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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

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T.W.A.A: The Eccedentesiast

This is a one shot I started last night and I finished it at around 2 am because I’m an insomniac. Sadly this isn’t the 10k+ word one shot I was talking about (I’m still writing it aaa) but this one is around 4-5k words long so I hope you enjoy. This is rushed, badly written, badly plotted and badly named.

TW: Dark topics such as sexual assault and suicide is mentioned in this piece of writing.

Paris, the City of Love, what a big misconception that was. If anything, Paris should've been labeled as the City of Misery considering the fact it was haunted by a villain who preyed on negative emotions. No one outside of Paris knew though, they were oblivious to the fact hundreds, thousands even millions had died in the city home to the Eiffel Tower, only to be resurrected and tormented with the memories of their death. It was worse for Marinette though, she had watched all the citizens, her beloved citizens, die before her eyes and she was powerless to help them. Their screams of anguish and cries of pain forever ghosted her nightmares. It wasn't just their blood that she drowned in, she was bullied, abused and betrayed in her civilian form by those she trusted the most.

Her classmates. She thought she could trust them but they left her for someone shinier and newer. They all hurt her, destroyed her hard work, verbally and physically bullied her. Nino and Kim, her childhood friends had turned their backs on her too, even joining the others in causing her physical and emotional pain. Alya, her best friend, had become her main abuser. The reporter stabbed the poor bluenette in the back, figuratively. Lila was the one who did it literally. Lila, the sound of the name itself made Marinette sick, after all, the brunette was the one who did this to her. She made her friends turn their backs on her, she made them abuse her and she only watched with fake crocodile tears and a smug smile when no one was looking. And Adrien, he was the worst of all. When Marinette was younger, Adrien was the embodiment of perfection. But now? All she could see was a spineless coward and a predator.

As Chat Noir, he wouldn't participate in the battles, only flirting with her hero persona. He would whine like a toddler when she rejected his advancements. Even when he did join in the battles, he was useless, ignoring anything that Ladybug would tell him and go straight for the kill which never worked. Chat Noir was incompetent and a sexual harasser. As Adrien, however, he was much more. Just two days ago, he had tried to sexually assault the young bluenette. The blonde had underestimated the girl and she managed to get away but nothing could erase her memory of the event.

The ultimatum Lila had delivered to Marinette when she thirteen seemed over-dramatic and seemingly impossible at the time. Yet three years later, she was at the point of no return. Her classmates, her friends, her teachers, the boy she once loved, her partner, her parents. They all left her. Mayor Bourgeois, fearing for his daughter's safety, had sent Chloe to New York with her mother. Luka was on tour with his father so they could build a better relationship. Kagami had a family affair back in Japan that would last for at least a month. She was truly alone. Her parents had fallen victim to Lila's lies and Marinette overheard them discussing about kicking her out. The only one by her side throughout the whole ordeal was Tikki, her beloved kwami. Even Master Fu had to leave her.

Marinette felt shut out by the rest of the world. Sure, Paris adored Ladybug but it felt different. She was fighting battles alone, she stood as the last survivor, the last protector of Paris. She took that title in stride, or that's what the Parisians thought. In reality, she was hiding behind a mask.

The bluenette had suffered endlessly for years, she was ready to break that cycle of torture. Yesterday, she came to the solid conclusion of who Hawkmoth was, who is accomplices were and what his motive was. Gabriel Agreste was the man behind Paris' torment, Nathalie Sancœr was one of his accomplices and so was Lila Rossi. For his motive, he wanted to bring his wife back. Marinette understood the pain he was in but she wouldn't go to such extreme lengths as he did. Many years ago, Marinette made a friend, one of her very best friends who she fell for. But she never told anyone who he was, where he came from or even the fact that she met someone. The reason behind this was the fact she witnessed his murder. That death, of all she witnessed, was the most heartbreaking. Even when all these years have passed, she never truly got over his death. His green eyes always lingered her mind.

The bluenette let out an anguished sigh, she was on the Eiffel Tower, admiring the city's skyline despite all its obvious flaws under close inspection. Though Marinette had drastically mentally changed, she would always put on the same mask, she would always portray herself as a regular school girl. This was the one time she felt a little peace in her chaotic excuse for a life. Her blue eyes stared off into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular when she heard footsteps coming from behind. In her peripheral vision, Marinette could see the figure of Gabriel Agreste slowly approaching. Not wanting anything to happen, she made her knowledge of her appearance known.

"I never expected to see you somewhere so public, Monsieur Agreste" Her voice remained neutral. Gabriel didn't flinch meaning that he had expected her to sense his arrival, it made the young girl slightly unnerved but she refused to show it.

"The Eiffel Tower holds the greatest inspiration, as a designer yourself I'm sure you are aware" Marinette was used to his cold voice by now, she kept her guard up reminding herself that this was Hawkmoth was standing a few feet away.

She hummed, putting the two miraculous users in a deathly silence, until she decided to break it. "You know, you could've just asked" The older man raised an eyebrow in confusion but Marinette never looked in his direction, "It would've saved a lot of bloodshed"

Gabriel managed to catch up with what she was saying. "Are you implying that I am Hawkmoth?" He didn't sound offended or defensive, merely curious.

"I'm not implying anything" She replied curtly, then turning to face him. "I am merely stating a fact"

The miraculous user turned away from her, focusing his gaze on the city's skyline once more. "What are you going to do with this knowledge?"

The question confused Marinette, surely he would've attacked her or try to get her to remain silent?

He must've noticed her confusion. "Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't say anything"

Marinette turned her full body towards the taller man, she was going to end Hawkmoth's reign as quickly as she could. "I can heal her"

"What?"

"I can heal her" The bluenette repeated. "Emilie"

Gabriel also turned to face her, his usual cold scowl was replaced with a staggered expression. "Y-you can? Even after all I've done as Hawkmoth?"

Her head twisted back to portrait that was Paris. "To end it all, yes I will"

"Then please, follow me and I promise I will give you my miraculous as well as Mayura's. Just, heal my wife please" His tone changed from intrigued to pleading, Marinette could see that he meant every word.

"Oh don't worry... I will"

~~~

"I did it!" Tim's voice echoed in the Batcave.

"Did what replacement?"

"I found Hawkmoth's identity!"

Around three months ago, Wonder Woman had noticed Green Lantern trying to delete a video. She stopped him before he successfully did the task and watched the video herself, calling a meeting to express her anger about the situation. Most were shaken since they had never seen the Amazonian this livid before. She briefly explained how her mother was once a miraculous user and how powerful these magical jewelry could be. Aqua Man also shared his concerns, revealing that the fall of Atlantis was due to the miraculous. They knew the logical decision was to work on this from outside of Paris, the villain preyed on negative emotions and they had been ignoring the Parisians' calls for help for four years. Their sudden appearance would definitely trigger the heroes. So in the last month, they had gathered files of nearly every person in Paris as well as all the necessary information about every akuma attack. It was tiring for the Bats but they trudged through it anyway.

Damian had taken a special interest in the spotted-heroine specifically, without the knowledge of any of his family members. She appeared similar to a female friend he had made quite some time ago, the one who had witnessed an assassination attempt on him. He saddened him to no end knowing that the friend he loved thought he was dead. The green-eyed boy became one hundred percent convinced that this hero was his friend.

One day, Dick had caught him in the Batcave observing a recently taken image of the Ladybug heroine. His older brother thought that Damian was crushing on the lady and began to tease him as others entered the cave.

"Tt, that's not true" the green-eyed boy retaliated.

"If you don't have a crush on Ladybug then why are you staring at an image of her?" Dick added more information necessary so that his younger brothers could join in on teasing his youngest brother.

The Robin vigilante sighed and brought everyone's attention to the screen. "See that?"

"All I see is this little lady Demon Spawn" Jason's smirk was quickly gone when he noticed Damian's serious expression.

"She's alone" he stated simply and before anyone could get a word in, her explained further. "There is usually a team with her"

Everyone seemed to lean closer to the screen.

"She's fighting alone. Her 'partner' doesn't participate in the battles anymore, he stays on the sidelines, observing" He let the others catch up to what he was saying. "The attacks have been lasting a lot longer than usual, Ladybug leads a super hero team correct? Then why is she fighting alone this time."

"They could have all been killed... We have to go to Paris to help the poor girl" Dick turned to Bruce. "Who knows how much longer she'll last alone fighting a psycho butterfly man!"

Bruce's fatherly instincts were screaming at him from merely looking at the photo. "I'll announce to the League that we'll be joining the fight in Paris"

~~~

Gabriel lead Marinette to his office, Nathalie wearily watching. Just as he was about to open the double doors, his assistant collapsed in uncontrollable coughing. Marinette was much faster than the older man so she got to the woman first. The bluenette carefully put Nathalie down on one of the chairs available while putting her hand on where she thought the assistant would where the peacock brooch. The blue-eyed girl could sense the broken miraculous' energy trapped in the woman so she did the only reasonable thing she could at that moment, she extracted the corrupted magic, healing Nathalie almost instantly. Marinette ignored Gabriel's relieved expression and gestured for him to lead her to Emilie.

"When this is over, I wish to have a restraining order against your son"

"May I ask why?"

"..."

"...I understand, I'll make sure to tell Nathalie"

The older man stopped before a painting of his wife, his fingers reached for the painted shapes and pressed on them, revealing an elevator to which he went down in. Following his motion, Marinette placed her hand on the painting and allowed herself to descend down the mansion. It lead her to a repository with a catwalk which lead to a circular platform covered in luscious greenery. In the middle on the platform was a class-covered cryogenic pod which the sleeping body of Emilie Agreste lay. The bluenette carefully made her way to the glass casket, placing her hand on the transparent material when she finally reached her destination. Focusing all her energy, a red light erupted from her finger tips and it soaked into Emilie's skin. Gabriel opened the pod, carefully watching his wife as Marinette took a step back. Suddenly her eyes fluttered open.

"G-Gabriel, what happened?"

The man didn't reply, he simply hugged the woman of his dreams before turning the the young girl.

"I... Thank you Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, I can give you the miraculous now if-"

"Ladybug will be at the Eiffel Tower soon, I suggest you give the miraculous to her then"

Gabriel nodded and thanked the girl once more as she left. Before she reached the lift that would lead her back up to Gabriel's office, Marinette turned to face the newly reunited couple.

"Enjoy the happiness in your life, Monsieur Agreste, you never know when it may end"

She then turned to leave, not wanting to here what her former idol had to say. When she reached the main floor of the Agreste Mansion, Marinette was greeted by Nathalie. The bluenette acknowledged the assistant with a nod, meaning that Emilie was awake. The assistant let out a sigh of relief and rushed to Adrien's room, not wanting to be around the blonde boy, Marinette promptly left. Once out of the premises of the mansion, she transformed and waited for Gabriel to return the miraculous. What she didn't realise was that the Justice League would also be coming to pay her a visit.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the miraculous to be handed back to her but the bluenette was patient. She waited four years for this moment, but she had to share the moment alone. It was bittersweet. Soon enough Gabriel arivied, hastily giving Ladybug both the brooches with apologetic eyes and leaving without a word. The spotted heroine presumed that he wanted to get back to his wife and son, she couldn't blame him. Ladybug reached for her yo-yo teary-eyed, she was going to put both miraculous in her weapon before returning them in the miracle box but she stopped when she heard multiple figures approaching where she was standing.

~~~

Batman and his sons were the ones to go to Paris and alert Ladybug of their findings. The five men found themselves in front of the Eiffel Tower, Tim found out that was were the heroes would return to after their patrol.

"We must tell Ladybug right away" Batman pulled out his grappling hook and flung himself to one of the higher levels, all but Robin followed suit.

The vigilante had a feeling to remain on a lower level. He wanted to be reunited with his long lost friend but he couldn't find the words. Simply, he used his grappling hook to bring him onto one of the beams, low enough so he couldn't be seen but high enough to hear any conversation.

"Greetings, Ladybug" His father's voice echoed through the quiet building.

"Monsieur Batman? Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice sounded almost exactly as he remembered, of course it sounded deeper and more matured but it had a more desolated edge to it.

~~~

"We apologize for not intervening earlier but we didn't know how well we needed to control our emotions" Red Hood watched as Nightwing brushed a hand through his hair nervously.

"But we can help now!" Red Robin's excited voice came out of nowhere, Ladybug looked at the vigilante in surprise. "We found out Hawkmoth's identity so we can finish this once and-"

Ladybug put a single hand up, a small smile on her face, silencing Red Robin's rambling. "That's very considerate of you, all of you" Her gaze landed on each vigilante one at a time. "But I... have things sorted" She pulled out two brooches from behind her back to show the men before putting the miraculous in her yo-yo. "I appreciate all you've done, truly I do. But can I ask one for one more favor?"

"Of course, what is it?" Nightwing asked, clearly wanting the spotted heroine to be gleeful once more.

"Could you... help the other heroes to help the Parisians to heal?"

"It's the least we can do" Batman replied. "Will you be there too?"

"I'm afraid not" Ladybug turned around and leaned forward on the banister. "You know how Hawkmoth prays on negative emotions, so I've had to deal with my emotions in an unhealthy manor but now... Hawkmoth is no more. I can be free"

"Wh-"

"Thank you, truly" Ladybug jumped up on to railing, facing the group of vigilantes. Her sad smile faded as she stared at the floor.

They didn't even get a chance to process what was happening before it did. A bright light surrounded the young hero and they were forced to close their eyes. As the light died down, Red Hood saw a small bluenette. She looked so weak, so pretty, so... fragile. It hurt the vigilante's heart seeing someone like this being the sole protector of Paris with no one by her side.

"Hey little lady-"

"I'm sorry Tikki"

The girl looked at all the vigilantes slowly, mouthing a 'thank you' before letting herself lean backwards.

Gravity took the Parisian heroine and she fell.

A small creature holding something shiny stared in horror as its owner fell."MARINETTE!" The small creature's anguished scream seemed to bring the vigilantes back to reality.

~~~

"MARINETTE!"

Robin's head shot up, that name was all too familiar. Suddenly, he took note of a figure falling fast from above, her raven hair flowing in the wind. Without giving a second thought, he bounded down the ledge he was on, landing on one of the platforms and had his arms out ready to catch the fallen angel. The bluenette was close enough for Robin to grab her and he pulled her in so that her feet landed on the platform, her body still looming over the edge of the building. His brother and father landed not far from him, bounding over to help the bluenette but Robin took no notice of their presence.

"Why didn't you just let me f...all" The girl's voice trailed off as her eyes widened in recognition, the air in her lungs escaped from her lips. "...d-Damian?"

The two friends took no notice at how the vigilantes behind Robin stiffened. Her eyes developed a watery sheen as the situation began to really hit her. Tears threatened to spill as her lip quivered. Robin pulled her away from the ledge and she jumped into his arms, she was heavily touch-starved. Much to his family's surprise, he didn't push her away. In fact, he hugged her back. They heard what she said next.

"I... I thought you were dead, Dami"

"...why? What made you do this, Malaki?"

They didn't hear what she said next as her mumbling was muffled in Robin's chest. Nightwing walked up to the two first, kneeling down to be eye level with the girl.

"Hey Sunshine... we don't know what you've been through but we're willing to help you though it okay?" The girl looked at his sincere gaze, her eyes were so round with innocence, Nightwing thought he would melt.

"I... thank you, I'm sorry for worrying you when I... jumped" No one failed to notice when Robin ran his fingers through the bluenette's hair.

"Don't apologize Little Lady" Red Hood walked over to where Nightwing was kneeling, sitting next to his older brother. "Hawkbitch forced you to bottle up your emotions, you were just strong for too long."

Marinette looked between the two men, a grateful smile on her face while she wiped the tears of pure happiness running down her cheeks. "Thank you, I- this... this is the nicest I've been treated recently"

"If you don't mind me asking," Batman walked over and Marinette felt slightly intimidated you his presence as well as his tone. The dark knight must have noticed this since he cleared his throat and began talking in a softer manner. "What happened to cause you to go to such extremes? You're obligated to not having to talk about it right away if the subject makes you uncomfortable"

"Well I guess I do have to talk about it eventually..."

Recognising the bluenette's discomfort, Red Robin stepped in. In his palm was the shaken kwami who flew straight for Marinette once the vigilante got close enough. "Since you know Robin's identity, and we already sorta know yours, it's only fair if we tell you who we are, right?" He looked at his two older brothers and then at his adoptive father. "My name's Tim Drake nice to meet you"

Marinette was about to take his offered hand when the vigilante she presumed was Red Hood took it instead, "Jason Todd, Robin's most charming and handsome brother" She giggled at Damian's obvious annoyance.

"Well I'm Richard Grayson, Robin's favourite brother, but you can call me Dick" The vigilante in the suit who comforted her first, introduced himself.

"It's nice to meet all of you"

Batman soon came over as well to aquatint with the young heroine, offering out his hand for a handshake. "Bruce Wayne"

She returned the hand shake and brightly smiled, it blinded nearly all those near. "Thank you, Mr Wayne. Wait..." she turned to face Damian, one of her eyebrows raised. "Wayne?"

"I may have failed to mention that part" To Robin's surprise, Marinette started giggling so he huffed in taken offense.

"Sorry it's just- a girl in my class as been boasting about dating you and about the Wayne Family seeing her as their 'honorary member'. I knew she was lying I just didn't know that I would bump into the people she was lying about"

Bruce hummed. "We'll have to do something about this girl you're talking about. In the meantime, why don't you come back to the hotel with us? You and Damian can catch up" The older man saw the hesitation in her eyes but he also saw the willingness that shine through the most. "If you're living in a bad environment then you do have to escape" His sons nodded along.

"I'll come, can I bring some overnight clothes? It's been a long day..."

"Of course, you go get your belongings and you can meet us at the Grand Paris Hotel"

"I... thank you again" She transformed and headed in the direction of her house, leaving Robin at the mercy of his brothers.

"You like her, Brat" Red Robin spoke up first.

Nightwing pretended to wipe his tears. "Baby Bird's all grown up now"

"That means you can't adopt the little Pixie, don't think I haven't seen the adoption papers"

~~~

When Marinette destransformed on her balcony rooftop, she quickly went inside, packed some clothes as well as some essentials. When she was satisfied with her belongings, she gave a macaron to Tikki before heading downstairs where she was met with two disappointed looking parents.

