#but it seriously fucks me up how much he tries to de escalate the situation

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about the way ghost doesn't hesitate to start killing shadows when graves betrays them but soap only takes one hostage

you can almost hear the voice in his head telling him it doesn't have to be this way; they can still talk it out

"i'm calling shepherd"

his first instinct when confronted with betrayal is to play it by the books; to go up the chain and sort it out democratically. that goes against everything we've seen him do; he’s quick to drop his enemies and bucks authority at every chance except for the one time he's confronted with the barrels of his allies' guns

he wants a peaceful resolution; for the first time we've ever seen, he doesn't want violence to be the answer

there has to be another fix, a solution that doesn't end with him killing the same men he's been working with; his friends

nothing's happened yet

it doesn't have to go this way

but ghost has been betrayed before. he knows the way this ends; either with him six feet under or his enemy

he doesn't hesitate

it's only when they knock alejandro out that soap shoots; when they spill the first blood and cross a line they can never come back from

only when ghost orders him to run and he has to cover his retreat

and somewhere along the line, between civilians’ screams and taunting voices, between his shaking breath and ghost steady in his ear, that naivety is stripped away; his trust turned to teeth that he uses to sink into throats of men he'd have given his life for

"be careful who you trust, sergeant; people you know can hurt you the most"

he's learned the price of trust

just like ghost did

but unlike ghost, he has someone to guide him through the aftermath

"good advice, It"

#i might crown myself the ceo of soap meta at this point i love digging into this boy #but it seriously fucks me up how much he tries to de escalate the situation #invoking shepherd like hes trying to remind graves of who funds him and the power he holds #the consequences he’ll face if he goes through with this. just stop and think it through first #only to be stricken silent when graves drops ‘general shepherd sends his regards’ #he doesnt say a single word after that #ghosts the one who picks up the lead for him ‘he knows about this?’ #he can still function through his shock and the gut wrenching betrayal bc he’s been through this before #and he knows freezing will get him killed #but soap doesnt #he freezes #getting shot is something he wouldve been through before but being shot by an ally? #at that moment he isnt sergeant mactavish #hes johnny and hes in shock #and thats why ghost yelling for johnny doesnt reach him #he only breaks through when he calls him soap. when hes forced back into a soldiers mindset #thats all thats keeping him going. he isnt johnny a man whos been betrayed by a friend #hes a soldier following direct orders to keep himself alive #i can only imagine the after #when he lets his rage run out and is faced with the vulnerable and painful betrayal #but ghosts there to help him through that too. there for johnny the way he wished someone had been there for him #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #soapghost

[riddlemetarot]

Hello, Thanks so much for your reading(about if my bf is serious about a future with me). I have another question or follow up question I forgot to ask. He seems to be like a compulsive flirter/wandering eye. we have fought a lot about it but he seems to have a really hard time with stopping virtual flirting. afaik he doesn’t escalate to full on cheating or taking things offline, but part of my discomfort is not being sure if it really is like innocuous with no serious intention behind it and he will respect his commitment. or if it might escalate at some point and he actually is trying to search/connect with other women. he has cheated on me once before(i’ve tried to be understanding because our circumstances were really different at the time) and seems to have changed but this obviously bothers me and ive almost broken up with him several times. but i also see he doesn’t seem serious really he seems to be fucking around(because it’s all talk no action and i’ve seen enough to know there’s no follow through)? and he acts like im crazy for taking it so seriously because he’s clearly not (in his mind). even though it hurts regardless, to me it makes a big difference in how seriously i take it as a threat. and he seems to be slowly de-escalating his behavior. i know he’s serious about being with me but sometimes i’m not sure if he’s also trying to have someone on the side. can i trust him to be faithful? or is he playing with me?

No worries at all!!

That is quite a situation. From the previous reading I felt he could be dependable but let’s see if he’ll be faithful shall we?

Ten of cups reversed, 8 of cups reversed, 4 of cups reversed.

I feel like this is saying perhaps he’s not necessarily playing with you but that he doesn’t want to leave you. He might be with you for selfish reasons indeed. From my previous reading to this it feels like he’s with you because it’s easier for him than starting something new. He’s stuck and undecided. He definitely wants more though. Whether that’s with you or someone else I can’t tell.

Some advice for you:

The hierophant reversed, 8 of pentacles, the chariot reversed.

I don’t feel like either you nor he can really control his wandering eye right now. He is acting without being considerate but it feels like he’s trying. But on a personal note? The gaslighting??? Big huge ginormous red flag!!! It’s up to you what you do here. You seem to know what may need to be done but don’t want to. I can not make this decision for you but I truly truly hope you will be okay and get through this 🖤

#asks #anon #tarot

[thesealfriend]

not done a Bad Brain Time post in a while but I need a long-form vent, buckle up (cw for intoxication-related talk)

So I've been doing door security/event steward etc training for the past few weeks, and it's been a variety of things like first aid, licensing laws, de-escalation and conflict management, and even physical intervention training (safe use of force for self-defence and removal of dangerous persons)

But the conflict management bit was the most eye-opening for me, not because I learned anything new and surprising, but because I didn't? Like, we were told going into it that knowing how to handle these situations was difficult and stressful and you might not get it straight away, that figuring out how to deal with people diplomatically when they're under the influence is stuff that takes time, and we shouldn't feel bad if we're struggling.

Now, this is a course of 8 cishet men, a single genderfluid guy (his words), and me. Some of the cishet guys have military backgrounds, some are just Quite Rough in general, and all of them are from low-income deprived areas (hence the government paid for our training). These people were being told not to feel bad if they weren't sure how to handle this kind of situation, because of how potentially dangerous and traumatic it could be.

And we got down to practising this kind of thing in improv scenarios, like "Okay you're gonna ask this person to leave, he's allowed to say or do anything short of physically hurting you, also he's gonna be intoxicated with Some Substance, good luck", and I was immediately right in there calming the guy down and escorting him away and letting the aggression and hatred bounce right off me, and it was second nature. It was nothing new. It was the exact kind of shit I've been doing since I was 10 years old and my family had been taking the festive season a bit too seriously.

Like at first I thought it was easy because it was improv, but lemme tell you, improv is scary. I cried the last two times I tried to do improv. Pretending it was real actually made it *more* comfortable to deal with (and also desensitised me to improv, so I can be good at that now, yay?). And nobody else seemed to be doing it quite so effortlessly - like they were managing easily enough, but it was clear they were Being Big Tough Guys Who Knew It'd Be Okay even if they weren't sure what was happening.

But yeah, I always knew it was kinda fucked up that I've been the Responsible Adult for my intoxicated relatives since I was in primary school, but I think hearing how difficult a job that's meant to be for grown adults has made me realise just How fucked up it was. Cause that's just, who I am now. I'm the Party Dad, always on edge making sure everyone else is safe, never fully letting my own guard down. And I was happy to do that when I thought it was by choice, just part of being a General Dad Friend.

Now I'm realising just how much of a trauma response it is, and realising how much of my entire personality is a trauma response.

Idk. It just sucks.

#mild rant #ramblings #mental health #personal

[kazewhara]

# — pairing: modern!xiao x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, xiao, xinyan

# — warnings: suggestive content. (minors, beware.) swearing.

# — tags: suggestive content, modern au, pining, first kisses, smart ass reader,

# — notes: this was completely unplanned, like idk what happened, but it ended up becoming formatted (barely)... anyways, as always, reblogs are appreciated and i hope you enjoy!

✧ — 🍃 — ✧

xiao is somehow a magnet for tense situations

more often than not it's violence related. it's been that way since high school

he didn't ever do anything to initiate fights, but he certainly didn't run from them easier

usually, if someone tries to pick a fight with xiao, he'll just stare them down and ask:

"are you going to hit me?"

maybe... seven times out of ten, that works in de-escalating a situation. his fearlessness is unsettling to those who are just peacocking for no reason

but to those who aren't easily intimidated, that riles them up and they throw the first punch

xiao is no pushover -- "mama-ain't-raise-no-bitch" style.

he'll fight anyone who comes at him sideways, even if you tell him to leave it alone

but if they came at him the wrong way, why should he just let that slide?

all of this to say that you've had to patch xiao up a LOT over the years, even in college.

including tonight.

you two were attending a party thrown by campus superstar xinyan

it was a little rowdy because her music was high energy, but it was good vibes all around, everyone was having a good time

...until xiao accidentally bumped into someone and spilled their drink

he apologized right away, but this person was one of those "do you know how much this cost?!" types

xiao, who is not going to stand for any of that, immediately digs his heels in

you weren't there to witness it unfortunately... you only found out about the fight after xiao had knocked the person out, but not without injuries of his own

xiao finds you pretty easily in the mass of people and you panic when you see his nose bleeding

xinyan points you to a room and tells you where the first aid kit is, and you drag a very unwilling and unhappy xiao to a room to patch him up.

"seriously, you couldn't have kept your hands to yourself for one fucking night, xiao?!" you scold your best friend harshly as you inspect his bruised face. it's not terrible, but whoever hit him must have been wearing rings, because there's scratches in quite a few places. they got him pretty good.

xiao glares down at you. he's never liked being yelled at, especially when he felt he was in tbe right. "they hit me first." his brows twitch when you grab his hands roughly and start to clean his split knuckles. "you know i don't just fight people for no reason, so shut it."

you tsk and dab some antiseptic on the wounds. "you're so fucking annoying." you curse. "for once, xiao -- just once -- you could've just left it alone. if they didn't back down, then you should've got help." you squeeze his hand and curse quietly. "you could've called me."

xiao doesn't say anything. you seem to be pissed not only at the fact that he got into another fight, but also at the fact that you weren't there to help him.

you were never around when xiao got into fights. ever. he made sure of that. you always saw the aftermath -- the suspensions, the detentions, the nosebleeds, and so on, but not once have you ever seen him in action. call it cliché, but he didn't want you to see him like that.

part of that was because he wanted to maintain some shred of dignity. he never escapes a fight unscathed; he doesn't want you to see him getting hit. but the other part -- the biggest part -- was because he doesn't want you to be afraid of him.

there's no use in hiding the fact that he's a fighter, but one of xiao's biggest fears is that you will see him fighting and never let him touch you ever again. it's a selfish, dirty fear and he knows it -- especially since he can't exactly touch you the way he really wants to -- but he doesn't want to lose what he's already got.

"i never call you before a fight." xiao grumbles. "now seriously, knock it off."

you scoff. "fine." you finish bandaging his fingers and grab his face roughly, relishing in the pained grunt you get in response. "don't bitch about it now. you got yourself into this mess, so you gotta deal with the consequences."

"that doesn't mean you have to slap me." xiao pulls one of your hands off of his face with a roll of his eyes. "can you just shut up and clean my face?"

"why, so you can go back down there and get your ass handed to you again?" you taunt as you place a bandage on his jaw. xiao squints at you threateningly. you know he never loses a fight and you know how much he values his pride. you may be his best friend, but you really know how to push his buttons.

xiao tries to think of a way to retort without sounding like a five year old. "no, so i can go home." he seethes. "you can stay here alone for all i care."

you hum, unbothered. you don't even give him a response, you just clean his face with deft fingers. you may have gotten used to administering first aid, but xiao's never gotten used to the proximity necessary for it. he hates the way his heart jumps to his throat when you tilt his head to the side, carefully inspecting him for anything you may have missed. there are times when he wishes you could be this close and not have to scold him for fighting someone.

there are times when he wishes he could just... hold you.

not to say that he can't, because he already does. you two have been friends for over ten years -- you've been tangled together for such a long time that being close to you really shouldn't be the worst of his problems. but it is, and xiao thinks less of himself for it. he's become greedy over the years.

"christ, are you even listening?" your voice fades in suddenly and xiao opens his eyes. he didn't even realize he'd closed them.

"what?"

"i said i'm done. go get yourself an uber and go rest, loser." you sigh as you pack the stuff away. "pain in my ass for ten years." you grumble.

xiao raises a brow at you. "are you going to say that to my face?"

"what, you think i won't?" you glare up at him. "i said, you're a pain in my ass." you reach up to flick your best friend's forehead but he catches your wrist and squeezes it.

"don't even think about it." he warns.

"you gonna fight me if i do?"

"you're going to lose." xiao scans your face closely, not liking the way your mischievous grin starts to grow. "i'm serious."

you must not take him seriously, because you use your other hand to flick his forehead with all your strength anyways. xiao's first instinct is to grab your other wrist, but as soon as you try to pull yourself back out of his grip, you pull too hard and topple backwards, taking xiao with you.

the first thing that crosses xiao's mind is that he's definitely seen something like this in those corny movies you like to watch.

you two are in a compromising position, with him hovering over you, pinning your wrists to the bed. it's not the first time you've been in a position like this, but something’s... off. xiao's already been battling with himself for the past fifteen minutes about this exact type of situation; being thrust directly into it does very little to help his conscience.

to make matters worse, you're not saying anything. you're just... staring at him. almost like you were expecting something. xiao has to force the next words out of his mouth.

"i told you," he says lowly, his voice foreign to his own ears, "you're going to lose."

you shudder almost imperceptibly beneath him, but he catches it. you wriggle your fingers, but still make no move to get out of his grasp. "and what happens if i lose, xiao?"

this is very, very dangerous territory. xiao doesn't know how you two got here, but you needed to get out of it fast before you did something you were going to regret.

he knows that this isn't safe, but he doesn't budge. he can't. greed locks him in place as he drinks in how vulnerable you are like this. you're completely helpless and yet you're not making any moves to fix it. xiao swallows tightly.

it wouldn't hurt to take just a little more... would it?

"do you really want to find out?" xiao can't stop his eyes from dropping to your lips. they're back on your eyes in a second, but he knows you saw that. his stomach flips when he sees you do the same. "losers tend to get hurt."

he tries his best to scare you, to get you to stop. because if you let him take any more, he doesn't think he'll be able to.

there's a slight curl to your lips that's between a smirk and a fond smile. "you won't hurt me, xiao."

xiao's not religious, but he starts to say a prayer in his head. "how can you be so sure of that?"

"i know you won't." again, your eyes drop to his lips. your brows furrow as though you're about to say something but you think against it. you smile invitingly instead. "we've been friends for years, xiao. i know you're thinking what i'm thinking."

you really weren't making this essy on him. the tips of his ears burn at your call-out. there's no hiding anything from you, really. granted, he's been hiding his feelings for you for almost six years, but you were really perceptive when you wanted to be. he just hates that you choose now of all times to notice when he wants you; his ears burn hotter when he wonders if you know just how much.

"if you want the truth, i'm really hoping we're not on the same page right now." he confesses. when you frown at him, he sighs. "what happens after that, then? if we really are thinking the same thing."

you roll your eyes and xiao starts to see the beginnings of a blush forming on your face. "there is no fucking way you made me pull some cheesy romance drama shit just for you to consider the pros and cons of making out with me."

"huh?"

"oh my god, you're so dense." you notice that xiao's grip has loosened on your wrists, so you free one of your hands and pull your best friend closer to your face, chuckling at the way his amber eyes blow wide. he stammers your name and you see his face start to turn pink. "do you get what i want you to do now?"

xiao, who was clearly unprepared for this outcome, is at a complete loss for words. it's moments like these when you remember that despite his popularity throughout the years, he's still got very little experience in this area. it's funny though, watching your hard-ass best friend be reduced to a blushing mess as the thought of kissing you.

"stop laughing, oh my god." xiao grumbles. he's not looking at you anymore. "you're so difficult."

"am i the difficult one here? i think i made myself pretty clear." you pause. "but, i mean, if you really don't want to, then i'll stop. i'm sorry, i kinda got carried away."

xiao scoffs at you. "now you apologize? you're such a handful."

"excuse me?"

