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#he knows what the consequences could be if he's discovered but he still chooses to step into the wolf's den anyway
stormyoceans · 2 years
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something something kinn sending pete to spy on vegas like a lamb to the slaughter in the novel vs pete willingly walking up to the sacrificial altar himself in the show.. and that making all the difference in how vegaspete is gonna happen
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cjrae · 1 month
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Rank And Responsibility. Or: The Hairpin Scene from Jinshi's POV.
Be warned now about the consequences of choosing to do an English Lit degree - you end up doing lit crit for fun. With that in mind, let's break down the hairpin scene at the end of Covert Operations (Episode 5). Mild spoilers for Jinshi's arc are below.
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While this moment does kick off the romantic subplot, with all the implications that giving Maomao the hairpin out of his own hair has, I would argue that this is not the moment Jinshi realizes he's in love with Maomao. Instead, from his point of view, this scene demonstrates how Jinshi handles failure.
Holding Power In An Open Palm
This is still very early in the story. Our first hint to Jinshi's true rank does come in this scene, but for now we know him as the manager of the Rear Palace. For the three thousand people who live and work there, for all intents and purposes, Jinshi is the highest authority they will encounter. He literally has the power of life and death over them, either directly in the case of the servants and eunuchs, or in the case of the consorts, his word to the Emperor directly can serve the same purpose. We also see Jinshi use this power early on - he's not just there to keep order, but also to test the consorts' loyalties and virtue. We never see what happens to the lower-ranked consort who attempted to invite Jinshi back to her room, but at the very least that report ensures that her already small chance of the Emperor choosing her as a potential mother of the nation is utterly cut off - and if she doesn't bear children, she will be discarded.
We also know that Jinshi will not hesitate to order corporal punishment if he views it necessary - for example, when Maomao discovers that the toxic face powder is still being used by Consort Lihua's ladies in waiting, she mentions in the aftermath that the eunuch who failed to recover the powder was flogged, while the lady in waiting who hid the powder is put in solitary confinement. These are brutal punishments - and if we consider the historical inspirations, these are also very restrained consequences. For hiding an item that caused the death of the prince (unfortunately, the more valuable child) and has put the life of one of the Emperor's favored High Consorts in danger, Jinshi would be utterly within his rights to order executions. If ignorance is a sin, ignorance in the face of knowledge is a greater one.
Microcosm of Li
For all that Jinshi holds his power lightly, he also takes the responsibility that power bestows upon him quite seriously. It's worth noting that Jinshi takes over governing the Rear Palace shortly after Maomao's service contract is purchased. (Remember, Xiaolan talks about the "beautiful, new eunuch that's been posted to the central courtyard," which tells us that Jinshi has not been in the Rear Palace long enough to become a fixture - he's an object of speculation and admiration from episode 1).
In context it's clear that, with the birth of two Imperial children, his job is to ensure the survival of the Imperial line and investigate why children of the Emperor are dying consistently in one of the wealthiest and safest places in the entire empire. We're shown him running in between Lady Lihua and Lady Gyokuyou to ensure that their very sick children are being seen to properly, investigating what could be causing it, while also managing tensions as rumors about the Emperor's children being cursed begin to spread and outright accusations of sorcery are being thrown between consorts. While the audience might immediately scoff along with Maomao at the idea of one consort cursing another, if Maomao hadn't found the cause of death, those types of accusations followed by Lady Lihua's and Princess Lingli's inevitable deaths could have ended with Lady Gyokuyou's execution.
The Rear Palace is a reflection of the nation as a whole. No Imperial heirs plus the deaths of two High Consorts with various foreign and domestic political ties had the potential to thrust the entire nation into chaos. Jinshi's choices have very real consequences, so when Maomao discovers what the true cause of death is and sends her warning, Jinshi looks at Maomao and doesn't see a person. He sees a "perfect pawn." A tool, one with talents that have ensured that at least one Imperial child has survived and providing a rational explanation why these children have died so that it can be prevented from happening again - and a skill set that can be turned to preventing any more shenanigans in the Rear Palace that could threaten the empire's foundation.
And, as Gaoshun points out, in the beginning of the hairpin scene, she is a toy. Maomao amuses Jinshi up until this point.
For all that Jinshi is shown wielding power with a light hand and a responsible mindset, it literally doesn't occur to him that the people working in the rear palace have stories - some tragic - about how they came to be there. They are resources to be used as befits the Emperor's (and therefore the nation's) need.
Hidden Beauty
When Maomao turns around and Jinshi doesn't recognize her until she speaks, he's shocked. He thought he knew exactly who and what this girl was - ugly and unremarkable, except for her intellectual brilliance and the challenge in managing her by other means than empty compliments and smiles. He attempts to recover and assumes that she is enhancing her looks - and is shocked again when he realizes that the face Maomao has presented to him so far is a protective mask against attracting attention. In a world where beauty is both a currency and a tool that others covet, Jinshi doesn't understand why Maomao would deliberately devalue herself like that. So she tells him.
This is the moment Maomao becomes a person to Jinshi.
Not a toy, not a pawn. Someone who has been ripped from her home and her life illegally and sold off. It's in this moment that Jinshi is forced to confront the ugly side of the society he lives in, people who would rape Maomao out of pure convenience or just take a "borderline marketable" girl off the street in order to get extra drinking money.
Worse, Jinshi is complicit in Maomao's captivity. The Rear Palace has bought her contract - and as the manager of the Rear Palace, Jinshi is responsible for everything that happens within its' walls. The fact that Jinshi does not personally oversee service contracts is irrelevant. The buck stops with him. If the Matron of the Serving Women or whoever is below her is buying these contracts without checking their sources, that is Jinshi's fault because he has allowed a lax enough system to flourish. He has failed to govern this microcosm of the nation wisely, with thought for the welfare of the least powerful among his people. Worse, he has failed to even notice the problem - Maomao may say she's angry about having been kidnapped and sold, but she doesn't react in a way that indicates anger. Instead, she's resigned. Yes, what happened to her was wrong and she's angry about it, but there's literally nothing she or Jinshi can do.
Or Is There?
Jinshi offers Maomao two apologies, the first of which is our first hint to his true status. "I'm sorry we couldn't police them better." Maomao immediately blows off this apology - she points out that there's no way Jinshi should have known and has a very "all's well that ends well" attitude about her situation - her contract will be up eventually and in the meantime she's managed to land in a fulfilling role. Essentially Maomao is telling Jinshi that this apology is not his to make - he's overstepping his responsibility. And, if Jinshi were simply the manager of the Rear Palace, she would be right. It's his job to ensure that the Rear Palace is properly staffed, not to regulate that all contracts comply with the law.
Jinshi apologizes again. This time, he offers no other context. He doesn't accept Maomao's absolution of responsibility - because he knows (even if we, the audience, don't) otherwise. It can certainly be read as Jinshi refusing to accept easy absolution, and the rest of those witnessing the scene, apart from Gaoshun, certainly take it that way.
Instead, he takes the hair stick from his own hair and places it in Maomao's. Their entire relationship has just been upended; Maomao is a person who has been gravely wronged and it is Jinshi's responsibility to begin to make it right. Aside from the personal implications of giving her the hairpin (and the faint blush on his face makes it clear that he's aware of them), it is a form of restitution. There is an unspoken social contract Jinshi is offering that Maomao does not understand in the slightest. It never occurs to her that Jinshi would do something for her with no thought of what he would receive in return, because of the difference in their social ranks. But, from Jinshi's perspective, that social difference is the point. He has failed her and, as the person of higher rank, it is his responsibility to do what is within his power to begin to remedy the situation in front of him.
And, of course, in that moment he sees Maomao in a new light, the other meaning of gifting her his hairpin has fertile ground to take root in Jinshi's mind.
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I think "Bad Writing on Purpose" is a misnomer.
And people focus too much on it.
First of all, I really don't understand why people were surprised by the cliffhanger. Everyone was talking about how Neil said season 2 was going to be "quiet, gentle, and romantic" but nobody noticed that he also, on multiple occasions, wrote that season 2 was not the sequel he and Terry plotted, but what needed to happen to get the characters to where they needed to be at the start of what they plotted as the book sequel but would now be season 3. He was always completely open that season 2 was a bridge, and after reading it here and there before season 2 came out, I for one knew that season 2 would most likely end with a cliffhanger.
I mean, I surely didn't know we would get OFMD-ed, that was indeed a surprise, but I knew there would be a cliffhanger. Why didn't you?
Now I have read ariaste's famous 15 000 word essay. I find her theory quite brilliant. I don't think she will be (totally) right about it, it's too specific and too reliant on her assumption of how the Book of Life works. I also disagree with some of the details of what she calls "bad writing". Especially Maggie might just be portrayed as a dork neurodivergent. And some of her visual "clues" already turned out to be simple homages. (Not "The Crow Road", though, I think. Yes, Neil and Terry were friends with Ian Banks. But he has written like 40+ books, why choose THAT one, the one that deals in part with people solving a mystery by going through old documents, just after we are shown that Aziraphale keeps diaries and definitely leaves them in the bookshop when he's going to heaven? Even if we ascribe its first appearance to the famous opening line which Gabriel reads aloud, why show the same book a second time, mid-frame?)
Also, yes, I disliked that Aziraphale's & Crowley's new first meeting put them on the wrong foot with each other, when their meeting in Eden had established them as kinda instant co-conspirators from the very beginning. The same with Crowley in the Job episode being the one to introduce Aziraphale to worldly pleasures instead of him discovering them on his own. But that is sometimes what happens when you learn more about characters from new canon, sometimes it doesn't fit your established headcanon. You either roll with it or you choose to ignore that part of canon.
But I do think she is on the right track. And the most important thing that ariaste pointed out is still the missing/unsatisfying payoffs and the unfired Chekov's Guns, which I am pretty sure is the very reason this season felt so "off" for most of us and why ariastes theory found so much resonance. But I wouldn't call that Bad Writing. I would call that at most Weird Writing Choices. Especially if
you view the whole of season 2, the bridge season, the quiet gentle and romantic interlude, as one. giant. setup.
Having Aziraphale use his never-before-mentioned halo as a deus-ex-machina option to defeat the demons in his bookshop is a weird writing choice. Especially when we know we have a literal Chekov's - Derringer - Gun hidden somewhere in there, which is not being used. Mentioning the Book of Life several times and have it be of no consequence, Crowley even doubting that it really exists, is another unfired gun. The Nazi-Zombies, which are somehow left to their own devices and never mentioned again, could be a Chekhov's Gun - and I feel a lot better knowing now that yes, the living dead are apparently part (a sign?) of The Second Coming.
But it isn't bad writing. It is setting up season 3. It has always been about setting up season 3. We got a nice, little, quiet gentle and romantic, fan-fictionesque Ineffable Bureaucracy main plot to go with it, but that was never the raison d'etre for season 2. It's main purpose was always to set. up. season. three.
After all, most paraphrasings of "Chekov's Gun" speak of acts. If a gun is shown in act 1, it has to be fired in act 2. If a gun is shown in one act, it has to be fired the following. If we look at Good Omens as a 3-act-story, with one season being one act, then all the Chekov's Guns were shown to us in act 2, and are not required to go off until act 3 - meaning season 3.
All of you who dismiss this and go "no one ever wrote bad on purpose just to fix it in the next season, why not accept this season was just bad" are missing the point, because you fixate on the "bad writing on purpose" misnomer. It's not bad writing. It's delayed gratification. It's setting up a payoff over more than one season. Which you can absolutely do if you have a plan, if you know where your story is going. It is what everyone still seems to expect from J.J. Abrams, even though we should know better by now. His setups never pay off, because he sets up things he never intends to resolve, never even has an idea about how they could be resolved, and keeps getting away with it. And yet, the overwhelming presence of his shitty writing in media has probably screwed with our expectations from mystery shows, which thanks to him are not very high. But I truly believe that Neil Gaiman (and John Finnemore, a frickin' COMEDY writer, for whom the setup-payoff concept must actually be like breathing) are both simply better than that windbag. There will be a payoff. Only later.
I believe we will come back to the halo. Aziraphale's Derringer Gun will be fired. The Book of Life will have meaning, even if it is different from what we might theorize. The Zombies will at least be mentioned. And I think even the weirdly framed and then forgotten Eccles cakes will make another appearance. We will have an actual, big-stakes gen plot next season. Aziraphale & Crowley will be stopping another apocalypse. It will have to do with Crowley's "all of us against all of them" line from season 1. It will have Anathema & Newt (I remember one Tumblr ask before season 2 where Neil was asked if they would come back for season 2, and he answered no, but they would hopefully be in season 3), and I personally think they're gonna regret burning that second book from Agnes. Crowley & Aziraphale will not have much time to talk about their relationship or to feel sorry for themselves, as a lot of fans seem to expect. This will not be fan-service, this will not be fan-fictionesque. The bigger picture is the second apocalypse and once again saving humanity, and saving earth. Doing that, Crowley & Aziraphale will find common ground again, they will find each other again. They will end up in their shared cottage in the South Downs, openly in love, and everything will be ok. I don't know exactly how, and I don't want to speculate too much, because that almost always ends up with me being disappointed by how canon actually turns out.
But I believe in Neil Gaiman. I believe he cares. I believe he might even care more about "Good Omens" than about any other of his creations. And I believe in the Brilliance of John Finnemore. I don't believe that he would have let Neil get away with these setups without real payoffs if he didn't see the point of them.
(And if Amazon and their greedy CEO/shareholders are the reason we won't get a third season, you'll hear about me in the news, I swear. 😡)
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2-dsimp · 1 month
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Yandere spin-offs (wip)
Introducing the Hero
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(Fem! Reader)
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Synopsis: Featuring the Yandere Hero who happened to coincidentally save you from a potential robbery and became infatuated with you once he discovered that you knew of his true nature.
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Adonis was a hero known by the public as the chivalrous Sunset Knight who protected the people and also kept the evildoers in line with his immense power. But that couldn’t be any further from the truth, as the Sunset Knight was nothing but a sadistic murderer pretending to be an enforcer of justice.
He would frequently use excessive amounts of force when apprehending criminals no matter if the crime being committed was petty or severe all his victims would equally suffer underneath the brutality of his hands that always itches to inflict pain. Almost like a coping mechanism to keep his innermost darkest desires for destruction at bay.
