to compliment you."

"Oh, look at the sunset!" exclaimed Marinette as she saw the yellow, pink, and orange sky.

Gar slipped his hand into Marinette's. "It doesn't hold a candle to you."

Marinette got onto her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're too sweet. Now let's go ride that Ferris wheel."

Gar and Marinette walked to the Ferris wheel hand in hand, getting into a car and riding it all the way to the top, where they could see the sunset reflecting off of the ocean.

"You were right, it does get cold," said Marinette with a shiver.

"Here, take mine." Gar took off his jean jacket, laying it across Marinette's shoulders.

Marinette smiled. "How about we split the coat while we're up here. We'll just have to squeeze together." Marinette pressed herself up against Gar, moving the jacket so that it draped over both of their shoulders. Sighing softly, Marinette watched Gar with a smile on her face.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Gar.

"I just don't want to forget this moment."

"I can fix that." Gar pulled his phone out of his pocket, started a video, and turned his camera around so they were both in frame. "How are you feeling, Buginette?"

Marinette kissed his cheek, then smiled for the camera. "Perfect."

"Jump City Fair is a success." Gar ended the video as the Ferris wheel started up again, moving them back down to the ground.

"Every day with you is a success."

The fireworks started as they walked back to the car, bright and colorful. Marinette slid her hand into Gar's gently rubbing circles with her thumb. She knew that he used to be scared of fireworks - still was, a little bit - as a result of his animal tendency. Gar flinched back as the boom of fireworks sounded above him.

"Focus on my voice," said Marinette. "I love you. I love you more than all the stars in the sky. I love you more than all the drops of water in the ocean. I love you forever."

Gar wrapped his arms around Marinette. "I know. I love you too."

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #garmari #garfield logan #marinette dupain-cheng #teen titans #miraculous ladybug fic #my work #MaribatMarch2021

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ssa-sugar-tits · 4 years

Text

queen of hearts // chapter four

summary: y/n y/l/n was crushed when she found out about maeve donovan. heartbroken, she left her entire life behind. what happens when she becomes the most prolific serial killer the bau has ever seen?

prologue + series masterlist & taglist

content warnings: swearing, angst, implied/mentioned sex, restraints, blood, head injury, kidnap/hostage, alcohol, gunshot, murder

a/n: reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know are experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

The room was filled with tension and an overwhelming sense of despair but no one said a word. No more hellish arguing, no irritatingly random facts, not even discussion to solve the case. Everyone worked on their angle of the case and despite the fact that no one would dare admit it, they all somewhat hoped that Y/N wouldn't be caught. Some hoped more than others but deep down they all felt a twinge of it. JJ walked into the room and spoke, startling the team and ripping them away from their thoughts and guilt.

"I've given a picture of her to the media, it's being circulated."

It pained her-- almost physically-- to have to hand over a picture of someone who'd been like family for so many goddamn years. She felt that she was betraying Y/N and that made her feel indescribably horrible.

"Now what? We just wait?" Morgan seemed to be the only one that really did want to stop her. Maybe he was angry that he hadn't seen the signs. Maybe he was angry that his best friend had just... left. Maybe he was angry that she lost herself so much. Maybe he blamed himself.

"What else is there to do Derek? Call me bad at my job- Hell, call all of us bad at our jobs but we can't profile her. Admit it, we're all biased. Too biased to think straight but there's no way we can give this case to another unit." Emily had always been so close to Y/N and was able to open up to her. Something she couldn't bring herself to do with most people. But you weren't most people, were you? Even with what Y/N could be doing, Emily doesn't have it in her to hate her. The sadness she was feeling must have shown because JJ squeezed Emily's hand and gave her a weak smile. And for the millionth fucking time, everyone stayed silent. Not even Spencer was saying anything and he is not the type to stay quiet this long. Believe it or not, that was actually one of the things Y/N had loved about him. Everyone rolled their eyes or cut him off but she loved to listen to him ramble. To everyone's surprise, she was always genuinely interested in what he had to say and that was one of the first things that made him fall in love with her. She never invalidated him or called him strange. Sometimes when she had a nightmare or experienced anxiety she'd even ask him talk to her about a random topic so she could focus on his voice until she calmed down.

"Your voice is like... honey. In my ears." Spencer wanted to scream with emotional torture building up as he remembered how she'd laughed when she said that and how he'd had smiled at her with nothing but adoration and love.

"That seems unsanitary Y/N."

"You're such a smartass."

"Am I?"

"Definitely. But it's ok. I love that about you. I love you."

"I love you too."

She'd planted a sweet kiss on his lips before laying her head on his lap and listening to the rest of his topic rant. Still basking in the memory of Y/N, a sharp pain entered his hand and he realized he'd dug his crescent nails into the palm of his hand. And in that moment, he couldn't help but think about how much he'd love to be holding her hand right now.

"Guys!"

They all turned to Garcia, the source of the exclaim, who was walking in with Hotch.

"A bartender downtown says he just saw a woman matching Y/N's description leave with another man."

"She's chosen another victim? Here?" Rossi asked with confusion written on his face. "Up until now she's only killed 2 people per state and knowing the BAU has been called in, why is she staying here?"

JJ stepped in,

"This place is special to her, she has history here. Y/N must have an endgame but what is it?"

"The profile says she'll take as many people as she can with her. Probably suicide by cop."

Derek had accepted the situation. So why did that hurt to say?

"Rossi will go to the bar and talk to witnesses. Reid and Prentiss, stay here with Garcia. JJ and Morgan, PD is surveilling the radius around the bar and setting up roadblocks, come with me to help them."

"There's no way I'm staying here." Spencer objected.

Stay here and do nothing? Like hell.

"Neither am I, what the hell Hotch?"

"Reid, Prentiss that's an order. You're not going."

They both started to argue again but Hotch had already left. JJ and Derek followed and Rossi stood up with to leave for the bar. Apologetic looks were shot at Spencer and Emily because they all know why they have to stay behind. They're the two closest to her, the two that wouldn't be able to keep their emotions from affecting them on the field. And with that, off they all went.

Y/N's POV

The second you get to his hotel room, your lips crash against the handsome stranger. Your next victim. He pushes you against the wall and you moan loudly. His hands roam your body and you pull back.

"Hey... Go lie on the bed and wait for me."

Panting and staring at you with lust, he complies. Of course he does.

For God's sake. This man doesn't even know your name.

To be fair, Spence didn't even know Maeve's last name. And he still chose her.

You walk over to the eager man on the bed. Your hot breath on his neck, you lean close and whisper to him.

"We're going to do things my way."

He moans and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at him in disgust.

"Yes ma'am."

Taking out a rope, you tie him up and you know he thinks you're just a kinky slut. That's what they all see, isnt it? Suddenly something roars inside of you. Forgetting your usual routine, you pick up the lamp on the bedside table and smash it against him. Crimson stains the bed and you drop it, shocked by yourself. Yes, you've done worse. But it isn't the act that's sending regret and nausea through your body, it's that you're devolving. You're losing control.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Starting to panic, you take the unconscious man and check for a pulse. He's still alive.

Giving him a shower (much to your disdain) and change of clothes, you put his arm over your shoulder and walk out of the room giggling as you pass one of the housekeepers.

"Baby, you're such a lightweight! Let's get you out of here."

The housekeeper barely gives you a second glace but when she enters the room of the man you've taken, she starts to scream and you know you're running out of time.

Run. Drag him. Just hurry the hell up.

Finally at his car, you take him to the small studio you own downtown. No one can find you here. It's been yours for nearly a decade and you aren't stupid enough to have told anyone about it or put it under your name. Granted, you'd never thought you'd have to use it to hide out from the feds, it's still useful. After taking a look at the brightly colored wall in your basement, you feel a sense of sudden pain race through your veins. You used to be normal. You used to have a life.

The man is chained up, gagged, and bleeding but you can't even remember doing anything to him. What you need is numbness. They thought the other bodies were bad? Wait til they fucking see what you do with him. Pain shoots through your skull again and you wince and fall to the ground.

"Fuck. I- I need a drink." you stammer to no one in particular but yourself.

A wig and sunglasses make you look different enough from the woman being circulated to take the bus to a nearby gas station. Walking down the liquor aisle of the store, you hum a song to yourself and let the AC blow on your skin. Vision blurred, you bite your lip and taste the unmistakable strong metallic taste of your own blood. Still humming that fucking song. The song you'd danced to with Spencer in your living room before you'd made love for the first time.

"You cannot be serious!"

"Y/N! I can't dance."

"Oh come on. How bad can you be? Seriously, the songs going to end and it'll be too late."

"Yes, that's what I'm hoping for."

"Psh. Don't tell me Doctor Reid is scared to sway around a little."

"Shut up."

"Make me." you laughed.

With one playful look, you dared him to shut you up in the most passionate, sensual way he could. But instead he put his warm hands on your hips and swayed to the song. You melted into his touch and your breaths synced as you laid your head on his chest. His heart beat was steady and calming. One hand reached for yours and intertwined before twirling you and pulling you back in to dance. He'd held you until it was over and brought your chin up to his face. The kiss was so intense, so loving. He tilted his head and pulled you tighter to get as close as he could to you. His tongue met yours and your mouths bathed in each other's taste. Running a hand through your hair, you'd started to unbutton his shirt. He'd been taken aback at first but then picked you up and placed you in the bedroom ever so softly. Placing gentle kisses all over each other's bodies and undressing for the other, you made raw, breathtaking love for the first of many times.

"Hey lady! Get out of the way!"

"W-What?..." You tremble and realize you're crying on the floor of the aisle.

"I said get out of the damn way, some of us got places to be."

The man is clearly batshit drunk. Probably here to buy his next fix. Shaking and letting yourself actually feel your emotions, you stand and use the wall to balance yourself. The man that yelled at you curses to himself as his phone rings and he picks it up.

"Hell do you want? Thought you were still mad about Andrea."

Andrea? Mad about Andrea. Another cheater. Another liar. Right? It has to be.

Before you can process what you're doing-- how irrational it is-- the gunshot rings through the store and everyone turns to see the man before you on the ground, screaming and spitting blood. A mix of a laugh and a sob escapes you and you scream.

"Everyone on the fucking ground! If I see any cellphones, I'll shoot you just like this dickhead. Got it?"

Frightened people drop to the ground and you start to yell, incoherent bullshit again. You smash the freezer glass behind you and open an expensive bottle of bourbon.

You practically whimper having to take deep gasps in between words, but in a somehow still confident, fearless tone.

"Now let's have some fucking fun."

But what you didn't know was that the cashier in the front had sent a text 5 minutes earlier.

Call 911! The girl from the news, the Queen of Hearts. She's in the store.

What you didn't know was that the woman that recieved the text had called immediately.

911, what's your emergency?

What you didn't know was that the BAU was on their way.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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vv3nti · 3 years

Text

BIRD BOSS (part three)

[social media hybrid]

summary: y/n wants to rush her recovery process, putting her hero career on hold for what should have been a simple injury was devastating. she was ready to give. but the number two hero had an irresistible proposition. but he lands himself in a rocky situation as a crush develops on y/n; who quite frankly wants none of his shit. will hawks win her heart or will someone from her past steal it away?

warnings: language!!, angst, fluff, some ooc—sue me, CRACK, and LANGUAGE, pay no attention to timestaps, adult talk??? excuse the mistakes pls and ty

2.4k words

SERIES MASTERLIST

NO. NO. NO. NO. Your eyes widen as they fell upon your boss’ relaxed figure, chatting with your friends. What the hell was he doing here, and why did he look so casual among your peers? There was still time to make a run for the door; no one had even noticed you descend from the bathroom; feigning sickness didn’t sound like a bad idea right about now. This wasn’t the plan; Hawks was supposed to go home and meet you on sunday, not stay and mingle. He was ruining the atmosphere; people were gawking and staring at the pro, bringing unwanted attention to your table. Why would he think, showing up to a mediocre downtown club was a good idea? You didn’t have much time to dwell because Mina exposed your existent as she called you over. She smiled brightly, countering your set grimace. Keigo turned around slowly, a smirk decorated his lips and a glint in his eyes. He knew what he was doing; he found it quite amusing and rather eventful.

“Y/N! Look! It’s Hawks.” Mina gleamed, her drunken state failing to keep her excitement from bubbling over; she was practically bouncing off the floor. The time you told her you’d be working for the pro-hero, she went ballistic, bombarding you with a profound number of questions. Sure, the girl did have a special love for heroes but let’s not forget Hawks’ popularity due to his appearance, which granted him a few extra points in Mina’s book. It took a lot of self-restraint not to roll your eyes at your starstruck friend as you traveled to the booth.