"shut up." xiao murmurs. he doesn't give you a second to think before he's closing the distance between you two, pressing his lips to yours. it's hesitant and shy, like he's testing to make sure that this is really what you want -- like he is really what you want.

he eases up after a second to say something but you don't let him, tugging him back down into a firmer kiss. that's all the confirmation xiao needs to adjust himself, propping himself up on his forearm and squeezing the wrist he still has in his hand.

"fucking finally," he grumbles into the kiss. you make a mental note to tease him about that later. the second you swipe your tongue against xiao's bottom lip, you know that you two weren't going to be going home for a while, if at all.

xiao nips at your lip and a small noise escapes you against your will, causing him to hold your wrist even tighter. there might be a bruise there at this rate.

you make another mental note to apologize to xinyan in the morning.

✧ this... was not supposed to end up this way LMAOOO but idk i chickened out on the angst last minute bc best friend xiao needs to be boyfriend xiao much much faster okay.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #modern genshin au #z scribbles #good lord this was so... wow #like i wasnt expecting this to turn out the way that it did

[write-ur-wrongs]

Thank you sweet anon for your request!! Again, I didn’t fully proof-read this bad boy so please forgive the errors! I hope you enjoy some angry Jealous!Geralt!

A/N Request: Geralt meeting your ex who thinks that you're still together/or tries to get you back in front of geralt?

The great hall was alive with royals and nobility alike. Laughter and chatter mingled easily with the sound of the band’s lively jig and the soft tinkering of fine cutlery.

The hosts had expected you and Geralt to make an appearance at dusk, but neither of you were particularly fond of all the fuss royalty liked to put up, so it wasn’t until long past sunset that you joined the party. Jaskier on the other hand, was overjoyed at the prospect of attending such an illustrious affair. He’d put up a fuss around noon and insisted he be allowed to take Roach so that he could arrive in time to make a strong impression with all in attendance. Of course, Geralt had refused, so he had gone off on foot, strutting and sighing dramatically.

Now, as you and Geralt did your best to navigate the already flushed crowd, you found yourself wishing you’d arrived sooner. It was easier to avoid people when they were being stifled by a sobering social awkwardness; after hours of ales and fine wine, however, people seemed to get a little too comfortable for your liking.

“I hate these ridiculous evenings,” Geralt grumbled, holding his arms close to his body uncomfortably.

“Maybe if we saved less lives,” you said, biting back a smile, “they’d be less inclined to insist we attend.”

Geralt only responded with a grunt and a roll of his eyes, which made you laugh lightly as you looped your arm through his and led him deeper into the crowd.

“C’mon love,” you said, a slight tease to your tone, “let’s find the free food and drink we were promised, yeah?”  

You laughed again as he fought back a smile. “Atta boy Geralt, don’t smile too much or you’ll ruin your reputation as the big bad wolf.”  

“Will you shut up,” he muttered, handing you a goblet of wine.

“I don’t think I will,” you said downing the wine in one go, “and could you hand me an ale?”

“I don’t think I will,” he teased, kissing your temple lightly before handing you his mug to share. You take a slow sip, your eyes twinkling as you held Geralt’s gaze, already feeling the liquor warming you from the inside. You hand him back his drink and kiss him lightly in thanks.

“Do you want to –”

You were both pulled away from your conversation by a loud clang from across the room. Geralt furrowed his brows and turned towards the sound quickly, untangling his arm from yours before reaching for his sword. He immediately relaxed as the familiar shouts and accusations resounded through the hall.

You collectively sighed your frustration as you saw Jaskier get chased into a corner by an angry nobleman; no doubt his latest conquest’s husband, who was not quite as pleased to hear the bard’s dulcet tones.

“It’s your turn,” Geralt said, downing his ale before reaching for a second helping.

“I don’t think so! I’m the one who saved him from that fisherman at the last village! It’s your turn,” you said, poking him in the chest before stealing his mug and holding it away from him.

“Actually,” he said, his low gravelly voice reverberating through you as he leaned across your body to grab his drink from your hand, “it was my turn at the last village, but you just couldn’t help yourself and jumped in to save the day. Rules are rules my dove; it’s your turn.”

You scoffed incredulously at his nerve, but shook your head in resignation; he was right after all, the rules you outlined were clear and the cycling of turns was strict.

“Well fuck. I’m taking this ale though,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder before stalking off towards the commotion.

Geralt chuckled lowly and leaned against a marble pillar, marveling at the way you made your way through the crowd. A wandering waiter came by and offered him another ale which he accepts with a polite smile, not taking his eyes off you.

He loved watching you de-escalate social situations. Sometimes it was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one who just melted when you spoke to them directly – you were effortlessly charming and completely disarming. You once managed to convince a band of attacking thieves to stand down so efficiently that by the end of the night, they ended up joining you for dinner around the fire. Yes, Geralt was the professional when it came to handling monsters, but you were the people person of the group.

Watching you now was no exception. Your body language, the way your warm smiled reached your eyes with ease, how smoothly you managed put yourself between Jaskier and the furious man; it was impressive to say the least.

Unfortunately, his attention was pulled away from you suddenly.

“I can’t believe Y/N is here tonight, I thought I’d never see her again!”

At the sound of your name, Geralt whipped his head in the direction of the speaker, cat-like eyes scanning the crowd swiftly.

“Yeah, the very same Y/N I’ve told you about. An amazing lay, I swear it!”

The man in question was holding court half a dozen other knights; they kept snickering and looking off at you in turns. They were teasing him, egging him on for details.

“She’s not as sweet as she looks,” the man stated confidently, “don’t let that smile fool you gentlemen. The last time I took her was in an alley! The little whore was mad for it – couldn’t wait for it, needed it right there and then.”

Geralt was fuming.

He pushed his way through the crowd with great force and little care. He was worried about your honour. Your reputation in the courts – that was all. That was enough to explain the way rage seethed through him and the strange urge to be sick that was hitting him in waves. He was concerned for you as a partner and a friend.

He wasn’t jealous.

“Gods her skin… smelled so good, felt even better… I’m getting her back tonight gents,” he boasted, puffing out his chest.

“You don’t have a chance,” said the knight closest to the bastard bragging about shagging you, “it’s been ages since you’ve last seen each other, and if she’s as good as you say, she definitely found someone new.”

Damn right, Geralt thought furiously, swallowing the bile bubbling at the back of his throat.

“No, no, believe me the way she mewled and screamed for me? She’ll do more than remember,” he said, disgusting confidence dripping off every word, “she’ll beg to have me back.”

You’ll beg for mercy when I crush your fucking skull you pathetic –

His murderous march was abruptly interrupted by Jaskier. The bard cut in front of him and planted himself squarely before him, chattering on incomprehensibly.

Geralt’s eyes were bugging out in panic as he watched the bastard strut confidently towards you. He tried to push past Jaskier but the bard was quick to match him in posture.

“Look I know you’re upset with me for ruining your evening but she came after me,” he insisted, “I mean I can’t blame her the song his perhaps my most romantic sonnet. Speaking of my writing – Geralt can you look at me when I am sharing my musings with you, please? Thank you – as I was saying, Y/N inspired me tonight to write this song –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, “move!”

“Wha – why?” Jaskier pivoted on the spot – keeping Geralt’s path blocked – as he sought the source of his friends’ fury. When he saw that you were speaking politely to some knight he scoffed loudly before turning back.

“Oh-ho, no,” he laughed, “you’re jealous of that oaf? Geralt, seriously?”

“I am not jealous,” he spat, only able to look at Jaskier for a moment before his glare shot back up towards you.

“She’s just being polite! Seriously you always assume the worst in people, Geralt, it’s sad.”

“I see people as they are,” he muttered, watching closely as the knight took a half-step towards you, he let out a menacing growl when you didn’t step backwards. “For what they are.”

“Okay then why can’t you see that’s just some poor sap who, I don’t know, maybe wants to thank Y/N for her help in saving this kingdom.”

“Shut up, will you? I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.”

“You don’t need a Witchers’ hearing to know what’s happening over there,” he brambled on putting on voices as he acted out the conversation, “’Hi I’m Y/N’, ‘Hi I’m an unimportant but very grateful knight, pleased to meet you blah blah blah…”

“Fuck, Jaskier, shut UP –” he stopped himself when he heard your laugh, the deep full laugh you normally reserved for him.

Jaskier heard your laugh too, and turned his head to double check he’d heard right. When he saw the familiar twinkle in your eye, he looked Geralt with wide eyes.

“They know each other?” he asked.

“They,” he started, struggling to get the words out, “t-they knew each other.”

“Wait you don’t mean,” Jaskier started, connecting the dots, “that they knew each other intimately?” He wagged his fingers suggestively as he said the last word.

When Geralt’s only reply was a low, seething hum, Jaskier whistled lowly before shaking his head.

“Well that explains,” he waved his hands vaguely at Geralt, “this reaction.”

Geralt was about to shove the bard aside when he saw you waving him over. You were smiling widely as you waved, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He cleared his throat and pushed Jaskier lightly before charging towards you with the bard in tow.

“Ah, finally!” you exclaimed, swiftly wrapping your arms around his bicep, pulling him close, “Geralt, I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Hoeck. Hoeck this is Geralt, my partner,” as you spoke, you moved to loop his arm around your waist, “and this is Jaskier, he’s responsible for the wonderful music tonight.”

“The White Wolf,” said Hoek, sizing Geralt up, “wow - what an honour.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and took the knight’s hand in a tight grip, feeling immense satisfaction watching the man wince.

“And -erm, thank you sir Jaskier, for the wonderful music,” he said, trying and failing to subtly rub at his hand.

“Thank you, good sir. I speaking of, I should get back out there.” He shot you and Geralt a look and swung his lute around his back before strumming a few notes. “If you’ll excuse me.”

You all nodded to him as he strode off, beckoning the band to join him.

An awkward silence settled over the three of you. Geralt was clearly seething as he held your waist in a tighter grasp than necessary. After a beat, you shot Hoek a tight-lipped smile and made up some excuse about needing to say hello to the king and queen before the night came to a close.

“Ah certainly,” he said, disappointment obvious, “well if you ever find yourself in need of company –”

“I won’t,” you said quickly.

“She won’t,” Geralt growled, his deep voice overlapping with yours.

At that, the knight swallowed thickly and walked back towards his group with tail between his legs and his hand held close to his chest.

Once alone, you turned in Geralt’s arms and looked up at his sour face accusingly.

“Why did it take you so long to come rescue me!” you said, tugging playfully at his hair.

“Didn’t look like you wanted to be saved,” he said lowly, eyes still alight with jealousy, “and Jaskier got in my way.”

“That’s a shit excuse and a weak lie. He was all over me! It took all I had not to rip the bastard’s arms off!” you said, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you. “Gods he has some nerve.”

“Hm,” he hissed, “you’re right about that.”

“Geralt,” you looked up at him carefully and gently caressed the crease between his brows, “this is more than jealousy. What’s going on?”

Geralt hesitated before relaxing his face into your hand and took a small sigh. “It’s nothing. And I’m not jealous.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, “Can you look at me? Please?”

Reluctantly, he brought his eyes down to meet yours.

“Thank you,” you said, cupping his face before moving your hands to rest on his chest, “can you talk to me?”

“Don’t be patronizing,” he warned.

“Don’t be obstinate,” you countered.

Geralt rolled his eyes at you before pulling you closer to him. “Maybe I was a little jealous, and maybe,” he sighed deeply, “I was a little worried.”

“Geralt,” you started, your heart breaking at the sight of him, “you have nothing to worry about when it comes to us. I need you to know that.”

“I do,” he said quietly, “but the way he was talking about you – knowing he had been with you in that way...” Geralt stopped himself as he felt his anger come roaring back at the memory. “I wanted to kill him.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have been upset with you if you had,” you said, jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little. Your time with Hoek was beyond brief; he was nice enough at first but quickly he became aggressive and possessive. You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked back on your time together and you hated that your beloved witcher was letting this get to him.

“Oh, Geralt,” you murmured when you realized he wasn’t letting up, “I’m yours. Completely and unwaveringly yours.” You kissed his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips.

He kissed you back slowly at first, but his kiss deepened as you leaned into him. Geralt pulled away just a little and rested his forehead against yours.

“Y/N… I’m – I love you so much…” he whispered, “it’s just… the things he said about you –” he started, hating himself for needing to hear your side of the story.

“Either untrue or exaggerated, that I can promise.”

“Something about an alley…?” Geralt asked, holding his breath.

“Oh ew! That was a terrible night,” you shuddered, “he was so insistent! Wouldn’t take no for an answer – Wait, what was he saying about it? Gods, maybe I’ll kill him.” Anger and humiliation burned at the back of your throat.

Seeing your visceral reaction, Geralt was immediately overcome by feelings of guilt, for making you relive the memory, relief, that your reaction was so negative, and rage, knowing that not only did this pompous ass make forceful advances on you but he always lied about it to a crowd.

Feeling the intensity of your anger radiating off you, Geralt was about to suggest that the two of you left before you did anything you’d regret when Jaskier came running through the crowd shouting that it was time to leave.

You took off running behind the bard, holding Geralt’s hand tightly as you raced down the castle’s corridors.

“Why are we running?” you shouted, a little breathless.

“I might have added a little something to our charming friend’s drink, and he might be having a very intense negative reaction to it!” he said over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed through fits of laughter, “Jaskier!”

“He’ll be fine! Eventually!” he added, he turned and ran backwards so he could shoot you a wink before adding, “No one messes with our girl, right Geralt?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at his friend before he ran up behind you and scooped you up bridal-style – all without breaking his stride.

“Damn right,” he said, smiling widely at Jaskier before planting a quick kiss to your temple.

#geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #the witcher #the witcher netflix #jealous!geralt #request #fanfic #fanfiction #witcher fic #witcher geralt #witcher x reader #jaskier

[goffilolo]

Revival of Midoriya Izuku: Chapter 4 "My depression may be chronic, but my ass is iconic"

I bet you didn't think you were ever gonna see an update. well neither did I. What can I say? writing with a broken hand is a struggle.

Link to the fic on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929483/chapters/81090403

Izuku’s first day of high school was interesting, to say the least, or it would’ve been if he actually went to school instead of spreading mayhem amongst UA’s first years. Shinjuku Metropolitan has been rather lenient in regards to his attendance or lack of thereof, thanks to whatever bullshit Shin wrote to the school on his behalf to ensure that the faculty would accommodate his ‘condition’. Which is just fancy wording for ‘I got a get out of school card’. Truth be told, this is probably the best thing that the doctor has ever done for him since Izuku was nowhere near ready to return to mainstream education, not after everything that has happened in middle school. The last thing he needed were looks of pity and guilt-induced niceties from people who otherwise had no problem laughing at his misfortune.

So instead Izuku has decided to spend his time productively - if you could count tormenting your ex-childhood friend and having an accidental family reunion as such.

Uncle Shouta always had a bit of a mean streak to him, although it never really felt as such when Izuku himself interacted with him. From what little of his childhood he could remember that didn’t involve trauma and discrimination, his uncle was a somewhat kind, but grumpy man. He believed in a brand of tough love - that somehow did not correspond with the way his mother raised him in the slightest and went above and beyond for things and people he held close to his heart. Sure they haven’t seen each other since Izuku was 4, but if his uncle’s empty threats from today’s Quirk Apprehension Test are anything to go by, not much has changed.

Which brings him back to now; sitting in an empty classroom that he does not belong to - a school that he does not belong to, writing down his ever-so-detailed notes about the quirks he will only be able to admire from afar. Not much has changed , indeed.

It almost feels like a betrayal. Almost , being the operative word, because he has no reason to cling onto the things that he no longer cares about - should no longer care about, for they had died along with him that day on the roof, and were properly buried within the four walls that Izuku called his own during his stay in the hospital.

But well...looks like today Izuku is in a mood to dig up old corpses.

Metaphorically, that is.

“God, you’re still here!”

“Kacchan we’ve talked about this” he replied, rather dramatically “God is dead and all that’s left is me”

Kacchan clearly did not appreciate his superior sense of humour, if the lack of response is anything to go by. “No seriously, why are you still here?”