One day when Adonis was off duty in his civilian persona dressed casual with his platinum blonde wavy hair that was covering his eyes. As he happened to walk by and witness a woman getting assaulted by some ruffians looking for a quick buck. He was tempted to ignore the situation entirely as it didn’t concern him one bit. But who was he to turn down a chance to let off some steam by beating some stupid idiots half to death without any consequences since it’ll fall under the category of self defense.
Trying to conceal the bloodlust leaking from his pores he made an effort to appear like the usual outstanding smararian who risked his safety to protect a typical damsel in distress. Before administering some good hands on “disciplinary action” on the poor unfortunate souls who happened to try and mug you.
Suddenly the sound of a picture being taken made him snap out of his tunnel vision haze in a brief moment of shock. And his golden slited pupils roamed the area spotting you with a camera that was pointed at him while he was covered in splotches of the dirty blood of the offenders. But before he could say a single word he saw you vanish like a thief in the night.
This was the first time that Adonis was genuinely at a lost of what to do. Sure he could’ve killed her but that would’ve been too suspicious should a certain detective happen to connect the dots.
Even though he had been spotted indulging in his destructive impluses he was in his civilian persona. So he pondered what exactly that woman was trying to accomplish by taking a picture of a mere stranger who had happened to step in for her when she was in danger.
Until it clicked within his head that somehow she knew who he really was. As her movements were too fluid to be recognized as an mere amateur taking pictures for shits and giggles. Which must mean that the woman he saved had been keeping an eye on his actions for a long period of time.
‘She knows…’
He thought to himself his bloodied hands covering the bottom half of his face in surprise and a certain degree of respect for the boldness this woman he encountered seemed to possess.
‘She knows how I really am and yet she still chooses to stick close to me?’
He couldn’t help but let out a full blown fit of mad laughter at his discovery.
“What a farce haha! I can’t tell if she’s stupid or just doesn’t have a shred of self preservation”
He cackled, before taking a moment to calm his mind wiping off the flecks off blood of his handsome face with their arm sleeve the hero made himself look presentable.
The hero was determined to have fun with his new recent obsession…You
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The Sunset Knight was patrolling the streets wearing his signature knight helmet while the rest of his body was adorned in flexible loose clothing. Leaping from roof to roof he happens to spot a supervillain mutant terrorizing the citizens demanding them to give him back his brethren or else he’d kill them all.
A pretty bland demand as per usual done by petty villains so without breaking a sweat Adonis drop kicked the octopus mutant who was holding multiple hostages within their tentacles one of which happened to be a certain woman that he had been actively searching for ever since their first encounter.
He couldn’t believe his luck as he disregarded all the other hostages that would’ve all probably fell to their potential deaths if not thanks to the minor heros who appeared on the scene right after he knocked out the criminal as the only one he cared about was you.
The Hero swiftly caught you within his arms and couldn’t help the deranged grin that spreader across his face as he finally had the object of his curiosity trapped wriggling defiantly against him in his arms. Which indicated that his hunches were correct, licking his lips like a predator as he looked down at you from behind his helmet.
He couldn’t help but get excited.
Oh how he couldn’t wait to get you home.
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writersblockedx · 1 year
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What we choose to Forget
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Pairing - College!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader Summary - Peter keeps the life that everyone forgot he lived in a shoe box; photos, relics, even his old Spider-Man suit. It isn't until his girlfriend finds said box that the problems arise. Warnings - Mentions of alcohol, violence, angst, cliffhanger Words - 2K
A/n - Let me know if you’d like a part two!
Masterlist
Peter should have known that keeping that shoebox of memories was a bad idea. But he had never thrown it out, instead, it was shoved under his bed, ever reminding him of the life he no longer lived.
And now, he found the box facing him. Though it wasn't under his bed, it wasn't where it was meant to be. Right now, it was in the palms of his girlfriend. His girlfriend who was utterly oblivious to the superhero alter-ego Peter possessed - as well as what such had taken away from him: aunty, mentor and father figure, best friends. The list went on. So when she discovered this box she found its contents puzzling.
"Y/n?" Peter called, a cautious expression written in his eyes as he stood in the doorway. His body was usually engulfed by this point, breathing in the warmth that his girlfriend radiated. Instead, she stood only meters from him, the box in her grip and an emotion on her face Peter could only describe as betrayal. "That's not-" It was though, Peter realised. It was what she was likely thinking.
"I mean first this," Y/n pulled out his old spiderman mask and grimaced. "But that's not even the start of it." Next, came the polaroids. The one which she chose to pick out was the one of him and MJ in Venice. "I mean we've gone to lengths talking about past relationships and you didn't think about mentioning this one?" His lips were to MJ's forehead, a grin plastered at her lips like she couldn't have been happier.
The boy took a step forward, quickly dropping his keys and bag to the floor as to free his hands. They reached for the box, brushing against Y/n's fingers. Such had made her skin jolt. She stepped away, the box still perfectly aligned in her grip. "No," Her tone so stern it had made Peter shiver. "Either you give a straight answer now, or-" A pause followed. There was a crack in her tone as if the words were truly getting caught in her throat. "I'm leaving. And Peter, I'm not coming back."
The severity of the situation clouded him. As much as he was pulled to explain this, come clean, it was a story of which would be unbelievable. But the alternative, not telling her, was so much worse. "It's a long story."
He had barely been able to finish his breath before she had snapped back, "Then tell it."
"Y/n," His voice suddenly fell with a heavy emotion, one of which knew he was about to accept the consequences. "I can't." Now his voice cracked too. "It's difficult, complicated."
"It's not." She had no idea and Peter couldn't even express such. "You lied to me Peter and I can't even work out why and you won't tell me." Suddenly, her voice wasn't cracking, it was snapping, dripping in a rising fury that Peter couldn't argue against.
So, instead, he found himself sheepish, concerned that within a moment's notice, he had just lost someone he so deeply adored. "You just got to trust me on this, Y/n, plea-"
Her head shook, "No." It cut through the air as if it had just cut Peter's vocal cords in two. "If you can't explain this, then I am leaving." And like that, she shoved the shoe box of memories into his chest.
Peter couldn't move. Even when she walked passed him. Even when every bone in his body begged to call out to her, apologise and never stop, he didn't move. Even when he heard the door shut. It was like he couldn't do anything.
Maybe he was plagued with the thoughts of the past. The thought of mixing Spider-man and Peter Parker seemed dangerous, like it wasn't the smart idea anymore. It got people hurt. And it had gotten Peter himself into the situation he was in now. And while it wasn't all bad, while he had met people like Y/n, he wasn't willing to risk that for a second time.
The next week Peter felt followed by a shadow. Peter had met Y/n in the labs at college. He was oblivious; she was far too smart for him. And when he found himself struggling to use a piece of machinery, she had swooped in. "Do you want some help with that?" She had questioned, a brightness in her pupils which had drawn the boy in effortlessly.
He had almost been too caught off guard with the pretty girl he was faced with to reply. "Oh, erm," He glanced back to the machine, "Doesn't seem to be getting on with me." He said, cursing himself for not saying something more smooth or witty.
But she hadn't seemed to care. Instead, she slipped in front of him, her hands brushing along the side of the machine like it were second nature. When she came to realise why it wasn't working for Peter, she let out a giggle. "What?" The boy had asked, a sudden sense of panic in his tone.
She glanced over at him, a smile hanging at her lips, "You've not turned it on." Peter had never flushed such a deep red. This pretty, obviously smart girl, was helping him and he had just made himself out to be such an idiot. In that moment, no chance, he had thought to himself. But then: "If you want, I can help show you how it all works?" She offered.
Peter took the offer. And the two started meeting between classes, Y/n talking through the machinery. After a week or so, they met at coffee shops too. This time, they weren't talking about the labs, but instead, going over essay assignments, going back and forth. Then, sometimes, they would get bored of the work they were drowning in and conversation would turn. While Peter didn't technically have a past to talk about anymore, he loved to listen to hers, enticed and captured by every story which fell from her lips.
It took Peter a long time (and God knows Y/n was waiting for it), but he finally clustered the courage to ask her out.
And now, her presence was a shadow, an echo. It wasn't next to him like a brightness which would follow him through the day, show up when his classes finished or rock up to his shitty apartment with coffee and a muffin. It was as if he looked away and now, as he turned back, everything light had been snatched from him.
Peter thought on it and thought on it hard. He spent much more nights on the street dressed in that blue and red suit, willing for a solution to come to mind. And then, one night, the universe seemed to offer him something; her voice. He had patrolling all night by this point as it started to reach the early hours of the morning. He had been so close to leaving when his ear caught sound of that tone, that giggle, the one he craved like an addict.
"I know!" Her voice boomed through the quiet street, blurred in with the drumming music from the clubs and bars they were walking between. But Peter had heard it loud and clear. "I can't do that though."
Spider-man was perched on a roof of a building, watching down at his ex-girlfriend and her two friends which seemed attached to her, clinging on as they drunkenly wandered down the streets. "So you're just gonna go on? Pretend nothing happened?" One of her friends questioned.
"I mean, I don't know." Y/n answered with a shrug. "I just can't get that image out of my head."
"What the superhero mask?" Inquired the second friend with a chuckle like Peter were a child; if only she knew what that mask had truly meant for Peter.
"No, no, not that." Maybe he shouldn't be listening to this, the boy thought. "The photos. The relics. It's like he had a whole other life he never told me about." She explained and the boy felt his gut twist with guilt. "He wouldn't give me an answer when I ask so..."
One of the friends nodded, "That's why you're not gonna speak to him again?" That thought of never hearing her voice again seemed to slowly dawn on Peter and suddenly, he was regretting his actions. And when he noted the way her head nodded, he was clouded in anxiety.
The three girls slowed as they came to the end of the street. "Are you gonna be okay walking back alone?" Said a friend as the two wandered up to the front door of the house
Y/n hugged her stomach, appreciating the short-term warmth it provided her. "I'll be fine, don't worry." She assured.
And after hugs and goodbyes, the two drunk girls slipped into their house, leaving Y/n as she headed the opposite way. Peter probably should have headed home too. But instead, like he was on auto-pilot, he started following her from the rooftops. He was lucky he did too. Had he not, Y/n might have ended up losing her purse - and worse, possibly her life.
Peter hadn't been paying much attention. His mind was somewhere else as he followed the girl, already having had the directions to her house memorised. But when he looked back to the ground, there was a second figure next to her. Peter only needed a glance to know the interaction was not a friendly one. The second the criminal pulled a knife out, Peter was swinging from the roof, his webs shooting against it until his feet hit the floor with a thud.
It didn't take much for him to remove the blade from the criminal's hand. All while Y/n took a steady step back, watching as it all happened in a blur. Peter had no care for them as they took off, rushing from what could have ended in handcuffs and cop cars. For Peter, this wasn't a situation where he was meant to chase after the criminal. Instead, this was a situation where he was better to care for the victim, his girlfriend. Well, ex-girlfriend.
Her breath was uneven, clutching her bag to her chest like it was giving her life. "Thank you." She uttered out in a breath, her brain not able to compute why the hero in front of her seemed all so familiar.
"Yeah, yeah." He had muttered, turning to face the girl. A pause followed and it seemed, just by looking at her and finding that brightness in her eyes again, Peter lost all logic. His hand reached for his mask and within one swoop, it was torn from his features.
And like that he was vulnerable. Everything from before came crashing back. The other two Peters, losing MJ and Ned, the feeling of his aunt slowly slipping into the afterlife. Without his mask, that's what he was vulnerable to. He didn't know what to expect and he didn't know if he had just made the decision he was going to regret forever.
All that came from her lips in a jumble of fear and confusion was, "Peter?" Said like it was the first time.
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usetheeauthor · 1 year
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I Still Get Jealous (MDNI +18)
• Possessive!Boyfriend!Arisu Ryohei x Sub!Reader
Summary: Arisu doesn’t like the idea of you spending time with mentor and friend, Chishiya, who’s assisting you on your PhD dissertation. He develops a possessive attitude which prompts you to prove your loyalty to him.
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A/N: Thank you again, @amortentiaz for the request! I’m so glad Arisu’s getting some love! This is a spicy one with a fluffy, happy ending. Hope you all enjoy!
Word Count: 3.2k+
Warnings: jealous!Arisu, angst, fluff, smut, sub/dom dynamics, daddy kink, graphic language, slight!tipsy/drunk Arisu, traffic light bdsm system, spanking, hair pulling, biting, markings/hickies, finger sucking, light degradation kink, brief nipple play, creampie, breeding kink, dacryphilia, orgasm denial/delay, p in v (unprotected), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, sex positions (full nelson, doggystyle, reverse cowgirl), lots of pet names (sugar, prince, baby and so on), fluffy aftercare/happy ending
They say there is no greater glory than love, nor any greater punishment than jealousy. Arisu’s love for you results in the consequence that he loathes seeing you with any other man aside from him.
It’s not like he’s unreasonable. He’s fine if you have guys friends…just not guys like Chishiya. It just wasn’t a fair fight. Chishiya’s really smart, a doctor, AND—the kicker— he was handsome.
And, sure, Arisu felt as if he had ‘2 out of 3’ of those things listed but what he felt really set himself apart from Chishiya was how cool Chishiya was. He didn’t have to try. Women and even men are naturally drawn to him just based on first impressions alone. Meanwhile, Arisu was an unsociable loser who would rather play video games for hours on end than strike up a conversation with a stranger.
Why did you have to choose Chishiya of all people to help you with your dissertation? And now you’re in a residency program working in close quarters with him, too?!
Arisu could see it now. He paces back and forth in the apartment the two of you shared creating hypothetical scenarios.
What if….One day, you and Chishiya are working in a room together when the two of you ‘accidentally’ touch hands. Next thing you know, the two of you are making out and ripping each other’s clothes off in a room meant for a patient needing heart surgery!
He shakes off that silly imagination. No! You wouldn’t possibly do something like that to him. You love him. You wouldn’t just cheat on him but what if….you broke up with him instead?! That way you wouldn’t feel guilty for being with Chishiya instead.
Arisu bangs his head against the island table in the kitchen when he decides to call his friends over for some drinks and very much needed advice.
“You should just tell her how you feel,” Chota begins. “You’d be surprised to recognize what you discover about yourself when you speak about your feelings with her. Shibuki and I are going strong because she taught me how to be more open.”
“No offense, Chota, but that’s pussy advice,” Karube remarks. “Whenever my girl does something I don’t like, I lay down the law. I put my foot down,” He slams his beer on the table for dramatic effect. “Works every time.”
“Is that so? Because last time I checked, she made you cry that one time she threatened to leave you. Didn’t see any laws being laid down.” Chota chuckles.