"Is something wrong?"

"We've decided," Tom began. "We're kicking you out for what you've done to your lovely classmate, Lila"

"We don't recognise the person you've become, Marinette. You are not the daughter we raised" Sabine added

"May I pack my things in the morning?" Marinette inquired, her eyes void of emotion. When her parents nodded, she left the bakery and down to the hotel where Damian was waiting in the lobby. As she approached, he took her bag and intertwined their hands together. She blushed at the contact but leaned into his embrace.

When she entered the hotel room she was greeted by the vigilantes who were now changed and unmasked. The bluenette was welcomed with open arms, she felt the warmth in her heart for the first time since Lila's Tyranny. She briefly explained Lila's lies, what she had done to Marinette and how the bluenette was able to protect Paris. She would've carried on longer if it weren't for the hotel phone ringing. It was the receptionist, saying that someone had asked to see Marinette. Confused, she went down with Damian, Jason followed closely behind since he had grown quite attached to the little fairy. Waiting at the front desk as a woman, Damian and Jason recognised her instantly as Mayura. Damian tried to step in front of his friend but she completely ignored their futile attempts to keep her in reach.

"Ah, Hello Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng"

"Hello Nathalie, we're you the one who asked for me?"

"Yes, I just need to clarify a few things"

"Go ahead"

"You're request for the restraining order has been fulfilled" the bluenette nodded, waiting for Gabriel's assistant to continue. "May I ask what did he do to make you request for it?"

The two notices how Marinette stiffened. She contemplated before sighing. "Attempted sexual assault. If you look at the camera footage outside of the Louvre from two days ago, seven pm onwards, you'll see your evidence." Marinette turned away from Nathalie and walked back to Damian who, once in range, pulled her in for a hug.

"I'll never let him near you again, Angel"

~~~

The next day, Bruce had shown up with Marinette at her parents' bakery. Upon hearing about the young bluenette being kicked out, he had asked for her permission for him to be her Guardian until she was old enough to live in her own. Marinette accepted his offer. When they had entered the building, her parents had greeted their customers kindly before recognising Marinette. Bruce turned to the young girl next to him and smiled.

"You go pack your things I'll deal with this" She smiled and bounded upstairs, leaving Bruce to talk with the bakery's owners.

"Hello Sir, how may we help you?" Sabine began, wanting to know who this man was.

"I've come to gain guardianship of your daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng"

"Why should we give you guardianship?" Tom asked.

"I'm sure you know the liability for child neglect, Mr Dupain" With his words, both adults seemed to turn white. "I will file the necessary and submit it with the court, I'm sure you'll be willing to give your approval"

Both Marinette and the mystery man left, true they were glad that their mistake of a daughter had gone but they wondered who she had gone with.

~~~

Later that afternoon was a charity event which the Waynes were supposed to attend as they were invited by the mayor himself, the plus side was that the Akuma class would also be attending and they had no clue the Wayne Family would be there.

"...And finally I'd like to thank the Wayne Family for joining us this evening" Mayor Bourgeois finished his speech and all heads turned to the table the Waynes and Marinette were sitting on. As his speech was over, a teenage girl with glass and a very pale brunette came over to the table.

"Hello Mr Wayne, My name's Alya and I'm your honorary daughter's best friend and I was hoping-"

"Marinette" Bruce began, cutting off the aspiring reporter. The Alya girl only then seemed to notice that the bluenette was sitting at the table. "Is this girl you're friend?"

The bluenette took one hard look at Alya before shaking her head, "No"

"Marislut what th-"

"It would be appreciated if you did not talk about my honorary daughter and future daughter-in-law on that manner" Both Damian and Marinette turned red, one much more than the other. "In fact we should be leaving" Bruce and the rest of the family got up. "Miss Rossi, I will not tolerate your lies. You will receive a lawsuit for defamation and slander. Have a good evening" They left, leaving a reporter, a liar and a class speechless.

When they reached the hotel room they finished packing up, they would be leaving that night. Marinette made a few phone calls, telling her friends that she would be moving to Gotham. They had their belongs taken to the limo downstairs and had a few snacks before making their way down. In the lobby were many different people around the bluenette's age, she recognised them as her classmates and continued walking beside Damian until Alex came over.

"Marinette... we're sorry. We understand that you probably won't forgive apps but we wrote you letters anyway" the skater girl gave Marinette a pile of enveloped letters, ones she put in her bag straight away.

"Thank you for your apologies but I don't think I can forgive you just yet, goodbye Alix" the bluenette got in the limo and let out a breath she knew she was holding.

Her eyes glanced out the tinted window, she smiled knowing that she was leaving Paris for a better life. A better life with a friends, a better life with a new family. A better life with Damian.

~Bonus~

The harsh blizzard outside was definitely being felt from inside the manor, leaving a cold and tired Marinette on the couch. Damian, noticing his girlfriend's state, went to grab a blanket to cover both Marinette and himself. She snuggled into the green-eyed boy, taking all the warmth she could get, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. Damian too felt drowsy so soon followed his girlfriend into dreamland.

Jason came in a few moments later to find the sleeping couple, he was then reminded by how tired he was so he went on the couch and leaned his back against his youngest brother, himself too falling victim to slumber.

The next person to walk in was Dick, he had just finished training so he was exhausted. But he couldn't help to coo when he came across the scene in front of him. The eldest son then got on the sofa and carefully leaned against Marinette, similar to what Jason had done with Damian. It didn't take long for him to join them in dozing off.

Tim arrived with a big cup of freshly made coffee, one which he was about to drink until he noticed his siblings all curled up on the couch sleeping. The co-CEO went back to the kitchen, left his cup of coffee then went to grab a blanket to join his family. Wrapping himself in a blanket burrito, Tim placed himself on the floor pressed up against sofa.

When Bruce returned home safely, he went to the main living room to see his children, and his future in-law who was basically his own by now, sleeping soundly with the TV still running. Reaching for the remote, he turned the television off and grabbed his phone to take a picture. He planned on printing it out and having it framed in his study. Bruce sat on one of the armchairs, taking a book to read. If there was peace in the house, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

#daminette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damianette #mlb x dc #ml x dc #This is so bad I hate it and it started out good as well aaaaaaaa

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spilledkauffie · 4 years

Text

In Your Dreams

Repost from an old account I deleted!!!

Pairing: Charles Xavier x reader (mutant) AU: first class era Word Count: 2.0k T/W: a little flirty A/N: the reader’s power is controlling water!

A hazy start, first a bright light then… a calm. Shifting onto your back, you groaned a little while squinting your eyes at the illumination flooding your pupils. It didn’t take long for you to sit up, curious as to where you were instantly. You felt your hands almost sink, only ever so slightly though you were quick to retreat them. Observing the terrain beneath you, you picked up a handful and watched it slip through your fingers. Beautiful pure sand, falling from your palm. The sound of distant seagulls came next, until it was quiet. Quiet enough to hear your own breathing. Momentarily you felt alone. Picking yourself up, you stood slowly, still unsure of your surroundings. It wasn’t a familiar place and it didn’t seem dangerous, you drew obvious speculations. Making the decision to walk around, you found several sporadically placed seashells along the path your foot prints made in the moldable sand.

“Oh,” you gasped, happily stepping toward a gorgeously coloured shell.

Taking it gently in your hands, you rubbed your thumbs across the surface, revealing a chrome-like coat to the shell. Smiling, you rather enjoyed the peacefulness of, well, wherever you were. Continuing your collection, you lost track of time, never really sure what time it had been to begin with. A breeze came about, fluffing your hair and rosing your cheeks. Closing your eyes, you breathed deeply. Such a calm had long escaped your life. Always on the run, hiding, being scared of what would happen… all those thoughts faded, as if they never even existed. A graceful smile spread across your lips, simply standing happily with the sand between your toes and seashells in hand. The sun was warm, but not too hot. The trees that were rustling in the wind provided shade. And the ocean’s waves-

Stopping your cleansing inhale, you opened your eyes ploddingly, “oh...”

Another bright, soft light and you found yourself batting your eyelashes. Adjusting to a morning glow of sunlight. This time you knew exactly where you were. Glass windows, a dark wooden room, soft sheets and careful, tender circles being stroked against the temple of your forehead by loving fingertips. Shifting onto your opposite side, you opened your eyes, the loss of physical contact wasn’t ideal, but now you could see him. Sitting next to you in bed, book in hand and back against the headboard, his hand hovered over your temple. Gazing upward, you waited until his mind told him you were up before he glanced downward.

“Good morning,” Charles smiled, voice as tranquil as ever, while he took to stroking your hair, “sleep alright, Love?”

“You know,” you sighed, shifting, “I’ve never had a dream about water, despite being able to control it.”

Raising an eyebrow, you were telling him just how aware you were of him giving you a good dream the very night after you told him you often had nightmares. You heard a soft chuckle, watching him bite his lip and furrow his eyebrows next, as he looked you over. In cases like these you desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. Instead you met his insatiable blue eyes, adoring how they reminded you of crystal clear water, a calm you seldom saw within yourself.

“Wait, so, you’re-are you telling me that you’ve never dreamt of water, in any case at all?” Charles closed the book in his hand and turned to see you better.

“Never,” you admitted, observing how he smiled widely following your answer.

Though unsure why he was so happy, you smiled back. Leaning in, closer to you, Charles shook his head with amazement, slipping his hand down from your hair to rest against the side of your neck endearingly.

“Do you realise that your subconscious not acknowledging your conscious power directly could be able to explain where specific mutations lay in the chambers of the mind?”

He trailed off on some scientific explanation and you tried your best to listen, but when he talked so excitedly and intelligently, it was difficult to pay attention. There was something terribly attractive about it. The placement of his hand wasn’t helping either, you felt his finger tips move when he began explaining certain terms excitedly, sending a shiver throughout your skin.

“Insanely informational and so very fascinating. A very groovy mutation,” Charles said with a pause and a look that could stop your heart. He straightening up to lean back against the headboard, “I wonder.”

Removing his hands from you, he picked up another book from the pile he always kept on his side of the bed. Dropping your shoulders, you were hoping he’d pick up on your thoughts. He wasn’t the very best with romance, but you really weren’t asking for much, just a little flirting maybe a kiss, anything. Being so busy with the X-men training, you wanted some form of affection to take place. Knowing you might have to be the first to engage, you did. He’d catch on the instant he grasped the concept it just took a push when he was preoccupied.

“You know I love it when you talk like that,” you smiled, musing your voice.

“Talk like what?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the pages he flipped through.

“I think you know,” you tilted your head, lifting yourself up, allowing the sheets to gracefully cascade down your body, folding at your waist, exposing the beauty of your skin.

“I- what, when,” he stuttered, taking a few looks up from his book, attempting to subtly scan your frame.

“Though I’m sure you’re much too busy with work and the team,” you sighed playfully, hoping to draw his attention in, “I know you don’t have much time for, well, other things.”

Combing your hands through your hair, you worked out the tangles, carefully. Charles watched as your perfectly messied hair fell smoothly. It lead his eyes to your bare neck and shoulders, temptingly. The way your skin managed to slightly glisten from the morning sunlight dancing about the room was undeniably stunning.Your eyelashes fluffed with every seductive bat you gave them.

“Depends on what sort of things,” he placed the book aside, noting the smile that spread across your lips and the thought that ran through your mind.

Biting your lip and containing a giggle, you drug your hand up his thigh teasingly, while closing the distance between the two of you, “why don’t you read my mind?”

A polite smirk and chuckle was all you received before feeling his hand grace your skin, making you blush at the softness he always touched you with. Batting your eyelashes, you closed your eyes again, this time lips finally being met by his. It was gentle, yet deep and oh so adoring. It amazed you at truly how talented he was at making you swoon so easily. Rather enjoying the kiss, you leaned forward when he pulled back, in hopes of bringing him back into the kiss.

“Oh, Darling,” Charles whispered almost empathetically, lips moving against the corner of yours, “I’ve pictured that so many times.”

Your lips parted subconsciously, he truly was diving into your thoughts, even those thoughts. The stroke of his fingertips against your temple soon turned to him spreading his fingers through your hair. Breath hitching, you felt your heartbeat increase. His other hand ghosted down your rib cage, to your navel, settling at your hips.

“Except, how about this time you call me Professor?”

Biting your lip again and curling your toes a little you smiled, happy with the direction the situation was headed, “hmm, Ch-“

“Kinky,” a voice from the doorway chimed in, making you grab the sheets to hold tightly against your body, “and of all people I least expected you.”

“Well, we all have learning to do about each other,” Charles played it off calmly, sure to erase the memory from Erik’s mind at a later time, “you most of all should know kinky.”

Seeing a slight flinch in Erik, you smirked.

“And this is something I suggest you don’t get between,” you glared towards Erik.

“What’re you going to do?” Erik raised an eyebrow with a quiet scoff, “drain my bath water?”

“No,” you perked an annoyed eyebrow yourself, “but humans are sixty percent water...I’m sure I could think of something creative.”

Dipping his head Charles refrained from showing his amusement, not wanting to aggravate anyone: he opted to play the peacekeeper as per usual. Reaching to hold your hand, he looked over to Erik, who was now clearly unamused with the whole situation.

“We’ll be down in a few minutes, I promise,” he nodded, “kindly make sure everyone else is down, please, Erik?”

A reluctant, but accepting nod was returned before Erik left. Still staring the direction of the doorway, you were brought back to the prior mood by a hand rubbing up and down your arm. Tilting your head, you sighed, proceeding to straddle his lap. Charles set his hand on either side of your hips, looking up curious as to what you were playing at. Setting your arms atop his shoulders you got lost for a moment in his ocean eyes.

“Are we ever going to get a moment alone in this place?” You asked seriously, aware of the school he wanted to create from the mansion.

“Of course,” he chuckled in response, before noticing your demeanour.

You didn’t smile or laugh, you just looked away and dropped your shoulders. You knew he would ask, so you spoke.

“I just feel like we never have time,” you shrugged, “we can’t stay in bed, or go to dinner by ourselves, or...other things. Not without other people constantly being around us here.”

Bouncing you slightly, he drew back your attention with a smile and his hands studying the curve of your back. He loved how romantic you were trying to be, and that you were expressing emotions with him, no mind telepathy involved. But you were right, it was going to be very busy and very taxing soon with the team and future students. He always pictured you by his side through it all though. The chance of losing you always frightened him, even though he could see there wasn’t even a hint of doubt in your mind for your love.

He stayed silent, keen to listen to you continue, “I just- I just want a moment. One moment, just with you.”

“We’ll have several more,” he said sincerely, “I promise you that, Love.”

Filing through your thoughts subtly, he found images and ideas of the two of you in the future that you had thought up, even with the school he wanted. You were by his side and he by yours, always. There were several different versions where you wore a sparkling ring on your left hand in those ideas, which he much appreciated; a smile pulling at his lips when he saw those images, every time.

Seeing how your iris’ sparkled in the sunlight, as you looked toward the window made him fall more in love with you by the moment. It wasn’t something he was used to, but now he never wanted to lose it. You were the one person that let him in completely, you didn’t want to hide anything, as most people did. You wanted him to feel free to use his power just as much as he encouraged you to. His heart practically stopped the moment you turned back to him.

“I swear you are ethereal,” Charles whispered, brushing his fingertips against your cheek, watching your smile reappear.

“Stop using fancy words I don’t know to turn me on,” you raised an eyebrow, happy with the intimate proximity, “especially when you’ve just made a promise.”

A soft chuckle came before his explanation, “it’s an adjective, of which means delicate to the point of appearing not to be of this world, in other words: heavenly.”

Rolling your eyes, you hardly thought of yourself as heavenly, but you smile nonetheless just hearing him call you that, “maybe in my dreams you could make me.”

“I can make a lot happen in your dreams,” Charles winked with a charming expression, “and...I’ll make them come true. That’s a promise.”

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mattzerella-sticks · 3 years

Text

“is scamming gay rights?” - Dean & Jack, DeanCas, Bi!Dean (ao3)

Jack tries teaching Dean about his latest obsession, TikTok, except a breakdown in communication teaches Dean that, sometimes, acronyms can mean more than one thing.