“I could ask you the same”

“I actually study here you fuckwit!” the blond exclaimed in his ever explosive fashion “Besides I had to come back and get my change of clothes since that demonic pet of yours was sitting on them when we were all leaving for the test”

“Huh, that actually reminds me...where’s Bandit?”

“Oi, don’t change the subject you shitty Deku” replied Bakugou, as he kicked one of the chairs over towards the desk that was currently occupied by Izuku and slumped down in it in a way that would perhaps appear as non-caring to absolutely no one “I didn’t know your uncle was a pro-hero.”

Ah, so that’s what he was bothered about.

“That makes the two of us”

“Wait, really?!”

“Honestly Kacchan! Did you really think that IF I knew my uncle was a pro-hero that I would be able to ever shut up about it?”

“No way in hell!”

“Exactly!”

Well, now that the topic of his uncle has been cleared up, there wasn’t much else to talk about, at least not much that wouldn’t result in collateral damage or a Bakugou shitshow 2.0. Both of the boys were well aware of it of course, but let it never be said that either of them could be stopped by things like common sense, especially when it came to avoiding conversational land mines.

“So...what are you scribbling over here?” asked Bakugou in a rather poor and possibly the most awkward attempt at establishing small talk that has ever been known to man and sheep kind alike.

“Ok, no! That is not happening” snapped Izuku, who very much saw where this was going and was having none of it “We are NOT having a civil conversation!”

“Why the fuck not?!” replied the blond, his anger as booming and apparent as his quirk.

“Because that is not something we DO Kacchan!” shouted the teen, banging his hands against the desk, his notebook long forgotten.

“Well, maybe we should?!” exclaimed Bakugou, who was quick to anger, yet quicker to notice his ex-friend’s unusual mood as he tried to make an effort to de-escalate the situation.

“Oh? Should we really? !” sneered Izuku, feeling the kind of anger and disdain he hasn’t felt in a long time, not since that fateful day in the ward.

“That’s rich coming from you” he continued as he stood up form the chair, unable to keep still in his fury as he circled the classroom “All you ever did was shout at me, insult me and throw baseless accusations at me left and right for god knows how long, but suddenly YOU want to have a conversation with me? Isn’t it enough that we kinda talked about our feelings that one time when I was still stuck in the psych ward?!”

Honestly, what do you expect Kacchan?” asked Izuku, feeling raw and hysteric and all kinds of wrong, spilling his metaphorical guts to his ex-bully/friend “That we will just start having normal conversations like nothing ever happened, act like we’re friends or some shit? Because let’s be honest, we haven’t been friends for a very long time, that ship has sunk long before I even attempted suicide! ”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” screamed Bakugou, feeling equally angry, but mostly out of his depth in the situation. He expected Deku to possibly mock him for his awkward attempts at small talk. What the blond didn’t expect was for him to snap, in a way that was somewhat familiar but not quite, as even the few times they’ve spoken back when Izuku was in the hospital or when he got released, his tempter felt controlled in a way it was not at the moment. Katsuki wasn’t sure what exactly triggered such a strong response, but he was not looking forward to having another fight, at least not one initiated by him.

“I’m not trying to pretend it didn’t happen” he explained “I just want to move forward. I’m not the same asshole I was last year and neither are you, so I don’t want to be stuck on how things used to be ! It makes me feel like I’m going nowhere.”

“Ok! Fine! You wanna talk?! Then let me fuckin TELL you something! You asked me what I was ‘scribbling’ over here?” exclaims Izuku, as he stomps his way back towards the desk and snatches his notebook, waving it aggressively in front of Bakugou “IT’S THE SAME STUFF I’VE BEEN SCRIBBLING THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME!” he screamed “Those quirk analysis notebooks you used to mock me for? It’s another one of those because as it turns out  I still AM the same asshole I was last year! Now then, can YOU tell ME how many of those I’ve had?”

“Thirteen…” mutters Bakugou, feeling like he’s walking into a proverbial trap.

“Good boy, you can count! Now, can you tell me what number does it say on this one?” sneers Izuku sarcastically as he points once again at the notebook in question.

“Is this a trick question? There’s fuckin nothing on it”

“EXACTLY! And you want to know why?” screamed the distressed teen, no longer feeling angry, but tired and vulnerable, unable to stop himself from having a conversation he didn’t even want to be a part of “Because these notes used to serve a purpose, a purpose I no longer have. Hero Analysis for the Future , to be exact. But guess what Kacchan…” he whispered, no longer looking at the red eyes that used to bring him so much pain “...I no longer have a future…”

The blond hung his head in shame as he listened to his childhood friend break down in tears while hiding his face behind the very notebook that started their argument, all the while Trash Bandit who woke up due to their screaming was trying to get his owner’s attention with pathetically quiet ‘baaah’s.

“You have the right to be angry with me, after all this shit I put you through” stated Bakugou after what felt like an endless silence broken only by Izuku’s stuttering sobs. He never thought of himself as a coward, but at this moment he could not find enough bravery to sit face to face with the crying teen.

“I KNOW that you shithead-” replied Izuku as he shakily tried to take a breath in between the sobs “-but what good is that gonna do?! You’ve actually admitted that the way you treated me was wrong, hell you even voluntarily went to therapy! You’re basically going through a whole-ass redemption arc and what do I do? * sob * I’m still stuck in the past and I can’t let go of my grudges, which isn’t doing me or you any favours. I’ve told you to get your shit together, and this is exactly what you’re trying to do and instead of being h-* hic *- happy for you I’m mad-”

His rant broke off as he took another breath with tears still rolling down the freckled cheeks despite the boy’s best efforts. Izuku slumped down in his seat and with shaking hands he took out a cigarette and lighter from his backpack that was still hanging by the hook on the side of the desk. And although putting the cigarette in his mouth was relatively easy, lighting it was another matter. As Izuku grew more frustrated with the quiver in his hands, so did Bakugou. The blond became impatient as he grumbled “give it here damn it” much more quietly and gently than he normally would’ve done as he leaned forward, all the while grabbing the other teen by his shoulder with one hand, as he used to the other to quickly light the cigarette with a small explosion. Izuku’s flinch at the sudden but familiar noise and heat did not go unnoticed.

To say that Izuku was shocked by his ex-friend’s action would’ve been an understatement, but he was pleased nonetheless. If anything it proved his point that Kacchan was trying to be nicer to him, even if the attempts were somewhat awkward. The freckled teen, feeling only marginally better, leaned back in his chair facing the ceiling as he continued to blow circles of smoke up into the air, trying to regain his original train of thought.

“You’d think they would have a fire alarm in here or something” mused Bakugou as he stared at the disappearing circles.

“Hmm” replied Izuku, absentmindedly “You’d think”

The silence has once again stretched between the 2 boys, although this time it felt less oppressive in its need to be filled. Bakugou was happy to wait for Deku to finish what he started, it was the least the blond could do seeing as he was at fault for the current state of things between them.

“I’m so fuckin angry...” stated Izuku as he crashed the burnt out cigarette against the desk, which Bakugou conviniently ignored seeing as the desk was his. “I’m so fuckin angry-” he repeated despite his tone and words not matching at all “-because this proves that you could’ve gotten your shit together this whole time” he continues while gesturing vaguely between the two of them.

“You could’ve stopped this bullshit and apologised to me!” exclaims Izuku in a tone that is half resigned and half accusing “You could’ve spared me the misery, and yet you didn’t. I feel like I’ve suffered for nothing-”

“You did!” interrupted the blond.

“What?”

“You’ve suffered for nothing” clarified Bakugou “There’s literally NO good reason for you to have gone through even half the shit you did”

“I dunno about that Kacchan” teased Izuku “I’m pretty sure the reason is sitting right in front of me”

“I said no good reason damn it, don’t go around twisting my words you fuckin Deku!”

And Izuku couldn’t help but break out in laughter, because he was pretty sure that this was the first time ever that Bakugou had made a joke at his own expense and this moment was going to live in his brain rent free from now on.

“Oh God, Kacchan-” he wheezed, trying to stop himself from laughing “You were right, you really aren't the same asshole that you were last year!”

“I sure fuckin hope not” replied Bakgou who was just as close to laughing “Otherwise I would’ve had to demand refund for all of those shitty therapy sessions”

“Look at us Kacchan” said Izuku, his laugh now subdued “We’re still a fuckin mess”

“I guess we are” agreed the blond as he stared down at his friend’s notebook in a thoughtful expression.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the truthfully embarrassing heart-to-heart with Kacchan, Izuku wanted to do nothing more than sink into the void for the next eternity, or at least until he gets his reminder text that he’s running late for yet another therapy session. Unfortunately neither of these options were viable seeing as he was on a self-appointed mission to catch up to his uncle. The boy hoped that uncle Shouta would still be somewhere on the premises seeing as his ugly-ass sleeping bag was still in the classroom. Izuku used that to his advantage as he gave the sleeping bag to Bandit who promptly sniffed it and began to follow the scent of a premature-midlife-crisis. Who knew that sheep could make such good hounds?

Bandit had dutifully led their owner through an ever inconvenient maze of corridors, which eventually ended with the two entering the teacher’s lounge like they had every right to be there (which they kinda did, shoutout to Nedzu!). As expected, Izuku’s uncle was in the lounge, surrounded by fellow members of staff as they tried (unsuccessfully, at least by Izuku’s standards) to get any information out of him regarding his class this year. Uncle Shouta for the most part looked like he’d rather be doing anything else and so Izuku has made an executive decision to insert himself obnoxiously into the situation.

“In my humble opinion-” he said, as he sat down next to his uncle, while Bandit jumped up on his lap “that Mineta kid should’ve been expelled. Like, we get it uncle, he has potential ” continued Izuku, as he spat the word distastefully “But how far is that potential gonna get him when all he does is harass the entire female population, like every other mediocre straight guy with self awareness of a sea cucumber?”

“A sea cucumber? Really?” asked uncle Shouta, sounding like the unimpressed bitch that he is.

“I mean don’t get me wrong” he continues, completely ignoring the unnecessary commentary “Straight people are already embarrassing as they are, but this guy is on another level, the kinda level that usually leads to a straight jacket, am I right?! Hah- I just made a pun!”

“The little listener does have a point, Shouta” replied Present Mic.

“Also, did he just say uncle ? Shouta, is there anything you’d like to tell us?” asked Midnight, you know, like a traitor.

“No”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t until they walked past the gates of the school that his uncle finally stopped in his tracks to voice at least a portion of the questions that have been bubbling in his mind since the impromptu family reunion with his nephew.

“Izuku” says Shouta, with as much concern as an uncle-who-you-haven’t-seen-in-almost-a-decade is allowed to voice “What the fuck?”

“Look, I heard that question far too often in my lifetime, mostly from my therapist, so you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific” replies Izuku sounding like the unimpressed bitch that he hopes to evolve into through the sheer power of genetics and generational trauma.

“Look kid-” says the hobo looking man that has the privilege of being related to Izuku as he puts his hands together, takes a deep breath and prays to whichever God he believes is not yet dead for some guidance on how to handle this “-as much as I’d love to elaborate on the sheer amount of confusion I am experiencing right now due to your questionable way of life, I do actually have to go on a patrol so this conversation is gonna have to be postponed. In the meanwhile give your mother my regards, and I’ll hopefully see you in the near future when you decide once again to wreak havoc in my classroom.”

“No” replies the freckled teen in a total disregard for other people’s prior engagements, thus truly earning his title of a problem child.

“What do you mean no ? Izuku, I have a job to do!”

Instead of replying, Izuku has decided to simply pull a pro-gamer move, by quickly taking out a familiar pair of handcuffs from the side pocket of his backpack, cuffing one side to his uncle’s hand and the other to his own. That on its own is probably not particularly impressive, however it is the speed of the action that has earned it the title of a pro-gamer move, which Izuku is quite proud of. His uncle on the other hand is definitely less so, looking at his cuffed wrist like it has somewhat betrayed him.

“Please tell me you did not just do that”

“I did not just do that”

After wasting about 10 minutes of his life on fruitless struggle of trying to get the handcuffs off like an untrained dog trying to chew off its own leash, Aizawa Shouta; the underground hero Eraserhead, the infamous Erasure Hero has slumped in defeat, internally swearing to himself to one day get revenge on his unruly nephew.

“God, I am so going to have a talk with my sister about this” he says, as if a threat of authority had any meaning to the green headed teen.

“Yeah, no shit, that’s the whole point, we’re going to my house now” replies the teen, completely disregarding any attempt at ‘ an adult asserting their authority ’ over him.

“I still have to go on a patrol tonight” repeats Shouta, as if it was somewhat relevant.

“That sounds like a you problem”

#demise!au #bnha #revival of midoriya izuku #fanfic

[bytheangell]

Hanging By a Moment

Whumptober 2020 prompt: held at gunpoint (Read on AO3)

Magnus is standing alone outside the restaurant when, through the thin fabric of his shirt, he feels the distinct press of cold metal against his back. Every muscle in his body tenses at once - he doesn’t need to be able to see what it is to instinctively know what’s happening.

“Don’t move, don’t yell,” a deep voice orders, then waits a few seconds to make sure Magnus is going to comply. He does, remaining silent and still. “Now turn around, hands where I can see them. Don’t try anything stupid.”

Magnus does as he’s told, but very slowly, trying to buy himself time to think. A million thoughts rush through his mind, but two stand out more than the others. The first is that Alec is going to walk outside and see this, and that is not going to go well. The second is that he’s in real danger here. Actual, life-threatening danger, from something so goddamn mundane as a street robbery.

On any other day - hell, even on this day about four hours prior - Magnus could’ve used his magic to easily disarm a mundane man with a gun. But now, after using every last drop of his magic between a demanding spell for a client and a surprise demon attack he hadn’t expected to help the Shadowhunters with, Magnus is tapped out. That’s why he’s walking home with Alec instead of portaling, and why they’re buying food on the way instead of snapping it into the apartment, ready to go.

Magnus isn’t sure he'd be able to flick the weapon away if he tried, and he certainly couldn’t raise a solid enough barrier in front of him if the man shoots.

Apparently, Magnus isn’t turning fast enough: rough hands grab him by the shoulder and force Magnus around to face his assailant. It’s already difficult to see in the dark, with the neon of the restaurant sign the only light between distant streetlamps. Whoever it is only has their eyes visible, the rest of their face obscured by a hat and bandana tied over their nose and mouth - not that Magnus is paying much attention to aesthetics. His eyes are drawn to the barrel of the gun pointed at him instead, and he wonders if this is how his centuries of life will come to an end. Decades of war and battles and standing up against more injustices than he can list, facing down other warlocks, werewolves and vampires and Nephilim and literal demons… he survived all of that, and a mundane being hard-up for cash may be what finally ends the life of Magnus Bane.

“I don’t have much on me,” Magnus admits, which is true. “There’s some cash in my wallet. I can grab it for you-” Magnus lowers his hands to reach for his wallet, only to pull them back up by his head when the man takes a step closer.

“No! Hands up,” the robber says, just as the door behind Magnus opens and he tenses all over again, knowing exactly who walked out.

“Alexander, darling, I’m going to advise you to stay there, please.” It takes every last ounce of self-control for him to not turn back around and look at Alec.

Magnus hears Alec take a step forward anyway, and the gun shifts from Magnus to a spot over his shoulder, which is exactly what Magnus was afraid of. The gunman is jumpy now, outnumbered even though Magnus’ hands are empty and Alec’s are full of takeout bags.

“How about we all take a second and calm down,” Magnus advises, partially for his own benefit considering the fact that his heartbeat has doubled, if not tripled, in pace since Alec stepped outside. At least now the gun is trained back on him instead of Alec.

Magnus isn’t sure if Alec’s strength and speed runes are active from the fight still, or if he’d have time to activate them or be able to beat a bullet if he tries to make a move. What Magnus is sure of is that he’d rather not find out the answer.

