#but he shields it with the whole scary bad boy image

[risetherivermoon]

barty absolutely loves children but he won't admit it, he wants to be a dad and a teacher so badly but he acts like he hates them cuz he think its "uncool"

#when he meets luna he absolutely loses it /pos #i feel like barty has his gentle moments #but he shields it with the whole scary bad boy image #marauders #marauders era #harry potter #hp #dead gay wizards #barty crouch jr #bartemius crouch junior #b <3

[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 310 Spoiler Thoughts: “The First and Second Holders”

Some fan translations are out and it’s time to flex some thoughts out again!  I couldn’t do them last night because I didn’t have all the scan images with me and I didn’t want to jump the gun with only text descriptions.  Anyway, this was mainly an exposition chapter that properly introduces us to the second and third OFA Holders, especially the 2nd and what his relationship to the 1st is.  This might not be as long as others “Spoiler Thoughts” I’ve written, but let’s see:

First off, we have a colored cover page by Horikoshi-sensei himself!  It’s a solo page featuring Vigilante Deku and he looks badass!  Deku looks ready to kick ass and take names.  And, his Mid-Gauntlet is colored red like a lot of us thought and it adds to the theory that Melissa Shield did create it like she did with Deku’s Full-Gauntlet back in Two Heroes.

The chapter starts in a dark and rainy night.  A large woman (she’s like maybe 10ft tall; she’s taller than All Might who I think is 7ft) with a mutant-type quirk who’s getting attacked by some civilians because they think she’s a villain.  Deku jumps in to stop the attacks and the woman explains that she was just trying to go to one of the evacuation centers at a hero school.  Deku is kind enough to give her her umbrella back and reassure her that things will be ok.  

I gotta say that this whole situation is scarily close to real life right now.  I don’t like getting too political, but we live in a scary world where discrimination is, unfortunately, alive and well...  If you are a POC, you can be attacked from anywhere with the only reason being that “you’re a danger because of the skin you were born with”. It’s horrific, it’s disgusting, and it’s been around for a long time.  Even in the BNHA universe, there used to be cults solely dedicated to discriminating against mutant-type people (we learned this back in the My Villain Academia Arc).  So, like in the real world, this problem has risen again.  Thankfully, there are people like Deku and All Might who are more than willing to help someone in need regardless of who they are.  BNHA hits too close to home sometimes.  

Anyway, going back to the BNHA story.  Before All Might leaves to help the woman in his Batmobile, he hands Deku some Pork Katsu in a cute bento box wrapped in a bunny cloth!  Deku is visibly happy and thanks All Might for the meal.  This is so cute!  I’m so glad to see that All Might is making sure that Deku is being properly taken care of.  Boy needs to eat if he’s going to save the world.  I’m also glad that Deku can still show signs of happiness despite, well, everything.  I swear, if All Might doesn’t legally adopt Deku as his son by the time this series is over, I’m going to jump into this manga and force him to sign those documents myself. 

The next panel shows Deku standing on what looks like Tokyo’s famous Sky Tree (or Sky Egg if we’re going off what Vigilantes showed us).  He’s back to talking to the OFA Holders like they’re angels on his shoulders.  Banjo talks about how it’s like the world’s reverted back in time when things were worse and Deku responds that if he doesn’t use all of OFA’s power, he’ll never be able to defeat Shigaraki and AFO.  I know we’re in the final act, so Deku’s gotta get to 100% fast if he wants to win this war.  Last we checked, he was at 45%, but he might be at a higher percentage now since he’s unlocked En’s Smokescreen.  Also, Deku’s looking more and more like Batman each chapter and I gotta say that it really suits him.

Back to the Vestige Dream back when Deku was still in a coma after the war.  The 1st Holder begs the 2nd and 3rd to corporate with him so that they can provide their power to Deku.  The 1st calls the 2nd and 3rd “My Heroes” which causes some awkward silence lol.  Neither one is responding, so Banjo breaks the silence by suggesting that Deku learn everyone’s Quirks so that he’ll get used to them once he starts using them.  We learn why the 2nd and 3rd are the 1st’s heroes soon, but it’s actually a good idea for Deku to learn about all these different Quirks while he’s sleeping so that he’ll get a good idea on how to execute them when he wakes up.  It’s kind of a way of training for Deku just without actually using the Quirks themselves.  

The 3rd Holder (the one with the spiky ponytail and headband) starts to talk.  He says that the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd came from the “Harshest era of history”.  It was a time where AFO ruled all and peaked in power and control.  He was going to take over the whole world if the first 3 Holders didn’t step in to stop him.  My guess is that after AFO was defeated for the first time, society started to calm down and become more or less the world we knew before the War Arc.  So, things weren’t as bad during the 4th Holder’s era and so forth.  This would explain why Shinomori was able to hide in the forest for so long without being detected.  

And now the big part of the chapter: the 2nd Holder.  Who does in fact look A LOT like Bakugo.  Big difference is that he has a massive scar across his face.  I am aware of the whole “time travel” theory that people have going on with Bakugo and this dude, but I’m not on that train.  Instead, I think that the 2nd Holder is one of Bakugo’s ancestors.  Like, a really, really-great-grandfather.  Horikoshi doesn’t just design his characters for no reason.  The fact that the 2nd user looks so much like Bakugo, has a costume similar to Bakugo’s, and that future panels in this chapter straight up parallel that iconic scene with young Bakugo and Deku in the river only add fuel to this fire.  Unless Horikoshi says otherwise, this is the theory I’m sticking to: this “Ancestor” theory.

And we know of the 1st user’s real name now too, which is Yoichi!  If Horikoshi is keeping up with the “numbers in names” theme, then I’m positive that Yochi has the kanji for “One” somewhere in it.  And, if we’re going to believe AFO at all, then that means that the 1st user’s full name is Yoichi Shigaraki.  We don’t know AFO’s full name yet.  But, again, AFO could be lying with his last name, so I’m taking this one with a grain of salt.

Back to the 2nd Holder, he tells Yoichi that a lot of lives were sacrificed in order to stop AFO back then.  He believes that there is only victory or defeat in battle; that there’s no hope of saving their archenemy.  He has doubt about putting his faith in Deku because of this.  Given how the 3rd Holder still has his back turned too, I’m lead to believe that he also thinks Deku is crazy for wanting to save Shigaraki.  I don’t exactly blame them.  Really, none of us know if Deku will be successful in saving Shigaraki.  He might have to kill him in the end.  I think they should offer Deku help, but I don’t blame them for being at least a little skeptical.  

But, Yoichi reminds the 2nd and 3rd users that they saved Yoichi back when AFO locked him up to die.  They found Yoichi with the intention to kill him it seems, but the 2nd Holder showed sympathy for Yoichi and lent him a helping hand despite Yoichi being AFO’s little brother.  This is the parallel panel I was talking about.  Yoichi is kneeling down on the floor and the 2nd user is standing up extending his hand to help Yoichi.  I don’t even need to look back in the manga to know what inspired this.  Hell, I don’t even need to tell you!  We all know what Horikoshi was doing when he drew and wrote this.

Yoichi convinces him that he should believe in Deku as Yoichi does think Deku will save the day.  If the 2nd user didn’t extend his hand to help Yoichi, OFA wouldn’t have begun.  I think that the trust between these two is ultimately the reason why the 2nd user finally agreed to help Deku; the same with the 3rd user too.  And, kind of a tangent, but I really like how Horikoshi draws Yoichi and the 2nd user’s hands as they’re reaching for each other.  Horikoshi has always been really good with drawing hands like they’re facial expressions (something my ass could never do 😭) and this one shows kindness and empathy.  It’s almost like what would’ve happened if Bakugo accepted Deku’s hand for help when they were young instead of letting his pride and ego get in the way.  Oh, the parallels! 

Finally, the 2nd user speaks in present day telling Deku that they’re going full speed ahead now.  My guess is that Deku’s going to have to improve on OFA and the rest of his Quirks quickly in order to find and beat the LoV.  We are in the Final Act after all.  The chapter ends at a good place if we want to switch to the UA kids, which is honestly what I’m hoping for.  Again, I love Deku and his Vigilante adventures, but I miss the rest of the kids.  The new BNHA Exhibition in Japan apparently has a giant drawing of the main class, All Might, Aizawa, and Shinso in his new hero costume!  Which tells me that 1. Shinso probably took Deku’s place in the class for the time being, and 2. We’re definitely going to see the other kids again.  I’m hoping soon.  But, I wouldn’t be surprised if Horikoshi decided to continue focusing on Deku’s Vigilanteism and have him practice with he 2nd and 3rd Holder’s Quirks now that they’re working with him.  We’ll just have to see.

So, that’s it!  Solid chapter overall.  I’m glad we finally got to see the 3rd and 2nd Holder’s faces.  I think the “Kirishima is the 3rd Holder” theroy has been debunked at this point, but I’m still on the “2nd Holder is Bakugo’s ancestor” train.  The similarities and parallels are too strong for me to deny it.  Horikoshi-sensei, please confirm or deny soon 🙏.  We are getting break next week for Golden Week BTW!  All of Shonen Jump is actually, so no One Piece or JJK either (I’m not sure about Jump+, so we might still be getting some Spy X Family for example).  So, basically all our favorite mangakas are getting a well-deserved break as they should!  I hope they enjoy their vacation!  Waiting’s going to suck tho, I’m ngl about that...  Oh well, I’m willing to take the sacrifice if it means having healthy mangka.  Thankfully, we still have the anime and the new exhibition to tide us over until then.

Edit: OR NOT SINCE THE EXHIBITION IS TEMPORARILY CLOSED BECAUSE OF A CERTAIN PANDEMIC GOING NUTS IN JAPAN AFTER ONLY BEING OPEN FOR 2 DAYS 😭 

Edit: I went back to re-read the chapter and I completely missed the date for the next chapter (chapter 311) which is set to release on May 9th!  So, we’re actually getting a 2 week break instead.  Damn...  Sucks for us, but it’s good for mangaka to get breaks when they can especially considering their absolutely insane schedule.

Me reading this chapter:

#My Hero Academia Spoilers #Boku No Hero Academia Spoilers #MHA Spoilers #BNHA Spoilers #MHA 310 #BNHA 310 #Deku #Izuku Midoriya #All Might #Toshinori Yagi #One For All #OFA #All For One #AFO #things are getting intense #things are getting interesting #what's going to happen to our boy #where are the rest of my adopted kids #I miss them #bring them back pls #Kohei Horikoshi #my thoughts #my post #my writing #theories #spoiler thoughts #spoilers #you get a theory and you get a theory and YOU GET A THEORY

[utaoloadorm]

Technical Information

Voiceclaim           Nobunaga Shimazaki

Twisted from        Te Fiti/Te Ka

Biographical Information

Gender             Male

Age                18

Birthday            October 29th

Starsign            Scorpio

Height             1,90 cm

Eye Color           Gold

Hair Color          Green

Homeland         'O Motu Tuai (The Old Islands)

Professional Status

Dorm              Uta'oloa

School Year         Third

Class              3-D, Student no.3

Occupation         Student, Vice-Dorm Leader

Club               Horse-Riding Club

Best Subject        Biology

Fun Facts

Dominant Hand            Ambidextrous

Sexuality            Heterosexsual

Favorite Food        crabs

Least Favorite Food   red meat

Dislikes             Stealing

Hobby              art of barkcloth (siapo)

Talents              Knowledge of flower languages

Description:

The Vice Leader of Uta'oloa dormitory. Intimidating boy with scary aura but also with a heart of gold.

Soifua is a laconic man that would rather keep his conversations short. He doesn't have many of them though, most students are afraid to approach him due to his menacing, intimidating aura. His lack of expressions doesn't help either, he's usually seen with a neutral look that only rarely shows annoyance or irritation.

Soifua is not too keen on approach students either, he tries to keep his distance. After two years in RSA, he has a terrible image of NRC students and doesn't want to get involved with them. He always questions their motives, never believes they want to be friends with him out of the good of their hearts.

He's more lenient with his dormmates. Although he doesn't let his guard down, he sees them as a lesser threat, after all, they all had something in common. He can be seen as the older brother figure. Helping with schoolwork and making sure that everyone takes care of themselves, while keeping up that scary facade. Although, he won't comfort a crying person, even if he's the reason for their distress, not wanting to step out of his comfort zone.

Then, there is Soifua around his close friends. Where he lets go of his facade completely. Since he can trust them, Soifua can show off his 'mom friend' nature, making sure they’re all happy. Not only in terms of eating, sleeping and schoolwork. For them, Soifua is ready to break the rules and go against his moral code just to make them content.

Around those people, Soifua also shows all the hidden emotions. Mostly the worry that is killing him every day. Is he good enough? Why isn't he as good as that person? How could he make that person sad... Was he a bad person for lying? But it was for the sake of his friend... Why he's not strong enough to protect others?

Those are only a few of questions that bother him several times a day. 

His close friends see the whole range of Soifua's emotions: from soft caring to burning rage. Soifua had rather violent nature as a child, it resurfaces again when people dear to him are getting threatened. In that state, he forgets about his pacifist ideals, doesn't care about his well-being or increased chances of overblotting. He was taught to protect his people, he's not afraid to get hurt in the process.

Soifua always feels unsure, worries about everything and cares deeply about his friends. But due to the pressure put on him since childhood, he's good at hiding all of it under a cold facade, not wanting to be seen as powerless or pathetic - or lost control over his magic. It's a shield that protects him from being used by others, and others from his emotional, violent nature. 

Unique Magic:

「Tresure of Nature」 He can take or give mana to all living beings; humans, animals and plants.

Relationships: 

I'ila: Soifua still deeply cares about him and tries his best to regain Vasatoa's trust. Due to their long friendship, I'ila is the only person that can use his full potential, and Soifua doesn't mind. As long as Vasatoa wants to use him, wants to interact with him, he's happy. Penina: He likes her cheerful nature, and trusts her more than other NRC students since she got Vasatoa's approval. He might be slightly jealous over her friendship with I'ila, but will never admit that. Mala: The perfect example of why he doesn't like NRC students. As much as he values her honesty, he dislikes her cruel, negative behaviour. Soifua rarely spends time with her and doesn't wish to change that. Meli: Another perfect example of why he doesn't trust NRC students. He loathes her two-faced nature, remembering her behaviour from their childhood. Still tries to understand her and why she acts like that. He would love to help her...

#twisted wonderland #twst #banner #Soifua Fugala #oc #fandorm #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland fandorm #fanart

[souvcniir]

*   bopping  along  to  forever  by  drake  is  𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑  ,  the  twenty  two  year  old  cis  man  thrown  back  to  their  business  days  with  none  of  his   memories  .  voted  most  likely  to  move  out  the  country  ,  alis  was  known  for  being   resilient &   facetious ,  go  figures  you'd  always  find  them  being  threatened  to  be  kicked  off  of  the  football  team  ,  but  grew  up  to  be   audacious &  untrusting  .

what’s  happening  cuties  !   listen  ,  i  cannot  join  a  group  without  giving  the  fattest  and  biggest  warning  that  despite  being  in  the  rpc  for  a  minute  now  ,   i  still  suck  at  introductions  .  embarrassing  luv  ,  i  know  asdj  .  i’m  gi(anna)  ,  i’m  nineteen  years  old  ( a  big  old  baby   )  ,  i  go  by  she  and  her  pronouns  and  i  currently  live  on  the  east  coast  which  throws  me  in  the  est  timezone  !!!  this  is  one  out  of  two  of  my  children  that  i’ll  be  bringing  you  ,   and  um  can  i  just  say  im  obsessed  with  the  fc  pairing  i  got  going  on  for  alistair  .  aron  piper  and   giuseppe  maggio  ?   this  is  what  heaven  is   asdfgh  .    down  below  you’ll  find  a  little  about  alistair  !  and  if  you  want  to  plot  you  can  either  smash  the  heart  button  ,  send  me  a  message  ,  or  message  me  on  discord  at  𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐲#1776  .

*   𝐎𝐍𝐄                          𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  .

a   black   eye   in   response   of   words   of   provokement   ,   lonely   nights   concealed   by   random   bodies   ,   gold   rings   sitting   on   bruised   knuckles   ,   calloused   digits   shielding   a   bright   sun   from   bloodshot   eyes   ,   distant   chatter   drowned   out   by   loud   thoughts   ,    salty  drops   gleaming   on   tan   skin   ,   enchanting   pearly   whites   ,   thunderstorms   singing   pretty   hues   to   sleep     .

*   𝐓𝐖𝐎                          𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

full   name.   alistair  aurelius  salazar  .   nickname(s).    alis  ,  ali  .   preferred   name.   alistair  .   past  age.   twenty  two  .   present  age.   thirty  two  .   date  of  birth.   november  first  .  zodiac.  scorpio  . gender.    cis  man .   pronouns.   he  and  him  .   sexuality.  pansexual  .   younger  faceclaim.   aron  piper  .   older  faceclaim.   giuseppe  maggio   .   character  inspiration.    hardin  scott  ,   niccolo  govender  rossi  ,  lip  gallagher  ,  and   bellamy  blake  .

*   𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄                          𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒  .

(   physical  abuse  ,  slightly  detailed     )

    sorrows  and  raindrops     ,   remnants  of  a  first  breath  that  established  the  tone  of  the  upbringing  of  curly  locks  and  pearly  whites  that  never  flashed  for  too  long  .      he  was  a  prisoner  in  a  punishment  meant  for  another  .   he  was  a  prisoner  to  rage  .

   he’s  made  up  of  pleads  ,   and  sobs  that  still  haunt  his  childhood   .   neglected  of  forehead  kisses  and  bedtime  stories   ,  gifted  fists  against  previously  bruised  flesh  in  substitution  .    black  and  blue  decorating  his  body  so  frequency  that  for  a  while  he  forgot  what  he  looked  like  without  them  .   

   one  night  ,  he   held  his  broken  arm  in  his  lap  and  begged  her  to  tell  him  why  ,  why  did  she  hate  him  so  much  ?    she  never  answered  ,   didn’t  even  move  a  muscle  .   left  her  seven  year  old  child  to  pull  himself  off  of  the  floor  and  out  the  door  .  that  was  his  last  memory  of  her  .

    left  in  the  care  of  the  foster  system    and  a  year  later  was  put  into  the  custody of  a  man  who  was  suppose  to  be  his  father  .   a  politician  who  had  cared  more  about  his  image  then  his  own  blood  eight  years  earlier  .   not  an  excuse  ,  his  father  would  learn  that  with  the  help  of  guilt  eating  him  from  the  inside  out  .  did  everything  he  could  think  of  to  make  it  up  ,    not  an  easy  challenge  .  

*   𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑                         𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 .

walked  hand  in  hand  with  being  difficult  .      labeled  the  broken  bird  .  the  dirt  bag  .   found  traces  of  himself  in  chaos  and  so  he  became  it  .    a  smart  boy  drowning  in  a  hurt  he  had  not  fully  recovered  from  .    got  better  as  the  years  went  ,   and  twenty  two  was  his  golden  years  of  doing  his  very  best  to  not  self  destruction  .  

kept  himself  busy  ,  but  that  does  not  mean  he  kept  himself  out  of  trouble  .  a  smart  boy  who  had  the  ability  to  stumble  into  class  with  black  rims  covering  regrets  from  the  previous  night  .   cannabis  was  the  best  form  of  therapy  and  getting  blacked  out  on  weekdays  was  his  favorite  sin  .   

careless  and  impulsive  ,  everyone’s  favorite  partner  in  crime  .  bruised  knuckles  and  a  fat  lip  were  the  consequence  of  a  insolent  mouth  that  never  knew  when  to  stop  .   smiled  with  blood  dripping  from  his  mouth  and  returned  to  his  dorm  with  bruised  knuckles  ,  now  he  remembered  what  he  looked  like  .    

charming  words  and  wandering  hands  might’ve  fooled  you  ,  but  commitment  for  him  was  unreachable  .   he  was  stuck  in  the  mindset  that  he  was  too  fucked  up  for  someone  to  love  him  and  it  showed  in  every  relationship  he  had  ever  had  .   he  was  the  heartbreaker  ,  or  more  so  the  cold  hearted  .  used  others  to  silence  the  demons  in  his  head  and  left  before  the  sun  crept  through  curtains  .  

