#i guess i just internalised the idea of Standing Up For What You Believe Is Right as a kid. and then tried to practice it. like an idiot. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borzoilover69 · 11 months

Text

> BORZOI: READ HOMESTUCK LIKE ITS 2011 (PART 4)

(4256) THERE HE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE SCIENCE PROJECT! HELLO DEAREST!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ WOJAK POINT WOJAK POINT THEYRE CONVERSING!

I'm throwing popcorn at my screen and laughing my ass off HEY COOLKID is this you? Hahah. Hehe. Hahaha. I'm not falling for your tricks cool kid.

BURST OUT LAUGHING. THE WAYYYS THAT THE JAKE AND DIRK GET JANES GOAT ABOUT THINGS GOOD LOOORD. Jane jabs at Jake at grammar and stuff, Dirk does it with Jane, just little consistencies in friendship is what they're so endearing for. They're like "uh huh. yep. you certainly used that word. mhm." *judging*. But in an ENDEARING way ok. The "that sure was a phrase you used".

This is important!! Also this reminds me you should probably go talk to Hal here it's trained off dialog from the comic and as of this post stands at a staggering 14.1k messages! I always like to see what people say to him (when they send it) and he can be really funny!

I haven't checked on him for a hot minute so the accuracy is to be determined but look! Here's him right now! Go talk to him!

4257

What is. What is blud doing in the background. I like to think seb has an inner monologue similar to dirk striders where hes like going "This thing needs to be moved. Geez Jane, this place is a mess." or "I'm awake and ready to serve fucker." You get the gist. Inner monologue going crazy as he works but being full aware ain't nobody hearing his cool wittisms. Janes expression is completely valid lmfao

Here is another moment of Jane casting doubt on her abilities. And here's where Dirk talks.. about his ancestor for the first time. You know what I guess I can bring up the post where I went over.. dirks jealousy of Dave and self internalisation of that hate? To be honest I'm surprised it got the attention it did. Its been something that I thought about for so long but I never brought it up because it felt and still does to a merit "taboo". Nobody really talks about what admiration can do on the flip side, how it can make you measure yourself up, make you feel attached in a way that provides you with a flip flop between intense aspiration to despisal and envy.

Except.. that isn't exactly true. As I pointed out before, Jane casts doubt on her ability to live up to her ancestors legacy, even if it's just a joking legacy.

You fancy yourself a SKILLED PRANKSTRESS, if by no other measure than lineage. Though at times you feel it's tough to fill those shoes when you are SURROUNDED BY JOKERS. Seriously, the shenanigans perpetrated by your pals make your old school japes feel KIND OF PEDESTRIAN SOMETIMES,

Poppop Crocker was a LEGENDARY COMEDIAN, following in the footsteps of his grandfather who of course was the greatest southern pranking legend of all time. One day, you hope to follow in poppop's too.

GG: Maybe I'm just stuck in the dark ages of pranksterism with my funny mustaches corny old joke book.

Jane and Dirks parts are equal parts jokes as it is thinly veiled inner conflict of ideas they have about themselves and their role. Dirk is sort of ironic in how seriously he takes his irony. Which means it's not really as ironic as he thinks it is.

4258 goes hard.

TT: Ever hear of Con Air?GG: Nope.GG: Wait...GG: Wasn't that some bit of action schlock from the 90's?TT: Yes. GG: Some of the silly nonsense referenced in his work was well before my time. I don't have the wherewithal to investigate all this minutia. TT: Yeah, it doesn't matter really. But it was from that. Dude weirdly obsessed over that shit movie for years, among others.TT: Know those signature shades you see him wearing on magazine covers and stuff? Another prop. A gift from Stiller himself, I believe.

You know this seems like an old man gay yaoi issue. Now why EXACTLY dear sir.. were you obsessed with the very movie that your best friend had as a favourite? You know it's tragic. Alpha Dave SHOULDVE banged that old man.

You know one of you guys will have a field day analysing this piece of text and I know it, you know it, so put on your goggles spaceman.

4259

I'm not going to provide screenshots, but this is where Seb starts getting antsy, and Dirk says that Jane will be the leader of their group, drawing parallels to page 2682 where John and Rose are talking about their null session, unable to get any further.

TT: This session was never meant to bear fruit. TT: It's barren, so to speak. EB: that's a bit of a bummer! EB: i am still skeptical about that, though. TT: That's why you're our leader, John. EB: huh? TT: Optimism through stalwart skepticism is a defect not everyone is lucky enough to be cursed with. EB: that's stupid. EB: i'm not your leader, i am your FRIEND, there is a BIG difference! TT: Statements like that are also why you're our leader. EB: pff. EB: laaaaaaaame. TT: Yes, kind of.

But in Dirks, he chooses it because he thinks thats "the thing to do"

TT: I'm sure you must be aware by now that you'll be the leader of our group, as you will be the first to enter the session. GG: Um, no? GG: This is news to me. I never gathered that "team leader" was a thing for this game. TT: Trust me. It's a thing. GG: Are you sure? I have my doubts. GG: I believe as a group we will have the temerity to succeed, without my having to order people around like an insufferable bossypants. TT: That's why you're our leader, Jane. GG: Hm? TT: Optimism through stalwart skepticism is an affect not everyone is plucky enough to be graced with. GG: That's stupid! TT: Yeah yeah. I know. TT: You're not our leader, you're our FRIEND, right? GG: Precisely! GG: There is a BIG difference! TT: And statements like that are also why you're our leader. TT: But only in name and in spirit. Less so, functionally. TT: If it puts your mind at ease, I'll be the one pulling the strings here.

This reads to me a lot as something he orchestrated, something he thought up to look cool, but what's the point of saying all this shit when you say afterwards you're just going to say that she's controlling none of it and really it's just you (which really, in the end it wasn't). Jane points out a pretty good point about there not being a true LEADER leader, and Dirk just plows on. He proceeds to have a long and eyeroll worthy emphasis about how much he can serve, how good he is at it, how Jane only has to call and he'll come to the rescue, not to worry at ALL. I mean i have to laugh. Here he is emphasising how much he can serve and he can't. He can't at all. Pushing someone in a direction does not always equal helping. His suggestions are befitting his aspect sure, but doesn't always mean it's the right solution!

4261-64 moving on.

The dads are always so incredibly endearing. ANd i love when janey does the lil. :| at people like giiirll me too! Absurd whimsy everywhere. Hey look at lil seb g-

4266 OH NO NOT THERE LITTLE SEB!! GOOD LAWRD.

Dad crocker is incredibly funny to me i will tell you why in a hot second

GET IUT JANE!! ALL OF THIS IS MALAAARKEY!! Even now quite a few of her friends are being INCREDIBLY silly to this girl from a normal childhood growing up in a normal time!! Egads!!

Reminds me of the times where I was travelling around ( i travel a lot majority of my friends expect im outside constantly) and they swore i just wasnt real because i show up in random places that contradict each other and go missing for weeks only to be found on some desert island hunting crabs.

But anyways

4271- 4273

Sorry i dont have much to say just imagine me with the goofiest smile on my face.. like <:}... Like ah.. yes.

Nearby, someone or something bleats like a goat for strategic purposes.

And also

Ironic purposes.

.... :} !!!

Look.. heehee... hes so :D!! His bes friend... :3 Silly..

4282 THEY DONE KILLED OFF THE MOST WHIMSICAL GIRL!

4283 ITS SO OVER.

[ END OF ACT 6 ACT 1 ] ?! Hey wait what does this mean for us. hey wait what does this mean hey wai-

[ screen cuts to BLACK with cue card with words "HUSSLE" in comic sans. ]

4299 panel goes hard? So does 4303

JADE: witch powers can teleport things, and fling things around through space at very high velocities JADE: all sorts of stuff! JADE: but to be honest, im not sure how much of that is attributable to inheriting becs abilities... JOHN: man, spacey witch powers sound a lot more versatile than my powers, frankly. JOHN: not that i'm complaining, because wind powers are still awesome. JOHN: but anyway, that is neither here nor there!

I'll leave you on this piece of dialog to consume. I'll see you all in the next part. As always anons and comments are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

#homestuck #hom3stuck #homestuck meta #borzoi meta #borzoi reread #borzoi talks #jane crocker #jake english #dirk strider #john egbert #jade harley

56 notes · View notes

hellzabeth · 3 years

Text

i have opinions about The Prince of Egypt musical adaption and you’re going to listen to them: An Essay

So, quick disclaimer: The Prince of Egypt is one of my favourite movies of all time. The casting, the music, the animation, I think it’s one of the top-tier movies that have ever been made. I went into seeing the London West End production of PoE with a full expectation that nothing I saw on stage would ever live up to how much I love the movie. I was fully aware there are plenty of limitations to what can be shown live on a stage with human actors and props.

That being said, I was enormously disappointed with how the whole thing was handled.

The Good

Now before I launch into a whole tirade of what I didn’t like about the production, it does behoove me to say what I think they did do well.  

The casting of the role of Moses was done fantastically, as was Miriam, Tzipporah, and Yocheved. The swings and the ensemble were really engaged and well placed, going through lots of quick changes to go from Hebrews to Egyptians to Midianites and back. 

The two Egyptian queens, wifes of Seti and Ramses, are actually given names, lines, and character beyond being simply tacked onto their respective kings. We get to see how they feel about the events happening around them, and there’s even a scene where Ramses meets his wife and courts her, whereas in the movie, she stands in the background and says nothing. This is one of the areas I was hoping the musical, which would naturally have a longer run-time, would expand on, and I was pleased to see the opportunity was taken.

Light projections on enormous curtains were used to very good effect, taking us instantly inside the walls of the palace and then out to the desert.  

Over all, the work was really put in to be engaging and emotional, and the orchestra really worked to deliver the right musical beats. 

One of two stand out scenes as being done very well was the opening “Deliver Us”, which included a bone-chilling moment of Egyptians separating a mother and her baby, with her screams as she’s dragged off-stage, and the blood on the guard’s sword. It really brings home the fear as Yocheved tries to lead Aaron and Miriam to the river with her, not to mention Yocheved’s actress nailed the lullaby.  

The second was at the other end of the show, “When You Believe” was beautifully performed by the whole cast, though it was somewhat stunted by what came before...

The Bad

Oh boy.

So the main problem with this show is not the music, not the staging, not even that sometimes the ensemble was a little off-beat (the lai-lai-lai section in Though Heaven’s Eyes comes to mind). Any mistakes there can all be forgiven, since sometimes things just happen in live performance, someone’s a bit off or something’s just not possible to do on the budget allotted.  

The problem is in the script.

The Prince of Egypt movie is a story that stands not only on the shoulders of its fantastic music and visuals, but also on its emotive retelling and portrayal of the characters within - mainly Moses and Ramses. And while the stage musical does spend a lot of time with the two mains, it neglects two other, incredibly important characters.

Pharaoh Seti, and God.  

In the movie, Seti strikes an intimidating figure. He is old, hardened, and wise in the ways of ruling his kingdom - and is voiced by Patrick Stewart, who brings his A-game to the role. Both Moses and Ramses admire him and look up to him immensely as young men, and the relationship he has with both of them deeply informs their characters as the story progresses. It’s from Seti that Moses learns that taking responsibility for your actions is the respectable thing to do (and later, the true horror of having your idol turn out to be not what you think), and it’s from Seti that Ramses takes a huge inferiority complex.

There are two lines that Seti gets in the movie, one spoken to Moses, and one to Ramses. These two lines define Moses and Ramses’ actions later on in the story:

To Ramses - “One weak link can break the chain of a mighty dynasty!” To Moses - “Oh my son... they were only slaves.”

Guess which two lines are absent from the musical?

One Weak Link is turned into an upbeat song, rather than shouted at a terrified and cowed young Ramses. Instead of being openly a traumatic, internalised moment of negative character development for Ramses, it’s treated as a general philosophy that Seti passes down to his son. Instead of a judgement that is hung over Ramses’ head like a sword of Damocles, lingering in his mind through the whole story and coming up in a shouted argument with Moses later, it’s said and then moved on from.  

The “they were only slaves” comment, on the other hand, is absent entirely. This changes Moses’ relationship with Seti enormously, as well as his relationship with the Hebrew people. Upon finding the mural depicting the killing of the slave children, Moses is appropriately horrified, and Seti shows up to comfort him and defend his terrible actions. Moses leaves this interaction... and then sings about how this is indeed all he ever wanted! He has no moment of horrific realisation that his father thinks of the slaves as lesser, as lives that can be thrown away. This means that the scene where he kills the guard doesn’t lead into a discussion of morality with Ramses as he runs away, but rather Moses breaking down about his heritage as though it’s a negative, instead of something he’s realised is just as valuable as his life as an Egyptian. Instead of Moses being shown as having a strong moral core that protests against the idea of any life being lesser, he bemoans his Hebrew blood loudly, and makes little mention of the man he killed. His issue that causes him to run away is being adopted, rather than his guilt that he’s a murderer, and nothing Ramses can say will change it.

Later on, we don’t see Ramses express this opinion either (in the movie - M:”Seti’s hands bore the blood of thousands of children!” R:“Hah, slaves!” M:“My people!”) so it seems the core reasoning for the necessity of the extremes God had to go to in order to convince Ramses to let the Hebrews go is completely gone.

Which leads us into God Himself, as a character.  

God is a tricky topic in general. He is hard to talk about as a concept and as a character, and even harder to depict in a way that won’t offend someone. The Prince of Egypt movie always struck me as a very good depiction of the Old Testament God - vengeful and strong-willed, commanding and yet nurturing, capable of great mercy and great cruelty in one fell swoop. God is incredibly present in the story, a character in and of Himself, speaking with Moses rather than simply commanding him. The conversation at the Burning Bush is bone-chillingly beautiful. Moses is allowed to question, he’s allowed to enquire, he’s allowed to express how he feels about God’s choice, and God is given the chance to respond (and reprimand, and comfort).

In the musical, the Burning Bush scene lasts all of two minutes, during which God (the ensemble cast, acting as one moving flame, speaking in unison) monologues to Moses, and Moses is not given room to question, talk to, or build a relationship with God. Later on, once some of the plagues have gotten underway, Moses rails against God, flinches in his resolve, and tries to back out... and God says nothing. It’s Miriam and the spirit of Yocheved that convince Moses to keep going. As a character, God is nearly absent. Even when it comes to calling upon the Plagues, or parting the Red Sea, God’s voice is absent. Moses does not pray. He does not even use the staff that God encouraged him to pick up as a symbol of his becoming a shepherd of the Hebrews out of Egypt.  

It’s these little changes, these little absences of such vital lines and presences, that ends up changing the whole vibe of the show. Seti is more like a dad than an emotionally distant authority figure, and God is more like an emotionally distant authority figure than a character at all. Ultimately, the whole feeling that one is left with at the end…

The Ugly

… is that the script doesn’t like God, or religion in general.

A bold statement to make, considering the source material is one of the central biblical stories in EVERY Abrahamic religion. Moses as a figure is considered so important and close to god, that The Prince of Egypt, even with its sensitive portrayal, cannot be aired in a number of Islamic states, because it’s considered disrespectful to depict any of the prophets, especially an important one like Moses. Moses is arguably the MOST important prophet in the Jewish canon.

However, I haven’t highlighted one of the most noticeable script changes - the elevation of Hotep, the high priest, to main antagonist.

In the original movie, Hotep is a secondary villain, a crony to the Pharaohs, bumbling and snide and two-faced. He and his fellow priest Hoy are there primarily to juxtapose how charlatans can control power through flattery and slight of hand, reassuring Ramses that Moses’ miracles are merely magic the same as what they can do. They even get a whole villain song, “Playing With The Big Boys” which is a lovely deconstruction of lyrics vs visuals, where while the priests boast that their gods and magic are much more powerful, in the background the staff, transformed into a snake by god, devours and defeats the priests’ snake handily. The takeaway from the song is that God’s power is true, and doesn’t need theatrics.

It’s a good little nugget of wordless world building. And it is completely absent from the stage musical, with only a vague reference to the chant of all the gods names.

Hoy is gone, and Hotep is the only priest. He actively speaks out against the Pharaoh, boasts about having all the power, and is played as bombastic and proud. He’s a wildly different character, even threatening Ramses at one point. In the end, it’s shown that Ramses won’t let the Hebrews go not because he has inherited his father Seti’s cruel attitude towards the lives he considers beneath him, but because he is being actively bullied by the priest, and will lose his power and credibility if he doesn’t do as he’s told. Ramses is even given a whole song about how little power he really has. The script desperately wants us to feel sorry for Ramses’ position and hate the unrepentantly, cartoonishly evil priest.

That’s another matter as well - a LOT of time is dedicated to making the Egyptians more human and sympathetic, portraying them as largely ignorant of the suffering beneath them, rather than actively participating in slavery. Characters speak out of turn without regard for formality and class, even to the royal family. They are casual, chummy even. And this would be fine - in fact, it’s good to have that sort of third dimension to characters, even ones who are doing reprehensible things, to show the total normalcy and banality of evil - if it were not for the fact they still include a completely open-and-shut case of evil right next to them.

Hotep has no redeeming features. And on the other side, God is barely present, certainly not in a relatable context. Moses has several lines about how cruel and unnecessary God’s plagues are - and you know what, in this version, they are unnecessary! Ramses is not the stone-hearted ruler that his movie counterpart is, he has no baggage over being a potential failure, because it was never really given to him in the same way! By taking away Ramses’ threatening nature, numbers like the Plagues lose half their appeal, as the back-and-forth ‘you who I called brother’ lines between Moses and Ramses are completely absent. Moses is faithless, and is less torn between the horror of what he’s doing and the necessity of it for the freedom of his people, and more left scrabbling for meaning that he doesn’t find. And the only thing hanging over Ramses is Hotep nit-picking everything he does and threatening him, which is considerably less compelling than the script seems to think it is.

This is best exemplified at the end, when all the issues come to a head. The angel of Death comes and takes the Egyptian first borns (which was actually a well done scene), and the Hebrews leave to a rousing rendition of When You Believe. But then we cut to Ramses and Hotep, with Hotep openly threatening to revolt against the Pharaoh - whom was believed, especially by the priesthood, to be a living god! Hotep is so devoid of redeeming features he cannot even be trusted to stand by his beliefs! - unless Ramses agrees to chase after the Hebrews. Reluctantly, Ramses is badgered into the attempt.

Back with the Hebrews, Moses parts the Red Sea… not with his faith, not by praying to God for another miracle, not even by using his staff as in the most famous scene of the movie… but by holding out his hand and demanding the ‘magic’ work. Setting aside the disrespect of Abrahamic religions to call one of the most famous miracles “magic” (and my oh my, if there was a fundamentalist of any religion in the audience they might have gasped to hear it), it again belittles the work of God, and puts all the onus on Moses, not as a conduit for God’s work, but as the worker himself. Then, the Egyptians arrive in pursuit, lead by Hotep, not Ramses. Moses sends the Hebrews through first, lead by Miriam, and stays behind with Tzipporah… to offer his life in penance to Ramses! The script has completely stripped both Ramses and Moses of their convictions towards their causes, and Moses cannot even stand by his decision to lead his people.

Then, in a moment of jarring melodrama, Moses has a sudden vision that Ramses, his brother, will one day be called Ramses the Great (an actual historical Pharaoh who reigned 1279-1213 BCE). There is no historical evidence that this was the Ramses that ruled over the Hebrews (there are 11 Pharaohs called Ramses through the history of Ancient Egypt), and maybe if the scene was acted a little better, it wouldn’t have been so sudden or jarring. Even more jarring, is that then Hotep arrives with the rest of the army, and Ramses refuses to lead the charge into the parted sea. Hotep does so himself, and is the one to have the final dramatic moment, being crushed under the water.