Dean didn’t understand exactly what Jack rambled on about, but he passed the point of no return a few minutes back and couldn’t interrupt without revealing he had no clue what the younger boy prattled on and on about. As it was Jack currently kept pushing his phone in Dean’s face, gesturing at it and shaking it every ten seconds or so. Dean glanced between Jack and it; each time he did there was a new video on screen and by the time he shifted his focus back to his son the lecture had moved elsewhere along a road he had trouble following. By then, he let himself sink into the comfortable numbing cadence of Jack’s speech, sipping at his beer, surfacing only when he recognized a word before diving back under.

His ears perked in familiarity as Jack used an acronym Dean recently learned, and so he tuned back in. Jack drew the phone closer to his side of the kitchen table, tapping on it. “There was this big problem with mlms actually, and even though I filtered my home page to avoid profiles like that, they kept popping up,” he said, “Luckily TikTok went ahead and basically blacklisted and deleted all mlm content. Now, I rarely see any of those kinds of content.”

Dean’s features shuddered, mouth dropping slightly in fright. His ears echoed with the awful drumming of his heart, and a painful wheeze tickled his throat, demanding freedom. He released it on a sigh, slightly curling in on himself. “W-what?” he asked, “You… you didn’t like it?”

Jack shrugged, “I mean, it was kind of annoying, but I learned to ignore them. When I learned how harmful the content was, however, I was very glad to hear that TikTok went ahead and took some sort of action – Hey!”

On autopilot, Dean snatched the phone out of Jack’s hands. He slammed it, hard, on the table between them. Dean pointed a harsh finger towards Jack, snarling his next few words. “I don’t want to ever hear you talk like that again.”

“What?”

“Or!” he added, fist hammering Jack’s phone further into the wood, “use this, this damned app – if this is what it turns you into!” He huffed, hands retreating to steeple at his chin. “You think you’re raising a kid right… raising a kid to be accepting despite being so close to the Bible Belt… and one dumb app undoes all that hard work.”

Jack, frozen in his seat, stared at Dean with concern shining in his comically wide eyes. “What are you talking about, Dean?”

“Look,” Dean said instead, his finger extending once more to point at the younger boy. It was a less accusatory gesture, softened by the gentle tone Dean adopted. “I know I haven’t been the best role model with… with that kind of stuff. Hell of a lot better than my dad was, though… still not the best. But I’ve been getting better, especially after I…” His words bottlenecked on his tongue, and through great effort did Dean spit them out. “After I admitted my own attraction to… to men, especially one man in particular…” Dean’s head felt like it might erupt, magma-like blood swelling his brain to dangerous sizes. “Cas.”

“Yes, Dean,” Jack nodded, “I know that. I’m… I’m confused what any of that has to do with this?”

“What it has to do with…? Jack…” Dean pinched his brow, tense shoulders collapsing as the strain became too much, muscles snapping like bridge cables. “I might not be the most… the most out, or the most proud, okay? But I’m trying. Remember that bi flag pin I wore during that hunt one time? That was me… trying. And I’ll keep trying, because this isn’t something I’m ashamed of.” He reached for Jack, ensnaring his wrist to make sure his message was well received. “So you see, being gay isn’t – it’s not annoying. It shouldn’t be hidden, or… banned and it certainly isn’t harmful despite what some repressed shitheads might think.” Emboldened, Dean levelled a disappointing glare at Jack. His lower lip jutted out in fatherly disapproval. “And I’d rather be staked on some piece of rusty rebar than let a stupid app make you homophobic. No more… Ticking-tock. Period.”

While Jack might not appreciate Dean’s ultimatum now, he will later on in his life. Dean imagined a future where he and Jack, much older than they were in this moment, sat on a porch swing talking about how good a job Dean did raising him to be a decent human being, as Jack’s partner, whose features he couldn’t distinguish from such a distance in their front yard, played with their son, named for the man who set Jack on the right path, obviously. He was knocked out of this fantasy, unfortunately, by the lumbering footsteps of his oafish brother.

Sam entered the kitchen, Cas at his side with a tome held open in his hands. Their conversation withered as they took in the scene they walked in on. “Hey,” Sam said, shuffling his way to them, “what’s going on?”

Dean opened his mouth, about to explain that he was dishing some serious parental law and wisdom. Except Jack hurriedly interrupted, rushing to speak first. “I have no idea,” he told them, “I was explaining TikTok to Dean, and suddenly he starts ranting about how it’s a homophobic platform?”

“Because it is!” Dean argued. He grabbed Jack’s phone, waving it at the others. “Jack told me that they’ve gone full Russia – banning mlms and… and it was brainwashing him, making him hate gay people!”

“Dean! I don’t hate gay people –“

“Because I acted before any of the damage actually managed to take root,” he said, “If you used this any longer you would’ve had more harsh things to say about mlms than they’re annoying.”

Jack groaned, scrubbing his face with twitching fingers. “They are annoying!”

Dean gestured at Jack, asking with exaggerated brows and frown lines, what they should do about Jack’s denigration. Sam, for his part, seemed unbothered by Jack’s callous attitude. “I mean,” he shrugged, “Jack’s not wrong. Mlms are… pretty annoying.”

Betrayed, Dean staggered to his feet. He faltered visibly, enough that Cas rushed over, dropping the yellowed book he held, and offered a hand. Dean accepted it, leaning on his boyfriend’s shoulder. The touch on the small of his back renewed his strength. “Sam,” he muttered, voice cracking, “how could you say that?”

Sam mirrored the confusion noticeably present in Jack’s features. “Dean, why are you taking this so personally?”

“Because, apparently,” Dean shouted at him, “you find me annoying!”

“No more than I usually do,” Sam told Dean, “But that’s never bothered you before?”

“Well, it’s pretty hard staying fucking unbothered when you think my sexuality is annoying.”

“What?” Suddenly, something flashed behind Sam’s eyes, and the fog of bewilderment dissipated as pure rays of understanding shone from his smug expression and annoyingly struck Dean in the face. “Dean,” Sam sighed, “you… we’re not talking about gay people.”

Dean snorted, “Of course you are. I’m not stupid.” Sam’s bitchy expression disagreed. “I’m hip, Sam. I know the lingo – better than you would, anyway… ‘ally’. Mlm… men loving men… What else could it be?”

“Mlm is an acronym for multi-level marketing, Dean,” Sam explained, “that’s the kind of mlm we’ve been talking about this entire time.”

“What?” Dean’s gaze bounced around the room, from Sam to Jack, then Cas, finally returning to Sam. “No, but I… the Internet, mlm is… it stands for…”

“Things can have more than one meaning,” Cas supplied, appearing pained as he spoke, “especially acronyms.” He pressed a consolatory kiss upon Dean’s cheek, touch sparking a flame on his already burning skin. “It was nice to see how outspoken you’ve become, though.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “Like a modern-day Harvey Milk.”

Dean refused to comment on Sam’s teasing, sinking into his seat again while his mind processed this new information. Cas joined him, continually rubbing soothing circles into his back. Sam sat next to Jack, across from them. Jack, sullenly tracing the cracks Dean made in his phone screen, asked, “Does this mean I’m not banned from TikTok?”

“I just don’t get it,” Dean said, ignoring Jack’s question, “why would something that sounds boring like multi-level marketing even deserve its own acronym, let alone be banned from a whole app.”

“Because it’s bad, Dean,” Sam explained, “multi-level marketing is, like, an evolved pyramid scheme, made more prevalent because of how easily social media disseminates misinformation and reaches impressionable people. Companies like TikTok are doing what they can to try and curb all these kinds of scams because, well… they’re annoying.”

Adamant, Dean scowled and shook his head. “Mlm meaning that is what’s annoying.”

“Too bad, Dean,” Sam said, “that’s probably the universally accepted meaning for it.”

“No!” Dean said, “No, mlm is about gay people. It doesn’t have anything to do with scams.”

Cas scoffed at Dean’s side, mumbling, “But what if scamming people is gay rights?”

It was ridiculous, made in jest, and held no actual weight in a discussion, but Dean latched onto the throwaway line like it were the last life preserver on the Titanic. “You know what, Cas, you’re right!” he crowed, “Scamming is gay rights.”

“It is?”

“It should be,” Dean said, “I mean, do you know the number of times in my life I’ve scammed bigoted jerks for all they had? Scamming definitely feels like something that’s for gays only.”

Sam rubbed his temples, battling an incoming migraine. “I don’t know why, but that take feels homophobic.”

“Hush, Sam,” Cas told the other man, “I want to see where Dean goes with this.”

Jack nodded, camera eclipsing his features. “Just let me hit record first, Dean. This could go viral.”

Dean waited for the signal from Jack, a small thumbs up, and then he cleared his throat. “Okay, so here’s why scamming is a right for the gays and the gays alone…”

#supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #sam winchester #jack kline #mlm in both meanings of the acronym #spn crack

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Text

Deleted Scenes: A Character Study (Part 1)

Longer title -- “Deleted Scenes: if the Criminal Minds writers had any idea how to incorporate dramatic back story into a working narrative, A Character Study”

Every once in a while I get impassioned about something that happens in the show, or more importantly that doesn’t happen in the show -- but should have. This will probably be one of at least a handful, but for now, enjoy the pinnacle of my rage. Fueled by all the OPENINGS for Hotch to talk about his past and the writers taking advantage of NONE OF THEM, but this was my breaking point.

Rating: General

Warnings: mentions of past child abuse

Pairing: none

Characters: Hotch, JJ

Episode, and placement: Season 10, Episode 05, “Boxed In”; after the episode

Word count: 2,404

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796501/chapters/73302726

A Prime Example

Very few things get to Aaron Hotchner. Especially things that are said with no relatable context to him or the details people don’t know about his life. His past, in particular. He pushes them back in compartmentalized little boxes, carefully labeled and sorted and set aside to be unpacked at a later date. They aren’t important when he’s on a case. When a twelve-year-old boy is missing and his life hangs in the balance. When time is of the essence.

Which is why, on numerous occasions, he lets the things people say slide.

Especially on the topic of Nature versus Nurture.

He, himself, has written a handful of papers and reports on the very argument. There’s no doubt that Nature and Nurture have complicated roles in why ‘bad people do bad things’, in layman's terms. But the stigma surrounding it, cutting it into a black and white, all or nothing scenario will always rub him the wrong way. Not because he believes in it, one way or the other, but because he lives it. Day after day.

It’s not his team’s fault that they don’t know that. Hotch keeps those parts of his life to himself. Lessons only he has learned, and has grown from, and keeps as careful guidelines.

Until this case.

“I guess we all become our parents at some point.”

The way JJ had said this -- steady, with no hesitation, despite the choice in phrasing indicating it could be a right or wrong assumption -- gave the statement an air of inevitability. Creating a precedent in her mind that set Hotch's teeth on edge, though it had not been the appropriate moment to correct her on it. But it's not the first time JJ has said something along those lines.

“Does the son of a sociopath even really have a chance?”

Not a lot gets to Aaron Hotchner. Every other remark, observation, detail of an unsub’s correlation between their upbringing and their crimes he doesn’t let sting his exposition. It has never affected him before, and he vowed it never will. His father doesn’t get to take that away from him, too.

But the inevitability of her statement, indicating it was only a matter of time. No matter what he has done with his life or the person he has worked so hard to become and imbody, ultimately it wouldn’t matter in the end. That one day, Aaron Hotchner would be just like his father. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to live with himself, if that were to happen.

That single, throw-away sentence, with a pedestrian phrasing he has heard over and over again, gets to Hotch. It buries itself in him like a tick and refuses to let go, not for tweezers or fire or smothering indifference. It is still there, echoing in his head as if shouted down a long tunnel, even after they get back to Quantico and are finishing up the closing paperwork later that week. He finds himself barely able to glance at JJ for longer than a moment without hearing her words once more, and Hotch berates himself for it. Over and over again. This is why he shuts it all down and doesn’t talk about it. This is why he keeps it buried, where it will never resurface. It interferes with the present, with his work and his friendships and his relationship with his son.

His past needs to stay dead and buried in a plot in rural Virginia, where it belongs.

“I have those reports for you, Hotch,” JJ says, as if procured by his musings. He glances up for the briefest of moments, barely a blink, to acknowledge her and nod in thanks as she leaves the folders on his desk. Then he’s turning back to the SWAT team justification reports and expects that to be the last of it. Drowning himself in his work, where everything is strict codes and formal speech patterns and no emotional influence whatsoever.

Which is why he is surprised to hear JJ address him, again. Never having left his office.

“Sir?” The formal term catches his attention even more. “Is everything alright? Did something happen after you missed Halloween night?”

“What?” The question genuinely throws him off, though it doesn’t show on his face. He had missed Halloween, the first time he had ever done so, but Jack understood. He was always much more accepting of the parameters of Hotch’s job than Haley ever was. It was all he’s ever known. “Oh, no -- Jack had a fun night. Slept on the couch so I could see him in his costume when he got home. How was Henry’s night?”

“He and Will had a great time,” JJ answers, her careful, worried expression not waning in the face of Hotch’s slightly more upbeat tone. It’s something he slips into subconsciously when speaking about Jack, or to Jack, or anywhere Jack might hear. Compartmentalization. “I just… noticed you seem off.”

Hotch nods once, in acknowledgement, because he knows he has. He’s working on it. There was no need for an intervention like this. He’s the Team Leader and Unit Chief, he wasn’t the one people were supposed to be checking on.

“Delayed reaction to the case,” he answers, looking back to the SWAT team report and signing off on another section for mobilization after hours. Overtime justifications. Bureaucracy needs the ‘i’s dotted and ‘t’s crossed. “Nothing to worry about.”

JJ takes pause, and still doesn’t make for the door of his office. Like she needs to elaborate somehow, now that Hotch has left a small crack of an opening into his inner sanctum.

“I know we all have cases that hit us too close to home,” she concedes, the start of a much longer speech. “Young boys, even the troublemakers --”

“No, JJ, I appreciate the concern,” Hotch interrupts, and does his best to appease her by keeping the hardness off his face. “But it’s nothing to do with Jack or facts we found. It’s a personal matter.”

“Of course, it’s just --”

Years ago, that would have been that and JJ would have left his office. But time and history have blurred their relationship from boss and subordinate to friends and family. Personal matter no longer meant private, it meant a switch in barriers. It meant family.

She steps closer to his desk.

“You are always there for us, for these kinds of cases.” Her blue eyes bore into his, a technique Hotch recognizes as a fellow parent, to get through and make sure the person they are speaking to is really listening. “But, do you ever allow anyone to be there for you?”

He sighs through his nose. She’s not going to let this go, he can see that. No profiling needed.

“Sit.”

Closing the file, Hotch resigns himself to the fact that this was something inadvertently he’d been wanting to talk to JJ about, anyway. She had been a profiler for the team almost nearly as long as she’d been communications liaison, now, and although this could have waited for her performance review -- it tied into what was bothering him. The small smile of victory, and relief, slips from her lips as she sees the serious set to Hotch’s mouth. JJ is one hell of a profiler. The best ones did it without even knowing they were doing so.

“Wait… is this about me?” she looks mildly scandalized to even have to suggest it. Although really, it shouldn’t surprise her too much. Hotch knows he isn’t great about making things about himself, even when the conversation is supposed to be. So he gathers his thoughts, with such little prep time, and decides to start with where this whole debacle had begun.

In the car. When JJ had made her off-handed comment.

“The events of our lives shape us, and bring us here. As they do for everyone. It’s a technique that also helps us narrow down our profiles. How we were raised, what he have gone through. Heredity factors.”

JJ is staring hard at him, now. Deciphering the point, attempting to look ten steps ahead when Hotch has barely revealed three.

“You’re talking about Nature versus Nurture.”

“You could say that,” Hotch acquiesces. “In a lot of ways we are our parent’s lineage. Unless we choose not to be. I only became a prosecutor because my father was. But now, here I am.”

The parent’s lineage is a direct drop towards the conversation in the car. Both JJ and Hotch are intelligent adults, as is the entire team. Sometimes the most direct reference isn’t needed. Sometimes a key phrase is what links the mind back to the moment, replays it in the mind’s eye so it becomes fresh and there’s no confusion. Fewer words can connect more than a thousand, Hotch had learned that early on as well.

“I was… I was speaking more toward behavior,” JJ elaborates, still unaware where the conversation is going. How this has correlated to Hotch’s odd mood.

“I know you were. And my statement still stands,” Hotch answers plainly. “I’ve noticed that sometimes agents, myself included, let bias dictate their profiles. And we need to stray away from that kind of influence.”

JJ’s slight frown becomes defensive. Confused, but not angry. She’s learning quickly, Hotch notices.

“Nature and Nurture are a part of standard psychology practices. With a lot of information and testing to back it up. Spence could give you statistics for days, I’m sure. It’s proven.”

“Yes, as a theory. Not as a rule.” Hotch continues, giving her that steady, stern but gentle tone that borders on chastisement.

“I have yet to see an exception to that rule, when it comes to children of violent offenders,” JJ buckles down. “If they are the target of that violence, it warps them, Hotch. Plain and simple. How do they recover from something like that?” She’s shaking her head, getting caught up in the emotional aspect of it all over again. The hopelessness of its appearance.

“Any way they can.”

Now he has JJ’s attention, because she hears the shift as soon as it forms on his tongue. The air heavier, hazy like an old memory.