“Yes, I see. What is he doing here?” you emphasized, turning to Hawks, the previous glare returning to your expression. If your eyes had mouths of their own, they would have told him to fuck off in a multitude of ways. You hoped he’d take the hint and leave you be, but to your luck, Keigo either didn’t notice or choose to ignore. You bet on the latter.

After a few seconds of your stare off, Keigo straightened his posture, flashing his pearly whites. “Hello, babybird.”

“Answer the damn question.” That earned you an elbow to the gut from Mina.

“Well, I know I told you to give me the bill on Sunday, but I thought it’d just be easier to take it straight from the source.” He scissored his centurion black card between his pointer and middle finger. He feigned surprise before reaching down on the table, grabbing a white iridescent clutch. “And you forgot this.” Hawks confessed, handing you the bag. You knew you didn’t take a purse to the gala, and you knew Hawks knew you didn’t take a flashy purse to the gala. So what the fuck was this expensive piece of material doing in your hands. “Consider it a thank you for showing up tonight; finding a last-minute date would have sucked.”

The explosive blond spoke up, all attention rushing his direction. “You gave her your card already; a simple verbal thanks would have done.” He snapped with a scowl. To say Bakugou had a distaste for the pro-hero would be an understatement, and he has zero hesitation voicing his dislike. It was painfully obvious Bakugou was envious of Hawks; number two hero, highly on almost all charts, and good looking, he had it all and at the mere age of twenty-three. In truth, you believe he looked up to the wing hero, but even if that were the case, her friend would never admit it.

Keigo took notice of the boy's irritated persona; he wasn’t a stranger to haters, but right now, he’d rather Bakugou not ruin the moment. Absent Mindlessly waving his hand around, Hawks remarked, “Well, maybe, I like to spoil my employees, Ground Zero.” The quick look of surprise on Bakugou’s face satisfied Hawks, as did Mina praising how sweet he was. “I’ve seen you on TV before; your quirk is just as explosive as your personality, too, huh?” He sassed, the snarky response earning a few giggles from your friends.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, grumbling incoherently as he sunk further into the plush seating. If this went on any longer, you swore you’d choke on the testosterone.

You turned towards the booth. “Hey, he’s only messing around with you, Katsuki. Just let it all out by order drinks, yeah?”

The smug expression vanished from Keigo’s face rather quickly, a confused one taking its place. You're on a first-name basis with this guy? He thought, though, he tried to mask his it as best he could when you focused your attention back on him.

“Listen, thank you for the drinks and this.” You lifted the clutch in your hand. “I appreciate it, but I-” The pink-haired girl to your left softly tugged your arm. The desperation in her eyes caused you to look away only to meet the begging stares the rest of the group bore into your figure. Guilt crept up your spine—no, you shouldn’t be feeling this way, but you didn’t want to disappoint your friends. So much for a night off.

You signed, dragging a hand down your face. “Fine, you can stay.”

The night progressed relatively smoothly; it was a surprise to you how well Hawks mixed with your friends. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves in his presence. Well, everyone except for Bakugou, who continued to sulk by himself. His sour attitude prompted you to a stand, reaching your open palm in his direction. Bakugou ignored your offer, but you were persistent and wouldn’t take no as an answer.

“Katsu, please.” A whine pulled from your throat, attracting the attention from the winged-hero talking with Momo, Kirishima, Denki, and Mina. “I want the legendary ‘Lord Explosion Murder’ mix, and you’re the only one who knows the order, c’mon.”

You squealed as Bakugou grumbled in agreeance; you clutched his wrist and started your departure to the bar. The rest of the table paused their conversation, watching you leave. Hawks didn’t remove his gaze until you were entirely out of sight; confusion racked through him again. He found himself wishing you talked about your personal life more because as he’s out with you now, he doesn’t seem to know anything about you.

“That’s the nicest Bakugou gets.” Denki laughed. “And I have to say I’m jealous. What a world, him not hating me.”

“Well, you should’ve snatched him up first,” Momo replied, giggling profoundly when the yellow-haired boy glared. Not that he would ever admit it, but when they first met, Denki had quite the crush on Bakugou. “And maybe he’d be your boyfriend, huh.”

Mina’s entire being jumped in her seat, eyes wide and lips pursed. She slapped Momo’s shoulder sharply, giving her a pointed look, one that a mother would give their child when they’re acting out in public. “Bakugou is not her boyfriend.”

“Maybe if he ever got around to confessing his feelings to L/N. It’s been years at this point.”

Oh, was this interesting? Hawks shouldn’t find this as intriguing as he did; this was his assistant, for fuck’s sake; he should be professional instead of indulging in this drama. But, hey, when has he ever been known to keep things traditional. Keigo deemed his attraction to you a given crush; isn’t it abound to happen to two people who work closely and spend a lot of time together? Right? Whatever the reason, he couldn’t seem to just enough. You’re a drug, and he’s addicted, obsessed, always wondering when he’ll get his next fix.

Mina rolled her widen eyes. The girl was far too biased to even indulge in the conversation, but she couldn’t help but peeve. Mina had her money on Hawks swooping into your life before Bakugou ever got over himself. “A girl can only wait so long.” She huffed, perking up as the explosive blond rounded the table. “Where’s Y/N?”

Bakugou mumbled something about you taking too long to order, causing the group to erupt loudly. He was never great showing his affection around other people, huh?

“You left her up there?”

“By herself?”

“What the hell, Bakubro?”

“What about the Lord Explosion Murder.”

“Dude!”

All noise ceased as Hawks stood up, his chair sliding back against the dark wood. “I’ll go check on her; I need a refill anyway.” The bass of the club drowned the sound of ice rattling against his glass.

You tapped your finger to the rhythm on the beat as you waited, watching the bartender move from person to person. Unfortunately, they were out of orange citrus syrup—to key ingredient to Bakugou’s said drink mix—so you had to find something else to get. You didn’t mind waiting, though. Reading the odd cocktail combinations was quite entertaining as long as you didn’t have to go back and face Hawks.

“Hey.” Keigo’s voice caused you to glance behind you. He leaned over your shoulder to place his glass on the bar, his warmth mixing with your own. Hawks was exceedingly close to your body; you were able to smell his spicy cologne as his front lightly grazed your side. You partially expected him to pull away, put some distance between your bodies but part of you knew he would test the waters. “What’re thinking?” he asked smoothly, eyes grazing the menu. “This sounds good.” Angel Wings was the name of the daiquiri, how cute.

You felt your cheeks begin to flush, this was too far, and you’re intoxicated. Keigo’s usual teasing comments and flirty gestures you could effortlessly ignore, but this was entirely different. There was no room to shuffle away from his figure, for someone occupied the space next to you. Why did he find so much pleasure messing with your head? Truthfully you aren’t surprised; this is what Hawks does; he reels girls in and leaves a trail of hearts in his wake. You’d witnessed it a handful of occasions. Angry, pained, desperate girls trying to either enter the agency building or spam your social media to reach the hero. You will not fall victim to his charms, but as you turn to the side, your eyes meeting his yellow ones, you felt your facade grasping for dear life.

A chillingly squeaky voice pulled you from your trance. “Can we please take a picture with you?” Two petite girls stood feet away, clutching phones in their shaking hands. “Sorry, we just have never had the chance to meet a pro.” You don’t think you’ve ever been so thankful for quirky drunk people.

On the opposite spectrums of things, Keigo internally cursed; he was so close. And although he had no clue what he was close too, it felt right. But thing one and thing two had to show up and spoil it. Before acknowledging the two, he turned back towards you only to see you’d moved away from his touch and started conversing with the bartender. Fuck. Despite his frustration, Hawks equipped his award-winning smile and accepted their request.

“Sorry bout’ that, babybird.” Keigo hummed sheepishly. He knew you dislike the alum of attention he attracts when performing mundane activities, and by the slight squint in your eyes, he figured the distaste settled in you once again.

“Hmm, here.” Your fingers grazed his own as you handed him a fresh drink. Of course, you knew his order. “I'm used to it, gotta take care of the fangirls.” The prior encounter was still fresh on your mind; you cursed yourself for allowing Hawks to get into your head like that. Your walls stood up pretty high, but tonight, he almost made it over the top for whatever reason.

“I'd much rather it be you be one of my fangirls.” And the teasing was back. Classic. “I could always make some exceptions for you, take a few pictures.” He suggested, lips curling into a sinister smirk.

You rolled your eyes, your head lolling to the side. A part of you wanted to play his game, ruffle his feathers a bit, but on the contrary, that would successfully add gasoline to the raging flames. You took a sip of your drink. “My friends really like you.”

Keigo couldn't say why, but the compliment made his heart flutter. He wanted acceptance from your peers. Made him feel like he was doing something right for once in his godforsaken life. Running into you was his golden ticket; Keigo never hesitated when it came to you; he’s always so sure. That’s one reason he keeps you around because as much as you invade his thoughts, you also focused his mind. “Not all of them.” Why would he bring him up? “What’s his problem, huh? Got a crush on you.” Keigo said teasingly, masking the sour taste in his voice.

A stream of air blew from the nose as you shook your head with a small smile. “Aha, no. Katsuki, he…” you trailed off, searching for the right words. The mood dampens. “He blames himself for what happened. He took it remarkably hard, so he’s kind of protective. But no, he does not have a ‘crush’ on me.”

Hawks wanted to ask more questions, he craved to fill the gaps, but he refrained. He wanted you to open up to him on your own will; although he was reasonably comfortable around you, Keigo knew you still put walls up around him. He respected it, but that didn’t mean he’d stop trying. “Either way, he has a major stick up his ass. Popularity charts are gonna be rough on him.”

“I know,” You want Bakugou to succeed as a hero; it’s all he's ever wanted. But his hostile disposition was going to hold him back. “You should teach him the rings,” You joked, partially.

“No can do, I'll be too busy teaching you, babybird.” Hawks was quite the optimist, but you figured he was just trying to make you feel better.

You looked down, stirring your drink. “Tch, whatever.”

“It's true; we’ll be an unstoppable duo!” Hawks beam, waving his hand in the air enthusiastically.

“If I take your offer.”

“Oh babybird,” Keigo paused, inhaling through his teeth. “You signed a contract. You're stuck with me for life and the afterlife.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.” With that, you left him standing at the bar. Not only did you want the last word, but you also wished to get back to your friends. This was their night, after all. “Hey, take care of your fan club before joining us.” You motioned to the group of people gawking at the winged pro.

taglist: @therealwalmartjesus @katzurras @noonewouldlisten25 @cathy8taffy

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frauleindermorgen · 3 years

Note

lavender : how easy is it to gain your muse’s trust ? once their trust is broken , how might one go about mending it ?

Oh, this is a fun one for her. For the first question: Micaiah forms her opinion on a person within minutes of meeting them (or hearing about them, we'll get to that). This is partially because she's had to do so in order to survive (though less so than many other Branded), partially because she can sense emotions, and because of the latter also partially born of overconfidence and dare I say pride in her own judgment.

You see this with Nailah and Rafiel early on but I think it’s best analyzed through the lens of how she treats Pelleas and Ike throughout the game.

(warning RD spoilers through part three and RLY LONG)

Pelleas first, since we actually get to see their meeting and the origin of Micaiah’s feelings whereas her opinion on Ike has already formed before the events of RD (I just want a Tellius series of interim novels is that too much to ask)-.

Micaiah is understandably shocked and at first refuses when Izuka asks her to be a general in the liberation army – she wants the best for Daein, and although she’s become something of a legendary figure someone with no battle experience isn’t going to make a good enough general.

But then Pelleas steps in and asks her to reconsider, and she accepts.

She explains to Sothe shortly after this exchange that the reason she accepted was because she could sense the truth and belief behind Pelleas’s words. Working together with the people of Daein post Ashnard’s war was the closest Micaiah has ever come to the feeling of belonging and community and she will sacrifice anything for it and senses the same in Pelleas (“he cherishes the same wish I do”).

I wish I could write more about how despite having literal psychic abilities Micaiah still has the tendency to project her own thoughts onto others and is often times quite a biased source, but I don’t quite have the words so just keep in mind for the rest of this piece.

We spend most of the time in Part Three of RD with Ike or Elincia and the Laguz Alliance/Sanaki partnership and it’s very clear that storywise they are 100% in the moral right. In chapter six checking in with Micaiah for the first time since she’s become the unified army’s general she has this exchange with Sothe:

M: The Daein Royal Army will answer Begnion's request and attack the Laguz Alliance at the Ribahn River. Those are our orders from King Pelleas. As his subjects, we will obey him.