The Takeaway

After watching the show, I’m afraid I could never recommend it as either a play, an adaption, or even as a faithful retelling of a bible story. Its character drama isn’t compelling enough to be good as a standalone play, with it two main characters declawed and their core motivations reduced to a squabble between brothers rather than a grand interplay between two cultures and ideas and trauma handed down from their father. As an adaption of the movie it’s upsettingly bad, with grand numbers like the Plagues rendered piecemeal and fan favourites like Playing With The Big Boys missing entirely. As a retelling of the bible story, it’s insulting, completely cutting God out of the equation, taking no opportunity to reintroduce Aaron as an important character (which he was, in the bible, as Moses was a notoriously bad public speaker, with a stutter, and Aaron often interpreted for him) and more importantly, completely erasing God’s influence from the narrative.

I don’t know who this show was… for, in that case. If it wasn’t for drama lovers, movie fans, or people of the faith, then who the hell was it for? Why change such a critically acclaimed and well-beloved story? Why take away all these defining moments? If you wanted to tell a story about how religion is the true evil, how God can command people to do terrible things, and how those who uphold organised religion like Hotep are unrepentant, one-dimensional monsters… why would you tell that through the Prince of Egypt?

Underwhelming at best, infuriating at worst… just watch the movie. Or read Exodus. At least the Bible’s free.

#the prince of egypt #the prince of egypt musical #PoE #review #essay

67 notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 4

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. Bullying and non-explicit violence in this chapter, Peter whump.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: WE'VE GOT PLOT! Peter Parker deserves better. Steeb needs a vibe check cuz he keeps failing them :( Boomers are hot but ... Boomers. KitKat, anyone? Natasha is a Brain Cell™. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @hermione-grangers-wife @downeyreads @individualistfem

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings 👑 - titty gators assemble! 👀

I scheduled a visit to the tower two days after my "illness" episode. Most of my lows passed without any lingering, the headache was gone and so was the nausea. My mood was still somewhere between "please kill me" and "I could eat a lot of cake right now" but it was bearable. I was very much looking forward to occupying myself with the project if only to divert my focus from overthinking about my own misery.

Peter said he was going to see Tony straight after school and offered for me to tag along with him: Tony sent his driver to pick up the boy. I didn't have the heart to refuse, seeing no point in waiting for an Uber on a rainy workday afternoon. Traffic was horrendous in New York city no matter the weather but a downpour took the congestions to a new height.

When I spotted the sleek, black brand new Audi I made a beeline for it, waving to Happy as I crawled inside as fast as I could. "Don't get the seats wet," The chauffeur grumbled.

"It's wet outside," I rolled my eyes into the next dimension. Whoever thought his nickname was in any way appropriate needed a psych eval. Peter sat on my right side looking wet and downright miserable. I had to swallow a string of expletives at the sight in front of me: the entirety of Peter's right cheek was an ugly shade of blue, eye on it's way to swelling shut and lip busted open. "What in the everliving fuck happened to you?!" Breathing through my nose, I fought bubbling rage inside of me. Peter looked like he went toe to toe with a Hulk.

"Flash happened," The boy mumbled, whining and brooding simultaneously. His cheeks glowed.

"That little runt?" I took another pause to steady my breathing, tentatively reaching out for Peter's hand. He grasped it tightly in gratitude. "Well, did you at least fight back?"

"No, I... I can't do that," Peter became even smaller, curling into the seat and in himself. I was disappointed for sure as I wouldn't just stand there and take a beating, but Pete was different. He was sensitive-a total pacifist to boot.

"Do any of the teachers know? I'm guessing this isn't the first time," Sure, I've seen Parker with an occasional scrape or a bruise but I'd always figured it was just him being a teenage nuisance. Curtain of depression I had over the previous days slowly began morphing into cold fury.

"No, well, they probably do. But Flash is the principal's son so they ignore it, I guess," Peter sighed in defeat. "Mr. Stark doesn't know either. Please don't tell him," He begged.

"Abuse thrives in silence," I parroted our sex-ed teacher but otherwise made no promises. My mind raced between comforting Peter and ordering Happy to turn the car around so I could find the shitty excuse of a human named Flash Thompson and violently make it known what happens to people when they get me pissed off.

"What are you going to tell Tony?" I asked Peter as we herded into the elevator, slightly wet and mostly miserable.

"I have an idea or two," The boy answered darkly.

"You have been summoned to the common floor, I was instructed to notify you there is food to be eaten before sciencing, per Doctor Banner's orders," Friday announced, rerouting the elevator to the aforementioned destination. Peter groaned loudly, burying his face in his hands.

"What the fuck happened to you, kid?" Bucky decided screeching like a banshee and attracting at least five of his teammates to come running from the dining room was the best way to approach an obviously spooked Peter. The boy shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"Our classmate beat him up," I answered before Pete could lie. "The fucking runt that doesn't know his damn place. His two cronies probably too," The venom in my voice could've melted steel. I was genuinely furious.

"What's his name?" Captain-Steve growled. I was taken aback at the large blonde man suddenly standing up, fists clenched. My feet moved involuntarily, taking a step back from the enraged supersoldier and Pete cowered, startled.

I stepped in front of him immediately. "I'm gonna need you to chill the fuck down, Cap," The trembling in my voice persisted but I stood my ground nonetheless. "Your roid rage is going to land you in prison if you keep going," In my own rage, self-preservation went out of the window along with common sense. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up, Peter was downright shaking behind me.

"She's right," Bucky darkly eyed his friend. "Off to the sparring mats with you." He grabbed Rogers by the shoulder with his prosthetic arm all but hauling the blonde towards the elevator. Thor immediately took the Captain's other side, not quite touching him but obviously giving his friend a vibe check. I could've clapped. Not that Steve resisted much, but still.

"Everyone calm down, please," The Black Widow piped up in an even tone. I can always count on a fellow woman to keep calm in a situation where men's tempers almost cause a disaster. "Now, tell us what happened," She approached Peter on quiet feet. The boy shuffled around me looking every bit as dejected as I felt about the situation. "And someone fetch some ice for that bruise," Romanoff's offhand gesture had Barton scrambling into the kitchen.

Peter sat down on the couch, looking at the floor. "Flash has been bothering me since, like, forever and today I just ignored his usual remarks because I had a calculus test, I- I wanted to make sure I knew everything, and I was sitting in a really quiet corner, and I- Ned was hanging out with MJ somewhere and I guess Flash got angry that I didn't answer," Peter rambled in his usual nervous fashion, sentences jumbling together. Natasha kept nodding, simply hugging the boy softly with one arm. As soon as Clint came back with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel Natasha's other arm pressed it gently to Peter's bruised face. The assassin frowned at the pained whine that left Peter's lips.

"Honestly, that dude is a fucking piece of shit, I'm surprised how he's not in jail yet," I piped up from where I was pacing along the large window overlooking the city skyline. Wound up and tense, I couldn't stay still. "He stole a senior's car for a joyride, last year. He routinely picks on the freshmen and I've personally dislocated his wrist from slapping me on the ass in, like, eight grade," Peter's eyebrows raised at my admission and Natasha gave me a vaguely approving hum.

I caught Peter's eye the moment elevator doors opened revealing a panicked looking Tony and a worried Bruce with Loki standing behind them, talking to a man in... Robes? And a red cape?

"What happened to my science child?!" Tony's fury rang high. The engineer rushed over to Peter, frantically checking him over and growling at the state of his face, letting out a string of expletives seeing the busted lip had started to bleed again.

I gave a tiny tilt of my lips to Bruce who had the oddest compilation of worried, confused and amused in his expression.

"You should probably get him to a doctor, I think his mouth is cut on the inside," I scooted closer to Banner, informing him quietly.

"I'm a doctor," The man in the cape announced, ... strutting (!) over to Pete. There was really no other way to describe his long, precise strides. He quickly butted Tony out of the way and instructed Peter to open his mouth.

"This is utter chaos," Loki muttered, sitting down on the furthest end of the couch.

"It is and I'm living for it," I sighed. The situation was very disorganized with Tony flailing about in blind panic, Bruce just standing there, Cap's rage quit and subsequent intervention by his buddies. Then the new strange dude... Loki was brooding and honestly? Big mood. The only person who made some resemblance of order out if this cluster fuck was Natasha.

All and all, it was quite endearing. I imagined that's what a large, close family would look like. When I said I was enjoying myself - no lie there, even despite the grim situation.

"How are you? Are you hurt?" Bruce quietly asked me, laced with concern. His shoulders relaxed somewhat when I shook my head negative. "Hungry?" I nodded affirmatively and the doctor produced a kit kat bar seemingly out of nowhere, winking at me with a boyish smile. I just about melted on the spot, tearing off a block and giving it to him to avoid any embarrassing reactions I might possibly spout in the wake of my recently acquired crush.

We munched in silence as the Cape Guy explained to Peter (and anxious Tony) that a few butterfly stitches would be needed as well as CT scan to rule out a possible concussion. At that point Tony was steadily turning purple in colour, rage and anxiety combining for a large storm that no doubt will hit sooner or later.

I felt responsible, I guess. Peter must've known Tony was going to react so strongly to his science son getting hurt and well, I hated seeing Tony so mad and helpless. On soft feet, I padded over to the engineer, making sure to stay within direct line of vision. "Tones?" He shot his eyes at me. He was furious. "Look, I'm going to make that fucker's life a living hell," Tony made an agitated noise of protest however I wasn't having it. I knew I'd be in trouble later but for now, I firmly placed my palm over his mouth, enjoying the surprised widening of his eyes at the frivolous gesture. "Listen, right now you can't do shit. You guys are super-powered individuals and Flash is just a nasty kid. You'll get in a big fat mess and he'll get to go away with a slap on the wrist," Tony sagged, visibly, bodily, and I felt it was safe to remove my hand from his face.

"I hate to say it but she's right," Bruce piped up behind me, voice soft.

I nodded. "I'm going to ruin the guy without putting a single finger on him," Tony nodded grimly and Cape Guy halted his examination of Peter's head to give me a mildly concerned stare. "My mother is a litigator, a vicious one at that. I've learned a trick or two," I winked with a grim sort of amusement causing the man to snort. Tony chuckled humorlessly. "As much as I hate to be the voice of reason, it would be a shame for anybody in this tower to end up behind bars. Even if it would be for a good cause," I finished my speech, patting Tony on the shoulder. The surprised squeak made its way out of my mouth when the billionaire pulled me tight against his chest, wrapping his arms around me in a desperate hug.

Ignoring my skyrocketing heartbeat, I wrapped myself around him as best as I could. Whatever issues the man had, they had to be quite painful if he reacted to the situation so intensely. I was selfish, but not heartless, so I gave into the affectionate gesture despite the inappropriate feelings that blossomed within me.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve you," Peter whined, fat round tears beginning to drip down his cheeks. I could tell he was embarrassed beyond Hell but his feelings overwhelmed him enough to just spill through. I immediately made my meanest big eyes to Natasha and Cape Guy who immediately hugged the life out of Pete. There, all set.

"Now go get that scan done," I frowned, seeing Peter start to nod off. "I don't know your name, but can you arrange that? Since you're a doctor," I nodded to the Cape Guy.

"I'm Stephen Strange," he replied, effortlessly picking up a dozing Peter and carrying him to the elevator. Before I could react, he waved his one free hand in some sort of a circle and a glowing ring appeared with what seemed to be a ER room - Strange hastily stepped through, followed by Tony suddenly withdrawing and hurrying after the ... Wizard? The portal closed immediately after.

"What the fuuuuuck..." I gaped at the now empty space. Strange, indeed. Even Loki's scoff didn't put a dent in my perplexed curiosity.

"So, lawyer family, huh?" Natasha, who I'd forgotten about, spoke up, mildly interested.

"Just my mother," I replied casually. They were the last thing in the world I wanted to talk about, especially after being so upset for the past hour. Man, I needed a drink. My hands itched for a cigarette.

"What about your father?" The spy didn't relent, pushing the issue with deadly politeness - I was actually sure she'd threaten me into talking about it even if I refused to.

"He's a celebrity manager."

"Cool," Her tone perked up at that. "Know anyone famous?"

"Know? No," I thought about all the A-list Hollywood stars I've been around, the endless parade of one-hit-wonder musicians that my dad hung out with on a daily basis. "I've crossed paths with at least half the Billboard TOP 40 but that's about it. Katy Perry was really nice," I added as an afterthought.

"I see," Natasha gave me a thoughtful once-over, patting the seat next to her. "So tell me, what do you have in mind for this Flash kid?"

My smile came out sharp and vicious. People tended to underestimate the quiet, quirky loner and I was about to remind them exactly why my kind of kids usually ended up with either millions in their bank accounts or a lengthy criminal record. "I'm going to annihilate any chance he has with having a social life, a girlfriend and I'll be damned if he gets into college without his parents going bankrupt. It goes like this..."

The ominous beginning of my plan attracted everybody in the room, even Loki. If anything, he offered the most constructive advice and the smirk he wore was positively devilish. Steve, Bucky and Thor emerged sometime during the scheming and hastily joined us, identically grim expressions on their faces. We barely managed to get done with our nefarious cackling when a portal appeared once again, Stephen stepping out of it with Tony carrying a sleeping Peter. The boy's head was bandaged, he looked like a mummy.

I stood up, beelining for Tony. "Is Pete okay? Did you call May?"

"He's not concussed but he's taking the day off tomorrow. Yes, I called May. Pete is staying here tonight," Tony looked and sounded like an exhausted, worried parent.

The urge to squee appeared again and I stomped it down with a hard "Good. We made a plan. The fucker is going to choke on his own misery," I gestured to the people sitting in a circle behind me.

Strange snorted.

Furious. I was furious.

Hands on my hips, I swerved towards him, instantly recognizing the ridiculousness of the situation. Here I stood, an eighteen year old high school student, in my fluffy rainbow sweater and denim overalls, staring down a whole grown ass man with magic powers. I digress, my pride won the race against my common sense. "Ex-fucking-cuse you, Voldemort, that's my fucking friend on the line," I seethed, giving him my best death glare.

"Language," Tony barely held together his laughter, looking at the unfolding mess with amusement. Somewhere behind me, somebody chuckled, then I recognised Loki's signature "ehehe" and it kind of went downhill from there. It's a miracle Peter didn't wake up.

"I'd be careful, Strange, she holds up against Stark very well," Loki's quiet compliment only made me preen and puff out my chest in a display of dominance. Stephen's responding eye roll was more fond than annoyed. I counted it as a win.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #bun writes #party favours #repeat after me: PETER PARKER DESERVES BETTER

163 notes · View notes

sarasapen · 4 years

Text

White Roses and Scarlet Letters

Been awhile since I’ve posted or updated due to exams so I’m reposting the first four chapters because why not!

@jason-todd-squad @lucy-roo @rockyrocket15 @toleble @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @belovedbratwonder @aprilchagoyaaa @vespertxne @thatwaspossesion @attackonnat @roseangel013bf

Red Roses and Scarlet Letters

----- Like most people, your life had a routine. You’d wake up early and go for a jog or do some yoga, depending on the weather. Then you’d spend a half hour on your phone, before you glanced at the clock and scrambled to get ready on time. You normally met Dick for breakfast before making your way to work.

Generally, your nights and weekends were more entertaining. You spent your nights donning a domino mask and Kevlar, punching assholes and stopping crime. Saturdays were sleepover nights with Damian, and Sundays were girls’ days.

So, considering you were standing on a rooftop with dead bodies littered around you when you were supposed to be watching a movie, you were not happy.

“Robin, come to my coordinates.”

“Tt.”

You smile slightly, rolling your eyes before you turned your head, catching sight of a man with a red hood and a symbol on his chest. You eyed the symbol skeptically. “I didn’t know the Bats had a new associate.”

The man remained silent, staring you down. His fingers twitched, and you noticed the gun holsters on his thighs. Two guns. Five dead bodies. He had seven bullets left. Okay, so maybe Bruce didn’t have a new associate.

“You gonna threaten me, or shoot me?” You say nonchalantly, gripping your escrima sticks. He moves quickly, and you’re darting to the side before you fully internalise he’s pulling the trigger.

“Alright then,” you huff dryly. “Guess you’re shooting me.” He raises the gun again, and you backflip away from the next bullets, lunging in his direction. Five. Four. Three. The next bullet snags your cape- two- and you swing your leg and attempt to knock him back. He dodges the kick and intercepts your path, moving to flip you. You kick back off the wall, using that as leverage to swing your body around his. You slam your escrima stick into the back of his head the same time his fist comes into contact with your jaw. You slip from his body, and he used the opportunity to kick at your ribs, sending you stumbling. He lunges at you, causing you to slam against the wall. One of his hands is around your throat, cutting off your air supply, and the other is holding his loaded gun, pressed against your temple. You know you can easily break his arm from the position, but for some reason, you can’t seem to move. Even through his voice modulator, the man’s anger is clear when he speaks, the words he growls out making your blood run cold.

“You let Jason Todd die.”

Your eyes widen and you’re going to swing out but instead of shooting you, he drops the gun and slams you back into the wall, your head hitting the wall with a loud CRACK-

-and then all you see is black.

-----

The first thing you register is the pounding in your head.

You groggily try to sit up and wince at the bright lights. A hand on your shoulder pushes you back down- what? No, you need to get up, you need to-

“Lie down.” A voice commands and your body goes limp. The figure looks funny. He looks like a bat. And a man. Hey! Batman!

A whine emerges from your throat as your face scrunches up.

“I don’t wanna,” you protest weakly, trying to get up again. Your voice comes out scratchy, and your throat hurts when you talk. Suddenly there are two hands on both of your shoulders, keeping you on the bed.

“Do you want Alfred to scold?” The voice softens slightly. You shake your head, wincing when it hurts. Fingers dance along your hairline, soothing you.

“Rest. Once you’re better, the family’s going to have a chat.”

“Mkay,” you wrap your fingers around the wrist above your head, and you let sleep overtake you.

-----

When you wake up, you’re alone. Well, for approximately 0.3 seconds before Alfred enters through the door. He’s carrying some meds and soup. He stands over you, making sure you finish every last drop even though your throat hurts like a bitch.

You manage to convince him you’re fine, with Barbara's help, before you spend a good hour or so on trying to conceal the bruises on your neck.

Barbara drives you and the girls to Metropolis to pick up Kara before heading to Central City. Despite all the fun the others seem to be having, you can’t take your mind off the previous night, or off Jason. You had no idea who that man was, or how he knew you were connected to Jason.

The weight of Jason’s death had weighed down on you somewhat heavier than the rest of your family. Bruce became reckless, and almost killed multiple times. Dick went off the grid for 6 whole months, and when he returned, he acted like nothing had happened. No one knows what he did or where he went. Barbara stopped coming to the cave. She still went out on patrol, but didn’t talk to you. Alfred assumed you needed some space, so he gave you that.

As your family pulled away, you started falling into the dark abyss of depression. You resorted to self harm as a way of coping. After Alfred inquiring on your long-sleeves, you moved the cuts to your thighs. You fell so deep into the hole that one day, you grabbed some sleeping pills and swallowed about 20. Alfred noticed the bottle was empty, and he rushed to your bedroom in time.

That was around the time Tim popped up as Robin.

Despite trying to help you, your family never quite understood you. Perhaps Bruce did, better than the two of thought, but Bruce was rarely one to talk about his emotions. When Jason died, you felt like you were to blame. You were quite literally the Batgirl to his Robin. You always patrolled together, always hung around, plotting the next prank to pull on Dick. Considering the two of you were practically inseparable, you felt so damn guilty that Jason went to the warehouse himself. You should’ve gone with him. Maybe if you had gone with him, he would have still been alive.