“Sometimes they leave home as soon as they graduate just to escape the situation, and spend their whole adult lives trying to eradicate it. By burying themselves in, say… Law School.” JJ’s stare goes vacant, and Hotch at least has the decency to look away from her as he continues. He has a point to make. “So they can put away people like their abuser. But when that’s not enough, prosecuting after the fact, they start to focus on ways to catch the offenders in the act. Save victims in the real world. Use what they know from experience, but in the field, so no one else slips through the cracks.”

“H-Hotch, I--”

“If there was a file on me as detailed as these on my desk, and there probably is somewhere in this building,” Hotch barrels on, not letting JJ get a word in edgewise. “Then the first seventeen years of my homelife would look nearly identical to John David Bidwell's childhood.” He didn’t need to go into further detail, though bullet points from the case all bust flash between them in neon.

Strict, domineering father figure. Church every Sunday, as a control and appearance factor. At home: a constant deluge of beratements, fear, shouting and fists. Something was always wrong, someone always deserved a punishment. No one was safe. They did what they could, followed the rules to a tee, but that wasn't always enough.

They survived, because that's all that they could do.

And he had.

“If you really require a physical, living exception to the rule, I’d like to hope we know each other well enough that you would consider myself that exception.” It’s the closest he’s ever come to admitting what happened in his father’s household, and Hotch knows that’s as far as he will let it go. No elaboration needed. “Even if I can be ‘a bit of a bully’.”

Stunned and shocked, the last part probably wasn’t needed. But, again, Hotch has a point he’s trying to get across -- and he wants it to make an impact.

“Hotch, I’m so sorry,” JJ croaks out, and he still can’t look right at her.

“Don’t be, you didn’t know,” he soothes her, swallowing a little hard. “No one on the team does, not even Dave.”

“--No one?”

“The only one who probably did was Gideon, but not because I told him. He was just that good of a profiler. You will be, too, one day -- I see that level of potential in you. Profilers are always learning, evolving, developing their skills.” Hotch finally turns his head, and catches sight of JJ with her eyes bright and her nose red. Her tell-tale physical signs that she’s been holding back tears. “Let this be one of those moments.”

She nods, wipes at her eyes discreetly, and collects herself with more strength than Hotch or anyone else ever gives her credit for.

“Was he ever convicted? Your father?”

“No,” Hotch says, level. “He died of colon cancer ten years ago. He never even met Jack. Neither did my mother, though I am sorry for that.”

Silence stretches in the wake of Hotch’s reveal, and JJ only breaks it when she can’t seem to keep it back any more.

“You’re… you’re not really a bully. You know.”

“Yes, I am,” Hotch tells her, the smallest traces of a smile smoothing the sharp edges of his face. “But only when I choose to be. When it matters.”

JJ huffs out a watery laugh, scoots to the edge of her seat as if to stand, but hesitates once more.

“You didn’t have to tell me. But thank you. I’m… I’m glad you felt that you could.”

The sentiment warms the inside of Hotch’s chest, ice cold from the memories he never dredged up if he could afford it. It helps ease them back under the floorboards of his mind, where they belong.

“Thank you for listening.”

She was right. He didn’t confide in anyone, and he doesn’t know if this will help him -- more than likely, not -- but it helped JJ. And that’s what mattered. His team. His family. Growing, learning, becoming all the better for it. The best people he had ever known.

The family he had chosen for himself.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Night, JJ.”

-end scene-

#I got irrationally angered and wrote a thing #criminal minds fanfiction #Aaron Hotchner #jennifer jareau #no ships #angst #cw: mentioned child abuse #katyswriting #idk what I'm doing but I'm doing it in style

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fenristheorem · 3 years

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Hello!

I was wondering if you could write headcanons for Lance during episode 26? Maybe the most significant moments in the chapter but from his perspective and how he felt

Hello there! This is such an interesting ask! I've always considered what Lance may have been thinking through episode 26, but I honestly never actually thought too deep on it. I hope at some point Beemoov gives us a long conversation between Guardienne and Lance in ANE that talks about his perspective in that episode...

Also, sorry this took so long to write. Tumblr ate this ask a few times and spit it back out (I guess it didn’t taste right lol) so I’ve been inconsistent on when I could work on it. Then I somehow ended up re-writing one specific part of this three times over so I had to figure out how to combine all of that information and edit it properly. And then Tumblr freaked out on me and deleted some recent edits - twice - but fortunately I remembered what I did so it didn’t take too long to re-write it. This may also be the longest headcanon I’ve written so far lol. The ask had one hell of a journey in it’s making but I think I love it even more because of that. 😂

~Below the cut~

Lance's POV in episode 26:

Oh how enthralling it was to have Guardienne on his ship! Not only was she his ticket to escape, and a prized asset - therefore collateral - for the guard, but she knew how to access the dragons. He would find his people by using her knowledge.

He knew she had spirit, but he considered sometimes that perhaps he should have thought a little harder on ways to get her to shut up and obey him. He certainly loved the thrill of banter and having her break her persona of peace for him, but by the Oracle was she irritating sometimes. Of course, he already knew she was also pretty amusing as well, with her wild thought processes and ideas. She could have been a bit friendlier with his kraken though...

He wasn't sure if he was surprised by how blunt Guardienne was at times. He had chosen the site in the forest because of its tactical advantage, but when she revealed her bad experience with that area, he could do nothing but apologize. She wasn’t trying to provoke him or stand in the way of his plans at the moment - it was a bad memory for her - so Lance understood her distress at staying there and didn’t wish to put her in further distress. There was no way that they were moving camp though.

Lance had her show him the island, and he was nearly surprised when she didn't try to escape. His attention was held by the ruins for most of the time; she could have tried to slip away thinking he was distracted. He was also quite surprised when she didn’t try to throw him off the cliff - it was the perfect opportunity, but she didn’t even seem like jumping at the chance.

Later on, when Guardienne talked with his mercenaries late at night, he tried to get a read on her. She seemed so unhappy stuck on the island with him, and yet she was so persistent on talking to his followers. She seemed to hate Lance, and yet she was so determined to understand why others decided to follow him. This sent his head spinning. Was she interested in joining him? Certainly not. Was she just curious? Most likely, but the typical person in her situation makes a point to not talk to those who hold them hostage...

He wakes her early in the morning, eager to find the gateway to his people, but his excitement drops when he realizes that Guardienne is in no mood to help him. She had been promising her resistance for many days, why did he expect any different?

This pissed him off of course; he was so close to finding his people and now he had to find a way to get her to comply. Threatening her didn't work too well, but she decided to lead him somewhere anyways. They go towards the library ruins and she leads him through a dark corridor that opens up into a room of alchemical concoctions, cages, and blood spattered walls before stopping. Lance knows immediately that she’s mislead him.

He turns on her, raw fury bleeding into him and coursing within his bones until he’s sure he’ll kill her. However, out of kindness and mercy, he gives her a second chance to show him to the dragons.

Lance didn’t know what he was expecting really, of course she would deny him again. So he takes her to the cliff to threaten her - and then those closest to her once he realizes she won’t crack. He really didn’t want to do this, he wanted things to go smoothly with little damage done, but more than that; he wanted to talk with his people.

She finally gives in and takes him towards the Door of the Dragons, but he nearly throws himself at her when they step into the library ruins again. However, she leads him a different way this time, and he can feel it in his bones that they’re heading the right way as they get closer.

Finally he witnesses the first monument of his people: the doors to their realm.

There’s a weight that settles on his chest and shoulders - after all these years wondering, searching, fighting to reach his people, he’s finally made it. Suddenly he’s aware of the blood surging through his veins, his breathing sharpens and the door is all he can look at.

He knows he's trembling as he reaches to brush his fingertips across the etchings in the stone doors, and he knows that she sees that as well, but he doesn't pay mind to it. In that moment, all that mattered is that he's finally among his people - the ghosts of them at least.

He snaps himself out of the awe the grand doors put him in, turning to Guardienne and requesting her to show him how the doors open. She does as told - finally - but the doors don't open...

Oh like hell he was going to deal with her shit now that's he's this close to knowing his people. She wasn't an issue before, but now she's standing directly between him and his people.

He turns on her again, his blood burning hot and arctic cold at the same time, but she's already explaining that they repeated the ritual the same way as last time. But perhaps... the moon could be an issue?

He's impatient again - there's no way they can stay on that island until the next full moon. Fortunately he brought a few toys to help...

Some time later, after many different attempts to open the door forcefully - all failed and leaving not even a scratch on the ancient stone - Guardienne comes bolting into the room screeching like a psychopath. As if it weren't bad enough that the doors aren't opening, now he has her to deal with again...

He's irritated but holds himself well - there's still the battering ram that may work.

Of course, Guardienne cuts in again, spitting wrath at him about his people and how much of an idiot he is. He humors her a bit, playing the hurt card (even though some bit of it holds true in some ways), and finding his own amusement when she thinks she actually hurt his feelings. Goodness she can be so adorable to fuck with.

The Draflayels come when night falls, drifting in the air with musical trills. Guardienne has found herself entranced at the beauty, but Lance seeths. How dare these creatures mimic his people? How dare they act as a replacement for the dragons?

She stops him as he goes to cut them down, saying that they'll show them something important. If he weren't so desperate to speak with his people...

He lets her lead him to the cliff, following the vile creatures as Lance glares at them, and they gather in sparkling clusters around them, singing their songs the whole time. Lance tenses his whole body and trembles - what he wouldn't do to get rid of these creatures - but then Guardienne steps into the cloud of Draflayels and begins... dancing?

He relaxes faintly, suddenly taken by surprise and slipping into hesitant curiosity as she twirls with the companions. She was so... happy, and carefree. How could she be this joyful with these useless creatures? Didn't she understand that they exist only from the sacrificial genocide of a grand race?

But she still dances with them, entranced by their harmony and twirls, and he's entranced by her as he watches her, careless and free, reminding him of the days where he was like that.

Wasn't it tiring? To be so cold and hateful for so long?

Didn't he miss the days where he ran free and proud, fighting valiantly alongside his brother?

Pain sparks in his chest as he watches her, his face betraying no emotions but the clawing agony welled in his chest and left him breathless all the same. He did miss it...

The Draflayels disperse and Guardienne backs away - straight into him. She's startled for a moment as she looks into his eyes, but he makes it clear that he's no threat.

As he stares at her, a different emotion stirs within him - a wistful wishing, whispered admiration, ghosts of jealousy and bittersweet knowing. She was so beautiful and happy, and he wanted to have that again as well, but he never could - not with everything he knows now.

Brilliant blue essence swam through the air, and Lance quickly turned his attention to it. A ghost appeared - one of his people - and spoke in a grand, cavernous voice to him. Guardienne - and all he once wished for - forgotten, he stepped forward to pursue his chosen path.

He had to argue to be allowed in sooner, but Lance regretted nothing when he was finally standing in front of the Door to the Dragons again, this time being welcomed in as family. However, he hesitated as he stared into the grand doorway; what information would he find hidden within this realm?

He allowed himself to spare a moment to think about his family... he would avenge them, with every bit of brittle, exhausted energy he had, he would avenge them. His heart twisted as he fell among them. These dragons were family...

Fafnir shows him around, and he keeps an eye on Guardienne the whole time - she could attempt to run away. But he wants her to like the dragons and their realm as well, so he keeps an eye on her for her well-being also. She did help him after all...

He argues with Fafnir much of the time, not understanding why the dragon is so steady and accepting about the destruction of their race. Fafnir is calm the whole time, a stable boulder underneath the rush of icy water that was Lance's opinions and emotions. He seemed so sure that Lance would change his mind about his quest for revenge, and even as Lance argues that, Fafnir still continues to show them around.

Fafnir mentions his mother not too long after, noting the similarities between them, and Lance is taken off guard. What would his mother think of him? What did Fafnir want him to know about his mother? Was it true that they were so similar? Would he be able to meet her ghost?

They continue their tour, and Lance knows immediately when Guardienne becomes uncomfortable as they step into the lava realm. Every change in her body language tells that she feels like she's drowning in heat, so he provides a layer of cooled air for her. Whether or not she wanted to, she provided him with invaluable help and remains invaluable as long as the guard is after him, so he might as well try to make her comfortable with him...

As she recovers and looks around, pride blooms in Lance’s chest. This may be the lava realm, but she had a right to stare in admiration at one of the realms of his people. The glitter in her eyes and awe on her face were enough to tell him that she thinks the world of the strange realm, and curiosity suddenly sparks in Lance. She hasn’t seen firsthand the power of the dragons; him and his brother are the only ones she’s been around enough to witness anything, and his brother doesn’t know how to evoke his abilities... What would she think about Lance’s abilities? Would she stare at him with the same look of awe and curiosity?

Lance dismisses his thoughts and probes Fafnir for information on his parents again - first discovering his father's element - but the ancient ghost hesitates when he begins to speak of Tia. Silence fills the air for only a moment before Lance yells at Fafnir to answer his rest of his question.

An ice dragon...

Fafnir compares him to his mother again, and once again Lance is taken off guard. Was he really that similar to his mother?

Lance begins to dig further into the reasoning for their sacrifice, and this only leads down a long path of arguing between him and Fafnir until the ghost finally snaps. They're brought to another location within their realm and Fafnir begins to question Lance's decision of partnering with the demon. Lance is nearly surprised when Fafnir doesn't ask who it is, but the solid weight of... shame? lands on his chest and shoulders as Fafnir seems to scold him for creating a pact with the demon.

So Fafnir knew about that then...

This shame was short-lived, though, before Lance quickly jumped to defend himself and explain the wrongs done to their kind and the foolish decision they made.

Fafnir eventually snapped and Lance quieted, feeling overwhelming irritation at the ancient dragon’s persistence. There was a rift forming that Lance could feel - an expanse hollowing out between him and Fafnir as he withdrew from Fafnir’s knowledge.

Lance watched as Fafnir created a sphere, faint images flickering within, and he was told to walk into the sphere if he wanted to understand the dragons’ decision. He hesitated, suddenly unsure if he wanted to understand in the first place. What if all of this was for nothing? Why would his people - upheld with such esteem within himself and around Eldarya - purposefully make such a foolish decision if it wasn’t forced?

Guardienne snaps him out of his thoughts and overwhelming anxiety, encouraging him to step into the sphere to find the answers to his questions. He hesitates further, but follows her as she steps into the sphere. Lance knew she was right; he came here to find answers, and Fafnir was giving him answers.

Lance isn’t very interested in where the sphere takes them to - it’s the dark-skinned woman who appears that catches his interest. She was talking to a man, pale skin and hair, and Lance quickly caught on to what he was seeing.

His mother and father...

Shocks freezes him and quivers through his body as his throat constricts. He calls out to them. Was he finally meeting his parents? Would they recognize him? Would he be welcomed home by them?

Fafnir quickly explains that they’re only a memory - that they can’t hear him - and Lance’s emotions collapse in on himself. He wouldn’t be welcomed, they probably wouldn’t know who he is, he was left without a family because of the sacrifice and it will remain like that. Pain and rejection hits him in a crushing wave; he finally met his parents, but they’re not even aware of him.

Regardless, he follows them as they fly off, desperately seeking just another second with them - just another facet of information that he could learn from them.

At the cliff, witnessing his mother’s own temper, Fafnir once again compares him to his mother. Lance retaliates again, not wishing for Fafnir to speak so fondly of him or his mother. He could barely stand the idea of not knowing her, but knowing how similar they are and yet not knowing anything about her bothered him in ways that left a yawning hole in his chest.

He starts to think things over - his people willingly sacrificed themselves, but certainly his mother must have known better! She must have been forced by her people! Fafnir agrees that she didn’t agree to the decision, but claims that she still did so of her own free will. In a thunderous state of denial and anger, Lance turns and storms off. He can’t believe that his own mother just abandoned him to sacrifice herself for a decision she didn’t agree with. It doesn’t make any sense!

Fafnir chases him down and, despite his anger, Lance agrees to keep exploring his mother’s past.

They follow Tia to the doorways within the Dragon Realm, where she talks with Fafnir. As much as Lance wishes to ignore it, he notices that her aggressiveness does mirror his own.

His thoughts wander about his mother for a bit while Guardienne and Fafnir talk, until Lance finally has enough with waiting and interrupts to continue on.

Fafnir takes them to the Council Room now, where they see discussion of the Blue Sacrifice taking place. Many arguments take place until Fafnir finally tells him that Tia kept looking for another solution - to no avail.

He’s silent now as Guardienne and Fafnir talk again. Everything tells him that this was the only solution, that the dragons had to do this, that there was no better way, but he couldn’t accept it. If that was true then everything he did was for nothing... If that was true then there was no need to avenge their deaths because it was their own choice...

A cavern of something similar to dread forms within his chest as he wonders if he set out to wage a pointless war, almost afraid of knowing if this was truth. He couldn’t be in the wrong, right? They were his people, certainly they could have thought of something else... right?

Fafnir calls out to make sure he’s ok before suggesting a break, and Lance finds himself nearly running from the memories - almost regretting learning everything he knows and hoping to leave it all behind alongside the confused assortment of emotions that nearly breaks his sanity. It was so much easier when he thought they didn’t have a choice...

He flees to the old camp area and Guardienne follows before calling out to him, asking if he’s alright. He’s heavily shocked when she explains that she does care about him, despite the assumption that he hates her.

After everything he’s done, why would she care? Does she think this will stop him?