*   𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄                         𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓  .

ten  years  formed  a  new  label  ,  the  phoenix  .   the  businessman  .    moved  around  until  he  settled  in   san  francisco  where  he  soon  opened  up  a  bar  with  his  business  partner  .   successful  ,  finally  funded  his  own  life  with  money  that  he  earned  .  but  there  was  more  to  him  then  just  expensive  cars  and  days  being  referred  to  as  boss  . 

healed  in  more  ways  then  he  had  been  ten  years  ago  ,  thanks  to  the  help  of  actual  therapy  (  though  cannabis   was  still  a  friend  )   .   greatest  achievement  was  finding  forgiveness  in  his  heart  for  his  father  and  building  a  normal  son  -  father  relationship  .    

decided  early  he  didn’t  want  kids  and  instead  adopted  a  pitbull  named  kyson  .   his  best  friend  and  as  those  around  him  joke  ,  his  son  .   is  his  background  a  picture  of  him  and  his  dog  ,  yes  .  mind  your  business  .

now  a  known  playboy  ,  though  most  aren’t  surprised  .  says  he’s  too  busy  for  relationships  but  it’s  just  the  fact  that  some  things  never  change  and  commitment  was  still  a  scary  thing  .  

recently  ,  as  in  the  last  three  years  ,  moved  to  riccione  ,  where  he  opened  up  his  fourth  bar  .   lives  in  a  house  on  the  beach  and  only  returns  home  every  few  months  (  plus  the  holidays  )  .  has  become  a  big  beach  bum  ,  but  he  likes  the  environment  .  does  the  whole  beach  life  activities  too  ,  the  hiking  and  the  surfing  (  though  he’s  not  very  good  )   .  

no  longer  a  fighter  ,  and  instead  is  the  one  breaking  them  up  .   realized  there  was  one  thing  he  never  wanted  to  be  ,  his  mother  ,  and  so  he’d  never  resort  to  using  his  fist  unless  in  the  act  of  defense  and  even  then  he’s  had  a  good  job  of  walking  away  .  

*   𝐒𝐈𝐗                         𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓  𝐈𝐍  𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓   .

back  to  square  one  .  no  memories  of  who  he  grew  up  to  be  ,  just  the  old  feeling  of  anger  and  hurt  .   sad  to  see  his  process  thrown  out  the  window  ,  his  healing  cracked  open  .  the  biggest  question  ,  is  will  he  get  to  his  end  point  once  again  or  will  a  second  chance  be  his  downfall  ?

*   𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍                          𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒  .

has  always  taken  very  good  care  of  himself  in  the  sense  of   what  he  puts  into  his  body  ,  even  in  college  he  paid  important  attention  to  diet  and  exercise  .  

doesn’t  speak  of  his  mother  ,  or  at  least  he  didn’t  .  you  asked  a  question  and  got  silence  in  return  .  most  never  actually  knew  what  the  first  seven  years  of  his  life  was  ,  which  left  many  in  shock  when  he  finally  decided  to  open  up  about  it  .

he  doesn’t  like  nicknames  and  prefers  to  be  called  just  alistair  ,  though  some  people  do  get  a  pass  ,  even  if  that  pass  comes  with  a  hard  look  .

his  drink  of  choice  is  bourbon  but  he  hasn’t  been  a  bigger  drinker  since  his  college  days  ...  his  friends  would  joke  it’s  because  he  overdid  it  too  many  times  in  his  younger  years  . 

*  𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓                          𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  .

*   these  are  simply  just  ideas  to  give  us  something  to  start  with  ,  i  am  open  to  anything  that  is  not  mentioned  as  well  am  completely  and  totally  okay  with  switching  things  around  and  adding  things  to  these  ideas !!!  i  love  plotting  and  bouncing ideas  off  of  each  other  so  don’t  be  afraid  to  stray !

                    YOU’RE  BAD  FOR  MY  HEALTH  ,  YEAH  YOU  SHOULD  HURT  SOMEBODY  ELSE  (  PAST  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN    )  .    he  was  bad  for  their  health    ,   a  rollercoaster  that  consisted  of  too  many  downs  .  toxic  ?  yes  .  in  love  ?  in  denial  .  but  whatever  was  between  these  two  ,  it  kept  them  at  each  others  throats  and  in  each  other  bed  .   this  was  not  the  one  who  got  away  ,  it  was  the  one  he  needed  to  stay  away  from  . 

                   WILL  HE  ALWAYS  BE  MINE  ?   ( PRESENT  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   ) .    his  first  adult  relationship  ,  and  like  alistair  himself  it  was  not  always  easy  .  long  nights  ,  busy  days  ,  sometimes  this  relationship  felt  like  it  was  set  up  to  fail  ..  and  then  they  got  their  moments  where  butterflies  flapped  their  wings  and  rose  spreaded  to  cheeks  and  it  really  seemed  like  it  would  work  ...  but   good  moments  ,  they  come  and  go  and  this  relationship  leaves  the  other  thinking  how  long  they  might  have  alistair  . 

                  I  GOT  A  BAD  IDEA  ( PAST  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   ) .    he  looked  to  his  left  and  saw  them  ,  and  when  he   looked  in  front  of  him  he  saw  the  bars  and  regrets  forming  .   these  two  were  a  duo  that  wreaked  havoc   ,  being  around  them  meant  cop  sirens  and  bad  decisions  .  these  two  were  ,  what  do  they  say  ?  young  and  dumb  .

                  WHOLE  SQUAD  MOBBIN  EVEN  THOUGH  WE  ONLY  SIX  DEEP  ( PAST  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   ) .    his  best  buddies  (  that  i  manage  are  still  apart  of  his  life  in  present  time  )  made  up  of  two  to  three  others  .  they  are  his  people  ,  his  picked  family  .   

                I  SWEAR  IF  I  EVER  LEFT  YOU  IN  THE  COLD  ,  IT’S  CAUSE  IT  WAS  COLDER  INSIDE   (  PRESENT  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   )  .   a  old  friend  who’s  no  longer  that  ,  a  friend  .  i  picture  this  to  be  more  complicated  then  what  it  seems  ,  but  picture  these  two  going  from  being  attached  at  the  hip  to  not  speaking  to  one  another  .

                  CAN  YOU  IMAGINE  ?   ( PAST  CONNECTION  ┋  OPEN   ) .    that  one  person  who  badly  wanted  something  more  from  alistair  and  got  exactly  the  opposite  .   lovers  in  the  way  of  intimacy  but  one  sided  emotionally  .  

#again.intro #◟ ♡ ⋅ . mun . ﹛ 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑 ﹜ : introduction . #abuse tw #the fact that this took me forever to write and its what ? #TRASH . #asdfghj #my goal is to get rizo's up tonight too but i cannot make any promises #also sorry because i feel like .. this is kind of long ??? #if i forgot any trigger warnings please lmk #and please ignore all mistakes asdfg

[todragonsart]

Oasis

This is my Art-trade piece from November I totally didn’t have time to post here yet :’DDD <3 It’s written for the lovliest Cero! I knew she enjoyed it, haha. 

About 16 pages of Maverick/Nomad, it’s sweet, I swear! <3 Hope you enjoy!

Erik Thorn struggled with sleeping for most of his life. His problem wasn’t insomnia, or some mental illness, it was just his brain functioning as it did. Starting from a very young age, most of his nights were one of these two: either sleepless tossing and turning, or strange dreams about emotions, colorful storms and a few times even nightmares. It would have been strange or even scary for anybody else, but for Erik, it was just… life.

During the day, his brain was working on high; during the night, it needed a fast and efficient way to store all the information he received - and for a boy who was barely allowed to leave his backyard, the amount of input was- surprising. Being homeschooled for most of his childhood, never having a chance to explore, make friends or just learn to climb a tree- it was not an easy way of living for a kid, especially when the child in question was energetic and interested in everything.

Being closed in and supervised, shielded from even the wind with such a lack of stimulus would have made any grown up go crazy. Having all the time in the world, and still nothing to do, no way to process, could push the brain into overdrive; and in order to protect one’s sanity, the mind would try to tire itself - mainly with asking every question, or opening every trauma; thinking about things a normal person doesn’t have time to think about on a regular day.

Experiencing something similar for just a few months made adults develop depression and other issues, so it was expected that a child would not be able to bear with years and years of the same cabin fever. But Erik - being as resourceful as he was - developed a way to manage. Instead of trying to escape his prison all the time, he decided to store these desires in his heart for later use. He was a smart boy and he knew more than enough that his parents wouldn’t be able to shield him for all his life, so he turned to learning. And by learning, he meant books, and by books, he meant all the books he could put his hands on, not caring if it was about tales, science, culture, languages, geography, animals or history - he wanted to read all.

And since he had all the time in the world, with nothing to do, he did indeed read all the magazines, plays and books he could reach. When other children were hanging out in school, he was reading about space and stars. When boys his age were playing hide and seek on the streets, he learnt about ancient Greece; and when they were making friends, he was making plans. After all his parents were able to keep his body in one place, but they had no power over his mind wandering to the fantastic castles of Russia, the beautiful seas of Australia or the endless deserts of Africa.

Books gave him so much inner freedom he was able to completely shut out the fact that he had never experienced a true childhood, and he was happy. At the age of 15, instead of chasing girls like a normal boy would, he spent his days reading and learning about everything, and during the night he lied restlessly, dreaming about the places he wanted to visit, things he wanted to see, goals he wanted to achieve. The images were so vivid in his head, he sometimes thought he could just reach and touch them.

He read all about the wonders of the world and, while patiently waiting for his turn to decide, he planned fantastic journeys to places his parents would never even dream about. He locked all these desires deep into his heart until he finally became old enough to choose his own path, and by the time he got asked ‘What do you want to do with your life’ he already had an answer ready.

He knew his parents wanted to keep him safe, that they wished him to become a lawyer, stay close to them, have a peaceful career, with a silent family of his own and die after a long, successful and very boring life - so of course he did the exact opposite!

Signing up to military training was his way to rebel, and soon he discovered that it was the best decision he ever made.

By the age of 25 he was able to travel to countless countries and cities with the army. Becoming an Intelligence Officer was the most suitable for his abilities and desires, and after learning Dari and ending up in Afghanistan he finally - for the first time in his life - found his place and purpose. For a while. He had all the time in the world to explore the colorful culture, the traditions, the good and also the bad sides of Kabul, and he fell in love with the city in no time. He could say that he was finally living all his dreams, but Erik still struggled with sleeping.

He was busy with all the work, all the information, all the responsibility day after day, yet it was just not enough for his brain to get tired - or this time maybe it was too much. During his childhood, the lack of input kept him awake; when he was a teenager, the fantastic future was not letting him have his rest. And when he was just fulfilling the dreams he always had, working for greater good and helping others and living in a different country, it turned out to be a bit too much to handle. It was without a doubt pretty ironic.

As the situation in Kabul grew more and more tense, he got less and less sleep. He needed to work 48-72 hours in one go, and when he finally had a few hours of peace, he fainted. It was sleep, but not rest. Both his mind and his body were strained to their limits, and as the tension collapsed in the city, so did he. He arrived at a crossroad, and in order to survive, he took the harder path and cut every connection that tied him to the outer world.

After he escaped Kabul for the first time in 8 years of active service, he felt- hopeless. Lost. Weak.

Relieved.

Relieved?

Relieved like a man who just cut all the chains that held him down would be. For the first time in his life, he had nobody to tell him what to do. No parents, no commanders, no nothing. When this realisation washed over him, he felt exhausted and energetic at the same time.

For a few days, he had been wandering close to Kabul to see if anybody would come after him, but when nobody arrived after two weeks, he understood the gift that fell into his lap.

It wasn’t simply about shaking all the chains of command off himself, but it was true and total freedom. He had the power to forget his original culture, his ways of living, his career, his belongings and even his name. He got the chance to peel every layer of paint, and start with a blank, white canvas if he wanted- and oh he wanted! He wanted to escape from his previous life.

The next day the first thing he did was to sell every item he owned, even his watch. He got so drunk on the newly discovered freedom, he allowed himself to get lost in time as well. With nothing but the money he got, a small backpack and water, he started his aimless journey around the country, and for two whole years, he didn’t even look back. Without doubt, that was the happiest time of his life… or so he thought.

He spent his days wandering from town to town, exploring more and more of the rigid beauty of Afghanistan. He was living from one day to another: when he found work, he got paid, when he gambled, he lost his money, and when he couldn’t find any food, he didn’t eat. All of his previous life experiences were stripped off him, and he became a man whose only purpose was to satisfy his needs. He fought for food, water and shelter, like an animal, and it was just such an easy way of living for him that he was able to shut his brain out for a while and live for the moment.

During his second year of complete isolation, he travelled through the Dasht-e Margo desert in order to get to Lashkargah for his next Buzkashi tournament. Crossing the endless sands on foot was a challenge on its own, and he wanted to try it for so long now.

Before he started his journey, he planned his route and scheduled in a few extra days as well. He wanted to allow himself the luxury of getting lost. He packed all the water he could and got on his foot to conquer the grim dunes of The Desert of Death .

As he arrived at the Dasht-e Margo, he allowed himself a minute of silent appreciation. He knew that it was one of the deadliest deserts of the globe, and he knew that he needed to respect it. He felt that if he could cross these sands without getting lost or going insane, he could do anything, so he set foot in the desert, having no idea about the way it would change him.

The first day and night went as peacefully as possible, but the next morning he discovered a very important factor: There was nobody here to talk to . He was completely alone, with nothing but the sea of burning sand under his feet, the september sun on the sky and his own thoughts. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he only had his mind as company, and getting deeper into the desert, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to open Pandora’s box, yet it was too late to turn back now.

By the second night came the realisation of the parallel between his childhood and this desert. His body might have not been confined in a house, but wherever he turned there was nothing except the sand and the sun. It was a physical jail in a form, with his mind having all the time to think - and as a good cabin fever worked, soon he started to ask every question, open every trauma and think about the things he didn’t have time to think about in one and a half years.

By the third day, he opened up every shut door in his soul, and gave himself into the unspeakable amount of remorse he felt for his parents and the army. He knew that he was being selfish when he cut his ties, and truth to be told, he missed his previous life. He knew that everybody thought he was dead, and he didn’t go back to tell them otherwise. He simply didn’t want to. He wanted to be alone, he wanted to do whatever he wished for, so he just did that without thinking twice. He lied to himself that it was for his survival, but it really wasn’t. He just saw the opportunity to disappear from the radars, and he took it.

He allowed himself to be dead, because death meant free from the burdens, but it also meant being free from all the good he had in his life, the things he missed! For example, he missed his friends from the army, he missed calling his father on a silent sunday evening, and he missed having people ready to catch him if he was falling. He missed being alive.

Four days into the desert, he felt the worst he had ever felt in 33 years. His body was burning, his heart was breaking, his mind was ready to shut down. He couldn’t shake the memory of his own betrayal out of his head, no matter how he tried. Even worse, every time he closed his eyes, he could imagine the worried face of his father, and the tears of his mother as his colonel told them he disappeared. He knew he needed to go back, but still wasn’t ready to accept his failure.

On day five, he couldn’t take a step. He just sat for hours, looking into the mirages the sun created, thinking about his decisions, and where he turned wrong. He shouldn’t have left Kabul, he shouldn’t have learned Dari, he shouldn’t have signed up for military training. He should have stayed home, to not disappoint his family like this. He should have listened to his parents.

The sixth morning came with a short rain, and he just stood there, eyes closed, shoulders dropped as the water was sinking into his hair, beard and clothes. It was a perfect match to his also cloudy mood. He felt like the worst shit the world has ever seen. He planted his face into his hands and let himself be weak for just a second, the rain was there to hide the pain anyway.

He didn’t know where to turn or what he wanted from life anymore. He was ready to give up. The Desert of Death was getting the best of him, yet his legs were still moving, his lungs still filled with air, and his heart still pumped blood. He felt like dying, yet he kept going on, for reasons unknown.

On the seventh evening, he reached both the breaking point and the oasis. He felt the same when he escaped Kabul, only this time, it was all his fault. All the betrayal, all the pain, all the selfish decisions were on him, there was nobody else to blame.

He dropped his bag in the sand and, collapsing next to the shallow waters of the oasis, he simply pushed his head under in an attempt to calm his storming mind. Since he was here, in the oasis, he got less and less rest, and by this point, his whole body trembled with every step he took. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to cross the desert anymore.

He pulled his head out of the water, taking big gulps of air and he just stared at the small waves he created. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to fix everything. He took a deep breath, and lied on the ground, turning towards the sky. The sun was just about to set, he could already see the first stars of the night.

He kicked his boots down, and pushed his burning legs into the chilly water, waiting in silence as the last rays of the sun disappeared. He wanted to fix it, yet he wanted the freedom. How would the two of these meet..? How could he make it work?

He knew that he needed to go back, he didn’t know how, but he knew that it was the right thing to do. But how would he still keep his independence? How would he still travel and live his dreams? He didn’t want to be stuck in the same place for eight years without change. He was still in love with Kabul, he could imagine himself living there, but not as an intelligence officer, just a native. He still wanted to travel, and explore and live his life.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He needed to solve this somehow.

He needed to let go of everything one more time, and start with a blank canvas yet again, but this time, he needed to make it good. This time, he needed to make his decisions based on his happiness, not out of rebellion or fear. He needed to keep himself and his well being in the focus, while still satisfying others.

He took a deep breath, wiggled his cooling toes and slowly, opened his eyes, to be greeted by the clearest night sky ever seen. When he was a child, and he read about space, he always wished to see the stars and the Milky Way in person, and now that he was here, he simply didn’t know how on Earth did he miss this until now?! What a fool he was.

Watching more and more stars lit up, one after another, he suddenly felt small… insignificant. His problems were gone as he was drinking up the fascinating view.

After a week of feeling down and tense, he suddenly felt calm, even happy. From this perspective, his problems seemed as small as he was at the minute. His lips pulled into a smile and closing his eyes, he fell into a gentle, deep sleep, for the first time in his life. That night, there was nothing in his mind, no storms, no emotions, nothing. He felt empty and peaceful, and he slept like never before.

It was the most fucked up feeling ever; spending seven days breaking down all the walls he built around himself just to end the terror fulfilling a childhood dream that washed tranquility over him, and the next morning he woke up refreshed, relaxed.

He sat next to the water and refilled his bottles, letting his mind wander again. This time, it wasn’t about hatred and remorse, but ways to fix this. He counted the memories from all across his years that he considered happy, and analysing them, he set foot on the sand to finish the journey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erik spent approximately two whole weeks in the Desert of Death, and this trip on the endless sands turned to be his personal El Camino . The Erik who entered the desert died on the way, and the Erik who left was a different person. From the next day, he started to work on his return, thankfully he didn’t need to wait for too long. When Nokk found him, he was more than ready to live.

To his biggest surprise, getting into contact with the military again was easy. His knowledge and input about the country and the people came in handy, and even though he wasn’t completely off the hook because of this whole disappearance act, his help with dismantling a major insurgency operation was his testimony of loyalty, and without a doubt, he excelled. He even got the attention of a whole new circle, and when Six reached out to him, he accepted the opportunity with gratitude.

Arriving in England opened a whole new chapter for him. He never imagined living in this country, it wasn’t too appealing for him; but as he learnt more about Team Rainbow and  his new teammates, he decided it was worth every rain-soaked shoe and shitty weather. Being selected into a group with such amazing soldiers was a blessing and a curse at the same time.

Here he needed to fight to prove that he was worthy of his place, and the others kept challenging him all the time for the first few months. They wanted to see if the new guy could handle the weight or not. It was hard, but he kept pushing against them, and soon, they welcomed him in the team with open arms.

He also realised how terrible he was in social interactions. He was just so bad at making friends, he worked so much different than the others, it was madness. For the first few weeks it seemed that he always spoke before thinking, he kept hurting people, making the others mad at him. It was very similar to a bunch of kids in the playground, but since he never experienced that, he had no idea how to make it work, but eventually he started to change. Slow and steady, he learnt to listen, think and answer. The team started to get used to him, and soon he was an anchor for everybody. They came for his insight and advice, and friendships started to form.

By the time the two new teammates arrived, he had already carved his name in the marble side by side with Morowa. They had been in active duty for almost three months now, and he was satisfied with how his life was going.

Both his mind and body were equally tired most of the days, he was able to rest. It was still not the same as in the desert, but he was getting there. He called his mother every week, and he actually told her stories about the places he visited and the things they worked on. He also already had a few vacations planned to countries he had yet to visit, so all in all, it was a decent way of living. He didn’t have any reason to complain, until- until the two new arrived.

He heard a few rumours about them from Mike and Jordan. He knew that one of them is some old, experienced captain of a fortress. He also heard that the other was an adventurer, and he was already excited to hear their stories in exchange for his own. He really wanted to have a friend who would be as invested in traveling as him. He couldn’t wait to meet them.

On the morning of their arrival, he had been hanging out with Yumiko, testing a few new breaches for Jordan in the workshop. When they got back to the canteen, there were the two newcomers. The old man with white beard and a real sword tied to his side, and the other was- um...

Blinking, Erik stepped next to Jordan, to get a better look at the other newbie. He felt his mouth dry, his knees weakened. The other newbie - a lady - was just- she was so beautiful. Her darker skin, her curly black hair, her features, her everything. He never expected to see something this mesmerizing in the middle of Hereford.

Around him, everybody was moving to greet the duo, and he was just standing there, questioning the existence of God.

Jordan looked up at him and slapped his upper back gently. “You are drooling, pal.”

His eyes snapped at the man. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Come, pretty boy, let’s greet them!”