S: Without even asking why? Daein is finally on its own. Why are we even speaking to Begnion, let alone fighting for them?!

M: I don't know. I do know that King Pelleas wants what's best for Daein...just like us. He must know something we don't. I trust him.

Her excuses for Pelleas are flimsy, and continue to be but she clearly believes in her king’s motives even if she admits to Sothe she thinks using the laguz as scapegoats is morally reprehensible (but something she is willing to do for the sake of her own goals).

It's ironic... I'm killing with no malice, because I don't want anyone [of mine] to be killed. I... What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to stand back and let all of Daein perish? Is that the "just" thing to do? If that's what it takes to be just, then I want nothing to do with justice.

This is an incredibly important quote for Micaiah because it solidifies that while Micaiah acknowledges that there is a greater good and evil in the scheme of things it is not the morality she is concerned with. She wants to protect the people right in front of her even if in the long run that brings suffering. Pelleas is one of those people and her perhaps naive worldview has her convinced that his care for Daein will eventually save the country.

Her feelings toward Ike come from that same view: because he helped Crimea (the moral thing, as she admits to Sothe, he’s a good man) he inadvertently hurt the people of Daein and it’s something she holds against him until they’re basically forced to work together.

One way in which Micaiah’s opinion on Ike’s differs is much of it in my interpretation stems from the way Sothe fiercely defends him (see her infamous “father of sothe’s children” line), in that way her distaste for Ike stems from purely her own emotional reasons while her belief in Pelleas is tied into her ultimate trust in the goddess and fate. The latter is proven correct in the end but she never does have that final reckoning with Ike.

For trust, Micaiah rarely shows enough of her true self to really let anyone in. I think her defrosting attitude toward Ike near the end of the game is the closest to seeing what it would be like if someone broke her trust but then really worked to make it up to her. She’s able to tell him “thank you, your time with him changed [Sothe]” when it was partially this relationship that made her originally deride him so.

Because Micaiah tends to be avoidant when she is emotional I think if someone she truly trusted broke that trust they would need to make a real effort to continue to reach out to her, chase after even. Because she is stubborn. Ultimately it would have to be worth it to the both of them.

#|memes #//asjfhas i thought i could finish this after work but it's so long just take it #the next ones wont be like this i just had a lot i was alrdy thinking about that relates to this ask

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wekeepcoming · 3 years

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I use this blog to enjoy Death Stranding, but I want to come on and speak about the PS5 Sean thing. I normally don’t comment on the JSE community, as it’s very biased towards Sean. And I kinda stopped watching him after 2017 b/c I felt like he was drifting from his moral compass. Especially after I learned he and Signe broke up. That caught me off guard, actually. But what really caught me off guard is when I learned he had a new girlfriend rather quickly. I had heard of Evelien “Gab” Smolders before... But not for a good reason. See I learned about her when she made the terrible “Herro” comment she made about Ada Wong back in like 2019 I think... And I didn’t know her well enough to think anything but “Damn that’s fucked up” and “that’s racists as all Hell”. I never thought about her again until I learned her and Sean got together... And then, if you watch a clip of him talking about when him and Evelien got together, the math adds up to the fact... That it’s pretty obvious Sean was cheating on Signe. He pretty much maps it out. If you watch this video and go to timestamp 0:50, he tells the story - dramatically- about how he and Eveline met. And he even talks about being on his tour... Which Signe was on with him at the time. And then I think back to when poor Signe was getting blamed for their breakup and people saying she was abusive to Sean (oh yeah, people were saying it)... And I just feel bad for her. Cheating is a BIG no no for me. I have no respect for it, no matter the reason. You don’t do that. It’s messed up... it also explains why Sean was adamant about people not bugging Signe about the break up... B/c I would snap out too if people bugged me about my ex who cheated on me with a married woman!

I’m the same age as Sean. Im actually a month older than him. I know when someone is trying to gaslight or manipulate me. And Sean has shown signs of that over the past two years as well. His constant excuses for things are usually him not taking responsibility when he needs to. Which is something else I have a no tolerance for. You’re a thirty year old grown man, Sean. You’re acting like a dumbass child when you puff up and go “well it’s not MY fault, obviously, it was so-and-so’s fault”... Which is exactly what he’s done. The last incident of this that I remember seeing is when he was making excuses for Nopeify and calling him a dumb teenager. They’re nineteen years old. Granted, at nineteen I did stupid shit... But I wasn’t being homophobic and I didn’t make very obvious school shooting “jokes”. That is just being downright disgusting and very much not okay.

After 2017, I didn’t really care too much about Sean’s channel. His content was getting boring and he was changing a lot. I noticed it when he’d collaborated with Mark or Wade or Bob and the others. And yeah I still popped into his stuff from time to time (that’s how I learned about him and Gab). It was clear to see he was changing. And not in good lights. His confident boost he has gained... It has not made him a better person. Back in the past, it was very obvious he was willing to take responsibility for his errors. Which he’s admitted he did b/c he was afraid of being canceled.. Not because they were genuine mistakes or anything... But at least he took responsibility.

I wasn’t mad about the PS5 comment until he brushed off everyone’s complaints for “it was a joke”... Listen, I know everyone has a different sense of humor... But if people aren’t laughing, then you might wanna rethink your “jokes”. Also! When you made that Corona virus joke about Mark back in like February or March or whenever that stream for GTFO was... You realize, sir, that the man you just made that comment to is half-Korean and of the Asian community. Which is receiving deadly hate crimes and being accused of the outbreak because it was sourced from Wuhan, China (and because the goddamn cheese puff that used to be in office kept calling it “Chinese virus” and making it exclusively like it was an Asian centered virus... ) Yeah, didn’t fucking think did you, boy?

Listen. If Sean was some sixteen year old blabbering about, I wouldn’t give a shit. But he’s my goddamn age and it’s pretty clear his stardom is starting to click and warp him. He’s become materialistic and money driven. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to make money. That’s fine... But waving that money over people and pushing products out while people are financially struggling and pretty much guilting people about donating or buying his stuff... That’s disgusting. Honestly, it gives me Jeffree Star vibes and that’s NOT a complement. And honestly I think he got worse when Gab came around. Toxic, racist, and money digging as she’s shown to be... If someone is willing to cheat on their husband then hook up not even a month after they divorce them... Then that’s just you being gross.

Alsooo, Sean (I love that this turned into me writing it like I’m in his face yelling at him Hah), last I checked you’re supposed to be Irish. And the Irish used to be heavily persecuted and had xenophobic hell thrown at them for centuries... You out there being discriminatory or classist is very much against what your ancestors fought against. You’re a shit stain on Irish history when you act like a fucking rich bitch twat. Very childish, kid. And dating someone who says openly racists things? Thatttt makes you come off just as racists as well... Although the fact you were comfortable with making Asian racist jokes with JadenAnimation back stage on tour is enough for me to look at you sideways and with disgust.

Also, I love how your sudden LGBTQA+ support streams happened around the same time businesses were profiting off the LGBTQA+ community with pride related objects and billboards... yeah I noticed that. Real cute 😑

Look, I don’t hate the guy. But his actions aren’t favorable and he needs a real world vibe check, because Sean, you could easily find yourself under the cancel culture stomping boot and I wouldnt even bat an eye in surprise. It happened to Dawson, it can happen to any of the “speak more positive” YouTubers out there (granted, Dawson’s stunts go back to more really tasteless jokes and racist shit but heyyy, you’re starting to not be too far off from where he was soooo...).

And for all you big Stans out there. I don’t care if this annoys or upsets you. Everyone preaches about holding celebrities and higher up people accountable for their actions... Sean shouldn’t be exempt from this just because you’re simping or a mega fan who thinks he’ll praise you if you stand up to people calling him out... If he would address his issues with sencerity and show he understands what he’s done wrong, I might even be forgiving. But this recent PS5 shit really makes me think he’s heading down a bit of a Paul brother hole... Actually, no, because the Paul brothers even know they’re being assholes and own up to it. You, Sean, do not.

#jacksepticeye #sean mcloughlin

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peremadeleine · 4 years

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just-another-fangirl-22 replied to your post:

Hey, I’ve been interested to learn more about Anne Boleyn so I was wondering if you could recommend any good books about her?

Absolutely!

Book recs: The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn (Eric Ives), The Creation of Anne Boleyn (Susan Bordo)

I 110% recommend you start with Eric Ives’ The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn, which is sometimes called the “Anne Boleyn Bible” in that it’s by far the most thorough and least-slanted examination of her life (though Ives does admit that he admires his subject). It’s a little bit dense, but very informative, and I wouldn’t suggest beginning with any other biography just because almost every other is so biased one way or another.

From there, if you want to keep going, Susan Bordo is the author of he excellent The Creation of Anne Boleyn, part biography, part cultural critique examining how Anne has been portrayed in literature and on film in the 500 years since her death (thus the title). It’s entertaining, readable, and fascinating.

Of the three most common/well-known books about all six of Henry VIII’s wives, all of which have somewhat lengthy sections about Anne, I’d shoot for the ones by David Starkey or Antonia Fraser. Both have their drawbacks--Starkey’s a lifelong Tudor scholar but is also notoriously sexist and states a lot of questionable or biased information as the gospel truth, and Fraser thinks Anne was a poser in terms of her religious convictions--but they’re better than Alison Weir, who I would highly recommend you avoid. She’s everywhere in popular Tudor nonfiction (and fiction...), so you’ll probably end up seeing her name a lot--she has a biography of Anne, too. But she’s...not...very reliable.

Online resource recs: The Anne Boleyn Files, On The Tudor Trail

The Anne Boleyn Files is another good starting point (especially if you can’t get your hands on new books right now). It’s a website run by Claire Ridgeway--who also does a series of videos about Anne and Tudor history in general on YouTube--and is a really accessible, invaluable resource.

Documentary recs: Claire Ridgeway’s YouTube channel, “Henry and Anne: The Lovers Who Changed History”

My go-to source for audio/visual information would still be Claire Ridgeway’s videos, and I’d be wary of most documentaries until you read more about Anne and form your own thoughts based on the actual evidence we have for her life. That said...

“Henry & Anne: The Lovers Who Changed History,” presented by Suzannah Lipscomb, is a pretty even-handed (if somewhat romanticized) analysis of Anne Boleyn’s life and marriage. It’s available on YouTube!

David Starkey has a documentary series on all Henry’s wives, but again, make sure to take his biases into consideration if you watch them.

“Secrets of the Six Wives” is another widely available, recent documentary presented by Lucy Worsley that DOES have some decent points to make about Anne...but also notable exaggeration, misinformation, and omissions. There are a number of other Wives documentaries from the past 10 years or so that I haven’t watched, but which might also have some decent info...if you start with credible sources like Ives or The AB Files, you’ll know what’s missing or misleading in a lot of this media and can appreciate the good stuff!

(I would not recommend “The Last Days of Anne Boleyn,” which gives way too much airtime to George Bernard--the only academic I’ve ever heard entertain the notion of Anne being actually guilty--and histfic authors Mantel--whose attitude is more or less “Anne was probs innocent but deserved to be taken out”...gross--and Gregory, of “Other Boleyn Girl” infamy.)

And finally, there are a lot of great blogs on this website that you can use as jumping-off points, too! Some are dedicated just to Anne; others are run by Anne enthusiasts.

@lucreziaborgia @alicehoffmans @madamedepembroke @historicwomendaily @anne-the-queen-daily @lapetiteboullan @theladyelizabeth @marriageandthecrown @tiny-librarian @fyeahanneboleyn @redxluna @glorianas ...just to name a few.

Sorry that this turned into such a wall of text. Ives really is the place to start, or check out Claire’s site/channel. Hope this is somewhat helpful rather than intimidating, and happy reading! 😅

#just-another-fangirl-22 #feel free to add/elaborate anyone and everyone!#I'm kind of sad realizing how much utter crap I consumed about anne before ever finding the credible sources #I WISH I could go in with fresh eyes!#anne boleyn #sorry if I missed you in that list D: running on 5ish hours of sleep

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thessalian · 3 years

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Thess vs Credulousness

I’ve been watching The Crown lately, and I admit it’s partly because I’m curious about what the people in this country are ranting and raving about. They’re bitching about how Harry Windsor is cashing in on letting Netflix sully the good name of the royals, and misrepresenting everyone, and blah de blah blah blah. The thing is, I’ve heard all this, in a different context and with more potentially legitimate grievance, before: about Hamilton. Everyone screaming about how “It wasn’t really like that!” and “Why are you making heroes (or, in the case of The Crown, villains - though I imagine Gillian Anderson’s Margaret Thatcher is going to get ‘heroes’) out of those people?!?” and so on.