She avoids his conflicted gaze before he turns and walks away. He needed time to think everything over; the sacrifices, his parents, even Guardienne’s sudden change in demeanor towards him. Nothing makes sense to him anymore.

Lance realizes that she's not following him. He turns and asks if she’s coming or not. One would think if she’s so worried about him, she would actually bother to follow him.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, not knowing where he wishes to go, but eventually finds himself at the cliff when Guardienne asks if he’d like to talk. Lance turns on her; he’s not in the mood for her to play false nice with him. He knows she hates him.

Guardienne contradicts that, though, claiming instead that she hates his actions but has faith that he can be good again.

Was she right? Was there some possibility of redemption? Did he even want redemption? What about everything he’s done to get to this point? Was any of it even worth it anymore?

Confused questions flood his mind in tidal waves until he nearly has a headache. Hesitantly, he begins to open up to Guardienne. If there was some chance that she could understand. If there was some chance she could help him understand...

He seeks her opinion on why his mother left him and Valk to the world instead of sacrificing them, and Guardienne explains that it’s normal that a mother would want her children to reap the benefits of her actions. Lance says he would have rather died.

Guardienne pauses at this, surprise flitting over her features and she goes to comfort him, asking why this is all so important for him.

Why is it all so important? He’s so confused, unfamiliar with these doubtful emotions now sweeping through him. Why was any of this important? What does he do now? Is everything he learned really true? Would his people actually be ashamed of him knowing he’s hurt others in their name?

She offers an ear to listen to his troubles, and as much as he doesn’t wish to confide in her, he does so anyways. He doesn’t know what else to do.

Guardienne is quiet as he explains their birth and the village, and he relaxes and allows himself to soften - just a bit. It was... nice to finally have someone to talk to. It’s been so long since someone actually sought to truly understand him...

This calm is broken when he speaks of the kind people who raised them - and Guardienne speaks up to explain that every world will have good people and bad. Lance turns on her in anger; what would she know about good and bad? She hasn’t needed to hide her nature because of others! She hasn’t needed to learn about the sacrifice of her people for the sake of these people! She hasn’t needed to suffer her whole life the way he has!

He explodes in anger, forcing himself to take a moment to cool off as Guardienne watches with a conflicted expression, and then turns back to her to reveal the horror of the Guard and faeries hunting down the dragons who survived the sacrifice.

He’s nearly happy when she reels back in disgust, refusing to believe that the faeries could have done something that terrible, but it was true all the same, no matter how hard she refused to believe it.

Lance turns away again - he needs to know more. He needs to know why him and his brother were abandoned to this world alone.

He manages to track down Fafnir and demands to know why, but the only response he receives is to follow and see for himself. They go back and forth, Fafnir pressuring him to witness the memories again while Lance argues it. He can’t see it again, he couldn’t bear seeing the past through memories...

Guardienne startles him when she lays a hand on his forearm.

Why was she doing that? Why did she care this much? What’s the reason for any of this?

She tells him that he needs to keep exploring his mother’s past if he wants to understand and find his answers, and while he doesn’t want to do that anymore - he can’t possibly do that again - he knows she’s right. It’s the only thing he can do right now in the mess of emotions he’s feeling. Guardienne promises that she’ll stay by his side the whole time, but that doesn’t help as she was probably hoping it would. Why is it comforting that she’s promising to stay by his side - he should be irritated at that thought!

Lance agrees, feeling more lost than ever, and ghosts back to the past memories alongside Fafnir and Guardienne with no further argument.

The Blue Sacrifice was being held soon, countless dragons sprawling across the land and swooping through the sky as Tia talked with Fafnir... about a pregnancy test. She doesn’t want to sacrifice her children with her. Then she speaks of her sons - that she had seen them.

She’s seen him and his brother before, can name their hair and eye color, and she thought they were... beautiful.

Lance watches intently as the memory plays out but he still has questions. She could have stayed with them if she had the choice, why didn’t she stay with them?

Fafnir further explains what happens after that - his mother and father leaving for a while and then returning to carry through with the sacrifice - but Lance’s thoughts are still scattered, and he demands that he sees his parents’ final moments. He needed to see everything in order to believe this...

They return to the pathway where the sacrifice will take place. Many different races are gathered, paying their respects to the dragons, and Fafnir points their attention to another group talking to his mother. Humans.

Lance is subtly shocked; why were they there? And why are they so close with his mother?

Fafnir says that they’re family; his uncle had fallen in love with a human, and Tia was hugging his cousin.

He has humans in his close family!? And they had children... Him and his brother weren’t the only dragons then! But Fafnir explains that they’re weakened due to the dilution of the genetics.

Lance doesn’t know how he feels about this. Was he nearly happy that he had surviving family - even if they were human? Were they really considered human in that case, or dragon? Should he be happy that those humans can’t compare their power to his because of their weakened genetics?

Lance is confused about himself again, shifting into anger at the realization that he’s thinking this only because of what happened; his closest living family is humans, and they’re only alive because they couldn’t have been hunted down by the Eldaryans. Fafnir tries to compare this to Guardienne and speaks of her angel genetics.

An angel?

Lance is truly surprised at this; she’s an angel? He has an angel in his clutches?

Fafnir seems shocked that Lance didn’t know, but the ice dragon is busy turning to Guardienne, many of his other questions now being answered. A wave of painful anger hits him, and he feels... jealous? That demon got to spend every day around this female angel - of course he’d be interested in her; they could attempt a revival of their race!

He had said to much. Lance collapses, pain wracking his body as he heaves for breath and clutches at his chest. The pact they made knew he had said too much. His vision fades into black and the last thing he hears is Fafnir telling Guardienne to help him bring Lance back to the real world...

Lance wakes... alone. Why was he alone? Where was the angel!?

He bolts up, cold burning anger flooding through his veins. After all he said to her! After he explained his past and reasoning for this war! After she promised she would stay by his side! She goes and tries to run away!

He quickly finds her urgently walking around - probably looking for some way off this island - and he approaches her in blind anger as she shrinks in front of him. He was glad, pleased, that she was terrified. She should be scared!

Lance can’t keep himself from yelling as he advances on her and draws his sword. He’s been so nice to her up until now, but that time is now long since passed. She cringes as he raises his sword... and stabs it into the ground next to her. Why did he find himself unable to do this?

Guardienne quickly begins to explain her reason for leaving, but he cuts her off. It doesn’t matter why she left - there was no way he could trust her on any account anymore. Of course she would try to escape, she’s still a hostage. He feels foolish for ever having believed she could possibly care for him.

He grabs her wrist and heads back to find Fafnir, thanking him for sharing his energy to strengthen him again. The ancient ghost asks if he understands everything now, and Lance admits that he doesn’t, but he does realize something important now - family needs to defend and stay with family, so he needs Valk with him.

Before anything else can happen the energy of the islands shifts - he can feel it and he knows Fafnir feels it too.

They have visitors, and it’s the guard.

Time is up, Lance realizes, and he quickly takes hold of Guardienne and drags her with him to the beach shores to find a horrific sight awaiting.

There are many boats sailing towards the island - too many for the kraken to take on. Lance realizes that he needs defense lines and orders Orion and his mercenaries to hold the guard back. He needs to find a good place for them to be found at if the guard gets past his lines.

Hints of panic start to crack his steady thoughts - they’re surrounded with no direct way off this island, and how the hell does he get his brother on his side!?

The angel; the thing they came here for! She’s his bargaining chip!

But she’s intent on not making this easy. She spits bitter truths at him that he doesn’t want to hear but knows it true all the same, and he turns on her to shut her up.

He paces around the island with her as the sounds of the battle rage on at the shore and she kicks at him, unbalancing him and tearing herself away as he regains his balance with pain shooting up his leg. Lance doesn’t let her go very far, though. He evokes his powers, pulling her back to him and snapping at her as he drags her around again, heading towards to cliff.

The roar of the waves is drowned out as Lance scans the cliff with screeching thoughts, finding no coverage and then choosing to place himself with her at the edge of the cliff. There’s nowhere else to hide, nowhere he can set traps for the guard, nowhere he can keep her while he attempts to fight off the guard - or even better; bargain with them for Valkyon. He can only stand here and brace himself.

Finally they arrive, and Lance calls to them to stop when they’re a comfortable distance away, holding Guardienne to the cliff for leverage. They stop, but his brother tries to convince him to let her go. Guardienne calls back, but Lance is tried of hearing her input and quickly shuts her up. This was between him and the guard, and if she convinces them to not worry about her, he’ll lose his bargaining chip.

As soon as everything is silent Lance begins to speak, calling out for his brother to join him - but he resists of course, and offers the opposite instead. Lance explains that the guard will kill him in no time, and his brother quickly gives in after that; choosing to join Lance as long as Guardienne is let go.

Just as he had hoped for.

He’s not even bothered as Guardienne cries out anymore, and lets go of her as soon as Valk asks - but he’s sure to keep her trapped on that ledge with a wall of energy. He knew if he just let her go they would attack him, so he assured his safety by keeping her at risk.

They say their tragic goodbyes and Lance rests a hand on his brother’s shoulder as they walk away, elated at the fact that he has his brother with him now. Things are exactly as they should have been since the beginning of this war.

He can hear Guardienne arguing with the others as they walk away, and when they’re a safe distance he drops the wall... letting it take the cliff she was standing on with it as it crumbled away to submerge into the surging tides below. She was no longer needed and it would be better if she were gone now, or at very least it’ll delay the guard from following him and his brother as they make their escape.

Lance learned many lessons from that journey - many things that were useful, and some that were... complicated, and he intended to use all of this to his advantage.

I hope you like this! I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again; this ask went through hell and back from Tumblr in it’s creation process, but I love it even more because of the quirks I encountered.

Thank you for asking!

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

#eldarya #eldarya lance #eldarya origins #eldarya lance origins #eldarya lance headcanons #eldarya episode 26 #fenristheorem writing #askfenris

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porthecrawl-witness · 3 years

Text

Deleted Scene

Hello, everyone! I’ve been doing some more edits today, which ended up in me deleting a scene or two. I thought you might like a glimpse! Many things have been redacted, so it’s basically been rendered completely nonsensical, but ehh...it’s been cut from the final version, but this way you get to see it before it disappears into obscurity.

If you’d like to completely and utterly avoid any hint of spoilers, I’d suggest not reading this, but I believe it’s vague enough. This is a scene from chap 11, exclusive to a particular route if certain choices were made.

(this picks up after MC’s phone rings)

It's Staci.

*if (staci_flirt >= 5)

"Hey there, ${firstname}." The way ${staci_she} says your name reminds you of warm mornings, and your eyes roll spitefully toward the overhanging clouds. "REDACTED (reason). I was hoping to catch you."

*goto behavior_route2

*else

"Hey there, ${firstname}." There's a note of exhaustion in ${staci_her} voice that sounds as if every effort is being made to disguise it. "REDACTED. I was hoping to catch you."

*goto behavior_route2

*label behavior_route2

"I've got to leave," you reply, "Or soon, anyway. They’re waiting on me."

"I'm not far away. I, well, I found something of yours at the house. In kind of a strange place to tell the truth. I - we thought we ought to come drop it off."

A second voice, garbled beneath Staci's, says something you can't quite make out.

"That'd be Amsler," explains Staci before you can ask. "Be there in a tick."

The call ends just in time for you to spot the gleam of a dark fender cresting the knoll about a mile up the road.

*choice

#Good. Company will keep your mind busy.

*set Contemplative -1

You're not going to linger on the night ahead. You're not going to linger on much of anything, come to think of it. The less time you spend alone with your thoughts these days, the better. You watch as the approaching vehicle turns up the drive.

#Why can't people leave you alone? You have your own problems.

*set Empathy -1

*set Warm -1

It's a good thing nobody hears the way you shove your phone back into your pocket. With a frown, you watch as the vehicle turns up the drive.

#You can't quite ignore the creeping feeling of unease.

*set Contemplative +1

You don't recall REDACTED. At least nothing important enough that you've missed it the last few days.

So, why then, does this feel so…peculiar? You frown and watch as the vehicle turns up the drive.

#A part of you is curious, you admit.

REDACTED. What might you have forgotten that they're bringing by now? Unless this is just a poorly disguised ploy to check-in on you.

You watch as the vehicle turns up the drive and suspect that your theory might very well be correct.

As it nears, you recognize it as Talbot's all too conspicuous G-Wagen, but before long, you are able to make out a head of thick red hair behind the wheel, as well as a slimmer, darker form in the passenger seat. Pushing yourself up from cool wood of the porch steps, you crane your neck for a better look, but as far as you can tell, the two are alone. The 4x4 swings onto the grass beside your car, its taillights going dim, and a second later, both Staci and Quinn step out.

Folding your arms over your chest to ward off the cold a while longer, you wait until they are standing at the bottom steps. "This is a surprise."

But before either can speak, your eyes fall to Staci's hand and the object held within it. With just a cursory glance, you're tempted to dismiss it, but as you look closer, you find yourself on the receiving end of an unpleasant bolt of recognition.

"Where did you get that?" you ask, stepping down to meet them.

*if (style_casual)

As if on reflex, Staci raises ${staci_her} hand, fingers opening slightly to reveal the cuffed gray beanie. It's neutral, practical, and wouldn't stand out in a casual outfit — you know, because it's yours.

*goto behavior_route3

*if (style_dark)

As if on reflex, Staci raises ${staci_her} hand, fingers opening slightly to reveal the dark, shaggy fabric of a well-loved scarf. Easily layered, it would keep the cold out from any outfit — you know, because it's yours.

*goto behavior_route3

*if (style_classic)

As if on reflex, Staci raises ${staci_her} hand, fingers opening slightly to unfold the bulk of a beige peacoat. It's neutral, stylish, and more expensive than an ordinary columnist could perhaps justify — you know, because it's yours.

*goto behavior_route3

*if (style_cool)

As if on reflex, Staci raises ${staci_her} hand, fingers opening slightly to unfold the bulk of a black and white jersey bomber. It's new, only barely worn, and too urban a style to be seen often in these parts — you know, because it's yours.

*goto behavior_route3

*if (style_eccentric)

As if on reflex, Staci raises ${staci_her} hand, fingers opening slightly to reveal a multicolored, hand-knit hat. It's a ridiculous hat by most standards, more sentimental and eclectic than anything — you know, because it's yours.

*goto behavior_route3

*label behavior_route3

REDACTED. The pair share a look.

Quinn is the first to speak. "It's yours, if I'm not mistaken?"

With a contrarian snort, Staci steps forward to hand off the garment to you. You take it, fingers smoothing over the fabric as you try to recall the last time you had seen this particular item.

Staci says, "I keep telling ${quinn_him} you weren't wearin' this that night."

[i]Did I wear this?[/i] The more you think back, the less certain you are. In fact, you're almost positive this particular piece of clothing was one you habitually kept in the backseat of your car for one of those 'just in case' scenarios Aunt Elle so frequently warned you about.

"I…I don't know," you say. "Where did you find it?"

"The cellar," replies Quinn. At this the doctor's lip curls in distaste and ${quinn_he} directs another frown in Staci's direction. Even Staci looks consternated now that the location of the discovery has been disclosed. $!{staci_she} blows out a breath that mists in the cold air.

*if (REDACTED)

That bit of information sends an almost preternatural cold dancing down your spine. It's not that you REDACTED.

*goto behavior_route4

*else

* goto behavior_route4

*label behavior_route4

MANY REDACTED THINGS

*label behavior_route5

*choice (REDACTED)

"This behavior is becoming tiresome." Coming from Quinn, the word ‘behavior’ is so said so pointedly it may as well be an expletive and you feel yourself begin to chafe beneath the implication. Staci, however, appears to swallow a grimace. In the momentary lull, you are able to see just how exhausted the ${staci_woman} really looks. $!{staci_her} eyes shine starkly out from bruised sockets, looking all the paler. The normally sunny complexion has taken on an ashen cast so severe, it hardly seems due entirely to the dull skies overhead.

REDACTED

$!{staci_she} must notice your appraisal, because ${staci_she} makes a point to look away when ${staci_she} at last speaks. "We didn't come here to argue about this on your front porch. You got things to do, we know that. REDACTED?"

‘Things to do.’ It’s a polite way of suggesting that you have secrets to keep.

*page_break

Regardless, it isn't the most elegant handling of a topic change that you've witnessed, but given that the pair seemed seconds from breaking into what would have undoubtedly been another of their volatile arguments, you can't say that you aren't grateful. Still, you find yourself sighing.

"There’s not much I can say, but..."

End scene

Thanks as always!

I’ll be back around in the next day or two to answer a few asks and messages.

Best to you all!

#spoilers #deleted scene #staci #quinn

47 notes · View notes

kidney9-9 · 4 years

Text

Love Letters (Peter Parker)

Anonymous asked:

Peter writing letters to a reader who he met in Berlin, and then having her surprise him in Queens at college and they have their first time after a party

Hi anon! hope you enjoy! :) reader and peter are aged over 18! Please do not read if the warnings make you uncomfortable! This is the longest oneshot I’ve written! Thank you for sending this in!