He’s very aware that having a gun aimed at him being the best option is not saying much for the current situation.

“Magnus-” Alec’s voice is strained and frightened, and Magnus is actually glad he can’t see his face right now because he isn’t sure he could handle whatever expression he’d find there. He can probably count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Alec visibly ruffled, and every time was over an injured sibling. It’s a look he doesn’t think he could stomach seeing on Alec here and now, because of him, and especially not if Magnus being the cause of Alec’s worry makes him try something foolishly heroic.

“I’m fine,” Magnus cuts in, not wanting the attention back on Alec. “We’re all fine. Just take the goddamn wallet and go,” Magnus snaps, now also on edge in a way he wasn’t before Alec was in danger, too. Magnus nods toward his right side and the man, gun still in hand, steps forward to reach into Magnus’ pants pocket and pull out the wallet.

Magnus is conscious of the sound of bags crackling behind him, Alec’s grip on them likely tightening anxiously. He doesn’t turn around to confirm and instead keeps a neutral, placating expression that never leaves the masked man.

The robber eyes them both, maybe wondering what else he can get off the two of them, when the sound of voices at the other end of the street spook him, and he takes off instead.

Magnus watches him go until he’s certain the guy isn’t going to change his mind and turn back around, and then in a very undignified moment his knees go weak and Alec drops the takeout bags to the ground to catch Magnus before he falls.

“Magnus!” Alec says, supporting Magnus before moving them both to a bench a few feet away. “Are you alright?”

“Physically, yes. My pride, on the other hand-” Magnus tries to joke, but the tremor in his voice gives away how shaken up by the event he truly is.

“Let me call Cat, she can portal us home and-”

“No,” Magnus says, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine. I think that was just a moment of shock. I just… need a minute.”

“You’re shaking,” Alec points out as if Magnus isn’t aware. His hands are trembling as much as his legs even though he’s sitting down. “I should-”

“One fucking minute, Alexander, please,” Magnus snaps, and Alec falls silent and still beside him. Magnus takes a few deep breaths, willing his body to stop betraying him like this.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words he says once his voice is level again, his pulse no longer racing. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed,” Alec dismisses. “What do you need?”

They’ve had this talk before, when Magnus needs a moment to think something through before making an important decision, even if it’s an emergency, or when he’s upset and needs a moment to distance himself from whatever’s upsetting him before reacting. Having people toss out offers and suggestions is too overwhelming - asking him what he needs seems to work best, which is exactly what Alec does now.

They’re both going through an ordeal, and Magnus obviously doesn’t blame Alec for being a little too insistent in trying to help him.

“Nothing. I really just needed a moment,” Magnus promises. He’s fine. Alec’s fine. He won’t miss the wallet or the money inside (though he will miss several of the personal photos kept within). He’s safe, and Alec is safe, and that’s all that matters.

“I wouldn’t have let him hurt you, Magnus,” Alec says, bringing a hand up to cup Magnus’ cheek so he’s forced to look at him, to see the serious expression on his face and the weight of that promise. “I hung back because you said to, but if he made a move…” Alec takes a deep breath to keep himself from getting too worked up over what-ifs. “You know I’ll always protect you, Magnus.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Magnus mutters under his breath, not really meaning for Alec to hear him but the words come out a bit louder than he intends in his bitterness.

“Of course I should-” “I should be able to protect myself! Hell, I should be able to protect both of us, and instead, I was useless back there!” Magnus says, and though his tone is sharp it’s obviously not anger aimed at Alec, but at himself.

“You weren’t useless,” Alec insists. “You de-escalated a situation that could’ve ended with someone hurt, or dead. And the only reason your magic is tapped out is because you came to protect me earlier. I don’t know about you, but none of that seems particularly ‘useless’ to me.”

Magnus knows there’s truth to Alec’s words, even if he can’t bring himself to feel properly comforted by them - not while his fight-or-flight instincts are still on high alert on the city street, half-expecting the man to come back and prove Magnus right by finishing what he started.

Magnus’ eyes drift to the bags of takeout on the pavement, the contents of the broken containers soaking through the bag and spilling out onto the ground. “Looks like we need new food,” he frowns. “But…”

“What is it?” Alec asks.

It feels ridiculous to admit that he’s still shaken up enough that the idea of staying out longer without his magic is seriously distressing. He knows Alec won’t judge, but at this point, Magnus is judging himself. He’s better than this - he should be better than this. He’s been in situations like this before, situations much more dangerous than the one he was just in... but never without his magic, and that’s what makes all the difference. Sure, Alec probably could’ve taken the guy, but it’s the fact that Magnus couldn’t - that he froze in the moment - that bothers him.

“I don't particularly want to be out any longer than we have to right now,” Magnus confesses. “I don’t want a portal,” he adds quickly because as uncomfortable as he is, they're only a few blocks away at this point. Realistically, he knows that standing next to Alec makes the chance of anyone trying to get the jump on the both of them much more unlikely. “But I’d rather not make any detours.”

Alec hesitates slightly, and Magnus knows him well enough to know he’s debating suggesting they call Cat again despite Magnus’ insistence not to. It’d be endearing if Magnus’ nerves weren’t frayed to the point of snapping. 

“If that’s what you want,” Alec agrees at length, resigning himself to following Magnus’ lead whether he agrees with it or not. “We aren’t far from the Loft, let’s get back and order delivery?” Alec offers. He doesn’t stand to leave yet, waiting for Magnus to answer first before doing anything.

“Yeah, okay,” Magnus agrees, standing up from the bench. His legs still feel a little shaky, but he doesn’t wobble. “That sounds good.”

Alec wraps his arm around Magnus’ waist and pulls him in close, an action that’s equal parts protective and comforting. For a moment Magnus nearly pulls away, instinctively wanting to prove that he’s fine enough to handle himself again. And he is… except he doesn’t want to pull away.

Instead, Magnus allows himself to lean into the touch, embracing those feelings of support and safety and doing his best not to feel weak for needing them.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #tsc #tw: gun #cw: gun #IT'S A HAPPY ENDING I SWEAR #continuing to yeet these whumptober prompts from months ago out into the void so I don't look at them every day in my WIPs folder jkfljdskl #long post #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[krreader]

diamond maknae | too old for you.

pairing: jackson wang x diamond maknae ; bts ot7 x diamond maknae (platonic) fandom: bts ; got7 warnings: eighth member of bts!reader ; maknae!reader ; language genre: angst ; fluff word count: 1.2k+ other: for other dm content, pls check out my diamond maknae masterlist

summary: it was just so hard for the boys to let you do your own thing when it came down to dating, didn’t matter that the person you chose to date was actually a friend of theirs.

a/n: one of the older dm requests I had in my inbox, so I’m super glad I finally got around to doing it. I hope you like it my love ♥

What you do in your private, romantic life, should be nobody's business but your own and that of the person that you were currently seeing, but your brothers seemed to have made it their business the moment that it was decided that you would be a part of their band.

At first, you could deal with it, but this, what was happening right now, was absolutely unacceptable.

“I don't understand why it's so hard for you to find somebody your own age! He's too old for you!” Jin yelled.

“Too OLD? Jackson is the same age as Namjoon and Hoseok, YOU are older than him!”

And see, Jin didn't really appreciate it when someone brought up his age like that in a... disrespectful manner. But you were already in rage and the fact that it seemed like all of them were currently against you, despite you only having gone on three dates with Jackson so far, didn't make this any better.

“What hyung wants to say is..-” Jimin tried to de-escalate the situation before it could go any further, but it was already too late for that.

“I don't give a fuck what he wants to say. I am so fucking done with you all trying to decide who I get to date or not!”

And then everybody was up on their feet, telling you to stop because this was reaching a level of disrespect that they did not tolerate, not from you and not from any other member that ever got so outraged in a fight. But you were done with them. You were done with seven grown up men trying to tell you what to do, especially when it came down to your love life.

You were genuinely happy with Jackson, he treated you well, he made you laugh and he was there for you when you needed him and yet all they did was complain because you were 'too young'.

Despite them all knowing him and being friends with him.

But suddenly that did not matter anymore, because he dared to touch their little sister and that was unacceptable.

“You need to calm down,” Namjoon said.

“Don't you dare tell me what to do right now,” you got up and grabbed your bag, then put on your shoes, ready to get the hell out of there.

“Hey!” Taehyung wanted to run after you and grab you, but you were already so riled up, that he stopped, especially when he saw the angry tears stream down your cheeks, “Let's just... talk. Please.”

You wanted to talk.

But not with them.

Right now, you were done talking to them.

You drove over to the man that this entire discussion had been about in the first place, told him everything, how disappointed you were with them, how unhappy you were that these kind of things kept on happening and that you just wanted them to understand that you were neither their little baby sister that they had to take care of 24/7, nor their daughter that they had to be overprotective of.

You were a grown woman who could make her own damned decisions.

Jackson let you vent, did not say a word, but instead, just held you in his arms and wiped away your tears when necessary.

Only when you seemed to have finally said your piece of mind, did he say: “It's easy to forget that you're not really their sister after everything that you guys have been through together.”

“But would that change anything if I really were their sister? They should not be treating any woman like this.”

“Oh, I agree. I just think they're scared that you'll end up being hurt. This is no excuse for them to treat you like a baby or tell you what to do, but I want you to know that they're not doing it on purpose or be mean in any way. They're doing it because they love you. Maybe a little too much. I think that's the problem.”

“Then how do I change that? How can I show them that I don't need them babying me and telling me what to do? How can I show them that I'm perfectly capable of deciding my partners on my own? That I can make life choices on my own?”

“It's a process. Eventually, they will come to terms with that, they have to,” Jackson kissed your forehead, “And if it ever becomes too much, you just take your keys and drive over to my place where I'll take your mind off things.”

You finally let out a little chuckle, “I actually really like the sound of that.”

“And who knows, maybe, if things are going well and in the direction that we both want it to go... you can... you know,” Jackson looked around, then back at you, not wanting to say it quite yet, but you knew he meant that you could move in with him.

And it was true, it was a little early to start thinking about that, despite you and him having known each other for a while, but you were grateful for the offer anyways.

“Honestly, sometimes I think my relationship with them would be better if I didn't live with them. And you know, it's not like it's bad, I still love them like they're family, it's just... the fighting is getting worse with each passing day and each decision that I make without consulting them first.”

“Yeah, I agree. Distance can sometimes be best,” Jackson nodded, “Why do you think I moved out when I did? I love my own boys like my brothers, but we're all at an age where we have different interests, hobbies and views of life. That's normal,” he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “Namjoonie and the others are reasonable though. Give them a bit more time and they'll realize that too, I mean they've already started buying their own apartments. Eventually they will realize that moving out of the dorm and into their own apartments won't weaken their bond, but strengthen it. And once they get to that point, it’ll all be easier.”

You smiled once again and leaned into him, Jackson immediately pulling you as close as possible, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, princess. I'm always here when you need me.”

But despite of what Jackson had said, he decided to call up Namjoon and meet face to face with him the following week, knowing that – despite his worries for you – he has never been unreasonable. And so he explained your situation from your point of view and why what Bangtan was doing was actually, really toxic for you and your relationship with them.

Because if they kept this up, he was genuinely worried that this might break you all apart.

“I'm not just saying this because I'm dating her, I'm saying this as a friend to you too. I know you guys love her, but if you keep this up, I'm not sure how long she's going to sit through this anymore. You know how stubborn she is, if she has enough, she'll leave and none of you want that.”

Namjoon let out a heavy sigh and nodded, “I know. The night that she left and drove over to your place, we actually all sat down and had a discussion about this. We know we can be overprotective. And I mean, truthfully speaking, we're all glad that she chose you. We all know and trust you.”

“It's not about whether or not you trust me, Namjoon, you should trust her a little more. She's not a child anymore.”

“I know. It's just.. to us she's always going to be our baby sister.”

“Just let her do her thing, man, I promise you she'll do good. She's an amazing girl and if you let her do her thing, she'll prove to you guys just how capable she is of handling her own stuff.”

Namjoon stared at him for a moment, then he smiled, “You know what.. I'm really glad it's you, Jackson. Seriously.”

He smiled proudly for that compliment.

#jackson wang x reader #jackson wang imagine #jackson wang scenario #jackson x reader #jackson imagine #jackson scenario #got7 imagine #got7 scenario #bts x reader #bts scenario #bts imagine #bangtan x reader #bangtan imagine #bangtan scenario #reader #requests

[littleoddwriter]

Don’t You Die on Me | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

"I was wondering if I could get 18 & 19 with Roman Sionis? Male reader comes across a deal going bad (could be a roman deal or some random person, guns get pulled) they try to diffuse the situation, chaos ensues, someone who works with Rom finds them and rushes them to a personal doctor or hospital, and Roman and reader have an angsty moment, make up, soft ending?" anon

A/N: I really hope this is to your liking, anon! Thanks for the request!

summary; You witness one of Roman’s meetings go badly and try to de-escalate, which had the opposite effect and got you a bullet wound in your abdomen. 

notes; TW // Hospital; Violence; Bullet/Gunshot Wound; Injury; Flesh Wound; Implied Murder; No graphic depictions of anything, though. Male!Reader; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Love Confessions; Anxiety.

Despite knowing that Roman didn't want you downstairs at the club when he was having a meeting, you went anyway. Not because you wanted to disobey him necessarily, but because you needed to ask him something that couldn't wait until he was done. You tried texting Zsasz about it, but since he took watching over Roman so seriously, he didn't see it. So you decided to come down.

When you've reached the club's backstage, you could already hear raised, strained voices and Roman's signature tone of 'If you say one more thing that I don't like, I will blow your brains out'.

Even though your instincts told you to turn on your heels and wait till it was all over, you continued on, until you've almost reached the booth they sat in.

You came closer, and that's where it slowly but surely started to escalate.

Not really thinking about it, you wanted to diffuse the situation. In retrospect, you couldn't possibly say what has driven you to do that. Perhaps it was your worry for Roman, even though you knew he was in good and capable hands with Zsasz, and himself.

Yet, you thought it smart to stir away the man's, who he was conversing with, attention from Roman as you saw a gun glint in his hand under the table.

Chuckling nervously, you touched the man's shoulder, his back was turned to you. "Excuse me? I really don't think you should do that, y'know?" Your voice was gentle, you sounded like you were asking him for directions, rather than putting down the weapon.

"What the fuck?" The man looked at you, his faced twisted in confusion; then he jerked your hand away, turning back to Roman. "What the fuck's this supposed to mean, huh? You fucker! Don't try to-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you stupid fake fucking fuck! Zsasz!" Roman snarled, twirling his finger for Zsasz to escort the man out.

Promptly, the other businessman stood up and pointed his gun right between Roman's eyes, who barely even flinched at the sight.

Your heart rate had picked up even more than before. You were so anxious that something was going to happen to Roman, you really didn't think about your poor decision making anymore.

So, you grabbed onto the man's arm and pulled it down and towards yourself, the gun pointing to your abdomen.

Then a deafening loud BANG rang through the club.

Suddenly, it was quiet. No one moved. No one seemed to even breathe, even though you could feel your chest rise and fall quickly.

You slid to the floor, your body not supporting you anymore. As you let go of the culprit, he made a run for it. You could hear it, and as quick as he started, he was stopped. Several gun shots rang through the club in quick succession and then a dull thud, though it sounded crushingly loud in your ears.

"Fuck! Don't just stand around, for fuck's sake! You! Call the fucking doctor, tell him we're coming in with a bullet wound. And you! Clean up this fucking mess." Roman was barking out orders, you barely registered any of it.

Faintly, you could feel yourself being shifted around, lying on your back on the floor, instead of slumping weirdly against the booth. Then there was pressure on your stomach. You knew it hurt, but you didn't flinch or really feel it, as you brain was struggling to keep up.

Suddenly, Roman's face was in yours. He looked mad, concerned, and anxious all at once. Only he could display so many different emotions in only one face.