Meanwhile, I sit here going, “...It’s fiction.” Yes, it’s based on actual events and real people, but it’s still a fictionalised account. It has to be, because no one involved in its making was there when it happened, and they have to write something gripping and dramatic based on what little they do know. I guess I wonder two things:

why people don’t understand that

why people don’t expect anyone else to understand that

I feel like it has something to do with the demonstrable credulousness of far too large a segment of ... well, most populations, really. I just wish I understood more about where it comes from. I don’t really know if it was like this when I was a kid, but I know it wasn’t like this for me when I was a kid.

See, my mother was not in the habit of censoring my entertainment media. I watched and read a lot of stuff far beyond my age range as a kid. Part of it was because I guess she didn’t really want to censor her own viewing; she worked late a lot, and by the time she could settle down and have some quality time with me, there was nothing age-appropriate for a kid on TV, and VCRs were still a pretty new thing and we couldn’t quite afford one yet. So when I sat down with my mother to watch TV, we watched what she wanted to watch, and the understanding was twofold: that I would ask about anything I didn’t understand, and that I should not believe everything I saw on TV or read ... basically anywhere.

Effectively, my mother taught me critical thinking. She’s losing the knack of it herself, I think, but she taught me to really read what was in front of me, and confirm its veracity if possible. To ask, or to check with other sources, if I had questions or concerns. To not just believe the first thing that came along ... or, I suppose, the thing that fits my personal biases best. She won’t do that anymore; she has news outlets that she refuses to read, calling them ‘communist garbage’ ... but while my go-to news outlet is the worst of her ‘communist garbage’, I do look at what other sources have to say. It’s not my fault that the papers that my mother doesn’t dismiss as ‘communist garbage’ are, on thorough reading, highly partisan towards a right-wing government that’s punting us off the cliff-edge of disaster into what really is a lemming situation. Because, you see, lemmings aren’t suicidal. They don’t deliberately jump off cliffs. They’re just precipitate little buggers who get too close to cliff edges and get pushed off by their equally precipitate fellows at the back of the pack.

Anyway, not my point. The point is that it feels like we’re approaching historical fiction entirely the wrong way at this point, and it’s in the exact same divisive, reactionary, us-vs-them way that we seem to approach everything else at the moment. We should be saying, “This is a fictionalised account, all written things are by necessity biased because they are written by humans and humans have subjective opinions that colour everything they do, verify the things you see and have questions about through multiple other sources to triangulate on truth, do not believe everything you see, hear, or read". Instead, half of us are saying, “Wow, that all really happened?” and wholeheartedly believing a fictionalised account while simultaneously ignoring any historical non-fiction that would at least give a different perspective, while the other half are yelling and screaming at the people who made the fictional account for misrepresentation when these people are just doing their jobs and trying to make something gripping and dramatic out of a historical account that was generally left as dry facts with no personal account by those involved whatsoever. The first involves a highly credulous group of people who choose not to exercise critical thinking. The second seeks to protect the credulous people instead of finding a common ground that would actually educate the credulous instead of letting them live in their own personal echo chambers.

I’m not going to say whether historical fiction based on actual people or events is good or bad. I’m saying it exists, and it can be entertaining. I think it just needs critical thinking applied to it. I can separate real!Hamilton from Miranda!Hamilton, and I can separate real!Queen Liz from Netflix!Queen Liz just fine, thanks. I learned how. Instead of banning or cancelling anything that’s not a 100% accurate representation of an event, how about reminding people that critical thinking exists? It might make the whole world a better place, and would sure as hell make Tumblr and Twitter less ... hellscape-y.

Incidentally, apropos of not much, I don’t think that Matt Smith is much of an actor in terms of range, but his stage-and-screen Matt Smith-ness seems to make him quite a good Prince Philip, insofar as I understand the real-life Prince Philip. Which means that Matt Smith is good at playing over-enthusiastic, occasionally sulky arseholes, but I guess everyone needs a niche. And speaking of misrepresentation, their ‘streamlining’ of the issues about the name of the royal house means that they actually rewrote Philip’s one bit of reasonableness; they had him on his uncle’s side about renaming the royal house ‘Mountbatten’, instead of flagging up that he wanted to compromise by calling it the House of Edinburg to reflect his title. (Incidentally, I wonder if there’s any chance of poking at the Sovereign Grant Act to reflect the fact that, while there’s still a certain amount of upkeep required on the royal holdings, the duties for which they’re paid by the government to perform have been nil this year because of the pandemic and the advanced ages of most of the family. If other poor bastards had to have their pay cut when they got locked down because COVID, why not them?)

Also John Lithgow does have incredible range, and his handling of Churchill’s physical and mental decline is some stellar acting.

#Thess has opinions #Thess watches stuff

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tazzytypes · 4 years

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Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 10

Hey y'all. Got this chapter written out pretty quickly because I'm super excited for what comes next. There's one more chapter until we get into arc 2 of the fic. At that point, I'll probably take a break from updates until I finish planing out some stuff (probably about two weeks or so). Thank you as always for your comments and Kudos! Also: let me know if you can’t find my fic in the tags. For some reason I have to delete and repost 3 times before it shows up.

Read also on AO3 or see the Masterpost for more chapters!

The room was filled with the cracking of the fire. After her interaction with Coco, she and Gallant had upped the drama tenfold. Em felt like she was back in high-school -- the wanna’-be Abercrombie and Fitch models and America’s Got Talent stars whispering amongst themselves and snickering. You always knew they were talking about you because they wanted you to know they were talking about you, eying you up and down just to make a point.

So Em wandered to Langdon’s office. She had grown up, but it didn’t make the pair’s antics any less annoying. They had taken up the library as a show of power so the brunette had gone to the only place they couldn’t go.

Curled up on the sofa, Em was writing in a journal. Her knees pulled up to her chest and the radio playing lightly in the background, she could almost pretend she was back home on a rainy day.

Langdon was working across from her at his desk, typing away at a laptop he had smuggled inside. Ever so often, she’d look up at him. His eyes were always focused on the task at hand. Dark brows would furrow as he turned away from the screen to check something he had written down in a notebook.

It amused Em. So, he did have work on a higher level, beyond the interviews and selections.

“What’s your opinion in regards to your fellow residents?” Langdon asked out of the blue. It took a moment for his words to process, but after a moment she finally responded, eyes still focused on her notebook.

“With all the lurking you do I suspect you know my opinions.”

“You hate them,” He noted, still typing away at his laptop, “Yet you help them. Why?”

“I reserve my hate for people that matter,” She corrected, “They annoy me.”

“Yet you help them.”

Em sighed and looked up at him, offering a half-hearted shrug, “I’ve always had a problem saying ‘no,’ and Coco isn’t used to hearing it.”

It wasn’t entirely true. She had said those words to him ample times… Venable as well. It meant she deemed Venable as deserving of her anger, but what about Langdon? What did he mean to her to warrant being able to say that one simple word?

He didn’t push it.

“Gallant isn’t too bad,” she noted, “he just wants to be something to someone.”

“What about the Stevens?”

“Is this another interview?”

“Conversation,” He corrected, briefly looking up from his work, “It isn’t as if we can talk about the weather… and I value your opinion.”

She smiled and placed her notebook to the side.

“Andre…” she mused, looking off to the side as she thought, “He’s a wounded animal. Stu and I clicked and we only knew one another for a week at best, but anyone with eyes could see they cared deeply for the other. Besides Timothy and Emily, they were the people I considered myself close to.”

“And Dinah?”

Em’s answer was quick.

“Would do anything for her son, but after the incident we don’t talk much anymore. Andre needs her and considers everyone else an enemy in some shape or form.”

“The incident?”

Her voice was surprisingly matter-of-fact. There was no sign of distress or shame. She was reading from a history book that resided in her own mind.

“Venable fed us a person,” the brunette explained, “of that, there is no doubt. Timothy still has the finger to prove it. Just a bone, but I know a human finger when I see one.”

“Who was it? They said Stu was contaminated.”

Em read him like a book.

“Why do you ask when you already know the answer?”

Langdon ignored her question, only offering a shrug as he continued to work. “How did that make you feel?”

“Different.”

“Different?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He dropped the subject, grabbing a file from his desk and slowly walking over to her as he read it. So, this was just a conversation. The blond would be much more attentive if it were an interview, more calculating.

Stopping at her shoulder, he sat on the arm of the sofa. Em stiffened as his hand absentmindedly grabbed her own as he continued to read. The file was rather thick — too thick to be a file on one of the residents. Unless he had one that contained the contents of Coco’s twitter page. From what she could see there were no pictures, ruling out that theory entirely.

With a frown he set the file on the back of the chair, pulling her hand into his lap and playing with her fingers as he stared into the fire. They trailed over her palms as if the lines across it were a map to whatever he was searching for. Her neck felt hot, red splotches rising up it and onto her cheeks.

“…and I already know your opinions about the other four,” he mused, more a mutter than a statement, “Evie?”

He sensed the look she gave him without turning his head. “Right.”

“Then again I’m biased,” she noted, pulling her hand away before her palms could start sweating. Langdon seemed to realize what he had been doing and quickly straightened. Standing off to the side, he straightened his jacket and returned to his desk.

The blond’s questions brought up introspection on her own end, insecurities and worries rising to the surface. There was an argument to be made about projection. When she looked at Emily and Timothy, she saw people who were like her, like all the friends she left behind. If the pair survived then somehow Em’s friends survived — the ones who worked hard and deserved so much better.

Langdon was watching her. Blue eyes narrowed in on the absent void in her eyes he had seen in the hallway before.

“You look tired,” he noted, pulling her from her thoughts, “trouble sleeping?”

“No,” Em admitted, returning from her trance and sitting up on the couch before she fell asleep. The room was so warm. “I sleep fine… just wake up heavy.”

“Heavy?”

“Like my limbs are made of led,” she explains before waving a dismissive hand, “I just tampered off the last of my medication so it’s probably just withdrawal. Would certainly explain the weird dreams I’ve been having.”

This caught his attention, “What sort of dreams?”

“You really sound like your interviewing me,” she noted.

He smirked, sitting on his desk, “ye of little faith.”

“Now it sounds like an interrogation. We seem to talk about the same things over and over.”

“There’s little to talk about,” he reminded with a chuckle, “remember?”

She merely shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“Well?” he prompted, waiting for her to answer his question.

“My mind is what I hold most dear.”

“Some think the mind dies with the body.”

“Is that a threat?”

“I’ve learned threats don’t work on you.”

Em rolled her eyes, much to his amusement, “you can be one of the most annoying people… and I’ve spent the last year with Coco and Gallant.”

“You’re hedging.” Langdon sang, laughing as she held up her hands in defeat. Biting her lip, she tried to stay annoyed. The second she saw his grin, her own began pulling at her lips. He just stared at her. He could have stared at her for hours.

The smile eventually faded as she sighed, relenting to his demands. “I dreamed I was burned alive, but I wasn’t myself… I was someone else. Couldn’t tell you who.”

Langdon stiffened, but only for a moment.

“Do you often have dreams like that?”

“My dreams have always been weird,” She admitted, “side effect of an overactive imagination.”

He nodded and took a seat back in his chair, flipping his laptop back on and waiting for the screen to load. “I imagine confinement in the after-effects of the nuclear apocalypse does little to help.”

Em was quick to change the conversation. Her dreams were something she both took pride in and felt embarrassment from. They inspired her stories, but also made for awkward conversation when anyone asked for the source of said inspiration.

“What are you working on?” The brunette asked.

“Classified,” he replied on instinct, tone telling her something had popped up which required his focus. However, he had made a promise.

“Langdon.”

He looked up and sighed, eyes flickering to her before returning their attention on the task at hand. “My job doesn’t end once the selections are completed. I have to arrange transportation back to the Sanctuary as well as keep tabs on operations on the inside which have taken place in my absence.”

“Sounds like you’re an important person?”

The man smirked at that, “you think they’d let just anyone decide the fate of residents?”

“You know what I think.”

“That I do.”

They lapsed into silence once more. One minute passed… two… twenty. She went back to writing in her notebook and Langdon went back to typing away at his computer.

He would occasionally reference back to files, one hand keeping his place while his other typed. His movements were a soothing white noise that helped her think upon her notes.