“Up yours, man.” Karube bites.
“You guys aren’t helping me feel any better,” Arisu groans. “The girl of my dreams is slipping away as we speak. For all we know, Chishiya’s already asking for her hand in marriage.”
“You could always try rebounding if she does dump you. What about Usagi?”
“No way! She’s only a friend. Y/n’s all I ever wanted. I’ve imagined my future and she’s always in it. I won’t let her go.” Arisu says, determinedly.
Chota pats his back. “Then you’ve gotta fight for that future, brother.”
Arisu nods, a lot more confident in his decision. With another shot of hard liquor, he plans out exactly how he’ll approach the situation with you soon as you step through the door.
—————
You turn the key in the door of your apartment and the first thing you’re met with is empty bottles of liquor. Arisu is sprawled out on the couch, asleep.
You smile, shaking your head, knowing that he probably was hanging out with his best friends. Removing your heels, you tiptoe over to him. Crouching down on your knees beside him, you place kisses all over his face until his eyes flutter open.
You soothe his hair, whispering a greeting. “Hello, my sleeping prince.”
Instead of being met with a smile, you were given a blank expression. “Hey.” He says, dryly, speech slurred.
“I’m sorry? Did I do something wrong?”
He sits up. “Where have you been? It’s late.”
“It’s 6:00 noon,” You giggle. “And you know I’m getting some help from Chishiya with my paper. It’s like 300 pages. I’m dying.”
“Chishiya, Chishiya. Seems like he’s all you ever talk about now,” Arisu chides. “Does he even know we’re together?”
“Where is this coming from, love?” You say, rubbing his arms with your soft, patient hands.
“You’re mine! Okay? You belong to me. We’re supposed to be happy and in love. I know I’m not this lady killer like Chishiya but I know that I can love you better.”
“Ryohei…baby,” You say, shaking your head in disappointment. “I am yours. You don’t have to compare yourself in any way to Chishiya. I don’t see him at all in the way I see you. You tilt my world off its axis whenever I’m near you. Even after two years together, I still get butterflies.”
“So you won’t leave me for him?”
“Never! You’re my sweet prince,” Still on your knees before him, you pry his legs apart to place yourself in between them. Leaning over his clothed cock, you lick a long stripe on the crotch area of his pants. “I love and serve you and you alone.”
He strokes your hair. “I wanna mark all over your body. That way when he sees them, he’ll know I’m the one responsible.”
“Please do, my prince.” You moan out.
He leans forward, capturing your lips and slips his tongue down your throat. Your fingers entangle in his dark locs, tugging him down to you when you felt like he was trying to pull away.
His hand collects your hair in a ponytail, pulling your lips away from his. “You don’t think I’ll let you off that easily, do you? I’ve been planning a punishment for you.”
“But I’ve been good.” You pout.
“Don’t pretend like you weren’t liking the attention from him? Like you weren’t trying to make me jealous,” He yanks at your hair again causing you to whine. “You like when I get like this, don’t you?”
You whine out again, squeezing your thighs together to suppress the throbbing between them.
He yanks your hair once more, growling. “I asked you a question.”
“Y-yes, I fucking love it when you punish me. Please fuck me.” You sounded absolutely wrecked and he hadn’t even begun yet.
“It’s gonna take a lot more begging than that to get what you want, sugar,” He lets go of your hair, patting his thighs. “Lay yourself across my thigh.”
You comply, lifting off your feet to crawl into his lap. Your plump ass perched up high enough for his hands to indulge.
“You remember your colors in case we need to stop, do you?” He asks while kneading your plush globes in his hands, marveling at its perfection.
You nod. “Green is a ‘yes’, yellow for ‘slow down’, and red is ‘stop’.”
“Good girl.” He purrs. Then, he pulls your panties to the side just enough to dip his longest finger into your sopping pussy.
You moan, clutching the couch cushion. “Fuck! That’s so good.”
“I don’t want to hear you.” He pulls out the glistening finger, shoving it into your mouth for you to suck on. With his other free hand, he slips two longer fingers into your core and pumps away.
You swirl your tongue around his finger, tasting yourself on it. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as his fingers deliciously flicked against a soft trigger within you. Your muffled moans get louder.
“You’re so loud. Quiet!” Pulling the finger from your mouth, he slaps the hand over your mouth. It’s clamped tight enough to assure your sounds aren’t heard. Of course, the action would also affect your breathing but somehow the lack of oxygen heightened pleasure to the point of euphoria.
You could hear your wet pussy squelch around his fingers, juices trickling down your inner thighs, onto the couch, and his khaki pants.
His erection pokes against your belly and, with you fucking back against his fingers, it begins to increase in its size. He licks his lips, lust splayed on his features while he watches you rut desperately against his fingers.
“You look like you want to cum, sugar?” He asks, mockingly.
You nod frantically, bouncing back against his fingers with rigorous intent. He’d long removed his hand from your mouth, you could’ve spoken up but with his skillful fingers buried so deep into you that was too much a challenge.
“That’s it, love. Use my fingers to get yourself off. So pathetic and desperate for it. Bet, you’re wishing it was my cock instead.”
His fingers do the famous ‘come hither’ motion within you and your legs begin to shake. You were on the edge, a stream of drool pouring from your tongue as you pant out like a dog. Your eyes cross and just as you’re within reach of the big one, he slips out of you.
You sob and scream your frustrations into the couch cushion, biting down on the fabric to keep from hurting yourself or him.
He sucks your arousal off his fingers, looking at you from the corner of his eyes while you glare at him. When he finishes them clean off, he smirks at you. “Sorry. But that was punishment #1.”
“#1? As in…there’s more?” Your voice trembling in fear.
“Uh-huh. And we’re going straight into your next punishment,” He strikes your asscheeks hard enough for you to feel it ripple. You hiss at the sting. “You’ve got 4 more of that to go, sugar. Count for me, please.”
Smack after smack, you’d count and your hungry cunt would throb in need in anticipation of his assault. You needed to be fucked badly. You’ll remain obedient. Anything to get him to finally give in.
He lands the final smack, the hardest of bunch. Your ass is as red as he hoped for. He soothes it, massaging each globe carefully.
“For your last punishment, I want you to suck me off. If you’re good for it, I’ll make you cum on my cock right after.”
You love how filthy Arisu’s mouth gets whenever he’s in the act with you. It’s a complete parallel to his usual shy and reserved demeanor. You slide off his lap enough so that you’re laying on your stomach over the couch seat, your hands in his lap. You fondled with the buckle of his belt then his zipper.
With your hand down his pants, you carefully pull him free. The thick two-toned length was hard to wrap your whole hand around the base. You flick a tongue against the pink head, collecting the salty precum on your tongue.
He moans, moving your hair out of the way so he can watch you take himself in your eager mouth. You lower your mouth over him, swallowing around him while he hits the back of your throat. Whatever your mouth couldn’t get to, your free hand would make up for it.
His head is thrown back against the couch overhead, enjoying the warmth of your mouth. You slurp up the excess saliva from his cock, spitting it back onto the base again and jerking him off.
“Ohh, babygirl,” Arisu groans. “Your mouth feels like heaven. I almost feel bad for the bastard never getting the chance to have you.”
You moan, sending the vibrations straight to his cock. You could suck his dick all day and never get tired. You’ve actually done that before while he played his video games.
“Shiiit! I’m gonna cum down your little throat.” He whines, thrusting forcefully with his hand cupping the back of your head. Then, he stills, cock rested deep enough to cut off your air supply as his warm essence shoots down your throat. You play with his heavy balls in the process, prolonging his orgasm.
“Fuckk yess.” He groans, feeling the way the muscles in your throat flex around him, swallowing every drop.
When you remove your mouth from his twitching member, he immediately places his lips on yours not caring to taste himself on your tongue as he sucked at it. You straddle him and sit directly over his stirring cock, drenched clothed core rubbing against the hardness.
He stands on his feet and carries you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. It surprises you every day the strength he possesses in such a slender body.
“We’re taking this to the bedroom so I can fuck what’s mine properly.” He says.
“Please, daddy.” You plead, head rolling back when he sucks at your neck as he leads you to the bedroom.
He throws you onto the mattress. “Take those clothes off. Then, stay on your hands and knees.”
You follow his orders, pulling off your clothes so fast you nearly tore at them in impatience. You are on your hands and knees, back facing away from the headboard.
His clothes are off and you’re given a moment to admire his physique. He does the same, circling around you as if to decide what else he planned on doing to you.
Arisu disappears from your vision and you feel the mattress dip behind you. You feel the back of his knees resting against your calves, prompting you to glance over your shoulder. Arisu was laid on his back, your ass just inches from his jutting hard cock.
“I want you to fuck back into me like this. Show me how badly you want me.” He said it in a way that he’d hoped to sound authoritative but instead it came out sounding like a whine. He couldn’t help his desperation for you, especially when you were this dripping wet for him.
Shimmying back so that your glistening pussy rested over his cock, you rubbed yourself back and forth on it. You reach a hand down beneath you, grabbing his cock to tease your entrance before you let it slip in.
The two of you groan simultaneously at the feeling of you stretching around him. “Oh, fuck! Ryohei…daddy please.”
“Go on,” He smacks your ass. “Ride me.”
You mewl, taking him in all the way so that your ass rests on his pelvic area. You start off rocking slowly against him. You can hear the familiar squish of his cock penetrating you deeper and deeper with each in and out.
Gripping the sheets beneath you, you use the leverage to slam down harder against him. He lets out a strangled cry that cuts abruptly and you look over your shoulder to see that he’s biting his lips.
“Please let me hear you, daddy. I want to know that I’m doing good for you.” You moan, sounding already so fucked out.
“You’re doing amazing, sugar. Love seeing your ass from this view. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He praises.
“Only yours.” You added, going fucking back into his even harder and the sounds of your plump ass colliding into him is thunderous.
“Shit, I can’t take it anymore.” He says. You barely register what he said until he sits up and brings your back to his chest, ass in his lap in reverse cowgirl.
Arisu takes your ankles in his hands, spreading your legs wide open. He plants both his feet against the mattress, jackhammering into your greedy wet hole.
“Oh, god!” You squeak, bringing your hand back to cup the back of his neck.
He takes this as a sign to litter your neck with hickies and you scream and writhe against him. He was too good. Expert level as if it were an actual game and the objective was to make you dumb on his cock.
Letting one ankle go, he tweaks a hardened nipple between his fingers as he fucks up into you. You begin to feel the familiar pressure build within you again and he senses this with how hard you clenched around him.
He drops his hand down between your legs rubbing your sensitive nub back and forth. “You’re getting so tight,” He whispers in your ear, teasingly. “You gonna cum?”
You felt a sense of panic rush through you. The mocking tone in his voice can’t be good. Was he really thinking of pulling away again? You began to cry real tears, nodding your head. “I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum, daddy. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’ll be yours forever. Don’t punish me!”
“Aww, sugar, I wasn’t going to take this away from you,” He pounds harder and rubs tight circles on your clit. “You… deserve it.”
Arisu punctuates the end of the sentence with two hard thrusts that hit against your g-spot. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes widening as you squirt your juices all over.
This surprises him as well, a guttural groan escaping his lips. He throws you onto your stomach and pummels away from above you. “Gonna fill up your tight little pussy. I’m gonna get you pregnant and full so everyone knows I did that to you.”
You both knew you were on birth control because neither of you could afford to have a child at the moment. Nonetheless, you begged him to fill you with his seed and scream out to the top of your lungs how you’ll carry his babies.
A few dizzying thrusts has you biting into the sheets and without you even expecting it, you cum for the second time that night. Arisu cums a split second after you, moaning shakily as if he’s on the verge of sobbing. He trembles from above you, jerky thrusts into your core to give you all of his cum. He stills then collapses, weight on top of you and cock still buried deep as you shook against each other.
“Ryohei?” You pant softly.
“Mhm.” He says, unable to form a sentence.
“How are you this good?” You giggle in a euphoric state.
“I’d say it’s the liquid courage. I am still a little tipsy.” He admits with a chuckle.
“No, baby…that was all you. I fucking love you.”
“I love you more.” He retorts, breathlessly.
“Not as much as me.”
“Not possible,” He laughs, kissing your shoulder before pulling off and out of you. You whine at the loss, feeling cold without his warmth. You try reaching for him. “I’ll be back, love. Just gotta get a washcloth to clean you up…and some fresh sheets.” He says looking down at the wet puddle.
Arisu returns with a washcloth and fresh sheets as promised. He carefully cleans the sticky mess between your legs, planting a kiss on your thigh when he’s complete. While he lays down the new sheet, you find one of his hoodies to dress yourself in taking in his scent around you.
Curling into his naked body as the big spoon, you littered kisses on his shoulders. Then, a realization hit you to address your feelings, too. “I get kind of jealous, too, ya know.”
“You do? He asks, dumbfounded, turning on his side to look you in your eyes
“Yeah. I mean, whenever I see you with any other girl like Usagi, Heiya, or Kuina…I feel so petty. They’re my friends, too, and I know they wouldn’t hurt me that way. But they’re all so beautiful and—“
He cuts you off, kissing you passionately. “I belong to you just as much as the other way around. Remember that. No one gets me like you.”
You rest your foreheads against one another, cradling each other’s hands. You stare into each other’s eyes and listen to the sound of the rainfall pitter-patter against your window in time with the beating of your hearts.
Arisu has his friends to thank for giving such great advice.
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ranna-alga · 5 months
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I think about this conversation between Ellie and Tommy in TLOU2 a lot, particularly this line, because what if it was Ellie that died instead of Joel?
(Disclaimer: this text will make absolutely zero sense probably since I put very little thought into it and there are likely some plot holes. You can choose to dislike it or not but this is all hypothetical so let me have my depressingly whimsical wonders here)
Imagine it this way: Joel's death scene pretty much plays out the same way as it does canonically, except that the roles are reversed: Joel is the one who is pinned down and forced to watch Ellie be brutally murdered in front of him. Perhaps, in whatever way, Abby's group discover that she's The Immune Girl™ that Joel killed almost the entire Saint Mary's hospital for - the reason why Abby's father was murdered. If she's here, and is still as close with Joel as Abby may assume, then he couldn't be that far (say that members of the group saw Joel and Ellie moving together for a while before taking separate directions for whatever reason or something). The plan was to originally kill Joel, but Abby can't help but think: why do they get to live a picture-perfect life with each other as father and daughter, when he was the one who robbed me and my actual father of that life and she was the reason my father was in that position in the first place? How can he commit the sin and live without consequence after? Knowing that Joel would be looking for Ellie, the attack on her would start and continue even when Joel finds her and is made to watch - a sort of 'you took away the thing I cared about the most in this world, so now I will do the same to you and make you feel the pain I felt' message to Joel from Abby.