Nodding, Erik followed Jordan, and soon he was shaking hands with both the old man - Jalal - and the woman - Saana. She even had a pretty name. That was just unfair. She also had a firm handshake, sparkling eyes and a sassy smirk hiding in the corner of her mouth. Erik already knew that she was amazing.

“Oh, are you really Erik Thorn? I’ve read about your work in Kabul, it sounded risky.”

Erik’s heart skipped a beat again as he nodded. “It was risky, yes. Especially keeping the tourists alive!”

Saana’s lips pulled into a wide smile hearing that, and that was the end of Erik. He felt his hands shake so he let go of Saana’s hand and looked away. He felt his face warming up. It was- it was the most embarrassing thing ever. He was 36 years old, the Afghan ladies loved him, and he had plenty of experience with them, but this- this was a whole different deal. He felt like a little boy all of a sudden. He felt so stupid. Thankfully Saana didn’t seem to notice, or she was decent enough to pretend not to notice his obvious longing. She looked up at him once more, and stepped away, to greet Mike instead, leaving Erik just enough time to slap himself in the face mentally.

He hoped that this sudden interest in Saana would fade after a few days, that it was just the excitement of something new, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. After bumping into the woman in every goddamn place possible, he realised how small Hereford base really was. His life turned into a hot mess and suddenly he missed his good old hermitage very much, thank you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Saana - it was the exact opposite. Erik found her fantastic. Sanna was not only very attractive in appearance, no! She had the audacity to be smart, funny, interesting, gentle and on the top of it an excellent soldier! She got the hostage out, she solved the team dynamics, she was flexible and confident, and she was everything Erik has ever wanted to be. Saana made life look so easy, but Erik knew that it wasn’t, even for her. He has heard about the adventures of the woman, and he couldn’t imagine how hard it was to keep everything in order, but Saana made it work and he just wanted to learn from this amazing woman.

He found himself wanting to be around Saana, not just in the terms of friendship. He wanted to show her Kabul, and he wanted her to guide him through all her own adventures. He wished to be by her side, but he had no idea how to approach somebody so perfect. He was afraid that he would mess it up, so he didn’t do anything for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His lucky day -or maybe lucky night- came on a stormy Friday in early March. The base was still freezing, and he couldn’t for the love of god fall asleep. They had a big mission going on soon, and he was lying in bed, eyes open, thinking about the new triggering mechanism for his torch, when the first lightning hit the ground. It was so loud he winced in his bed. He looked out of the window as the first drops of rain started to fall. This weather reminded him of his childhood; during storms his mother always made a cup of tea for him, and they stayed up late, cuddled in a big blanket, talking.

He scratched his beard and glanced at the other bed, where Olivier was sleeping peacefully. With a small smile on his lips, he got to his feet and put on a sweatshirt. A cup of tea sounded nice, especially in the cold. He left his room and headed towards the cafeteria. When he turned into the corridor that led towards his destination, he was surprised to see light inside. Shrugging it off, he walked to the door. His hard guess was Ryad or Timur wandering around, or maybe Dominic trying to steal some of Adriano’s delicious biscotti. Without thinking twice, he pushed the door open and stepped in, only to be greeted by Saana, hunched over something at a table.

Blinking a few times, he bit his lips. Nobody was around, just the two of them, he wasn’t even sure if that ever happened before. “Good evening!” he greeted gently, but when no answer came, he stepped closer to the woman, to notice how her eyes were shut. She fell asleep on top of her papers and notebook, hand still holding the pen. He couldn’t hide a smile. Oh, so amazons still needed rest.

He watched her sleep for just a few seconds, and went to the kitchen to put up a kettle of water to heat. Then he left into the common room, to get a blanket from one of the armchairs. Arriving back, he made two cups of tea. He placed both mugs on Saana’s table, and unfolding the blanket, he gently covered the woman with it. To his touch, Saana winced and looked up at him. Her face was wrinkled, hair messy, eyes tired. Nobody was in their best form two seconds after waking up, but Erik still found her perfect.

Saana rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulder. “Thanks. I was working on our next mission, but I guess I fell asleep.” she smiled. “Thank you” she took the mug Erik offered her, and when the man gestured to the place next to her, she nodded.

Sitting down, Erik smiled at her. “Do you always work during the nights?”

“Only when I can’t sleep!” Saana smiled and glanced down at her work.

Erik lifted an eyebrow and followed her gaze to the maps, and weather forecasts and notes. “You sure take this seriously,” he said in amazement.

Saana nodded. “I have never been to this side of Chile, and we are approaching a fortress in the mountains. I just want to make sure that we will come back in our original packages.”

“And I thought I did my homework!” the blonde snorted. He then looked at the leather covered notebook by Saana’s left. “Can I?” he reached out and with an approving ‘sure’, the woman handed him the book.

Erik opened it gently and started to scan through the pages. There were notes and amazing sketches about the places Saana visited before. He couldn’t hold back a smile as he slowly shook his head.

“What?” Saana asked, embarrassed.

“It’s just- I’m just wondering, how are you even real!”

Blushing, Saana placed a hand on her chest with an almost offended smile. “Excuse me?”

“Oh nothing, nothing! It’s just that you exist only to selfishly humiliate us, normal human beings, with this amazing, sassy elegance you have!” Erik smiled at her.

With mouth falling open, Saana rolled his eyes. “I- I will take that as a compliment!”

Tilting his head, Erik smiled. “Good. It was a compliment.”

“Oh, so you compliment every lady like this?”

Erik stuck out his bottom lip and shook his head. “No, not at all. Just the special ladies!”

With a soft giggle, Saana placed her hand on the notebook, trying to pull it away from Erik. “You are horrible!”

“Oh no, no, no! Please! I will behave! Please let me look at your amazing pictures!” Erik did not let go of the notebook just yet.

Saana shook her head. “Okay, okay, fine! But only with one condition.”

“Which is?”

The woman let go of the book and instead, she pointed gently at Erik’s tattoo. “I would like to hear about Afghanistan a bit more.”

Erik glanced down at his tattoo, then back at Saana. “Well… if you want to hear everything, one night is not enough time. I’ve spent ten years in the country.”

With a cheeky smile, Saana nodded. “I don’t think that we will be able to get rid of each other soon anyway.”

His lips pulling into a smile, Erik said. “That is true. In this case, I would like to hear more about your adventures, starting with how you lost your fingers.”

Saana looked down at her hand, and up to Erik again. “That is a gory and disgusting story.”

“I’m all ears!”

Saana poked his side with her elbow gently. “No! You owe me a story about Kabul for now!”

With a resigning sigh, Erik nodded. “But Kabul might not even be that exciting! You can’t build up my interest like that, and then leave me hanging!”

“You are such a- so we are playing mind games now, hm? Emotional blackmailing, hm?”

Erik glanced in her eyes with a pout. “Only if it's working…?”

A good hearted laugh burst out of Saana, filling the canteen with life. “I can’t believe this! Okay, let’s make a deal. You will tell me a story about Kabul now, and then we will go to have some sleep, and tomorrow, I will tell you the story of how I lost my fingers during dinner?”

The blonde shut his mouth immediately, looking the other in the eye without blinking. He considered every possibility and outcome thoroughly and started to nod furiously. “Yes, I would love that very much!”

Satisfied with herself, Saana produced one of those fantastic, bright smiles. “It’s a date then. You pick the restaurant.”

Now it was Erik’s turn to get flushed. A date-a date-a date- adate . He felt his mouth open, but the sound didn’t come out. He was shocked. “A date?”

Saana smirked at him. “You didn’t think that I would invite you to steal food from Adriano and eat it surrounded by the others, right? So it’s a date. If you want it to be a date too!”

Erik looked at her, and started to nod furiously yet again. “Yes, I would love that very much!”

The woman next to him laughed again, and turning towards Erik she waited patiently until the man’s head cleared out just enough to start one of the Kabul stories. He didn’t plan this to be so easy, but he was undoubtedly happy with the sudden turn of events.

The next day, they accidentally stayed at the restaurant talking and exchanging stories for so long, the main chef needed to warn them that they were about to close. Erik knew he would remember that day until the end of his times.

During the dinner, Saana mentioned that she never visited a planetarium, and Erik discovered that despite his undying love for space, he neither set foot into one before. With that, their second date was decided.

They spend the third date in one of Maxim’s hunting huts, eating cereal out straight out of the bag, talking about their life in the army. Erik asked what was the worst thing that happened to Saana, and in exchange, he told her about the day he disappeared. He felt insecure at first, talking about his biggest shame, but Saana just lied there next to him, in the dirt, and listened to his every word without a single word of judgement. When he finished, the woman propped herself up on her elbow, and touching his face gently, she kissed him. It was the best date of all his life, and he already knew that he wanted more. He wanted it all.

For the fourth date, Erik planned a trip for them to Arthur’s Stone, which was just about 20 kms away from Hereford. When they began their journey in the morning, the sky was clear, the sun shining bright, but in a few hours the weather turned upside down, bringing an earth shaking summer storm with it. They were in the middle of nowhere when it hit, and both of them were soaking wet in just a few minutes. He was so angry and disappointed, he could shout. He knew that there was a National park near the Stone, and Saana loved forests, yet they were stuck on a plain field, drowning in mud.

When he opened his mouth to say his apology to Saana, the woman just hugged his neck and gave him a kiss, getting him even more wet, than he was before. She then smiled at him, with that amazing, bright smile of hers and pointed at a barn in the distance. “I bet, you can’t outrun me, Erik!”

She let go of him, starting her race towards the destination, and with that Erik’s anger was gone.

They spent the night in the barn, accompanied by a few horses, cuddled close to keep each other warm, talking about the places they wanted to visit. Until this point both of them planned for only themselves, but soon, their separated trips merged into shared ones. Saana - with all honesty - told him that even though she would never want to leave Erik behind, there were still a few places , like Antarctica, where she wanted to go alone. Understanding what this meant to Saana, Erik obviously accepted her decision, and asked if he could wait for her at the end points of those trips.

With sparkling eyes, Saana put her head on his shoulder, caressing his cheeks with her gentle fingers. “Yes, I would love that very much,” she whispered.

Erik smiled at him, and hugged her close, planting his face into her naked shoulders. “I will wave you goodbye, and I will greet you again, after the 50 days.”

Saana chuckled. “You mean 52 days. The first guy who crossed Antarctica on foot took 52 days.”

With a smile, Erik looked at her. “Saana, I think both of us know that you will never be satisfied with a second place.”

Laughing, the woman nodded, giving him a kiss yet again. “I guess you are right!”

Erik placed a kiss on top of her forehead and hugging her waist closer, he closed his eyes. During that night, in a shitty barn, surrounded by horses, cuddling naked next to one other, Erik found his deep slumber again, just like back at the oasis.

The next morning, he thought it was just one occasion. He was most surprised when, during their fifth date, he fell asleep just as easily as the last time, with Saana pressed against his back, hugging his waist.

They had spent the day in a small Welsh village, exploring the history of it together, then they had dinner in a fantastic little restaurant, and arriving back to their hotel room, they spent the next hours making love to each other. He planned all these outcomes, but he was sure, he won’t be able to sleep, so waking up in the morning, to Saana’s ice-cold feet pressing against his upper thighs, was both a pleasant and an unpleasant surprise. He opened his eyes with a loud yelp, and when he turned to the woman, she just smiled at him innocently. “What happened darling? A bug bit you?”

He wanted to make a smart remark, but before he could open his mouth, he decided to look the woman up and down. Her hair was messy, her eyes sparkled, she was covered in the soft sheets of the hotel, and he knew his future was next to her. So instead of commenting on her being a mountain troll, he gently cupped Saana’s face in between his hands, and gave him a soft kiss. Giggling, she hugged his neck and pulled him closer. As they parted, he pressed his forehead to the woman’s, eyes closed, caressing her arm and that was it. He never looked back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly their relationship got stronger and stronger, and they spent more and more time together. Erik found true rest only with Saana sleeping next to him, and couldn’t have been more grateful for it. It was clear as day that they were happy together, and as he discovered more about Saana, he fell deeper into the pit.

It wasn’t easy all the time, there were days, even weeks, when both of them were stressed from work, and he started to see how Saana - despite being a goddess in his eyes - was just as human as him. She was messy, she spent way too much time working, and when she was stressed she sometimes took it out on him. He soon understood her struggles with always trying to be the best and that she often forgot that she could count on him as well.

To his greatest surprise, the biggest discovery was that he didn’t mind any of this. He wanted to be there for Saana, even if his only job was to make her a tea and cover her in a blanket, when she worked. He never asked her to change, and just as easily as he did, Saana accepted his own strange bits as well. She was by her side, when he was angry, when he was broken, when he was weak, always holding him together with all the love she could give.

Both of them listened when the other needed them to, and they knew how to help. They were not afraid to ask for help and let the other close, because both of them knew that they were just meant for each other, and that after the storm, there will always be able to see the clear skies again.

Their days together turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years, and they never stopped to love and support each other.

Erik was there, when Saana was shot during a mission, sitting sleepless next to her hospital bed until she woke up. She was by his side, when his father got sick, holding his broken pieces together, shielding him from the world. And, as he promised, he was the last one waving goodbye when Saana started her journey across Antarctica, and he was the first to greet her by the goalline.

When Saana was not next to him, because she was on a mission alone, he tended to go back to his old habits of lying in their empty bed, thinking about his previous life. He got himself remembering his childhood, the early years of the military practice, Kabul, his two years long runaway, and that first date with Saana. He found himself smiling, because after all, every struggle he ever had was worth it in the end. He was happy, he loved like never before, and he was loved just the same.

He sometimes got himself thinking that what if it will be over one day? What if, Saana will get to her sober senses and just leave him behind. He wouldn’t blame her, he was not a Prince Charming on a white horse. He wasn’t rich, he wasn’t perfect, he still didn’t know how to say her mother’s name correctly, and he always left the toilet seat up. To his luck, Saana didn’t care about any of these, and she was not afraid to tell that to him over and over again, if she saw he needed it.

Saana had an inhuman sense to read his mood, even when he turned inwards. She always knew what he needed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For example, now, on the evening of the 6th of May, mere minutes before midnight, just as his insecurities were about to rise in him about their wedding tomorrow, Saana sensed his distress and waking from her sleep, she placed her hand on the sides of his face. “You are not sleeping, my love,” she whispered.

With a low chuckle, he pressed a kiss in her palm. “Yes, but you can rest, I’m all good.”

Saana yawned and fidgeting, she rolled him over gently to be able to press against his cooler back with her chest. She hugged his waist, pushing her warm cheeks against his skin. “You are not, I can tell. Let me guess… You are afraid that my father will not accept you in our family. You are sad, because your dad can’t be with us tomorrow. And you are thinking that after eight damn years of strong and stable relationship, I still deserve more than what you are able to give me.”

Erik bit into his lips, listening to Saana with a wide grin on his face. “You know me.”

“Of course I know you. And I know that my father will love to have you as his son-in-law. I also know that even if your dad will not be able to be here physically, he will be looking down at us from Heaven and he will be pretty damn proud about your sexy little wife. And for the last part- Erik, I know you love me, you keep telling me every day. Not with your words, but with your actions. For example how after eight years, you still bring my morning coffee to bed in my favourite mug. How you only fill the rows of the newspaper crosswords I have no idea about but leave the rest for me because you know that I love them. How you suppress your muffled screaming every time, I press my cold feet against your skin… These are small and insignificant to you Erik, I know! Trust me, I know! But I also know that I would never want to press my feet against anybody else. I will press them against your skin for the rest of our lives, and if you have any complaints, I don’t care!”

Erik closed his eyes, listening to Saana, biting the inside of his mouth to hide a soft sniffle. He lifted one of the woman’s hands to his lips and pressed a kiss into his palm. “Have I ever told you about the Oasis in the Desert of Death?” he whispered.

He felt Saana’s lips pulling into a small smile against his back. “Only a few hundred times, why?”

“Because you are just like that Oasis.”

At that, Saana propped in her elbow to get a better look at his face. “Elaborate, please, my love.”

Erik looked up at her, with a soft smile on his face. “When I arrived at that oasis, I was nothing more, but a broken man. I was depressed and weak, I was barely able to stand. I just realised how big of a fool I was for running, how wrong I was. I collapsed on the sand ready to die, but by that oasis I found a piece of myself I lost during the years. I was just lying there, looking up at the sky, and I suddenly felt light and calm. By the water, I realised everything I did wrong, and the ways to fix it. That oasis gave me new life, and you are just the same. You are always there to help me, always there to catch me, always there to remind me why I want to keep going on. You bring me peace and rest, and for that, I love you more than I have ever loved anybody else. You are my present and you are my future.”

Now it was Saana’s turn to hide a sniffle. She rubbed her nose, and took a deep breath glancing away. After a few minutes of silence, Saana looked back at him and clearing her throat, she smirked. “If this is not your goddamn wedding vow for tomorrow, I’m going to be very disappointed!”

Laughing burst out of Erik, as he hugged Saana close to himself, pressing soft kisses on her neck and skin. Shaking with laughter as well, Saana hugged his neck and pulled him into a deep, loving kiss. Parting, she placed her hand on Erik’s face and smiled at him. “I love you so much Erik Thorn. I would not give you up for anybody or anything. You are mine, and I’m yours. And nothing can change it.”

The man looked up at her, eyes sparking with love and hope, and after a gentle kiss, he hugged Saana close to himself. They fell asleep, holding onto each other like they usually did, and that was it. That was true happiness.

#dragonwrites #dragontries #r6s #rainbowsixsiege #fanfic #fanfiction #r6s Maverick #r6s Nomad

[sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-shelby]

Possibly my most epic DnD session yet! (now with sloppy illustrations!)

****Late-game spoilers for Hoard of the Dragon Queen****

I play as Killian Lyle. Level 6 human fighter, eldritch knight, lawful good. +4 str, con. -2 cha. You know the type.

Others in the party are: Rat-Rat, the forest gnome druid. Syrris, the wood-elf rogue. Montagor, the half-elf bard.

So, the last thing Killian did the session before was reenter a tavern our party got kicked out of and try to bribe the tavern keeper to help us get past some baddies. Big tough-looking tavern keeper grabs his weapon. *Roll initiative* End of session.

In Killian’s hands were a shield and a loaf of bread he had recently been served in that tavern. He was alone, the rest of his party discussing plans outside. We all rolled initiative, but only Killian was aware there was going to be combat so far. A couple of the party members got to go first. Basically just wandered town square, taking in surroundings. There are a whole bunch enemy guards nearby, watching, but not picking a fight with the group. 

Killian’s turn. He steps forward and tries to FORCE THE LOAF OF BREAD INTO THE GUYS MOUTH to catch him off-guard and maybe keep him quiet for a second. SMASHING SUCCESS! Guy is unable to stop me from jamming those carbs down his throat and drops his weapon. I bonus action my sword to my hand.

Tavern-keeper’s turn. DM has the guy do a con save to make sure he doesn’t CHOKE TO DEATH AND DIE!  *shit, shit, I didn’t want to kill him!!!* Luckily he saves and is able to clear his airway of bread. He starts swinging fists and misses.

Keep going in initiative order. Guest calls out “HES FIGHTING THE BARTENDER!” Most guests at the tavern flee upstairs, but 2 pull daggers and join in. Montagor the bard hears some commotion and opens the door to see Killian shoving bread down the tavern-keeper’s throat and other people moving in with weapon’s drawn. Tries playing the bagpipes nice and loud for extra diversion, but nat 1′s and pops the bag. Syrris the rogue comes in and starts quietly and *permanently* eliminating anyone attacking with a weapon. Killian tries multiple times to thunk the tavern-keeper on the head with the hilt of his sword well enough to knock him out, but the dude keeps fighting. Poor guy can’t make a single hit though. 

This fight’s going longer than Killian was hoping. He tries a different tactic: INTIMIDATE. Another smashing success. Like a 19 or something, since intimidate is his one charisma-based skill that doesn’t get a negative modifier. BARTENDER GETS A NAT 1! Surrenders. Killian backs off just before the Captain of the group of enemies walks in.

“WHAT”S GOING ON IN HERE!?”

Killian gambles on deception. NAT 20 “Some guys were fighting the tavern-keeper. We helped. They’re dead now.”

Intimidated tavern-keeper nods, says they were going to rob him.

Enemy captain thanks us for protecting his friend and leaves. WOW, DODGED A BULLET THERE!

We head out too, Killian dropping a couple of gold coins for the tavern-keeper as he heads out, and start looking for a good way to get past the guards. We’re trying to get into a GIANT ICE CASTLE that’s about to FLY AWAY. Time’s running out. I’m not sneaky, but we’re about to give it a try, see if our amazing rolls continue. We decide to peek in the giant stable that had HUGE REPTILIAN GROWLS coming from it. This would either be really bad or really good for us. 