Langdon had been right. Em would never fully trust him until she got into the Sanctuary. When that time came, she’d then have to prove her own honesty.

Her morality refused to let her friends die, however. No matter what oath she made. Loopholes… she had to find loopholes. Em couldn’t tell them what she learned or about her deal. Atop all that, she had to give Langdon a wide berth to work.

She didn’t necessarily have to tell them anything. Not if she manipulated them, pushed them in the right direction. It wouldn’t compromise Langdon’s mission. It wasn’t as if she was getting them into the Sanctuary by giving them all the answers. She was just pushing them to find the truth. Timothy and Emily were already on the right path, after all.

Em hoped they found something of weight in the man’s room. Then she could assess the situation properly.

Langdon flipped through his files, trying to find a specific one. Not outwardly marking them was a pain in the ass, but it was a needed secrecy. Something caught his eye and he stopped, flipping back a few pages and looking up at his companion.

“Happy belated birthday,” He said. Em’s nose scrunched in confusion as she looked up from her book. For a moment she seemed to be doing the math in her head. “You were born an exact week before Halloween.”

“When’s Halloween?”

“In two days.”

She hadn’t even noticed. It wasn’t as if there was anything to look forward to. If she was being honest, she had forgotten what day it was. The hours seemed to blend together the longer she stayed in the outpost.

“Halloween was the theme of many birthday parties,” she said with a smile, trying not to look too disappointed, “explains a lot, if I’m being honest.”

“Such as?”

“Fascination with the macabre and occultism,” she admitted, “all those… weird things.”

“I don’t find it weird at all,” he reassured, “how old are you now?”

“23.” She said, the pair lapsing into silence before she spoke again, “when is your birthday?”

“March fifth,” he answered.

She bit her lip and looked up at the ceiling as she thought before letting out a frustrated sigh. “I was going to try and guess your zodiac. That’s how people flirt, isn’t it?”

“It was also the trademark of the Zodiac killer.”

“Well… shit.”

He laughed, shoulders shaking as he wandered back towards the couch.

“Pisces,” he said, plopping down opposite of her.

“That means you’re… that’s the fish one, right?”

His cheeks hurt, “you’re terrible at this.”

“I don’t exactly have the Sunday paper to reference.”

“Are you trying to tell my future now?”

She rolled her eyes and swatted him with her book. He watched red crawl up her neck and to her cheeks as he continued to chuckle at her antics.

“Okay, fine,” Em relented, “another topic then — what do you miss most about the old world?”

“You’re filled with questions today,” he noted, trying to hide his amusement but unable to rid the smile that took up his entire face.

“I’m tired of having one-sided conversations,” the brunette corrected. She tried to look stern, but failed miserably. “Believe it or not I don’t actually like talking about myself as much as I have.”

Langdon rose an incredulous brow, “oh?”

“Okay,” she admitted, “maybe a little, but who doesn’t?”

He laughed and she smiled. God, it had been so long since he had laughed.

“What do you miss?” the blond countered, chuckling as she sent him a scathing look.

“Did you not hear a word I just said?”

Rolling his eyes with as much dramatics as he could muster, he finally gave her an answer.

“There are many things I miss about the old world, but things must be sacrificed for the new one.”

“I’ll hit you. I really will.” She snipped, “that’s not an answer.”

Em knew with one look that he was doing this on purpose. His smile was shit-eating and smug. The game of cat and mouse continuing.

“Yes, it is.”

“For a politician, maybe.” She said, staring at him silently until he gave her the answer she wanted. He had to think long and hard. Langdon hadn’t lied — he missed a great deal of things. But what did he miss the most?

“The freedom,” he decided with a nod of his head before gesturing to the rest of the room, “dress these places up as much as you want, but they’re still cages.”

“And the sanctuary is different?”

“No,” he admits, “but it’s certainly larger.”

“By how much?”

All he gave her was a smirk, “you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Will I?”

He just stared at her and she stared in return. Both of them were trying to read something from the other as if there was some sign that they were telling the truth.

Em didn’t know what to feel. There was a fascination she felt when she looked at him. When she spoke, she felt a familiarity, their conversations were so easy and natural. She would see the twitch of his lips as he read or the way he crossed his legs and it felt like she sat there a hundred times before. Part of her wanted to see it a hundred times more.

Landon’s brows furrowed and sat up a bit.

“You’re crying,” he noted.

Confused, Em placed a hand on her cheek. When she pulled back it was wet. Her brows furrowed as well. Why was she crying?

“Odd,” she muttered, “allergies, possibly.”

“There’s nothing living here.”

“There’s dust,” Em noted, chuckling a bit, “lots of it.”

They weren’t stopping, her eyes watering over and over again. Langdon found himself reaching forward to wipe them away. Why did he have to get so close to her? She’d bump noses with him if she leaned towards him even half an inch.

“I have a few more interviews to conduct,” He noted, pulling away quickly and rising to his feet, “I hope to speak with you soon.”

“Yeah,” she noted, swiping at her eyes and grabbing her notebook, “same time tomorrow?”

He smiled and shook his head, “would I be able to stop you?”

“Probably not.”

Carefully closing the door behind her, Em both ways before making her way back to her room. God, the tears weren’t stopping. It was more annoying than anything. She could hardly see.

Turning the corner, a force slammed into her shoulder. The brunette stumbled back slightly before hands centered her once more.

“Hey,” the familiar voice of Emily chuckled. Then she noticed her tears, “What’s wrong?”

“Allergies,” Em said, scrunching her nose and fanning at her face, “god, they haven’t been this bad in years. I feel like I’m chopping a fucking onion.”

Emily could only laugh, stepping back and pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully she dabbed at her friend's eyes. “Here.”

“Ugh,” Em groaned, gently taking the piece of fabric from her friend’s hand, “maybe it’s a hair. Can you see anything?”

Em turned her head up and did her best to keep her eyes open. Emily shook her head.

“Nothing.”

With a sigh, Em went back to dabbing the tears away and started to move down the hall, “maybe it’s a stray hair. I’ll meet with you and Timothy later, okay? Need to get whatever it is out of my eye.”

Emily could only step back and let her friend pass.

“We’ll be in the library!” She called after Em. The only sign the woman heard her being a thumbs up thrown up above her head before she turned another corner.

There was something going on with that girl. Emily could feel it in her gut. She just didn’t know what.

***

“What did you find?” Emily asked her as soon as she entered the library, barely giving the brunette enough time to take a seat.

Em looked around the room, ensuring the three musketeers were the only people in the room. Timothy leaned on the other side of the table. Emily was pacing behind him as always.

“Nothing,” she said, her heart twisting as she blatantly lied.

Timothy scratched at his head, cheeks puffing out before she let out a long breath. He glanced at Emily who paused her pacing, lips pursed as she held back her disappointment.

“Nothing?” She echoed.

“He’s like a shadow,” Em said, turning sideways in her chair to face them properly, “always lurking somewhere. Was barely in there ten minutes before he showed up.”

Dragging his hands down his face, Timothy punched his brow and flexed his jaw. God, he was not made for this kind of work. He wanted to be an engineer, not a spy.

“We should stop while we’re ahead,” he said, glancing between the two women.

Emily gave him a look somewhere between shock and anger. “Don’t you want to know the truth?”

“He could kill us for this,” Timothy hissed, “leave us for the cannibals. Don’t you remember what he said?”

His girlfriend rolled her eyes, “I have ears, Timothy.”

The man shook his head, tapping his knuckles against the table and avoiding her gaze. Em watched their interaction. She wasn’t about to get in the middle of a lover’s spat.

“Is the truth really worth it?”

Emily’s response was immediate, “Always!”

Timothy sighed, “look, why don’t we wait till after the selections to find the truth. That way we don’t die.”

“And be trapped in another cage?"

“He has a point,” Em noted, the ebony-haired woman turning on her heels to face her. Emily felt betrayed, face contorting with anger.

“If you two want to die in your ignorance so be it!” she hissed before storming out, the door slamming shut behind her.

Timothy was staring at the floor, hand going up to scratch at his head and then rub at his neck. It didn’t take a genius to see he was conflicted.

“She’ll cool off,” Em reassured.

“I know.”

“She has a point.”

He turned to look at her in disbelief, “I thought you—”

“You both have points. Good points.”

“But which one is best — being screwed over now or later?”

Em shrugged, “depends.”

“On what?”

She sighed, taking a moment to articulate her thoughts, “I can’t answer that for you… you have to fill in the blanks yourself.”

Timothy could only nod. Such seemed to be the consensus. If only the waters weren’t so murky.

“What did y’all find?” Em finally asked.

“Venable has been making her own rules,” Timothy noted, “… abstinence and all that.”

“And that’s what Langdon’s focused on?”

“He has a laptop,” Timothy explained, “There were lots of emails between himself and the Cooperative. Emily thinks he has a satellite hook-up or something.”

“What kind of emails?”

Timothy shrugged, “general updates. Last outpost had extremely depleted resources, surrogate tests were failing, status updates…”

“… and?” Em pressed, knowing there was more.

“He plans to execute Gallant and Venable,” Timothy said. His eyes flickered as if he were reading the email to her. “there are two promising candidates so far that he’s considering taking to the Sanctuary.”

Em let out a breath of relief. So, Langdon had been listening to her. She nodded for a moment, thoughts spinning.

“Go to Emily,” she said.

“What?”

“Apologize,” she says, rising from her seat and starting towards the door, “you have to work together to find out more.”

Timothy gaped for a second, pushing off the table as he watched her leave.

“What about you?” he finally spoke.

“I’m the distraction, remember?”

The boy could only stand there as the door closed behind her; brows furrowed. God, why did she always have to be so… cryptic? Scratching at the back of his head, Timothy paced back and forth for a moment.

The creaking of the door caught his attention once more. Freezing mid-step, he rose his gaze to stare at the new arrival. Emily was peeking her head in, looking for any sign of Em before walking back inside.

“What did she say?”

Timothy let his hand drop to her side, “That we need to work together.”

“Did you tell her about the emails?”

“Yeah.”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing,” Timothy replied, “but she’s always examined our findings before saying a word… even to us.”

Emily sighed, reaching out for his hands which he carefully placed in her own. She stared at them as her fingers smoothed over his knuckles and traced circles on the back of his hands.

“She’s hiding something,” she said, biting her lips and eyes welling with concern, “Langdon must have done something to her.”

“Or maybe she didn’t find anything,” Timothy reminded, “She’s honest to a fault… a really, really big fault.”

A small smile graced Emily’s lips. It was quickly gone, replaced by an expression of determination. Finally, she looked up at him.

“We need to investigate on our own.”

Timothy opened his mouth, but she quickly cut him off, “without Em. He can’t silence all of us.”

***

“Who deserves a shot at salvation?” Langdon’s questioned, voice booming across the room as he strode to his desk with a bounce in his step. Venable stood by the fire, back straight and lips pressed into a thin line. The woman was like a statue. Then again, the Greys had come to call her the ‘iron woman’ for a reason. Even iron rusted.

He eyed his files, hands hovering over the names of Purples. He knew exactly how Venable viewed them, the rage she felt at their presence.

“Let’s start with… Coco St. Pierre Vanderbuilt.”

Settling in his chair, Langdon placed a hand on either side of the desk, keeping his posture open. Body language was a key part of communication. It was processed so subconsciously one didn’t know they were telling a story with their whole bodies. He needed Venable to feel like she was in charge. Give her the power and then yank it out from under her feet.

Venable scoffed before her eyes narrowed on him, “The Vanderbuilt girl is a vacuous abomination of inbreeding. She’d be my last choice to propagate the human race.”

Langdon simply stared at her and she continued on with her rambling. Each insult pulling her spine straighter and straighter, giving her a pathetic illusion of power.

“The hairdresser is a cowardly homosexual. His grandmother is a festering pustule who just will… not… die.” She ranted, eyes alighting with a fire of superiority and a satisfied smirk crawling onto her face. Recognizing her own hubris, she pulled back and tapped her cane quietly. “And the talk show host…”

The woman balked at that one, glancing at her feet as she searched for something to say.

“Well, actually,” she admitted, “I don’t know that much about that one.”

“And Emily?”

When he looked upon Wilhemina Venable he did not see a leader. He didn’t even see a person. All he could see was the woman who had tried to hit Em, the fear in her eyes when the brunette refused to cower. Langdon had no pity for those who abuse their power.