Masterlist

Peter Parker x Reader (Smut with Plot) (Friends-to-Lovers) Warnings: swearing, smut, virgin!Peter and virgin!Reader, oral (both receiving), thigh riding, slight dirty talk, praising, unprotective sex (please do not read if any of these made you uncomfortable!) Word Count: 7.6k

Peter grinned as he wrote down his thoughts on about everything, he’s been wanting to talk to you since the day started. You were his pen pal, living all the way in Berlin. When he met you there on a mission once, you two hit it off extremely well that Peter didn’t even want to go home the following day. Since the two of you got along great, you passed him your information, saying you preferred sending letters, because they were more personalized and authentic. Peter happily agreed, finding it fun to have his first pen pal in his life, but he soon realized how much he started to care about you, when you two revealed more about everything.

When you told him your favorite scientific theory, and a vague version of your own, he felt himself blush at how amazing you were. He felt like one of the luckiest people on the planet, but at the same time he felt unlucky. He wanted to go see you all the time, wanted to spend more time with you in person, just get to know you more face-to-face. He wrote out all his wishes, about how he wants to see you, all the time. He’d go on in lengths that most people would find surprising, but you didn’t. You returned his excitement about meeting about again all the time. You told him about how you once school started to ease up, you would go visit him, but he blanked on when that would ever happen. You took so many classes that even Tony would get stressed out about.

People often saw Peter writing these letters as well. His roommate said it was weird, and that it was probably some random person writing him back, instead of you. But that wasn’t true, since Peter has already met you. He felt so close to you, even though he’s only seen you in person once. He couldn’t imagine how amazing it would be to see you again. You even sent a few photos of yourself, with awards in school and how you were an amazing and contributing part of your community. You also sent him random gifts he would cherish, and he would send some back to you. Peter sent pictures back of himself, and after a while of communicating, he told you he was Spiderman. It was one the secrets he was planning on keeping to himself, but he couldn’t help but tell you, because of how accepting and loving you were to him.

He did have a crush on you, a massive one that his roommate groans at the mention of. When other girls are around, Peter never wanted to meet any of them. Just was odd to him, because he felt so connected to you. He hoped that you were the same with him, but he wasn’t sure. When Tony found out about the letters, he quickly searched you up and did excessive background checks on you, claiming it was just for security measures. But Peter knows that wasn’t true, it was because Tony was protective of him, and just nosy.

Peter set the pen down with a sigh, as his hand started to ache. He pushed the paper and pen aside as he heard his roommate come in. Peter spun around in his chair grinning to Mark. “How was class?” Peter greeted him. Mark shrugged back and threw his bag down to the floor.

“Nothing exciting. Just more work to do,” He paused, leaning down near the doorway as he opened the mini-fridge nearby. “Oh yeah, language classes are always like that.” Peter noted back, as he glanced down to his phone, half distracted. He started scrolling through social media with no interest. Mark cleared his throat, nodding to Peter as he glanced back up to him, “Want one?” Mark offered a beer. Peter scrunched his nose in disgust at it and shook his head.

“Nah, it’s the middle of the day, I don’t want to get drunk right now.” Peter responded, somewhat lying to Mark. Honestly, he just thought beer was disgusting, but if his roommate found out, he’d be teased for the rest of the semester. Mark shrugged at him, kicking the fridge closed with his foot and he hoped onto one of the chairs. “It’s pregaming for the party tonight.” Mark responded, opening the can with a sigh.

Peter nodded back, before twisting in his chair, bored. His phone dinged, but he barely glanced down at it, frowning at the foreign number. “Must be spam.” He mumbled to himself, deleting the text before he even read it. Peter looked back to Mark as he gulped his drink loudly, “Uh, should I stay out tonight, in case you bring anyone over?” Peter questioned.

Mark grinned back to Peter, “Fuck yeah, I’ve been sort of seeing Caleb from our film class. He texted me a dick pic this morning too, so I think we’ll come back here after the party.” Peter groaned at the mention of other dicks. He shook his head as Mark laughed loudly at his reaction.

Peter made an upside-down grin as he wondered where he should stay for the night. “Was it Heather’s party?” Peter mumbled over to Mark, making him nod back. Peter took note of that, as he pulled up Heather’s contact on his phone. He knew her from his Chemistry class, they were in a group together for the first project.

“You know she has a boyfriend, Pete. Don’t try messing around with her.” Mark spoke up as Peter started to type in a text. Peter furrowed his eyebrows at the suggestion and shook his head back to Mark, “I’d never do that.” He retorted, making Mark chuckle. He leaned forward with raised eyebrows to Peter, as he finished up his text, asking if he could stay in an extra room at her parent’s place. It was recently renovated, and Heather was throwing it in spite of her parents after telling her she would be kicked out if she kept throwing those parties. Her parties were always filled to the brim and exciting but Peter never really enjoyed them.

Peter glanced back up to Mark, confused at his staring. “Is it that girl from Berlin?” Mark teased, grinning as Peter started to blush. He averted his stare, instead glancing back at the letter, reminded of you. “Uh, I mean, I guess? But it’s also because I have morals, genius. I wouldn’t hit on someone who was in a relationship.” Peter defended himself back, crossing his arms as Mark started laughing more.

When he quieted down, he smiled at Peter, slowly becoming serious. Peter tilted his head back in confusion as Mark took in a long breath of air. “You know, what you have is special with her. I got to admit, sort of envied you but,” Mark paused as he ran a hand through his hair, “You aren’t even in a relationship with her. I think you should maybe throw a little bait out for the other girls in New York, Peter.”

They both sat in silence after Mark voiced his opinion. Peter gazed at him with a sad smile, “Uh, yeah maybe. Thanks man.” He offered back as Mark nodded. That’s what everyone told him, including the rest of the team. They always popped in about it mid-mission, saying he was wasting his love on a girl who wouldn’t ever return it. But Peter tried not to let their words drift in his mind. Maybe you didn’t love him like he did, but the friendship the two of you had would last a lifetime.

Your letters always made him feel the hope you might return the same feelings as his, but he wasn’t sure. More importantly, he valued your friendship over his love, because he knew you would be hurt if he suggested any less, and sound like some ignorant boy.

Peter brushed his teeth with concentration as he grumbled to himself, not wanting to go to the party. One main reason was because he still wanted to finish your letter by tonight, so he could take it to the mailbox before the mailman picks it up. It was your birthday soon, and he just wanted you to get it on time, preferably on your birthday. The other reason was because he just really wasn’t in the mood to get drunk tonight. It would take tons of drinks to get him drunk because of his enhancement, but when he tried it out, it wasn’t his thing. The taste always left something bitter in his mouth and his mood would sour. Parties weren’t his scene in college, he doubted he’d ever like it like Tony used to.

“Ready? Caleb and I are going in an Uber right now, want to join?” Mark’s voice called out to Peter through the door. Peter spit the toothpaste out, and responded with a “Yeah, hold up.” Peter shrugged on his shoes after he opened the door, seeing Caleb and Mark standing by the entrance. He waved to Caleb, who grinned to him.

The Uber ride was awkward. There was no way it would ever not be awkward since Mark and Caleb giggled and flirted the whole way there. Peter felt like that third wheel that wasn’t meant to be invited in the first place, but as he made eye contact with the Uber driver, he had to stifle his laugh. The driver looked irritated from the traffic, and now the odd kissing and whispering sounds from the back. Peter raised his eyebrows back to his roommate, as he pulled away from his date. Mark shrugged to Peter, sort of issuing an apologizing as Peter just shook his head again, laughing a little in the awkwardly quiet car now.

“Uh, sorry Parker.” Caleb offered, sheepishly grinning back to Peter as they got out the car. The driver sped off quick making the trio laugh. “That was sort of odd,” Mark hummed out, glancing over to Peter. His eyes drifted off to a pack of people, as Peter took that as a signal to go. He cleared his throat and glanced down to his feet, feeling weird to go into a crowd with people weren’t his friends.

He shuffled a little before gazing back up to them, “Uh, I’m going to go talk to people, bye! Nice seeing you.” He aimed the last part to Caleb, who nodded back to him. Peter turned around with a sigh as he rolled his eyes to himself, finding himself acting odd in social settings.

Peter did try talking to people, but it always ended with them saying they needed to get another drink. So after about the fourth person, he took a seat out in the backyard, near the pool. He set his phone down next to him, closing his eyes as the music blared from the inside of the house. He looked around seeing only a few people outside along with him, as he moved to lay down by the poolside, to look up at the sky.

It was polluted with clouds, so he couldn’t see the stars. He looked down at his watch, sighing when he saw it was only ten. He started to wonder when the party would die down but seeing through the windows, he could tell it would be at least a few hours more. His phone beeped again, but he made no move to check it, knowing it wasn’t the team because of the different sound. His eyes closed for a few moments, just resting as he tried focusing on the sound of the water. A shuffle near his head made him stir slightly, but he made no move to open his eyes, thinking it was just someone walking by.

But then Peter heard them take a seat next to him. He could even feel the warmth from whoever it was, travelling into his skin. “You’re looking comfortable.” A voice whispered to him. His eyes snapped open at the familiar sound. He turned his head to see you lying next to him with a smile. “Oh shit!” Peter exclaimed, completely baffled.

He went to stumble up, but his balance failed him, as he tripped on his feet, leaning back and trying to reach forward. You gasped, shooting up to your feet as he fell back into the freezing pool. “Peter!” You exclaimed, reaching for his hand too late. He managed to pull you in as well, making you instantly shiver and shout, swimming back up to the surface as Peter tried pulling you up as well.

The two of you trembled in the cold water as Peter stared back in shock at you, as you smiled at him again. “Y/n? Woah, what are you- how are you here? Am I just dreaming? Did I fall asleep?” Peter rambled, his lips turning blue already from the cold. You swam over to him, shaking your head softly.

You couldn’t believe you were here either. Two days ago, you had been granted a break from the harsh study routines from your college, as your teachers had agreed to upload the work online for you to continue from home. You were their model student, achieving up and beyond, but taking a break to remind yourself of the good things in life was necessary. After weeks of negotiating and meeting with your teachers and counselor, they finally let you free for a while. You took a few hours to realize, that not that many things were “good” for you, nothing that made you smile and forget about school, except for Peter.

At the thought of Peter, you decided just to fuck it, and book a ticket over there, you had to see him again. You two had switched contact information, including phone numbers, but never used that. You had him saved in your phone though, and you tried sending a text to him right before you got onto the plane, but it never went through. You were nervous he wouldn’t want to see you at all, but you remember reading how much he wanted to see you again. When you landed, you sent another text to him, just hoping he would remember your number.

He even gave you his Aunt’s number, saying if he never responded, to contact her. You remember discovering the reason why he ever said that, when he confessed, he was Spiderman. You couldn’t hide your surprise in that letter you sent him back, and you remembered worrying about him, whenever you would see Spiderman in the headlines. You still did, but now you felt more confident in him, after watching those old videos he posted on YouTube, thinking if that was his start, he must be even better now. You did end up sending his Aunt a text, explaining who you were, and you instantly got a text back.

She sent you “Hi! Peter gave me your number too! He tends to forget things, I think that’s why he gave it to me, but it’s so good to hear from you! And my goodness, he’s going to be amazed. He always talks about you, but I’m so excited that you guys are meeting again! I know he’s going to be at a party tonight, and I’ll send you the address. I’ll send Peter a text as well right now, just to tell him to expect a surprise!” You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face as you reread the text over again. You heard she was the best Aunt ever from Peter, and this showed you he was right.

You wondered from that text what it meant that Peter was always talking about you. You felt yourself warm at thinking that maybe he cared for you as you did for him? You tried shaking those thoughts away, but you’ve been having them for so long, after falling in love with his words. You wondered if he did with yours.

When Aunt May sent you the address, that’s when it hit you about what you were doing. You just travelled all this way for him, because he made you happy. He made you smile, and laugh, even without seeing him face-to-face. He made you feel warm and cared for with the way he wrote pages back to you, asking how you were doing, and showing you love in the words. Your friends and family always asked why you would write for hours in your room, and your only answer was “Peter.”

You really did love him.

You snapped back to the present as you tugged Peter into a tight hug, in the pool. “I missed you,” You shivered out, as Peter shook himself out of his surprise, squeezing you tight and laughing in amazement. “I missed you so much,” He replied instantly, pressing his face into your shoulder, not caring his face dipped into the water again.

Splashes hit around you two, as people shouted out, “Pool party!” Jumping into the water, not giving a care to you and Peter. You giggled at the water hitting the two of you as Peter held you tighter. “I missed you, fuck. Wait, let’s get out.” Peter mumbled into your ear again, letting go of your figure hesitantly. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of you completely though, so he held your hand, swimming back to the steps through the crowd of people shouting and jumping around the pool.

You squeezed his hand back, as the two of you got to the steps, standing up. Peter gazed at you for a few moments before he could bring himself out of the swimming pool. You were so beautiful, the backyard lights hit you wonderfully, and your smile made Peter feel like he was living in a dream. You looked similar to what Peter would call a goddess, and the way your eyes brightened to him, brought Peter a happiness he didn’t know was true.

“Peter?” You whispered, stepping closer to him, confused at his silence. His face burned as he looked away from you and your body, coughing. The way you said his name even made him blush. “You’re here, I- how?” Peter asked, tugging your hand as he stepped out of the pool. The two of you automatically shivered at the temperature drop in the air. You two quickly shuffled to the sliding doors, connected to the inside as Peter and you took small glances at each other, smiling bright.

When you two walked inside, you sighed out at the warmth as you glanced around, wincing at the loud music. Peter did as well, shaking his head at it as he pointed upstairs to you, trying to find a quiet place to talk. You held his hand tight, barely gazing at anyone else, except for Peter. His hand felt soft and warm in yours as you squeezed again, making Peter smile again. The two of you rounded in a hallway, walking down to the end room.

Peter sighed in relief when he opened the door, and no one was there. It looked like the guest room, as Peter slightly turned his eyes to check for anything. He stepped forward, letting your hand go as you stayed at the doorframe, stepping in and closing the door from the rest of the noise. The music dulled into a low sound now but the two of you could still feel the vibrations of the bass beating through you. You turned around and locked the door behind you, wanting to have privacy with him.

“I’m sorry if this was a strange thing to do, but I just had to see you again.” You mumbled, suddenly feeling nervous, glancing down to the floor as your smile slightly dropped. Peter instantly shook his head, and his eyes widened. “No, no, I- this was incredible. I’m really happy.” He stepped forward to you again, as you leaned against the door. You gazed back up to him, feeling your smile brighten again.

Peter smiled back to you, as his hand reached for yours again slowly. He slowly slipped his hand in yours, bringing you slightly forward with a laugh of amazement. “How’d you come here? I’m so surprised, but you’re here and I’m just really thankful.” His voice came out, as he tugged a little more at your hand.

You giggled at his actions and let him lead you slowly in a circle, by tugging on your hand lightly. “I needed to get away from school for a while, and I wanted to see you,” You paused as you stepped slightly closer to Peter, pulling him in for another hug. He held you tight as you rested your head on his chest. “You make me happy, Peter. Those letters…I love them, and they make me miss you even more, even though we’ve only hung out once. I feel like I’ve known you for years with the letters.” You murmured, finishing up.

Peter felt his heart start to speed up from your words. He squeezed you even more, as his hand slipped to the back of your head. “I feel that as well. Whenever I see my mail, I get so excited because I love reading whatever you send. When it’s random things,” Peter paused, laughing lightly causing you to smile brighter, “When it’s some just really bizarre shit, about a dream you have or when you say you’re thinking of me because you passed by the plaza we met in,” He paused again, softly speaking up to finish his words, “I love it all and I feel like you’ve been with me this whole time.”

You lifted your head from his chest to gaze up to him. He bit his lip, trying to keep his face from blushing as he gazed back down to you. You grinned to him suddenly, making him release a short breath of air, trying to shake the feeling of wanting to just get rid of all the space, and kiss you. “You know, I tried calling and texting you.” You mumbled, giggling a little as Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“What? When?” Peter questioned, shaking his head. You laughed as you stepped slightly back but holding onto his hand again. “Maybe like four times? I texted Aunt May.” You replied, making Peter widen his eyes in bafflement, “Uh, what- wait, what did my Aunt tell you?” Peter mumbled, feeling his embarrassment already.

You laughed slightly at his reaction. “Well she said you talk a lot about me, but I hope only the good things.” You retorted, making Peter sigh. Aunt May knew how much Peter cared about you, like she knew how he loved you. He would’ve been so ashamed if Aunt May told you that. But Peter raised his eyebrows back to you, falling more in love with your laugh.

“Everything about you is good.” He replied to your comment. You scrunched your face up and giggled, denying it. Peter let go of your hand as he turned around a bit, checking the room. He shook his head at your laugh, spinning back after glancing at the room. “It’s true, you are just…perfect. Everything about you is admirable, and it’s just, you’re an incredible person.” Peter’s words made your face feel hot as you shook your head back to him.

“No, that’s all you,” You paused, sighing as you stepped closer to the bed, and taking a seat. Peter still stood as he rounded in front of you with a soft expression. “You’re wonderful. Everything I already know about you just makes me want to know more.” You whispered back as he stepped slightly closer to you.

Peter felt his heart start to beat faster again as you slid your hand up and down his arm in comforting motions. Just being with you in this moment made him want to stay forever. You two were so close in everyway he wanted, just right now. His hand drifted over to your face, cupping your cheek as he smiled back to you.