This would have been the second time he watched his daughter die. The second time he lost the one thing he lived for. The second time he's failed - as a protector, as a survivor, as a father. He had only four years with her, two of which was lost due to her anger towards him for what he did at Salt Lake City. And only the night before her murder did she confide in him about possible forgiveness, only for that to be taken from him? For her to be taken from him? After everything he did for her to ensure her safety, even if it meant the cost of her trust in him. Every part of him that died alongside Sarah was brought back to life slowly but surely thanks to this girl who stole his heart in only one year after two decades of being an empty shell of violence and resentment towards the world and himself.
His biggest fear came true - losing Ellie, failing her too - and it happened right in front of his eyes, just like Sarah.
Remember when it was heavily implied that both Tommy and Joel had a very violent and vicious past during the early years of the apocalypse where they were their darkest selves? Joel would have likely reverted back to that in this scenario. Absolutely nobody in Seattle will be safe. That man would turn that militarised city into a fucking ghost town, no doubt about it.
As for Tommy... Would he have been the same? Would he also want vengeance for Ellie as much as Joel did? Or would the pain of having another niece die + watching his brother descend into bloodlust and resentment again be simply too much to bare? Could he tolerate losing his brother and not get him back this time ever again?
It took twenty years after Sarah's death to find solace in life thanks to Ellie. He can't wait another twenty for another one - he can never go back, never again. He failed to save the lives of those he cared for (Sarah, Tess, Sam/Henry) and he feared the same for Ellie. But at least they made it into Jackson, their new home, alive and safe. But now? What more does he have to live for? How much more stronger would his self-hatred become for failing again and again and again where he can no longer see the light Ellie brought to him?
Knowing now that the surgeon he killed was Abby's father, he probably thinks it was an error to kill him instead of just knocking him out so that this WLF ambush costing Ellie's life wouldn't happen. But one thing he's certain he doesn't regret? Dooming humanity of a cure, because taking both of his daughters away from him proved Joel's decision to save Ellie from the Fireflies: to him, humanity didn't deserve to be saved, not anymore.
TLDR; I may be aromantic asexual but I'm still a proud Joel Miller simp who loves the thought of Joel in the bloody Santa Barbara appearance Ellie had in the canon TLOU2. No shame.
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fearlessinger · 1 year
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i would love to know your thoughts about how Will, Austin and Kayla are Apollo’s foils!!
Heyyy I’m so sorry this took me so long but… in my defense… it ended up being very long? I’d been meaning to do a deep dive into Apollo’s relationship with his children for a while, and you gave me the perfect excuse. 
Starting from the obvious: Apollo’s children are mini mirrors of him. They clearly inherited a lot of his personality traits, both the good and the less good. Apollo’s ready to acknowledge the latter right off the bat, but it takes him until the very last book to admit that their kindness, their compassion, their willingness to stand up for the weak – for their disgraced father, to whom they remain inexplicably loyal even when he has nothing to offer them in return... they got that from him too. Will, Kayla and Austin reflect back to him his BEST qualities, finally allowing him to recognize and take ownership of them after an entire life of being made to feel like he had to suppress them. I’ve talked about this before so I won’t belabor the point here.
The other way in which Apollo and his children foil each other is perhaps more subtle but I think even more interesting: they have complementary arcs re: their relationship with their father.
Apollo begins the story having lost all faith in his father already. He doesn’t really believe in his father’s mercy, in his father’s compassion, in his father’s love anymore. He’s not surprised by his father’s cruelty, especially not when it’s directed at him. He’s under no illusion about who Zeus is, how he operates, what he’s motivated by. It takes him 4 books to call him abusive outright, but he’s been drawing comparisons between him and Nero since book 1. It’s in fact precisely the similarities between the two, between Nero’s treatment of Meg and Zeus’s treatment of Apollo himself, that first led Apollo to realize Meg is abused too. 
When Apollo discovers that he’s bleeding red, he immediately knows what has happened. He understands that he’s been sentenced to death. He tries to convince himself that this is just like his previous punishments, that if he does everything right he will be forgiven and taken back in, and, being the incredible liar that he is, he makes it almost sound believable. But he knows, deep down, that it’s all bullshit. 
I turned my face to the sky. ‘If you want to punish me, Father, be my guest, but have the courage to hurt me directly, not my mortal companion. BE A MAN!’
To my surprise, the skies remained silent. Lightning did not vaporize me.
And yet, it takes Apollo 4 books to finally say the word “abuse” in relation to his father. He keeps telling himself surely this is enough. Surely this is enough suffering to satisfy Father. He’ll take pity on me now. He can’t really want me killed. He’ll change his mind. 
He clings to that hope, to that fantasy, as a last ditch attempt at denying the truth and, most of all, the inevitable consequences of it. 
I suppose I could have raged at him and called him bad names. We were alone. He probably expected it. Given his awkward self-consciousness at the moment, he might even have let me get away with it unpunished.
But it would not have changed him. It would not have made anything different between us.
Apollo admires Percy and Jason for the fearlessness with which they stood up and spoke their mind to Zeus. But at the end of his trials, at the end of his character arc, Apollo chooses to bow his head and remain silent, because unlike Percy, unlike Jason, he knows, and finally accepts, that his father is a lost cause. Zeus won’t change. Zeus doesn’t want to change. He cannot be saved. 
Because that’s what this was all about. Apollo refusing to give up on Zeus no matter how much it hurt him, right up until the moment it would have literally killed him, because despite everything, still, Apollo couldn’t bring himself to believe that there is nothing he can do to redeem his father. It may not look like it at first glance, but a big part of Apollo’s journey in TOA is about accepting that this is yet another choice his father has taken from him.
So Apollo doesn’t rage at his father. He doesn’t call him out on his behavior. He finally accepts that there’s no point in it. In every way that matters, now, to him, his father is already dead.
Will, Kayla and Austin, on the other hand, start out with a… quite frankly astounding amount of faith in their father, all things considered. But just like there was a caveat to Apollo's lack of faith in Zeus, there's a caveat to the kids's faith in Apollo too. 
There’s no doubt in their hearts that he loves them. Apollo pays attention to them. Not nearly enough, of course, but enough that Will considers a prolonged period of silence on his father’s part not just weird, but outright alarming. Enough that the thing that they all consider irrefutable proof of his identity is him recognizing them and smiling at them. 
It’s a tragically low bar, but one that none of the other gods manage to clear. Apollo’s children feel acknowledged. They feel cherished. They feel at ease interacting with him. They know he won’t mind if they bombard him with questions. He won’t mind if they tease him. He won’t even mind if they yell at him. We see them do all these things within minutes to a day of his arrival at camp, seemingly completely unthinkingly. We see Will confess his insecurities to Apollo the moment Apollo asks. Heck, Will confesses to Apollo that he made a wrong call with the nectar and almost killed him completely unprompted, as soon as Apollo’s awake. It doesn’t seem to even cross his mind that Apollo might get mad at him for it.
Will, Kayla and Austin believe their father to be nice. They believe him to be safe. They believe he means well, not just with them, but in general. 
‘Jason is making that storm,’ Nico said. ‘If you fire the onager, you’ll kill him and Piper, and –’
‘Good!’ Octavian yelled. ‘They’re traitors! All traitors!’
‘Listen to me,’ Will tried again. ‘This is not what Apollo would want. Besides, your robes are –’
Will’s conviction that his father would NEVER agree to the slaughter of innocent demigods, not even if that’s the only way to defeat the gods’ greatest enemy, is so unshakeable he repeats it twice: once in front of the roman army, and once again as he tries to convince Octavian that even just a handful of lives is too high a price.
Damien reluctantly handed it over. I leaned toward the guitar case by Woodrow’s feet. The satyr leaped several inches into the air.
Austin laughed. “Relax, Woodrow. He’s just getting another string.”
There’s no way Austin doesn’t know the story of Marsyas from Will’s mythology books. In fact, his reaction here indicates that he does, because it’s only with that context in mind that Austin would find Woodrow’s reaction funny as opposed to confusing. But it doesn’t seem to quite click in Austin’s brain that the cruel god of the myth is his dad. Because Austin's dad would never hurt a fly. It’s simply laughable to think that anyone would have reason to be scared of him.
It’s worth noting that the rest of the CHB demigods don’t ever seem overly intimidated by Apollo either, which makes perfect sense considering how he presented himself to the world prior to his fall from grace. He used to act like a total clown. That's how the campers seem to think of him, and, to an extent, it's how his children think of him too. For all the faith they have in his character, they don't really seem to have a lot of faith in his ability to do… much of anything. 
‘We don’t know what’s going on at Delphi,’ Will continued. ‘My dad hasn’t answered any prayers, or appeared in any dreams … I mean, all the gods have been silent, but this isn’t like Apollo. Something’s wrong.’
Across the table, Jake Mason grunted. ‘Probably this Roman dirt-wipe who’s leading the attack – Octavian what’s-his-name. If I was Apollo and my descendant was acting that way, I’d go into hiding out of shame.’
‘I agree,’ Will said. ‘I wish I was a better archer… I wouldn’t mind shooting my Roman relative off his high horse. Actually, I wish I could use any of my father’s gifts to stop this war.’ He looked down at his own hands with distaste. ‘Unfortunately, I’m just a healer.’
The phrasing of this bit is a little ambiguous. Was Will agreeing to the suggestion that his father might be hiding out of shame rather than take action against his descendant? We can’t say for sure, but I’m inclined to think so.
Will believes his father cares about him and his siblings. He believes his father doesn’t want any deaths on his or the gods’ account. But he also seems to have absolutely no expectation that his father would intervene to prevent these deaths. He feels that it’s HIS responsibility to stop the war, to stop Octavian. Of course, his father would never wish hurt on any of his descendants. His father would never hurt a fly. He is kind. Silly. A bit of a clown. He visits them in dreams. He answers their prayers. He can't seem to ever be there for them when it would matter most. 
This is really the crux of the problem. Apollo’s children trust him. They don’t trust him to be able to protect them. 
But they don’t hold this against him. How could they? They know him. They know it’s not because Apollo doesn’t care. It has to be because he can’t. Literally can’t. Gods can’t meddle in mortal affairs. And… is it possible… that maybe… maybe Dad's power and overall competence is a bit overhyped in the stories? 
He sure can't seem to be able to put together a decent poem. 
Kayla squeezed my hand. Her archer ’s fingers were rough and calloused. “It’s okay, Apollo… Dad. We’ll help you.”
Austin nodded. “Kayla’s right. We’re in this together. If anybody gives you trouble, Kayla will shoot them. Then I’ll curse them so bad they’ll be speaking in rhyming couplets for weeks.” 
Kayla and Austin are such kids at the beginning of THO: self centered, blunt to the point of rudeness, shamelessly thrilled to learn everything about this crazy thing that just happened to their dad. It’s heartening to see. But as soon as they realize that Apollo is actually struggling, THEY are the ones who rush to reassure him, earnestly promising that everything will be alright, that they will support and defend him. 
Like Apollo, who appointed himself his mother's protector mere days after being born, tasked himself with slaying the monster that had been tormenting her, felt an obligation to cut down whoever would dare badmouth her, his children too feel a responsibility to be his protectors, to defend his honor. Like him, who only ever thinks about his mother in terms of what he can do for her, who has no delusions that she could be his salvation in time of need, his children too are far more preoccupied with helping him than they are with anything that they think they might get from him in return.
It's the last thing Apollo would have wanted for them. He was so relieved to hear them worry about the Olympics and youtube views, and then utterly ashamed to realize that they care about him more. As much as he admires his mother, Apollo did not intentionally model himself after her in this respect. 
But just like Leto, Apollo doesn't really have a choice. Or, well. Perhaps that’s not quite true. He might have one, but it's one he is not willing to consider. Not until the end of this story at least, not until he finally, definitively accepts that his father will never change, that his father cannot be saved.
“A father should give more to his children than he takes,” Apollo thinks in despair, looking at his children who are ready to give and give and give to him, even as he's left with nothing to repay them with, but in truth he is only reaping what he sowed. His kids only know of him what he’s let them see.
“That was so beautiful!” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “What was that song?”
I blinked. “It’s called tuning.”
“Yeah, Valentina, control yourself,” Damien chided, though his eyes were red. “It wasn’t that beautiful.”
“No.” Chiara sniffled. “It wasn’t.”
Only Austin seemed unaffected. His eyes shone with what looked like pride, though I didn’t understand why he would feel that way.
Was this the first time Austin actually heard his father play music without intentionally flubbing it? Based on what we saw of Apollo in the books preceding this one, I’d wager yes. But Apollo is taken aback by his son’s reaction. He doesn’t seem to have realized yet how deep an impact his habitual routine of feigning ineptitude actually had on his kids. 
He’s not really making any effort to correct their assumptions either. He never protests when his children explain to him stuff that he already knows. He doesn’t offer advice when Kayla and Austin debate the best way to patch Connor’s injuries up, defers to Will’s judgment when doing infirmary work. 
Granted, the kids know what they are doing. They technically don’t need his help in these matters. It just doesn’t seem to occur to Apollo that they might appreciate it anyway. It also doesn’t seem like he’s given any consideration to the fact that his trust in their abilities can only be worth so much to them, when they are given no reason to think he knows enough to evaluate them. 
It must have felt so good for Asclepius to hear Apollo say “my son taught me this thing”. But that was a long time ago, and Asclepius knew his father in a way that Apollo’s children quite simply aren’t afforded in the present day. 
To make matters worse, he is genuinely horrifyingly far from at the top of his game at this point in time, and not handling it well at all. In a stunning display of immaturity, he makes a whole spectacle of his poor performance at the archery range. 
It’s no surprise then, that nobody listens to Apollo’s pleas to not attack Peaches, not even Kayla. In a combat situation, of course she trusts her own instincts more than her father’s. Neither she nor her brothers take Apollo's completely justified concerns about having a "death race" within the labyrinth seriously. They don’t listen to him when he insists that the game should be at least put on hold until the prophetic trees situation is under control. They don’t even ask him to help them with the infirmary, not until Will is left alone and absolutely needs the spare hands. 
As much as he tries to hide it, it’s clear that Will has very little faith in Apollo’s ability to rescue Kayla and Austin. And is it any wonder? How can Apollo save his children now that he’s a mortal, weaker than even the weakest demigod, when even as a powerful immortal that was beyond his power? 