He was patting your cheek quite hard, as you lost focus. "Stay with me, baby," he murmured.

It was hard to, but you tried.

"You better not fucking die on me. Especially not when you've done something so stupid. You hear me?" You made a gurgling sound in the back of your throat. "Fuck! C'mon, sweet boy. Now's not the time. 'Kay? Not now. I promise you, I will hunt your fucking ass down and kill you myself if you decide to fucking die."

Then you were lifted up by someone, not Roman, but one of his men. He carried you bridal style outside, Roman close by, holding onto your hand. You were laid down on the backseat of a car, your legs draped over Roman's thighs, who sat there with you, keeping one hand linked with yours, loosely, and the other continued to put pressure on your injury, where someone must have wrapped it up already to put constant pressure on it.

You couldn't remember much past being in the car. It was all a rush and a blur. All you knew was that you were in a hospital bed now, hooked to monitors and an IV bag of what was probably morphine. The other thing you knew was that Roman was lying beside you, his arms loosely wrapped around your middle, above your injury, and his head on your chest. Usually that was your position, but nothing was usual about your current situation.

Lying there and remembering what has gotten you there, you winced in embarrassment. You were so fucking stupid for trying to do something about the situation at hand in the club. Fuck, Roman must have been enraged. He probably still was.

Briefly, Roman's arms around you tightened and then loosened again, as he stirred. He had been asleep then, apparently.

You desperately wanted to make a noise or move to let him know that you were awake, but you couldn't do anything. It was like you were frozen in place. Part of you was scared it wasn't real, that it would all vanish the moment you tried to make it real. Another part of you also just didn't want to face Roman after such a stupid fucking action.

Promptly though, he lifted his head and looked at you. You looked right back at him.

Palpable relief washed over Roman, lifting his features from a frown into surprise and fondness.

"You're awake," he croaked, his voice still thick and broken from sleep.

Stiffly, you gave him a small, barely there, nod.

Roman leaned up and pressed a kiss to your lips. It spoke volumes of how worried he must have actually been. He kissed you again and again, barely able to stop at all. It felt strange to you, to know that you were the reason he felt anxious about something.

Soon enough, though, he stopped kissing you over and over again, and leaned back, propping himself up on his arm that was placed on the mattress. Then he frowned at you.

"Are you fucking insane? You could have been fucking killed! Don't do that again! Fuck!" His voice broke on every other word, rising in octaves as he went on and you felt a stab in your chest.

You wanted to reply something, but as you were clearing your throat, you noticed how utterly dry it was and how it hurt.

Roman looked at you, breathing heavily with agitation. Then he realised that you wanted something and what it was. He leaned over to the bedside table on his side and grabbed an ice chip, putting it between your lips.

"Don't worry about fucking replying, 'kay? I'm sure you know how fucking stupid this was of you. And I already know that you're sorry. I can see it in your eyes," he rasped, kissing your forehead.

Then he stretched his arm to push a button, calling the doctor, as he explained by your questioning look. After that he lied down beside you again, his head back on your chest. You sighed quietly.

"Don't ever do that again. Please." That was a first. Roman never said 'please' or 'thank you'. "The next time you won't be this lucky. I don't want to have to fucking bury you, 'kay?” A pause. “When the doctor's checked you over, you'll need to rest again, I'm sure. I'll stay here, waiting for you."

A tear found its way out of your eye, running down the side of your face and into your hair. The ice chip has dissolved by then and while your throat didn't feel much better, you were sure to explode if you didn't say anything.

"I love you, Roman. I'm sorry, thank you," you croaked, a sob tearing from your raw throat.

He kissed your chest softly. "I adore you, too, my sweet boy."

#tw violence #tw murder #tw gun violence #tw hospital #tw injury #x male reader #x male!reader #male reader #male reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis x you #roman sionis fanfiction #roman sionis imagine #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x male!reader #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #ewan mcgregor imagine

[mamabearcatfanfics]

A little Christmas Elf told me there was a delay on @lavendertwilight89‘s IYBC Secret Santa gift, so I decided to write just a little something. She already has the whole fic, but I’ll be releasing it here on tumblr in two parts. Just a little something soft and sweet, partially inspired by something that happened between myself and my husband when we were only just together and still working each other out, and also by one of her chosen prompts. So, without further ado, here’s Part One of Song and Dance Man.

Or read the entire story on AO3

🎵

Inuyasha walked out of his small kitchen, carrying a large mug of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and a plate of chocolate chip cookies on a tray. He put it down on the coffee table in front of his girlfriend, stooping to drop a kiss on the top of her head, then snorted as she tried to nudge him aside so she could see the show she was currently watching. He didn’t know which one it was – they all seemed to blend into one another, and he did his best to block out the singing. Why was there always singing?

“Another one?” he teased, blocking her view even more. “You mean you haven’t watched every single musical on Netflix already? What’s this one called?”

“Singing in the Rain”, Kagome said testily. “And it doesn’t matter how many times I watch them, they make me feel better”, she said, trying to lean sideways. “C’mon, Inuyasha, move!”

Finally relenting at the pouting face looking up at him, he moved out of the way.

“Alright little storm cloud, you win.”

Kagome huffed at him, and he chuckled at her as he walked over to his desk, and picked up his headphones, grateful that the swelling crescendo of violins would soon be drowned out by the much more soothing sounds of screaming and gunfire from his paused game. He glanced back over to the TV as he sat down in front of his monitor.

“That guy looks constipated”, he commented. “How do you even watch this tripe?”

Kagome turned to glare at him over the back of the sofa, a cushion hugged to her stomach to help keep the hot water bottle in place.

“This is not tripe, and Don isn’t constipated!” she hissed. “He’s feeling! He’s in love with Kathy, but he has to act like he’s in love with Lina on screen”.

“That doesn’t mean he needs to torture me by singing and dancing about it”, Inuyasha muttered. “How are you meant to take any of this seriously, when they suddenly just burst into song about their innermost feelings? It’s utterly ridiculous. I don’t get how you can love musicals so much.”

“Is that what you really think?” she said quietly, the tone of her voice sounding brittle in comparison to the cheerful music playing in the background.

Inuyasha lowered his headphones, ears suddenly twitching with trepidation. He wasn’t always the best at reading a room, but he could definitely feel the tension in this one.

Their relationship was only new, but already Kagome seemed like a permanent fixture in his life. She was bubbly and kind, her tiny frame usually draped in the brightest coloured clothing she could find, and she always seemed to be singing or laughing. She reminded him sometimes of a sweet little canary, his own bright eyed and inquisitive songbird, with her happy go lucky mentality and readiness to try new things. She was everything he wasn’t.

They’d only met by chance, both of them stuck waiting in the Emergency Room at the local hospital, him waiting for his friend Miroku to get patched up after coming off his bike, and her waiting to get her wrist x-rayed after an accident with a set at the theatre where she worked. They’d chatted, or rather Kagome had, and he’d watched her, somehow mesmerised by this tiny human that was unruffled by his obviously hanyou features.

When Sango had appeared to pick up her bruised and scraped boyfriend, he’d decided to stay with Kagome, not liking the idea of leaving her there to wait all alone. Eventually she’d been x-rayed, poked and prodded, with Inuyasha tagging along at her request, finally triumphantly emerging from the hospital with her wrist strapped for a sprain. By then, the idea of her travelling home alone on public transport in the dark was abhorrent to him, so he’d driven her home. Somehow, she’d managed to get his number from him, and added herself into the paltry number of contacts on his phone.

When she’d texted a few days later to invite him out for a drink to say thank you, to his own surprise he’d eagerly accepted, and before he’d known it, they were inseparable. Early morning texts and late night phone conversations progressed to in person talks and late night kisses, until one night instead of accepting his reluctant good night, she’d launched herself at him and asked him to stay and take her to bed.

He’d hardly been able to look Kagome’s flatmate Shiori in the eye the next morning at breakfast, because they hadn’t exactly been discreet with the noise levels, with Kagome delighted to discover that youkai stamina extended to the bedroom. Shiori had teasingly remarked that his second task as Kagome’s boyfriend should be to buy her flatmate some decent earplugs. Kagome had found it hilarious, him, not so much.

Kagome now had two drawers in his dresser for clothes, a makeup bag and toothbrush in his bathroom, and an extra hook on the back of his door for her jacket. She hardly ever slept at her apartment now, only going back to do washing and visit Shiori.

It still shook him that Kagome actually cared for him, showed an interest in what he did. And the sex. They were starting to ease off a little now, but for the first few weeks, they were at it like rabbits, christening every room in his apartment, nearly every flat surface, and even some of the vertical ones. The sex was fucking amazing; she was so passionate, so eager, so utterly beautiful. It was like going from starvation rations to an all you could eat buffet, and he took full advantage of their mutual eagerness to explore each other’s bodies. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her.

But their relationship wasn’t just built just on that. They laughed with each other, teased each other, helped each other. He hardly knew the person he was becoming since he’d met Kagome, but the change was…good.

Even though it was early in the relationship, she’d already told him she loved him. At three months, this was the longest time he’d ever been with anyone and even though he was pretty sure he loved her too, he wasn’t quite comfortable saying that to her out loud yet. She understood. At least he’d done his best to try and show her how he felt, and she seemed happy with that. Miroku and Sango loved her too, and she’d slotted into their lives like she’d always been there. He’d never felt so happy.

But right now, the look she was giving him was not a happy one. She seemed almost on the verge of tears. Kagome had warned him early on that she did get emotional just before her period and that some months were worse than others. He’d felt a little embarrassed by her candid remark, never having been in a relationship long enough for that kind of information to be shared. But so far everything had been okay.

Today hadn’t been great though. She had been out of sorts ever since she’d woken up this morning, feeling exhausted, achy and irritable, and he’d done his best to not take anything she said to heart and try and do little things to comfort her, knowing it wasn’t really her talking but her hormones. She’d smelt a little different, even though she wasn’t bleeding yet, but nothing concerning.

But right now, she was beginning to worry him – her heart rate was speeding up and her scent hinted at extreme agitation, similar to a fight or flight response. This was new. Should he remind her that she’d told him she got emotional just before her period and that she needed to calm down? Some deep seated sense of self-preservation made him realise that wasn’t a good idea.  

“Kagome”, he said uncertainly, trying to work out what the safest approach was, not wanting to upset her even more. “Are you okay?”

“What if we’ve been fooling ourselves Inuyasha.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, look at us,” she said, gesturing from Inuyasha’s faded Soundgarden t-shirt and ripped black jeans to her heart patterned leggings and hot pink t-shirt which proudly proclaimed she was Fuelled by Theatre and Coffee. “We couldn’t be more different.”

“But”, spluttered Inuyasha, his heart suddenly beating faster at the dangerous direction the conversation was taking. “Different is good! Yes, we like different things, but that shouldn’t matter!” Kagome’s bottom lip quivered.

“It might not matter tomorrow, or next week, or the week after that, but sooner or later, it would. That’s what you said last night.” Her breathing was picking up now, ragged gasps with a scent of tears.

“What?!”

“You said it’s important to find someone who shares your goals and your interests and fits into your life.”

“Kagome, I was talking about my asshole brother, and how he and Kagura aren’t on the same page about having kids! I wasn’t talking about us!”

“You just said musicals are utterly ridiculous”, she burst out, standing suddenly and letting the cushion and hot water bottle fall to the floor with a sad flop. “And just in case you’ve forgotten Inuyasha, I am a stage manager for a theatre company. Which means by default that you think I’m ridiculous.” A fat tear rolled down her cheek, quickly followed by another, and her distress was the only thing stopping him from snarling that the only thing ridiculous was this conversation. This wasn’t like her at all, and he needed to keep calm.

“Hey, hey, c’mon, I never meant that”, said Inuyasha softly as he stood, trying his best to de-escalate the situation. “I know your job is important to you, and just how much you love it.” Kagome continued on as if she hadn’t heard him, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“You’ve never once shown an interest in anything that I’ve done at work. Never come to any of the shows I’ve been involved in”, she sniffed, and Inuyasha’s heart sank, made heavy with sudden guilt.

That was true. Kagome had listened to him rant about his work as a software test analyst, had shown interest in the games he played when he relaxed, had even made a WOW character and tried going on a raid with him when it was clearly not her thing. But she’d thrown herself into it, just like everything else she did, laughing at herself when she made mistakes, just happy to spend time with him sharing something he loved. He hadn’t done anything like that for her, hadn’t even noticed. That needed to change.

Kagome began gathering her things in a haphazard fashion, stuffing them in her backpack.

“Baby, don’t”, he said, trying to reach out to hug her. “Don’t leave when you’re upset. I promise we’re going to be better – I’m going to get better. I’m still learning how to be good at this. Please?”

She dodged his outstretched arms. “Don’t baby me”, she hissed, her tone venomous. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re even trying to get to know me. Do you even care at all? Or are you just in this for the sex?”

Inuyasha looked stricken. “Kagome…” His arms dropped to his sides.

Her eyes widened at his broken expression, her hands shaking as she reached tentatively towards him, then pulled herself back.

“I... I can’t do this right now”, she sobbed, pushing herself away. “I’m going home!”

And then the door slammed, and Inuyasha was left standing in the middle of his apartment, the untouched plate of cookies, cooling hot chocolate and water bottle the only evidence that Kagome had been there.

A man danced happily on his TV in the background, splashing around in rain puddles like it was the best thing ever. He plonked himself down on his sofa and picked up the cushion that Kagome had been hugging only moments before, burying his nose in it.

“What the fuck?” he whispered into the pillow. “What the actual fuck?!”

He didn’t know how serious this was, but it felt bad. She’d only been gone for seconds and already his life felt emptier. He felt sick, like he was going to vomit. He needed to fix it and fast. Because there was no way that he was going to lose Kagome over something like this.

Part Two

#mamabearcat fanfics #inukag fanfic #song and dance man #inukag #IYBCSS #IYBC SecretSanta 2020

[hollenka99]

The One Where More People Die

Summary: Marvin confronts Anti and learns something he wishes he hadn’t.

Warnings: Mentions of death, murder and manipulation

Marvin is apprehensive when he approaches the door. He honestly shouldn't be involving his brother in his superhero issues. Still, he was hopeful Sean would talk sense into him. The meeting proceeds as usual with coffee and chatter on the sofa. Marvin takes advantage of a natural lull in conversation.

"If I kill Anti, will you forgive me?"

He has never seen such a double take of this magnitude. "Marv, that's- fuck. You know I've always got your back as your brother but holy shit. You can't just dump that question on me."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just... I've been fighting this guy for years and he won't stop. Desperate times, desperate measures, you know?"

Sean places both his hands on Marvin's shoulders. "Listen to me, you are being super irrational right now. I get that you are extremely done with him, I do. But can you even hear yourself at the moment? Please tell me you can."

"One guy to s-"

"Oh no, we are not going there. Don't you dare start bringing these morality thought experiments into the conversation. This isn't some hypothetical situation, Marvin. This is real life. You are talking about killing an actual person. An extremely shitty person but still. I obviously can't speak from experience but I don't have to when I say it will fuck you up for a very long time. I am begging you, don't get your hands dirty. Hang on."

Sean abruptly heads to a mirror to scrutinise himself. When he goes to face his brother, he looks like a bootleg version of Anti. The hair's not long enough or the right shade of green. Nor is his skin as pallid as the true killer's. Also, Anti's ears seemed to be slightly pointed at the top, which Sean is probably not aware of. Still, for someone who has never seen Anti in person before, it's a decent attempt.

"Find a way to arrest me and get me to rot in jail. After all I've done, don't you think I deserve to?"

Marvin has stopped looking at his brother. Instead, he is pressing his face into his raised knees at the corner. "Please don't change into him. Come on, pretending to be him is a shitty thing to do."

"Yeah, no, you're... you're right." He returns to the sofa as himself before swinging an arm around Marvin's shoulder to pull him in. This would have to suffice as a conclusion to the subject for now.