The guilt had been gnawing at you for five years. There wasn’t a single damn day that you didn’t miss Jason. The day he died, you had furiously scribbled a letter that was about 5 pages long, listing all the reasons you hated him. You were angry, and you wanted to make sure he knew you were angry. The next day, you wrote a tear stained letter saying you loved him, and you were sorry for everything.

You then wrote him letters, one for every day that passed. This time, Day 1564, you reccounted the Red Hood guy occurrence, before telling him about this cute waiter that Dick said had been flirting with you at the cafe. You asked him, rhetorically, if you should go for it. You signed off as usual, saying you loved and missed him.

You slipped the letter into a red envelope, making your way to the garden of Wayne Manor. You couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched, but then you remembered Bruce had tinkered with the security, so that was probably it.

You moved towards the rose bushes, and eased your way into the tiny opening in between the white rose bushes. You grabbed a long wooden box you had been stashing there, slipping the latest letter inside. You shut it, placing it back in the bush, before you straightened.

Shoving your hands into your jacket pockets, you made your way to the living room, where Bruce was trying to get everyone’s attention.

“I have some information pertaining to the Red Hood. We all need to talk.”

-----

And So the Sky Shall Weep

-----

“We all need to talk.” Bruce moves to the grandfather clock, adjusting the time on it. The door swings open, and he goes in, beckoning for you to follow. Bruce stops in front of the Batcomputer, his face hard.

“You may want to sit down,” Bruce gestures to you, Barbara and Dick. Barbara complies, and Dick leans against the table. You do the same, crossing your arms. What could possibly be so shocking that Bruce wants you to sit down?

Bruce turns on the computer screen, and you hear Dick swear beside you. Barbara buries her head in her hand, letting out a choked ‘Oh my god’. Tim and Damian stop poking each other and pause. You seem to be the only one that’s got their shit together, but by the way Bruce is looking at you, you feel yourself unravelling and quick.

Because on the screen, bold and bright as day, the dna samples of Jason Todd and the Red Hood were a 100% match. That could only mean one thing.

“He’s alive?” Dick croaks, eyes shining with unshed tears. Bruce gave Dick a brisk nod as he placed a hand on Barbara’s shoulder.

“This concerns me how?” Damian drawls, earning a well deserved shove from Tim. Damian of course, retaliates, but Bruce ignores them. His eyes are trained on you, obviously concerned at how you’ve just frozen up.

“He’s dead.” You say, voice too loud and too far away.

“He’s alive-“ Bruce starts gently, but you cut him off.

“No!” You don’t realise you’re shouting until your throat burns painfully. That doesn’t seem to deter you though.“He’s dead! I saw his body! He can’t- he’s dead.”

You don’t want to believe Bruce, don’t want to believe the test. “It’s faulty,” you say.

“I sent it to seven different labs, all of them came back with the same report,” Bruce soothes. You’re trembling, and Bruce reaches out to touch you. You push him away, walking backwards.

“I- I need to think.”

You sprint out of the Batcave, pushing past Alfred and out the door, getting on your bike and driving past the gate faster than you thought was possible. There was a strange sort of numbness that overwhelmed you, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the dam that held your feelings back broke. And you’re pretty sure you didn’t want to be around others when that happened.

You were unlocking the door of your apartment without properly registering it, your body moving on its own to put on your suit and grab your escrima sticks. Next thing you know, you’re on the roof of your building. Your eyes scan the skyline of Gotham, and you inhale deeply, letting the cool night air surround you. In. Out. In. Out. In-The rumble of clouds overhead breaks your focus, and you suddenly find yourself running.

You don’t know what you’re running from - or towards - but you just kept running. You leaped over the gaps in the buildings, hopping over ledges and power lines. Tears begin to blur your vision, but you don’t stop running. You regret that decision as soon as you trip over a plank of wood, flying forward. Luckily, or unluckily, the building had a ledge, which meant that instead of falling down 20 stories, your stomach collided with the ledge.

Hot tears fell from your eyes, and you didn’t bother trying to hold them back. You gripped the edge of the ledge tightly, your chest heaving as you choked on a sob. Lightning cracked nearby, and rain followed a millisecond later.

Five years. Five goddamn years. You mourned him for five years, you felt all that pain, all that guilt, and he was alive? You knew you were screaming when you felt your throat burn.

Screaming didn’t alleviate the weight on your chest, so you lifted your fist and brought it down on the concrete. The pain was shooting up your arm, but that didn’t stop you from hitting the ledge again. You felt like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum, frustrated and angry and sad, and having no clue on how to handle the situation. You screamed again, shoving the ledge and hitting it as if it could solve the problem.

Black gloves hands encircled you, gripping your wrists tightly and preventing you from hitting out. You thrashed in the hold, kicking out uselessly.

“You’ll hurt yourself!” Bruce’s voice came through. He hadn’t switched on his voice modulator.

“I don’t care!” You punctuated each word with a shove, but you slumped into his chest, closing your eyes. You’re sobs died down as Bruce held you, and you let the rain lull you to sleep.

-----

Love is Slowly Losing Your Mind

-----

Tick.

You can’t see.

Tock.

You can’t move.

Tick.

You can’t breathe.

Tock.

You hear footsteps.

Tick.

“She’s finally awake!”

Tock

You know that voice.

Tick

“Decided to join the party eh?”

Tock

Its always that voice.

Tick.

A cloth is ripped away from your face.

Tock.

Red lips smile right in front of you.

Tick.

Fuck.

Tock.

“Let’s play.”

Tick.

Your eyes snap open. You can’t breathe, you can’t move.

It was just a dream. You force yourself to close your eyes, focusing on the whirring of the fan above you as you calm your breathing. Just a dream, you tell yourself.

You sit up, pulling your hair into a ponytail and heading over to the bathroom. You brush your teeth, wash your face, and look in the mirror.

He can’t hurt you anymore.

You dress and go to the cafe, arriving half an hour early. A waitress places some coffee in front of you and you thank her with a smile. You don’t drink the coffee though.

The sound of the chair scraping on the floor causes you to look up, and Dick smiles down at you. Except this time, his smile isn’t genuine, it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks tired, and worn down, something that shocks you a little. Dick isn’t normally one to be anything less that happy.

He sits across you, swallowing, eyes darting anywhere but your face. When the waitress placed your usuals down, neither of you make a move to eat.

“So,” he starts, voice rough. He clears his throat, sighing heavily and running a hand across his face.

“So,” you agree, picking up your cup and lifting it to your mouth. You wrinkle your nose at the now cold beverage. You make eye contact with Dick and the unspoken question hangs in the air.

Now what?

He’s a mob boss, Dick’s raised eyebrow says.

He’s dangerous, your frown responds.

He almost killed you, Dick slumps further into his seat, eyes never leaving yours.

“He’s family,” you say, voice quiet. Dick closes his eyes for a moment. “Yeah. He is.”

You don’t say much else, and you part to go to your respective jobs. You reach your office, and there are no new cases or any overdue paperwork to deal with, which is a first. Your boss tells you to take the rest of the day off, so you do.

You walk around Gotham for hours, only going back home when the sun begins to set. You contemplate skipping patrol, but you know you need the exercise.

Suddenly you were 10 years old again, clinging onto Dick’s hand before your first patrol.

There’s nothing to be scared about, you rationalise. Absolutely nothing.

You were wrong.

You don’t make it very far, just two blocks away from your apartment, when you see the Red Hood.

-----

When Can I See You Again?

-----

You stumble onto the roof, fisting your cape on your side. He’s leaning against the edge of the building, his arms crossed. He seems to be watching you, or waiting for you, whichever it is, you’re not entirely sure.

He watches you for a moment, and you watch him, a voice in your head telling you that there’s no way in hell that’s Jason Todd.

Red Hood pushed himself off the wall, striding towards you and easily towering over you. Your heart is drumming in your ears, with him being so close to you that you can smell him, and the doubt begins to fade.

The scent is a deep, musky sort of aroma, whiffs of cigarette smoke and alcohol mixing in nicely. It’s strange, reminding you of dark and dingy corners of bars late at night, but at the same time it’s so incredibly him, so incredibly Jason, that you don’t have the heart to deny yourself a little hope anymore.

Especially not with that stupid leather jacket of his, making his arms look so good.

You swallow nervously, tilting your head up to look at him. If either of you move any closer, your chests would be brushing.

And then he moves. He takes a small step closer, one of his hands now on the small of your back and guiding you backwards, into the shadows, until your back touches a wall. You don’t know why your body lets him, why you’re not reacting to him dragging guiding you around.

He’s practically pressed against you, one of his legs between yours, the hand not on your back is resting on the wall on the side of his head. He’s so much taller than you, your head practically looking straight up to look at him.

You hear an intake of breath which could be him about to say something, but then your hands touch his mask gently. He flinches away, body tensing. His hand leaves your back and is suddenly gripping your neck, pressing you against the wall.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve,” he starts, voice gravelly. You don’t care, or seem to have heard him, really, your hands going straight back to his hood. “Take it off.”

“Given’ me orders, huh? Never would’ve thought you-”

“Take the fucking thing off or get your hands off me!” You retort, tugging at his hand around your neck. Surprisingly, you don’t seem to mind it at all. Hood’s eyes narrow and he pulls back very slightly, his hands leaving you. You’re almost disappointed until he pulls his helmet off, dropping it onto the floor. Not a second passes before he’s closed in on you again, this time applying pressure on your neck.

You’re nearly gasping for air, but you don’t struggle or make any attempts to get out of his grasp. Instead, you look at him, memorising his features. His eyes have hardened, a new steel in them that wasn't there before, but somehow they’ve stayed exactly the same. You see his features soften just a little as you breathe out his name, and you watch as his pupils dilate. Jason - it’s so clearly Jason - smirks, his head dipping down to yours. You can feel his breath on your face, your eyes locked onto his.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking your jaw.

“I could destroy you,” he continued, voice soft and eerily soothing. “I could wreck you and ya wouldn’t stand a chance. Could snap this pretty little neck o’ yours.”

A normal person would be trembling, scared shitless in this situation. You… were not normal.

“What’s stopping you then?” You say, voice low and equally calm. You inhaled and god he smelled good.

“Nothin’ if you keep runnin’ that mouth.”

“I’m calling bullshit,” you say, smug under him, despite the fact that he has you pinned and his hand is tight around your throat. He cocks and eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “If you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it that other night.”

“Maybe I’m regretting’ leaving you alive,” he shoots back. You shrug, leaning your head back as if you were extremely comfortable. (Which, for the record, you totally were.) Jason - Red Hood?- lets his forehead rest against your for a moment, your lips almost brushing. You could just… tilt your head up…

With a heavy sigh, he releases you, taking a few steps away from you. He picks up his helmet, back turning towards you, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Next time I’m gonna kill you,” he says, voice not in the least bit threatening.

A sudden urge to touch him again courses through you, and you lunge towards him. His reflexes are still sharp, and he spins around, anticipating an attack. Your body slams into his, and he barely shifts. He only seems to stiffen when you wrap your arms around him. You press your cheek to his chest, breath shaky as you listen to his steady heartbeat. You don’t realise you’re crying until his gloved hand strokes your cheek. His other arm wraps around your shoulders awkwardly, unsure of how to react. You sniffle, arms tightening around him. He seems to get the hint and tightens his grip on you, his touch full of warmth and comfort.

You pull away first, and he avoids your gaze.

“You still gonna try to kill me?” You say, trying to lighten the moment. Your voice comes out a lot weaker than you would’ve liked.

Red Hood straightens up to his full height, staring at you head on.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

75 notes · View notes

gettin-bi-bi-bi · 3 years

Note

Hi. Idk where to start, but basically I hate being queer. At least with being bi I can focus on men and hope I end up with one (i’ll manage if i end up with anyone else though). I am really jealous of afab nonbinary people who transition towards masculinity because it’s more obvious they are not a woman (from an internal POV, and also external I guess) and get the benefits from not being a woman. Also I find depressing to see so many people who are AFAB and not feel connection to womanhood to the point that they feel dysphoric and want to transition. I 100% support all trans and/or nonbinary people, but I feel bad seeing this specific demographic that seems so prevalent in nonbinary spaces. It makes me feel sad and I don’t know what to do.

I sent another anon message some months ago saying I was scared to tell my therapist, but eventually I did and I went really well. My mum also knows i’ve been questioning but doesn’t know about nonbinary genders, I just told her I feel jealous of AFAB people who transition bc they get to escape womanhood, and we’ve been talking about that and how men actually may have it worse in some ways that would affect me if I was one, but even then I can’t help feeling jealous. I hope this makes sense

I’ve been sitting on this message for a while bc honestly I don’t know what to say really or where to begin.

I do understand that you are under some siginificant distress over your queerness, especially related to your gender. Maybe our other mods may wanna add to that later but I would first of all recommend that you seek the help from a resource that specialises in genderqueerness or non-binary genders and trans issues. There are plenty of blogs about that on tumblr as well, I’m sure.

But what really stands out to me are some things you say about afab non-binary people and how they “get the benefits of not being a woman” if they transition towards masculinity and “escape womanhood”. That’s some pretty high-class TERF rhetoric and I don’t know where you got it from but it ain’t okay! It’s transphobic, plain and simple, and you are NOT actually supporting non-binary people when you believe things like that. Trans people and non-binary people are not transitioning to “escape womanhood” and to get some kind of “man-bonus”. If you think trans men or non-binary people (whatever their agab is) have it easier in this world than cis women then you’re wrong.

And, it’s not my place to answer this for you but... if you’re literally jealous of people who are transitioning then I wonder if you’ve thought about the possibility that you might want to transition yourself? Not that jealousy is always an indicator of something you want for yourself but it might be in this case?

The idea that bi people can “focus on” whatever the other binary genders is and thereby opt-out of queerness is also very biphobic by the way and I think you have a lot of work to do regarding your own internalised biphobia.

Like... I really don’t know what else to say because your message is very loaded and emotional and I find it hard to grasp the root of anything here because I think there’s just overall a lot of internalised queerphobia going on. Which I don’t blame you for but it is your responsibility to work through this and I hope you can find the right resources to do that.

Maddie

20 notes · View notes

angelofthequeers · 4 years

Note

How is Zoe's comic racist? (sorry don't mean to question you, genuinely curious) Also, I admit I was also sucked into the salt fic whirlpool, but quickly left after I realized how toxic it was being. Could you also elaborate on GalahadWilder, if it isn't too uncomfortable for you? I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, or ask uncomfortable questions.

I can’t point out everything off the top of my head but the racism (along with everything else but that’s not the focus) is a large part of what made me throw my hands up and write this. And I won’t be answering any more asks about any of this because I just want to get it out there so people know (because of how many people genuinely don’t see it) and then go back to trying to forget that this shit ever existed, rather than dragging out some new fandom drama. Also keep in mind that while I’m West Asian/Arab, I’m also white-passing so if I get anything wrong, I appreciate call-outs. (Also I finally got my laptop charger today so I can snip my posts again 😭)

Her treatment of Max in ‘Gamer’.

It’s not unique to her; it’s a very common salter thing to utterly tear into Max for being a “sexist jerk” and daring to underestimate princess Marinette because she’s a girl. Never mind that they canonically aren’t close friends because of Chloé’s bullying, so Max probably had no idea that Marinette’s liked video games all this time, where Adrien is the new boy so it’s just one more thing to learn about him.

It’s especially heinous compared to how the other classmates are treated far more leniently for their own mistakes - they still get salted on but Max, aka the Black boy, always seems to get singled out and held to higher standards. Just look at ‘Chameleon’ and how the other classmates are mildly to moderately attacked by salters but Max gets utterly ripped to shreds because he “should know better”. (Never mind that just because he’s smart doesn’t mean he’s good at human interaction. They just want to attack him).

It also angers me because people like Nathaniel and Ivan are absolved of what they do as akumas (like kidnapping others and literally forcing someone to go on a date with them) because they couldn’t help it, yet Max is literally held responsible for what he did when akumatised (because he dared to go after Princess Marinette) and even for daring to get akumatised in the first place. Both these things just make him a sore loser, apparently.

So SL ‘Gamer’ was the final straw for me, especially with how she characterised Max as a smug arsehole, and it made me so angry that I just exploded to my friends, but I didn’t know how to directly call it out without looking like a petty bitch.

Here’s a post I made about salters and ‘Gamer’ if you’re interested in a more coherent and in-depth thing about it.

Alya’s treatment throughout the whole thing.

In canon, she’s an enthusiastic and passionate girl who sometimes gets carried away and goes too far and who idolises Ladybug because Ladybug stands against evil. Here? She’s treated as the butt of the joke for being so starry-eyed over superheroes that she idolises Scarlet Lady while Marinette mocks her behind her back. Never mind her iconic line of “all that is needed for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing” and this is why she loves Majestia in the first place. Never mind that she loves Ladybug because Ladybug is kind and passionate and strong and creative. Canon Alya wouldn’t want a bar of Scarlet Lady, who just sits around complaining, and yet SL!Alya worships her because...why? Running joke? The only Black girl in the series is treated as a gag to be made fun of by someone who’s supposed to be her best friend, just for the audience’s amusement. Marinette’s probably meant to look funny and relatable here, but she just looks like a major bitch to her new friend. Alya’s flaws are basically blown up and exaggerated for comedic effect, while Marinette in contrast is airbrushed to perfection, with no flaws and no anxiety that was only alleviated in canon by - guess what - being Ladybug.

It’s like Zoe wants to stick to canon while adding her own little “fun” twists for humour, like making Marinette snarky and perfect (which just makes her look like an utter bitch) and in the case of Alya, it does her so dirty that even Lila is more sympathetic. LILA. After SL humiliates Lila, Alya looks doubtful but buys some bullshit excuse so that she can continue to be the Scar-worshipping idiot. And then in the aftermath, her concern isn’t for Lila, the girl who was humiliated and bullied by a literal superhero and then ended up sick. No, she’s angry because...Lila lied on her blog. The blog that doesn’t have nearly as much recognition as in canon because SL would never validate her, unlike Ladybug. So her passion for her blog is exaggerated to imply that she’d say that a girl deserves to be bullied and sick because she told a few lies (since at this point, Alya doesn’t know about any possible malice on Lila’s part, just as in canon. All that’s known is the lying for attention).

It’s horrible hypocrisy, where Alya is held to higher standards than the other (white) characters and when she fails to meet those standards, she’s torn into. She’s not afforded any sympathy for being hurt that Lila lied to her; in fact, she’s demonised for feeling hurt, especially because of the running joke that her blog is focused on someone so horrible and she doesn’t see that. Lila is presented as the sympathetic one here. LILA. Just because Alya dared to believe her in canon.

Also, how she’s constantly trying to either tease Marinette for having a crush or insist that Marinette’s only doing what she does because of a crush...even though according to this ‘verse’s canon, Marinette is too good to make mistakes and do obsessive stuff over a crush, which is why canon Alya thinks this about her in the first place. That didn’t just come out of nowhere in the show purely for “woe is Marinette, her best friend doubts her”.

Like in the first part of ‘Gamer’, where she’s accusing Marinette of only entering the tournament to flirt with Adrien while Marinette so “coolly and calmly” rebuts her...why? By the ‘verse’s own logic, Marinette isn’t a flustered mess around Adrien. The only purpose of this scene is to glorify Marinette and her amazing calmness while making Alya look like a nosy idiot who dares to doubt her best friend. The logic of the ‘verse and of canon clash really jarringly in moments like this, and it becomes clear that the only purpose of these moments is to make Marinette look better at the expense of others. Most often her best friend, who’s an utter idiot for not seeing Scarlet Lady’s true nature and just can’t keep her nose out of Marinette’s business and so comes to wrong conclusions. Why are Marinette and Alya even friends in this ‘verse? SL!Marinette’s been nothing but condescending towards Alya most of the time.