“I’m surprised we haven’t run out of oxygen with all her preaching,” Venable scoffed, “She’s an ungrateful brat that’s never satisfied. A mangy mutt that thinks she’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Langdon showed no reaction to her words. His face was an iron mask that, unlike Venable, he knew how to regulate.

“Mutts can still bite.”

The woman chuckled, clearly amused, “all she knows how to do is bark. She lacks the backbone needed to carry out anything of substance.”

Langdon offered a mocking smile that Venable quickly mistook for validation. Her eyes glimmered with the satisfaction of a queen on her throne.

“At this rate, you and I will have the Sanctuary all to ourselves.” He noted. The woman made no move to react or acknowledge his statement.

“Come,” he sighed, rising from his desk once more and rounding it to stand at her side, “There’s no need for us to be adversaries, Ms. Venable.”

The woman seemed to consider his proposition, chin rising ever slightly to look into his eyes. They were so blue it was easy to see why many residents were mesmerized by them. There was an… attraction to the man, a magnetic quality. Perhaps a man she could tolerate. A man Venable could use to get out of this hell hole to rise to a position more suitable to her skills.

Langdon allowed her to stare for a long moment. He stood close to the woman, but not close enough. She would have to make the move… at which point he would land the final blow.

“Take off your dress,” he ordered, tone and words off enough to make Venable falter. Her eyes widened in surprise as she processed his request, but made no move to put distance between herself and Langdon.

“I will not,” she gaped, incredulous and chuckling as if he were telling her a horrible joke.

Langdon’s face remained as it was.

“Part of your cooperation includes a physical examination,” he reminded.

Venable, like Em, knew exactly what a physical examination required. She kept her eyes on the man, refusing to give him any more ground than he had already conquered. “You can read my file.”

The blond’s head quirked to the side as he assessed the woman before him, “Your file won’t show me what I need to see… your shame.”

Venable’s confident smirk disappeared and his own quickly formed. It was as if he was sucking the power from her and fueling himself. Slowly, he began to circle with his hands behind his back, a vulture around a wounded and slowly dying animal.

“I want to see that part of you that humiliates you the most.”

His hand trailed up her arm and over her shoulder where it came to rest by her neck, touch light as a feather. Her hand sank into his like a claw before it could reach the zipper just a breath away from his fingers. He placed another hand on her other shoulder, caging her in place and leaning in so his breath fanned her ear.

“You won’t get a second chance.”

Venable’s breath made her chest rise and fall, panic rising from her belly and into her chest. She stared at the ground, weighing her options before she finally retracted her claws.

Langdon’s hand trailed to her back, slowly pulling down the zipper of her dress to reveal a twisted spine, the flesh around it a deep bruised purple.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, hands trailing down her spine.

Venable spoke with all the conviction she could muster. She focused her eyes on the wall and willed her tears to return back into her eyes, “no.”

She felt his face come closer to her cheek, voiced hushed as he spoke, “Does it bring you great pain.”

It took Venable a moment to gather the breath to even formulate a response, shoulders shuttering. A single tear fell down her cheek, the shame too much to bear.”

“Yes.”

Slowly, she turned her head towards him. His nose was almost close enough to brush her own and she tilted her head as if she hoped he’d kiss her.

“Is this part of my test?” the red-haired woman asked, eyes staring into his with a vulnerability she hadn’t show in years.

He shook his head, moving slightly towards her, “isn’t everything?”

“So then,” she said, eyes flickering to his lips, “Do I pass?”

Langdon leaned forward, her eyes closing in expectation as his nose brushed her own. His breath and the expectation of his lips made her heart hammer in her chest.

Then it was gone, a wicked smile forming before her eyes on the man. She felt the humiliation before he had even said a word. More tears trailed down her cheeks.

Revenge certainly was sweet.

“No.”

***

Em sat in the salon, Coco on the couch opposite her. The blond was posed, resting her elbow atop the back of the chair and her head upon her dangling hand. It was an Instagram-worthy pose. One Em was supposed to be capturing… instead, she was drawing Langdon from memory. She was merely using Coco as a reference to draw the couch he was leaned back on, legs crossed and eyes on his file.

“Are you almost done?” Coco snipped, “my elbow is cramping.

To her credit, she had drawn Coco. She just hadn’t told the woman she had finished.

“Do you want it done right?” Em asked. There was no hard in torturing the woman just a little longer. For once the salon was quiet. Coco was deep in thought about something, a rare occurence.

“My family was supposed to be here,” Coco said, breaking the brief respite with her quiet words, “My dad purchased the tickets.

Em glanced up at her before her eyes returned to her drawing. She was unsure of what Coco wanted from her. “So you've said.”

Green eyes flickered back to the blonde as she shifted uncomfortably. Halting in her ministrations, Em watched her for a moment. It was like a sudden ripple in the water, something either falling below or coming towards the surface.

Coco’s eyes flickered to the fire. She remembered being a tiny tot having lavish bonfires with her family in flannel shirts that cost more than a small New York apartment. Her little brother would be such a menace, chasing her around with dirt-covered hands or a worm dangling off a stick. She’d scream but always found herself laughing when he’d toss it at her. He always had the worst aim. Their father had to bribe the high-school baseball team into letting the boy play.

The woman turned in her seat, Em closing her sketchbook to give Coco her attention. The blonde sunk in her seat. Her lips twisted and eyes focusing on the empty spot in front of her, furrowed brows darkening her expression.

Finally, she looked to Em, scooting towards her and crossing her legs on the couch. “You’re one of those… smart people, right? Do you think they suffered?”

“I—” Em was blindsided by the question, mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish.

Coco was quick to press the subject, “They were in Hong Kong — right by the first blast.”

The woman’s eyes were so desperate Em couldn’t even formulate a thought. What was she supposed to say? What was the truth? Was it better to tell her a lie or the harsh reality?

“Coco, I—”

“Did they?”

Jaw tensing, Em took in her eyes welling with unshed tears and her hands which tightly gripped at her arm. This wasn’t something the woman wanted, but something she needed. They were all facing death and with it their own guilt and regrets.

“They would have been… incinerated in a matter of seconds,” she found herself saying. Em's voice was slow and even in an attempt to keep it from trembling. Her hands reached to squeeze Coco’s as if her touch was a soothing balm to the wounds they were reopening. “If they did feel any pain it would have been like a paper cut— sharp and then… nothing.”

Coco nodded, chest rising and falling as she tried to keep panic from rising. Trembling lips formed an uneven smile as she looked up at Em. The action shocked the brunette. It was a part of Coco she had never seen, a part of Coco she empathized with.

“Thank you,” Coco whispered, squeezing the other woman’s hands. Em was too shocked to move. She was still processing the situation, her own words and the meaning behind them, the weight they held.

Coco fanned at her eyes, tilting her head back.

“Oh,” she whined, “I can’t cry… I only brought enough eyeliner to last me a year. Mallory!”

She was gone before Em could even realize. The brunette’s brows were furrowed as she stared at the floor, confused and… sad — so, so sad. The kind of sadness that hit you like a punch to the gut, strong enough to make you double over.

Her own breath became labored as the voices once again welled in her head. They screamed and begged for life, just one more moment to apologize for their wrongs… to make right arguments that turned into their last words. A million hands gripped on to her, dragging her into the black and gaping void. She could feel their fingers digging into her skin, bruises rising to the surface.

Em jumped as a hand touched her shoulder, squeezing it and pulling her out of the river Styx. She wiped her face of tears and turned to the man she hadn’t even heard approaching.

Langdon was blatantly concerned, kneeling beside her and holding her hands. It centered her somewhat, kept her from drowning.

“Why do you cry?” He asked, voice quiet and gentle.

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a shake of her head. Suddenly, she stood, Langdon mirroring her actions. Green eyes looked everywhere but at him and her hands slipped from his grip. “Excuse me.”

His hand shot out; grip strong enough to stop her from turning away. It loosened, and he let his hand drop to his side as he willed her to look at him.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yet I feel guilty all the same.”

Langdon shook his head and took a step towards her, hand hovering over her back as his body curled around her front. “You couldn’t have saved them.”

Em’s hands curled into fists at her side. She remembered her brother, her nieces, her nephews — all too young to die. Taking a step away from him, she finally spoke. “I could have made sure they didn’t die alone.”

Langdon loosened his grip, allowed her to walk away. His eyes didn’t leave her as she left the room, palms swiping at her cheeks as she made her way down the hall.

That was the difference between them — Venable and Em. The former played at caring but used it as a weapon. The red-haired woman was a Puritan preacher, rising the heat on who she perceived as sinners. She didn’t really care about what she preached. It only served to keep those around her in line.

Em, however… Em cared. She cared even when she didn’t want to, when she wanted to be annoyed. Satan did not hate the humans just because they were mortal, flawed. Lucifer was once an angel, after all. An angel dedicated to justice against the sinners.

***

The salon was a place none of them could stay away from for long. It was like the living room of your house, a place you always wandered to when you didn’t know what to do.

Em didn’t like looking weak. She had already cried in front of Langdon more times than she had cried in front of her own mother. Perhaps it meant she was comfortable with him. The thought of anyone seeing her with snot running out of her nose and eyes puffy and red was still humiliating.

Much to her surprise, Gallant was in the salon. His eyes were dead as he stared into the distance, his usual shades missing to reveal the face of a man who had lost everything.

She had heard about what happened, the torture brought to him by his own grandmother’s hands. Coco wasn’t exactly good at keeping things quiet.

“I don’t want to talk,” Gallant grumbled, sensing her presence.

“I didn’t come to talk.”

Gallant turned to look at her over the back of the couch. He had expected Coco. Somehow this was even worse. The hairdresser wanted to hate her, but he knew it was Langdon he was really angry at.

“Here to gloat?” he asked, slumping back into his seat and picking up a glass which had fallen to the side. He picked it up, closed one eye to stare at the bottom, and then downed the rest of the water.

“You aren’t the best man in the world, but you certainly aren’t the worst,” Em said as she took a seat opposite him. She left a cushion length between him and herself. “But there’s no sin in that.”

Gallant glowered at her and scoffed, “great pep-talk. You and Dinah should be co-hosts.”

Em watched as he stared at his glass once more and frowned, letting his hand drop to his side once more. Gallant may be pouting like a child, but it wasn’t without reason.

“Do you want some water?” she asked and he numbly nodded his head. She rose from her seat and brought over the pitcher, sitting closer to him to take the glass from his hands. The man was nearly catatonic like a sad drunk. With a sigh, she placed the pitcher on the coffee table and the glass back in his hands.

“You’re not disgusting Gallant,” She assured, squeezing his hands around the glass, “a bit arrogant, perhaps, but not disgusting.”

After a moment she pulled away. “And it’s okay to mourn what could have been.”

The man stayed silent, sparing a few fleeting glances in her direction. He reminded her of a lost puppy. A petulant one — the kind that would tear up your shoes and your house until you came home. Somehow, they were endearing despite the annoyance they brought.

Gallant sat still for a moment before leaning on her shoulder. Tears began to flow freely from his eyes and he curled into her like a lost child. Slowly, her arms curled around him and she held him to her chest.

“Welcome to the shitty family club,” She jested once he had finally calmed himself down. The man shook his head and chuckled through tears, using the corner of his dress shirt to clear away his tears and snot.

“You tell anyone and I’ll kill you,” he said, a smile forming on Em despite her previous feelings towards the man. She half expected him to run off as Coco had, use her for the therapy and then go back to his day.

“Twenty questions?” he asked, grabbing the pitcher and pouring himself and Em a glass. He held it out expectantly and she slowly took it from his hands.

“With no drinks?”

“Don’t remind me.”

#michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon

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fire-emblem-heroes-supports · 4 years

Text

Summoner/Laegjarn C-S Support

Written by @ajanisapprentice

C SUPPORT

[(y/n) is walking down a hallway muttering, not noticing Laegjarn approaching.]

(y/n): …we should keep the patrols of Heroes active, though we likely don’t need to have quite as many, considering our temporary ceasefire with Embla. Still, I can’t help but wonder… Perhaps I should see if Anna could-

Laegjarn: Summoner.

(y/n): Wha- Laegjarn, you startled me.

Laegjarn: My apologies, that was not my intention.

(y/n): It’s fine. Admittedly I was rather distracted and not paying much attention.

Laegjarn: I see. You ought to be more aware of your surroundings, Summoner. Someone could take advantage of your preoccupied state.

(y/n): I doubt that. Even the more… reprehensible ‘heroes’ wouldn’t dare do anything that might endanger them here, not with the overwhelming amount of heroes who would take action in response.

Laegjarn: Right. That does make sense.