Really good! Tied-up wyverns along one wall, riding harnesses on the other. The ice castle begins to take off. Guess we’re doing this! We smell the stink of meat from a nearby building. The rogue is unable to carry a full pig carcass herself. Killian goes to help. NAT 20! Throws a pig over one shoulder, and a sheep over the other and marches off toward the wyverns. Killian has crap animal handling skills, but Rat-Rat the druid doesn’t. Killian keeps the things distracted with bites of meat, Rat-Rat puts the harnesses on them with great success. We climb on, again without incident. And Rat-Rat is apparently a natural-born dragon-rider because he came up with an incredible plan that worked without a hitch. 

Minor-illusion the image of a fat turkey, flying just out of reach of the wyvern. Bard prestidigitation’s the smell of juicy meat coming off the “turkey”. Wyverns were eager to follow. Probably more complicated than it needed to be, but hey, it has pizzazz!

We are able to catch up to the ice castle and land they wyverns near another stable that they seemed trained to fly to. Looking around, ogres and kobolds seem to pay us no mind. Guess randos flying in on the backs of dragon things is a normal sight around here. But as it starts getting dark, creatures seem to hurry their tasks and make their way indoors. We figure we’d better do so as well. Quietly enter the first door we approach. Amazingly, nobody’s there. Not out and about anyway. There’s a comfortably furnished room right when we walk through the door, but we decide to keep exploring. Rat-Rat casts detect magic. The comfortable room has an illusory wall to an outside platform, but nothing else of note. 

We hear a familiar voice arguing with another voice in another room. A wizard we’d rather not exchange blows with if we can help it. Luckily, according to the DM’s dice rolls, they notice nothing.

Then, further down the hall we heard another familiar voice. Rezmir, the dragonborn cult leader we’ve been tracking for MONTHS. Basically in the first spot we look. Wow, really? And none of us are hurt. Most of us have all of our spell slots and other abilities still available to us. Could this be more perfect? Rat-Rat does see a bit of magic in the room in the last moments before his spell times out, but that’s to be expected, right?

There is a lock.“It looks much more complicated than any lock you’ve encountered before”, the DM tells us. But our rogue is pretty skilled in her arts. She decides to give it a try. 

“With my modifier that was a 30.″ Huh. What luck. DM said later that was a DC 25 lock. 

Rezmir was inside, sitting on her bed in her pajamas, just loving on her doggos. I mean attack drakes. Not paying us any mind whatsoever. *roll initiative*

Syrris goes first. Perfect opportunity for an assassination with her poison dagger and all those extra dice rolls she gets in just this sort of situation. She steps into the room and is SNATCHED UP AND HELD DOWN BY A SENTIENT AREA RUG! I should’ve drawn this part too because I can’t help but imagine the magic carpet from Aladdin wrestling the elf.

Anyway, fighting then ensues. Attack drakes come running, keeping the rest of the party besides the rogue out in the hall. Rezmir starts out unarmed, and shoots off a scary-looking spell at our bard. It misses and melts the wall behind him. Thank goodness it missed. Rogue takes 2 turns escaping the rug, Rezmir runs for her sword across the room. Rat-Rat’s moonbeaming Rezmir rather successfully. Killian and the Montagor are mostly in melee with the drakes, but Killian did start with a firebolt to Rezmir’s face. This fight hurts, both sides taking plenty of damage.

The rogue is taking the brunt of the damage trapped inside the bedroom with the dragonborn and that mean magic carpet. She takes it like a champ, but there’s a turn for the worse when she’s ready for healing. The bard’s starts coming to her aid, and she takes more damage, this time from the sword. Healing has no effect from that point.... The sword did something to stop her from regaining hit points, and after the significant damage from its blade, that’s bad news.

Bard and Rogue get caught in a breath attack, and the rogue goes down. Killian and Rat-Rat are still outside of the room, Killian around a corner and can’t actually see Rezmir from where he’s at. Shit. We still have one drake remaining. Killian tries his best with two attacks to eliminate it, but does min damage on both and it remains standing. Fuck it. Time for an Action Surge. Moves past the drake to where he’s in melee with Rezmir herself, stepping out from around the corner. Double attack again. Hits on both. NAT 20 ON THE SECOND! 

“How did it happen?”, the DM asks. I’m floored that I managed to down her in that hit.

“Killian steps around the corner, swinging his sword to where her saw the breath attack originate, slicing through her pajamas into the scales beneath. He then makes eye contact with her and sees the recognition in her face as she looks his way in surprise, even as he’s pulling back his sword for a second strike. Killian lunges full-force, plunging the sword right through her before she has the chance to react.”

“FOOLS!”, she cries out with her final breath as she disintegrates into ash, her sword and a couple of keys clanging to the floor where she had stood. Simultaneously an ornate chest in the far corner of the room violently explodes, destroying anything that might’ve been inside.

We rush to the Syrris, and Rat-Rat stabilizes her. Killian places her on the bed to rest. Then eyes turn toward the items Rezmir left behind. Killian voices that the rogue won’t be pleased to see the chest exploded when she regains consciousness, but doesn’t personally care much that the loot is no more. The party uses one of the keys in the pile of ash that was Rezmir to relock the room so they can use the comfortable chamber for a night of recuperation before continuing venturing back into the castle.

“Killian, I think you’re the only one of us that could wield that sword.”, Rat-Rat squeaks, pointing to the one remaining object on the ground.

The sword is jagged and black with a purple crystal in the hilt. Something about it makes Killian uneasy.

Killian replies, “A greatsword... Doesn’t really suit my fighting style. But it seems a powerful blade. ” Then he picks it up off the floor feeling powerful magic coursing through it, and hears a voice in his head.

“Hello”, the sword whispers, darkly. “You enjoyed that kill, didn’t you.”

Oh man, having my lawful good, magic fanatic, fighter boy weigh the benefits of wielding a legendary magical sword of untold power, against the moral drawback of it being intelligent and EVIL is going to be a wild ride. He has attuned to it, and we’ll see where this takes us. 

I’m still reeling from all the amazing things that happened in this session. What a day for Killian in particular. 

#dnd #dnd stories #dnd art #dungeons and dragons #human fighter #eldrtich knight #hoard of the dragon queen #dnd story #rezmir #dnd comic #magic weapon #dnd adventures #sketch #fighter #hotdq

[danyka-fendyr]

Absence of Good

Chapter 1: Masquerade

Okay so I’ve been talking about starting a Spencer Reid fic for 8 million years and now I’m finally going to do it. So anyway...ya’ll better reblog this and leave nice comments if you want the second part that I will write regardless of whether anyone validates me or not because this is half for myself. Don’t judge you know you’re in the same boat. Anyway, enjoy. Or don’t I can’t make you love me.

Permanent Taglist: @rhabakoli @dreamwritesimagines

Warnings: Extremely graphic gore, descriptions of murder, disturbing themes

Wordcount: 3234

“When people see some things as beautiful, other things become ugly. When people see some things as good, other things become bad.”

-Lao Tzu

The most intimidating part of a job was always the first day. You didn’t know anybody, you didn’t really know what you were doing, and you were still a little bit convinced that your boss was judging your every move and kind of hated you. The fact that Aaron Hotchner had not once smiled during your interview did nothing to assuage that fear.

However, here you were, in the elevator at Quantico, with a tray full of coffee, balancing a million creamers and even more sugar, because you weren’t sure what everyone liked but you were trying to win them all over with bribery anyway. A lovely day, truly.

You had wanted this job in the BAU for years. You were morbidly interested in serial killers ever since you were young, and fascinated with catching them. To most people it was...offputting, to say the least. People don’t really warm up to the girl who thinks that announcing how many people Gary Ridgeway killed is a good ice breaker. 49 confirmed, 71 claimed, by the way.

So naturally, you figured you should go somewhere your talents would be better appreciated. Unfortunately, every half-wit piece of muscle in the FBI wanted to be in the BAU, so it had taken you several years to get to where you were today. Frankly, you thought you should have been here much sooner, but it was a rigorous process, and so you had to wait until you were well into your 20′s. But hey, not like you were getting any younger over here, right? 

Okay, so you were bitter. What else is new?

Your first few seconds in the bullpen were utterly terrifying for the simple fact that nobody noticed you were there. This was not...how do you say...uncommon, for you. However, it was exceptionally awkward. Did you speak up? Did you just wait until someone noticed you trying to juggle too many coffees and so much sugar you could fill a bathtub with it because that’s how you liked your coffee? Fortunately, you didn’t have to decide.

“Agent Y/L/N,” SSA Hotchner said. “I see you brought coffee.”

That was almost a smile. You knew the coffee was a good idea.

“Oh, uh...yeah. I figured, first day, right? First impressions and everything.” You started unloading your coffee when Hotchner gestured you towards a vacant desk waiting for you. “I hope nobody minds the ridiculous amount of sugar. I just didn’t know how you guys take your coffee, and I like my sugar with a side of coffee you know, so...”

You stood back, swaying awkwardly on your stilettos a little bit and trying not to let your body language cave in on itself like you wanted to. To help with your anxiety, you noticed upon turning around that everyone had swiftly crowded around you. Awkward.

“Ha, you sound like our boy genius. He puts so much sugar in his coffee it’s barely recognizable anymore.” A tall, incredibly fit black man chuckled. “I’m Morgan, by the way, but my friends call me chocolate thunder.” 

He winked. Uh...okay. Somebody swooped in to save you from that though.

“Ignore him. I’m Jennifer but everyone just calls me JJ and the coffee was a lovely gesture.” The stunning blonde leaned forward to shake your hand, but not before cutting Morgan a glare.

“Emily Prentiss.” The dark-haired, serious-looking woman gave you a smile as she shook your hand.

“SSA Rossi, pleased to meet you.” The older Italian man gave you a little smile as he shook your hand.

The truth was you already knew a little about all of them, having read through their personnel files before starting this job. Which meant you were prepared when Dr. Spencer Reid began his introduction.

“Hi, I’m-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you were already pulling hand sanitizer out of your purse and applying some of it, stopping him dead in his tracks with confusion.

“Dr. Spencer Reid. Your reputation precedes you.” Now you were in your element, a little smirk on your face and a twinkle in your eye.

Stunned, he reached forward to take your hand even as he said, “You know, hand sanitizer actually only kills-”

“Spencer, please,” JJ interrupted teasingly. “Not yet. We want to keep this one.”

You laughed, already finding it easy to fit in with this crowd. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It would take a lot more than that to scare me away.”

You winked at him, and he blushed. Oh, you were going to have fun with this one. He was cute and smart, the whole package. You’d be damned if you weren’t already a little smitten.

“Oh, there’s a new person!” A cute blonde with absolutely wild style stopped dead in her tracks, surprised to see you. “You’re the new!”

“I’m the new,” You confirmed.

“Oh, hello! I’m Penelope, and unfortunately, I come bearing bad news.”

“There’s a case baby girl?” Agent Morgan spoke up.

“Right as always my sweet, sweet Chocolate Thunder.” Ah. So that was what that was about.

Heading into the briefing room, you and Reid ended up trailing a bit behind, causing you to lean into him to whisper. “Are they a couple?”

He laughed a little bit. “No. Just best friends. That’s just how they communicate.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Nice. I like it.”

“Yeah?” He smiled.

“Yep.”

Before you got the chance to say anything more though, you were officially being briefed. You absolutely couldn’t afford to talk during your very first briefing, so you just smiled at the handsome brunet before giving all of your attention to one Penelope Garcia.

“Alright crime fighters, brace yourselves because this is a bad one, even for our standards. The images I am about to show you are to be viewed with caution and it is not advised you continue on if you are pregnant, have a heart condition or are prone to seizures. I’m going to hit the button now and one of you is going to tell me when I can look again.”

True to her word, Garcia clicked a button on the remote and then shielded her eyes. You could see why. The images on the screen were absolutely brutal. They were women, or at least you were pretty sure they were women, who had had their eyes, noses, and mouths removed. Three of them, one after the other. You liked to think you had a pretty strong stomach, but this...this was giving you the heeby jeebies. All the Scary Mary R.L. Stein nightmares you had as a kid were coming right on back now.

“That’s...really something,” You breathed quietly.

“No kidding.” You were validated in your disgust by Agent Morgan, who looked just as perturbed.

“It gets worse, kiddies,” Garcia spoke, eyes still closed. “Their limbs were all cut off, but those were left at the crime scene. The missing facial bits though, and I deeply, deeply regret having to say this, were nowhere to be found.”

“Trophies,” Rossi said.

“Most likely,” Reid agreed from where he sat next to you. “Most enucleators take the eyes as trophies, and while it’s highly unusual for other facial features to be removed, it seems logical to assume that these would also be taken as trophies, especially given the complete disregard for the rest of the body.”

Garcia hit another button, causing different, less horrifying images to come up.

“Can I look now?”

“You can look baby girl,” Morgan reassured her.

“Oh thank goodness. You know I hate that part.” Garcia continued with the case briefing, letting you know exactly where you would be flying to.

“We’ve already made contact with the Miami police department. They’ll be ready for us when we arrive. Wheel’s up in 30,” Hotch instructed.

“Okay, so the victims,” you said, wanting to voice what was on your mind. “The taking of the eyes, nose, and lips is all extremely personal. But the cutting off of the limbs and then just leaving them there says quite the opposite. Like...there’s this loathing of the body but an obsession with the face.”

JJ nodded. “Agreed. It’s oddly matter of fact too. Very business-like. Look at these cuts,” she said, pointing to the photos. “Aside from the first victim, who’s a little rougher, these are clean, precise chops. Just get it done and over with. But the face, there’s detail there.”

“Agreed,” Rossi said. “Look at those cuts. Not a single piece is missing. It’s absolutely vital to this guy that he get the whole package. The eyes are perfectly severed from the ocular nerve, a clean removal, almost surgical in precision. And the nose...he had to cut through a lot of cartilage to get that kind of clean, flat removal. Our guy has to have some kind of history in the medical field.”

“It’s likely that they symbolize a depersonalization for him,” Reid said, hands bunching as he spoke. “The taking of all of the distinguishing features of the face indicates a sense of ownership. It’s as if he’s saying, ‘Look, I’ve taken who you are. Who people know you as.’ Some believe that the Ancient Greeks used masks in their plays to cause the viewers to focus on the character’s actions, rather than their appearance. All of our victims were relatively low risk. It could be our unsub sees these women as wearing masks, but he doesn’t like the actions that correspond with the face they choose to wear, or he believes their actions do not correspond with their mask and therefore they do not deserve to wear it. This taking of the self, of the soul if you will, could be symbolic of a dissatisfaction with how these women present themselves and how that conflicts with the unsub’s view of them.”

The rest of the team did not seem nearly impressed enough by this. You, for one, were awestruck. You had read about him, of course, but that was nothing compared to the real thing. He was beautiful.

“Okay, so we’re assuming that our guy probably knows his victims,” Morgan said.

“It would make sense. It makes it easier to get close to such low-risk targets if he does know them,” you said.

“You have a point,” Rossi said.

“Alright, well, first we need to determine whether or not our unsub is in the medical field or not. Y/L/N, Reid, head to the M.E.’s and find out what you can about the bodies. Morgan and Prentiss, you’ll head to where they found the last body, and...” Hotch continued dolling out assignments, and before you knew it, you were there.

“The media are already calling him the Face Thief,” the Miami PD chief told Hotch.

“Oh, that’s original,” you grumbled.

“Well, it does its job. People around here are terrified. This is like something straight out of everyone’s worst nightmares.”

Hotch nodded. “Well, don’t worry. My team and I plan on catching this guy as quickly as we can.”

Speaking of which, you and Reid needed to go talk to their M.E. Now, what did a girl have to do to get a dead body around here?

Spencer seemed to know his way around pretty well, probably having memorized the layout of the police station on the plane or something, and so you followed his lead.

“I take it you know where we’re going?”

“Yeah. Been here a few times before,” he said.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?”

He paused in the hallway. “No. This is some pretty intense stuff. And while I can’t exactly say it’s not like this all the time, well...”

“It’s not like this all the time,” you finished for him.

“Yeah, exactly.” He laughed a little bit. “So, you’re kind of young to be in the BAU already.”

It wasn’t a rude question. From anyone else, it might have been, but you could tell he was just curious. Plus you happened to know he was a child prodigy, and therefore was in no place to judge.

“Yeah, well, don’t make any mistakes. It took me forever and a day to get here. I just skipped a couple years of high school, fast-tracked my college education, that’s all.”

Spencer nodded. “I read your file. You finished your Bachelor’s in a year and a half, joined the FBI at 19 and gained your doctorate while working for the bureau. That’s pretty impressive.”

You smiled wryly. “Oh, you can’t fool me Dr. Reid. I’ve read your file too, you know. Now you, you are quite impressive.”

The man before you blushed beet red, stammering out something that sounded like the beginnings of an excuse, but fortunately for him you both found yourself in the presence of the M.E. before he had to come up with anything more than, “Well, I don’t know I-I mean-”

“Dr. Reid. Dr. Y/L/N. Let’s get right to it. This guy does some neat work, but he’s no doctor.”

“Really?” You asked, fascinated.

“Yep. Look at these cuts here around the mouth. They’re jagged. There are hesitation marks. Not because of inexperience with the action, but lack of expertise. You can see the same marks around the nose and eyes. And, I’m sorry to say, all of this was done anti-mortem, which did not make his job any easier.”

“He’s a sadist, then,” you deduced. “He gets off on their pain.”

The M.E. nodded before continuing.

“He started with the eyes, which I hate to admit is smart since those are the easiest part to remove wholesale, which seems to be this guy's trademark. After that, the victim usually passes out and dies from blood loss, which makes the rest of his job easier. But if you look closely you can see these aren’t surgical cuts. The only precision here stems from a purely obsessive desire to get things right. It’s good work for an amateur, but it’s just that, amateur,” she said.

“And the limbs?” Dr. Reid asked.

“Well, I can tell you a little bit more about those, since we still have them. They were cut off post-mortem, and it was a pretty quick job. It looks like it was done with some sort of power tool. There’s no beauty to those, and there’s no attempt to make it look pretty. And yes, the torsos do show signs of sexual assault. Additionally, it looks like he knocked his victims out first to incapacitate them before taking them to a secondary location and waiting for them to regain consciousness before beginning his..process.”

“I guess we can tick the sexual box in the sexual sadist checklist.” You sighed.

Reid nodded, leaning forward to more closely examine the nature of the cuts and the body.

“Okay,” you said, thinking out loud. “I’m the victim. You’ve got me tied up and you’re about to remove my eyes. I’m doing a lot of screaming. You scoop my eyes out. Here’s what I’m wondering. Why not start with the nose? If he’s a sadist, wouldn’t he want to like...see the look in their eyes or something sick like that?”

Spencer hummed thoughtfully. “It’s possible it’s an act of remorse, but that seems unlikely given the other details of this case.”

You thanked the M.E. before heading back out, but you stopped Reid in the hallway.

“Okay, indulge me. Let’s play this out. You’re the unsub and I’m the victim,” you said, leaning up against the wall and gesturing for him to get all in your business. “Okay, so you’re looking at me, and what are you thinking.”

Spencer stared at you, and you thought you caught the sharp bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, but you brushed it aside. He took a step closer, fingers brushing across your cheekbones as he stared at you thoughtfully. For your part, you tried not to let your heart race, because you had sincerely not thought about how attractive the good doctor was before signing up for this experience.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “The eyes are the most expressive. But...maybe that’s what he values about them. They’re so beautiful.”

It was your turn to swallow hard. That felt deliciously personal, but you were trying not to read too much into it. His brow furrowed, expression changing.

“Maybe that’s it. This is more about the eyes than the whole face. The eyes take precedent because, if he’s removing the face to capture their essence somehow, what are eyes said to be the window to?”

You grinned. “The soul.”

“Exactly.” He smiled back at you, and you must have forgotten to put a dryer sheet in with your laundry because you swear you felt static electricity crackling up your spine.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, but then you snapped out of it. 

“We have to go tell Hotch!”

It was true that the eyes were the window to the soul, and they were the window to this guy’s soul too. Garcia had gone on the prowl for medical school rejects, people who watched too many YouTube videos about surgery without being nursing majors, and otherwise normal folks who just owned way, way too many scalpels. Before you knew it, you had a prime suspect. And uh, tip? If you ever decide to be a serial killer, try not to kill the people you openly have vendettas against. It makes you really easy to catch. So actually, you know what, go for it.

“I can’t believe this guy ran a whole blog based off of the people in his neighborhood he hates,” you said.

“A whole blog positively riddled with face fetishizing symbolism. This guy could go on for weeks about the masks people wear and how our eyes show who we truly are and blah blah blah,” Emily mocked.

You were in the car on the way to his address. Another girl had been reported missing, and you were praying you wouldn’t be too late to find her. 

As it turned out, you weren’t. In a stroke of good luck, you arrived just in time to save the day. You and Spencer ended up going in together, Spencer taking the lead in talking this guy down. You couldn’t help but admire the way he did it. It was like art, watching him. The careful way he played right into the fantasy, eased the unsub into trusting him. Masterful, right up until the moment he cuffed the guy and the show was over.