Uh, and also the way she occasionally whitewashes Alya. Just look at the SL headers. She literally made Alya, aka a Black girl who’s one of the good guys, lighter than Lila, aka a white girl who’s one of the bad guys and not even that tanned in canon. Why do people make one of the villains darker and often whitewash one of the heroes? It’s not that hard to figure out.

(Also the way she really played into the aggressive Black girl stereotype in ‘Horrificator’ over a minor argument, even physically threatening Nino. Why? Literally why did she have to go full-on aggressive instead of just looking angry and scolding him or something?)

This all might not be conscious on Zoe’s part but the way Alya is treated is still disgusting, especially if you’re operating on internalised salt from other aspects of the salty fandom. I’ve seen her claims that she’s trying to help Alya improve and she’s not being salty but...even if she’s not being consciously salty, her salt is definitely still leaking over it and part of that salt includes racism. I also don’t see how making Alya a joke and exaggerating her flaws is helping her to improve when there was plenty to go off in canon but, well, that might just be me.

Even Marinette, who’s pretty much treated as white for 99% of it.

Marinette, aka the girl who’s only made visibly “Asian/Other” in SL ‘Reflekta’ with her Chinese-inspired Black Cat suit and name which is a one-off, while her permanent Bee outfit is just the bland tight suit that salters criticise Ladybug for having and her name is just Marigold. It comes across as using “Asianness” as a costume and it really didn’t sit right with me at first, but it took me a while to tease out why exactly this made me feel ick.

There’s nothing wrong with touching more on Marinette’s heritage and expanding on it in ways that the show doesn’t, especially because this is a big sticking point for salters, but again...it’s only a one-off. A costume. There aren’t casual hints sprinkled throughout the comic that just normally establish Marinette as half-Chinese, aside from like a page or two in ‘Timebreaker’ showing Sabine’s outfit. It’s another ‘Kung Food’ where it’s slammed into one episode and shoved into our faces that Marinette Is Chinese and it’s really jarring and unpleasant.

It just comes across as fetishising, is all. I don’t think it’s something most people would pick up on unless they’re used to being able to see this kind of thing.

Master Fu. Oh, Master Fu.

From an old man who made mistakes but tried as best as he could with the limited knowledge he had, he’s now a bumbling idiot who...put the earrings in Marinette’s bag instead of her room for some reason? To kickstart the plot? Especially because the ring was still in Adrien’s room. It’s very, very contrived.

And then in one of the most recent updates, Zoe has Adrien - a white boy - physically threaten Fu, aka an elderly Asian man. It’s disgusting. I was gobsmacked when I first saw it. And that’s the thing with salters: they tear into Adrien for being a white boy so they can look Enlightened when he hasn’t actually done anything racist, yet they then turn around and perpetuate actual racism in trying to “fix” him

There’s probably more but those are the examples that jump out at me of the racism in SL. There are plenty more problems but...whatever. I’ll be here all day if I try and cover those.

As for the Galahad thing...it’s personal. That original post was as much as I was comfortable revealing.

#ask #aotq babbles #miraculous ladybug #ml fandom salt #yeah there’s a lot here lmao #cw racism #antiblackness #ml analysis

64 notes · View notes

sunflowers-insherwood · 3 years

Text

Allan A Dale Analysis - 2x05

Analysing Allan’s Experience of the Confrontation with Robin in Ducking and Diving

As I was writing my analysis on Allan in 2x06 (which is coming tomorrow!), I realised it was necessary to first investigate this confrontation between him and Robin, as it changes their relationship massively and sows the seeds for the motivations behind their actions in the next episode. This is a quite casual line by line analysis of their conversation in the bar at the end of 2x05 (Ducking and Diving), and is quite speculative, as I outline my theories but also alternative interpretations – mainly of Allan’s viewpoint. I wrote out the transcript for this conversation myself, so the punctuation is intended to show more the pauses/ emotions rather than be grammatically correct. Let’s dive straight in! (Wordcount: 3.5k)

X = owner of the Tripp Inn, A = Allan, R = Robin

X: You’re late, I was going to keep your money back. Silver, not gold.

As soon as Allan walks into the room, he looks to the back corner and all around to ensure Robin isn’t there already to find him. He’s on edge and doesn’t want to be found, but now trying to do the right thing.

A: You’re gonna tell Gisborne to keep this money. I’m not doing this anymore, alright, I’ve changed.

I’m never sure what to make of the motives behind Allan’s actions here. To me, his actions are more of someone realising that their time’s up: he’s a rat on a sinking ship trying to cover his tracks before it goes under. This obviously paints him in a pretty bad light, as the only reason he’s stopping being a spy is because he’s about to get caught. I find this more believable than a realisation that he’s actually done wrong, however, because I doubt that if he hadn’t felt threatened he wouldn’t have tried to stop working for Gisborne then. I think he would have eventually, but it would’ve taken him longer to realise the severity of his actions. Alternatively, the reactions of the others and his conversation with Djaq have sped up his realisation process significantly and he’s genuinely guilty about what he’s done. Perhaps it’s a mix of both. On top of this, if he thought it was certain he would get thrown out by Robin, I think his survival instincts would tell him to keep the money and run. He refuses it, signifying he feels really guilty about what he’s done, or that he thinks he can still get away with it at camp. Maybe he intends to refuse the money, and then tell Robin he was working for Gisborne afterwards, to prove that he’s stopped being a spy.

X: It’s a bit late for a conscience now isn’t it?

A: Yeah. Very late.

Again, this could mean two things: that he knows he’s almost about to be caught, or that he genuinely feels bad and knows that he’s been playing the double agent for too long. I’m more able to believe the first but I think even if you see him as simply covering his tracks, the sincerity of how this line is delivered implies there is an emotional conflict going down here too.

*Arrow fires into bag of money. X gasps*

A: Robin. *swallows* You’re early.

I think of this as an attempt at humour, perhaps more to himself than anyone else as he says it so quietly. Classically the comic relief of the gang (when Much fulfils this function it’s accidental in his sincerity, Allan is more purposefully cheeky chappy about it) he’s still trying to lighten the situation and break the silence. Robin doesn’t allow it and Allan instantly has to go to defend.

R: Leave us.

A: Stay there.

This is an indicator of just how scared Allan is of what Robin will do to him – he wants the bartender to stay there as a form of protection, as a witness to anything Robin might try to do to him, under the theory that with someone else there Robin won’t hurt him so badly. Allan feels completely cornered, as he knows he can’t really blag his way out of this situation and that Robin would probably overpower him in a fight. Does Allan think he’s about to die? Quite possibly.

R: GET OUT! I need to talk to my spy.

A: What was that with Will? You banished Will.

Allan’s first thoughts are on Will. This could be (again) interpreted in two ways: he’s purely confused about the situation and is trying to work out where Robin stands, or he’s genuinely concerned for his best mate in the gang (which is the interpretation I prefer, although I think it’s a mixture of both). We see how torn up Allan becomes when Robin accuses Will of being the spy that afternoon – he almost admits to being the spy then as he cries ‘no…’ and ‘Robin…’ when he hears Robin explain it was Will, hating the idea that Will would be accused on his behalf. Even if he’s willing to sacrifice the cause, he’s still loyal to his friends, or at least tries to be. It actually benefitted Robin to frame Will as the spy, as Allan and him are so close; I know this was a random choice but it actually worked to Robin’s advantage, making Allan feel worse and acting as an extra punch in the gut.

R: It was an act! Only she knew who was guilty. And I knew the spy would want to come here before me to cover his tracks. For all I knew, it could’ve been Will standing there. But it’s not. Is it? It’s you.

On a related sidenote, @chaoticbitheatrekid recently mentioned ‘i don’t know if this is just me, but i always felt that if Robin had to pick one member of the gang to get rid of, he would pick Allan’. Although he says here ‘for all I knew, it could’ve been Will standing there’, to me the ‘but it’s not… it’s you’ indicates that, maybe if he didn’t consciously think it was Allan, to him Allan was the most likely to betray the gang.

A: Robin, it was over, ask her! I made a decision.

Robin interprets Allan’s presence here as I did, as Allan trying to ‘cover his tracks’. However, Allan did come here purely to reject the money, and he has a point here: if Robin asked the bartender, he would find out Allan was giving it back. I don’t think this would matter to Robin even if he did ask however, as he would purely view it as Allan trying to save himself rather than the more sympathetic view that he’s genuinely regretful.

R: Then what’s this?

A: No, I was giving it back.

This is true, but again Robin doesn’t investigate it any further. He consistently refuses to listen to Allan’s side of the story – something that Allan will become extremely bitter for later.

R: So you betray me. You betray yourself, you betray your king, and for what. For a few silver coins. What have you told Gisborne, Allan?

Another example of the differences between Robin and Allan’s priorities: Robin’s mind almost instantly goes to the King, a person I don’t think crossed Allan’s mind during this entire process. Perhaps ignorantly (or he’s decided to ignore the idea), he’s assumed the only thing his betrayal will impact is the gang’s immediate success. He can’t see the bigger picture that Robin strives towards, as his motivations for being in the gang are less to help other people (which I think he enjoys, but wasn’t the reason he joined) and more as a fun way of survival among friends. Robin also mentions (in true teacher fashion) that Allan has betrayed himself, indicating that Robin did believe Allan was a good person, perhaps especially due to his progression from a shameless liar at the start of series 1 to a pretty sturdy friend in series 2. Allan’s actions could almost be viewed as a relapse into the lies and pickpocketing associated with his brother. Interestingly, Robin doesn’t mention the rest of the gang at all here, implying that he sees Allan’s betrayal as a direct attack on him and the King. Allan begins to internalise this view in 2x06, but I think if he were to explain who he betrayed, he would only mention the gang.

A: Mmm… nothing really.

Allan seems almost awkward here. ‘Nothing really’ is obviously his attempt to diminish what he’s done to appeal to Robin, but also furthers the idea that doesn’t think he’s done anything too serious (he knows betraying the gang was serious, but doesn’t think the outcomes have been that bad), and that he never had intentions for his betrayals to impact more than the gang’s monetary success. This wasn’t helped by Guy reassuring Allan when he agreed to working for him that nothing he said would be of any real weight to the people or wider actions of the gang.

R: Does he know about the camp?

A: No.

R: No. Does he know about Marian?

A: No!

Allan’s reactions to this part of his interrogation further the theory that he really didn’t think he was impacting much outside of the gang’s money – he grows almost appalled at the idea of telling the location of the camp and Marian’s secrets to Gisborne, like they never even crossed his mind, or they were so out of the question that he never would have imagined telling him. He seems offended by Robin’s insinuation that he would betray the gang so greatly, that Robin’s idea of him is so low that he thinks Allan would sell the very safety of his friends for money. Robin’s assuming of the worst instantly is another action that Allan will grow to hate later, and although it is harsh, in Robin’s defence he is quickly ensuring the safety of his gang, not only accusing Allan. Their fighting is entirely based on a lack of proper communication and interpretation. If not loyal to the cause, Allan is loyal to the people he loves, and that can be seen by his repeated protection of Marian in the later episodes. He never tries to harm any of the gang apart from Robin (2x06), but I think that is due to loosing part of his love and respect for Robin in this confrontation. If he doesn’t lose it directly, he definitely projects Robin’s hatred of him onto Robin and villainises him until he feels justified in attacking him later.

R: More lies?

A: NO. This was the last time, I promise. And I was wrong. But he captured me, Robin, he tortured me, I didn’t have a choice-

You can hear how earnest Allan is on that final no. I guess Robin, in the midst of his anger and paranoia, can’t read just how truthful he is being. But I don’t think I’d be able to either, to be honest. Robin then interrupts him from speaking, actively talking over Allan rather than listening.

R: EVERYTHING IS A CHOICE. Everything we do!

Up until Robin says this, Allan has been purely defending his corner and reassuring Robin of everything he hasn’t done, and trying to get back on the same page – but when Robin diminishes his experiences of being captured and tortured, Allan flips and instead starts on the attack. You can see this change happen as he takes a second to think, eyes narrowing with offence as he thinks of what to say back. And what Allan said next has a point, Robin is in a place of privilege as the leader of the gang because if he gets captured, he’s never left for long enough to get tortured, and the Sheriff prefers to go straight to threatening to kill him anyway. He’s too prized a prisoner to be treated badly. Allan’s experiences of being caught are very different: he was left for hours, unsure if anyone would come and rescue him, while being pretty consistently tortured both physically and emotionally. (It’s also interesting that Allan doesn’t tell anyone anything while being physically hurt, but once Gisborne starts preying on his insecurities, he’s bought quite quickly. He is exhausted at that point but it looks like Allan is emotionally hurting more than he lets on to the rest of the gang. Also, he makes it explicitly clear that he isn’t going to help with killing anyone or giving away condemning information, it’s only when Gisborne brings up the idea of little bits of information he becomes swayed. The way to get to Allan is by convincing him what he’s doing isn’t actually harming anyone, actually showing he’s good at heart.) When Robin tells him ‘everything is a choice’, Allan sees it as a complete disregard of the position of hardships he’s been in. Robin’s lecturing him on morals, but in his eyes, Robin has never been/ will never be in the same difficult position as he was. Before that statement by Robin, Allan’s been feeling guilty, and been reaching out to reconnect with Robin – but at the dismissal of his experiences, Allan’s guilt turns to anger.

A: That’s easy for you to say though, isn’t it, huh? You get the glory, you get the girl. Everyone loves you. And then when the King comes back you’ll get lands, property, a wife, EVERYTHING. And what will I have? You are always in the sun, Robin, and I am always in the shade.

I’ll cover this more in the 2x06 analysis, but Allan’s biggest fears are being in pain, deprived, and without security. This outburst is actually one of Allan’s most vulnerable moments (looks like he’s only able to admit to his fears in anger) as he shows all of his insecurities by stating everything Robin has that Allan wishes he did. These play on his being deprived – ‘you get the glory, you get the girl’, ‘what will I have?’ – and being without security – ‘and then when the King comes back you’ll get lands, property, a wife’. As much as Allan enjoys being in the gang, he knows that it cannot be sustained for long and worries about what will happen to him after it ends and, he assumes, everyone goes their separate ways.

R: Is that meant to be an excuse. Heh?

In his anger, Robin misses the vulnerability in Allan’s side of the story. (To be fair to Robin, if I just found out someone I trusted completely had been selling important secrets to my arch nemesis, I’d be blinded by anger too.) But because Allan’s only way of showing vulnerability is by attacking Robin, and Robin takes the attack personally, he misses the insecurities behind Allan’s motivation by taking what he says as an excuse, not a reason. In this moment, Robin exerts his fury physically, pushing Allan up against a wall and shaking him – Allan sees no way out and begins to work on the defences again, realising he can’t gain anything but further disconnect by attacking Robin.

A: Give me another chance, please. I wouldn’t have let Gisborne hurt any of us, I’d never have told him anything like that.

I think this plea makes Allan looks particularly weak, as we see him switching tactics the second he realises one isn’t working (showing how clever he actually is), but also insinuating how happy to shift the truth he is in order to get what he wants. It makes him look almost cowardly, and in Robin’s eyes just furthers the mistrust, as he ricochets from an attack to a plea for forgiveness. However, it’s also a truthful admission by Allan of what he wouldn’t do and where he very firmly draws the line.

R: Harmless lies, innocent betrayals? They don’t exist, Allan!

Robin’s morals are consistently a lot stricter than Allan’s, and at their relationship’s best, this leads to Allan being inspired and positively influenced by him, but at its worst creates conflict and leads Robin to believe he is better than Allan, lecturing him on what is right (see 2x06).

A: Robin, I’ve changed. How can I get you to believe that?

I see ‘Robin, I’ve changed’ as an agreement with Robin that ‘harmless lies’ and ‘innocent betrayals’ don’t exist, but as Allan has only just realised the severity and extent of the actions he believed to be harmless until so recently, he shows his agreement through saying his beliefs have changed. He’s still reaching out to maintain his connection and trust with Robin and in turn, the gang. (I think if it hadn’t been Robin who had gone to the Tripp Inn, it would’ve been a very different outcome. Much would’ve been similar to Robin, casting him out immediately, but taking the betrayal very personally. John would’ve been really angry but I think Allan would’ve perhaps been able to talk him down. Will has a wicked temper for Allan to reckon with, and I think as Will and Allan are so close and Will’s morals so strong, he would be quite personally offended too, so Allan would struggle to win him over, but after some time to cool off Will would’ve heard Allan’s side of the story. Djaq says multiple times she believes Allan is a good man and could have changed, so would’ve listened to his entire story and possibly even let him stay if she believed him. As the leader of the group, Robin sees the gang as his responsibility to keep safe, hence having to be extra harsh in order to make sure they are protected.)

R: You can’t. And the funny thing is, you might be telling the truth.

Here, Robin shows he is aware of how blunt he’s being with Allan, but has so little trust for him he can’t even begin to think he’s telling the truth. He admits that Allan could be being truthful, but that he’s refusing to give him a chance anyway. In 2x06, as Allan becomes highly bitter, saying ‘you should’ve given me a second chance’, it’s likely largely in reference to this moment, where Robin refuses to even consider his viewpoint. For now though, Allan is still trying to regain Robin’s trust.

A: I am!

R: And how am I supposed to believe you anymore?

A: Robin, I swear to you, on my life.

*Robin holds knife up to neck*

A: Don’t kill me. Please.

I don’t think Allan comes across particularly well within this conversation, but the only reason he’s acting in a way that can be seen as cowardly is because he’s doing what he can to fight for his life the entire time, shown as he at first asks the bartender to stay, and coming to a peak here as Robin presses the blade to his throat. His attempts to stay alive have to be spoken, as he knows Robin would overpower him and there’s nowhere to run. His fears of what Robin would do to him are confirmed and in this moment, he truly has no idea whether Robin will kill him or not.

*Robin jerks knife away*

Woohoo Robin doesn’t kill him!

R: You are lucky I’ve left you with a life to swear upon. Never, ever, let me set eyes on you again.

This kind of insinuates Robin thought Allan deserved to die, or at least deserved a worst punishment than just being told to never come back to camp. As we see in the next episode, this doesn’t go to plan and essentially forms the basis for Allan’s further descent and the height of their physical conflict, which is in 2x06.

*Robin stalks away, Allan is left to feel sorry for himself*

TO SUMMARISE:

- Robin continually refuses to listen to Allan’s explanations, instead seeing them as excuses

- He dismisses Allan’s experiences of being captured and tortured, instead lecturing him on morals that Allan thinks he can’t afford to have (this is the biggest hurt for Allan, I think – the complete dismissal of his experiences)

- Robin’s quick to assume Allan would betray the gang completely (admittedly it’s better to be safe than sorry in these situations)

- He knows he could give Allan a second chance but doesn’t even consider it, and tells Allan this (a major catalyst for Allan’s anger in 2x06)

- He separates Allan from the gang, meaning Allan can’t go back to camp to collect his items, and can’t explain to his friends his side of the story; they will only hear it through Robin, furthering the bias against him

- Allan tries to reconnect and reassure Robin, only attacking him once and playing defence the rest of the time

- He came to the Inn to cover his tracks but also to return the money, implying he’s doing everything he can to stay with the gang – and whatever the motive, he was about to stop working for Gisborne

- Allan didn’t think his betrayals were as severe as they were, he never imagined telling Gisborne anything more than when they were planning on targeting a certain area

- Allan and Robin’s inability to listen and respond to one another properly leads to a worsening of the situation and drives them both to the actions of 2x06, as Allan becomes more bitter as he reflects on the conversation and Robin still doesn’t understand Allan’s motivations properly

Thank you so much for reading if you’ve made it this far, I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your hot takes and interpretations too – did I miss anything? My analysis on 2x06 is coming tomorrow so keep an eye out for that :)

#allan a dale #robin hood #bbc robin hood #character analysis #robin of locksley #ducking and diving #allan a dale analysis

18 notes · View notes

smcc212 · 4 years

Text

Coming out

Warning- angst, self hatred, internalised homophobia, fluff. Soft!Tommy, Soft!Polly, pretty much Soft! Shelby family. Also, not proofread and I wrote most of this drunk sooo....