----

Jackie is one of the first to witness Marvin's ecstasy when he is able to prevent one of Anti's attacks. It had been a chance encounter while he had been patrolling in the park. Anti's mistake was shifting prematurely. All it took was a small distraction to allow the potential kidnapping victim a chance to escape. Cat hadn't seen where the guy had run off to but at least he was safe. The only bad outcome was Anti disappearing from sight as well. Someone's life had been saved, Jackie encouraged him to focus on that.

Jackie decides to surprise him with cupcakes for when he comes home from a shift. The gesture goes down well. Marvin brings up his recent good deed again as they sample the baked goods. Jackie is really glad to see his friend in a better mood. He's seemed so stressed lately. Marvin won't confirm it but he can tell it's linked to his work as the Magnificent Cat.

Joel drops by to hang out with his Irish friends later on in the week. He certainly does his best to act as he does normally but it is clear something's on his mind. When Jackie temporarily walks outside the building for a smoke, he is surprised to see his friend follow him. They make small talk for a couple minutes before Jackie delicately questions whether Joel was okay. He reveals there'd been a death in the family, his grandfather. And no, seriously, there's no need to apologise out of sympathy. Joel rambles a little about the man before voicing an odd request. He asks about Jackie's father. Jackie doesn't understand how that will help things but there was no harm in humouring his grieving friend so fuck it. He's slightly taken aback by the fact this causes fresh tears to appear. It gets mentally brushed off as this being a highly emotional time for Joel.

Marvin interrupts the conversation when he calls down from the balcony for them to return already.

"I feel sorry for him. At least I knew this was coming for a while. Shit's going to hit the fan hard for him soon and he has no idea."

Joel doesn't elaborate. Jackie isn't sure he wants him to.

---

Jameson had better things to do on a Tuesday night than deal with his tormenter. Yet here the asshole was, dressed in skinny jeans and a dark t-shirt, leaning against the doorframe. Under different circumstances, perhaps the glowing red light that leaked into the hallway would have been pretty to notice. It's far from it when Jameson's swaying to music with his daughter in his arms gets rudely interrupted.

"Cool, huh? I think our meetings needed a bit of jazzing up. Where's Laura, by the way?"

"None of your concern." The radio transmits.

"Oh, we're doing this via radio?"

"I am holding a baby and I don't trust you to behave long enough for me to put her down. So yes, as much as I hate it, I am using a radio."

"Right. Well, anyway, the reason I'm here is because-"

"I am not your reset button. Fix your problems on your own."

"So you'll let a woman stay dead, knowing full well you could have saved her life?"

"I am not the one who killed her."

Anti does not appear to be impressed with this response. Arms still crossed, he walks in Jameson's direction. As he passes, clearly on the way to the front door, he delivers a side eye to the performer.

"You know the cool thing about having the gene? There's always something you can refine, explore or expand upon when it comes to your abilities. I suggest you keep that in mind."

Despite Anti's absence, Jameson doesn't feel like having fun this evening anymore.

---

Anti clearly wasn't too pleased about something. The news claims it doesn't know who is responsible for bodies showing up with evident trauma to the skull. Honestly, who else could it be? If Marvin's mind wasn't so preoccupied with recent developments, he may have noticed how suspicious it was to receive correspondence from his enemy shortly after venting to Sean about the new murders.

The note delivered personally by the sender to the apartment reads:

Alright Cat, town centre at 3 tomorrow?

Oh definitely. Marvin wouldn't miss this opportunity to end things once and for all if he tried.

Anti was a trickster, he already knew that. If there was somebody he could shift into, he would. And yet Cat was still momentarily shocked to find Jameson waiting for him. It's not him though. He can't exactly tell how he instantly knows but he does. The real Jameson is likely at home right now.

"Alright Anti, what are you trying to prove? You've already made it very clear you've done your research into my personal life. Why my cousin?"

The murderer begins speaking through his hands. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"No. Jameson can't speak and definitely wouldn't use his sound manipulation to pretend he could. You've been speaking the whole time I've known you. Do your homework more thoroughly before trying to frame him."

"Alright, you got me. Not Jameson. I wanted to have a little fun with it but I guess that's not going to happen."

No, it certainly wasn't. The door bursts open. Wind rushes in. Anti is thrown to the floor. The Magnificent Cat wastes no time ensuring he remains there. Weight on the chest, hand at the throat and fist raised to potentially target the face. A moment passes as Anti processes the rapid succession of events. That's when he resorts to the worst tactic. The person Cat threatens now looks like Sean.

"How dare you." He feels the cheekbone for a second when his knuckle connects with it. "Stop looking like my brother."

"It's me!"

"He is the last person you should shift into if you want me to listen." The nose is targeted.

"Marvin please."

"Shut the fuck up."

"It's me, I swear. It's actually me." Anti is beginning to produce crocodile tears now. As if that would work on Cat.

"Why the hell should I believe you?"

Anti wriggles his fingers. They spark slightly. Cat misses this detail, preoccupied with glowering. He certainly pays attention when Anti causes his own hair to stand as he moves his hands around it. Sean loved performing that trick when they were younger. Oh shit. Marvin rapidly removes himself from his brother.

The situation de-escalated, the two brothers allow themselves to have the past few minutes catch up with them. Marvin sits with his knees up, one arm around them while the other rests on his forehead. Sean, meanwhile, remains on his back while covering his entire face with his hands. His nose is bleeding as a result of the hit. They breathe.

"Are you alright? I'm s-"

"Oh, sure." The hands are moved so they don't obstruct his mouth anymore. Now the heels of them are being pressed into his eyes. "My baby brother just punched me in the face a few times but yeah, doing grand." Arms flopping to the side, Sean turns his head to face Marvin. "But would we be brothers if we didn't have fights?"

"Don't joke about that."

"I'd honestly take being beat up over having a knife aimed at me."

"I'm so sorry. I thought he shifted into you to try get me at a disadvantage. I-"

"Stop. We'll be here all night."

Eyes still springing tears, Sean forces himself to sit upright. Marvin takes this as his cue to strongly embrace his brother. Sean reciprocates the pressure following a moment of surprise. The brothers remain in each other's hold for as long as it takes for tonight's events to truly sink in.

"I want to go home."

Marvin couldn't agree more with that desire. At Sean's apartment, the two of them sit quietly on the sofa. Neither seems to know how to break the silence.

"You don't have to talk. But I wouldn't mind some answers."

"No, you're right. You deserve the truth."

Sean's tale begins when he is 16. One of the other boys from school had been following him home and harassing him. That nuisance combined with the foul weather made him want to get home as soon as possible. While taking a shortcut through a field, Sean had lost his cool and whipped round to confront the kid. All it had been was a shove. Of course, poorly suppressed aggression had to be translated into something. And when you have electricity at your disposal? Those results can prove deadly.

"He was just there on the ground. And I was 16, you know? What the hell do you do when you've just committed manslaughter? Then everyone started talking about it. I had so many opportunities to turn myself in but never did."

"Why didn't you then?"

"You're going to hate me for this but uh... you. Well, you and the fact it had been rough weather that afternoon anyway. No, don't look at me like that. You were like 6 or whatever. As if I was going to leave you alone with our parents just because my powers acted out for a second."

"I kinda remember it being on the news." Marvin mutters numbly. "...You killed someone."

"It gets worse."

As it turned out, Sean had befriended a fellow student called Will Andrews while at university. The two of them had organised a drinking session together. He had gone a little too far that night and unwittingly revealed the secret he'd believed he would take to his grave. Unbeknownst to Sean at the time, Will had the gene. In Will's case, it had manifested in the form of possession. It allowed him to completely take over the individual and, in cases like Sean's, use their power to his advantage. He'd then proceeded to blackmail Sean by threatening to turn him over to the authorities if Will wasn't allowed to have his way.

As Marvin allows himself time to silently process this, he glances at the portrait hanging on the wall. It's a picture of Sean, some 10 years younger and with barely any facial hair, as well as a woman with her black hair plaited past her shoulder. They're both evidently very happy in each other's company. Marvin would hope so, since they were dating. Or, at least, had been before Emily had ended it in the worst way. All Marvin remembers from that night is Sean going out for the evening, Emily coming over with her key and them ending up hanging out until Marvin reluctantly went to bed. Then being informed the next afternoon after school that her body had been found in a nearby river. His brother had been a wreck following what she had done.

"Was Emily alone that night?"

"Don't."

"She wasn't, was she?" It's clear Sean is unable to say 'no' aloud. However, from the way this topic appears to be his breaking point, he doesn't need to.

Marvin doesn't push it. He'd never understood how she could have been so happy while chilling with him then deliberately drown hours later. However, being 13 at the time, he'd simply taken Sean's word that it was a far more complex issue than he likely could grasp.

"This Will guy's been making you kill all this time?"

"Yes." A voice crack within the whisper.

They meld into one from the force of Marvin's arms around him. "I'm so sorry. I wish you would've told me earlier so I could have helped."

"Not your responsibility." is mumbled.

"As if I'm going to let you be upset just because I'm younger. Tell your single braincell that, Zapper."

-----

A man with green hair walks into the nursery. It's a lovely room, the little girl's parents hadn't done a bad job when preparing for her arrival. The majority of the walls are light blue, white clouds dotted about. Hardly a masterpiece but he's sure the 10 month old didn't mind too much. Little Freya had been peacefully dozing in her crib until he'd approached. Ah, even while sleeping, she proved to be her father's daughter. She begins stirring as she is lifted. Anti ensures her senses give her no reason not to settle. Still, that baby monitor wasn't purchased for no reason.

As if on cue, Jameson comes cautiously speed-walking through the door. His anxiety rapidly morphs into contempt.

"Sorry to disappoint, it's just me."

"Get out of my house."

"How about... no. Or at least, not yet."

Baby in his arms, he makes himself comfortable in the armchair positioned in the corner.

"A man repeatedly breaks into your house and now is holding your child. You're awfully calm for someone in this situation."

"You are in no way a threat to her."

"Oh really? I could do it. Just a few seconds and I'll be giving you my condolences."

"We both know you're not going to."

"You're really prepared to call my bluff in this situation? Somehow, I don't think you're stupid enough to risk your daughter's life."

"I'd simply rewind a few minutes."

"What about this afternoon?"

"Oh for the love of god."

"Marvin caught me off guard and it ended with me giving him a bullshit story. Obviously, he can't know any version of the truth."

"No."

"Jamie-"

The performer holds his hand upright. "How many times must I say 'no'? If he knows any part of the truth then good. He deserves to stay safe from your deception."

"Tried to frame you today, you know. He's thankfully too smart for that trick. But could you imagine if it had worked? Dozens of counts of murder will land you a whole life order. If they found you guilty, there's no minimum term. It's not like you'll re-enter society when she's in her 20s. No, you'll be there until you keel over."

"There is no evidence. I can't be convicted."

"But Anti's been seen at countless crime scenes. By none other than the guy who frequently collaborates with the police. You'd certainly be a suspect if he chose to talk."

"Then I would explain the shapeshifting serial killer has decided to use an innocent and well loved performer as his scapegoat."

The light suspended from the ceiling flickers. The disturbance increases speed until the lightbulb can't take the abuse any longer. Jameson simply sighs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or facepalm to emphasise his thoughts on this display. Time halts. Extracting Freya from Anti's arms is relatively easy. As soon as he touches her and wills it, she exists outside of time with her father. A safe distance from the man, his daughter safely in her crib as she should be, Jameson grants Anti the privilege of being freed from a temporal limbo.

"Grow up already." He glowers. "I am done with this little 'partnership' of ours. We both know you would never intentionally harm me or Freya. And don't you dare even consider laying a hand on Laura."

Anti puts his hands in the air so they are parallel to his head. "Alright, I get the message."

"Tell Marvin the truth. The real truth."

"Like hell I'll do something so stupid."

"Either you tell him or I will."

"We both know I would never risk him walking out of my life."

"The truth will come out eventually and it will be better if it comes from you. As for people leaving your life, well... I would have physically distanced myself long ago if there were not things keeping me rooted here."

"Really?"

This is evidently the final straw for Jameson. "You have abused my powers for your advantage, dressing it up as if I am doing justice. You have threatened the people I love so that I feel incentivised to do as you say. I struggle to sleep and I assure you it is not because I have a baby. You have made my life a misery and I have no obligation to play nice. Even when you stop looking like that, I don't want to be around you. But of course, I pretend the opposite is true to protect you. And yet, and yet, after all that stress and strife, you have the gall to act as if I owe you loyalty. I never have."

"I uh... didn't get all of that, sorry. But-"

"Then perhaps this will be a good summary." With one finger, he does indeed condense his message to something much more universally understandable.

"He won't forgive you for keeping this from him, you know." Anti remarks.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"Whatever."

Anti begrudgingly makes his exit. The whole time he travels home, he wonders how much time he has left before the inevitable catastrophic end of all he's known.

#jumbled au #my writing #tw death mention #I am going out for a birthday meal out and I am hyped to see what the reactions to this are

[blookmallow]

aaaand goodbye teruteru

------

the what now 

I GOT STUCK HERE FOR SO FUCKING LONG BC THEY GIVE YOU THIS. PILE OF INCOMPREHENSIBLE INSTRUCTIONS AND THEN NONE OF IT MAKES ANY SENSE

in dr1 they had a similar mechanic where you had to hit the buttons at the right tempo to knock out their statements, which was also confusing but i was starting to get decently good at it by the end of the game, but in this one the timing is TOTALLY OFF and i kept missing every single one and couldn’t figure out why, then realized it worked sometimes if i held down the button instead of just clicking it like you do in dr1 (which they didn’t explain!!! in this one!!!) but eventually figured out if i just like. double clicked on the beat i could break them for some reason. i dont know why. it works and i cannot explain how 

but then at the end when you reach the final strike, you have to put together a phrase out of four words to refute “where could the weapon have been?” and i was CONVINCED it was “On The Meat Bone” (even though technically it was hidden In the bone i guess) and i didnt realize i had the phrase wrong and thought i just wasn’t hitting it correctly for some reason so i failed this like 6 times before i finally realized it was MEAT ON THE BONE 

i understand owari’s not the type to give a shit probably but do you really wanna eat meat off of the skewer that was very recently repeatedly stabbed into a guy’s abdomen 

even if he cleaned it off before he put it back thats still like, fucked up lmao 

monokuma took care of it though i guess :’ ) 

kind of alarming that he’s capable of eating now, but 

THANK YOU NANAMI 

,,,,ok

I WILL SAY that the final closing sequence is WAY better in sdr2, it’s way way clearer what you’re looking for, the blanks give you hints as to what might go there, the picture options give you descriptions of what you’re looking at (frequently i know exactly what im trying to explain but cant figure out which picture goes where bc they’re just. incomprehensible out of context) and THEY FINALLY FIXED THE SCROLL THING :’) 

i dont know if its just broken as hell with a laptop trackpad and maybe it works with a mouse (or maybe it’s just not designed for pc in the first place, this was originally. ps vita or something i think) but the scroll sensitivity was SO broken in dr1 i spent most of my time just trying desperately to scroll to the thing i needed without scrolling past it 

i still have that problem when im trying to pick which truth bullet to fire but thats not As bad as this part was in dr1 at least

ok so my bIGGEST PROBLEM WITH ALL THIS, is WHY DIDN’T TERUTERU TELL ANYBODY ABOUT THIS 

if he Knew what komaeda was up to (and he did, it’s confirmed right after this) why didn’t he just go tell not-togami right away. even if he thought nobody would believe him, that guy would have taken it very seriously since he already was on his guard and knew there was a threat 

i mean i guess like. he saw an opportunity to kill komaeda, which he could feel justified about bc he knew komaeda was already planning a murder, and if he got away with it he could escape but that still means he was willing to sacrifice everyone else 

like he does give kind of a weak attempt at asking if it counts as an exception because it was sort of self defense (komaeda couldn’t kill him from where he was but he was gonna kill Someone so he was defending. someone) but he still.... knew komaeda was going to kill somebody and made the choice to just kill him himself without warning anyone or saying Anything and then kept that fact to himself too

back in dr1 again we had this similar situation in the first trial where leon actually was acting in self defense (which is Confirmed in the manga, he doesn’t get a chance to explain it in the game) and didn’t tell anyone but like... none of them knew yet if they could get off on a technicality and we don’t know if he might’ve been hoping for that, and he didn’t know sayaka was dangerous, he didn’t make the conscious decision to go kill her without telling anyone. he probably should have asked someone else for help when she lost it but his intention was to get in there to talk it out, so like. he tried to de-escalate the situation and became a killer by accident, teruteru had plenty of time to get help and decided to kill instead. and “hey byakuya i think komaeda is planning something bad” would have been a completely logical thing to do, he would have taken it seriously and teruteru would be innocent in that scenario, vs “guys i think i just killed sayaka but hear me out i didnt mean to” would NOT have gone over well, nobody’s gonna help him or believe him when it’s Sweet Dear Precious Sayaka, naegi could barely believe she attacked him even when they proved it with evidence 

i dont know i feel like teruteru had a lot more intent behind what he did. even if he would have been absolutely fucking justified in killing komaeda and i wish he had done it correctly :’  ) i think the “i dont care about taking everyone else down with him” is way more clear-cut here 

anyway, goodbye little bastard man 

motherfucker

i still CANNOT follow komaeda’s logic here 

he’s obsessed with the Ultimates... and believes in them SOOO Much :) he’s desperate to see them overcoming the ultimate despair... so he’s gotta kill somebody... to induce ultimate despair... so they can overcome it... i GUESS???