On the plane ride back to Quantico, you found yourself sitting next to him. “How do you do it?” 

“Do what?” He asked, confused.

“Play into their fantasies so well. Doesn’t that...I don’t know, mess with your head?”

He became quiet for a moment, and his face fell. You worried that you had said the wrong thing. Crossed a line.

“Yeah. It uh...it takes a toll on you, definitely. Some days, working this job, you’ll be afraid of your own mind,” he admitted quietly.

You didn’t totally know why you leaned into his side on the small couch, other than sheer sympathy. You didn’t totally know why he let you.

“Spenc-Reid,” you corrected yourself. “Do you think the people we deal with are evil? Do you think they ever stood a chance?”

“I ask myself that question a lot,” he said softly. “So many of the people we see behave the way they do as a result of trauma of some kind. That doesn’t excuse their actions by any means, but...it makes you wonder. What if things had been different? How many more people would be alive today? How many more brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, daughters, sons? It’s a ruthless cycle. And all because someone didn’t have anything good in their life, and so they passed that down to someone else. So...I don’t know.”

“Do you think it’s better not to think about it?”

“No. I think it’s important for our jobs to at least try to understand. Besides, it’s human nature to try to make sense of things. Even when it’s hard.” He stared at his hands, head hung low.

“You should get some sleep. Clear your head,” you said gently. “I’ll wake you up before we land.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Just as he settled in, he lifted his head one more time to speak to you. “Y/L/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Great work today.”

“Thanks, Reid. You too.”

Dr. Reid was smiling when he fell asleep.

“Darkness is the absence of light: when there is no light, there is darkness. Light is an existing thing, but darkness is nonexistent.”

- ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds:ff

[themadlostgirl]

NDY AU (5)

*hey. hey kid. you want some angst? too bad. you’re getting some.*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hm?” I buried my head further into my pillow, it feels a lot stiffer this morning. I stayed up way too late last night.

“Wake up! You’re not skipping school again today!”

“Shut it…” My pillow grumbled.

Wait. I bolted upright as last night came flooding back. Peter is in my bed! He never left last night! Shit!

“Sweetie? You okay?” Dad’s voice called through the door, “You sound hoarse.”

“Uh…” I looked to Peter who was now wide awake too and just as panicked. I pretended to cough really loudly, “Sorry, morning voice, I need some water.”

“Okay...can you unlock the door? Your mom needs to iron your uniform still.”

“Yep, one sec.” I looked back at Peter and he gave a huge roll of his eyes before sliding underneath the bed once more. I unlocked the door and shoved my uniform into dad’s hands. “Thanks, dad.”

“Thanks...are you sure you feel alright? You’re acting very squirrely today.”

“Yeah. Totally. Perfectly fine. Just a little dazed cause I was up late last night reading.”

“I know you’re young and can somehow function on less sleep than a normal human but that doesn’t mean you should. Go to bed at a decent time.” He took my uniform and went down the hall.

I closed the door and Peter poked his head out from underneath my bed. “I think that went well.”

“What are you still doing here? You were supposed to leave last night!”

“You made it very hard to want to leave, pet.” He winked, “But in all seriousness what are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know.” I flopped back on the bed, “This is so bad.”

“I can try absconding out the window.”

“Yeah, until one of the neighbors sees and calls my parents.” I wracked my brain for ideas. “Just stay hidden in here until my parents leave for work and then sneak out through the back door. No one will know that way.”

“Or, I could stroll downstairs and we lay out the whole ugly truth to your parents. Hash things out over some breakfast. I’m sure they’ll come around after knowing I was asleep in your bed all night and hiding under it when they were still awake.”

“You are such an asshole. Remind me again why I like you.”

“Cause I’m adorable and a great kisser.” he smirked. “Speaking of,” he pulled me in for soft kiss.

“Morning breath aside that was kinda sweet,” I strolled into the bathroom and started freshening up. I also had to change into my uniform in there because despite Peter’s assurances that he wouldn’t peek I was not going to strip with him in the room.

I made him promise to not go through my stuff and to high tail it to school as soon as he could after he did leave. With a quick goodbye kiss I was on my way to school. True to his word Peter showed up at school, albeit a little late.

In the weeks to follow things between Peter and I found a routine. Since I worked all the time and my parents didn’t want me around him during my little free time we had to hang out almost exclusively at school. Plus side, we did get to see each other and Peter was slowly getting moved to regular classes since he was actually attending school. Downside was that it was school! We did what we could but it was spoiled slightly by the background of teenage stress and boys using excess amounts of deodorant in lieu of a shower. Aside from that it was nice. He walked me to class even if it was out of his way, he switched lunches to eat with me, and after some time his schedule included some classes I was in.

Not that we only hung out at school. I grew a backbone and started saying no to some babysitting gigs so I had more free time. My parents thought it was for a book club I joined. What really happened was hikes through the forest, walking along the beach, watching movies out in the trailer, and study dates at the school library. I only invited him back to the house once and that was to taste test some brownies I had made for a bake sale.

We were snuggled in the trailer on a dreary day having a horror movie marathon. I wanted to punch Peter for talking me into this. It wasn’t even like they were the bad kinda horror movies that were more funny than terrifying. No. This asshole had us watching shit like Nightmare on Elm Street and The Exorcist. I was going to have such paranoia falling asleep tonight.

“Is there a reason you’re making me suffer through this?” I asked Peter. My eyes were shielded behind my hands as more gore and disturbing imagery filled the small screen.

“Because these are classic films that you should see and it makes you cuddle into me anytime anything remotely scary appears on screen.” I could practically feel the smirk he had on his face.

“You, sir, are a conniving little shit.” I pouted.

“And you, my lady, are adorable when you’re scared.”

“So you like seeing me scared?”

“Only when it gets you to bury your face in my chest like I am the biggest, strongest, sexiest stuffed animal that ever lived.” he gave me a quick peck.

“Y’know, if everyone at school knew how big a dork you really are you’d probably get in less fights.” I poked at a bruise he had on his arm. “Or maybe more, I don’t know.”

“He slapped your ass! Was I supposed to just let that shit slide?”

“Okay, maybe not that one, but what about all the other fights?” I asked, “Like that time you came to school with a busted lip? What about that huge bruise on your back I found when I hugged you too hard? The sprained wrist?”

“Incidental occurrences, I assure you.”

“No more fighting? Okay?”

“Okay.” he gave me another kiss on my forehead, “No more fights. Not unless they deserve it.”

“That’s the best I’m gonna get out of you isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take it. Now can we please turn off the scary movies and just make-out or something?”

“Done.” he turned off the movie and pulled me on top of him. My laugh was swallowed by the press of his mouth against mine.

“Peter, wait,” I pulled away. “I gotta ask you something.”

He rolled his eyes and started kissing at my neck, “Continue, but I get to keep kissing you.”

“So you know why you can’t come over to my house but is there a reason you’ve never invited me to your place?”

At this Peter stopped. Not only stopped but pulled away completely. “Peter?”

“My place isn’t great. You wouldn’t want to see it. Drafty, messy, terrible wi-fi.”

“Peter…”

“Can we go back to kissing?”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” I held his face gently, “You can talk to me, Peter. That’s part of what girlfriends do.”

He smiled at me, cupping my chin in his hand. “The only thing I need to tell you is that you are the best thing in my life. You are.”

He wasn’t up for this and I don’t want to pry. He’ll tell me in his own time. If there is something to tell. I could be reading too much into this. So I kissed him and left the situation for the future to sort out.

After a while Peter walked me back into town. He would have walked me to the house if it wasn’t for the fact that my parents were definitely home.

Later that night I was settled in my bed fast asleep. It took me a while to get to that point since the horror movies had gotten me all jittery. Every shadow and creak of the house had me jumping out of my skin. I hoped that I would get some peace after I fell asleep but it was not to be. One horrible nightmare of being chased by some Freddy Krueger/Alien manifestation had me bolting upright with a scream trapped in my throat.

I was shaking horribly and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I reached for my inhaler before my hand wrapped around my phone. I was dialing Peter’s number before I could even get a fraction calmed down.

He picked up after two rings, his voice groggy but it was there. “Hey, pet, what’s up?” He yawned, “Is this some late night booty call or…”

“Peter…” I couldn’t keep the tremble out of my voice.

“Y/N,” he sounded more alert, “Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I just--I was--” I took a deep breath, “Nightmare...it was stupid. I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

“No. Not stupid. The nightmare is the stupid one here.” his voice was low and soothing, “Take a deep breath, precious. What do you need? Do you want to talk about it or be distracted from it?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice.” I admitted, “Talk to me, please.”

“If you wish it, pet.” he went on and on talking about dumb small things. Whispering comforting words over the phone until my eyes grew heavy once again.

“Peter?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” I was much calmer now. The nightmare was leagues away, replaced with images of a sleepy Peter with his bedhead. If I closed my eyes I could pretend he was next to me in bed. I wish he was really here. Then I’d know the nightmare could never touch me.

“No need to thank me, pet. I’ll always be here for you. Day or night.”

“I didn’t say it back at the trailer but I should now.” I closed my eyes as the need for sleep became more pressing. “You are the best part of my life. I know we’ve only been dating for a short while but it feels so much longer. Like I’ve known you all my life.”

“I feel the same way.”

“Thanks for staying up with me.”

“Day or night, pet. Day or night.”

“Right.” I yawned, “Goodnight, Peter. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, pet. Sleep tight.”

The call ended and I fell back asleep. I had no dreams but I could feel a warm cocoon surrounding me, protecting me from any that dare try to enter my peaceful sleep. It smelled like forest.

(1) (2) (3) (4) (6)

#peter pan ouat #ouat peter pan #ouat #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

[glitterandrocketfuel]

YBC Hot Takes: Alone Together

Part 3 in this month’s Peterick Institute for Flexible Metallurgical Haberdashery is under way! Today’s discussion takes on Part 4 of the Youngblood Chronicles, viewed through the lens of Patrick’s solo career during the hiatus.

Alone Together - Alone in the Dark. Without You, I’m Just Me.

The vixens hand off the briefcase to the mystery woman in the RATATAT limo, passing Patrick's solo career into the hands of the music industry. Patrick's solo career makes its way out into the world, and into the hands of people who are ready to see this strange musical dreamer from a band that never quite fit into expectations or did the right thing be taken down a peg, made to fit in someplace where he can be marketed and controlled and served up at the pleasure of the forces that profit from creativity rather than create it. 

In hiatus terms, each of the boys is going through their own personal hellscape. Joe's sense of humor (though underrepresented in media interviews, Joe's always had a killer sense of humor) deserted him in the darker times of hiatus-ville. Plus, humor comes from pain. Andy's forced to hear corporate-pablum music and face TeeVee with someone who looks like the quintessential PR person "image consultant." Basically the worst version of "suddenly I have nothing to do all day but watch TV" ever.

And Pete, well, we all know Pete's relationship with the paparazzi is one that is complex and painful. He knows exactly how to mug for the cameras and use it to his advantage, but damned if he doesn't bleed for it, and does it ever change him. Fame changes you and Celebrity can turn you into a weapon towards its own ends as you're driven to do more and more outrageous things for the spotlight while having less and less control over your own image and narrative. And lest we forget, deep cuts can be made in 140 characters or less. Hiatus!Pete was known to make some thoughtless tweets regarding the band's status that cut them like, oh, a hook cuts through a vixen, and Patrick, without the shield of the Pete Wentz Celebrity Show, is about to experience the full thrust of social media and celebrity all alone (while Pete is in his own separate media hell).

But while each of these scenarios shows the boys grappling with their own individual nightmares, there's another level of interpretation: The other band members are all aspects of Patrick's solo career.

Andy represents Patrick's artistic integrity (much in the way Andy is the true north for the band). He's under attack by consumption and pretension, the "selling out" aspect that wants to package and make palatable and soften and distort and produce by committee (all the things that Patrick's grappled with in his controlling professional nature). The label doesn't quite know what to do with him, how to package him. They would love nothing more than to leverage his Fall Out Boy fame, but Patrick Stump, Soul Punk is not an outgrowth of that, it's a departure from it. But he's also a little (blonde, pale, white) guy in a suit and a bow tie who's aligning musically with hip-hop, soul, R&B, rap, and synth-pop that they just don't know how to sell.

Joe is Patrick's playfulness, his creative compass. After all, it is Patrick and Joe who were both kids when they started on the whole crazy ride. Joe put the band together and where Pete pushes Patrick to stretch his limits, Joe leads him in more subtle ways. Joe is under attack by fickle, fickle youth. The "kids" who catapulted Fall Out Boy into stardom are the same ones who tossed accusations about them selling out when they changed up their sound or started playing bigger venues.

Even as far back as IOH, Pete played with the concepts of aging out of "the scene" and the implications of their changing fame on their sound (nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy when you've gone platinum). And those same "kids" (the fact that they're little girls dressed up and made up like young vixens is another layer altogether, commenting on the changing music scene and how we're commercializing 'em younger and younger but I digress...) are the ones who are simultaneously embracing Patrick at shows and in tweets...and excoriating him the same way for not staying the same.

Pete is the Spotlight, shining harsh and violent on an alone-on-stage Patrick who doesn't have a band to hide behind or stand with him when he's a solo artist. The frontman antics and media scrutiny, the gauntlet of interviews Patrick has always been able to slide into Pete's inbox or avoid in favor of being one of two or three or four where he could count on Pete taking the lead all rest solely on Patrick's shoulders now. Not all these things are bad--Patrick on stage as frontman, doing his own thing and coming out from behind the shell of his awkward youth, is the stuff vixens dream about at night.

But while Patrick has learned to do it, he's not learned to master it the way Pete has--not had a baptism of fire, so to speak. He can perform being a performer, but he can't tame and direct and hack the attention the way Pete can. The celebrity rides him, not the other way around.

The sexual overtones of Pete being on display are significant here, both for Pete as Pete and for Pete-as-Patrick. Without Pete being the "heartthrob" of the band, all the sexualized attention is turned onto Patrick alone and if you're not born to it, it turns on you in a heartbeat.

Patrick, pushing his solo career, plays in the hallowed halls of venues every night, but whatever the realities are, his ears start to hear more and more of the critics. For the first time, he's doing this without a Pete Wentz Patented Safety Net.

He's slimmed down, glammed up, dressed up, sexed up in the spotlight, his music unrestrained by a pre-defined "sound" of Fall Out Boy that he must remain faithful to. But without the Pete-Buffer he stands alone and all his ears can hear are the critics. The tapes are on loop, playing "we liked you better fat," and "go back to Fall Out Boy."

Pete racing through the halls, pursued with murderous intent by the vixens who so recently wanted sexytimes, is Patrick flailing between the broom closet of his past with Fall Out Boy and punk, and his present as an outsider in hip-hop (y halo thar, Big Sean). The halls are a maze, and Patrick's front-facing persona is only reunited with himself after the critical voices have laid their poison.

Cruel reviews, selfish reactions from fans who don't want him to change or strike out on his own. Sinister whispers designed to break him down and manipulate him back into staying in the lane that the media and the public have already assigned to him--either go back to Fall Out Boy or stay in the same musical lane.

Or the really scary option of having to be a nostalgia/reunion band that does nothing but replay its old glories over and over again or desperately attempts to try and re-create the same thing again and again. Missing the mark each time because the magic never stays the same. Tap-dancing harder and faster for half the thrill each time and never be able to move forward or move on.

In the end, though, Pete finds Patrick in the befouled sacred space of music and does his best to patch him back together by providing the hook. But it's not a hand, it's not the vital connection to the band that makes him whole, it's a weapon. A crude one, only good for lashing out and hurting, and already test-driven by Pete himself.

Pete, who has done this before--had his guts opened up and his innards dissected by the media and gossip mills which thrive on consuming intimate, personal experiences and regurgitating them in carnival fun-house distortion back into the public eye--and conquered it in his own way as best as he could.

Patrick's public-facing self reunites with him, but the damage has been done both internally in the music space and externally, leaving him broken and un-whole. Instead of the talented hand and crafty fingers, he's got a clumsy weapon, good only for destroying what came before.

#peterick institute #ybc meta #ybc hot take

[afaithy]

A crinkle of Fate; CH:7

Available in AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/16896918/chapters/39941508#workskin

Chapter 7: What you want, what you fearNotes:

"Most people are always doubtful as to whether they are happy or not, cheerful or not. This is the normal state of happiness, as doubt is a most natural thing." — Yukio Mishima

Tonks return was accompanied- as expected - by endless gossips and whispers that the girl, very maturely, had chosen to ignore. Boreas and his gang had tried to harassed her again, but their attempts were either stopped by a teacher or by Sirius and James’s mischieves and she was more than grateful for it. Even though she knew Boreas was a git and that she should know better than to hear what he had to say, it didn't make his remarks about her grandparents' death sting any less. The Hufflepuff girl started avoiding the Great Hall and her Common room as much as she could, so most of her free time was spent in the library with Lily or Snape who-surprisingly - had kindly offered to help her catch up with the potions lessons she had missed; or in the owlery with Lupin who would either help her study or distract her with some friendly chat. Sometimes they enjoyed of the occasional company of Sirius, James and Peter. As day went by, the girl noticed that the veil of grief was slowly lifting and little by little, Tonks returned to her old cheerful self and things went back to how they used to be. Well, at least most of them. Tonks seemed to have caused an impact on certain Hogwarts students after all. The first one was Snape. The Slytherin potions prodigy was as irritable as always, but Tonks constant insistence to befriend him seemed to be paying off. The boy was less bitter and slightly more talkative; and, in very rare occasions, he’d even smile. When it come to his rivalry with James and Sirius, the three boys seemed to have reached some sort of truce. After an impressive and a little scary scold from Tonks, James and Sirius had stopped picking on Snape and Snape had stopped being rude to them. Their friendship was complicated, but it was there and that seemed to satisfy Tonks. Peter wasn’t much of an active speaker and he limited himself to follow anything that James and Sirius decided to do. Among the four Gryffindors, the one who seemed to have the best accord with the Slytherin, was Lupin. Perhaps it was his good nature or the fact that Tonks influence had already biased his image of Snape, but in many occasions he found himself having very enriching conversations with the black haired boy. As their relationship with Snape improved, the second change came up with Lily. The girl was elated about Snape having more friends and as result her, usual cold treatment to James and Sirius, was lifted - much to Jame’s pleasure. After a few weeks, the picture of five Gryffindors, a Slytherin and a first year Hufflepuff hanging around Hogwarts during free periods became a common sight. The months passed and the season began to change as autumn reached it peak. There was a little secret that Lupin hadn’t revealed to any of his friends yet. Each full moon, his wolf counterpart would sit under the moon listening to a cheerful Hufflepuff girl relate the stories of her friends’ adventures. Lupin felt a little guilty about keeping it secret. Especially when there was his fear that one day the wolf would be in bad mood and would try to bite Tonks, but as one full moon passed after another, he realized something that’d left him speechless. His wolf counterpart liked Tonks. He couldn’t comprehend those animal’s feelings, but he could tell that the wolf saw Tonks in a particular way. It didn’t consider her a threat, in the contrary, it seemed to enjoy the girl’s company. It was sort of possessive and protective of her to the extreme in which the wolf was willing to kill anything or anyone that could impose a danger for her. It was something he’d never heard about, and even after digging into all the books about werewolves available in the library, he’d come out without answers. No one had ever seen a case in which a werewolf would feel the urge to attack. Werewolves obeyed instinct and their human mind was completely disconnected from their actions after the transformation. Then why did the wolf seemed to retain Lupin’s sympathy for the Hufflepuff girl? “Wotcher, Remus!” Lupin had been too lost in his thoughts to notice the girl’s arrival. He was sitting at the edge of the window in the owlery with a book open on his lap. Sirius and James had probably gotten themselves into detention after setting a up Boreas’s cauldron during potions causing it to explode and Peter had been sprayed all over with the cauldron’s content, so he had ended up in the hospital wing. Being the only one with free time, Lupin had caught into Tonks’s habit to sneak into the owlery for peace and quiet. Tonks was looking at him with a smile. She sat in front of him and for a second he feared that the girl would lose her grip and fall through the window, but surprisingly she sat down without troubles and threw a small silver package. “What’s…?” “Muggle chocolate…” she replied “Dad sent me a whole box yesterday. You’ve been up into werewolf reading recently, haven’t you?” “Eh...yeah. I was curious about something…” “About werewolves?” “Yes…” “Can I ask what?” Lupin snorted. How about why I don’t feel like I need to tear down your throat when I’m a wolf? He though. “It’s...complicated.” “Try me…” she said biting her chocolate. “Do you think a werewolf could...I don’t know recognize people or feel some sort of attachment to them?” Lupin knew it was a stupid question. Wizards that were well educated regarding werewolves had never addressed this possibility, why would an first year student in Hogwarts even think about it? “I reckon he could…” she said thoughtful. Her answer came out naturally and without doubts. It was the way she always said what she thought without fear that made him admire her. “But...werewolves are tagged as monsters, and books all say that they are unable to recognize friend or foe. They only instinct is to attack and to prey…” “Books also say Unicorns don’t exist…” Lupin chuckled. “No book would say that. We all know unicorn exists... What kind of book were you reading?” “A muggle book...” Tonks shrugged “But that’s the point. To muggles it doesn’t exist because they’d never seen one, but to us it exists because we have seen them. Do you see my point?” “I am afraid no…” “What’s written in books is what the writer has seen, but just because you haven’t seen doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Werewolves aren’t too different from wolves, and wolves aren’t too different from dogs. So...if you ask me if I think that a werewolf could recognize people they like or dislike, and even feel attachment...I’d have to say I think they do…” “So… let’s put an hypothetical case…” “Aha…” Tonks replied eating another piece of chocolate. “Let’s say there’s a werewolf that hunts around the forest during full moon. One day he stumbles with a girl...an innocent and defenceless girl. His first intention is to attack, but the girl starts talking to him and his aggressive intent seems to die away. Next full moon it’s the same, and then the one after and so on. It continues like that and suddenly his human side realizes that the wolf….likes the girl.” Tonks seemed to replay Lupin’s tale in her mind and she smiles. “Don’t you have the answer already, then?” “What do you mean?” “That hypothetical case just serves to proof my point. Yeah, the werewolf was probably afraid at first...he wanted to attack, but when he saw she was harmless he let it go. It was like that for a while, and eventually, they’d become friends. It might sound wrong, but it’s like having a dog. The dog will idolize, not because you’re a human, but because you’re his master…” “But it is dangerous…” “Everything is dangerous, Remus. I’m probably more dangerous than a scared werewolf…” she chuckled “Don’t forget I almost broke your leg when I tripped over you on the stairs…” Lupin laughed at that. She had and Madam Pomfrey wasn’t too happy about it. “Even a werewolf deserves love…” Tonks whispered. “Even if it is a hideous and horrible monster?” Tonks looked at him with a faint smile. “Even the most hideous creature deserves a chance…” Lupin was speechless. Sometimes he wondered if Tonks was real at all. How could she be so...understanding? “Who said?” he asked her softly. “I did...and in a few years when I’m all famous and quoted around the world, you’ll have the honor of saying that you heard it one afternoon while you were sharing muggle chocolate in the owlery…” she laughed throwing small ball of wrapping paper at him. Lupin dodged the ball by using his book as a shield and let out a wave laughter. His concerns about the dangers that the wolf could represent to the girl were still there, but a new feeling had appeared with her words: hope. Hope that perhaps what Tonks believed was true and that he wasn’t the monster that he thought himself to be. “I don’t know how you do it…” he chuckled. “Do what?” “See things so...clearly.” “Ha..If only I did. I just have a funny way of seeing things I guess…” she smiled “Second looks aren’t as bad as people think, aren’t they? Lily said that you and Severus were practicing potions together yesterday…” Tonks rested her chin on her hand and blinked at him with dreamy smile. It was an expression that he had come to understand as her way of, nonverbally, saying: I was right, wasn’t I? “He was kind enough to help me out with a cleaning potions that was giving me troubles…” Lupin nodded “I was actually surprised that he agreed to help…” “Well, you earned his good favors. I heard you’ve been coaxing SIrius and James to leave him alone…” “I...have tried, but I doubt it was my influence that has persuaded those two…” Lupin chuckled “I’d think a certain Hufflepuff scold was the real reason…” “Oh….haha, never saw James and Sirius so scared, have you?” “Remind me never to make you angry…” “Remus...please. You’re the sweetest thing in the world how could you ever make me angry at you?” Lupin felt his cheeks blush at her unintended compliment, but Tonks had been busy petting her owl to notice. The boy rested his chin on his hand as his green eyes stared at the girl in front of him with a smile.