Apollo couldn't save Lee, or Michael, or the rest of Will's unnamed siblings who died in the battle of Manhattan. He gave them gifts – weapons, to help them in the fight. He was not, he could not be there for them when the weapons ran out. 
Now, the only thing that’s changed is that Apollo doesn’t even have enough power left to protect himself. 
As soon as they were gone, Will gave me an apologetic smile. “They’re in shock. We all are. It’ll take some time to get used to…whatever this is.”
“You do not seem shocked,” I said.
Will laughed under his breath. “I’m terrified. But one thing you learn as head counselor: you have to keep it together for everyone else. Let’s get you on your feet.”
Of course Will is terrified. He easily admits this to Apollo, but then immediately changes topic, relieving him of the burden of having to reply. He knows Apollo has no reassurances to offer him at the moment. And he loves him. He doesn’t want to make this any harder for him than it already is. 
Will’s used to having to manage his own terror alone anyway. Keep it together for everyone else. He can be the rock for his father too. So he smiles, he stays calm, he gives all the support he can while pretending that he himself requires none. He commits to this course of action so thoroughly that Nico feels compelled to intercede, to try to communicate Will’s needs to Apollo in some way: 
Nico rested his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Apollo, we were worried. Will was especially.” [...]
“I’ll be fine.” I pulled on my jeans. “I have to save Meg.”
“Let us help you,” Nico said. “Tell us where she is and I can shadow-travel—” 
Nico's attempt is still pretty indirect. He’s trying to be considerate of Will’s feelings, respectful of Will’s choices. But the meaning of his words is obvious: Please, don’t do this to him. Will's not gonna be able to survive losing you too. 
Perhaps the most interesting facet of Will’s coping strategy of repressing, repressing, repressing is the following:
“Gee, thanks….”
I got the feeling that he almost said Dad but managed to stop himself. [...]
“Guys,” Will interrupted, “why don’t you run to the Big House and tell Chiron that our…our patient is conscious.
Kayla and Austin alternate between using Dad and Apollo with no discernable pattern, seemingly at random, which makes sense considering how young they are. It's likely that they've known their father – properly known him at least – for little more than a year at this point in time. They are familiar with him, but not so familiar that thinking of him as Dad is second nature to them.
But Will has known Apollo longer, and to him it is. He so clearly struggles to not call Apollo Dad. He catches himself right before saying it twice in their first scene together, despite the fact that Apollo looks nothing like himself, and nothing like someone who could plausibly be Will’s dad either. But Will recognizes him, even though he wishes he didn't, and the word is automatically on the tip of his tongue. It slips out of him anyway, seemingly without him noticing, at dinner that night, while he and his siblings argue against Apollo that the planned activities for the next day are a perfectly acceptable level of dangerous:
“It’s different now,” Austin told me. “Since Daedalus died…I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. Doesn’t feel so evil. Not quite as deadly.”
“Oh, that’s hugely reassuring. So of course you decided to do three-legged races through it.”
Will coughed. “The other thing, Dad…Nobody wants to disappoint Harley.”
It doesn’t happen again, though. Will makes sure of it. 
Maybe he thinks that as long as he does not say the word, there’s still a chance that this will turn out to be just a really weird nightmare. 
Maybe he fears that if he does say it, he’ll be tempted to lean on Apollo for support, and feels that he can’t afford to do that when Apollo is barely holding himself upright, and seemingly eager to throw what little health and safety he still has away like it’s worth nothing. 
Maybe he’s afraid of getting any more attached than he already is, now that Apollo could quite literally die on him at any moment. 
Maybe, even if he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, doesn’t want it to be true, a part of him is actually angry with his dad for putting him through all this, willingly or not. 
(And speaking of foiling, and of Apollo and his kids being mirrors of each other, I think it’s worth mentioning that Apollo, for his part, does the same thing in reverse. He refuses to call Will, Kayla and Austin “my children”, feeling undeserving of the title of father, until the moment Kayla and Austin are stolen from him. He only allows himself to acknowledge the connection when it will hurt him the most, but at the same time, also, when he is finally in a position to do something for them, as opposed to them offering to do things for him.) 
And then. 
Apollo doesn't die. And not only does he not die, he brings back with him Kayla and Austin and Meg and all of the missing campers safe and sound. 
Suddenly, everybody’s looking to him for guidance, taking directions from him, deferring to his leadership. 
“I think there’s a way,” I said. “But I’ll need your help.”
Austin balled his fists. “Anything you need. We’re ready to fight.” [...]
“Hey!” called Nico di Angelo. He and Will scrambled over the dunes, still dripping from their swim in the canoe lake.
“What’s the plan?” Will seemed calm, but I knew him well enough by now to tell that inside he was as charged as a bare electrical wire. [...]
“What’s the plan?” they ask him. And also “How do you know it will work? What if you fail?” They don’t feel the need to stop questioning him, but they trust his answers. They trust that as absurd as his idea to take down the colossus might sound, it’s their best shot. They win. They all live.
Of course, Apollo only gives us a terse summary of the aftermath of the battle. To tell us about how happy, how proud of him his children are, would completely ruin this nice self deprecation thing that he has going.
The next time we see Will, Kayla and Austin interact with their father, it’s 4 books and almost 6 months later, after Apollo has finally resolved that he must make the effort to respect other people’s choice to believe in him, even though he thinks himself unworthy:
‘Dad!’ Will shot to his feet. He ran down the steps and tackled me in a hug.
“Dad!” is the first word that we hear Will say. And it’s not a slip up this time. It’s all Dad, Dad, Dad the whole book. Will doesn’t call him “Apollo” once. 
This change in Will’s attitude is, in all likelihood, not just due to the events of THO. He, and Kayla and Austin too, must have heard accounts of what Apollo has done in between then and now, not only from Meg (who is at this point simultaneously Apollo’s biggest critic and his biggest hype machine. A powerful combination), but from Camp Jupiter and the Waystation too. And I’d bet that those accounts were nowhere near as dismissive of Apollo’s actions as Apollo’s own narration is. 
We see everything filtered through Apollo’s still very biased perspective, and we know how much he doubts and berates himself. We know that he’s more acutely aware of his mortality now than he’s ever been, and that he’s readying himself to make the final sacrifice. 
But Will is not scared anymore. Not like before. There’s no trace in him of the barely concealed terror that gripped him all through THO. He’s still just as eager to offer Apollo support, but now he seeks out his father’s support in turn. 
It only takes one word from Apollo for Will to immediately confide to him his worries about Nico, his hope that it will be good for Nico to have something else to focus on, if they can help Apollo accomplish this task. Helping Apollo is almost more an excuse to help Nico in Will’s mind at this point. He tells this to Apollo before he even tells his boyfriend. He looks to Apollo for support. Quite literally.
Nico seemed to realize, at the same time I did, that Will hadn’t shared all the lines of the prophecy with him.
‘William Andrew Solace,’ Nico said, ‘do you have something to confess?’
‘I was going to mention it.’ Will looked at me pleadingly, as if he couldn’t make himself say the lines.
‘The son of Hades, cavern-runners’ friend,’ I recited. 
This becomes a bit of a running gag, even: Will begging Apollo with his eyes to say the awkward thing in his place. It’s a stark contrast to his behavior at the beginning of THO, when he felt compelled to give Apollo an out whenever any sort of awkwardness manifested itself.
At one point this happens:
‘So what do we do about the rest of them?’ Will asked. ‘Dad, you sure you can’t …’ He gestured at our bovine audience. ‘I mean, you’ve got a god-level bow and two quivers of arrows at basically point-blank range.’
It’s the first time we see Will make an explicit, direct request of Apollo. A small one, sure, but I think the casualness of it, coupled with everything else, is indicative of how fast and comfortably Will’s settling into the habit of relying – actually relying on his dad.
He trusts his father’s judgment to the point that he doesn’t hesitate even for a second to give Apollo nectar when Apollo asks, despite the fact that his father is still technically mortal at the time, and drinking nectar should still technically kill him, as Will no doubt remembers, because the discovery caused him a fair amount of grief at the beginning of THO. 
In practice, their situation hasn’t changed that much overall since the first book. They are still facing impossible odds. Apollo isn’t any less prone to concussions, he’s not any less vulnerable or fallible than he was when they last parted ways. 
Yet, Will’s expectations of his father have changed on a fundamental level. Apollo doesn’t seem helpless to him anymore. Far from it. And his praise means more to Will, now, than Will can manage to express in words.
Nico smirked. ‘Friends, meet my glow-in-the-dark boyfriend.’
‘Could you not make a big deal about it?’ Will asked.
I was speechless. How could anyone not make a big deal about this? As far as demigod powers went, glowing in the dark was perhaps not as showy as skeleton-summoning or tomato-vine mastery, but it was still impressive. And, like Will’s skill at healing, it was gentle, useful and exactly what we needed in a pinch.
‘I’m so proud,’ I said.
Will’s face turned the colour of sunlight shining through a glass of cranberry juice. ‘Dad, I’m just glowing . I’m not graduating at the top of my class.’
‘I’ll be proud when you do that, too,’ I assured him.
We’re never told why Will was embarrassed of his glowing talent, to the point that he apparently hardly ever showed it off, and even on this occasion had to be coaxed into doing it by Nico. If I had to guess, I’d say probably because it’s yet another ability of his that completely lacks offensive power. But Apollo thinks it’s amazing, and he leaves Will no room to argue otherwise, and the next time we see Will, he’s glowing brighter than he ever has, bright enough to be mistaken by Nero’s soldiers for a god, and loudly declaring himself his father’s son in front of everybody. 
It’s easier to see all this in Will, who has the most page time out of all of Apollo’s children, but Kayla and Austin’s perception of their dad too has shifted in a similar way. A single compliment from Apollo makes Kayla blush right down to the roots of her hair. “You're taller,” is the first thing she and Austin tell him upon greeting him. “You hold yourself straighter.” This may or may not be factually true, but regardless I would wager that their comments are reflective of more than just a physical reality. He looks taller to them. He’s grown in their esteem. 
Kayla had been listening quietly, but now she leaned in. ‘Yeah, Meg was telling us about this prophecy you got. The Tower of Nero and all that. If there’s a battle, we want in.’
Austin wagged a breakfast sausage at me. ‘Word.’
There’s a big difference between this dialogue and when they promised Apollo that they’d protect him, back at the beginning of THO. The way they phrase this, it’s like they expect some pushback on the idea of them joining the fight. They expect that their father will want to protect them. That he may not even need them. And they respect his initial decision to leave them at camp, where he hopes they‘ll be safe.
But they make a point to let him know that they want to be there for him, with him, anyway. They know that, one way or another, their time together is coming to an end. 
It’s pretty obvious that this is something that weighs heavily on the minds of Will, Kayla and Austin all through book 5. Not so much the possibility that Apollo will die, but the possibility that he won’t. That he will become a god again, and they will have to go back to seeing him only in dreams, if they’re lucky maybe in person once a year, never for longer than it takes to exchange a gesture of affection, a couple hollow platitudes. That they’ll never get to be this close with him again.
They don’t ask him to stay. The big requests still feel too big for them to voice. But everything they actually say and do is telling enough.
 "I was hoping you'd come back," Will says, giving him the new clothes he's bought for him just in case. And he adds, "I wanted you to feel at home."
‘Hey, if we don’t get out of this –’
‘None of that talk,’ I chided.
‘Yeah, but I wanted to tell you, I’m glad we had some time together. Like … time time.’
His words warmed me even more than Paul Blofis’s lasagne.
I knew what he meant. While I’d been Lester Papadopoulos, I hadn’t spent much time with Austin, or any of the people I’d stayed with, really, but it had been more than we’d ever spent together when I was a god. Austin and I had got to know each other – not just as god and mortal, or father and son, but as two people working side by side, helping each other get through our often messed-up lives. That had been a precious gift. 
Austin makes a point to underscore that it’s not the mere fact of having gotten to share some time with his dad that he’s grateful for. It’s not like he never saw or talked to Apollo before. He and his siblings are lucky, for a demigodly definition of the word. Apollo always gave them the time of the day. But this is different. Austin doesn’t quite know how to describe, put into words, what exactly the difference is.
But Apollo does. “Austin and I got to know each other as people,” he says. He calls it a precious gift, as if it’s something out of his hands. Because it is. It will continue to be, until Apollo decides to wrestle it out of the hands of his father. He still doesn’t know that he can.
[Dionysus] disappeared in a grape-scented cloud of glitter.
‘Such a show-off,’ I muttered.
Will laughed. ‘You really have changed.’
‘I wish people would stop pointing that out.’
‘It’s a good thing.’
Notice what is it that prompts Will to remark on Apollo’s change. It’s not Apollo being desperate to get Kayla and Austin and Meg back, to the point of risking his own life to go find them. It’s not Apollo being kind to Harley and winning the child’s loyalty along with a ukulele. It’s not Apollo expressing sorrow and regret about Jason’s death.
There’s a moment, later in the book, in which Rachel actually does give Apollo the “it’s so great that you actually care about people now” speech, but to Apollo’s children this doesn’t seem to register as an actual change in their father at all. They never show surprise to see him care. 
Instead, what Will chooses to highlight as a novelty is Apollo rolling his eyes at Dionysus’ antics. He’s used to his father being kind. He’s not used to his father being serious. And he likes this new serious version of his dad – not humorless, but also very much not a clown all the time. It feels more real, somehow. Will doesn’t have anywhere near enough context to fully understand it, but the thing that he's really reacting to is the lack of a mask. 
Apollo does understand though. He understands what his children are trying to communicate to him, even though they are careful to phrase their desires exclusively as expressions of gratitude. He may find it hard to believe, still, but he ain’t stupid. It’s painfully obvious that his kids want more of this. More of HIM. And he wants nothing more than to be able to give it to them. But much like his children don’t dare ask, he doesn’t dare make a promise that he’s afraid he won’t be able to keep.
I think you can see, at this point, what I meant when I said that Apollo and his children have complementary arcs re: their relationship with their father. 
Apollo needs to give up on a father who refuses to accept him as his own person, keeps him from his own possessions, from his own loved ones. He needs to give up on a father who hates him enough to orchestrate his death. He must, for his own sake, and, most importantly, that of his children. 
Will, Kayla and Austin need to realize that they are entitled to ask more, that they should demand more of a father who loves them, completely unconditionally, enough to be willing to die for them. A father who, they are starting to discover, may be fully capable and willing to murder for them, too. 