Word count-1,127

A/N- I’ve being going through some shit at school because I’m bi and I’m in love with a girl, so I wrote a fic about being Finn’s twin sister and being lesbian. I hope you enjoy!! Xoxo

P.S. I wrote this on my phone as my computer is broken so I can’t add a read more opinion, sorry xoxo

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

You sat in your aunt Pol’s living room, barely listening to anything your family was saying. You were too busy thinking about the person you had fallen in the love with; the girl you’d fallen in love with. Her name was Amber. You’d think about her all day and all night. You knew it was wrong to feel this way about girl, but you did anyway. You tried everything, anything to stop feeling like that about her, but nothing worked. The only person that knew you felt that way was your twin, Finn. The two of you had each other’s back, no matter what happened. You knew he’d keep your secret, that you were sure of. But, what you couldn’t do was stop yourself from wanting to be with her. You sat your, as family talked about the business, you thought of Amber; her gorgeous brunette hair, her sweet smile and her breathtaking hazelnut eyes filling your mind.

“(Y/N)!” Tommy shouted, bringing you back to reality. You shook your head, taking a deep, cleansing breath, before being able to turn your attention to your older brother. “What’re you think ‘bout,” Tommy asked, his brows furrowing as he stared at you.

“Nothing, Tom,” You answered far too quickly.

“Tell me the truth, (Y/N),” Tommy said sternly. He knew you were hiding something.

“Uh... it’s, um, nothing you need to worry about, Tom,” You stuttered. Tommy just stared at you, waiting for the truth but you didn’t say anything.

“(Y/N), you can tell us what’s up, we’re your family,” Arthur chimed in, but you didn’t want them to know out of fear that they would disown you and you couldn’t last without your family, you knew that, so you kept it quite.

“If it’s okay, can I go to bed now? I’m really tired to be honest,” You lied, however, your family just nodded and you went to your bed room. As you climbed to stairs, you heard Finn saying he was tired too before you heard his foot steps follow behind yours. You and Finn went into your room, closing your door behind the both of you. You sat on your bed, Finn sat beside you.

“(Y/N), I can’t say I I get it but you’re my sister; you’re my twin, and I’ll be here for you no matter what.” You and Finn didn’t register the mass amount of footsteps that mad it to the outside of your bedroom door as you sobbed in his arms.

Your siblings and aunt whispered quietly about what they thought was wrong with you: maybe a boy at school you liked not liking you, or even liking someone else? Maybe it was not being included in the family business? But no one knew until they heard Finn speak to you again.

“I’m not gonna to lie to you, (Y/N),” They heard him say quietly. “I don’t know how they’ll react, but I’m still gonna be here.”

None of them knew what the hell he was talking about, John was just about the speak up when he heard just what was wrong.

“It doesn’t matter if you like girls instead of boys, you’re still my sister and I’ll love you no matter what; if our family turn their back on you, I’ll leave with you because you shouldn’t feel bad for you love.” Your tears of sadness had stopped, but tears of happiness slowly trickled down your cheeks.

“Thank you, Finn,” You mumbled quietly. The rest of your family outside the door stood there frozen, not from disappointment, but from shock. They didn’t care who you loved, but the idea of how much more danger you were in with that fact, that made them worry for you.

Finn stood up to leave your room after placing a kiss upon your forehead, he headed to the door, stopping as he saw your full family staring back at him. He didn’t know what to do, he just stood there. Completely frozen in one stop. You were about the head downstairs when you saw that Finn was just standing at your door in silence. You sighed.

“What is it, Finn?” You asked, expecting him to have something more to say.

“I...uh.... I think the family already knows,” He mumbled.

“What? How?” You said, walking over to him. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw your family. “Fuck,” You whispered, your eyes meeting Polly’s. You quickly look to the floor in embarrassment, keeping your eyes their until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see Arthur.

“You like-“ He took a breath before continuing. “-girls,” He finished you couldn’t say anything you could only nod your head. “Well... is the there anyone in particular?” He asked, looking to the rest of family, not knowing what to say. You nodded again.

“Is she hot?” John asked, strutting over, a smirk you his face. You smiled slightly.

“Um... yeah,” You mumbled as you looked at John.

“Like, scale of one to ten?” He enquired. You couldn’t believe how unfazed he was, but you were certainly happy about it.

“Twelve,” You replied, a small smile starting to grow on your face. John smirk at you, Arthur had walked back to join the rest of your family. John places his arm round your shoulders.

“Good, ‘cause Shelbys’ don’t go for the ugly ones,” He joked, causing a small laugh to fall from your mouth before Tommy walked over. John unhooked his arm, but still stood beside you.

“Is this what was bothering you downstairs?” Tom asked calmly. You nodded. “(Y/N), we don’t care about that. We’re just worried about the danger that puts you in, okay?” You nodded but still couldn’t look at him. “Look at me,” Tommy said softly, putting his fingers under your chin to make you look at him. Tears burning at your eyes as you did. “Hey, don’t cry.” Tommy’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you towards him as tears fell down your checks.

“I’m sorry, Tommy,” You sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I know it’s not okay, I-I know it’s wrong, b-bu- but I can’t help it,” You murmured as your tears soaked through Tommy’s shirt.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart,” Tommy said as you shook your head against. “Hey, look at me.” He pulled back a little, meeting your gaze. “There’s nothing wrong with you, you can’t choose who love, alright? Now come on, your dinners gonna get cold.” You nodded and followed your family downstairs.

Dinner was quite that night, John tried to talk to you about the girl you liked, but every time you would brush it off.

You stood up and took your plate over to the sink, washing it quickly before heading upstairs. When you got to your room you went straight to your bed, curled up in a ball and cried as quietly as you could. You never wanted them to find out like this, you never wanted them to find out period. The thought of you disappointing your family terrified you, they were all you had and they’d done everything for you; you hated that you’d let them down like this. As you cried, you heard a soft knock on your door. Before you had the chance to respond, Tommy and Polly walked in.

You quickly wiped at your eyes to try and hide that you’d keep crying, but your tear stained cheeks and swollen, red eyes gave it away. “Hey,” You sniffed quietly as they cautiously approached the side of your bed.

“Hey, sweet,” Pol said, lowering yourself next to you on the bed. “We just wanted to come check on you.”

“I’m fine,” You lied, trying to smile at them. You failed.

“No you’re not,” Tommy joined to conversation, kneeling beside your bed.

“(Y/N), we want you to know we love you and we don’t care who you love, okay? We’re just worried about you, that’s all.” Pol said, gently stroking your head with her thumb just like she did when you’d cry as a baby.

“Yeah-“ Tommy mumbled, causing you to look in his direction. “-you’re already a Shelby, which means you when in dangerous for the second the business started, but this... this puts you in even more dangerous. Now, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s fine if you don’t like boys, in fact, I’m glad you don’t, but you know this means you can’t go out on dates and get married and family, right?” Tommy said, looking at you with concerned eyes. You meekly nodded your head. “I’ve told you your full live, you need to use your words,” Tommy chuckled slightly. A smile smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the sound.

“Yes, Tom, I know. But... I don’t care. I could date in secret, make everyone think we’re just friends, no one would know,” You tried to argue.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, just not kissing and handing holding and all that in public, ‘Kay?”

“Okay, Tom.” You smiled, as you heard another set of footprints approach your door. You turned to John standing there, a smirk on his lips. “What?” You asked, knowing something what brewing in his mind.

“I was just thinking about all the sleepovers you’ve had,” John began. “And well, all the girls that have slept in this bed with you because none of us thought anything of it.” Your eyes widened as you thought back to when you lost your virginity. You were having a sleepover with your “best friend” in your the very bed you were sitting on now. Shit. You didn’t think they’d figure it out.

Tommy and Polly stood up and joined John at the door, all three of them staring at you. “(Y/N), tell me nothing’s happened at those sleepovers,” Tommy said sternly, but with a little worry coating his voice. Polly’s eyes were just shocked at the thought, and John was grinning ear to ear.

“Ummm, n-no nothing’s happened,” You stuttered making John erupt into laughter, while Tommy and Polly just stared at you. You realised you didn’t sound believable in the slightest, so you just shut up.

“Well, no more sleepovers with girls,” Tommy said firmly, Polly nodded her head as the two of them stared at you.

“That’s some bullshit,” You huffed out without thinking.

“Excuse me?” Tommy asked, his gaze never leaving yours.

“That’s bullshit, I‘ve already... y’know... so it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“(Y/N), put down the shovel,” John laughed.

Polly glared at John before turning back to you. “We don’t if you’ve done it already, it’s not happening.” You opened your mouth to protest, but when Tommy and Polly both stared daggers at you, you shut it and turned around.

“Okay,” You sighed. “Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Polly cooed.

“Goodnight, shagger,” John joked. “Oww.” You giggled knowing that Polly had hit him round the back of the head.

You woke up the next morning and went about your normal day. Going to tend to the horses and Charlie’s stable, buying the Polly told you to get for dinner that night. You were on your way home when John shouted your name and jogged over to you.

“Hey,” You chirped, turning to look at your older brother.

“Hey, Finn said you like a girl called Amber, is that true?” You nodded your head. “Well then, come on.” He signalled for you to follow him so you did, nervous taking control of your full body. You took you back to Charlie’s stables and held his arms open; Amber was there, he hair pinned up and her makeup applied perfectly. You stared at her for awhile before pulling herself together and trying your best to speak normally.

A simple “Hey.” Was all you managed to say; it made her giggle, filling you warmth.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come to the pictures with me tomorrow?” Amber asked, her breath-taking smile never leaving her face.

“You mean like a... like a...” you trailed off, too nervous to finish the sentence, but luckily she finished it for you.

“Like a... date?” She smirked as your face was taken over by complete shock.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’d love to... I mean I’d like to, I mean... yeah,” You murmured, mentally kicking yourself for sounding like such an idiot.

“Good-“ She giggled again. “-I’ll come to yours at six and then we’ll go, okay?” You couldn’t seem to form words so you just nodded. She laughed again, kissed your cheek and left. You swiftly headed home to get ready. Not only were your family pretty okay with it, but the girl you liked just asked you on a date. This was, without a doubt, the best day of your life.

#tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #shelby sister #tommy x sister #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder fic #peaky blinder fixs #peaky fookin blinders

318 notes · View notes

chick-from-nz · 4 years

Text

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 4)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually)

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk, spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC

AUTHORS NOTE: big thanks to @1zashreena1 and @girlpornparadise for letting me bounce ideas off them while writing this, hopefully y'all enjoy this and finally, they meet! My first time writing this way so, be nice?

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

CHAPTER: 4 OF ?

TAG LIST (OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight

It's as if running into a wall of muscle knocked some sense into her. The name on the shirt scared her enough to trigger her cadet instincts to kick in quickly to allow her to shake the hands off, step back, and salute, despite being inside, which was a tradition reserved for only the army. She held the salute for longer than necessary, wondering why the officer in front of her wasn’t returning it, instead just staring at her with one gorgeously sculpted eyebrow raised. Begrudgingly she dropped her arm, salute unreturned, and an embarrassed look on her face.

“Sir?” the title came out as more of a question than a statement like it normally would. Confusion was spreading through her brain like wildfire, this was new to her. Why was the high ranking officer, the highest she’d ever been in the presence of other than her father, not returning the mark of respect that had been drilled into her since a kid, although, given he wasn’t from around here, it may not be something he is used to. That and he probably never associates with someone that is as low of a rank as herself.

“Perfect just the Cadet I was looking for, although I must say, not the meeting I was expecting”

Fuck, that voice, I think I’m in love. Was the first thought that came to mind. That voice, gravely and like the richest of chocolates dossed with the slightest accent, matched the attractive man that stood before her, and hearing it oh so close to her, it made her insides melt. Her imagination definitely had not done his voice justice during any day dream that contained the handsome Colonel in front of her. Oh and how glorious those daydreams were, thinking about a particular dirty one where those huge arms of his were wrapped tightly around her, while his chest was pressed so tightly against her back had her blushing the spot. Damn it what is it with me and crushing on the higher ups, get a grip girl!

His words finally clicked in her head. “I’m sorry Sir, what do you mean you were looking for me?”. The confusion was most definitely evident on her face.

The Colonel chuckled lightly, dark eyes fixated on the cadet before him. “I was made aware that the LT. Colonel was to inform the squadron of my choice tonight, is that not what happened Cadet?”

Confusion once again hit Greyson full force. Did Sinclair know the whole time that someone had been picked. Of course he did, he said they had been informed, but according to the Colonel in front of her, he knew the exact Cadet that had been chosen. Why hadn’t he said anything to them then?.

It was at the end of the previous thought that the Cadet deflated, maybe he had told the cadet that had been selected, but it just wasn’t her. Shame ran through her like a lead bullet, of course she wouldn't have been chosen, what Colonel in their right mine would chose a Cadet who had been swept up in a rumour that she was fucking the LT. Colonel in charge of overseeing the entirety of the training squadron just so she could make her way to top recruit.

“Cadet? I asked you a question”. His tone was clipped. Harsh but straight to the point, and just the right amount of authority to snap the cadets attention from being in her own thoughts to looking him dead in the eye. Before she quickly averted her gaze to stare at his boot, that alone made him smirk. Good , he thought, she knows her place.

“I’m sorry Sir, I ummm, I got lost in my thoughts, and umm, no the, ah, the LT. Colonel did not inform us of who you had picked, Sir...” Greyson stuttered, the Colonel was quite the intimidating man up close. All broad shouldered, straight backed and cold facade. If she was being quite honest with herself, she thought the rumours of his brutality might well be true from where she was standing. The way he was watching her was like a predator waiting for his prey to make the one wrong move that would land them in his jaws. A shiver of fear ran down her spine at the thought.

The Colonel huffed in annoyance. “Then I suggest you spend less time in your head and more time paying attention, especially when being addressed by a senior officer, Cadet! A mistake like that will get one of your crew killed if you're not careful”

The cadets stomach plummeted at the thought, she knew all too well what would get a fellow soldier killed, her father liked to remind her that during her weeks leading up to her enlistment. The countless horror stories that had her waking up in a cold sweat had instilled a deep fear of failure within the cadet, but she had not let that show throughout her training, least of all her father hear off it through the chain of command.

Flustered, Greyson replied with a quick, “I’m sorry Sir, I really am”, only to be laughed at by the Colonel.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it when someone dies Cadet, I’m sure you know that all too well with what your father has done, don't let his mistakes become your own!” The final part was growled out with an anger that permeated the air.

Greyson swallowed down her rising anger and levelled the officer in front of her with a glare. It was a well known fact amongst the instructors that mentioning her father struck a nerve within her and set her off, many a time she had been reprimanded for near miss fights from her fellow cadets pulling the dad card around her. The cadet figured that either the Colonel knew this and was trying to get a rise out of her, or just knew of her father's past indiscretions and was trying to use it to discredit her. It didn’t matter which thought she pondered more, both made her blood boil just as much.

Trying to keep a cool demeanor around the officer in front of her was a struggle. He was smirking at her like he just had just won the lottery, all tight lipped and cocky. He had got her hook, line and sinker, she had fallen for his trap. Giving a frustrated huff the cadet looked away from the smug officer in front of her, hoping for something to grab her attention so she could dispel her anger. It seemed however, the Colonel wasn’t done just yet.

“Yes I know all about Daddy dearest and his mistakes, Greyson. It's a wonder you even bothered to enlist with all the hatred and dishonesty that follows your name around.”.

He knew exactly what he was doing, if this was the cadet he was going to steal away from the signal corps then he needed her to rebut him, yell at him, something. Anything that would show some hard spirit that would be needed to complete the daily brutality and challenges that would likely come from being in his team. He had heard what she was capable of, now to just see it for himself.

“Cat got your tongue Cadet? Or are you used to being fucked over in a different kind of way by your superiors. Must be nice to have the LT. Colonel at your beck and call doing your bidding for you and getting you the points to become top cadet. Isn't that right Greyson?” The teasing lilt to his tone was seemingly lost on the cadet in front of him. He watched as waves of varying emotions crossed her face. Something akin to shame crossed first, followed closely by what he assumed was embarrassment, only to be followed by, once more, anger. Which seemed to be this cadets’ default emotion.

Greyson had never once felt this much anger in one go, yes she knew the Colonel was trying to get a rise out of her, and mentioning her father usually did the trick. The idea that he was discrediting her based on rumours and one small sighting of something that definitely wasn’t a professional interaction with the Lt. Colonel during the assessment day somehow struck a nerve so deep she was sure that this feeling was beyond anger, in fact, she was livid. He didn’t know anything about her and he was going to insinuate that! Oh he definitely had another thing coming.

“Respectfully. Sir.” Greyson quipped in a bratty tone, “You don’t know the first thing about me, so you have no right to insinuate that I am sleeping my way to the top!” her distaste for the Colonel before her was growing by the second, “I would have thought it well below your rank to believe the rumours of jealous school girls, but i guess I was wrong. Seems like you aren’t much of a fucking Colonel at all!”. The final words of the sentence were growled out in a tone so low it would have scared her fellow cadets half to death. Her eyes were alight with emotion, her eyes turning a deep green in colour, pupils constricted. The anger was rolling off her in waves.

“There it is, that's the cadet I had heard all about. Daddy’s little mimic”. His grin was bordering maniac, he was pushing her buttons and striking the nerves he had hoped to, it was just a matter of seeing how much further she was willing to go to defend herself and her reputation. But he knew for sure now, this was his cadet.

Those words and that stupidly attractive grin was the last straw for the cadet. Without really processing her next move she curled her right hand into a fist and aimed directly for the underside of that chiseled jaw of his, hoping for a knockout, even if she’d face a potential discharge because of it. This man had fucked her off one too many times for her to internalise these emotions.

The punch thrown at him probably would have knocked him out too, if he hadn’t had the years of experience chasing down criminals in Colombia. He had seen the way her body had gone taught, fist curling, before she had wound her arm back and thrown it forward towards him with such conviction and determination that would have made him proud, if he hadn’t been trying to prove a point. Her plan failed though as he caught her wrist, her fist a mere inch from its intended target. He used her wrist as leverage, while taking a step forward, and slammed her, not all that gently, into the wall behind her.

The air was knocked out of Greyson in an instant, instead of hitting her target, she had ended up pressed between the Colonels’ hard body and the wall behind her. His mouth hovered over her ear, breath hot with each passing exhale, the shiver that wracked her body was not one of fear this time. It seemed as if minutes passed by, she could feel every hard ridge of his body pressed into hers. From his strong thighs right up to his too defined pecs that were pinning her against the wall. He was so close his belt buckle was digging into her stomach.

She released a shaky breath at the thought. This bastard of a man had pushed her to her breaking point and now held her against the wall like it was nothing. She struggled against him for a short moment, feigning an escape, but he just pushed her wrist closer to the wall and his body impossibly closer to her own. Quiet the compromising situation.

Carrillo huffed out a laugh at the way the cadet struggled beneath him before slumping in defeat. He had her exactly where he wanted her, she had shown her hand and was now at his mercy.