*** “She what…?” Sirius said coughing up the juice he’d been drinking. James jumped to his bed and bagan pattin his friend’s back amused. Lupin had just told his friends about his unintended meetings with Tonks during the full moons and the boys had taken the news better than he’d anticipated. “Easy there Pads...don’t drown yourself…” James laughed. “She petted you?” Sirius was astonished “What the bloody hell? WHat normal person goes and pets a random werewolf so freely?” “She thinks it is a wolf…” Lupin reasoned. “So what? Wolves can bite too. Merlin, that girl deserves my respect…” Sirius barked in a laugh “Here we are...breaking our necks trying to figure out all the animagus thing, and she goes in all her grace and has you eating from her palm like a pup…” Lupin glared at Sirius half heartedly. He’d hate to admit that perhaps Sirius was right. “I got to visit, Andromeda and ask her how she raised that girl...and then I’ll have to thank her…” “She’s...something else…” Lupin sighed sitting back on his bed. “Somebody who treats a werewolf as a dog and actually befriends Snivellus…” James smiled “Yeah, she has to be out this world.” “She’s wonderful...but it is dangerous. I can’t trust that the wolf won’t bite her…” “He hasn’t so far, has he…” “Werewolf can’t be trusted…” Lupin said shaking his head “I…” “So what are you going to do?” Peter asked “She’s ...well hard to control…” Hard to control wasn’t quite the word that Remus would have chosen, but if his fuzzy memories weren’t wrong, Tonks was definitely fond of the wolf and stubborn as she was, she wouldn’t let go that easily. Lupin couldn’t help, smile. Besides, how was he supposed to tell her that he knew about her night strolls under the moon?And there was also that conflicting part of him that didn’t want her to stop visiting him in the full moons. “Are you telling her the wolf is...you, mate?” James asked. “I...don’t know. I should...shouldn’t I?” “I’d say you wait for a bit…”Sirius said. “Yeah, no rush…” James agreed. Lupin sighed. He had never felt this conflicted in his short life. A part of him felt the usual horror that revealing his secret usually carried. The fear of rejection; but the other told him that with Tonks, it’d be alright. A tiny voice in his head keep assuring him that no matter what he was, Tonks would always be willing to accept him. “By the way. What about detention?” Lupin asked with a raised eyebrow. Sirius and James exchanged looks and broke into laughter. “You wouldn’t believe it…” Sirius said. “Snivellus saved our necks…” “Snape?” “Yeah, he persuaded Slughorn that the Cauldron incident was due to ...how did he say it?” “Boreas evident inability to follow proper instructions regarding the proper order of addition of ingredients and stirring…” James said solemnly “Slughorn totally bought it, so we were spared from detention…” “I think I might be going nuts, but maybe...maybe Snivellus is starting to grow on me…” “I hate to say it...but...I think I am too…” James said dramatically before breaking into a laugh. Lupin rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle. Tonks was probably totally clueless of the impact she’d had in their lives, but he was grateful about that.

*** Bellatrix bursted into the halls of Malfoy Manor ignoring the many glances from her fellow Death Eaters as she made her way into the inner chamber. She pushed the doors open with her wand and looked around with her dark eyes. A man with long silvery blond hair stood a few steps from her. His clear eyes judging and arrogant. The witch let out a snort as she recognized the man who had been courting her youngest sister the past few months. “Modest as usual, Bellatrix…” Lucius said with frown. Bellatrix glared at the man. If it wasn’t for Narcissa’s sake, she would have hexed the man right away. “Now, now...my dear Lucius. Let us not admonish, dear Bellatrix …” a voice said from one of the room’s largest seats. “My lord…” Bellatrix rushed to the feet of the of the chair and stares up at its occupant with adoration. Voldemort caressed her head in a way that resembled a father caressing his favorite child. Bellatrix picked one of his hands and brought it to her lips. “You’ve been busy, Bellatrix.” “My lord, I did as you commanded. I’ve sent a message to all those blood traitors out there…” “Oh, yes. I’ve seen…” Voldemort nodded in approvement “A clever way to send a message. You never disappoint me. It was a very careful pick, was it not?” Bellatrix smiled as she took pride on Voldemort’s words. She raised to her feet with a cruel smile. “It’s been a while since I sent a present to my dear sister. I thought I could use the occasion to send her my best regards…” “Ah...no doubt she received a surprise…”Voldemort said in a soft sizz as a large snake began climbing around his shoulders “Have you found what I instructed, Lucius?” “I am afraid not, my Lord…” Lucius said softly “The...creature is harder to find than we anticipated.” “I see…” “With all due respect, my lord. Why are you so interested in this….creature?” “Have you ever heard about Nyaphes, Lucius?” “I...I am afraid not, my Lord.” “Marvelous creatures. Elementals, as some wizards calls them. Powerful to the point of divinity. It is said that the apparition of a Nyaphes is an omen of change. They have the power to warp time, give and take lives…” “That...sounds intriguing, my lord.” “Intriguing? Ah yes….of course. Unfortunately, Nyaphes are scarce, very rare to find. They’re smart creatures, you see? But they’re powerful...very powerful. No one has seen one in centuries…” “My lord, if that’s the case...uh, is there really a chance for us to find one?” “Ah...always the questioner, Lucius…” Voldemort reply with a hoarse chuckle “There’s the case. A Nyaphes was seen here in England some years ago… eleven years to be more precise...” “Eleven years is a long time, my lord. How can we be sure that the creature is still here…” “Oh, it is...No doubt it is.” Voldemort said petting his snake’s head “I’ve spoken to the seers. Nyaphe’s only shows themselves when they bestow a blessing and they’re quite protective. They will remain close to the one who receives it…” “So...if we find the blessed, we should find the creature…” Bellatrix stated with a smile “Do you know who it is, my Lord? I’d be delighted to bring him or her to your presence.” “I’m afraid not, my dear Bellatrix. Not doubt the person with show up eventually, but if we find the Nyaphe’s first, it won’t matter.” “My lord, if may ask. What do you want this...creature for?” Lucius asked. “You dare question, our Lord’s plans?” Bellatrix snapped at him. “Of course not. Never...but I am curious of what could have caught our lords attention.” “Ah, Lucius. So young and ignorant. Nyaphes are powerful, with one under you control you can cause hurricanes and earthquakes, or maybe something more simple like changing events in history. Do you understand how a valuable tool it is? ”

Lucius said nothing. The power to change the events of history. Was that even possible? How powerful could those creatures be?

“I understand, my Lord. I shall intensify the search…” “I’ll leave it to you, Lucius. Do not disappoint me. Now Bellatrix...I have another task for you… “Your wish is my command, my lord.” Voldemort’s pale factions wrinkled in a cold smile. His plan was set and soon, nothing would be able to stop it.

*** Tonks woke up for a nightmare. Her room in the Hufflepuff tower was dark and chilly. She could hear the faint sound of breathing from her roomates as they slept tranquil and oblivious to night horrors; but Tonks isn’t. She cleans up the drops of sweat from her face and slipped in to her shoes and robes. It was a recurrent dream. She’d had it since she was young; at the time she’d sneak to her parents room where her mum hug her telling her it was just a dream and her father would made her some hot cocoa. Thousand times better than draught of peace. He would say and her dreams would vanish with the comfort of her parents. But here in Hogwarts, she was alone. It wasn’t exactly a nightmare, now that she thought of it, it was more like a unnerving dream. It had no sense or plot, only random images from people she felt familiar, but could not quite recognize. Then there was the wave of feelings the images carried: fear, pain, sadness. Sometimes it was just too much to take. Tonks slipped out from the tower and walked down to the lower levels. Perhaps a stroll in the night and some fresh air would make her feel better. Lost in her thoughts, she missed the last two steps from the stairs crashed loudly against something warm. “Merlin’s sake, Nymphadora. Watch where you’re going!” She recognized the annoyed voice. She raised her face and found Snape’s pale face staring at her in annoyance. He was sitting on the ground after she had dragged him in her fall, a bag lying a few steps from him. “Don’t call me Nymphadora…” she said annoyed “What are you doing up so late?” “I should be the one asking you that…” “I asked first…” Snape had long learned to not argue with the girl. Instead he pushed himself up and patted of the dust from his clothes. “I offered to help professor Slughorn gather ingredients for his next class. I was heading to meet him…” “At this hour?” “We are picking Moonbloom flowers...they…” “Bloom around midnight...right. That makes sense…” Snape frowned at her as he turned to walke away. “Hey...can I join?” “No…” “Well, I don’t think you can decide that. I’ll ask professor Slughorn.” “Honestly, are all Hufflepuff as stubborn as you are?” “Maybe? It is part of the house’s virtues after all...” “You’re not dressed for ingredient gathering…” “I’m perfectly dressed for adventure, Severus…” Much to Snape’s annoyance, Slughorn welcomes Tonks participation with open arms. Professor Slughorn was quite eccentric at times, he spent half of the way into the forest talking about how much of a wonderful student her mother was and about how gifted, for a muggleborn, her father was. Tonks had never entered the forest, she’d strolled around the edge of it during full moon nights. That’s how she’d come to meet Mr. Wolfie, but she had never stepped beyond the limit. Slughorn said that the Moonblooms were flowering in a small clearing not too deep into the forest, so it was safe and they shouldn’t worry; but as she stepped into the the shadows she began to feel uneasy. “You shouldn’t have come if you were going to be so scared…” Snape muttered to her and she replied by giving him a soft punch in his arm. “I’m not scared. Nervous and scared aren’t the same…” “We are with a teacher. Nothing is going to happen…” A lot of things could happen, she thought. True, they were with a teacher. A experienced wizard many times more powerful and skilled than them; that should give out some reassurance; but at the end, the teachers were human too, and no human is unbeatable. “Care to say what were you doing sneaking around so late at night, Nymphadora…” Snape’s voice was a mix of teasing, scolding and curiosity. Even though she was annoyed by his insistence to use her first name, which she knew was un purpose to work her up, she was pleased by the fact that the shy stoic boy was finally starting to see her as a friend. “Had bad dreams and couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d go for a stroll to clear my head. Do you always volunteer for this kind of...jobs?” she asked quickly before Snape could ask about her dreams. “Sometimes. I like potions and I learn a lot more during this kind of experiences than from classes and books alone…” “The potion brewing prodigy, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll end up being Potions teacher in a future…” “As long as I don’t have to teach you…” “I’m not that bad in potions, you know?” she said elbowing him. “Yes, of course...like I haven’t noticed after all the tutoring I’ve given you.” “It’s practice for when you become a grumpy teacher…” “Very funny, Nymphadora…” “Can you stop calling me that?” “No” Tonks knew when a battle was lost and nothing she did would persuade Snape from using her first name as long as it annoyed her. The trio reached the clearing and Tonks almost lost her breath at the beautiful view. She’d never seen Moonblooms in real life; she had read about them and seen them in books, but she thought that the description in them didn’t give the flowers proper credit. The flowers were ghostly white and glittering like diamonds; even in the lack of light they seemed to glow with their own light. The corolla of the flowers were composed by numerous smaller petals surrounding a carpel with golden stamen. Their perfume was bewitching: sweet and fragrant, and Tonks couldn’t help but feel lucky to have stumbled with Snape. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Slughorn said happily “Moonblooms are hard to come by. They’re awfully hard to grow and can only be harvested from the wild. Magical properties are only useful when they’re harvested in full bloom and that only last around two hours between 10 and midnight. A very tricky flower. Now, now...children. I’ll show you how to cut them and we can start…” Spending the late hours in the forbidden forest cutting flowers with a friendly potions professor and a cranky Snape wasn’t exactly a planned adventure, but Tonks found herself enjoying herself. Snape seemed particularly cheerful as he asked Slughorn about the flower’s properties and their application in potions, and she could swear she’d never seen the boy happier. She was listening, too, but not with as much devotion as he did. She picked up another pair of flowers and as she searches around the plants she comes face to face with some brilliant cobalt flowers. “Aconite…” Snape muttered behind her “Didn’t expect to find it here…” “What is it for?” “Many uses...but I wouldn’t touch it. Is way to poisonous…” “Wolfsbane…” she said softly. “What?” Snape asked with a frown. The word had come into her mind and she wasn’t fully aware why. It was important, but she couldn’t tell why. “Wolfsbane…” she repeated trying to understand what meaning the word held to her. “Ah...yes, that’s another name it receives.” Snape nodded “Anyway...let’s hurry. It’s almost midnight.” Tonks nodded. She stared at the flowers and once Snape had turned back to his own chores, she cut the aconite flowers into a small bouquet and pushed them into her bag. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like she had to take them with her.

#harry #harry potter reimagined #AcrinkleofFate #nymphadora tonks #Remus Lupin #remadora #ronks #remus x tonks #maruaders era #marauders au #James Potter #Sirius Black #severus snape

[minaminokyoko]

Favourite avengers movies scenes?

How on earth do you expect me to ever narrow down enough to not list the entire trilogy in general? Holy hell. I am a big fat Marvel fangirl and I could write a fucking dissertation on scenes complete with charts and graphs. For the sake of argument, let me see if I can at the very least just highlight the tippy top favorite moments from the first three Avengers films. Keep in mind, I fucking love all three of them to death and could rave about them for days at a time.

The Avengers

-Loki’s confrontation with Nick Fury. This scene sets the tone for the rest of the film so fucking well, man. It’s just brilliantly done to see that whatever humanity that we saw in Loki in Thor has pretty much flown out the window and he’s here to wreak havoc and start a war, and he doesn’t care how many people he destroys in the process. I also like that it shows the vast gap in power and experience between the SHIELD agents and an Asgardian. Loki all but flattens everyone in a matter of seconds. Seeing him among other Asgardians can kind of make you forget he’s literally a thousand year old god and is tough as nails. He’s also low down and ruthless and that’s the kind of thing that is scary as hell when you realize that’s what they’re all up against.

-Nat’s “interrogation” with the Russians. I actually love every single Avenger’s introduction scene, but this one is so delightful in that Nat shows us just why she is an Avenger even though she has no enhanced abilities: deception, manipulation, and just being an incredibly agile combat expert. I am most delighted with her scene because before Avengers, I had no regard for Nat at all and thought she was just fanservice, but here, she completely proved her worth as a character and to the team, and I got on board as a fan of her just from her opening scene wiping the floor with these idiot Russian dudes.

-Tony and Bruce getting to know each other in the lab. From a character standpoint, this is an outstanding scene. Tony is trying to draw Bruce out of his shell, and the sympathy and empathy he has for him is so palpable that it’s why we all dubbed them the Science Bros and why it’s one of the best friendships in the Avengers. Tony is so awesome for joking with Bruce and treating him like a normal person and reminding him that there is at least one person aboard that helicarrier who doesn’t see him as some terrifying monster and knows just from reading up on him that he’s not a bad person. It’s so charming and wonderful.

-Stuttgart. Man. Man, oh man, this is a well done scene. The build up to Loki’s horrifying actions is so great and so is this freaking diva’s grandstanding once he demands the poor, confused Germans kneel before him. It’s fascinating to me because Loki has an almost childlike need for attention, as if his frustrations with his failure to take over Asgard as king has manifested itself into this very basic need to be acknowledged as being a powerful threat. Loki could kill an average human being with a flick of his wrist. His comparison of “an ant has no quarrel with a boot” while cruel is accurate, but here’s the thing, Loki: if you fuck with enough fucking ants, you can get your ass into a lot of trouble, and we’re fireants, not sugar ants, buddy. And ants who band together get shit done. The old man who stood up to him, in my book, is a fucking hero all on his own and I think it’s one of the most well crafted pieces of dialogue in the entire MCU. “There are no men like me.” “There are always men like you.” Oh, standing ovation for that piece of dialogue. Give it an Oscar. Then Cap swinging in to kick ass and Tony swooping in beside him with an equally over the top entrance to Loki’s was the icing on the fucking cake.

-Thor retrieving Loki. Hnnnnnnngh, okay, so here’s the thing: I fucking love Thor and Loki’s relationship even before Ragnarok came out and upgraded it. Thor is and always has been since his first movie a man with very deep emotions who loves and loves deeply with all his heart, and his confrontation with Loki just wounds me so much. How Thor throws Loki to the ground and yet yanks him to his feet and just holds him there, his hand on his face, looking so torn between agony and relief that his brother is alive. “I thought you dead.” “Did you mourn?” Fuck me, this scene is absolutely brutal to my feels. Thor and Loki’s debate was nothing short of excellent as Thor tries to bring Loki around, and the thing is, he means it. He means every fucking word, that he would take the Tesseract and bring his brother home, and he doesn’t care about facing the music, he just wants his goddamn brother back even after all Loki has done so far in the story. Y’all better stop sleeping on Thor, man. His heart is by far the best thing about him, forget all the delicious muscles and that perfect teddy bear smile. Thor has miles and miles of heart, and that’s why I love this scene so much. 

-Nat tricking Loki into revealing his plan. This scene is so good I based an entire goddamn fanfic around its premise. Dude. Nat fucking Romanov, y’all. I love how this scene is staged and executed. I love Loki starting out almost gentle and conversational, as if for once he’s going to just be an actual person and not a monster, and then he slips back into that nasty egotistical megalomaniac when he thinks he has one over on Nat. And then Nat fucking schools him. It’s why I have a personal headcanon that he developed a hatecrush on her after she, a mere mortal, tricked the goddamn God of Mischief. It solidified Nat as one of my favorite female heroes forever. I loved seeing her use that feminine “weakness” to let him run his mouth. I also love that his cruel words did in fact affect her and motivated her even more to both save Clint and to go to war with Loki at the end.