The series ends before any of them have time to really act on the revelations they have had, the lessons they have learned. It’s an open ending, but the way forward is clear. 
Apollo tries to tell himself that it will be enough to keep his distance. But even as he tries to convince himself of this, he’s admitting that there’s really only one way to stop tyrants like Nero. Tyrants like Zeus. Who can’t be reasoned with, because they don’t care to be reasonable. Who can’t be cut off either, because they feel entitled to everything and have the power to trample all over other people’s boundaries. Visiting his children in secret, helping demigods behind his father’s back… that strategy wasn’t working for Apollo before, and it’s not gonna start working now. There’s only one way this story can end, and deep down Apollo has already acknowledged it. 
Apollo’s children, on the other hand, and I want to say especially Will, because he’s the one who has the most reasons and the most need to, should finally allow themselves to get angry at their dad. Because now they have seen, they have proof, that he can be a much better parent to them than he’s been all their life. Because they know him too well, now, to be able to make excuses for him. He is simply too good to be so awful a father. So how dare he?
The one time he was there with them, even as a mortal, even without his power, he saved them. So why could he not do it all the times before? Why could he not do it for all their other siblings?
Apollo let go of his anger, and, with it, he let go of the last of the hope he still held for his father too.
Will should be angry with his father because, now, he actually has hope for him.
No, it’s not Will’s responsibility to reform Apollo. But it matters to Apollo what his children have to say. What his children want. They know him well enough, now, to know that he’s both capable and willing to change for them.
But Fsinger, you’ll be asking me now, what about the infamous solangelo book teaser scene in the TON epilogue? Doesn’t that go against everything you’ve been so correctly and exhaustively arguing up until now?
To that I have to say 
1) I was hoping you wouldn’t bring that up
2) I really, really want to be wrong, but that scene really reads like a hasty, completely graceless reset of the status quo so that Will and Nico’s adventure, and probably many more after it too, can be written still following the same old formula that has already proven to sell. Suddenly, jarringly, Apollo's back to feeling like he can't do anything but watch in resigned impotence as his kids march to their death, and Will’s back to making excuses for his dad. Everything can continue on as usual. Move along, spectators, there’s nothing to see here. If you thought this story was leading up to a specific place, no you didn’t.
3)
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alexiethymia · 2 months
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hitsuhina and choice
I mean I love all iterations of hitsuhina and any version of them and their backstory, but the fact that Hitsugaya and Hinamori didn’t actually live together gets me y’know? (despite that many people thought the same, like me too and I always loved reading fics with that premise).
Because the fact that they didn’t actually live together (in fact they weren’t even neighbors, Kubo just says they lived in the same neighborhood) just hammers down Hitsugaya's strong regard for her. Because sure you could always argue that Hitsugaya was protective over her because they lived together (I mean I’m pretty sure many people characterized their relationship as familial because of that), and yeah I could totally get behind that, but knowing that they didn’t actually live together shows that of all the kids in their neighborhood, it was Hinamori who he grew his bond with to the point that he was ready to murder for her. It’s such an intense emotional tie to a childhood friend (*cough like Gin with Rangiku*) that I always wondered what could have led to it.
And I think a lot of it has to do with choice. Like Hinamori was popular. Hinamori was well-liked. Hinamori already had friends in their neighborhood. Hinamori didn’t have to be friends with the ‘cold’ kid that everyone - children and adults alike - were wary of. But she still did. She still laughed and smiled at him, hung out with him and ate watermelons with him, kept on visiting him even when her other friends were scared of him. And from Hitsugaya’s pov, she didn’t have to. She wasn’t family like his Granny. And it wasn’t as if he was alone either precisely because he had his Granny. In those early days he must’ve been confused why this sunny and warm girl would choose him. And this is way before he eventually becomes a powerful and well-liked captain, way before he was a prodigy, way before he was discovered to have strong reiatsu. He must have kept wondering why this girl kept on choosing him when he felt like he had nothing to offer her back and when it might have been detrimental to her to keep on hanging out with him because of the chance that she could have been isolated as well, like what was in it for her?
And this goes into the core of why I love Hinamori so much, of this little thing being an integral part of her character where we see snippets of it in the manga (like with Byakuya, Zaraki and to an extent Gin) that she never really judges people by their looks, that she’s open and accepting. Even when people were generally creeped out by Gin, she was only on her guard when Hitsugaya warned her about him. Sure it could be seen to be a weakness, but for something I’m sure she thought nothing of, I’m sure it meant a whole lot to Hitsugaya, enough that he considered her laughter like a spring breeze. Like honestly, I could believe how that ended in Hitsugaya becoming so intense about her and becoming incoherent with rage with what Aizen did.
Because that something that she ended up beating herself up about in the aftermath of Aizen - her trusting and accepting nature which I’m sure she thought was a weakness that she had to change, that nature of hers which was trampled upon and taken advantage of by Aizen and Gin - it was that very same nature which in Hitsugaya’s view probably saved him from his loneliness. He couldn’t stomach how that very same thing which made Momo who she was, the very same nature of hers which saved him, was so carelessly used to hurt her. Like, how dare they? Even worse, how dare they make Momo doubt herself? It was no wonder then that he couldn’t even hope to control or bottle up his unstable emotions threatening to overflow until they eventually did, with disastrous consequences.
In the same way Momo chose him so long ago, he continues and always chooses her, time and time again. Even when her attention was drawn away, even when her bright smile was no longer solely his, he never begrudged her. Time and again, he continued to prove that he’d always choose her - her safety, her well-being, her happiness - always choosing to protect her, even sometimes above and beyond Soul Society.
It’s all about the choice.
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 months
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Talia al Ghul is the song Never Love an Anchor by Crane Wives as she thinks about her son, Damian.
"On some level, I think I always understood that these hands of mine were clumsy, not clever."
Her inability to protect Damian from the same childhood she had. She has only ever known conditional love, her abilities being the only reason Ra's favors and supports her over her siblings. Talia has always known that her false lies of aiding her son were merely clumsy excuses for love.
"And I tried to do the best that I could. But try as I might, I couldn't bring myself to hold you."
She loves her son, but she also doesn't know what that means. Her father certainly didn't show her a caring parent's love. Talia didn't know how to show Damian that she loves him and she never got to properly prove that to him. She couldn't bring herself to openly love him when she knew the consequences of it.
"It's a secret I keep tucked inside my chest with this heart of mine that's guilty, not remorseful."
She's not sorry for how she raised Damian. It's part of why he survived his childhood in the first place. That doesn't stop the crushing guilt of hurting her son.
"There is love that doesn't have a place to rest, but it would have buried you if it had settled on your shoulders."
To bind herself to her son, even in love, is to hinder and burden him. Her father taught her about making connections and manipulating those relationships. She loves him, but loving her son puts them both in danger.
"On some level, I think I always understood that a ship could never really love an anchor. So, I did the only thing that I could and severed the rope to set you sailing from my harbor."
She sent Damian away to his father, ensuring that she would not be able to see her son. Bruce would be furious at her for the deception and for keeping his son from him. It works in setting Damian free, getting him to a safe place, and keeping him away from her. She is the one to sever their bond because she perceives herself to be a weight on his very being. She is stationary with the League and her position. Damian has room to grow, and he can go see so much more than just the LoA. He can explore all the world has to offer. Talia can not leave the League.
"There are times when I still wonder about you. You are someone I have loved, but never known."
She watches from afar as Damian discovers his love for drawing and art. He learns about his care for animals. He's so passionate about life, about things she had never allowed him to enjoy.
"And you'll never see the reasons I had for keeping my claws away when they were close enough to hurt you."
She knows that the distance and the pushing him away harms her son. She knows that he sees it as an error on his part. Yet, she does it for him. She has and continues to hurt him. She can't be close enough to reach him. She knows what that outcome is, what it has always been. So, she makes that choice for him. He will never have to choose between the pain of losing his mother over the pain of being with her.
"I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel. I am all the things they might have said to you."
There's no doubt in her mind that Bruce and the rest of Damian's family are saying horrific statements about her. She knows what she has done to her son. She's selfish in loving Damian while hurting him. She's selfish for making those choices for him and not letting him choose. She's broken in how she loves. She's cruel for the back and forth she does of showering her son in affection and then pushing him away.
"Do you ever think of me and my two hands? And wonder why they never soothed your fevers? And wonder why they never tied your shoes?"
She thinks about Damian all the time. Every waking hour, she ponders about what he's doing, whether 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 is helping him tie his shoes, whether her beloved is tending to him while sick. She couldn't do that with Damian in the LoA even if she wanted to. Does Damian understand that? Is he just a ten year old kid wondering why his mom doesn't love him?
"And wonder why they never held you gently?"
She wonders that too, some nights. Her parents never held her gently. Should she have tried to hold onto Damian? If she knew she would never get the chance to later, would she wrap her son in a hug declaring him safe? Would it have been worth the risks?
"And wonder why they never had the chance to lose you?"
She doesn't give Damian the chance to leave her. She doesn't give him the chance to stay. She doesn't allow herself the option of keeping him by her side. She hasn't lost him if she sent him away.
I think the song perfectly fits earlier characterizations of Talia and how that would affect her self-image, her relationship with Damian (and the child she gave up), and her beliefs on love.
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merymoonbeam · 3 months
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Fionn
CC3 spoilers
in my wild hunt post I theorized that High King Fionn wasn't dead but was sleeping because Sarah loves to take inspo from the myths and in myths it says that he is sleeping in a cave.
According to the most popular account of Fionn's death, he is not dead at all, rather, he sleeps in a cave, surrounded by the Fianna. One day he will awake and defend Ireland in the hour of her greatest need. In one account, it is said that he will arise when the Dord Fiann, the hunting horn of the Fianna, is sounded three times, and he will be as strong and as well as he ever was.
and after hofas and what we learned about his "death" I went to find more. (that research paper about fionn's death)
we have different version's of his supposed death in myths.
This slight text unites three elements that recur, singly or in combination, in virtually all accounts of Finn's death; hence it could be argued that most versions of the death of Finn descend from the Aided Finn tradition. These are: 1.the leap (that is, Finn's death occurred when he failed to complete a jump across a stretch of water); 2.the Luigne (that is, the Luigne Temra were involved in Finn's death, often decapitating him); 3.the drink (that is, the act of drinking from an adarc or of drinking a poisoned drink caused or hastened Finn's death).92
when you take a look at the leap cause...it involves a fairy lover.
In these two accounts, although the depth of detail and the source length are different, the same narrative core is to be found: Finn trysts with the fairy lover of a character called Taoileachd mac Chuiligeadan. When Taoileachd discovers this, rather than having the two come to blows, the fairy lover makes a judgment that whoever best performs a leap will be the man she chooses. Both accomplish the forward leap and Taoileachd then challenges Finn to make the leap back. Taoileachd accomplishes the leap but Finn does not. Finn falls into the lake whereupon Taoileachd decapitates him.
Theia was Fionn's lover.
My mother and father, Fionn, had kept their love a secret through the years, knowing the Daglan would find it amusing to tear them apart if they learned of the affair. But they were able to meet in secret—and to plan their uprising.(hofas)
and there is that his age played a role in his death.
Finn's death either singly or in smaller groups, e.g. that his death occurred as a consequence of or was closely associated with a leap, that he was decapitated, that he died at a river or other body of water, and that his age played a role in the event.
Theia killed fionn bc she thought the right to rule was hers and fionn was getting old.
After centuries with an empty womb, my mother bore both my sister and me within a span of five years. My father was fading by then—he was centuries older than my mother. But Fionn did not consider my mother a worthy successor. The crown should go to the eldest child, he said—to my sister, Helena. It was time, he thought, for a new generation to lead. It did not sit well with my mother, or with many of those in her court— especially her general, Pelias. He agreed with my mother that Helena was too young to inherit our father’s throne. But my mother was still in her prime. Still ripe with power, and it was clear that she’d been blessed by the gods themselves, since she had been gifted children at long last.(hofas)
and his death by a body of water.
The image shifted to some sort of marsh—a bog. Fionn rode a horse between the islands of grass, bow at the ready as he ducked beneath trees in bloom. My parents often went hunting in the vast slice of land the Daglan had kept for their private game park, where they had crafted terrible monsters to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death. A dark-haired, pale creature that could have been the relative of the nøkk in Jesiba’s gallery dragged a bound and gagged Fionn into the inky depths of the bog, the once-proud king screaming as he went under. Horror rooted Bryce to the spot. Theia and Pelias stood at the water’s edge, faces impassive. Petals began falling from the trees. Leaves with them. Birds took flight. As if sudden winter gripped the bog. As if the land had died with its king.(hofas)
so as you can see...it fits well with how fionn "died" in the myths to how it is described in the book. He died bc of a fairy lover, in a body of water.
now coming back to his "not being dead"
supposedly fionn is buried atop a mountain and there are stones.
'Shee-Mór and Shee-Beag' (D1) says that Finn is buried atop a mountain, this time Shee Beag in Co. Limerick, where a giant lived and in which giants throwing stones feature, while 'Old Irish Tales/Cavan1' (D19) informs us that Finn is supposedly buried under a stone on Ardkill Mountain, but because 'he is supposed to have been buried under so many stones that it is hard to say which he is buried under.'
I theorized in my wild hunt post that it could be Ramiel and that's why it was sacred to them. and I found this.
The location of the grave is sometimes combined with a feature of the landscape known as Suidhe Finn or Seefin, a placename for a hill or high ground in which hunting is usually good; such sites are readily associated with Finn, the fían, and their hunting exploits in literature and folklore.70 Association of elevated places called Suidhe Finn may have led to the association of further hills and mountains with the fían, as we see above with Murmod hill, or the stone features which were easily incorporated into giant lore may have been the original reason for such associations. Both could have easily played a role in these places becoming associated with Finn's grave.
hunting? blood rite? fianna the warriors of fionn in myths is also connected with a rite.
Scholars believe the fian was a rite of passage into manhood, and have linked fianna with similar young warrior bands in other early European cultures.
and this is blood rite?
“What’s the Blood Rite?” “What it sounds like.” He rubbed his neck. “When an Illyrian warrior comes into his full power, usually in his twenties, he has to go through the Blood Rite before he can qualify as a full warrior and adult. Would-be warriors from every clan and village get sent in, usually three or four from each—all of them scattered across an area in the Illyrian Mountains. We’re left there for a week with two goals: survival, and making it to Ramiel.”(acosf)
so....is Fionn really buried under Ramiel?