You smiled back to him, suddenly aware of the intimacy. “Peter…” You trailed off, as his thumb started to draw little shapes into your cheek softly. “You make me so happy.” Peter whispered back. You other hand laid atop his on your face, making Peter pause in his movements. The two of you stared at each other lovingly. Peter tried to shake it off, but he couldn’t help but fall more in love with you. It stunned him that you were here, and he was holding you. He leaned in slightly more as he glanced down to your lips.

You saw his little stare, causing you to drift your eyes down to his lips as well. You smiled lightly as you pulled his hand, causing him to lean close to your face, bending slightly. You moved up and captured his lips in a small and hesitant kiss, just hoping you didn’t mess up your entire friendship with him. Peter gasped and took a short second before he responded, pushing back in and kissing you even more. You couldn’t hold back your smile, as Peter stepped in close between your legs, leaning into your kiss and causing you to slowly move backwards on the bed.

Peter’s hand drifted to the back of your head, holding you as the two of you kissed sensually and slowly. “Fuck,” Peter pulled back, murmuring quietly. His head was still on yours, as the two of you started to breathe hard. “Yeah,” You agreed, smiling brightly. Peter smiled back to you, as he leaned back in, and kissed you again.

The kiss started off slow again, but it increasingly got faster, as the both of you kissed each other harder. You fell completely back on the bed, with Peter on top of you, kissing sloppily but passionately. His tongue found its way into your mouth, as you moaned slightly in surprise. Peter’s other hand slid onto your hip, squeezing gently as he sighed out in pleasure.

You tugged at his hair again, feeling incredibly happy. When Peter pulled away for air, he rolled over next to you, laying on the bed. He gazed at you with a love doped smile, and you did as well. “I wanted to do that for so long,” Peter confessed, blushing at you. His blush was too cute, and you reached over and cupped his cheek. “So did I.” You replied, whispering.

He smiled so brightly it started to hurt, as his head started to spin. “I’m in love with you,” He mumbled, gazing at you with emotion. You raised your eyebrows in surprise and happiness, as you laughed slightly. “I’ve fallen in love with you too.” You admitted, playing with his hair.

Peter felt like all his wishes have been granted, just laying here with you. The way the words fell out of your mouth made him feel lightheaded, and the way your hand tugged, and your fingers circled around his hair grounded him. He scooted closer to you again, as you smiled softly to him. His fingers landed on your lips, lightly tracing them, covering the tips of his fingers with saliva. He lightly pulled your moth open again, as he leaned in for another kiss.

“Fuck, I really love you.” Peter mumbled into the kiss. You giggled, pulling away. “I love you too,” You murmured back, pulling him in again. Your hand slipped under his shirt and gasped at the feeling of his torso. Peter pulled away again, and laughed, speeding to take his shirt off. He tore it off, getting on his knees on the bed, as you did as well, giggling with him.

You gazed up and down his body, feeling arousal build in you. Peter blushed at your stare as you scooted closer to him again. You placed a small kiss on his shoulder, leading it to his neck, making Peter gasp. His arms wrapped around you as he felt his erection grow. He trembled lightly when you started to lick at his neck, and he held you tighter. “I-I’ve never done this before.” Peter mumbled out, stuttering in nervousness but excitement.

You nipped at his neck before gazing back to him. “I haven’t either.” You confessed, lightly whispering. His fingers trailed under your shirt nervously. “Wo-would it be okay?” Peter asked for permission to take your shirt off. You nodded back to him, as he slowly lifted it off, smiling to him.

“Do you want to,” You paused, glancing down at your body as you started to grow wet. “To…make love?” You asked unsurely, cringing at the use of words. Peter blushed as he looked down at your chest as his erection started to feel uncomfortable. He nodded back to you, “Yes!” he blurted, quickly adding on, “Only if you want to.”

You nodded back to him, pushing down your nervousness as you felt another wave a lust hit you. Peter shyly put his hand on the back of your bra, unclipping it with a small sigh. When the bra dropped down, and you pushed it off your arms, Peter gazed back up to you, smiling. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, holding your body to his before he pulled you back in for another kiss. Peter groaned at the feeling of being against you, and you opened your mouth into the kiss, allowing Peter’s tongue through. You sighed at the feeling, as you started to feel down his body. You gasped when his boner hit your hand as Peter pushed you down against the bed, near the pillows now.

“Fuck, you look so good,” You spoke up as Peter leaned away from you, slipping his shoes off. He blushed at your compliment as he started taking off his pants. You started to take yours off too, but Peter stopped you and took control, taking them off for you. He blushed even more at the sight of your underwear.

You gazed down at his underwear as well, with the feeling of getting more wet at the sight of his erection now. You sat up as Peter brushed a hand through his hair. “I remember your first letter, and you told me how you were so happy we ran into each other in Berlin.” You paused, smiling at the memory. “And you sent me a bracelet; I still have it. It’s one of my favorite things.” You admitted, finishing your sentence. Peter blushed at that, as he adjusted his boner, finding it uncomfortable against his underwear.

“You sent me one back,” Peter smiled as you started to reach out to him. “I wear it whenever I’m on missions. It’s my good luck charm.” He chuckled lightly. You nodded back to him, as you trailed a finger up and down his chest.

You shook your head again, giggling softly, “I love you,” You repeated, as Peter started to smile more. “I love you too.” He whispered. Your hand drifted down to the band of his underwear, slightly tugging it down. You glanced up to him, asking him a silent question, to which he nodded. You pulled the underwear more down his legs, revealing his boner, popping out and hitting his stomach.

You parted your lips at the sight as Peter blushed again. You stood up on your knees on the bed and pushed Peter back down where you were laying. You scooted down to in between his legs, and you slowly started massaging his inner thighs.

Peter trembled at the feeling as he pushed himself slightly up against the headboard to watch you. He sighed out as you trailed your hands closer to his cock. “Please…” Peter begged, closing his eyes tight, already hearing his heartbeat outside of his body. You smiled softly just as soon as your hand lightly grazed against him. “Oh...” You heard Peter sigh out, as his eyes opened back up to gaze at you.

You smeared the precum on the top of hic cock, smiling even more as you heard his breathing turned heavier. “Your so pretty,” You whispered, referring to his cock, as your finger trailed on the underneath of it, tracing the vein. Peter blushed harshly at your voice as you licked your finger before pushing yourself closer.

You teasingly licked at his cock and watched as Peter banged his head against the headboard. “Please, please, baby, fuck.” Peter begged out, reaching out to push your head down. You moved away before he could and giggled at his frustrated face. You leaned back down and sent another long lick from the base to the tip, before you licked around his head.

You took him in your mouth, making Peter groan out loudly at the feeling of being inside. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” Peter panted out, as you started to lower your mouth slightly. You struggled to get him all in your mouth, as you opened your mouth as wide as you can. Peter reached behind your head again, curling his fingers against your scalp as he lightly pushed you down. His hips also reached up, as you moaned at the feeling. Peter gasped out a groan at the vibration that sent through his cock from your noise, making you glance up to him with darkened eyes. You hummed loudly again moving your mouth up and down, taking him in. Peter kept moaning and gasping at the feeling, and his head hit against the headboard again, losing eye contact with you, “You- fuck, babe, oh,” Peter breathed out, unable to form a full sentence.

You used your hand, pumping up and down, collecting some saliva to cover the rest of his cock, that you couldn’t take into your mouth. Peter tensed up feeling like he was about to come as he started to grasp onto your hair. “Wait, hold- fuck, I might come,” He stuttered out, making you pause. You slowly took his cock out of your mouth, licking your lips. Peter sighed out, feeling out of breath and amazed, “Shit, that was so good,” He pushed out.

You grinned back to him, as you moved out from in between his legs before you laid down, breathing hard next to him. “Fuck, you’ve got a great dick.” You said again, giggling as Peter stuttered, “Wha-, um, thanks.” He blushed but turned to face you, gazing at your chest. You pulled him in for a messy kiss, after a few more seconds of breathing. Peter instantly returned your kiss, pulling you in closer, and on top of him. Peter moaned at the feeling of your soaked underwear on his thigh, as he pushed his thigh up a little more, making you gasp in pleasure.

Peter grinned into the kiss, as he pressed down your hips, rolling you back and forth onto his thigh, making you moan even more into the kiss, pulling away breathless. “Shit…” You trailed off, at the feeling of your clothed clit hitting his thigh just right. He tugged at your panties, and he gazed back up to you.

“Can I rip them off? I promise to buy you a new pair.” He breathed out, as even more lust pulled into his stomach, at the feeling of you getting yourself off on his thigh. You nodded back, unable to speak as he rolled your hips again, hitting you in the best place. He quickly tore at both sides, and slide them off in an instant, and you both hushed out whimpers at the feeling. “You’re so warm,” Peter whispered, as you slid down against him again, breathing heavily.

You almost cried out at the feeling, rubbing yourself with Peter’s help, lifting you up and down, and sliding you back and forth against his leg. His fingers swiped up some of the juices that collected on his leg from you and licked them, sighing out at the taste. You only grew even wetter, as he slid his fingers down again, and this time, rubbed against your clit as you lowered yourself on his thigh.

“That’s it, baby, you can do it,” He mumbled softly, watching as your eyes opened and closed at the intense feelings. He lifted his fingers against slightly, exhaling as you rolled your hips at a set pace, settling your pussy against him. He circled softly, pushing up onto your clit, as you rolled downwards again, making you gasp.

You pushed your lips against his, to stop your noises from escaping as the music continued to blare from outside the room. You bucked your hips up and moved down, eyes closed tight as you whined out from the intense pleasure. Peter’s cock kept hitting your thigh as you continued your movements for the next few minutes, traveling up to Peter’s lips, biting them and licking and moving down to his neck as he continued to help move you on his thigh.

It was then when you felt your orgasm near and you opened your mouth, crying out from the stimulation. “I- I’m going to come,” You panted out, warning Peter. He nodded, and rubbed into your thighs, “Alright, babe, come for me.” He grunted out, with his cock burning for more as he felt your juices slide across his thigh. You gasped through your orgasm, murmuring Peter’s name as you held your head against his shoulder, as he continued to praise you, “That’s it, baby, such a good girl. You’re doing amazing.” You cried out in desire from his words and your orgasm, as it faded out of you.

You took a couple of minutes to start breathing normally as Peter kissed your cheek, whispering compliments and praises to you. You moved your head slightly to look up to him, “Fuck that was really great.” Your words made Peter shake his head back to you, as he slowly lifted you up to lay down next to him. “I want to try something out,” He shyly spoke up, gazing down at the mess you made on his thigh. He swiped some of your cum up and licked it, making you feel wetness pull again down in your pussy.

You nodded back to him, with an excited smile. He smiled back to you, and quickly turned and placed himself between your legs, leaning down with a gasp. “Fuck, so pretty.” He mumbled, making you feel a blush warm your face.

He started out by licking the rest of your cum off your thighs from earlier, making you tremble. “Mm, you taste so good, fuck.” He muttered, licking around your thighs again, collecting every piece of cum. “You’re doing so good too, fuck.” He praised again. You gasped at it, as you felt your pussy get even more wet than before.

Peter leaned a little more forward, breathing in while facing your pussy, before sending a long stripe to it. You gulped in pleasure, trying to hold down your moans as Peter continued. “Do you think you can come again, babe?” He asked you, before he continued. When you nodded instantly, Peter grinned and leaned down.

He licked right on your clit, making you bite your lip. His fingers found their way to your entrance, and he slowly pushed one in after collecting some of your wetness. He curled his finger in you, once he fully pushed in as he continued to lick around your pussy. “Fuck, so- ohh,” You moaned out, grasping onto Peter’s hair and tugging at it. He hummed against your clit, making you shudder as he started to push another finger in.

Peter’s tongue circled around your clit before nibbling on it gently, making you wail out in pleasure, pushing Peter’s head in even more, as you started calling out his name. He did it again, as he started pumping in and out of you with his fingers, hitting your g-spot, and making you cry loudly, from the immense pleasure.

You felt it burning again, as your orgasm pushed out of you with no warning, and you let out a chocked scream, followed by Peter’s name. He quickly pulled his fingers out of you and licked up all your cum, as you were shuddering and still going through your orgasm. It felt like hours almost, the way you were shivering in delight as you rolled your head to glance down to Peter. You blinked hazily to him and smiled brightly as he leaned back up kissing your body all the way up to your lips. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around him, as he leaned down onto you.

“You’re so beautiful and perfect.” Peter mumbled against your lips. You giggled slightly, still doped up from your orgasms. “So are you,” You whispered back to him, kissing him even more.

Peter gasped slightly when he felt your body touch his cock again. You glanced down and smiled back up to Peter. “Are you ready?” You whispered to him, kissing his shoulder softly. Peter nodded back to you and kissed your lips again. His lips opened against yours, as the kiss started to get sloppy once again. You groaned into it, tugging and playing with his hair.

Peter slightly pulled away as he positioned himself to you. He trembled with slight nervousness as he gazed back down to you, “I love you,” He whispered. You smiled back, and breathed in, “I love you too, Peter.”

He slowly pushed into you, as you gasped from the stretch. He stopped instantly, hearing your gasp, and he worriedly asked you, “Are you alright, do you want me to move?” His question made you shake your head, telling him it was alright. You grabbed onto one of his hands, holding tightly as you felt yourself adjust to him, “Okay, keep going,” You whispered back, nodding.

He continued, groaning in amazement, at the feeling. Your eyes fluttered shut as it continued to be uncomfortable, but you slowly eased yourself more, unclenching to let him all in. When he pulled back slowly, you started to get used to it more, as a heat started to bump more, making you feel more aroused. When Peter slowly eased himself back into you, you started feeling good, making you sound out, “More, please,” Your plea made Peter shudder in excitement as he pushed into you with a faster speed.

You both moaned loudly, and you wrapped your legs around Peter as he started to gain a pace. “So fuckin’ perfect,” Peter grunted out, as you started to pull him in more with your legs. Your eyes opened, gazing at Peter as he continued to go in and out of you.

One of his hands went down to your chest, circling around one of your nipples, making you gasp in surprise. He pinched and tweaked it, making you cry out from all the pleasure you were experiencing. He yelped out in pleasure when you rolled your hips up, meeting him in his thrusts. “Fuck,” You whined out, breathing heavily. Peter nodded as he leaned down to kiss you hard again.

You gasped loudly, almost crying as he hit your g-spot, into the kiss. Peter moved his kissing down to your neck, sloppily leaving saliva all over your jaw and neck. He stayed in place, hitting the same spot as he pulled in and out of you, making you cry out each time at the intensity.

Peter grunted, feeling himself almost reach his orgasm, as you did as well. He kept pushing in and out of you with a pace, hitting you even deeper as you met every thrust. His hand left your nipple, while he continued to kiss and suck your neck, traveling down to your clit, and rubbing it hard, making you whimper loudly, as your vision started to blur from everything.

With each thrust into your g-spot and every touch sent to your clit, you felt your orgasm max out again, “P-Peter, I’m go-going-” You cut yourself short, screaming out his name as your orgasm hit you, gushing out cum as Peter reached his as well. His thrust started to become erratic and shallow, before he pulled out, leaking cum onto your chest in spurts.

Your cum leaked out onto the sheets as you breathed in and out heavily, along with Peter. He collapsed next to you with a loud groan. Your head lulled over to gaze at him, as you felt his lips near your ear. “That,” Peter sighed out, wiping his face from the sweat that built up, “was amazing.” He finished up, earning a little laugh from you.

You nodded back to him, as he kissed your nose softly. “I love you,” You whispered, staring at him with affection. His hand cupped your cheek and he kissed your lips this time, gently. “I love you too, so much.” He murmured back, smiling softly back to you.

The two of you cuddled, laying there for hours, while tenderly whispering to each other sweet little phrases about love. The both of you were sticky and gross feeling from the cum that clung onto your skin, when you got up to shower, after noticing the music turned down greatly, making you both know the party ended.

Peter held out his hand for you to join him, making you laugh. You could barely walk in without wincing at the uncomfortable and painful feeling between your legs. Peter wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into the hot water with him. You delicately kissed his chest as he squeezed you gently. “I don’t want to go back,” You confessed, running a hand up and down his back in comfort.

He nodded, agreeing with you. “I want you to stay.” He mumbled back, wanting to hold onto you forever. He kissed your head softly, as you fluttered your eyes closed, savoring the sweet and loving memories in your mind.

Marvel Taglist: @peepeeparkerr @lozzypoz321 Peter Taglist: @itscaminow @belleknows @quaksonhehe All Taglists are open!

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gesternchen · 3 years

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Just randomly reviewing scenes from the movies no one remembers now. This week: Avatar (2009).

It’s not like everyone forgot James Cameron’s Avatar. Since we’re still getting some footage from behind the scenes of the sequel and news about the cast, at least someone takes pains to remind themselves of this cinematic experience from the year of 2009. It’s already been 84 (just kidding, 11) years and I’m still looking forward to at least watching the teaser (fun fact: I was 11 when Avatar came out, I’m 22 now). I even bought the Darkhorse comic book on Tsu’Tey’s backstory to, you know, investigate one of my favorite characters a little bit better (spoiler: the backstory wasn’t very much eventful but I noticed a nice detail there which I may talk about briefly a bit later).