wouldn’t defeating monokuma and making it out of here on their own strength without resorting to murder at all be the ultimate hope triumph though. what are you DOING, komaeda

what is W R O N G wiTH YOu

well there he goes

i really wish someone would

P LE ASE DO 

AKANE OWARI MY QUEEN 

its not. clear but im pretty sure she Did punch him

its a crime that we dont get to see this, but 

i mean. she’s right 

i B U K I 

#lucy plays sdr2

[bat-lings]

I love everyone in the batfam no matter how problematic, but the Rhato 25 discourse bothered me. As a Bruce fan I didn't like the complete crucifixion of his character by the Jason diehards. Personally I feel Bruce was justified (the brutality felt like a publicity stunt for shock value, which I didn't like), but seeing these same fans (that hate Bruce for daring to hurt their fav) then celebrate when Jason did the exact same thing to Damian in the teen titans annual. It's so hypocritical.

Oh, Anon, I fear you inadvertently put the finger on the exact thing I despise about current storylines. I agree in that they’re taking the shock value too far and that every character suffers for it.

Frankly, I have more of a problem with what the fans are served than with how they reacted to it.

Fair warning, I’m gonna get very critical with the writing of the two events Anon mentioned. I’d be extra interested to hear about those events from the perspective of someone who actually enjoyed them, but it’s not worth your good mood if reading a post basically trashing said storylines upsets you.

I’ll respectfully disagree about Bruce’s behavior towards Jason. It was excessively brutal and nothing justified it. The scene can be summed up to shock value, to the point it would need to be entirely rewritten to exonerate Bruce. Jason relapsed into lethal force for understandable reasons. Even if we consider nothing excuses Jason; even in an alternative scenario where he’d have shot the Penguin out of the blue, Bruce’s behavior would be plain wrong.

Bruce went after him, assaulted him, and kept on beating him while Jason wasn’t defending himself.

Let’s forget this was Jason for a second. This is not the kind of violence Bruce should resort to against any criminal. I don’t just mean that hey, this isn’t ideal morally speaking, I mean that Bruce Wayne, as a character, as the man who was always written to believe in redemption/rehabilitation, as the man who willed never to use lethal or even unnecessary force, can’t do this and pretend to be remotely what Bruce’s character is supposed to represent. I hate it every time Bruce is written to use that kind of empty violence, preboot or reboot. Miller went down that road too and it never fulfilled my idea of entertainment.

Then you add on the fact that Jason’s his son, and it makes it all so much worse. Bruce legit puts the blame on Jason, not only during the confrontation (“I told you if you left me it’d be your choice”), but also in a later issue when Lobdell serves us a disastrous attempt at a reconciliation scene. “I love you but you deserved a kick in the ass.” Like, I don’t think Lobdell could’ve portrayed a more abusive father-figure if he wanted to.

As a comparison, have similar confrontations between Bruce and Dick in preboot.

[Batman (1940) #600]

So here there’s an actual fight. Dick is actively participating rather than being used as Bruce’s punching-ball. Power-wise, they’re equals.

You want a true equivalent to the scene between Jason and Bruce, where Dick suffers from a power-imbalance + Bruce being toxic?

[New Titans (1988) #55]

Note how it doesn’t go further than a punch because it’s bad enough that way and doesn’t need to escalate further to drive the narrative home. There’s no “I love you but you deserved a punch” bullshit later on either.

Even in Teen Titans: Year One where Bruce was particularly terrible (too much imo), he’s brainwashed when he hits Dick and nothing in the story/framing exonerates Bruce for his global behavior.

Those confrontations had a place in their narratives other than shock value. Bruce’s descent after Jason’s death, his mental state in Murderer/Fugitive. They illustrate how fucked up Bruce is at a specific moment due to specific events and context. They’re not casually dismissed afterwards by a hug and a dubious line. And again, they don’t require Bruce to beat Dick half to death to drive their point home.

By the way, this is reconciliation.

[Batman (1940) #605]

This is a component of the circle of abuse.

[Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #27]

“I love you. If only you weren’t so stubborn, you wouldn’t deserve an occasional kick in the ass. Like when I inflicted you severe physical trauma. But I love you anyway. Aaah, the woes of father-son relationships!”

There was no narrative reason for Bruce to take it that far with Jason in rhato. It’s just physically more violent and emotionally less impactful, because it’s so damn cheap and because it tries to pass abuse for a normal familial dissension that can be cured with a hug. I can’t get emotionally engaged with that kind of writing.

It’s a reboot, it’s entitled to change characters, but it’s simply not a Bruce I recognize nor one whose existence I’m particularly eager to acknowledge.

As for the Jason-Damian confrontation…

I don’t care that Jason didn’t want to fight and tried so hard to de-escalate the situation until Damian pulled out that mystery drama-box. I don’t care that Damian’s a trained fighter. Frankly, I don’t care about the specifics. At the end of the day, an adult beat the shit out of a child. A child who was framed in earlier appearances to be his little brother. A writer/editorial team/whoever the hell made the conscious choice to put those characters in the specific situation where an adult would beat the shit of a child family member.

You know, for all that I hate TT#29 for its cheap violence (and Jason’s less than ideal portrayal), it at least had the decency to oppose two characters of roughly the same age. And in this continuity, Jason was revived to be a villain. I may not like it but it’s expected that he acts villainous towards the fam, or Tim here. Plus Tim and Jason were never ever portrayed as brothers in post-crisis. They’re strangers. Them beating each other simply doesn’t have the same significance.

Have another preboot parallel where neither perpetrators are villains.

[Red Robin #14]

Here the writer puts Tim in a situation where he has to defend himself against a ten-year-old. There’s a punch, and then the violence stops. That’s it. Much like the preboot Dick-Bruce confrontations, it doesn’t need to be taken further. The story delivers its point without any ten-year-old getting beaten senseless by an older ally.

Seriously, how does this…

[Batman (2016) #16]

…exist in the same continuity as this?

[Teen Titans Annual 1 (2019)]

How is this a good way to portray familial dissensions/confrontations of any kind?

You’re the writer. You decide if the 20 something is gonna throw hands with the 13 year old. You decide how the father figure reacts to the son’s actions. You decide how far each confrontation goes. You decide whether two characters that were explicitly portrayed as brothers are gonna bleed each other out. You decide whether the father figure is abusive. You decide what happens, how it happens, how it’s resolved, and how every element is framed.

Physical violence is just another narrative tool that should be used to construct a story. You can’t just throw it in, dial it up to 11, and hope it’ll make your scene impactful. It just proves you don’t know how to write a vivid scene without relying on cheap tricks.

Anon, I get your frustration, I don’t like what’s done of Bruce either. I made a post about his parental failures in preboot ( bat-lings.tumblr .com/post/180901354160/do-you-think-bruce-was-a-bad-father-im-starting); none of them ever reached rhato’s caricatural empty brutality. Bruce is less and less well received by fans as he’s sometimes instrumentalized in sequences that don’t fit his character. It’s not fair on him.

But I can’t seem to disconnect with what we are given long enough to worry about how we react to it. And to be fair I’ve seen as many posts hating on Jason’s recent actions than hating on Bruce’s.

Tbh bad writing/ooc-ness aside there’s little anyone can say to exonerate either character here. The fans are reacting vividly because they’re faced with a story that has little else to sell other than vivid brutality. We all go “gasp!”, pick sides, and that’s it. It’s hard to breed interesting discussion among fans with that configuration.

The good news is, each of those characters have seen better days, and not everything in reboot is as bad as the above sequences. Also we have fanfictions :D

#jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #batfamily #meta #asks #zae chatters

[emperorsfoot]

Can we talk about how Kevin has never had a stable Father-Figure

Seriously. 

Kevin Levin has never had a stable or consistent (or even really very positive) father-figure or male role model in his life. Don’t believe me? Lets take a look at his life!

1.

Harvey Hackett

Kevin’s step father. 

Admittedly, very little is known about Harvey since he only appears in one scene in one episode. But what we don’t know of him first hand, we can infer from dialogue. 

In Harvey’s exchange with Kevin in “Ultimate Power Part 2″, we learn that even though Kevin was an 11-year-old child when they lived together, Harvey was afraid of him. Imagine what they must be like, to be a child that young and one of your two main care-givers, one of your parents is afraid of you. That would totally mess with a kid’s head. And -clearly- it did when in the exact same conversation Harvey says that Kevin destroyed the house and ran away from home. And before any of you say “well, doesn’t that just prove Harvey was right to be afraid of Kevin?”, let me remind you that KEVIN WAS A CHILD AT THE TIME! 

He was only 11-years-old (or younger, we don’t know how long he was living on the streets). Children that young need care, understanding, encouragement and support! Especially special needs children. Say what you will, but a pre-pubescent kid with superpowers counts as a “special need” child. Children like that need their adult care-givers to understand them, or if not understand them, then at least make adaptations for them to better thrive. Not only did have clearly NOT do that for Kevin, but he also went one step father to openly admit to rejecting Kevin. 

To a child that young, being fearful of them is indistinguishable from rejecting them. Kevin picked up Harvey’s fear and only saw a parent who didn’t want him. 

So, he had a mental/emotional breakdown, used his unnatural super-powers to destroy their house, and ran away from home. 

Or, from Kevin’s perspective based on what he told Ben in “Kevin 11″ from the Original series, his parents threw him our because they didn’t like having a “freak” for a son. 

Kevin would see Harvey’s fear of him as a rejection and might run away from home imagining they would kick him out anyway. While Harvey would interpret Kevin’s destructive tantrum and running away as Kevin proving how “bad” a child he was instead of the cry for help that it actually was. 

Both characters’ stories are true. 

But that doesn’t change the fact that Harvey was a terrible parent and father-figure to Kevin. 

Now, lets look at his second male role model and father figure. 

2. 

Kwarrel

The inmate whom Kevin met in prison and took him under his wing. 

I could argue that Kwarrel is Kevin’s most positive male role model. Because, honestly, in the short time that they knew each other, Kwarrel did more for Kevin than any other adult figure he ever met. 

When Kevin first met Kwarrel he was newly trapped in the Null Void and newly sentenced to the prison Incarcecon. He was physically deformed by the Omnitrix and -as far as Kevin knew- permanently disfigured. Understandably, Kevin was angry, resentful, even hateful. One of the first scenes in the flashback that introduces Kwarrel is one of Kevin beating the crap out of other inmates and then asking for more. 

Seeing through Kevin’s rage and hostility, Kwarrel approaches him and strikes up a friendship. Through their friendship Kwarrel helps Kevin, not only, let go of his anger, but also helps him learn how to better control and use his powers. 

In the entire franchise, Kwarrel is the ONLY adult who works with Kevin constructively to develop and control his powers. 

We also see that Kwarrel is the one who taught Kevin to absorb matter so that he wouldn’t have to rely on absorbing energy and rest madness, or disfiguring mutation, or both. 

Sadly, Kwarrel was only with Kevin for less than a year before he was shot in the back and killed. 

All of this can be seen in “...Nor Iron Bars a Cage” in the Ultimate Alien arc of the series. I highly recommend you go and give it a rewatch. It is one of my favorite episodes. 

After Kwarrel dies helping Kevin escape from Incarsecon, he ends up running headlong into the path of our next terrible father-figure, and -quite possibly- the most toxic of all...

3.

Proctor Servantis

A power-mad Plumber with much too much influence and privilege compared to moral fiber. 

I could write chapters on this guy. But for this post, I’ll try to be brief.

When Kevin first meeds servants, he’s a ordinary human that’s employed by the Plumbers and stationed on the Null Void. He rescues Kevin from a pack of Vulpimancers that attacked him when he was wandering the Null Void an unknown amount of time after escaping Incarsecon (it could not have been that long since Kevin looks to still be between the ages and 11 and 12). 

Saving Kevin’s life was great and all. I would not like the Ben 10 franchise nearly as much as I do if Kevin stopped being a character after the age of 12. 

But almost immediately after meeting Kevin, Servants started manipulating him and using him. First just using his powers to conduct inhuman experiments on other children and aliens. Using Kevin’s Osmosian powers to graft alien DNA onto the genes of otherwise perfectly ordinary human children. 

That quickly escalated into sending Kevin and the other children on black ops missions that would have been dangerous even for adults. He basically turned Kevin into a child-soldier and used him to make other child-soldiers. 

Then, when Kevin and his team failed in one mission (the mission to kill Ben) Servants threw a juvenile tantrum and used the powers that Kevin gave him to wipe everyone’s memories and then ABANDON them to wander the Null Void alone. 

Oh, but wait, not only did Servants wipe Kevin’s memory and abandon him to the equivalent of a Turkish prison/space Australia, but Servants ALSO created false memories to replace Kevin’s real one. There by erasing part of his past and part of his identity in the process. 

And that leads me into our next weak and inconsistent father-figure...

4.

Devin Levin

Our super-sexy space daddy that I just wanna... uh... 

Anyway...

If you only ever watched Ben 10 up to the end of Ultimate Alien and nothing past it, then you would know Devin as a pure-blood Osmosian from planet Osmos V, whom married a human woman, Mrs. Levin, and had Kevin. And, from all appearances, did manage to live and be present in Kevin’s life for some time.

At least, there is a photo of Kevin with Devin in Kevin’s house. Its always hard to tell cartoon ages since they’re cartoons, but Kevin looks to be about 4 or 5 years old. That’s old enough to have vague memories of his father. 

From the ONE and ONLY flashback we get of Devin, he appears to deeply love his son and wife and is not only willing to die for them, but in fact DOES die for them. He dies protecting Earth from total planetary destruction, and as Devin dies in Max’s arms his last words are to tell his wife and son that he loves them. 

That sounds like a really great father-figure, right?

Except that he died when Kevin was 4. So, its not like he was ever actually present or active in Kevin’s life. 

But worse than that, if you DO watch beyond Ultimate Alien and into Omniverse you will see that they ret-con Devin. They ret-con him OUT!  Now, Devin never existed in the first place. Instead, he was a false memory constructed by Proctor Servants and implanted into the minds of Kevin Levin and Max Tennyson. In Kevin, so that the Osmosian would have a motivation to become a Plumber, team up with Ben and Gwen, and become a sleeper agent poised to spring when Servants reappeared. And, in Max’s mind so that Max would accept Kevin on the team without question and look out for him.