(y/n): …Dare I ask why you’d assume I’d be in danger in the halls of my own workplace and home?

[Laegjarn’s face takes on a slightly pained look.]

Laegjarn: In Muspel, during my father’s rule, any sign of weakness would be immediately taken advantage of, anywhere by anyone. With the constant struggle to be stronger than your competition, the battleground was everywhere and at all times. I… am still used to that type of world.

(y/n): …I see.

Laegjarn: Pay it no mind, I will move on from this paranoia in time. I did wish to ask you something though.

(y/n): Oh?

Laegjarn: I wanted to ask for your tutelage.

(y/n): I’m sorry, you want what?

Laegjarn: In Muspel, one must show strength or be consumed by the flames of other’s ambitions for power. While I was never the greatest soldier, I was Muspel’s greatest tactician. It was how I got by. Was what made me useful and kept me alive.

Laegjarn: But then we fought, my forces versus yours, and you defeated me. Your army routed mine. Your tactics were superior. So I wish to learn from you. To understand how your mind works. To understand what made you the superior tactician.

(y/n): …

Laegjarn: I can understand that you may be uncomfortable, considering how we were enemies until recently, and can understand if you wish to refuse-

(y/n): No, it’s not that. I’d be happy to teach you.

Laegjarn: !

(y/n): No, I’m merely trying to figure out when would be a good time that we could meet consistently. I know I’ll have a few hours free in a couple of days, in the afternoon. Would meeting in my office then be alright? We can work out a more consistent schedule for the future then.

Laegjarn: Yes, that would be fine.

(y/n): Alright. I’ll see you then.

[Laegjarn and (y/n) have reached support rank C.]

B SUPPORT

[Laegjarn enters the Summoner’s office.]

(y/n): Laegjarn, right on time.

Laegjarn: Indeed. Though I have to admit, I am a bit confused.

(y/n): Oh? Over what?

Laegjarn: I’ve been enjoying our games of strategy Summoner, but I’m not quite sure what you are trying to accomplish with these games. Particularly as many of them don’t seem to directly pertain to war. Like that one with the beads for example.

(y/n): You mean Mancala?

Laegjarn: Yes, that one. I’m still not sure what that really has to do with war itself, or how this is supposed to help me better understand you. Or where you’re getting all these games from. I’ve never even heard of most of them

(y/n): Generally I get them through Anna. One of the benefits of having a co-worker who comes from a family of merchants that spans literal worlds.

Laegjarn: I’ll… take your word for it.

(y/n): Anyway, your original question is a fair one. I can certainly understand that it seems a bit odd, playing children’s games in addition to the wargames, seemingly without any connection to actual battle and strategy. Not to mention how it doesn’t seem to help you understand me better. However, I can assure you, they serve a purpose. Through these games, we can each get a better sense of who the other is.

Laegjarn: I’m not sure I understand.

(y/n): Hmm. How about this? The game I was going to have us use today is another from my home world. It is called Stratego and is relatively simple. As you set up your side, I would like you to record on a sheet of paper the position you put each piece in, as neither of us gets to see the position of the other’s side of the board. When we are done with several rounds I will explain in more detail what I meant. Does this sound alright?

Laegjarn: It does, though I don’t really see the point.

[Laegjarn is taught by (y/n) the rules and the two proceed to have several matches. After the final one, the two begin to clean up the board.]

(y/n): So, your thoughts?

Laegjarn: This game certainly is entertaining, and it seems to have more relevance than some of the other games you’ve had us play but I’m not sure I understand what you meant from before.

(y/n): Then I will do my best to explain.

(y/n): The first thing you have to understand, Laegjarn, is that in my world board games are used not just for entertainment or to simulate battles, but for psychological study. Very few games exist that do not have some aspect of strategy to them. Due to this, one is able to gain an understanding of their opponent through watching what they do, what actions they take and so on.

Laegjarn: Understandable, but that isn’t really anything special. It’s something taught to a student of any skill that involves two opposing forces. Learn how your enemy thinks by observing their motions. Put yourself in their shoes and make a counterplan based on that.

(y/n): Indeed. However, there is additional information you can learn from your opponent. Information that your opponent may not realize they could be revealing or even information they may not know about themselves.

(y/n): For example, let’s take a look at the strategy you used when setting up your pieces in all of the games we played today. You always placed your flag close to a corner of the map, blocking off as many possible points to get to it, and you always placed all your mines concentrated around that position. Not only that but you kept your most powerful pieces there as well, even though that meant that for most of the game you couldn’t move them forward as they were blocked by your own pieces ahead of them. Even when you could move them you never really did so until there were no other options. Compare that to other common strategies such as keeping the mines scattered to make all areas of one’s side of the board dangerous to traverse, or using one’s more powerful pieces in the front to help clear out as much of the opponent’s forces as quickly as possible.

Laegjarn: And what does this tell you?

(y/n): It tells me that when something matters to you, you feel the need to protect it as best as you can, putting its safety above all else even at the cost of resources, time and convenience. Of course, this isn’t really news to me. I have seen your interactions with your sister, Laevetein, and have seen how you always go above and beyond putting her needs before your own. However, I doubt that you consciously realized the impact that such a mindset would have in all facets of your life.

Laegjarn: I… You’re right. I wasn’t consciously thinking about it but now that you mention it, I could feel a need to protect guiding my placements.

(y/n): And of course, your playstyles in all the other games we’ve had tell a story of you as well. In Chess you would be on the defensive for the first few matches, but once you picked up my strategies you would always go for swift victories, often ignoring taking my pieces in favor of being as direct in putting my king into check-mate as possible. In one instance you flat out ignored it when I left my queen completely vulnerable for several turns, instead choosing to focus only on setting up my king for check-mate.

(y/n): This all tells me that you do not like long drawn out conflicts. You want to end things quickly at the source, without getting bystanders involved. Once again something I had already known, this time from our time as opposing generals, but the fact that I could pick such things up merely from a game is telling.

Laegjarn: I see now. You’re learning things about me that paint a picture without biases by my own subconscious actions and thoughts.

(y/n): Exactly. I am learning your story through our games. And similarly, you can and should be learning mine which should help you in your goal to try and understand how my mind works.

Laegjarn: I see. Well then, I thank you Summoner. From now on, I will be paying much closer attention to your own actions and choices, both conscious and otherwise.

[(y/n) smiles widely at this.]

(y/n): I’m glad to hear that.

Laegjarn: That being said… I must ask you something. In the future, perhaps we could spend some time merely talking?

(y/n): Oh?

Laegjarn: It is true that you can learn a lot about a person from the way they express themselves in different activities. But there are things you can only learn about one another through dialogue. And other things that matter more when they are told to you as opposed to being figured out. And… I would like to learn more about you, Summoner. Not just about you as a tactician or as one of the leaders of the Order of Heroes, but of you as an individual.

(y/n): … I can’t say I disagree with either of those points, and being completely honest, I would like to learn more about you too Laegjarn. So yes, I’d be happy to spend some time just talking. On one condition that is.

[Laegjarn looks surprised at this, but also intrigued.]

Laegjarn: Oh? And this condition?

(y/n): You stop calling me by my title and call me by name. If we are to actually talk, actually speak, then I would do so as friends, not merely as allies or fellow soldiers.

[Laegjarn first looks a little shocked, before her features slowly morph into a genuine smile.]

Laegjarn: Very well. That is a condition I would be happy to accept… (y/n).

[Laegjarn and (y/n) have reached support rank B.]

A SUPPORT

[Laegjarn and (y/n) are in (y/n)’s private quarters. The two are having tea, and Laegjarn isn’t wearing her armor, though Níu is still strapped to her waist.]

Laegjarn: The more I hear about your world, (y/n), the more fascinated I become. Lights without fire, electricity harnessed for power, a storage system able to store information from all the world’s libraries in a single room and all this without magic. It’s honestly magical. And yes, I understand the irony in that statement.

(y/n): I’m glad I don’t have to be the one to point that out.

(y/n): Still, I can see just how interested you are in my home. Perhaps, when everything is said and done here in Askr and the Order of Heroes no longer needs us, I could take you, and Laevetein should she wish, to visit my world.

[Laegjarn looks at (y/n) with a look of shock.]

Laegjarn: You… you truly mean that?

(y/n): Of course. I will admit it might be… slightly awkward at first, but ultimately I think you’d truly enjoy it after getting past the initial shock at the differences between my world and the different worlds the Order has been to.

[Laegjarn’s face goes from a look of shock to one of joy, but very quickly it is replaced with a look of unease and sadness.]

Laegjarn: (y/n), I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can go on such a trip.

(y/n): I- Laegjarn, I don’t understand. Just a moment ago you looked so excited! Why the sudden change? Why can’t you go?

Laegjarn: … (y/n), you remember our final confrontation in Muspel, correct?

[(y/n)’s face grows serious and they look down at the floor, silent for a moment before looking back up at Laegjarn.]

(y/n): Yes, I do. You invoked the Rite of Flames.

Laegjarn: Yes, I did. And it killed me. My body was burnt away, my blood boiled to steam. Even now there are moments where I feel the lingering pain, like embers which refuse to truly be put out. However, here I am before you. Alive, fully functional and none the worse for the wear, as if it never occurred. And I am not the only one to be like this.

Laegjarn: (y/n), do you know how and why this is, that myself and others who should be dead can be here alive and well?

(y/n): No, honestly I don’t, not really. A while ago I asked Anna who said that she too wasn’t sure why or how this happens either. Her best guess is simply that it’s either magic from the Breidablik, contracts the kingdom of Askr, or some combination are what is able to summon heroes here even from beyond the grave and keep them alive.

Laegjarn: You are not the only one to have asked the commander, (y/n). I have as well. But in addition to the question I posed to you, I also asked her something else. I asked her what would happen when we are inevitably sent back to our homes.

Laegjarn: The Commander didn’t sugarcoat it. She said that while she doesn’t for sure know, her best guess from both information gathered from her sister Anna’s, as well as her self-admitted bare-bones hypothesis, suggests that when we are returned, the magic keeping us alive will cease activity. Myself and those like me will return to our graves.

[(y/n) looks back up at Laegjarn, shock and pain evident in their eyes.]

(y/n): I… that can’t be…

Laegjarn: (y/n), I’m sorry. I wish this wasn’t the case, but this is the reality. I’m already dead, and there’s only so long borrowed time lasts. But even knowing all of this… I’m at peace.

[Laegjarn suddenly takes (y/n)’s hands in her own.]

(y/n): Laegjarn, what-

Laegjarn: In Muspel, life was a constant hell. In all the pain and sorrow my only solace was Laevatein. But since coming here, since being welcomed here,I have had nothing but happiness. I have met so many wonderful kind people. People that, even knowing who I am and where I’m from, even having fought me before, are willing to accept me and to truly be kind. People who I don’t need to be on guard around, people who truly care and wish to become close. I don’t only have my sister anymore. I have so many more. And it is all thanks to you.

Laegjarn: (y/n), out of everyone here you’ve been the kindest. You’ve trusted me, helped me grow. And were it not for you, I never would have been brought here in the first place and been able to have this second chance to live a better life, short though it may be. Yes, if I could have a true second chance, a full life, I would take it in a heartbeat. But even with only this, I am at peace. Because being able to see my sister again and know she’s alright, being given this chance to experience true joy…

[Laegjarn suddenly leans in and gives a quick soft kiss to (y/n)’s cheek. She then stands, her face blushing madly.]

Laegjarn: …This is everything I ever wanted, and far more than I could have ever asked for.

[Laegjarn then quickly leaves the room, leaving behind (y/n) who holds a hand to the spot Laegjarn had just kissed.]

(y/n): …Laegjarn.

[Laegjarn and (y/n) have reached support rank A.]

S SUPPORT

[Laegjarn is standing right outside of (y/n)’s quarters. She’s not wearing her armor and doesn’t even have Níu with her. After a moment of silent hesitation, Laegjarn knocks on the door.]

Laegjarn: (y/n), it’s Laegjarn, can I-

[As Laegjarn knocks, the door opens, having not been fully closed. Inside the room is a mess: books and papers are lying about all over, inkwells and quills are scattered around, and (y/n), having been sleeping face-planted on their desk, jerks awake suddenly.]

(y/n): Wha-Who’s- Wait, Laegjarn?

Laegjarn: I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were sleeping!

(y/n): It- It’s fine, honestly. I hadn’t even meant to fall asleep. Please, take a seat on the bed. I think it’s the one place that is devoid of anything at the moment.