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shardofcognition · 11 months
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Miguel Misunderstands the Canon
... But not completely. Theory:
Canon in Across the Spiderverse is the driving force behind most of the conflict in the movie. According to the Spider Bureau, canon events bind the various spider universes together, serving as points of common connection that anchor them to both each other and existence itself. And these events... can be kind of rough. The Death of Uncle Ben being the first and most iconic event in the Spider Canon. That formative loss binds together the various incarnations of Spider Man in the first movie, and across all the universes. It wasn't until Tom Holland's Spiderman lost May that many felt his journey into being Spiderman was complete.
That loss binds the Spiders, but it's not always the same, even if its effect is common. Peter lost Ben. Gwen lost Peter. Holland's Peter lost May. And Miles… lost his Uncle. Which puts Miles, importantly, within the canon *in his own right.*
Miguel, though, I'm told, doesn't necessarily have his own Uncle Ben moment. He is, maybe even more than Miles, an odd one out. But more on that later.
---
The Spider Bureau pretty quickly figured out that canon events exist, and that they have traits in common that might render them predictable. And, thanks to Miguel's meddling, they've discovered that interfering in those events can have catastrophic effects. It can untether a Spiderverse from the canon web, sending it careening into oblivion.
One of those canon events involves Peter having to choose between saving two people, one of them a police captain he's close to, and watching as that captain doesn't make it out alive. And this is where Miles "screws up" Pavitr Prabhakar's canon, and it's immediately apparent that the changes damaged the universe.
Whatever anyone else speculates, there's something important going on - canon events DO seem to exist, there are clearly consequences to careless intervention, and they do seem to be fairly predictable. But when that leads Miles to realize his own father might be in danger, Miguel tries to hold him back from saving his father, because he isn't willing to risk the integrity of the Spiderverse any more than he has to. Miles, though, cries out that if he knows something terrible is going to happen, he cannot help but try to stop it.
And this is why Miguel has it wrong.
---
What are Canon Events? What do we know about them? They're pivotal, formative events in Spiderman's history that have an indelible effect on his character - that shape who he IS. And this is why Miguel's abstention is JUST as deviant as Miles' outside intervention. The whole POINT of a canon event is that it shapes who Spiderman is and who he becomes. If he abandons who he is and becomes someone different in order to avoid affecting that timeline, he's broken it just the same.
Our big example, Pavitr Prabhakar, is a situation where there are two people he could save, one an adult authority figure who he's got a dual relationship with, the other a child and a stranger. And he is supposed to choose one and lose the other. But, why?
The clue is in his introduction. Pavitr is high on life, having a good time, brimming with snark and optimism. But he also throws out a few red flags. He announces, for one, that he doesn't work out or train because he's not interested in ruining his aesthetic, and his natural ability is sufficient. And that is what is at issue, here. Pavitr is consciously less than he could be, because he thinks he can handle whatever life throws at him as he is right now. Losing Officer Singh would have been a hard reminder, that regardless of how strong he might be, he has his limits, he needs to grow, and the people around him are still heroic and yet at greater risk.
In short, preventing that event doesn't affect the universe because Officer Singh needed to die. It affects the universe because Pavitr Prabhakar needed to GROW. And if Pavitr DOES grow, winds up with that visceral lesson in his own limits, it probably solves whatever instability has rocked his timeline.
For that reason, also, Gwen's not out of the woods. Because, she, too, needs to grow... but it's a different lesson than is facing Pavitr and Miles, and so it will probably, ultimately, be a different event she has to face.
---
Finally, we can come back to the man himself, Miguel. Some people think he's lying about his own brush with deviation from the canon. But I think, ultimately, what happened was that he was harshly brought back into line.
The story, as he tells it, is that he lost his family, but had gained the ability to cross between universes. And, with that power, the thought, "Why not?"
"Why shouldn't I be happy?"
"Why can't I just use this power for myself? Who, exactly, am I hurting, if I just take what isn't earned, if it makes me happy?"
And what happens? It gets the people that he cares about killed.
This happens all the time in the Spider Canon. It's the story of Uncle Ben, where Spiderman, new to his powers, uses them selfishly and abdicates his responsibility. And as such, what happens? He puts other people's lives at risk, loses the person closest to him, and has to take responsibility for that power so that other people don't suffer the same way.
Miguel DOESN'T lack an Uncle Ben Event.
Miguel's Uncle Ben was his entire borrowed universe.
And he doesn't understand it.
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harryshairclippy · 10 months
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I just realized there is absolutely no way I would be able to make an end of the year fic rec because it would just be tooooo long. I'm splitting things up for the first half of the year!!
I'll Fly Away - @juliusschmidt - 122K
Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not; Harry went to Chicago where he found a boyfriend and couple of college degrees. Six years later, Harry ends up back in Edwardsville for the summer and he and Louis fall into old patterns and discover new ones.
ft. One Direction, the local boyband; Horan’s Bar and Grill; families, most especially children and babies; Officer Liam Payne; many local festivals and fireworks displays; and Anne Cox, PFLAG President.
I Don't Wanna Face The Music - @hereforh - 95K
Louis likes to think he's a pretty normal, typical lad. He likes spending nights at the pub with his mates, he loves football and is very close to his family. So when he moves to London for uni, he doesn’t think much will be different.
Until he makes these new friends who are nothing like his mates back home and change his life for the better - and this one boy who messes with his head from the get go and makes him question everything he has ever thought about himself.
Stranger Stars - @sunshineandhisrainbows - 212K
Five years ago, Africa offered a grieving Louis Tomlinson an escape from an England he couldn't tolerate. Now it's become home as he leads overland tours across the continent with his best friend and driver Zayn Malik. What's meant to be just another ordinary six-week trip from Cape Town to Nairobi turns into anything but, when future lawyer/current photographer and songwriter Harry Styles and his friends join Louis' latest set of passengers.
Mine Would Be You - @crinkle-eyed-boo - 114K
Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.
Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.
Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.
Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?
Perfect Storm - @cherrystreet - 80K
What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.
Harry and Louis choose the latter.
Golden - @sunshineandhisrainbows - 128K
Harry is fully dressed when Louis returns to the room. He’s slumped on the edge of the bed, fingers twining awkwardly around the edge of his pink flounces. “Can I come?” he blurts when Louis opens the bathroom door. Louis freezes. “What?” “North. With you,” Harry clarifies. “If you’re going north, could I come too?”
On a rainy night in Auckland in the middle of his world tour, popstar Harry Styles loses his ability to carry on. Instead of continuing to Sydney and the rest of his tour, he seeks sanctuary with Louis Tomlinson, a man with a macadamia nut farm and a mysterious past.
Sun Means The Sky'll Be Blue - @moonhusbands - 91K
As the only singleton under thirty attending his cousin's five-day wedding, Harry is desperate to find a date, or at least a reason to get people's questions about his love life off his back. So when Louis, Harry's old uni roommate and fellow wedding attendee waltzes back into his life, Harry seizes the opportunity, pretending Louis is his ex-boyfriend and that it's a sore subject not to be mentioned.
If it's a little bit closer to the truth than Harry would like, well, he's a master at living in denial.
So cue a mess of trudged-up feelings, past misunderstandings, a rekindled summer romance and a whole lot of sexually-charged bickering.
Being of the Jealous Kind - @louisandtheaquarian - 24K
A-list actor Louis Tomlinson and his partner fashion photographer Harry Styles weather the storm that is Louis’ fake relationship with his costar in the lead up to this year’s Academy Awards.
Featuring a fluffy teenage meet-cute, an angsty wine drunk Harry melting down over pap pics, Louis habitually overusing the word “baby,” and cameos by a vintage Umbro sweatshirt, the peace ring, and one hell of a Larry hug.
Or the justice for To Be So Lonely fic. Based on the lyrics to TBSL and a prompt where “Louis has to fake date some celebrity, while his boyfriend Harry sits at home.”
Late Night Talking - @kingsofeverything - 53K
Louis Tomlinson has a new album coming out and a second world tour on the horizon. Promo season gets underway with a stop at Late Night Talking, the late night show hosted by Harry Styles, and Harry Styles just happens to be the man who blew a chance to date Louis a decade ago.
With A Little Kindness - @jacaranda-bloom - 33K
The man lays his hand on Harry’s forearm and Harry looks up as the stranger leans in. “I just wanted to say,” he whispers. “Can I cover your bill? I’m a big believer in paying it forward and I can see you’re struggling. It’s none of my business, of course, but I’d really like to help.”
OR the one where Harry is a struggling single parent who doesn’t have time for relationships and Louis is a generous stranger who is unlucky in love, until fate decides to step in and bring them together.
Loved By Your Mother - @gaymoustache - 31K
Harry stretches out like Venus with her lover, growing sleepy in the late afternoon light with a baby growing inside her. Perhaps not literally, not physically. Not exactly.
or
Harry struggles to come to terms with wanting to have children, and what that means for their relationship. Canon compliant, set a few years into the future.
you taught me how to love (i taught you how to stop) - @thedevilinmybrain - 50K
"I was always better at hand to hand than you," Harry growls, even as he leans his weight into the blade. It's small, sharp, has a handle of gold roses.
"I don't know about that." Louis moves his arm forward, makes the presence of the barrel of the gun fit snugly to Harry's hip. "I think we just play differently."
"You going to shoot me?" Harry asks, those wild eyes tracking over Louis' face. "Do it."
"I think I've put enough scars on you," Louis answers, means it about the stretch marks still lining the sides of Harry's stomach, but it lands a little too raw. There are other scars on Harry's body that Louis blames himself for, scars inside too.
your memory over me - @shimmeringevil - 64K
Three years have passed since Louis last saw him, but all it took was a few minutes in Harry’s presence for him to be relegated to the desperate twenty-one year old that was practically begging his boyfriend for an ounce of reassurance that he still cared about him.
Harry shouldn’t be here. He’s brought too many unresolved feelings with him, that Louis thought he’d never have to face.
It’s Harry’s apparent apathy that’s the most difficult to come to terms with. Anger, he could handle. Regret, he would welcome. But Harry’s amiability, and carefree demeanor can only be born from indifference.
He’s moved on. He doesn’t care. And that is something Louis doesn’t think he’ll ever be strong enough to face.
-
OR - The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.
knock knock, i love you - @beautlouis - 86K
“Well,” Louis says, searching for something to relieve this tension. “I think if a bloke gets kicked out of his stats exam for a knock knock joke, he deserves to hear the punchline, yeah?”
“Oh!” Harry says, beaming. “I forgot where we left off, what was it again?” He looks overjoyed to be exchanging a shit joke.
“Ah, you said knock knock, then I said who’s there, and then you said Noah,” Louis supplies helpfully. He hates that he's actually curious about the rest of the joke. “So, Noah who?”
“Oh,” says Harry, in a much different tone, dragging out the syllable. He looks bashful now. Louis cannot keep up with this boy, it's going to kill him. “Right, well.” He shuffles his feet. Fuck, what kind of knock knock joke gets a boy nervous? “Noah a good place we could get something to eat?”
[Harry and Louis get kicked out of a statistics exam for passing a knock knock joke note, and subsequently fall in love. Harry's a virgin, there's a cat, a hot cocoa date, a lot of sex, even more knock knock jokes, and everything is lovely and happy.]
i'm a captain on a jealous sea - @thedevilinmybrain - 15K
It’s not that Louis doesn’t like Nick. He is, if he’s being honest, kind of indifferent. Louis gets that Nick is just doing his job most of the time, being loud and prying, not having boundaries. But it’s just a little too much for Louis’ taste. Louis, who has learned over the years, when to be loud and when to know that coy is the game. But, it doesn’t matter really. He’s not required to like everyone, doesn’t have to make nice with them outside of having a camera shoved in his face. He can let Nick be Nick and it shouldn’t affect Louis at all.
Except.
What Louis actually has a problem with is the way Nick Grimshaw looks at Harry.
One More Time Again - orphan_account - 232K
Harry looks down to where Louis is cradling his hand between his own. Louis' hands are slender, the bones delicate, the nails bitten short. The 2-8 on the backs of his fingers is gone, but the faded scar from a skateboarding mishap in Year 7 is still there.
Harry's hand is awkward, knobby-boned and naked, no rings, no tattoos. It's too big for his wrist and his wrist too big for his arm. Yet it still somehow fits in Louis' in the painfully perfect way it always did.
He blinks back the sting in his eyes.
On the morning of his second sold-out performance at Madison Square Garden, Harry wakes up to find that he's sixteen years old, on The X Factor, and that he has a chance to make things right.
A canon-compliant fix-it fic (sort of).
Darling, so it goes - @disgruntledkittenface - 195K
Harry Styles is a world-famous actor at the height of his career but a personal low point when he meets His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Monaco by chance. He doesn’t think they’ll ever see each other again, but after striking up a correspondence, it turns out they have more in common than he thought. Then they start to fall for each other. Louis is different from anyone Harry has dated before and their relationship moves fast as Harry realizes he’s ready for a change. Soon Harry finds himself adapting to an entirely new life, in a country where he doesn’t know the rules, the customs, even the language. Harry is used to people underestimating him, and he’s more determined than ever to prove them wrong.
He just needs Louis to meet him halfway.
Grace Kelly AU.
Sweetest Devotion - @brightgolden - 61K
After his divorce, all Harry wants in life is to provide a stable, loving environment for his three-year-old daughter, Evie.
Never in his wildest dreams has he ever considered that life might come with the presence of his teenage crush — Gemma’s friend from secondary school, Louis Tomlinson.
Luckily, Harry isn’t still pining over him.
Or so he thought.
Went Down In Flames - @itsnotreal - 26K
Louis was in an absolutely shit storm. He had let it go on for too long. Let it go too far. But he had a plan. And tonight, said plan was going down. He was going to tell the boys he was proposing this weekend. ‘Harry’ would turn him down, albeit gently, and Louis would play the heartbroken boyfriend. He’d gotten this far. All he had to do was lock himself in his bedroom and cry a little. He’d been in a few plays growing up. Piece of cake.
Except. It didn’t go that way. Of course, it didn’t. Because the universe, the beautiful chaotic bitch that she was, just had to have an actual Harry Styles and he just had to be Niall’s best friend.
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hannahmanderr · 1 year
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DannyMay Day 8 - Electric Core AU
(day 7 is coming, I promise afhdsj)
Words: 1,804 (FFN)
Summary: Vlad wants more than anything to help the child who has fallen to his same fate. Unfortunately for him, his help is the last thing Danny wants. (dialogue prompt borrowed from @danphanwritingprompts)
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“I want to go home.”