-The whole ass helicarrier attack sequence. I mean, I don’t even need to go into detail. You already know. 

-Tony confronting Loki. This is the scene that assured us that what followed would be one of the greatest fight sequences in cinematic history. I pretty much have most of Tony’s dialogue memorized because it had such an effective impact on me from a storytelling standpoint. Tony standing up to Loki as a mortal man with no suit, candidly threatening him with barely suppressed rage that Loki murdered Coulson, a comrade, in cold blood, is downright amazing.

-The battle of New York. Boom. Again, no words necessary. Perfect fucking sequence from start to finish.

-Thor trying one last damn time to bring Loki around. Oh, my heart. My poor fucking heart. Thor really loves his brother and he would do anything to have him back. Is it naive? Yes. But it’s also a beautiful statement of what family truly means to Thor and it breaks my heart. The fact that a tear slides down Loki’s face when he stabs Thor and mutters, “Sentiment” is so not cool. As much as Loki pretends to be the Big Bad Wolf, there is something still young and human inside of him even though he pretends it isn’t there. All my creys.

-Hulk trouncing Loki. I went and saw The Avengers three times in theaters, and two out of the three times, everyone cheered so loud I didn’t hear the Hulk say “puny god” over all the noise. It was that satisfying a scene.

Age of Ultron

-The entire beginning sequence. Fucking loved it. What masterful ass-kicking and showcasing of the team dynamic. It made me want a longer lead in to how they all got reunited because it was so enjoyable. “Language!” Oh, Cap.

-Jarvis and Ultron’s first scene together. Dude. James fuckin’ Spader, man. I never knew I could be so intimidated by a man’s voice. It was so unsettling for so many reasons, the resentment, irrationality, and anger from his unusual birth and creation. It was all the more frightening when he turned on Jarvis, and at the time, we didn’t know he hadn’t killed our beloved butler. 

-Picking up Mjolnir. This scene needs no elaboration. It’s just perfection. Even people who complain about Age of Ultron admit this scene is just flawless.

-The team confronting Tony over creating Ultron. Cap’s line, which we now know goes even further after the events of Infinity War, just make me want to die. “We’ll lose.” “Then we’ll do that together, too.” Tony’s face, realizing that Cap doesn’t care that he fucked up–he cares that Tony couldn’t trust the team enough to let them in on what he was dealing with–is soul-crushing. Tony realizes he was wrong to assume instead of being honest with them. 

-The confrontation in Wakanda. Everything about it was badass and it hits you right where you live seeing the Avengers having to face their biggest regrets and most painful moments of their pasts. Especially Steve’s. The image of him and Peggy finally getting their dance was so not okay. Special props to Tony in the Hulkbuster armor. That was one hell of a fucking brawl.

-The Sokovia final battle. There are just so many awesome points in the final battle sequence, man. Everyone is out there just kicking ass and doing what they do best. Special props to Hawkeye getting through to Wanda, and Hawkeye’s “nobody would know…nobody” moment with Pietro. 

Infinity War

Disclaimer: I have no idea how to isolate moments in a movie that is by far one of the most well written comic book movies since The Dark Knight, but I guess since you asked, I have to try anyway. Hoo boy. Strap in. 

-Loki’s death. Let me explain something to you: I went entire years without caring about Loki, and then around the time The Dark World came out, I slowly became converted to both a Tom Hiddleston and a Loki fan, and then after Ragnarok, he finally just seduced me completely to being smitten with his stupid trashy self. It is important that you realize that I recognize that Loki is a selfish, inferiority complex-having, murdering bastard and I do not excuse a goddamn thing he does because of his fucking Daddy issues. That being said, in spite of how much of a flaming trashbag he is, I love him anyway, and I tried for months to tell myself that I knew as a fellow writer that Loki was going to die in Infinity War. It was assured not only from the trailer, but from me knowing that his character arc was always going to end with his death. What hurt most of all is that, as I predicted, Loki died trying to save Thor. I cried my eyes out. Hell, once Thanos closed his hand around Loki’s neck, I covered my eyes because I just didn’t have it in me to see it end this way for him and for Thor. Thor being helpless to stop it is truly what made it worse. There is nothing on heaven or earth Thor wouldn’t do for Loki, even knowing how wicked Loki is. And the fact that Loki couldn’t let Thanos kill Thor after all these two have been through was like an icepick through my heart. Loki wouldn’t have died protecting Thor if Thor had not loved him unconditionally this entire time we’ve watched their story. Thor’s love did have an effect on Loki throughout these films, and that’s why I literally burst into sobs and couldn’t bear to see him die that way. It is one of the most gut wrenching things ever put to film, and certainly in the MCU. I’ve only had the stomach to watch that scene twice because it hurts me so much, and neither time was I strong enough to actually watch Loki’s final moments. Goddamn, it’s just so painful. Capped off with Thor slowly crawling over to his brother to be with him one last time before the ship explodes and just laying his head on his chest in the kind of grief that honestly should get Hemsworth a fucking Oscar. Bravo. 

-Cap, Widow, and Falcon reuniting with Vision and Wanda. Holy shit, yes. This fight was gorgeous, gripping, and fucking awesome. Special props to Cap and Widow being the ride or die Avengers Mom and Dad team. We can infer from their actions that the two of them have been together since the end of Civil War possibly, so you can not tell me Cap and Widow are not a thing on some level. Captasha all day, err day. They perfectly compliment each other and I headcanon that they’re together and no one will convince me otherwise.

-”We’ll fight you too.”/”We don’t trade lives.” That sound you hear is me screeching. Some people have said Cap wasn’t given a ton to do this time around, and I emphatically protest it simply because, yes, he has less screentime, but man, he does so much work in this role that reminds us of why we all love Captain America. His values mean so much. Cap will lay down his life in the blink of an eye for someone who needs it. He cares so deeply. He is the pinnacle of selflessness and it’s so important to see in this film.

-Thor meeting the Guardians. Perfection. Just…perfection.

-Irondad and Spiderson aboard the Space Donut. Jesus fucking Christ, I am so on board for Irondad and Spiderson that it’s insane. I love that entire fucking interaction from start to finish. I love Tony’s strict, fatherly anger and exasperation because he just wants his baby boy to be safe on earth while he’s on another suicide mission, but the baby boy wants to help his dad out and baby boy also doesn’t quite realize the consequences because he’s too young. Extra points for Tony’s death-glare after Parker says, “It’s kind of your fault I’m here” and the fact that even the fucking cloak did a double take at Parker when he said it. Oh, it’s so perfect.

-Gamora making Peter promise to kill her if Thanos gets to her. I just…I want to die. This was so beautifully done, and so in character for both of them, and Peter and Gamora are just so soft and sweet and in love that it’s so overwhelming. At the very least, I take a small comfort in knowing that they were a happy family for four years before this shit happened to them.

-Gamora “killing” Thanos. Again, can we just award Oscars to like half the fucking cast in this movie? Jesus Christ, I cried at this scene too because the fact that she’s just completely unraveled as she finally thinks she’s killed her goddamn abuser is so deeply tragic. Gamora is my favorite Guardian. Hands down. She is so three dimensional. She tries so hard and she is so much more than the deadliest woman in the galaxy. She is so complex and it is the worst pain ever to know that Peter actually kept his promise and tried to kill her to prevent her from being in the hands of her abuser again and Thanos foiled their plan, and had the fucking nerve to say, “I like him” before he took her again. 

-”It’ll kill you.” “Only if I die.” “…yes, that’s what killing you means.” 

-The battle of Wakanda. Motherfucker. This is some A+++ motherfucking good shit hurr. What always gets me hype as hell is Cap and T’Challa sprinting down the goddamn hill at 80 mph and I just can’t even handle that shit because it was so good and satisfying. Everything about this battle was incredible.

-The battle on Titan. Same thing. It’s so creative and well crafted and amazing. You feel every blow. You flinch. You want them to beat that son of a bitch but he’s just so fucking strong. It is an incredibly engaging fight, man. Hoo boy. 

-Thor’s entrance to the battle of Wakanda. I distinctly remember the entire audience going absolutely apeshit during this scene the night Infinity War premiered. Like the first Avengers, I saw it three times in theaters, and two out of the three times, the crowd went fucking wild. That was so fucking satisfying, man, as are the neat little scenes of levity with Cap introducing himself to Groot and Cap and Thor remarking on each other’s changes in appearance. It was so pure and good and perfect.      

-Cap squaring up with Thanos. I. Can’t. Breathe. It was so powerful. Like the above scene of “we don’t trade lives,” this is why we love Captain America. Why we love Steve Rogers. This man, this mortal human man, took one goddamn fucking look at that twelve foot all powerful alien giant and said, “Not today, bitch.” Steve fucking Rogers stood there and took it. He put his life on the goddamn line for Wanda, and for Vision, and for the rest of the universe, and he actually held that goddamn line for a moment. The incredulous look on Thanos’ face is what seals it. He is utterly confused that this little man is actually holding him back, that this mere mortal doesn’t give a fuck that he can’t overpower him, but he is giving it his all because that is who he is. Steve will not quit. Steve will not falter. Steve will die doing what’s right and that is one of the most moving things in the whole MCU, imo. He just planted his feet and said, “No, you move.” I know we saw that scene in the trailer, but it was so unbelievable to see it in context that Cap gave it everything he had trying to protect Wanda and the rest of the universe, and I still get choked up just thinking about that shit. 

Welp, you asked for it and now you have it. I told you I was gonna rave, man. God bless anyone who actually read this nonsense. Marvel had me at hello with these characters and they have way too much sway over my emotions, as you can see above. Ten years, man. Ten years. 

#The Avengers #Avengers #Avengers Age of Ultron #Infinity War

[mittenslikesthings]

Just a pic I like

(the image from this post is from the wonderful Suechan whose work you can find here... http://www.sue-chan.com/hypnoindex.html)

Emily was struck by a flash of erotic inspiration while looking at discount dragon horns on sale in the Halloween section of the local Dollorama. 

She chucked a bit at her constant need for kink but realized her idea could work. She grabbed the pretty little headband and plastic sword as well. Her partners Ollie and Rebecca would have no idea what hit them.

She invited them to her single dorm for a night of Smash Bros and promised both, “if you are good some additional fun.” 

As part of her plan Emily made no attempt to prepare. Outside of a quick shower, because we live in a society, she didn’t bother with good clothes, makeup or anything. She wanted to seem as plain as possible.

They arrived together about an hour later.

Rebecca per usual was dressed to the nines for her Mistress, with stunning makeup that made Emily pause for a moment, her jaw open, “Oh my God Rebecca I love what you did with your eyes tonight!”

“Thanks!” Came Rebecca’s bubbly reply, “I love your... your hair looks so ... nice.” Emily felt a little insulted before she remembered that being blah looking was part of her plan. But she still felt a little insulted.

“How is it going?” Came Ollie’s nonchalant greeting. He was wearing a torn Metallica t-shirt and he seemed washed but that was about it. It was the way she liked him and he knew it.

She grabbed his bicep and squeezed a little, ‘my god’ she thought ‘my boy has been working out’

“Your beard is starting to come in,” she said referring to the slight stubble forming on his chin and down the side of his face, “it looks nice”

“Thanks Emily!” and he let himself in.

“Yah sure just come on in and be the man of the house then why don’t you Ollie.” Emily said with a bit of playful irritation, “Shall I get you a drink as well Master?”

Ollie turned puzzled, “Oh, right, sorry” and he removed his shoes and coat and waited by the door for Rebecca and Emily to enter the living room. “Ummm Emily whatever are you planning?” Ollie said when they saw the halloween accessories in a bundle.

“Oh my god can I be a damsel in distress from a scary Dragon!?” Rebecca asked, seeing the dragon horns and eagerly grabbing the headband. She had grown to love their roleplaying, especially when the clothes came off.

“We’ll see, for now,” she grinned a little and used the velvety hypnotic voice both of them had gotten quite fond of, “why don’t you both come sit beside me.”

Ollie smiled “Uh oh Rebecca, I think Emily is using her Bene Gesserit Voice on us again, we should run” but he walked up and carefully sat at Emily’s right.

“Oh no, not the thing from that shitty movie” Rebecca said taking a seat.

Emily slapped her slightly “Now now pet, there will be no disparaging of the David Lynch classic reimagining of Frank Herbet’s ‘Dune’ if you want my attention is that understood?”

“Alright” she giggled

Ollie laughed slightly, “I guess we are just blowing right past the Smash Emil.. or ... Mistress?”

Emily took a deep breath in as her two partners adjusted themselves to get more comfortable. “Why don’t you two both just sink for me.”

With that command, instilled over dozens of trances, Ollie and Rebecca’s eyes closed, their whole body fell asleep.

“Its so nice how you two are here with me now” Emily cooed, “Just resting so completely, knowing you have the time to take the time for each breath, in and out just so, naturally, falling deeper, your unconscious, knows how deeply I will let you fall, sensing my arms around you, sinking into this, feeling how good it is to submit to my words...”

(ollie should get the same regression and probing as rebecca)

Emily dropped them down for several minutes before turning to Ollie, “Ollie in a moment even as Rebecca fades down deeper into trance with each word I speak, you will find when I when I say ‘Knights at their feet’ you will open you eyes while remaining deeply in trance, arise comfortably and face me awaiting my command, nod your head that you understand.”

Ollie’s head nodded sleepily, his face flushed red in trance.

“Good my pet, you will also find how with each word I say you will feel more and more as though you have stepped into a dream, you might not even remember what happens as dreams are often lost to memory as you are lost in my voice. Its so strange isn’t it? How that can happen as your mind wanders through a dream and wonders how it is that it experiences so much but remembers so little? Like how you might notice now that just tracking from sentence to sentence with all those little words and complex thoughts are just so hard to follow? I find it is a mystery how those hard to follow words can just do their work inside your mind without you even realizing it as you know you will simply follow without thinking, obeying without remembering.” (move this up to apply to both, include references to childhood daydreaming)

Ollie’s eyelids were open slightly and she saw his eyes moving back and fourth rapidly, the telltale sign he had surrendered and entered a dream. She thought she should repeat herself for emphasis,

“Nod your head that you know, deep inside, that when I say ‘knights at their feet’ you will comfortably stand before me in this dream you are having.”

He nodded so she ordered, “Knights at their feet”

Ollie’s eyes opened, a simple blank stare, and his body seemed arise as if pulled foreward by some invisble force. He turned and looked at her.

Emily’s voice moved from a gentle and caring one to being much more stern and cold.

“You see the sword and shield over there? Pick them up and then stand before me at attention again.

He retrieved the toys and returned.

“Good, now you are big and strong right my Knight?”

Ollie nodded proudly.

“In a moment I will have you remain in place and show me how powerfully you can wave that sword, while this is happening Rebecca you will find the most interesting thing, each sound of exertion from Ollie will just make you more grateful I am allowing you to sleep so gently and you will sink deeper. Nod that you understand Rebecca. Good. Ollie in another moment I will say ‘Fight’ you will show me how strong and violent you can be to those who threaten me. You will sell it as best you can, you will make me believe it. When I say ‘Peace’ you will stop, your eyes will close on their own, you will drop your sword and shield as you drop down and you sink even deeper even as you remain standing. Now Ollie prove to me how strong you are. Fight!”

Ollie proceeded to stab at the air violently, shouting and yelling and promising to protect Emily from Orcs or anyone else who threatens her. His body flexing and the intensity in his eyes made Emily bite her lip hard.

“Peace” Emily commanded and just like that Ollie let his sword and shield fall, his eyes closing and he just stood there, head lowered and waiting.

“Good pet, Ollie you will sink even deeper with each breath, standing comfortably. Rebecca my beautiful pet you put so much work into looking pretty for me today didn’t you?”

“Yessss” came the tender reply.

“Good, and my pet deserves to know she is a Princess. Such a fascinating word, ‘Princess’, a word we remember from when we were little, as kids looking up at the television, all those cartoons of princesses being beautiful and wise and wanting to be like them when we grew up. Do you remember what it was like wanting so bad to be a beautiful princess Rebecca?”

“mmmmhmmm”

“Tell me what you liked about it and as you do you will sink blissfully deeper”

“Sparkly.”

“You like sparkles, is that why you have just a bit of glitter around your eyes this evening?”

“mmmhmmmm”

“Use your words pet.”

“Yes”

“Good, and did you like anything else about being a princess?”

“Attention”

“Its a special thing being under for me, you are slipping into a dream like Cinderalla slipped on her beautiful shoes. And as you wonder how Cinderella must have felt when her mundane life became so magical just by putting on something that a princess would where you can sink even deeper for me, as Ollie is sinking deeper, with each word I say, wondering whether you will ever be allowed to experience such a transformation, into a dream, a pleseant and beutiful dream. I know sometimes we can be in a dream and worry we may leave the dream but you know that here I am the one who is doing the dreaming and for as long as I dream you can share this dream. And I will be dreaming a good long while, dreaming so many interesting and captivating dreams that you can share as you leacefully let go into this dream more and more, just falling deeper”

Emily paused for a moment, feeling Rebecca’s sleepy body breathing in and out against her, looking up and seeing Ollie standing there and sinking for her as well. She felt so lucky to be part of such a triangle, and she knew that they loved it to. ‘might I be about to push them a bit to far? what happens in a dream can stay with us and become part of us’ She looked back at them and all the conversations they had each had about their needs and wants. She knew how desperately submissive they both were, how much they wanted to give her. She decided it would be worth the risk and continued with her plan.

She grabbed the headband from beside Rebbeca’s open palm. “Rebecca in a moment I will take the beautiful headband and place it upon your head. When I do you will feel that your moment to become Cinderella has come.

[lyravellas]

The Crystal Kingdom Part 8: TAZ Pre-Finale Relisten Recap

I'll pay someone to loop spooky scary skeletons under all of the audio of the Kravitz fight

Kravitz's first interaction with the THB is to sass the living hell out of Magnus.

His second interaction is to completely miss his first attack against Merle and chalk it up to performance anxiety, which is actually surprisingly appropriate considering the fact that he apparently wanted to be a conductor pre grim reaper gig.

"Hey thug what's your name I'm about to tentacle your dick! Hey-hey-hey, I'm gonna get you into some tent porn! Let me get that name real quick so I now how to credit you! In my tentacle porn I'm about to make with your body!

Taako does all of this while rolling around on the fucking floor

No3113 swinging Magnus around like a human stab pendulum to hit the golem is an excellent mental image that I treasure.

It's worth mentioning that Kravitz does light everyone the fuck up in this fight and also straight up murder Taako, which is not the greatest first impression.

Merle's a Decent Cleric Tally: +1, Merle unmurders Taako.

Garyl makes a majestic entrance and adds 17 years to my lifespan.

Magnus somehow throws his shield at Kravitz while slumped over Garyl and mostly paralyzed, keeping Merle from becoming super duper dead.

"I don't even know how that worked out, like with physics!" — Kravitz, who I would take a bullet for, albeit unnecessarily

Something interesting: Kravitz actually apologizes to Merle and acknowledges that the whole situation probably seems unfair, but says that "work is work".

Listening to any scene involving the glutton's fork is the fucking best

"What the fuck is wrong with the three of you. You guys are fucked up, that's the— that's some sick shit! Oh god."

I'm so desperately sad that we didn't get to see Kravitz's reaction to Magnus eating the fucking Philosopher's stone two episodes down the road.

[Killian, after finding the crack in her helmet] "Oh my god. This is the most frustrating thing that's ever happened. All I've wanted in life, up to this point, is to find Lucas and destroy him."

Carey letting the boys know that she feels "considerably less good about their chances" and trying to turn back after Killian's departure seems like it might point to some self-confidence issues?

Headcanon time: kicking ass in the Crystal Kingdom with No3113 (and later, becoming Magnus's mentor) helped boost Carey's confidence to the level it's at currently.

Even more Extra™ headcanon time: It also gave her the courage to ask Killian out. Hell yeah. Sweet flips.

Oh god it's Upsy

My own personal and deeply, deeply unnerved feelings regarding Upsy aside, Griffin doing a completely batshit cover of Girl from Ipanema as Upsy is the fucking funniest thing I've ever heard in my life and I cannot listen to it without coming dangerously close to peeing myself. That's where I am at as a person.

Alright, so the ghost robot fight rematch is next episode. I've been wondering why Magic Brian is in this fight at all, because he was BoB employee who was enthralled by the relic — so theoretically not an inherently bad person? I guess you could argue that you'd be pissed at someone who murdered you regardless of the circumstances, though. That's probably fair.