[Laegjarn hesitates for a moment before walking in slowly, careful not to step on anything. As she sits on the bed, she fidgets nervously.]

Laegjarn: You… certainly seemed to have been busy. I came by to check on you as apparently no one besides Commander Anna and Prince Alfonse have seen you recently.

(y/n): Yes. I’ve been… preoccupied as you can see.

Laegjarn: Right.

[For a moment the two are silent before they both open their mouths to speak.]

(y/n): Sorry. Laegjarn, please go first.

Laegjarn: I… right.

Laegjarn: (y/n), I wanted to apologize for the other day. I… I was emotionally compromised. I didn’t think about how I was crossing a boundary and I am ashamed-

(y/n): Do you regret it?

Laegjarn: What?

(y/n): Do you regret it? I understand that you regret doing so without having asked or having been sure it was okay, but do you regret the actual act itself?

Laegjarn: …No, I don’t. I don’t think I could.

(y/n): You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.

Laegjarn: What?

(y/n): Laegjarn, I love you.

Laegjarn: I… I don’t… I can’t… To truly believe my feelings are returned, I can’t possibly believe…

(y/n): Laegjarn, please look around you. What do you see?

Laegjarn: I don’t… Wait. All these papers… they’re all researching the magic that summons Heroes here. Wait… are you…

(y/n): Yes. I’m doing everything I can to find a way to make sure you can stay, to make sure you are safe. To make sure you get to have a true second chance at life.

Laegjarn: But why?

(y/n): Laegjarn, you are a wonderful person. Far more so than you seem to allow yourself to believe. I have seen so many terrible things. I have seen so many who have been mistreated, so many who have been hurt. So many of the Heroes here come from places of pain and sorrow. And even back in my world, there is so much pain. I have seen abuse, I have seen mistreatment, and I have seen what it can do, what it so often does, to people. How it hurts them, how it scars them. And how so many sadly can’t find the strength within themselves to move on, move forward. How so many end up falling into the same dark places their abusers were in. How so many who are hurt end up hurting others, lashing out at everyone around them. Feeling like because they suffered, everyone else must as well.

(y/n): But you Laegjarn, you’re a survivor. The strongest type of survivor. You suffered so much, not only for yourself but for your sister as well. And you made it to the other side. You made it past the abuse and cruelty of your father and you didn’t let it destroy you, didn’t let it turn you into someone like him. You shielded your sister, but never held it against her. You were hurt but refused to hurt others. You stood up and refused to let this cycle of hate and cruelty continue.

[(y/n) walks over and sits besides Laegjarn, taking her hands in their own as they do so.]

(y/n): Laegjarn, I adore you. I love you.

[Laegjarn is silent for a moment but she quickly begins to sob, a smile on her face as her tears fall.]

Laegjarn: This warmth… I’ve never felt something so strong and so comforting. (y/n), you have already done so much. To know that you love me back… I have never felt happier in my life.

[Laegjarn pulls (y/n) in close and the two kiss for a moment. When the two separate, the two stare into each other’s eyes as they press their foreheads together..]

(y/n): Laegjarn I swear that I will make sure you have a true second chance at life. A second chance to live a life you want to live. One that will bring you joy. Please, promise that you will use this chance. That you will live a life that makes you happy.

Laegjarn: I swear I will, and I swear I will do so by your side for that is where I will be happiest. By the side of the one I love. By the side of the one who loves me back.

[Laegjarn and (y/n) have reached support rank S.]

Confession Quote:

Laegjarn: “You have given me your heart, just as I have given you mine. I shall cherish it as my most precious gift for all time, and I know you will do the same. This bond, this love. This is a true eternal flame, one that cannot and never will be extinguished.”

#fire emblem heroes #female heroes #male and female heroes #laegjarn #summoner x laegjarn #kiran x laegjarn #kiran #summoner #submission

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khhunniewriting · 5 years

Text

Synchronicity

You nonchalantly bopped your head side to side as you sipped your Midori sour through the small thin straw it came with. It was the only drink you found worth drinking at these types of places. By these types of places, you meant clubs. They were fun for most. you, however, had a problem with being bumped into every second and getting whiplash from constantly looking over your shoulders to see who had “accidentally” grabbed your ass. It was hard to single out any one offense so you begrudgingly let it go.

“Come one Y/N,” your friend begged you. “I want to be closer to the action.” They all liked to drink and dance with no caution whatsoever because they had you to rely on. They knew you never got drunk, you were always strict and proper but you also knew how to have fun.

“Yeah come on Y/N.” Another one of your friends held your free hand in an attempt to pull you in but you resisted staying at the edge of the dancefloor. It was close to the bar, close to the exit, and to the table you had told your friends to regroup at if they ever got lost. You were definitely the mom of the group at this point despite being the only one that didn’t have a kid or a man.

The whole situation had made you sip unconsciously until the sweet-sour liquid stopped running through your straw. “You four go ahead, I’m going for another drink and coming back to this spot.” You took a few more sips causing a bit of a slurping sound when all you got was air and a few drops of water from the ice that was melting in your glass.

With little reservation, your friends disappeared into the sea of people. You went to the bar like you had said. It was full of people trying to get their drinks. There was no order, no line to wait in. It was all about getting through to the front and getting the bartender’s attention first. This was the only time you willingly got close to these strangers.

As you waited for an opening to wiggle through, you felt the need to look around. It was strange, that feeling of being watched. You were in a building full of people. There could be several people unintentionally looking your way yet you felt it. That feeling like you were being watched.

That feeling left when your attention was on the gap between two people at the bar. You quickly sucked in your stomach and passed by a few people to beat them and order your drink.

When you got your drink you retreated to the meeting spot. The small table had a few high chairs you struggled to sit on. You were almost sure that if anyone was watching you they saw when your dress rode up to the point where they could see your upper thigh. Immediately upon settling in your seat, you pulled down on the hem of your dress to cover up.

Moments later one of your friends came to you looking exhausted. “Oh my god Y/N, I just saw the hottest man ever! I think he’s famous or something. Girls kept saying his name but I didn’t know who he was. Why can’t I be single?”

“Because you chose to get married and have two kids.” She met your response with a sigh. After another jab at her married life, you got the picture that she was going through some quarter-life crisis. “You’re really making me thankful for my single life.”

“We should get you a man-”

“You want to bring me down with the ship too?”

She laughed, “I complain but it’s not all bad.” It was unclear to her why you were single. In her unbiased opinion, you were quite the catch. Your sense of humor was a bit dark but it went with your edginess. There was also the sweet, kind side of you that took care of everyone around you- the mom side. In her biased opinion, you were her friend so you were the bomb.com. “Want to go see the guy I was talking about?”

“No thanks-” you picked up your drink to finish off its contents. “I would much rather go home now.”

“Look you can see him from here!” She pointed straight at him.

The direction she was pointing too was the private reserved booths. “You said he was famous?”

“I think so, the girls kept gushing over him like he was some kind of celebrity. There were a few guys too.”

That would explain why he was surrounded by women who were feeling him up. He was just chilling, drink in one hand- cigarette in the other. The women were doing all the work to get his attention. They sat beside him, in front of him, behind, and he even grabbed one and sat her on him. Someone who could casually be with so man women at once wasn’t what you were looking for. “I’ll admit he’s easy on the eyes but I can’t be with someone like that.”

“What do you mean?” She looked back and forth between you two as if imagining you side by side. “He’s perfect for you!” Her comment was a bit loud even if the music was louder. It didn’t help that she kept pointing in his general direction.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to point at people?” you reprimanded as you lowered her hand.

“Sorry Mom~” she rolled her eyes.

Your eyes went back to the supposed famous guy but you quickly looked away choking on your drink.

“What the-” your friend gave a few pats on the back. “Are you okay?”

“He’s looking...”

She didn’t try to hide the fact that she was checking on him. “He really is!”

Your eyes widened when she kept talking to you and looking back at him, making it obvious you two were talking about him. “You really need to shut the fuck up and stop staring at strangers!”

“OMG Y/N I know who he is now. That guy next to him is Nafla and the other one is Owen, there’s Loopy too so then that’s Bloo.”

“You have a really strange way of remembering things.” How did she manage to name everyone else before him?

“Sorry, the girls were in the way so I couldn’t really see him.”

“Anyway, he’s not my type,” you shrugged.

“Liar- you just want to go home.”

“Touche.”

\\\

“What are you looking at?” Nafla asked as he finally got Bloo’s attention. He followed his line of sight but didn’t see anything particularly eye-catching in the crowd of people.

For Bloo it was different. This was the third time he spotted the same person. He wasn’t looking for her but somehow he managed to always find her. This last time he stared a little too long which is why Nafla caught him. “Nothing I was just-” his neck stretched out as he tried looking for you once more.

He was sure he saw you looking his way but he lost sight when the girl fell on his lap.

“Looks like he lost whatever it was,” Owen chuckled. Bloo now looked like a sad puppy who had been abandoned by his owner. “Cheer up, there’s plenty more to see.”

Bloo couldn’t though. It was just like him to have so much in front of him yet want what was farthest from his reach. Without another word, he slumped back feeling like he missed an opportunity.

\\\

Weeks later you found yourself at another club with your friends. This one was louder, bigger, and worse! “I hate all of you!” You shouted at the top of your lungs yet your friends only snickered and laughed like a cackle of hyenas. This was your birthday, they were supposed to do something you liked- which would be anything but this. “I’m the third wheel for...” you pointed to each of your friends and their significant others as you counted, “four f*cking bicycles.”

“We know you love us.”

“And appreciate us.”

One of them pulled her credit card out of her bra to hand to you. “Come on all your drinks are on me.”

You eyed her from the corner of your eyes. The piece of plastic was very enticing, drinks were far more expensive at these popular clubs so you knew better than to turn her down. “Thank you for taking a hit,” you snatched the card wiping it on the sleeve of your dress. “Don’t want your boobie germs.”

“Just remember we have kids who depend on us to feed them,” her husband joked knowing you could drink your weight and more. Especially now that you didn’t have to worry about them.

“You’re kids better like cereal because that’s all they’ll be eating after tonight.” They laughed as they saw you practically skip towards the bar. “Midori sour, to start,” you cockily handed over the card as payment. “Keep the tab open, I’ll be coming back.”

Bloo chuckled when he heard your promise to return. When he looked over the smile that had accompanied the laughter fell. It was hard to describe how he felt about seeing you again. He watched you leave with your drink to the dance floor- never losing sight of you.

You rejoined some of your friends, drink in hand. They were dancing with their partners leaving you off to the side but nearby. You didn’t mind dancing alone even when you knew people were scratching their heads wondering how you fit in with the group.

“Looks like you could use a partner.”

You opened your eyes startled by the sudden presence beside you. It took moment for you to readjust to the bright strobing lights but you immediately found the source of the voice. “Holy sh*t- this is going to sound rude but what are you doing here?” You tried to sound casual about it but in fact, you were panicking at the thought of him remembering you from that one time. Although you were confident in the fact that he saw so many women he would surely forget half of them.

Bloo laughed, “If you know my name shouldn’t you give me yours?”

Your eyes widened at his forwardness. “Ah, you really are good at this.” It was easy to see how he managed to gather a crowd of fawning women when he used such smooth lines.

“Her name is Y/N,” one of your friends’ husband spoke up knowing very well who he was. He was hoping to get a picture with him later in exchange later.

You scowled at him for ruining your plans of brushing him off. “Fine, I guess I can dance this once with you.”

True to your word you danced till the end of the song keeping a safe distance from him so you wouldn’t give him the wrong idea. Yes, he was attractive but that didn’t mean you would bend to his will so easily just because he was a famous rapper.

When the dance was over Bloo found himself wanting to stay beside you a little longer. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“No thanks I’m all set,” you flashed the little piece of plastic that was your godsend.

God giveth and God taketh away.

Your friend snatched the card from your hand, “She would love a drink.” Now her children wouldn’t go hungry.

You sent them all a death glare, even the ones who had nothing to do with your nigh turning from a solo mission to a duo.

“Let me just tell you right now... there’s no way anything can happen between us.”

Bloo smirked, “We’ll see about that.” He had thought the same thing the day he saw you at the other club but now here he was leading you to the bar, his hand on your lower back breathing in the fruity-floral scent of your perfume.

He didn’t believe in fate but it was hard to ignore the fact that his eyes were drawn to you every time.

-end-

A/N: Synchronicity is a concept which holds that events are "meaningful coincidences" if they occur with no causal relationship yet seem to be meaningfully related. ( I know some of you will look it up ^^ )

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