Vlad frowned at the boy huddled into the corner of the couch across from him. “You are home,” he replied matter-of-factly before taking a sip of his tea. 
“No,” Daniel said. The dark bags under his eyes stood out in sharp contrast to his paper-white face. His left eye and cheek convulsed in a tic. “You kidnapped me from my actual home.”
Vlad sighed. He’d been over this with the child already. “I didn’t kidnap you,” he said. “I brought you here to help you, my dear boy. I told you, I’m the only one who can truly help you.” The fact that he continued to ignore this fact was beginning to irk Vlad a little, but it was more hurtful than anything.
Daniel pulled his knees even tighter into his chest as his face twitched again. “I had Sam and Tucker. They would’ve helped me.”
“I certainly believe they would have attempted to help you, but their success in doing so is a completely different matter. Do you think they can even begin to understand the things you’re going through? The being you’ve become?”
“Don’t say that!” Daniel shouted. His eyes flared momentarily with a toxic green glow. Tiny sparks crackled in his disheveled hair. “I’m fine. We were figuring it out just fine until you showed up and kidnapped me!”
Vlad gingerly set his teacup down and inhaled deeply through his nose. It was… difficult to avoid showing the painful impact of the child’s words. It was even more difficult to avoid retaliating with his own shouts. “Please, my boy,” he pleaded, switching tactics. “Look at yourself. You can barely keep yourself corporeal! It’s a miracle you hadn’t blown out your parents’ circuit system by the time I found you!”
Daniel pressed his hands over his ears and shook his head like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “No, no,” he said as he squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s just a side effect, it’ll wear off soon. It’s just a side effect, it’ll wear off soon.” He continued to repeat the sentence over and over again like a mantra, his face continuing to tic irregularly.
Vlad found himself at a bit of a loss. It had been a while since he’d been in such prolonged, close contact with anyone, least of all a teenager. He was admittedly embarrassed that he didn’t quite know how to conduct himself here. A consequence of choosing to lead a life of reclusivity, he supposed, but it was now proving to be a disadvantageous choice.
Then again, what other choice could he have possibly had? After being quarantined, after losing contact with Jack and Maddie, after discovering just what he’d become…
He resisted a shudder. No, he couldn’t let the same thing happen to this poor child.
Silently, he rose from his armchair and moved toward Daniel, choosing to simply phase through the coffee table. The boy still had his hands pressed over his ears and his eyes shut tight; his mouth continued to move in his mantra, but no sound was coming out. Vlad knelt in front of him. He reached out to take Daniel’s hand, but he hesitated and settled for grasping the edge of the couch after thinking better of it.
“Daniel,” he said, then, remembering how he’d first been introduced to the boy, said, “Danny…” Buttercream frosting, this was hard. He hadn’t been in a position where he’d had to comfort someone other than himself in years. Was he keeping his voice gentle enough? Did he seem calm? He certainly didn’t feel calm.
Focus, he told himself. Taking a deep breath, he began again. “Danny, please,” he begged.
Miraculously, the boy heard him. Watery blue eyes opened and bored straight into Vlad’s. The man had to resist the urge to shy away from Daniel’s intense gaze. He could see the unfiltered power simmering behind those eyes, and he found himself wondering exactly what the child was capable of.
“Please,” Daniel whispered in a cracking voice. “Please… I don’t - I just wanna go home. I just want all of this to stop.” His cheek convulsed again as he lowered his gaze. Almost inaudibly, he said, “I don’t even know what I am anymore.”
Vlad watched in empathetic sorrow. He’d been plagued with the same thoughts for years after his accident and forced quarantine. Even now, he occasionally found himself second-guessing his own existence. In comparison, the boy’s accident had only happened a few weeks ago. Nowhere near long enough to come to terms with the whirlwind of emotional chaos and confusion that came with it.
“You are… a wonder,” he began slowly. Before he could stop himself, he continued, “You have come face to face with Death and denied him - a feat that few others throughout history have been able to accomplish. You - you have been reborn from the elements of your death, into something far greater than an average human. You are nothing short of the miracle that has led you here.” 
Vlad’s own words surprised him. Usually he wasn’t one to wax poetic like that. It was this child, though - this unassuming fourteen-year-old boy who never would have caught his eye otherwise. Something about him compelled Vlad, grabbed him by the shoulders and tore at his heartstrings, stirring in him, for the first time in nearly 20 years, the wrenching pain of care for another.
And he was okay with it. More than okay with it. The realization that he’d meant every word he’d said terrified him, but in the same butterfly-inducing terror that possessed a person just before they took the leap of faith.
He was ready to take that leap.
Daniel stared at him, dumbfounded. “A miracle?” he hissed. His eyes burned with green light again, and Vlad caught a vague whiff of sulfur. “You’re calling this nightmare a miracle?”
Vlad faltered. He hadn’t exactly been expecting this response. “Oh, my child, not like that. Please, I -”
“No!” Daniel shouted. The tears evaporated from his eyes in a tiny puff of steam. Sparks began snapping in his hair again. “I am not your child! Don’t you dare call me that!”
He extended his legs abruptly, nearly knocking Vlad from his feet. The man quickly stood, hands raised. “Danie- Danny, please.” He was struggling to maintain his calm demeanor in the face of a boy rapidly losing control of his already unstable abilities. “All I want is to help you!”
“I don’t want your help!”
Perhaps words weren’t the way to placate him, Vlad was beginning to realize. Maybe a physical demonstration would be more effective. He exhaled and concentrated on the buzzing knot of energy right above his sternum. With the precision of two decades worth of practice, he willed the energy forward, into his arms and hands. He was vaguely aware of the crackling electricity rippling across his scalp and down his spine.
Ever so gently, he expanded his energy further. No need to frighten the boy any more than he already was. But he needed to do this. He needed to show him he could help.
Daniel’s eyes flew wide open. “What are you doing?” he demanded, though his voice trembled. Whether it was from fear or anger, Vlad couldn’t tell.
“I’m trying to show you,” the man explained. In one swift move, he allowed his energy to make contact with Daniel’s, but he was nearly overwhelmed by the sheer strength and ferocity of the child’s aura. A quiet voice in the back of his head began to worry that the boy’s power was too much for either of them to handle.
He silenced that voice quickly. He couldn’t give into that, not now.
Instead, he said, “Can’t you feel it? You and I, we’re the same. Our energies are the same.” It was true. Being so close to Daniel’s own fledgling core, feeling the unwilling yet inevitable ballet between their two spirits, it told him as much. His hot, precise electricity found itself in perfect harmony with the boy’s burning cold lightning storm. The resulting potential was intoxicating. Vlad savored it with every passing second.
He needed this. He needed to help the child, to make him understand just how right it was that he was here.
Daniel, sadly, did not have the same reaction. He yelped and tried to scamper as far from Vlad as possible, resulting in him falling through the back of the couch. By the time Vlad rounded the corner of the couch, Daniel was back on his feet, though his form continued to flicker and his face twitched more rapidly. The snapping electricity in his hair fizzled through strands faster and faster, and Vlad caught sight of an angry red lightning pattern painting the underside of the boy’s jaw, down his neck, and below his collar.
“S-stay away from me!” Daniel shouted, continuing to stumble backward. “We’re not - I’m nothing like you!”
The words stung Vlad like a thousand wasps. Losing all remaining composure, he cried, “That’s not true! Please, Dani- Danny, I can help you! I’ve been through this just like you, I can teach you how to control it, but please, you must calm down before you hurt yourself!” And before I lose you, he added silently.
Daniel’s fingers dug into his biceps. His eyes were shut tightly again, but Vlad could still see the remnants of their toxic green glow seeping through the cracks. His facial tic was uncontrollable at this point. “I’m not - I-I can’t…” he gasped in between short, panicked breaths. The smell of sulfuric ozone was pungent at this point.
Daniel fell to his knees. Hastily, Vlad drew his energy back in and dropped to his knees as well. “Daniel! Can you hear me?”
The boy didn’t respond. Instead, he gasped violently and opened his eyes wide, revealing twin pools of green. “M-my… too - too much,” he choked out as his form flickered wildly. 
The moments that followed happened in quick succession. Vlad, operating purely from his panic, reached forward to put his hands on Daniel’s shoulders. In that moment, he felt every hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand upright; the tang of something metallic could be tasted in the air. He recognized the hallmark signs of the impending disaster and, in the next moment, realized he was too late to stop it.
The instant his hands made contact with Daniel, a blinding white bolt of electricity cracked into existence, forming a ring around the boy’s waist. 
The resounding force launched Vlad backwards and into a bookcase. The back of his head slammed into the edge of a shelf, and he crumpled to the ground.
The last thing he saw as he slipped into unconsciousness was lightning dancing across snow white hair and Daniel’s acidic green eyes.
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fanficapologist · 26 days
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Ok so I went back and reread (parts) chapter 64 to get Helaena's prophecy and it was so interesting to see it with a slightly different perspective because of Aemond's POV with Alys.
When Helaena & Maera are talking about the insect: He views the female as a formidable being with extraordinary abilities.” Sounds like Aemond after he discovered Alys was right about Maera coming back to KL (her vision).
"It is not until the last second that he realizes what has happened,” Helaena continued...“That she has consumed him entirely because she can, and that while the consequences were obvious, his breeding instincts told him not to listen.”. Aemond doesn't want to get rid of/kill Alys because she's carrying his child (even if it's a bastard), but he's not realizing the consequences of her having his baby (especially if it's a boy). Her child could affect Maera & his child with Maera; both might be on danger with Alys still around. She could try to say her child is the rightful heir over Maera's. Or she could harm Maera and her child, so Alys' is the only child of Aemond's.
"Do you think if he knew that it would lead to his demise he would still choose to mate her?" If he didn't think of the consequences of sleeping with Alys (he was shocked she was pregnant) and his choice could (eventually) lead to his demise at The God's Eye. Again she has seen what could happen if Aemond follows her "visions" exactly. If anything changes, her vision may change and it would have a different outcome. He has no idea of the final vision for him and his family, so he's taking unnecessary risks that will/could affect his family.
"I think some males are dumber than others and would still choose to mate," she finally replied with a faint smile. Aemond would still choose his path (giving Alys his seed) because it lead him to Maera and (possibly) the throne with Maera as his queen. He's not thinking clearly or thinking of the possibile consequences (good or bad) for not just him, but his family.
"The hatchling will be scorched by dragon fire in the castle of the old Kings Curse." I think Alys did or said something stupid/bad and her and her child don't survive. Not sure if it's Vhagar or Ebrion that does it. My guess would be Ebrion because Aemond lacks confidence (or is just stupid) and can't think without Alys' visions or is too worried about losing the war without her visions (instead of relying on his counsel members, Cole, Maera, etc.), so Maera needs to take care of things. I could be wrong.
I know this is mean, but I can't wait for her demise. I know Alys doing what she needs to, to survive, but not at the expense of Maera and her baby.
Sorry if I am completely wrong in my lengthy analysis. And thanks for reading! 🙂
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This is everything! 🖤
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savventeen · 1 year
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a rose that blooms in winter
pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: G wc: 672 words prompt: none, just wanted winter vibes <3 summary: walking home with you on a snowy winter evening, seungkwan decides to be brave. warnings: none tags: fluff, getting together, declarations of love, first kiss, seungkwan is in love with reader and finally decides to say something a/n: this is just something soft and sweet for my favorite season <3 also i know i'll never get to smooch seungkwan's cheeks irl so i have to live vicariously through the reader lol (this was originally a yoonjin drabble posted on twitter/ao3)
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seungkwan isn't quite sure why this is the moment he's choosing to be brave.
maybe it’s because it’s one of those moments that feels suspended in time — one that’s been gently paused and taken just outside the realm of reality.
you’re both surrounded by the falling snow, large fat flakes drifting down and quietly kissing jackets and beanies and rosy cheeks alike. you stand there under the pale lamplight, grocery bags in hand and waiting next to him for the signal to change so you can cross the street together.
he looks over at you, watches the way you look up at the grey, winter sky like it’s some kind of miracle, and when you open your mouth to catch a falling flake on your tongue, something in him squeezes before slotting into place.
suddenly, he comes to an incredible realization: it doesn’t matter what his destination is — it will never matter. The both of you could walk anywhere and everywhere, through any city, over mountains and across deserts and he would never be lost because his home would be walking right beside him.
maybe he’s choosing to be brave because it’s something that’s been building for a while now.
he hadn’t known what it was, at first — a mysterious seed that had been planted in his chest.
but oh, had it grown.
with every smile, with every touch, with every honey-dipped whisper of his name, it had grown. it was still growing, even now as he listens to you laugh about a stupid joke you'd just made — and it was going to keep growing, keep blooming and blossoming and filling the empty spaces between his ribs.
maybe, above all, he’s going to say it because it’s true.
it’s a truth that’s existed in him for weeks, and he's never been one for keeping those things hidden away. he's spent his whole life living in every new truth he discovers, no matter the consequences.
no matter the consequences.
because that’s what being brave is, right?
but though he always has been and always will be someone who is braver than he thinks, he will also never be immune to fear.
fear, who takes his declaration and makes it quiver, rushed, and the soft wool of his scarf absorbs his voice like so many other things have stolen it in the past — like so many people and places and circumstances he couldn’t control.
you turn to him when you hear him mumble, and you blink some snowflakes out of your lashes. “what did you say? i didn’t hear you.”
but he can control this, he knows. his fear is not an untamed beast.
he can control the way he chooses to peel back all of the layers he's built up from winter after winter after winter — he can control the way he gets down to his flesh and bone and chooses to open up even further still, cracking his chest open just enough for you to see where his heart thump-thumps to a song he thinks only you know how to sing.
“seungkwan?”
no matter the consequences.
“i love you.”
your face is frozen for a moment, the changing of the traffic light going unnoticed behind you.
but then shock bleeds into awe bleeds into joy bleeds into you dropping your grocery bags, yanking down his scarf, and bringing his face to yours and kissing him soundly — cold and sweet and emphatic and full of an exuberance that can only come with yearning, returned.
you pull back, eyes wild and grin bright enough to melt the polar ice caps as you declare — “boo seungkwan, you are the light of my fucking life” — before immediately diving back in to pepper kisses across his cheeks, red from the cold and something else.
he giggles, startled and endeared and so, so in love.
and then he pulls back just enough to hold your face between his mittened hands and bring your freezing noses together. “and you're mine.”
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