[nickireadstfc]

The Raven King, Chapter 5 – Call Me, Beep Me

In which Neil is introduced to the wonders of modern technology, the battle against heteronormativity continues, Andreil have An Interaction™ and Nicky finally reclaims his status as best person alive.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Raven King.

We start this chapter off with Neil recapping how he’s super broke, which is already the most fucking relatable thing.

“Broke” here meaning “I am in possession of half a million dollars, however I’ll need it for my entire sad runaway life so I can’t spend it on anything fancy”, not “I’m a poor intern who’s getting paid below minimum wage”, obviously.

The reason we’re evaluating Neil’s financial status is because some unexpected expenses have come up in his life that he is ruthlessly and cruelly forced to :

He’s going shopping with Nicky.

Well, technically the rest of the monsters are there too, but let’s be real, Nicky is the driving force of Operation Let’s Get Neil Into Some Decent Nice Clothes, And Hopefully Also Laid.

The reason they’re venturing into the scary, hostile territory of an American mall is, of course, the fast approach of one particular banquet.

           “I could just not go,”  Neil said.

           “Shut up. You’re going,” Kevin said, like he wasn’t dreading this himself. All fourteen southern Class I teams would be in attendance, and that included Edgar Allan’s Ravens.

Oh, yes. Fun times with That Fucker™ himself. Have I mentioned I’m really, really looking forward to this thing?

           It was a short list of names and numbers in bubbly blue print. Nicky leaned over and made a dismissive noise. “Seriously, Aaron?”

           “Dan asked me to get a list from Katelyn,” Aaron said.

           “Who are these people?” Neil asked.

           “They’re the single Vixens.”

           “They’re all women,” Nicky said. “That doesn’t help us.”

Nicky saying ‘Fuck you’ to heteronormativity will always be my favourite thing <3

Although, as funny as it is, Neil has repeatedly told him he’s not gay. And while I totally understand the frustration of someone insisting they’re not queer while your gaydar shouts otherwise, can Nicky be a little less pushy about it, maybe?

Just a thought.

           “Stop being a bad influence,” Kevin told Nicky. “I am going to make him Court. It’ll be easier if he remains heterosexual. You know more than any of us how prejudiced people can be.”

Guys, he is literally right there.

Neil thinks so too:

           “We aren’t really having this conversation,” Neil said.

           Nicky clapped his hands to either side of Neil’s head as if trying to shield Neil from their argument. It didn’t really work, as he missed Neil’s ears completely.

Bahahaha. I actually had to laugh out at that mental image.

           “Come on, Kevin. Even you have to admit this is really weird.”

           Andrew threw his hands up. “Newsflash, Nicky: Neil isn’t normal!”

           “This is beyond abnormal.”

           “I am standing right here,” Neil said, “and I can hear you.”

You tell ‘em, Neil.

Nicky, has someone explained the concept of demi/asexuality to you? Like, ever?

Deep sigh. Will I have to do it, or does someone enlighten this boy before the series is over?

(Don’t tell me. I want to continue giving sarcastic running commentary to his running commentary on Neil’s sexuality.)

On a more serious note: The subject of Allison is brought up once again.

           “I won’t bring her,” Kevin said, because someone had to break the quiet. “You might have brought Riko’s wrath down on the striker line, but I’m the reason he’s in the south in the first place. Neither of us has the right to speak to Allison now.”

Is that……. Kevin being….. human…….. with a basic scrap of…….. compassion………?

AMAZING. WONDERFUL. WOW.

           “I know Riko was behind this. I know what people like him are like. Be glad you’ll never understand the way they think.”

           Any other time, Neil would be relieved to hear such words from Kevin. It meant Andrew hadn’t told Kevin the truth about Neil’s past and that Kevin had yet to recognize him.

Yeah, and I’m still unsure on whether I’m buying that whole ‘Kevin doesn’t recognize Neil’ act.

Like. It still doesn’t make sense to me that you could play hours and hours of little league, not to mention watch a guy get legit murdered with this kid, and be fooled with a bit of hair dye and some contacts? Unless puberty did Neil Josten really, really well, I’m calling bullshit.

On the other hand, that comment did sound genuine and y’know, it would support that even the mighty Kevin Day’s brain makes a mistake or two sometimes.

On the other other hand, the mighty Kevin Day is an excellent actor, trained by years in front of cameras, who could drop comments like these and sound like he’s being entirely 100% genuine.

On the other other other hand, why pretend to not know Neil? Maybe not in front of the rest of the team, alright, but if it’s just the two alone? Why ignore their important shared history?

My brain hurts. I need to stop going in circles over this. All in due time, Nicki.

This is for real one of the questions I’m most excited to have answered by the end of this series.

           Neil looked at the massive bundle of clothes in Nicky’s arms. (…)

           “I have good taste in clothes, right? If you want to try them on you can, but you don’t have to. I know they’ll fit.”

           “Why would I want to try them on?”

           “Oh, because these are yours.”

Can I have my own personal Nicky who takes me to the nearest Topshop and picks out bomb ass outfits for me??? Please and thank you.

Neil, however, is an ungrateful fashion grouch, not thanking Nicky with one word as he obviously does not understand what a service to everyone’s eyeballs Nicky has probably just done.

However, all that fashion banter pales against what happens next – which is where the chapter gets really good.

           “What is that dinosaur?” Nicky asked, dismayed. “No one put money on a flip phone, Andrew. You just ruined a really good pot.”

           Neil idly wondered if there was anything his teammates wouldn’t bet on.

Oh my GOD. You bet on what sort of phone Andrew had? I love this team so, so much.

Wait. Shouldn’t they know his phone? Why are they betting on that.

Wait. It’s not his, is it.

           “You couldn’t even have found him a qwerty?”

           “What for?” Andrew finished what he was doing, snapped the phone shut, and tossed it at Neil. (…) “Who is Neil going to text?” (…)

           “What.” Neil couldn’t even make it a question.

They got him a PHONE, you guys. A PHONE. THAT THEY CAN CALL. AND TEXT. FOR KEEPING IN TOUCH. FOR INCLUDING NEIL IN GROUP SOCIALIZING.

I am loving the FUCK out of this.

Neil, however, is not.

           He didn’t think a small thing like this could hurt so much, but the grief that punched through him left him in pieces. (…) Every time they moved they got new cell phones, prepaid burners they could ditch at the first hint of trouble. He’d wanted to keep hers. (…) He’d thrown them into the waves before leaving the beach.

Whoops.

Today’s Casually Mentioned, Yet Heartbreakingly Sad Neil Fact is: This.

           He’d never gotten a new one for himself. He’d never seen a point; Neil had no one in the world he could call.

Excuse me while I quickly drown in my own tears.

And although Nicky tries to calmly and gently reason with him (“That’s our just-in-case. You’ll make us all feel better if we know we can find you”, brb crying), Neil refuses to accept the damn phone.

That is, until, of course, until #bestboy Andrew shows up with it at their Late Night Kandreil Training Sesh™.

           Andrew took his phone out of his pocket and set it down beside Neil’s. His was black but otherwise seemed to be the same model.

Do I get emotional over the fact that they have matching phones? Maybe.

Is it totally ridiculous as Andrew probably just bought him what he knew worked? Probably.

Will that stop me? Absolutely fucking not.

           He flicked both open and pressed a couple buttons. A few seconds later Andrew’s phone started to ring. Neil expected a generic ringtone, but a man started singing. It didn’t sound like something Andrew would assign to his phone until Neil listened to the lyrics. It was a song about runaways.

Andrew, you wonderful little shit. <3

Also, that song either Run Boy Run by Woodkid or Ghost Towns by Radical Face and no other headcanons shall be accepted.

(I’m totally kidding. PLEASE do send in any other ideas you have, my TFC playlist still needs filling.)

Andrew bugs him about the phone thing (needing to watch his boy’s back and what have you <3), Neil dishes out some BS about how he used to keep the phone his dead parents gave him in hopes they would miraculously call again, bla bla.

Andrew is not taking that bullshit and supplies us with some sassy times instead.

           “Who am I supposed to call?” [Neil said.]

           “Nicky, Coach, the suicide hotline, I don’t care.”

           “I’m remembering why I don’t like you.”

           “I’m surprised you even forgot in the first place.”

           “Maybe I didn’t.”

What a comeback, bro. This is weak af coming from a guy who tore down Riko on national TV, just sayin.

           “There has to be a better way.”

           “You could occasionally grow a spine,” Andrew suggested. “I know it’s a difficult concept for someone whose kneejerk reaction is to run away at the first sign of trouble, but try it sometime. You might actually like it.”

           “What I’d like is to put this phone through your teeth.”

           “See, that’s more interesting.”

           “I’m not here for you entertainment,” Neil said.

           “But, as expected, you are talented enough to multitask.”

I’m loving this so, so damn much. Andrew is destroying your ass with these comebacks, Neil, and I’m on the back waving a styrofoam finger, hollering at everything he says.

I would like to also add that Andrew is entirely sober for these interactions. This is pure, undiluted Minyard sass.

And as always – never a one-on-one Andreil Interaction™ without some feels at the end:

           “I don’t care if you use this phone tomorrow. I don’t care if you never use it again. But you are going to keep it on you because one day you might need it..” Andrew put a finger to the underside of Neil’s chin and forced Neil’s head up until they were looking at each other.

Hombre…………………….….. das v gay.

           “One day you’re not going to run. You’re going to think about what I promised you and you’re going to make the call. Tell me you understand.”

           Neil’s voice had left him, but he managed a nod.

:’)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) I’m fine I’m fine leave me here to fucking p e r i s h.

Neil takes this brief honesty hour to try and get back on that weird call from the Oakland PD Andrew got at the start of the book, however that ends honesty hour because Andrew just brushes him off:

           “Children’s Services is opening an investigation into one of my foster fathers. Pig Higgins knew I lived with them, so he called me for testimony. (…) Richard Spear is an uninteresting but relatively harmless human being. They won’t find anything to pin on him.”

Bull-fucking-shit. No way. That was much too shocked a reaction for a little thing like that.

Whatever. All in due time, all in due time.

Onto better and funnier subjects: This is the wonderful, wonderful point where our favourite hobo is finally introduced to the wonders of modern technology.

           By the time Neil made it to the athletes’ dining hall for lunch he had twenty messages. Most of them were from Nicky, idle comments about nothing in particular.

Nicky <33333

Also twenty messages, that is hilarious if you consider that Neil jumps out of his skin like an anxious baby rabbit with an orange bandana every time his phone goes off.

           Neil didn’t know what to make of it. The Foxes spent seven hours together at practices every day and roomed with each other at Fox Tower. How they had anything left to say to each other was beyond him.

It’s called having friends, dude, you should try it some time.

           He wanted to turn the messaging off somehow or tell them this wasn’t why he had a phone. Phones were for emergencies, not running commentary on a teacher’s boring lecture.

Nicky continues to spam him with texts the next few days, which, honestly, big mood.

If I like you, especially if our friendship is just being newly established, I will fucking blow up your phone with wholesome memes and weird 3am thoughts. Watch me.

This tactic has made some good ass friendships though, so no regrets.

However, for Nicky it’s not just all fun and friendship-making:

           Halfway through [Nicky’s] rant about a current class project Neil’s phone hummed. Neil answered without thinking. It was a smiley face from Nicky. Neil looked up at Nicky, not understanding.

           “See?” Nicky sounded pleased. “That’s much better. That’s how a normal human being looks when they check their phone, Neil.”

Dude. Did you just………….. blow up his phone all week………… just to make sure he’s comfortable using it…………………. I CRY???????

           “Question,” Nicky said. “If I hadn’t been bothering you would you have touched that phone at all this week?” (…)

           “Question again: Do you honestly think you’d have used it if you had an emergency?”

NICKY WHEN DID YOU BECOME SUCH A GOOD PERSON AGAIN I’M SORRY I BRIEFLY UNSTANNED YOU LET ME FUCKING L O V E Y O U

           “Anyway, you’re welcome. I just saved you at least two hundred dollars in intensive therapy.”

MY DUDE <33333333333

Nicky is a wonderful person, Neil knows what an emoji is, all is good in the world again.

Next chapter: Fun banquet times! Sass! Shade! Fashion! And from all I know, possibly murder yet again! Stay tuned!

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If you like what I do here and you want to help me continue writing, please consider buying me a coffee! Thank you so much <3

#nicki reads tfc #tfc #aftg #trk #the foxhole court #all for the game #the raven king #nora sakavic #I can only answer asks from mobile rn for some reason but do keep them coming!! I'll get around to answering them tomorrow probably

[serve-the-people-clt]

OPPOSE RAPE APOLOGIA

For the past 2 months, Serve The People Charlotte has been on the receiving end of social media harassment, threatening messages, and accusations of transmisogyny (misogyny against trans women) and anti-Blackness (racism specifically against Black people/Blackness). Messages and posts to the STP-CLT Charlotte page started when a group of activists here in Charlotte saw that we were having our servings in Clanton Park. Our Facebook page was bombarded with accusatory questions and demands that we relocate from our current location. Their reasoning for demanding we move to another park is that a Black trans woman was attacked by community members in Clanton park, the same Black trans woman they are currently organizing around who has been accused of sexual contact with a 15-year-old. Harassment intensified when some Serve The People Charlotte volunteers who were previously involved decided to separate themselves from the activists supporting the accused and had questions about whether or not a she could be a rapist. The beef between Serve The People Charlotte and this group of activists is being portrayed as a conflict of personalities and a direct, petty, attack on a Black trans woman because we have our servings in the park where she was attacked in. To be honest, we did take her attack into account while choosing between Clanton or Wingate Neighborhood Park, and we had a feeling it would come to this, but we chose Clanton Park for solely logistical and political reasons. Clanton Park is larger, has covering from rain, a bigger playground, basketball courts, a community center, and a more frequent number of visitors than Wingate Neighborhood park. STP-CLT chose Clanton Park because we believe it’s more central to the community than any other park in the area. We didn’t choose our location to piss off or annoy a group of people we didn’t plan on working with anyway. Our choosing to not be involved with this group of activists is rooted in their current and active support of an accused rapist as well as the definition of rape. We firmly believe any sexual contact with a 15-year-old by someone in their mid-twenties is rape, while the group attacking us believe it is NOT rape. Statutory rape is often excused because of the belief that there is still a level of consent. We refuse to downplay the seriousness of statutory rape and the vulnerability of young teenagers in sexual situations. Adults have a responsibility to not engage in sexual activity with teens and children regardless if they feel “consent” has been given. Children cannot and will not ever be able to “consent” to sexual acts with an adult.   We aren’t able to identify this group of activists by name as they are not an official organization, and we are not interested in sending out personal attacks such as they have. We are coming from a political place only. This statement was not written to out people to police, therefore, we will not identify anyone by name. This is a political statement to make where we stand clear. With this background information being given, the rest of this statement is a direct response to the allegations against us stating that Serve The People Charlotte is anti-Black and transmisogynistic. “I have this identity so any criticism of me is an attack on my identity/identities” When people in the organizing community voiced questions, confusion, and concerns about the support of someone being accused of sexual contact with a minor, they were met with “Trust Black trans women!” “You hate Black trans women!” and “This is anti-Blackness!” Trusting Black trans women, not hating Black trans women, and recognizing anti-Blackness are good ideas and direct responses to the oppression black trans women face. However, they are weaponizing this to shield from the accusation of rape and criticism of rape apologia. This group has continually said that their politics and political work are centered around the most oppressed and exploited and that defending them at all cost is liberation work. They claim they combat all forms of anti-Blackness on the spot and at every corner. This sounds great in theory but was completely misapplied in the case of the person they are shielding from criticism. The person accused of sexually assaulting a minor is a Black trans woman and the minor who was assaulted is a cis (not trans) Black boy. When age was mentioned in reservations about supporting a statutory rapist the rebuttal was an emphasis on gender using reasonings such as “He’s a cis man and she’s a Black trans woman so the power dynamic is different” all the while ignoring the fundamental difference between them: age. What we found contradictory in their reasoning was the inherent anti-Blackness of not issuing a young Black boy childhood and the painting of HIM as the predator and not the adult in the situation. How many times have we seen on the news young Black kids being described as big, scary, and adults instead of children? When has it ever been the correct idea to combat anti-Blackness against one Black person by using anti-Black narratives against another? An adult is an adult regardless of race, gender, etc. Adults should be held responsible for their actions and shouldn’t be able to pass off blame to younger people with “Well they look older, they act older, I didn’t know their age, etc.” It’s the responsibility of the adult to question how old somebody is before engaging in risky (drug use or drinking alcohol for example) or sexual activity with someone who could possibly be a minor. At what point do we consider a teenager “grown?” This is the perfect opportunity for them to paint a teenager as capable of consent because it removes all responsibility from the adult in the situation. This group’s entire political platform is centered around a person accused of sexual assault and rooted in guilting people into giving monetary support to her. Another way they use identity politics is by them guilting white people, non-Black people, cis people, and people they deem as cis passing (people they deem as not “looking” trans) into giving them money and into supporting a person accused of rape because anybody who asks questions is labeled anti-Black and trans misogynistic. This is usually followed up by call out posts on social media and being pushed out of activist spaces. They ostracize people for not being radical enough by their standards all while operating as liberals, taking on whatever politics work for their benefit in the moment. We’ve seen this by their use of the phrase “trust Black trans women” as a rallying point when they only mean the black trans women they choose. They proved this to be true when they told the community not to trust the Black trans woman who outed the accused for being a rapist, painting her as neurotic, crazy, and untrustworthy. These are all clear examples of their identity opportunism, picking and choosing where and when identity matters, as an opportunity for political gain. There’s more inconsistencies with the narrative the group accusing us of being anti-Black and transmisogynistic is pushing out. Every time this group organizes an event around the accused person they say she’s facing years in prison “for being a Black trans woman” and for being the victim of a hate crime. What her charges are and what she’s being accused of are never actually mentioned. When anybody brings this up (not just members of STP-CLT) people are accused of believing the State (cops, the court system, etc.) over a Black trans woman. The fact of the matter is, the accusation that she engaged in sexual activity with a minor didn’t just come from police. The initial accusation came from the victim and his family, leading up to her assault. We are trusting members of the community over the police and we always will. She wasn’t attacked in a completely random hate crime, she was attacked by family members AND the boy she is accused of having sexual contact with. Her attack was a direct response to her relationship with the 15-year-old boy. This, however, is almost never mentioned and the story of what happened is always changing. It would be naïve, fake, and opportunistic for us to say that her being a Black trans woman played no role in her attack. There’s a strong possibility that had she been white, cis, or a man the response would have been drastically different. However, our response shouldn’t be ignoring that she’s accused of rape just because other people can get away with it easier. In times of HB2, a bill that criminalizes trans women, painting them as “men in dresses” that want to sexually prey on children, and at a time where Black trans women are being murdered at high rates, we understand the need for Black trans women to be seen as human, worthy of respect and life. But giving someone, humanity means being able to see them as a whole person, not a romanticized version we’ve created in response to a demonized one. For example, Black and brown men are portrayed in the media as violent and nobody can forget Trumps comments about Mexican being rapists. Fighting this with ‘Black and Brown men can’t be rapists!” misses the point. It ignores the sexual violence so many people in our communities’ deal with by others from the same community. Sexual assault victims in marginalized communities have been silenced because the person who assaulted them faces oppression too. They’re told it will “make us all look bad” or play into stereotypes. (See Bill Cosby, R. Kelly, and Chris Brown for example.) Serve The People Charlotte is refusing to prioritize image over people’s safety. People aren’t rapists because of what communities they come from. There’s rapists in all communities, it’s our job to isolate and out them to keep people safe. Our accusations of anti-Blackness and transmisogyny don’t come from us being anti-Black and transmisogynistic, they come from us not supporting someone accused of rape. At least 15 trans woman have been killed in 2017, an overwhelmingly majority being Black (one being a Black trans woman killed here in charlotte, Sherell Faulkner May 16th.) Most trans women aren’t killed by police, but by members of our own communities. That’s why it’s so important we unite our communities to protect each other and hold each other accountable. Transphobic and anti-Black ideas are present throughout all communities and that’s why we won’t ignore how her being a Black trans woman has affected her attack. The group accusing us says they think Serve The People Charlotte wants to see a Black trans woman in prison. We want the accused person to be held accountable for their actions, and that’s something this group is not doing, with or without a jail involved. Most rapists never see jail time, it’s obvious that we can’t rely on the police or the court system to deliver justice. But what does community/people’s justice look like? What does protecting our community without state power look like? If we’re not going to send rapists to prison then we must at least remove them from our communities and divest ourselves from their support systems. Serve The People Charlotte is doing this by not supporting or attending events organized around her and by keeping her out of our spaces. The only way we would unite with the group of activists making these accusations would be is if they were to join in isolating the accused person they are supporting from any communities they are involved in. Rapists and people who have a history of perpetuating sexual violence and their supporters must be isolated from political organizing communities because they are not spaces to find new people to abuse. The masses must be protected from rapists because rape is an anti-people crime.

#Serve the People #Charlotte