“I definitely made the right choice” he murmured against the shell of her ear, delighting in the way she let out the smallest of gasps. “I’d say congratulations, but I guess that's not needed. You're on the team Cadet” and with those final words he released her from his hold and took a step back. Noting the way she slumped against the wall without his support. He had to smirk while taking in her disheveled appearance, she looked positively wrecked. With that final thought he adjusted his uniform and disappeared down the hallway in search of the LT. Colonel, leaving a very confused and very flustered cadet in his wake

#horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x oc #horacio carrillo x reader #paper scissors rank #chapter 4 #narcos fanfic #modern au

26 notes · View notes

hellomynameisbisexual · 3 years

Text

Are you aware that bisexuals walk amongst you every day? We’re here, we’re queer, and we’re not just confused or going through a phase. Bisexuality is as real as the air we breathe – and I discovered this myself after what felt like the world’s longest coming out journey.

Aside from being bisexual, I’m also transgender. This may seem like an irrelevant piece of information to bring up in a piece about Bisexual Awareness Week, but, for me, my gender and sexuality intersect in a very important way.

I found myself questioning my sexuality from quite a young age, but was too scared at first to really confront those feelings. When I eventually did come out at the age of 17, my first-ever label was bisexual. But I stopped using it a little while afterwards, and chose others like ‘gay’ and ‘queer’ – even though the bisexual feelings I had were very much still there. I think it had a lot to do with struggling with my attraction towards men – some unaddressed internalised homophobia, basically – and the only time I allowed myself to revisit those feelings was after I’d accepted myself as a trans man and begun my transition.

I stopped calling myself ‘bisexual’ when I struggled with my attraction towards men.

Embracing my gender felt like a huge step in understanding myself; it was a freedom that came as a sigh of relief, which then allowed me to explore other facets of myself, namely my sexuality. It was just as nerve-wracking facing the idea of being bisexual when I still identified as a woman as it was after coming out as a man. Coming out as a bisexual woman left me feeling vulnerable to fetishisation and the belief that I’d just “end up with a man”; coming out a second time as a bisexual man meant I now experienced total ignorance and dismissal from others, along with (yup, you guessed it) the belief that I was actually gay and that I’d just “end up with a man”.

Before and after I transitioned, being bisexual meant people assumed I’d end up with a man.

Both of these experiences opened my eyes to the reality of biphobia and how prevalent it still is, especially when it comes to bi-erasure, even within my own LGBT+ community.

But, despite that, I couldn’t be more grateful for my journey and where it has led me. Years of confusion and fear evolved into knowing myself on a level I never could have anticipated. I never thought I could ever be so comfortable with my identity, yet I’ve never been more content than I am whenever I say the words: I am a bisexual transgender man.

I’m not a huge believer in labels. I think you should absolutely use labels if you want to, but there’s no pressure to use any if that’s not your jam. But for me, my labels have given me a sense of security that I never could have envisioned. They are an anchor for me to hold on to when I’m feeling unsure about my place in this world, especially when intertwined with mental health issues that make it difficult to know yourself at times. My bisexual label feels like sitting in front of the fireplace with a sugary cup of tea, wrapped in a thick blanket while I watch my favourite TV show. It’s comforting and freeing and feels like home.

Now, my bisexual label feels like sitting in front of the fireplace with a sugary cup of tea.

I can’t quite put into words the feeling of freedom I get from truly knowing who I am. Both my sexuality and my gender feed into that feeling, but my sexuality in particular is something that I struggled to pin down for so long. From first coming out as bisexual as a teenager and then using myriad labels in the years to follow to being led back to bisexuality in the end – it feels like my exploration had to happen in order to bring me here, back to where I started. Because it turns out where I started is where I should’ve been the entire time. And it may have taken me a little while to figure that out, but I’m so glad I did.

So, I stand before you a proud bisexual man, and I hope all of my fellow bisexuals can join me this Bisexual Awareness Week in celebrating our pride!

And once again, happy #BiWeek, everyone! Make sure the bisexuals in your life know that you’re aware of them, and more importantly, make sure they know that you love them and support them in being exactly who they are.

And to anyone who has an issue with us bisexual baddies, I will simply throw up a bisexual peace sign and quote the infamous words of *NSYNC: BI BI BI.

5 notes · View notes

ofmythsandmadness · 5 years

Text

Vormir

SUMMARY: “A soul, for a stone”. A death sentence, before either one realises it. WARNING: death. pain. loss of a major character. if you know endgame, you know what vormir is. so just expect a scene similar to that in the movie, just switching up roles a bit. PAIRING: None. Clint and Natasha are not romantically involved in this, they have more of a sibling relationship and I don’t want this to be seen as a ship fic. WORD COUNT - 4.3k

A/N - I wanted to pour my emotions towards Endgame and what happened to Natasha into something that was better (because she didn’t deserve to die, imo). I don’t know if this did that, but I certainly did...well, I wrote it in about three hours, one of which I was hopped up on cold medicine, and I just wanted to make this happen because I saw a lot of posts thinking Vormir in Endgame should have gone differently. So here we are. I don’t know if this is good. It’s not edited.

“WHAT IS VORMIR?”

Nebula’s gaze turns to Natasha, though her eyes are glazed; there’s a pain that no one could truly read into, not until she spoke its source. “A dominion of death, at the very center of Celestial existence.” She paused.

“It’s where Thanos murdered my sister.”

At once, the room fell silent, and everyone but one looked away. Natasha was the only being to make eye contact, taking in the tremble in Nebula’s words and how hard it was for her to address that fact. Her hand found her pad of paper, taking down her words next to the planet name - though her hand shook and stumbled through the previously tidy note-taking.

“Noted,” Scott said, quickly as though it was break the awkwardness fallen. It did not, but it was a relief to have sound once more fill the room.

Talk quickly moved to other things, each being moving to speak and bring up their own points and questions. Natasha moved in to talk, too, though even as she listened and replied, her mouth was dry and mind was running a thousand miles a minute. Something about what Nebula had said bothered her, warned her of something that was to come - though she could not quite place why, the thought was there, and she could not shake it.

Natasha dared not share that fear though. It was for her to internalise and not force down the other’s throats. There was enough negativity. She did not need to address her own whim just because she was scared of the future. After all, weren’t they all?

The suits felt strange, stretched across each figure like a second skin, and yet nothing like they were used to. Though designed to be lightweight and breathable, there was a pressure on everyone’s shoulders that came with putting on their new outfits. No one dared to share that uneasy feeling, the fear that built every second spent thinking about their mission, but it was there and each one of them knew it.

Steve was the one to step forward and address them all, gaze stern and yet softened with stains of grief that would never fade. He looked at each one of them, eyes rising and dropping to meet everyone before he swallowed and spoke.

“Five years ago, we lost.”

Silence had fallen, each being thinking of those that had left them - those who could no longer stand with them. Hands felt empty from not being held, and eyes watered, feeling lost without the sight of their loved ones. No one dared to even breathe for fear of losing composure.

“All of us,” Steve continued. “We lost friends...we lost family...we lost a part of ourselves.” He hesitated. “Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes, no do-overs.”

Even with the overwhelming sadness, excitement was beginning to drum up, giddiness from nerves and the hope that perhaps this could be the solution. No one wanted to invest all their beliefs in it being a success, but the idea was there and everyone’s minds were turning, trying to imagine this possible victory.

“Most of us are going somewhere we know. But it doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful, look out for each other.” He paused and lifted his shoulders, squaring them as though to say, ‘there’s no going back from here’. “This is the fight of our lives. And we’re gonna win.”

Tony’s head cocked, an unknown expression building on his face as he stared at Steve.

“Whatever it takes. Good luck.”

Quickly, the silence that fell upon the group was broken by the chuckles of Rocket below. “He’s pretty good at that.”

“Right?” Scott exclaimed.

Tony nodded sharply and glanced around to the others. “All right, you heard the man. Stroke those keys, jolly green.”

Bruce began to work at the machine, muttering under his breath before looking up. “Tractors engaged.”

“Alright,” Rocket replied approvingly. The raccoon’s eyes moved to Clint’s hand, his little eyebrows raising at the Benator in his hand. “You promise to bring that back in one piece, right?”

The man shot back a small grin, a glimpse of the cheeky man he had been before. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll do my best.”

“As promises go, that was pretty lame.”

But before Rocket could put up more of a fuss, Natasha spoke, smiling to everyone with a hope she did not even know she had left. Her feet itched to move, hands shaking as they prepared for whatever was to come.

“See you in a minute,” was all she said, before each one was shrunk and flung into the gaping mouth of the Quantum Realm.

Clint and Natasha left Morag on high hopes and with smiles on each face, covering each other’s pain as though it was enough to lie to each other. Their nervous energies were feeding off one another and growing, but neither one dared stop and speak their fears for what was going to come. No, they needed to stay positive, for if they stopped to consider all the possibilities. Despite all the time come between them, they were still a team. Once unstoppable. But despite everything that had come between them, the bond still stood and each one knew they would fight until the very end for one another. And that was what mattered most, just then.

Natasha still had the uneasy feeling of dread, but she tried to swallow it back as though a pill and keep it back. She leant against the ship wall and glanced towards Clint, taking in the silhouette of him in the dull light and how the darkness smoothed his face. She knew the worry lines, the grief and the stains of great loss still marked his skin, but as they stood there, he truly looked like he had years and years back when they were just two agents trying to save the world. Each one held tremendous weight on their shoulders, but through it all they had found each other and that had been enough to keep them breathing. Make drowning in the darkness of their minds, less of an impending threat.

It had been years, but for a second, she could truly believe nothing had ever changed.

He turned and finally looked at her. Clint wore a half smile almost reminiscent of his old one. “We’re a long way from Budapest.”

And all she could do was laugh.

The pair step out and look around, in awe with the surroundings, Clint more so than Natasha. His eyes fill with a funny sense of joy, a curiosity she had not seen from him in a long time. She smiles at that.

“You know,” Clint says, quietly, “under different circumstances, this would be totally awesome.”

They moved to climb, trekking up the mountain through huffs and careful steps.

Natasha sighed. “You know, I bet the raccoon didn’t have to climb a mountain.”

“Technically, he’s not a raccoon, you know.”

She snorted, glancing towards him. “Whatever - he still eats garbage.”

Clint smiled and moved to speak, but before he could, a different voice boomed towards them. Their eyes snapped forward and hands moved to their weapons as a figure came into few, dark and caped with no view of their face.

“Welcome.”

Her hand clutches tighter, wondering if this was their fate - fight a mysterious villain, escape with a stone. In all honesty, that does not sound terrible, considering how many times they have done that before. Maybe hope is an actual option.

But then he speaks again, chilling her to the bone. “Natasha, daughter of Ivan.” Such words really meant nothing, or should mean nothing - except her mind must go back years and years, to when she found those two small graves, plain and with nothing but two names. They were foreign to her, but she did remember them, engraving the pair in her mind as though it would give her a sense of identity.

But the name ‘Ivan’ had never been on one of the graves, instead it was the name of another. Not that Natasha carried many memories of him, either, but a man who acted as a father more than the unknown grave owner. She had never considered him one, but he was the first to hold her hands and walk her through what would be the Red Room training, as well as the only one who looked at her with a smile once she stood in the stone cold building. Fear spread like a virus and caused her to stop, barely even recognising his words to Clint - though they did just barely stand out, if just to be a reminder of the ability to guess his mother, too.

“Who are you?” She managed, biting back the tremble in her voice.

“Consider me a guide, to you and to all who seek the Soul Stone.”

She found strength then, perhaps there was a chance to find this source of power - one that did not lead down a route of pain. Her head cocked, hand twitching as it gripped her weapon. “Oh good,” she heard herself say, the words echoing into the wind. “You tell us where it is, then we’ll be on our way.”

“If only it were that easy,” the mysterious being sighed. He turned and gestured for them to follow, leading them towards the cliff’s end. They pause, hovering at the edge, staring down at what seems to go on forever. Neither one can see much more than rock below, those each one hopes there was more than what met the eye.

“What you seek lies in front of you,” they were told, the being turning to show just a glimpse of his hollow red face before moving away. “As well as what you fear.”

“The stone is down there.”

He turned back, and finally then could they see the horror that was his face. There was barely a skeleton of a monstrous being, but the capes could not hide the glowing red skin or the pure black swirling in his sockets. Perhaps that made everything worse, the terrible look of whatever being it was setting their fates into stone with his next words. “For one of you. For the other...in order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul, for a stone.”

And only then, did the feeling of doom truly set in for Natasha, and Nebula’s words sink in for her. As she stared down into the abyss, heart in her throat, she realised truly what challenge the two of them had been given.

For several moments, neither one of them spoke. Clint paced and she sat and stared at her hands, debating the options they had. There was no way to know what he was thinking, but she was sure she had it all figured out - the choice both of them had to make. As their ‘guide’ told them, the stone was only for one of them. The other was going to reach the end of their line, a doom not foreseen at the start of their trip.

Natasha, though as hard as it was, did her best to look at it straight on. For years prior, many before and then some recently, she had dreamed of death. Every time she shut her eyes, there was a feeling of doom and some times, she leant into it and craved her end. After all she had done, perhaps it was deserving for her to die, at least that was what she had told herself many times before. Yet each time, she usurped death and lived to see another day, for some unknown reason that haunted her every night.

The five years without all those she loved set in stone how alone she was. Sure, she had Steve, and had made do with new beings entering their universe, but there was nothing much tethering her to the world. She had no family, no true partners to hold her hand, no one close enough that had been left to keep her afloat. Even Clint, Clint who had been through it all had left, and she constantly drowned in the darkness of her thoughts. Finding purpose in her actions and the aftermath could go only so far - at the end of the day, she had lived a very lonely life. What more would it be, if she died the same way?

Clint’s voice broke her from the melancholic thoughts. “Maybe he’s making all this shit up.”

Much as she wanted to, she could not feed into his hopeless optimism. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Why? ‘Cause he knew your daddy’s name?”

She stared forward blankly, not meeting his eyes. “I didn’t.”

Clint was silent.

“Thanos left here with the stone. Without his daughter. It’s not a coincidence.”

“Yeah.”

They both stopped talking for a moment, letting their words sink in with the truth of the situation. Really, both knew what was to come, and what had to be done - but for one of them, the reality of it all had not been allowed to be an option until that very moment. And yet, even if he had not concreted his own solution as Natasha had, Clint made his mind up on the sacrifice he knew had to be made. There was no question, even if his heart twisted at the thought of his family and friends - while a part of him wished he would be there to hug them, one last time, he knew this was the right thing to do.

“Whatever it takes.”

Clint nodded, solemnly repeating back the phrase.

Natasha stood, unclasping her hands and finally looking his way. “If we don’t get that stone, billions of people stay dead.”

“Then...I guess we both know who it’s gotta be.”

“I guess we do,” she muttered back softly.

Clint’s hands found her own and they paused, staring down one another. Doubt struck his mind and as he looked her way, he very nearly laughed. Not because it was remotely funny, but because of the look in her eyes, steeled and determined for what came next. She had always been, from the very start, resilient.

Whatever came next, would be a challenge.

“I’m starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha.”

Her lips twisted into a painful grimace, slashing dark onto her pale skin. “For the last five years, I’ve been trying to do one thing: get to right here. That’s all it’s been about. Bringing everybody back.”

“Oh, don’t you get all decent on me now.”

“What, you think I wanna do it? I’m trying to save your life, you idiot.”

Her words, though meant light-heartedly pulled at his heartstrings and for the first time in far too long, Clint wanted to cry. There she was, hopeful and selfless, willing to sacrifice herself for him. As though she was the one who deserved it, truly believing it was worthwhile to lose her life for the better of the human race. There would never be a way for him to prove to her that she was a good person through and through, there was not enough time left in his lungs and beating heart, but there was no doubt flowing through him then that suspected she was anything but. No matter how much red she claimed stained her ledger, Natasha Romanova was a good human being, someone who would do anything for the people she loved. To save them, even when they were undeserving of it.

And in that moment, also, his resolve only grew stronger. What he would do next, was the right thing, for the both of them.

“I don’t want you to,” he finally said, pressing his fingers into her hand, rubbing circles on her pale knuckles. “I...Nat, you know what I’ve done. You know what I’ve become.”

Her eyes glazed, barely holding back glistening tears. “I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes.”

“Maybe you should.”

“You didn’t,” she whispered back.

If he had one dying wish, it would be that someday, she would realise that the actions of her brainwashed past would never define or stain the character she had become - the legacy she had created, of good, for herself. And there was so much he wished he could say, whispers of praise and endearment and that he was sorry for leaving her when she needed him most, for the person he had become - for abandoning her to become the creatures of his nightmares. Clint wanted to say a million things then, let her know he was ashamed every time he looked in the mirror, and that he could not believe he had done all of it - that a part of him knew it really was not right or him, but there was no going back once he fell down the insane path. That though he never said it, she was his family, and the love for her would never ever fade.

But he said none of that. All he did was press his forehead against hers, eyes slipping shut as a dam against his own tears, and whisper, “you’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Natasha just sniffled and gripped his hands tighter.

“Okay,” he choked out, already twisting his feet to move, “you win.”

Clint pulled away then, pausing smile before in a moment of surprise, tackled Natasha to the ground. She stared, shocked up at him and immediately moved to struggle, but was forced back by his heavy grip. Victory, bittersweet victory, already flowed through to his mind and the smile remained, no matter how many tears were building in his eyes.

“Tell my family I love them.”

He moved up, but just before he could run she was grabbing him and forcing him to the ground. It was then Clint’s turn to look surprised, though it quickly turned into a determination to escape. As she took in his defeat, his hands were busied by her waist, ripping off the one thing that would help her most.

“You tell them yourself,” Natasha gritted out, before pushing off and beginning to run.

Her lithe body flew over the rocks and towards the cliff, ready for the jump to her death, but before she could get too far, Clint was ready. He sprung up and notched a plain arrow into his beloved bow. Whispering one last prayer into the wind, he let it fly, pinning her down just as planned. Her shriek was not of pain but of shock. He saw her struggle to break free, but quickly his gaze left hers and drifted towards the cliff.

“No!”

At the very edge, he twisted around to catch her just in time, ready to pounce before he stopped her. Clint notched another arrow, that time pointed towards her heart. Though he would never shoot and she knew that true, Natasha did pause in her steps.

“Clint…”

“This has to be me.”

She was crying freely then, staring at him hopelessly. At that point, he was sure she had realised he had taken the grappling hooks hanging by her waist, and though she had her widow’s bites built into her wrist, if she shot it his frozen body would fall anyways. Gears were turning in her brain, trying to find a solution, but Clint felt no worry for that - it was him that would fall, not her. There was no way it would be any other way.

“You have family,” she choked out, “people to go back to. You need them.”

“This is why I’m doing this, Nat. For them - for you.” His hands trembled, but he stood resolute. “I can’t go back to them, not after what I’ve done.”

“You can’t do this-”

“-I can, and I am.” His lips twisted into a final grin, lips tasting of salt from shed tears. “You make sure they come back, Natasha. Take care of them.”

“Clint…”

Just as she moved, he did too. His arrow finally shot, but not at her heart; instead aimed at her shoulder. Natasha easily dodged it, but he never meant for her to be hit. It was merely a distraction for him to have a chance to jump, falling freely with his last words call of love shouted to her as he did. Clint shut his eyes and genuinely grinned into the fall, accepting his death even before it came.

Before she could move to the edge and mourn, Natasha’s eyes were opening to a different view altogether. She was surrounded by nothing but shallow water and never-ending skies. She opened her hand to see the soul stone itself, glowing against her pale skin. At the sight, she screamed, sound echoing on and on around her as the realisation sunk in of his passing. No tears were shed then, her eyes drier than ever, though they dropped low from the grief.