So, not only did Devin die, not only did Devin not exist, but Devin was just some little flourish to further nefarious schemes, a conspiracy, and an assignation plot. 

So... fuck Kevin. Am I right?

But I’m not done. I saved the best for last. Are you ready for number five?

5.

Max Tennyson

That’s right, Max mother-fucking Tennyson! 

Now, before you all get angry and rage replay that I’m just a hater who hates Team Ben, please remember the Original Series. Please remember Max’s backstory. Please remember how they develop Max’s character of the course of the franchise, all the way from the OS, through AF/UA, to the end of Omniverse. 

Max raised two children of his own. He is helping raise three grandchildren. He has LOTS of experience with children. 

Max is a Plumber. He’s a space cop. An alien police. He has lots of experience with people with extraordinary and super-human powers. He knows how to deal with them, how to de-escalate situations with them, how to keep them from using their powers to hurt others. (Or at least, one would assume he knows these things since that’s a Plumber’s fucking job!)

So, what does Max do the first time they meet?

Abandons him! That’s what!

At the end of the episode “Kevin 11″ the first episode where we ever meet Kevin, the fight between Ben and Kevin doesn’t “conclude” so much as it just ENDS. There’s an explosion and -at first- Kevin is buried under a bit of rubble, which gives Ben the opportunity to return to Max’s side. But Kevin craws out pretty quickly after that. He’s conscious and ambulatory. Ben, Gwen, and Max SEE him. He’s just on the other side of the train tracks. Its not like its impossible for anyone to get to him. So, what does Max do?

He takes his own children and WALKS THE FUCK AWAY! He -literally- turns his back on Kevin the first time they met. 

At this point in the franchise, Kevin is a homeless, rejected, unloved child with special needs, that no one in his life has ever tried to understand. 

Max is a grown adult who has experience with both children and people with extraordinary powers. He is the best equipped person (possibly in the world) to be a care-giver to Kevin. But Kevin’s not his, so why the fuck bother!? Right?

Even when Kevin keeps showing up. 

In “Framed” when Kevin is stalking Ben, posing as Ben, and committing crimes to frame Ben (which is, by the way, a cry for help), Max has another opportunity to help Kevin. And he wouldn’t even have to take care of the kid himself. 

In “Framed” there was this other group tracking Kevin. Some kind of SWAT team that specialized in extraordinary cases. All Max had to do was tell those guy that “hey, this monster here is really just a disfigured child, you should take care of him” and then be on his way. But Max didn't even do that! 

Just mentioning to that group which was clearly well funded, well equipped, and well trained, that this one monster they were trying to subdue was an unbalanced child who needed help would have been doing the BARE MINIMUM to help Kevin. Literally, the absolute minimum. 

But Max wouldn’t do even that! 

In fact, Max didn’t begin to give a rat’s ass about Kevin Levin until Proctor Servants had to alter his fucking brain! and give him fake memories of a partner who never existed. 

Even then, Max STILL agreed with Ben when Ben decided it was better to kill Kevin than rehabilitate him during the Ultimate Kevin arc. 

In short, 

ALL OF KEVIN’S FATHER-FIGURES/MALE ROLE MODELS ARE TERRIBLE!

Its actually amazing he managed to become as well adjusted, helpful, constructive and GOOD, a person as he has. 

#Kevin Levin #Kevin 11 #Kevin 11000 #Ultimate Kevin #Osmosian #rooters #Proctor Servantis #Devin Levin #Kwarrel #Max Tennyson #Harvey Hackett #ben 10 #alien force #ultimate alien #omniverse #vendetta #nor iron bars a cage #ultimate power #weapon xi #gwevin #KEVIN IS A PRECIOUS BABY! #I love him #I wish more people in the fandom loved him #he is the reason I watched the show

[mnm-inc-miles]

—— 930pm Thursday Jan 23, 2020 ——

It was late at night and JJ had agreed to go out dancing with Jack. He was nervous about leaving Chris, though maybe paranoid was a more befitting description for his feelings. He was certain, now that he’d made it this far in the game, that more things were bound to happen. He was convinced they wanted him to fail.

“Let’s go they’re fine,” Jack gave a tug at his arm. “You need to relax JJ, you’ve done such a great job so far. But you’re being too hard on yourself. It’s stressing you out more than it should.”

“If I fail...”

“Stop, you won’t. And regardless what happened we’re your family and we’ll always love you.” It was like Jack literally read his mind, his exact thoughts. If he couldn’t do this, if he couldn’t bring his dad back safely, he feared his family would disown him. Dramatic? Perhaps. But he couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t happen.

“So just drinks and then we’re going home, right?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“I don’t think I can do this Jack, I know you want to stay out until I relax, but I’m not sure I can. When Dad is back we’ll party...but I can’t. I’m so close,” his eyes began to water. “Maybe if I fail you’ll still love me, but I’ve always been my worst critic.”

Jack was quiet a moment as they continued to walk toward their destination. He sighed, “Don’t tell Mom or Amy I said this, but I know Dad would agree with me. This won’t be worth it if you don’t make it out too JJ. If doing this breaks you...it would break dad and we’d loose you both.”

JJ was silent, he didn’t know how to respond to that. He swallowed hard then wrapped an arm around his brother and gave him a squeeze.

“Just think of this as an opportunity,” Jack added. “I know you’re viewing it as a test, but it’s not. This is a chance to get dad back. It should be a happy endeavor.”

“Yeah alright,” JJ relented. He wanted to at least feign comfort in that statement. Even if there was truth in it, JJ knew it wasn’t that black and white. A lot of people were counting on him to do this right, including his Dad, and he’d already taken a few missteps.

——— Later that Night ———

It was approaching 1am and Jack had managed to keep JJ out way later than intended. He was surprised that he was able to relax, though there’s nothing like a few drinks to ease your nerves.

“I think it’s time,” JJ finally stated, giving his brother a playful smile. “I’m exhausted. I may actually sleep tonight, what’s left of it anyway.”

Jack gave a nod and settled the tab as the two walked out. “You know...we ought to talk about why you aren’t sleeping.”

“There isn’t much to say. I’m just stressed, been somewhat restless is all. It’ll pass.”

“Yeah. But you’re always tired...”

“I think that’s called being a parent.” He paused a moment, listening. He thought he could hear faint distant cries of a child. “It’s really nothing. As long as I get some sleep it’s fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked, noticing the sudden seriousness on JJ’s face. Suddenly there was shouting and then a child screaming. JJ tore away from Jack and followed the sound. Jack hustled after him.

Coming around a corner on the edge of a bridge was a hooded figure smacking a child repeated over the head. “Let go of me, we can’t have any more...”

Jack watched in horror and shook his head, grabbing his brother, “We need to go...” but then he watched as a young child leaned dangerously over the edge of the bridge.

“Join him if you must, one less mouth to feed...” she picked the child up and held him over the bridge edge. The child wailed and held on tight to his mother screaming sorry.

“Hey!” JJ ran over and forcefully pulled the woman and the child away from the edge. “What the hell is wrong with you? That’s murder.”

He watched his hands grip her neck, “How would you like it?” He shut his eyes and waited for the moment to pass. Watching behind closed lids as he strangled the woman to death, her child screaming in the process.

Suddenly a sting on his cheek and he realized the hooded figure had struck him hard.

“I’m calling the police,” Jack shouted, hoping to de escalate the situation. He reached his hand in his pocket and let his fingers fumble clumsily around his phone.

“Who the fuck do you think you are,” the woman shouted, attempting to hit him across the face again. JJ caught her wrist. “This is my damn business,” she growled, her eyes hazy and bloodshot. With her other hand she clawed JJ across the face and tried to pushed him away.

JJ shut his eyes and tried to fight more images of violence. The boys screams continued to echo in his ear. “JJ...we need to go...”

Opening his eyes again he watched the woman dragging the chick away, punching him in the throat to get him to stop crying. He swallowed hard, grabbed a rock from the side of the road and rounded on her hard, her body dropped and blood began to pool on the ground around her head.

“JJ...” Jack gasped. “Fuck...no no no...”

JJ was breathing hard and he tried to collect himself. Flashes of turning to the screaming child and snapping his neck occurred but he shook the images. He sat down on the cold street and just watched the child for a moment.

“JJ...I think we should call the police,” Jack’s voice cracked, fear seeping in.

“Give me a moment,” JJ breathed, tears starting to roll down his own cheeks. Jack didn’t listen and began to dial anyway. “Are you okay kid?”

“She killed them...my momma, and then...” the boy suddenly crumbled to the ground and sobbed. JJ carefully crawled closer and wrapped his arms around the small child.

“JJ, I called the police, we need to leave.” He walked over and placed a hand on the woman’s wrist, “she still has a pulse, maybe she’ll live...”

“What about the kid...” JJ sighed as the child clung to him.

“I...I don’t know JJ, the police will take care of it right?”

He gave a slight nod, feeling incredibly guilty having possibly murderer his mother, even if she was about to kill her own son.

JJ went to stand and the child clung to him tighter, “please don’t leave...”

“I can’t stay kid, I did something bad, I have to go before I get in trouble, but the police will take care of you.”

“You save me!” He cried as he hugged JJ’s chest. “Mama said the police are bad...”

JJ sighed and studied the child a moment. Due to the color of he and his mother’s skin, she probably had reason feel that way. “Do you have a Dad? Can we take you to him?”

“Please don’t...he’s a mean man...he hits me...” The child stared up at him with wide eyes, and JJ was astounded by the level of intelligence the kid exuded.

“JJ I hear sirens...” Jack spoke and as he did so, he watched his brother scoop the small child into his hands and begin to walk away. “Uh...JJ, this is a bad idea.”

“I can’t leave him Jack.” He cradled the child against his shoulder and the boy quickly fell asleep. “Lucky will help us figure it out.” Jack didn’t want to argue at this point as the sirens drew closer to the now crime scene.

[araniaart]

Shitty Treatment by 5Star and Staffmember at Comicpalooza

 I'm going to post this separately because I do feel that it needs to be heard, and I want to express this.  However, I am going to keep this as a separate post from the highlights of the convention:

Things started off about as bad as they could have gotten - my wife suffers from anxiety and depression and is really succeptible to panic attacks.  For the most part, cons have been incredibly theraputic for her - and a way to feel more confident with both crowds and herself.  We've been taking some proactive measures to help bolster that, including our therapist suggesting and writing a letter for her to take with her to conventions explaining the situation and asking for allowances for entrances/egresses when necessary.  My wife has been having a lot of issues especially lately with a relapse thanks to a change in medication when the manufacturer for a generic brand of her wellbutrion changed (SERIOUSLY - tangentially, if you are someone on a wellbutrin generic and had it change lately, and have been having a crash - LOOK INTO THIS!  We only put a pin on the source of this after hearing stories from other people.  Generics only have to be within a 20% margin of the name brand to be FDA approved, and wellbutrin is notorious for having had issues with generics in the past because the name brand is prohibitively expensive and not covered by pretty much any insurances).  We were looking forward to the con as that carrot to help lift her up after having been going through a bad crash and starting to make steps with things finally begining to improve again.  

She gets the most anxious especially coming in - and that's exactly where the problem happened - a particularly nasty private secuirty guard form 5 Star Security not only refused to assist, refused to even look at the letter ("I don't have to look at that") but when my wife began to freak out at being talked down to/nastily rebuffed, the woman escalated issues, got up in her face and threatened to "bust up your face" - and when she understandably was freaking out, not backing down when I tried to get space between them, and my wife practicaly begging for assitance and needing to go above her head to report this harassment/violation of all kinds of ADA situations, said "I guess you do need help because you ARE a crazy bitch". I was floored and my wife was realy, really hurt - to someone suffering from a mental disorder, that kind of slur when you're needing help is deeply insulting as well as invalidating and dismissive.  

If that was't bad enough, after medical assistance was called over to help her get down from her panic attack, one of the high-up con directors was called over (who came when we said we -needed- to talk to someone with the con who was in charge of security) - Peggy Kay -  not only refused to believe us (because, of course, the security guard lied about the incident) - but also refused to even fucking apologize on behalf of hte con - which really, is what we were looking for.  We even _said_ that that is what we were looking for so we could attempt to move on from this incident.  She refused to let us speak to her superior, claiming that she was as far up as it would go.  The only person at the incident remotely helpful in trying to de-escalate other than the medical technician was a legit police officer who actualy had some kind of training with working with people with mental disorders, and who spoke with us afterwards, helped reassure us, and escorted us to where we needed to go after that.

We about left the con at this point - it was so jarring, and it was exactly the kind of experience that my wife especially has always had anxiety about happening.  We ultimately decided to push through based on certain aspects being nonrefundable, and a few things that we honestly hoped would be worth it later in the day, but this didn't drop.  We really wanted some kind of resolution - the con, beyond the incredibly disrepctful security company and the eye-rolling and refusal to accept responsibility or even try to apologize of the con manager.  Even if - IF - she hadn't believed us - any kind of service industry should cater to wanting your /guests/ who paid a lot of money to attend your event to have a good experience.  

We weren't able to find any kind of resolution to this until Sunday - and this really, really put a turd in what otherwise would have been a stellar convention.  I did everything I could to help my wife re-center, feel taken care of, and supported.  I was furious at the staff - not just because of the incredibly belligerant action of the secuity guard, but outright refusing to believe what happened (I witnessed it, I was right there,  I KNOW what happened).  My wife spent many hours in the hotel room  - really having a hard time shaking past having been seriously triggered, skittish when she was out, hand-wringing and I could tell looking over her shoulder and scared she'd run into the people who were so callous.  And it's frustrating, because all in all, all of the con volunteers, everyone who worked the con who was there because they loved fandom - were wonderful.  The convention center is beautiful and the only con I've been to lately that is actually spaceous enough to accomodate the crowds - which is such a rare and valuable commodoty - especially when you are working with people who get really nervous with the reallllly tightly packed crowds.  

On sunday, we needed to find some kind of resolution before we left - and ultimately, after stirring the pot and looking for management to talk to about the incident - Peggy turned up again stonewalling us and eyerolling - and when we said we needed to get her name so we could file some kind of report about the treatment she said "I welcome an inquiry" nastily and flipped her badge around to hide her name.  Fortunately I had looked before she flipped it, so I am certainly putting that out there as much as I can.

However, after speaking with a very nice gentleman who represented the convention center, and a very NASTY and dismissive head of 5 Star security at the center (who said, in a nut shell, You filed your report - I read it, and I don't belive you.  I'm not going to apologize, I'm not going to do anything) we fortoutously ran into the operations manager, DJ,  speaking with Peggy - who identified himself as her boss.  We spoke with him aside, explained the situation - how hurt we were, how mistreated we felt by Peggy and 5 Star Secuirty.  He was apalled, listened, and apologized.  Asked what we needed and we said genuinely - that's what we were looking for - some kind of understanding - an assurance that the issue would be investigated - that the mistreatement of fans an people with disabilities would be accomodated.  Especially because there is such a stigma against people with  invisible disabilities.  

I have heard that the convention was recently sold by the original organizers to a company who typically runs the sporting events in the city, and it shows.  Many of the other staff and volunteers have had issues with the new management and dealing with sportsball bros is a whole different situation from working with groups of fans of comics.   And this just feels to me to be yet another example of abyssmal service trends that has been cropping up more and more lately :(  

Please, feel free to repost this and share because people need to understand how affecting this is to people trying to overcome these kinds of obstacles in their lives.  And if anyone who reads this and was at Comicpalooza and saw what happened, PLEASE contact us because 5 Star refuses to believe us that this happened and I know at least two people came up to us after the incident and saw it.  If you can signal boost it for that, it would mean a lot to us.

#comicpalooza #comicpalooza 2017 #mental health #mental illness #Disabilities #invisible disability #long post #wellbutrin #medication #signal boost