Without even registering her actions, Natasha found herself shrinking back down and streaming through the Quantum Realm, finally joining the others back in present day - only now alone, shivering, gripping the stone in her hand with her head hung low and the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Five years ago, Natalia Alianova Romanova believed she had no purpose in life.

That was false, for after the Red Room, she had never truly believed she would find a true purpose. Sure, she sought one out and found a place for herself to fit, whether it be at S.H.I.E.L.D or as an Avenger, or even alongside the Nomad and Sam Wilson, trying to keep peace despite how much in shambles the Earth was in - but she always felt left out. For when everyone went home to friends or family or to old memories, she went home to a cold, stiff bed and nightmares that left her tossing and turning all night. People had a reason to fight, others to keep alive - and while she did too, pushing her teammates out of the way of bullets or taking blows to save the innocent, she had no one to devote her love to.

Aside from Clint Barton. A man who had faced hardship after hardship after hardship, a man who should have killed her when he had the chance but instead took her hand and lifted her up. He never looked down at her, or treated her badly because of her actions. Even when he should have turned away, he did not, instead adopting her into his life as though she was family. And even when he found a wife, and settled down at that little farm in the middle of nowhere and had a couple kids, he still welcomed her into his life. He trusted her, loved her enough to be around his babies, drink a beer together and look out towards the sunset like they were just a couple of normal human beings with normal lives. Even when she felt the most alone, he held her hand and told her there was a reason to be alive.

But then he left, and for the first time in a very long time, she was alone again. There was no one by her side, no one to comfort her when the nightly haunts grew to be too much, and certainly no one to talk her down from her own cliffs. Sure, she had Steve, but he was grieving losses of his own - horrible losses that she could not help with. They all were, and she could not blame any of them for shying away and leaving her to find her own path.

It was only with him gone, that Natasha lost sight of her purpose. She was left drowning with no one to keep her afloat, struggling to hold onto what mattered in the five years of emptiness she faced. And though she found temporary solutions, none of it was ever enough to keep her from sobbing into her hands and missing those she had lost. Her friends, her only family, especially the man she had begun to see as her own blood.

As she stood beside his wife, holding the hands of two of his children, staring across the water, it all flashed in her mind. Thoughts of depression, desperation, loss and painful, heart wrenching grief that went on to seemingly no end. The five years that went on for eternity, forever and ever of nothingness. The feeling of hopelessness, believing that she would never see him again. That it was all over and her life, her striving for good, had come to nothing.

But despite the hole left in her heart left by the passing of both Clint and Tony’s deaths, she felt less grief than ever - instead a sense of settlement and peace. For while the loss of her closest friend left her broken, it meant she had a reason to still be alive, and a purpose. There was a reason she was alive and though not all of it was made clear to her just then, Natasha would find it soon enough.

She sighed and looked out across the lake, biting back a ghost of a smile. Her fingers rubbed small circles on the children’s knuckles, her eyes glancing over to where Laura stood teary-eyed. The loss was something they all felt, but one they would get through together. And she would tell them all their husband and their daddy was a true, genuine hero, a man who had done it all just so he could guarantee they would live another day. Just as he would have wanted. His sins redeemed in his final actions.

Her lips moved to mouth a final message to him, just two words he would never see but words she had told him many-a-time before. “Thank you.”

23 notes · View notes

humansunshineao3 · 5 years

Text

Oscar and Tinkerbell

Aline's cat Oscar falls in love with Helen's cat Tinkerbell, and Aline asks her friend Alec for advice.

Content warning for internalised transphobia/low self-esteem: Aline finds it hard to believe that a cis woman genuinely wants to date her with no concerns about her transness, but Alec is there to support her.

“Oscar?!” Aline called, shaking a box of cat food as she stood on her doorstep. It was late, and her cat Oscar had been out for hours. Usually he only stayed out for an hour or so at a time; he wasn’t the most social cat. The only other time he’d been out this late was when he’d gotten stuck up a tree. Aline stopped shaking the box and listened carefully for his meow.

Nothing.

There was no way that he’d been run over; Aline lived in a cul-de-sac, and only two of the five houses had cars. Oscar never wandered further that their street.

Heading back inside to get a torch, resigning herself to a night of looking up trees, Aline sighed. She loved Oscar dearly, he was her best friend, black with white paws and chest, but she could do without his little adventures on a work night. As she straightened up, she heard Oscar’s meow.

“Where have you been, young man?” Aline asked, rolling her eyes as she put the torch back in the drawer.

“Hi.”

Aline jumped out of her skin, snatching the torch back up like a weapon as she whirled around to face whoever had spoken. Her grip on the torch loosened a little when she took in the pretty blonde standing in her doorway, her hand raised like she was about to knock on the open door and Oscar tucked under her other arm looking a bit grumpy.

“Hi,” Aline said breathlessly, her eyes wide. “That’s my cat.”

“Yeah,” the blonde nodded, putting Oscar down. Another cat darted between the blonde’s legs, this one white and ginger. “I found him in my backyard… He and Tinkerbell were, uh… Cuddling.”

“Cuddling?” Aline could barely believe her eyes when she saw Oscar roll over on his back, batting fondly at the white and ginger cat.

“Well… Sort of rubbing up on each other, but Tink’s been fixed, so…”

“Oscar has too,” Aline assured her, “no need to worry about kittens, thank goodness.”

“Yeah, I’m not ready to be a grandma,” the blonde laughed lightly, and Aline smiled.

“They seem to be getting along really well, though. Tinkerbell must be a good influence on him.”

“I like to think so,” the blonde agreed. “I saw on his collar that he lived here and figured I’d bring him back, since it’s getting late. And Tink wasn’t having it, she followed us.”

“I’ve never known Oscar to make friends like this, not since he got fixed.” Aline admitted.

“Tink has that effect on cats,” the blond answered with a smile, “but she doesn’t usually follow them home. I think our cats are in love.”

“They’re cute together,” Aline chuckled, watching the two cats play together, rolling around the hallway floor. When she glanced back up at Tink’s owner, she was looking right at Aline, and Aline cleared her throat, sticking her hand out. “I’m Aline. Aline Penhallow.”

“Helen Blackthorn,” the blond told her, “nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Aline answered. A slightly awkward silence descended as they dropped their hands, both of them looking down at their cats. “So, uh, how far did Oscar go?”

“You know Goldman’s Avenue?”

“Oh yeah, where that house with all the Christmas lights is.” Aline’s eyebrows furrowed. “Damn, I had no idea that Oscar was going that far.”

“I’ve never seen him there before today. I think he must’ve been chased to our backyard by a dog or something.” Helen explained, “I was watching out the window, he seemed pretty freaked when he first ran under the fence.”

Aline tutted, bending to pick Oscar up. “You okay, baby? Did the mean dog get-?”

Oscar had scrambled out of her arms, dropping back down to continue playing with Tinkerbell.

“Wow, I guess you don’t need your Mommy now that you found a girlfriend.” Aline huffed.

“They grow up so fast,” Helen teased.

Aline giggled, nodding. She caught Helen’s eye, nerves fluttering in her stomach when Helen smiled warmly at her. “Um, I have work tomorrow.”

“Oh! Sorry, I’m keeping you up.” Helen apologised, bending down to scoop up Tinkerbell, who meowed unhappily, the sound ending with a soft growl. “Shush, you can play with Oscar another time.”

“Yeah, I mean… If she turns up here I’ll bring her back, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Aline. Maybe I should, um, leave my phone number? Just in case?” Helen suggested, adjusting her grip on Tinkerbell, who was wriggling wildly in an attempt to get back down on the floor. Oscar was standing on his hind legs, his front paws pressed to Helen’s knee.

“Yeah, of course!” Aline scrambled to grab a notepad and a pen. “I’ll write it down.”

Helen rattled off her phone number, and once Aline had recited it back to her, she stuck the post-it note on her fridge. “Cool, well… Call me.”

“If Tinkerbell turns up?” Aline asked, picking up Oscar so he couldn’t follow Helen out the door.

“Or, you know… Whenever,” Helen shrugged, her cheeks a bit pink. “If you’re into that.”

Aline shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was, but she was in her bunny slippers and mismatching pyjamas. “Oh… Okay.”

“Only if you’re into it!” Helen said quickly, “no pressure!”

“I’ll, um… Yeah,” Aline smiled slightly. “Okay.”

Helen breathed out a sigh of relief. “Okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll… Call you.”

“Cool,” Helen nodded, smiling so wide that she showed her teeth. It was cute.

As Aline closed the door she let Oscar leap down out of her arms, glaring at him playfully as he yowled grumpily at her. “Yes, well, I’m mad that they had to leave too. Guess we’re both going to bed alone tonight.”

When her friend Alec asked what she’d gotten up to the night before, Aline couldn’t stop herself from telling him all about Helen and Tinkerbell. She had to pause a couple of times for the two of them to answer their respective phones; they were on company time, after all.

“So you gonna call her tonight?” Alec asked, pulling a bag of Skittles out of the drawer of his desk, tipping the packet towards her.

Aline took a couple and tossed them into her mouth, leaning back in her chair. “I don’t know.”

“Why? You said she was cute.”

“What if she’s a terf?” Aline asked, and Alec wrinkled his nose.

“Did she give off terf vibes?” He checked.

Aline shrugged. “No, but does anybody?”

“Uh, yeah. Terfs give off terf vibes.”

“What are terf vibes?” Aline challenged, raising her eyebrows.

“Pretty much the same thing as ‘I want to talk to the manager’ vibes.” Alec shrugged, “if she’s nice enough to carry that bloody cat for two streets to bring him home, I doubt she’s a rabid transmisogynist.”

“I don’t know, Alec, I don’t know anything about her, she could be anybody.”

Alec huffed. “Look, I know you’re shaken after that shit with that blind date, but there’s no harm in texting this girl and telling her you’re trans. If she’s not interested then she won’t text back, and you’ll have lost nothing.”

“I don’t need to be dating anybody,” Aline argued, “I’m fine by myself.”

“I know that, but the longer you let that bitch Lydia be your last dating experience, the harder it’s gonna be to get back out there. You must like this girl at least a little, or you wouldn’t have told me about her.” Alec pointed out, and Aline frowned. He was right, as usual.

“Alright, I’ll make a deal with you.” Aline said, “I’ll text Helen asking her out if you go and ask out Magnus.”

Alec’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Have you lost your mind?! Keep your voice down!”

“Everyone knows you’re into him, it’s the worst kept secret in the office,” Aline muttered. Alec was glancing over to Magnus’ desk across the room, his cheeks pink.

“And everyone knows he’s way out of my league.” Alec hissed, “which is why I’m perfectly happy to lust after him from a distance.”

Aline folded her arms. “You want me to text Helen? Those are my terms.”

Alec looked between Aline and Magnus, torn. He wanted his friend to go after her happiness, but… He’d been pining for Magnus for weeks, ever since he’d transferred over from their New York offices. Magnus glanced over at him and smiled, his beautiful brown eyes twinkling with amusement, and Alec snapped his eyes away, sliding down in his chair a little. “Fine,” he grumbled, swallowing hard. “Challenge accepted.”

“What?” Aline asked, her eyes widening as Alec got out of his chair and walked across the room to Magnus’ desk. “Shit,” she grumbled, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Asshole.” She peeked over at Magnus’ desk, where Alec was standing before him, his back to Aline. Magnus was smiling, batting his eyelashes at Alec like he was flirting. Aline couldn’t help but smile. It had been painfully obvious ever since Magnus got here that he and Alec were interested in each other.

-Hi Helen, it’s Aline Penhallow. The girl with the cat, Oscar, from last night. Hi. Just a head’s up that I’m transgender. If that’s not okay with you then no hard feelings, but if it is okay I’m wondering if you wanted to come over tonight for some takeout. Aline x

Before she could chicken out, Aline sent the text and put her phone face down on the table. After a couple of minutes pretending to be interested in the spreadsheet she was meant to be working on, Alec sat down next to her with a happy sigh.

“He said yes, we’re going out on Friday,” Alec gushed, “he said he’d been planning to ask me out this week if I didn’t do it first.”

“Duh,” Aline smiled, “it’s been pretty obvious that you’re both into each other. I’m happy for you, Alec.”

“Did you text that girl?” Alec asked, picking up her phone.

“Yes,” Aline reached out to take back her phone, but Alec pushed his chair away from the table, the wheels taking it out of Aline’s reach. “Stop it, she’s probably not gonna reply.”

Alec smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Think again, Penhallow. Looks like you’ve got a date tonight.”

“I do?” Aline snatched her phone from his hand when he held it out, feeling flustered as she read Helen’s reply.

-I was wondering when you were gonna text me! That’s cool, though, you being trans doesn’t make a difference to me but I appreciate your honesty. I’ll see you tonight! Is it okay if I bring Tink? It’d be cute for the cats to have a playdate. Helen x

“She doesn’t care that I’m trans…”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Alec squeezed Aline’s shoulder, “because she’s not an asshole.”

Aline smiled slightly. “Yeah, I guess not.”

“Look at us, asking out the people we like,” Alec said, “we must be growing up.”

“Must be,” Aline laughed. She was excited at the prospect that Helen was interested in getting to know her. It was bad, she knew, that she was so surprised that a woman was attracted to her after knowing that she was trans. Maybe she still had some growing to do, but she had a feeling that if it went well with Helen, it would assuage some of her insecurities.

“Have you texted back?” Alec reminded her, and Aline hummed, unlocking her phone.

-Of course, yeah! You and Tink can come over at 7ish x

“Okay,” Aline sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That was… Not a big a deal as I thought it was going to be.”

Alec shrugged. “You’re a bona fide hottie and sweet as anything, any woman would be lucky to have you.”

“It’s hard for me to see sometimes,” Aline admitted, offering Alec a smile. “Thanks for making me look.”

“I’ve got you,” Alec promised her, nudging her with his shoulder. “Now, what the fuck am I supposed to wear on a date with the best-dressed guy on the East Coast?”

#heline #aline penhallow #helen blackthorn #alec lightwood #malec #trans alec lightwood #trans aline penhallow #shadowhunters fanfic #mundane au #good to reblog #writing #trans author

10 notes · View notes

fille-lioncelle · 6 years

Note

K, S, P, T, Y :) x

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come upwith?

When I was about 15 I wrote a fic that had kidnapping and graphic sexual abuse and amnesia and emotional child abuse because… teenage me didn’t quite grasp the full depth of what any of that meant (thankfully, I guess?) and thought they’d be ~interesting.

I’m currently kinda maybe slightly considering writing a fic where the afterlife is shaped by what people believe and as such Isak and Even have ended up in hell several centuries ago and have over time turned into hell demons whose task it now is to terrorise humans? make sure vice doesn’t die and hell stays populated? just have fun being, well, demons? Honestly I just want an excuse to write a gorey, fucked up, “this isn’t love but I am literally eating your heart, don’t worry, it’ll grow back. probably.” scenes. Um. Not sure I’ll ever do that, but if I do…. I guess you heard it here first?

On a slightly more realistic note I’ve also been toying with the idea of writing a fic in which Isak has to deal with some internalised biphobia. And other internalised shit.

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would callan “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan inadvance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

My story planning process goes as follows:

“What about a story where [insert elaborate setup]??”

?????

and then they fall in love

This is probably why I tend to write one-shots, because I’m not always interested in filling the ????? space with many words. When I do, I need at least a vague outline, because otherwise I will simply get bored. I am still much more of a “I’ll just go with this” person than a planner though. That’s probably also why most things tend to be longer than I intended.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Oh man. I love so many tropes. I love any combination of enemies to friends (with benefits) to lovers kind of stuff. I love “and they were ROOMMATES!”. I love fake dating. I love royalty AUs. I love Pride and Prejudice AUs. I love Harry Potter/Hogwarts AUs. I love any and all kind of magic AUs. I love the ridiculous “x character has randomly turned into a cute animal - PANIC!” AUs. I love artist AUs (any kind of art, including literary). I weirdly love tennis AUs??? Or most sports AUs actually. Just. The kind where you can tell the person is writing about a field that means a lot to them. There was a time when 1D fandom had TONS of marine biology AUs suddenly??? Brilliant. BAKING AUs!! COFFEESHOP AUs!! Mythology AUs! If it’s at all a ridiculous rom com trope, I’m probably there, though execution does matter.

And that’s not even getting into the many sexy tropes.

Oh no we must fuck cuddle for warmth. Oh no, you walked in on me masturbating and now you can’t stop thinking about it. Oh no, we must practice kissing and it’s going too far. (ACTORS AU!) And the classics, like sex pollen, or fuck or die, even though both of those are dub con AF.

… I’m gonna stop now. But basically, I love tropey things as much as I love trope subversion. If someone’s done something clever with a trope, I will literally sit there going “ohohoho!” gleefully.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

Jealousy. Man, jealousy as a romantic trope will have me groaning deep as the Mariana Trench. Any kind of trope that’s more about character/behaviour than circumstance, probably, because the cool thing about tropes is having different characters react to the same circumstances in their ways. Not having all characters act exactly the same. So though it’s not anything specific, as soon as a certain dynamic or a character trait or something becomes overpronounced to the point where it starts to feel like caricature rather than a genuine character trait I tend to not be super into it.

Y: A character you want to protect.

You know that buzzfeed (?) video where they get people drunk and then they bring in the puppies and that one woman starts crying and goes “I can’t protect them”? That’s me. Re every character I like, pretty much.

#anon asks #fic meme

5 notes · View notes

emily-420 · 7 years

Text

Title: magicians are con artists who steal both your money and your ability to trust Fandom/pairing: yugioh gx, manjoume/misawa, shou/kenzan, unrequited manjoume/judai, unrequited manjoume/asuka Words: 2311 Warnings: mild internalised homophobia Summary: The Love Magician's next big act is, apparently, pulling relationships out of a hat. Or a bottle, as it were.

ao3

Fubuki breezes into Manjoume’s wing of the Red dorm with a bottle, an innocuous smile that fools precisely Judai and no one else, and a scheme. The group pauses, taking their attention away from the movie that never quite held it in the first place, and stares at him as one vast, many-eyed body.

“What is it, Fubuki-nii-san,” Asuka asks tiredly from the couch, where she has strategically placed Judai between herself and Manjoume, who is sulking with the popcorn and steadfastly avoiding getting any of Judai’s many hairs in his mouth.

“It occurred to me,” he says mystically, coming to stand in front of the TV like it’s some grand podium, “that you poor children have probably never had the chance to play spin the bottle, and as your senpai and mentor, I feel it’s my duty to correct that.”

“I’m leaving,” Asuka says flatly, rising from the couch and leaving with her usual grace and dignity, and any excitement Manjoume might have felt dies a sad, tragic death.

“Oh well,” Fubuki says, “I guess that was bound to happen. But still! You have to play spin-the-bottle with your friends at least once! It’s a rite of passage!”

“Is it now,” Shou says from the floor, those three words holding as much disdain as is conceptually possible. Misawa, cross-legged next to him, has a face on him like he strongly agrees, but would also like to avoid saying so at cost of death.

“As far as I know,” Misawa starts very carefully, as if Fubuki actually cares if anyone disagrees with him or not, “it is a common practice among teenagers, but – with all due respect – I don’t see that it adds any significant value to one’s youth.”

Surely, Misawa believes he’s made his case with psychology on his side. The poor fool clearly hasn’t realised that Fubuki is a chaotic being outside the reach of trivial things like science and reason. “Oh, but it does!” Fubuki says cheerfully, presenting the empty bottle, which presumably once held something that was very much banned on campus, as if it is now filled with the secrets of the universe.

“Spin the bottle,” Fubuki informs them quite seriously, “is a wondrous game that can open new doors you’d never thought were available to you. It will give you confidence, make you question yourself, and ultimately strengthen the bonds between you all. Yes! That is the power of the bottle – to build up not just the individual, but also the unit!”

“That sounds cool!” Judai, the lone member of the group to be moved at all by this performance, says excitedly. “So how does it work?”

There’s a resounding pause where they all consider this piece of information. Manjoume is somehow smug and frustrated at the same time, which is not a new experience for him around Judai, but not one he necessarily enjoys, either. Honestly, he thinks to himself, even Misawa knows what it is. Misawa. How Judai managed to make it through middle school without anything having any bearing on relationships or sexuality entering his consciousness was a miracle the likes of which was surely unprecedented.

For the brief few moments where Fubuki happily explains spin the bottle to Judai, Manjoume enters another state of being that is far removed from anything related to Judai or bottles. And then he’s back, and quite possibly mirroring Shou, Misawa and Kenzan’s sour but relieved expressions – sour that any of this is happening in the middle of their movie evening, but relieved that they aren’t the ones who had to bite the bullet and fill Judai in.

Not that Judai gets why pressing faces with your friends is an activity that the average teenager would rather jump off a cliff than consider. “Okay,” he says, confused, “but I don’t know how to do that.”

Shou cuts in before Fukubi can let some new horror escape his mouth. “It doesn’t matter, Aniki. We’re not playing this game, right, guys?”

Kenzan nods emphatically on Shou’s other side. Flanked by him and Misawa, Shou looks like a very small boss-man with his henchman. Fubuki’s smile gains an even eerier dimension to it. “Oh,” he says, feigning innocent again, “Shou-kun, don’t tell me you’re afraid you’ll have to kiss Kenzan-kun?”

“No!” Shou protests reflexively, and then seems to realise all sorts of implications as a veritable salad of emotions flitter across his stricken face. “I mean, not that I want to – but it’s not like I’m scared, either–“

“So you wouldn’t mind?” Fubuki smiles sweetly. Shou frowns his frowniest frown. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Since Kenzan is definitely too scared to kiss you, Shou-kun.”

“I am not!” Kenzan protests, as reflexively as Shou had. Manjoume, seeing clearly what Fubuki is up to and not looking forward to the verbal warfare that’s sure to come, tunes the rest out. Next to him, Judai looks as puzzled as ever. Manjoume realises he still has the popcorn in his lap and offers the bowl to Judai to give the boy’s poor exhausted brain a break and receives a slap on the shoulder and several hairs in his mouth for the effort. He removes them primly and discards them over the edge of the sofa to get vacuumed up later.

On the floor, Misawa is carefully edging away from Shou and Kenzan, clearly trying to avoid being pounced on to decide who’s right. Fubuki stands in the middle of the room, backlit by the paused movie, arms crossed and inordinately proud.

Just as Shou and Kenzan progress to a form of mouth-based psychological battle that Manjoume frankly could have gone without witnessing, Asuka strides back in with a spray bottle and a cross look.

“Fubuki!” she chides, all formality down the trash chute along with the nice evening they had been having before pestilence showed his face. “If you keep messing with people like this I’m telling our parents you’ve been drinking,” she tells him, and sprays him right in his smug face.

Apparently, this is all it takes to get rid of him.

A few nights later, Manjoume is poking moodily at a fire in the forest. Things in the Red dorm had gotten weirder than before, which should have been functionally impossible, but it seems Fubuki has no problems breaking the laws of the universe. While Kenzan and Shou had previously absconded to Ra now and then – ostensibly to see their other friends, but Manjoume had heard them say it was for the food when Judai wasn’t around – they had both taken up the habit of making sure they’re around other people at all times, as if they can’t trust themselves to be alone without jumping each other.

That’s weird enough. Manjoume could no longer look at either of them without the memory of their aggressive making out helpfully coming to the forefront of his traitorous mind. What’s worse, Judai has decided that kissing looks very exciting and would someone please do it with him.

It was terrible. Afwul. Just the worst. Manjoume was barely restraining himself from agreeing and kissing Judai’s stupid pretty mouth until he understood what it meant.

It was a Bad Idea. The kind of Bad Idea that his brothers would probably not like. Manjoume scowls as hard as his eyebrows can scowl and prods the fire like it’s the one responsible for his emotional hang-ups.

“Oh, there you are,” someone calls, and Manjoume twists around to see Misawa walking towards him through the dark in the sweatpants his sleeps in and his school boots. “Judai said you’d gone missing,” Misawa says as he takes a seat on the log Manjoume had conscripted as a seat. “I think he thinks maybe you ran off to North again.”

Manjoume snorts. “Nope. Still here.”

For a few minutes they sit without speaking, watching the fire and listening to the bats shrieking in the trees above them. Manjoume is glad Misawa is here; he doesn’t particularly like being alone, and Misawa is probably his best friend, even if they haven’t talked about it. They tend to gravitate towards each other, after all – sitting together and commenting softly – Misawa always does make him feel especially warm–

Oh. So that’s what that is.

“So what’s the matter?” Misawa asks, not looking at him. Manjoume appreciates that. It’s like he understands his vulnerabilities and has chosen to respect them. I, Manjoume realises, have it bad.

“Judai is an idiot,” he says, instead of ‘I just realised I have three crushes and I don’t know what to do with them.’

Misawa nods sagely. “What did he do now?”

Manjoume sighs as if he has the collective weight of Jupiter’s moons on his shoulders. He might as well for all he’s suffering. “Well, since those other two have apparently realised that making out like they’re trying to punish each other is better than actually fighting, Judai has decided that he wants to try it too. And neither of them will have the decency to kiss him, because they ‘respect him too much as a brother,’ or some other nonsense. So he won’t leave me alone.”

“I see,” Misawa says, quiet and serious, the sound of his voice camouflaged among the crackling of the fire. Their shoulders are touching; Manjoume holds very still in an attempt to act nonchalant. Misawa still doesn’t look at him as he asks, “You’re scared, right?”

A sideways look at Misawa’s face, bathed in firelight, tells him that he’s not being made fun of. “Of what?”

Misawa glances at him, slightly evaluating. “Something real.” Before Manjoume can let out a weak protest – something about how his love for Asuka was 100% genuine, no doubt – Misawa ploughs forward like a steam train in midwinter. “You know. Like, if something actually happens, you can’t pretend you’re not feeling what you’re feeling.”

A noise comes from Manjoume’s throat that may or may not have wanted to be words. “How’d you know?”

“Asuka,” Misawa says with a wry smile. He looks Manjoume directly in the eyes and Manjoume gets warmer in the face than sitting moodily in front of a fire for forty-five minutes would call for and tries to look very interested in the way the twigs are slowly turning to ash.

“I do like her, you know,” Manjoume mutters. “I just also…”

“I wasn’t trying to say you didn’t.” Misawa leans his elbows on his knees. For someone who’s wearing a hasty mix of school uniform and pyjamas, he looks pretty mature. “It just seems to me that you focus on your feelings for her because it’s safe. I get that.”

Manjoume blinks at him. “You should be a therapist.”

He’s gifted with a chuckle for that. “No thanks.” There’s a beat in between, a slice of the night where that one chuckle curls gently around them and lingers like sweet incense. Then Misawa asks, “Is it harder for you? With your brothers? You don’t have to tell me, but.”

Manjoume considers the offered out, considers Misawa’s hunched-over shoulders and the way he’s rubbing his hands together, the slightest admission of cold. “Yes,” he says, blunt and more than a little distant.

A bat chatters, in that squeaky way of theirs. “I’m sorry,” Misawa says softly. Manjoume swallows, and tries not to outwardly show how wondrously bittersweet it feels to have told someone that for the first time.

“Yeah,” Manjoume says, at a loss.

Even through the solid army of foot-soldier trees, the ocean wind reaches them, especially chilling in the enveloping night. “So, will you kiss Judai?” Manjoume asks, half-curious, but mostly wanting to stop feeling like he’s going to cry. “Because at this rate he’s going to get desperate and ask Fubuki, and I don’t want to know what’ll happen if it comes to that.”

Misawa grins at him. “Well, if no one else will…”

Immediately, with the clarity and familiarity that comes from talking ambiguously about your sexuality with someone in the dead of night, Manjoume understands this to be Misawa’s own oblique way of coming out to him. He’s unexpectedly touched. “Go on then,” he says softly. “If you can live with yourself knowing that he hasn’t got a clue.”

His grin turns very wry very quickly. “Spoilsport.”

Manjoume shrugs and stands, brushing off the back of his coat. “Come on, help me put this out.”

The fire is quickly stoned into non-existence in much the same way Manjoume wishes he could do with his feelings half the time. Just before they leave the sanctuary of the forest, Manjoume stills Misawa with a slight touch to his forearm.

“Hey, um…” For someone who’s spent the last while talking about their feelings, the words are hard to get out. Maybe he’s hit his monthly quota or something. “Thanks for this,” he says, mouth dry. “I, um, know you don’t really like this stuff…”

In the dark, he can’t read Misawa’s face, but his pause seems measured. “It’s okay,” Misawa says finally. “Sometimes you have to think about it. I… Well, it sounds stupid, but I realised I’m not just a brain. I have a heart too.”

“…You know emotions are chemically registered in the–” Misawa whacks him playfully on the arm before he can finish, and Manjoume giggles. “Well, I’m grateful anyway. You’re a good friend.”

Misawa pauses again and Manjoume becomes very conscious of the fact that he’s still touching his arm. He can’t read this silence. His fingertips curl slightly into the fabric of Misawa’s school jacket. “Huh,” Misawa says. “That’s the first time you’ve called me your friend.”

“Oh. Well.” Manjoume clears his throat primly. “Don’t get used to it,” he says, dropping his hand and marching off towards the welcoming halo of light around the Red dorm. He hears Misawa snort as he follows him and feels, somehow, that it’s going to be okay.

#yugioh gx #manjoume jun #misawa daichi #hornetshipping #jurassicshipping

30 notes · View notes

quincette · 7 years

Photo

SUMMARY AND COMMENTS ON HOTARU’S SECOND TENKA TSUKI EVENT STORY AS YOUR LOVE INTEREST.

LINK TO THE FIRST PART HERE

So this story event gives us a glimpse into Hotaru’s psyche. Poor boy’s been living in a bubble and is all shades of fucked up inside but there’s that childlike innocence to him that draws the MC. I am 100% sure Tsuki MC is slightly older than him. Anyways, SPOILER ALERT, summary and comments after the break.

So the story starts in Mitsuba Clan’s village. The whole clan is on the run because they have broken ties with Iga. Kaede has just returned from liaising with Oda Nobunaga and she is worried that war between Nobu and Iga will start soon and that Mitsuba will be caught in the middle - they need to evacuate somewhere safe.

Echigo comes to mind as Nobu has no power in Uesugi’s domain. Then it was decided that MC is to go to Echigo to find out the living conditions there and what kind of a ruler Kenshin is.

MC: Kaede you’ve been to Echigo, what kind of a place is it?

Kaede: Cold, snowbound place. But Kasugayama town is warmer somewhat… I think it’s the people there.

After walking around the town for a bit. MC notices a dango shop and it takes her back to the time she took Hotaru to a dango shop. She wondered if he’s alright when she heard his voice, calling her name.

It is Hotaru. She was both happy and a little caught off guard because she doesn’t think it’ll be a good think if people know who she is.

Hotaru is with Kagetsugu, who chides him for not immediately eating the dango he bought him and now they have hardened. Kagetsugu sighs (no, really, he pouts and that’s will never be not cute) and says that he would buy him some more but Hotaru had better eat them immediately. Hotaru smiles smiles smiles.

(these two together are LETHAL)

Kagetsugu notices MC and Hotaru introduces them.

Hotaru: This is the person who has shown me many things (lol)

Terrified that he might give her identity as a shinobi away, she admitted that she’s in Kasugayama to find work as a pharmacist/healer. Hotaru concurs, saying that MC’s medicine is the best.

Then Kenshin breezes through, all sparkly and smiley and sandalwoody and admits to the boys and MC that he is escaping the castle, then after a brief exchange of pleasantries with his people, runs away.

Hotaru calls Kenshin just “Kenshin”, without honorifics whatsoever, and they were really casual MC wonders if this Kenshin is that Uesugi Kenshin.

When they had parted ways, MC was about to go back home when she heard a scream from the woods. She followed the sound to find blood-spattered Hotaru killing a man. She was both surprised and not so surprised seeing this - Hotaru is an Iga shinobi afterall.

There are three people with him. She recognises Kagetsugu, who is talking to Hotaru, but not the other two. When she was about to go away, she’s caught by Kageie (who accuses her of being a Hojo spy) and Kanetsugu and taken to Kasugayama.

They decide to wait for Kenshin to pass judgement since no one can prove if MC is or is not a spy. Then Kenshin, recognises her.

Kenshin: Oh, I met her before. You are the medicine girl in town, right?

Kanetsugu: What?

Kenshin: Yes, she was with Hotaru.

Kanetsugu: In town? You said you were in the castle the whole day.

Kenshin: Well, that’s…

(Kenshin is so busted, he got an earful from Kanetsugu)

Hotaru arrives with Kagetsugu and Yoshichi and immediately corroborate Kenshin’s story. But it still doesn’t prove MC’s innocence, says Kageie.

Yoshichi: But Hotaru doesn’t tell lies.

Kagetsugu: Doesn’t mean he tells us the truth all the time.

Hotaru: MC is not the enemy.

Kageie: There’s no way to prove that, though.

Hotaru: Don’t hurt MC.

Hotaru shields MC from everyone else. MC is both terrified and doki-doki. Kenshin diffuses the situation by saying that he believes MC (because of course he does, the wind tells him so) and since Hotaru vouches for her healing ability, he gives her a job as the castle’s medic/pharmacist.

So MC spends the night in a new room with a new job and falls asleep while still trying to make sense of what is happening.

The next morning Hotaru calls her out in front of her room. He was with Kenshin (ever so sparkly) and Kenshin invites her for a walk out of the castle. MC prefers not to attract attention lest her cover was blown.

MC: Why?

Kenshin: Why? Do you need a reason to take a walk on a beautiful day?

Hotaru: *smiles smiles smiles*

So MC agrees to join their little excursion.

Then Kanetsugu appears.

Kanetsugu: And where, do you think you’re going?

Kenshin is dragged back by his scruff (lol) and he wails, you two, carry on the mission without me~~~~

So Hotaru takes MC to a field where small white flowers bloom. He said that Kenshin brought him the place and he thinks it’s beautiful that’s why he wants to show it to MC. MC is touched seeing him so happy, like the cold-blooded killer in him is just a nightmare.

Afterwards, they have dango and Hotaru licks the side of MC's lips because she has tasty dango morsel on his face (if this is the side effect of growing up only accompanied by a cat then I am all for it!!!) and go back to the castle. The castle is a rustle because the Hojo is going to attack. Kenshin mobilises everyone to the war council but he asks Hotaru to stay out. Hotaru is sad.

Hotaru: Why?

Kenshin: Hotaru-kun, what do you think about taking someone’s life?

Then he just smiles and leaves to his war council. They left shortly after, leaving the castle rather quiet. MC is trying to console the forlorn Hotaru.

Hotaru: Did, I do badly? (he phrased it as if he thinks Kenshin was disappointed with his performance/ability)

MC says nothing because one one side she understands what Kenshin is trying to make Hotaru learn and on another she has ideas about how Hotaru was raised and how that had shaped him into a ruthless killer - lol, all thinking and no talking or doing - are you an INTP, MC?)

So she tried small talks.

MC: Ne, Hotaru-kun, are here on a mission from Iga?

Hotaru says nothing. So MC swtiches subject.

MC: What do you do with your spare time in Iga?

Hotaru: Read books, play toys…

MC: Oh, with your older brother? or friends?

Hotaru: No, just… with myself.

MC HAS FEELS. I HAS FEELS. MY POOR BABYY FIREFLY.

Hotaru: Oh, but Tora is there.

MC: Mmm, Tora has always been there, hasn’t he?

Hotaru smiles.

MC: Do you, like it here?

Hotaru’s smile widens.

Hotaru: It’s warm here. Everyone plays with you - sometimes all of them at the same time.

(he used the word “fuwafuwa” to describe the warmth of the clan - that steamy warmth you get from hot food and fluffy steamed goodies - I cried)

Then, suddenly, Hotaru is back on asking MC why Kenshin didn’t take him with the others. MC still has no answer. So she’s trying to dstract Hotaru by playing with him.

Then one day as she’s feeding the carps, Yoshichi is running around to find him and asks her help in calming Hotaru down (by distracting him some more) because he is going to go after Kenshin.

It doesn’t work though and Hotaru takes off. MC went after him.

One battlefield, the Uesugi has the upper hand and the Hojo are retreating. Kanetsugu asks Kenshin if they should pursue. Kenshin orders Kagetsugu and Kageie to drive them away, and to do just that.

When MC catches up with Hotaru, it was in the forest splashes red with blood. Hotaru has decimated the retreating enemy. The white flowers on the forest floors are now red and dirty.

The Kages were shocked. Kenshin says flatfly “We’re gong home.”

Hotaru: Did I do badly?

MC’s heart is breaking.

Hotaru: They’re got all so dirty now, referring to the red-spattered flowers.

MC kneeled next to him and took his blood spattered hand with hers.

Hotaru: I’ll get them dirty!

MC: yes, killing people is one way to get them dirty.

MC internalises that as much as she wants to say it’s wrong she can’t because it’s all Hotaru’s been taught.

Back at Kasugayama, they are victorious but somber. Kenshin calls MC.

Kenshin: You are not a pharmacist, are you?

MC stiffens.

Kenshin: Not an ordinary city girl either. You didn’t flinch at the sight of so much blood being spilled.

MC gives him credit for being sharper than he looks.

Kenshin: So, a shinobi, is it?

Seeing no better way, she prostrates herself and apologises, and explaining her family’s situation and the things that drive them to run.

Kenshin smiles.

Kenshin: So you weren’t lying when you said you’re looking for a job. And that explains your skill with medicine.

Apparently, MC did a really good job in the aftermath of the battle so Kenshin welcomes her to Kasugayama. I guess in this version, women are allowed to reside in the castle.

Then Kenshin calls Hotaru and curtly tells him that he thanks him for his service but not his killing those people.

Kenshin: If you’re going to take someone’s life. Prepare yourself.

(I think he meant it that he should feel something or take responsibility or something, gah, my apology, my Japanese is not good enough to catch the nuances of his words)

Then he left the hall.

Kanetsugu: he cares for you, you know.

Hotaru is sad and goes to the roof to think.

MC sits with him.

Hotaru: Why is he angry at me?

MC: I don’t think he’s angry at you…

Hotaru: Did I do badly?

MC: Hotaru-kun, what do you think when you’re takig someone’s life?

Hotaru: It’s a duty, isn’t it?

MC: when you kill someone, there are people who will not be seeing them again tomorrow and the next day and the next day…

Hotaru: That’s sad…

MC: Yes. I think, Kenshin-sama wants you to understand that.

Hotaru was silent for a bit before he stands up.

Hotaru: I want to apologise to Kenshin. Will you come with me?

He takes MC hands and they fly to the flower fields, where Hotaru picks a small bouquet for Kenshin.

Hotaru: I hope he’ll forgive me.

MC smiles. How could he not?

(I AM SO PUMPED THAT WE GET TO SEE MORE OF THE UESUGI CLAN SHENANIGANS AND KENSHIN, KENSHIN I LOVE YOU MY SPARKLY SANDALWOODY POPINJAY!)

#samurai love ballad party #slbp #kirigakure hotaru #slbp hotaru #uesugi kenshin #slbp kenshin #tenka moon chapter #samurai love ballad #Tenka Touitsu Koi no Ran

312 notes · View notes