Throughout the years Avatar has received a lot of backlash and more or less justified criticism, mainly for the plot and its problematic packaging. I believe, it depends on the perspective one watches a movie from. Of course, I wouldn’t call it an absolute gem of exciting storytelling, even though I truly enjoy it, as in majority its twists are undeniably predictable. However, I always disagreed with people saying relations in Avatar aren’t deep at all. Well, romance between Jake and Neytiri, which, let’s be honest, except for the scene of telling the truth, went too smoothly, and this is why I strongly believe clash of interests is inevitable in sequels. Their interaction remained the key one for the whole movie, and nothing is bad about that, people enjoy a nice lovestory, so do I. But 11 years after I’d like to focus on the disturbing conflict everyone prefers to ignore for some reason when recalling Avatar. For me it’s always been Jake versus Colonel Quaritch.

You guys may have already guessed which scenes I wanna talk about. Those really important ones that I consider climactic to the pace of narration. And what is more about them, they give us crucial details in character development and actors’ play to think through. The main message: Quaritch knew it was coming.

Let me firstly touch upon the scene of short conversation between Jake and Quaritch prior to Sully presumably leaving Pandora. While Jake is awating Quaritch in a large empty hall, he hardly seems to be calm about the talk, every nerve in his body is trembling, but why?

The way Jake’s drumming his fingers on the table makes me wonder if he’s okay.

Then Colonel enters the hall, grabs a chair and reminds that it had been more than two weeks since he got the latest report on how the misson was going. He knows, Sully is questioning reality, and no, he’s not ‘doubting his resolve’. He knows, the right moment to ‘terminate the mission’ is missed. He knows, he lost Jake. He knows, he’s talking to the deserter. Yet Quaritch speaks indifferent. He praises Jake’s effort and rewards him for that. With real legs he promised to him when they first talked. Quaritch hoped they’d trigger the realization in Jake. Which doesn’t happen. How sad he looks when Jake openly refuses to accept the reward.

In just one sequence Stephen’s face demonstrates the shift of all four feelings Quaritch goes through: dissatisfaction, melancholy, shame, disgust.

Quaritch sensed the moment when Jake expressed superiority to the mankind. Jake grasped that Quaritch knew everything, he played with fire, and that’s why he felt anxiety. And it lasted all the way until Quaritch stepped back for leaving the hall. But did Colonel really surrender? I doubt that.

The tension between them both feels electric, so it’s explainable why Jake’s transient smile is so awkward. Sam then heavily staring straight at Colonel's back suggests that up until now Jake regarded Quaritch as his enemy. The enemy he knew he would not be able to defeat.

I remember when watching this scene, I couldn’t get myself the answer to one question. The question was: which report did Quaritch refer to? ‘That report from two weeks ago’, but such information wasn’t satisfactory for me. To be honest, this small discovery became the actual reason why I decided to type this study. Let’s assume that this particular report which Quaritch mentioned was the videolog where Jake confessed that Omaticaya wouldn’t leave the Hometree. Here’s why.

The general audience is used to perceiving Quaritch as a cruel short-tempered military man who just waits for the starting pistol’s shot to destroy everything in sight. Again, nothing is wrong about this, the fact that his character was simply meant to be a generic personification of such type doesn’t leave us with any alternative impression of him. Let’s say, if he was given the order to ignite the operation of the Hometree’s destruction to screw the tribe out of the site, he would absolutely go for it (and so he does). He’s a man of his word after all. Let’s also say, if he was pissed off by Jake’s betrayal, he would transport himself to the mountain site in a blink of an eye, turn off the link and put Jake in jail right after the talk in the hall. Instead, Quaritch decided to wait and give Jake the last chance. Jake preffered unearthly wings to those more tangible, so Quaritch chose not to cut them so abruptly.

We’re moving to the next scene, taking place right before a toned down fight between Tsu’Tey and Jake (I’m saying so, because it’s actually one of the deleted scenes that got edited out of the final cut, and believe me, the pressure between two rivals there is way too intense). Quaritch is watching the record of Jake destroying bulldozer’s lenses with a stone. After that Jake’s face is zoomed and we watch Selfridge get frustrated, Quaritch looks pretty annoyed as well but doesn’t seem to be much surprised. What he’s feeling, is bitter disappointment in himself and knowing that he totally failed to persuade Jake to change his mind.

Just observe Stephen Lang’s performance here. He absolutely nails cold-eyed look, the fire burning slow inside of him is so palpable, and guess what, in a flash he flies off the handle.

Now, shall we check the ultimate scene, preceding the destruction of the Hometree. Though Grace versus Parker juxtaposition is central to this scene, the last time Quaritch confronting Jake face to face in his human body is essential to consider for making things clear.

When it comes to revealing to Selfridge the vainness of further negotiations with Omaticaya, isn’t it just interesting how fast Quaritch manages to find the correct videolog? It literally takes him not more than a couple of swipes to produce the proof. Here is why: he’s already watched the record and is completely aware of the Jake’s values having deteriorated.

You can tell, Jake knew he was under control, but he would rather like to ingnore this fact. His pathetic glance at Quaritch, who’s almost impending above his head, causes to think Jake would guess that Colonel could have watched this videolog. Rather, it was a mutual secret between the two of them until a turning point. But the moment of truth came, and Jake didn’t change his mind. Quaritch made sure of that and finally it was his time to triumph.

So how was it even possible to assume Quaritch may have watched the videolog I’ve been talking about for so long? Well, my explanation may be too easy to believe, but still: we can tell by Jake’s appearance and the date of the record that it is the vlog we need.

This telltale videolog was recorded 16 minutes after the another one, when Jake says that he’s uncertain, who he is anymore (LST abbreviation stands for Local Standard Time). Jake might have suddenly felt depressed and hopeless and got back to the camera while being too emotionally instable, and so must have forgotten to delete the final record.

I have one more note for you. If you check the videolog library Quaritch is swiping through, you’ll see that the latest important record, which he actually needs, is made in the interior of the mountain site block and dates back to August, 13. Other recent vlogs’ covers look nothing like Site 26 sequence. Jake may not have done any of these records at the mountain site. I still wonder though where those three or four ensuing videologs were recorded, the location seems to be red lighted, which means it isn’t blue lighting at Site 26. I may even assume he recorded some pieces at Hell’s Gate. Why would I think so? Probably because in those two scenes (dialog with Quaritch and confession at Parker’s office) Jake looks ten times better than before, he gained some weight at least and doesn’t resemble a living sceleton.

Selfridge gave Jake an hour to relocate the tribe, while gunships led by Colonel’s Dragon were already on full alert. Quaritch had no doubt that Jake’s peacekeeping mission would fail. He knew it from the beginning. Hence he sounds so sarcastic seeing Sully’s avatar tied.

Now Quaritch sipping his villain’s morning coffee tasting like fresh genocide doesn’t feel so cringy: he’s celebrating his victory over Jake (still I should agree with critisism on this point, it really is a stupid cliche and wasn’t intended to carry a deep meaning).

Now I should admit, it’s been a long journey to run this investigation and bring it to light by finally posting it. It took me around a day to collect my thoughts and express them by means of more or less readable English. Just would like to make a little side note: English is not my native, so I promise I did my best! Thanks to James Cameron for making a movie, which woke me up in the middle of the night to start reflecting, and to all the fans out there who still exist and remember this movie and so can read this essay. @avatarmovies I found your blog not so long ago and you guys say you enjoy headcanons (and movie reviews probably?..), so it would be nice if you reblogged this but I’m not insisting!!

#avatar #james cameron #james cameron avatar #movie reviews #avatar movies #colonel quaritch #jake sully #characters in conflict #gesternchen reviews

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theunderdogwrites · 3 years

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In Defense of Marilyn Manson

Just kidding.

This is another one of those ‘if you live under a rock, you might not know what is going on’ pieces. But because this story appears to be unfolding daily, I’d think you’ve heard a murmur here or there even if you haven’t really paid too much attention to it because for many, I think this may fall into the “that guy has been a messed-up weirdo for years so I’m not surprised” category.

Please note that in NO WAY I am making fun of this situation, but I learned a long time ago that I require a certain amount of humor to be able to digest much of what this world presents to me.

As always, let me give you the Coles Notes version with the hopes you will go and do your own reading as well.

On February 1 actress Evan Rachel Wood posted this on her Instagram:

"The name of my abuser is Brian Warner, also known to the world as Marilyn Manson. He started grooming me when I was a teenager and horrifically abused me for years. I was brainwashed and manipulated into submission. I am done living in fear of retaliation, slander or blackmail. I am here to expose this dangerous man and call out the many industries that have enabled him, before he ruins any more lives. I stand with the many victims who will no longer be silent."

Quick history lesson – They started dating in 2007 when she was 18 and he was 34 and were engaged for a brief time in 2010.

This was Manson’s response to what she wrote:

"Obviously, my art and my life have long been magnets for controversy, but these recent claims about me are horrible distortions of reality. My intimate relationships have always been entirely consensual with like-minded partners. Regardless of how - and why - others are now choosing to misrepresent the past, that is the truth."

Since the original statement on February 1 a number of women have come forward with stories of their own ranging from physical and emotional abuse to human trafficking. And everyday something new is revealed. Evan Rachel Woods is feverishly posting on her Insta-Story and is slowly burying Manson in an ocean of consequences. She isn’t “fired up” or “a woman scorned”, she is a victim rising above the shame she has felt and the fear of what others will say about her to tell her story and encourage others to do the same. She is the voice that started the ball rolling. The ball that is about to crush Marilyn Manson.

Whenever I write stuff that is currently being heavily featured in the media, I always dive into articles so I can get as much information as possible. But more importantly, I plunge my sensitive little soul into the murky depths known as “the comments section”. I do this because unlike those polished, finished pieces the comments section will give you a better idea of what your fellow human beings think and feel about the topic at hand. And it is never polished or even polite. And often not for the faint at heart. In case you didn’t already know – people can be quite terrible.

The comments section is the modern-day gladiator pit. Only most (not all) of the participants are not ripped, athletic warriors but rather drooling basement dwellers with one hand down their pants (not gender specific by the way) and the other hand maltreating the letters on their keyboard.

Side note: Look, I am not the grammar police as I often just push past all the warnings from the Gestapo editing program in Microsoft Word. BUT I know the value of proper spelling, well placed punctuation and valid attempts to appear smarter than a domesticated turkey by making sure sentences are well-thought out and complete. Raising your argument doesn’t mean USING ALL CAPS AND ABUSING THESE THINGS -> !!!

I just deleted three paragraphs going over the recent “reckoning” that has taken place in the past few years with regards to sexual and physical abuse accusations against (mostly) men in positions of some kind of power. I eliminated all that writing because I started to tumble off topic. I’m not writing about all the dicks now getting their comeuppance, but rather the reactions to it being Marilyn Manson’s turn in the chamber.

Victim shaming is sadly a real thing.

The easiest way I can explain this to you – if a person gets pickpocketed and then blamed because they should’ve known better than to carry their wallet in their back pocket.

Evan Rachel Woods and others have come out to accuse Manson of some pretty appalling acts of abuse and what I’ve found to be the biggest reaction is, “How did they not know he was a bad guy? His music is so graphic and they thought it was all an act? Why did they stay so long?”. As innocent as those questions might seem, and I say that because our brains don’t always serve us or others well, it is a form of discrediting those women. Let’s be honest here… it’s hard to look at Marilyn Manson and his art form and not say, “What the fuck, this guy has bad idea written all over him!”. I feel that is a perfectly reasonable response, but that is where it should end. I think it is fair to pause and attempt to understand the choices of others, but it’s heartless to minimize their experience by placing blame on them for a situation we couldn’t possibly understand if it has never happened to us.

And like I’ve quoted before: People only understand from their level of perception. But that doesn’t stop them from laying on the judgement and damaging already fragile individuals with their inability to show compassion for a fellow human being. Reading through comment sections isn’t just maddening, it’s disappointing and sad but also a real look into how awful many people feel about themselves… to the point where they seem to derive some pleasure or satisfaction from condemning a rape victim for wearing a short skirt and getting drunk.

So… we have to touch on this to be balanced: innocent until proven guilty. Only these days it’s an automatic trial by media with the public acting as judge, jury and executioner. This is where “cancel culture” steps in and within days can destroy an entire career / life. I am not a fan of cancel culture. It does not give people a chance to learn from their mistakes or make amends as it immediately harms their very existence. Often times even before any proof has surfaced. I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous this is… the fact that just an accusation could ruin your life.

Let me make this clear: if someone comes forward and claims they’ve been sexually assaulted/abused, they need to be taken seriously and not dismissed based upon the circumstances, their gender identity, the color of their skin, their economic position or profession or the person they’re accusing. In turn, the individual being accused should be given time to address the claims before the public begins demolishing their life.

A reoccurring comment in almost all these cases where someone comes forward and alleges abuse YEARS after it happened, is – “Why did they wait so long to come forward?”.

Is this a fair question? Sure. And I feel it is asked because our brain needs to find a way to understand the information we are being given. Because while we’d all like to think that if in the same situation we’d be unfuckable with and anyone who dared to bring damage to our doorstep would immediately suffer the consequences, we actually cannot predict our reaction. There are too many unknown variables to be able to confidently say we’d instantly speak up and seek retribution.

The fear of not being believed. The fear of being blamed. The fear of rejection. The fear of retaliation from the person being accused. The fear of being forever defined by your experience. The fear.

It does not matter the why, what matters is the chance they’ve taken by speaking up at all. Those who come forward should be embraced, not ridiculed. Not abandoned. Not criticized.

“Don’t ask why victims wait so long to speak up. Ask what systems were in place to keep them quiet”. Anonymous

I own a few Marilyn Manson CD’s. And I’ve even attended one of his concerts. Would I say I am a fan? Probably a number of years ago I was but truthfully, I’ve not paid attention to any of his music in recent years because I feel it devolved while my taste evolved. That’s not a slam against him or anyone who fancies his work, it’s more a statement on how I’ve matured and now seek out music that feels authentic to me.

The one concert I attended was opened by Courtney Love. I know, what a duo to pay money to see. Near the end of Manson’s set he made a disparaging remark about Love and trashed her music. At the time he was wearing some pretty hefty platform shoes so it made it all the more hilarious when from out of nowhere she charged like a rhino and tackled him to the stage; throwing punches at his head all the way down. When he finally was able to get up, he announced the show was over. There would be no encore and then him and his bandmates trashed the stage in a temper tantrum worthy of a toddler Napoleon. Still makes me laugh to this day.

Shoutout to Evan Rachel Wood and her most recent movie ‘Kajillionaire’. Watched it on demand about a month ago and it’s a brilliant comedy that will also pull at your heart. I highly recommend you give it a chance.

Check out the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xiMPCevu8Wk

#evan rachel wood #victim shaming #marilyn manson #comments section #kajillionaire

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nikki-writes-stuff · 4 years

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Sweet As Sin - Part One

Summary: After losing your job and having to spend all of your savings, you find yourself completely broke as you desperately search for a job. On a whim, you join a website for sugar babies and sugar daddies can meet, and you’re surprised when you immediately make a connection with Captain America, of all people. But as you grow closer to Steve, you start to realize that there may be a dark side to America’s golden boy.

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Steve Rogers x Reader, with eventual Dark!Steve Rogers

Read Part Two here!

After reaching a certain point in life, people generally come to the realization that the old adage of “when it rains, it pours” is true. At least, that was what you were thinking as you walked to your car, cheeks still burning with shame from what had just transpired in the grocery store.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your card was declined. Do you have any other methods of payment?”

The words echoed in your ears as you drove home; of course you didn’t have another method of payment. You hadn’t ever since your job laid you off. You’d been living off of unemployment for a few months now, barely able to afford rent and living off a diet consisting mostly of ramen noodles. What’s more, you’d just had to get your car fixed after someone t-boned you at the intersection across from your house. So now, you didn’t even have any more savings to fall back on. It was even worse than when you’d been in college; back then, there had at least been a goal in mind. Just graduate, you’d told yourself, and then you’ll find a job.

Well, you’d graduated a year ago, and now you were back to where you’d started – broke and desperate.

You slammed the door shut when you entered your apartment, kicking your shoes off before throwing yourself onto the sofa. You lay on your back, looking up at the ceiling as your stomach growled at you.

“Yeah, I’m hungry, too,” you told it. Looks like it was noodles in broth for dinner again, tonight.

Anxiety was constantly clawing at your chest these days, especially now that you were too broke to afford your medication. Later on that evening, you stood over your stove while typing ‘how to make money fast’ into Google. It was a cheap shot, one that you didn’t foresee getting you anywhere, but it was at least something to take your mind off of things while you waited for the water on the stove to heat up.

That was when you saw the add. ‘Finding Arrangements – Where beautiful, successful people find mutually beneficial relationships’ – basically, a website for Sugar Daddies looking for a pretty set of tits to spend money on. You huffed a laugh and scrolled past it, only to return to it a few seconds later.

You chewed on your lip, pondering the link sitting right there on the screen, so engrossed in your thoughts that you jolted when the water started boiling over, sizzling onto the stovetop beneath it. With a curse, you turned down the heat and added the noodles, stirring them in with the seasoning packet as you thought it over. It wouldn’t hurt to check, right? Just a quick glance wouldn’t hurt; if you signed up and didn’t like any of the people you matched with, you could just delete your profile and pretend it never happened.

Your thoughts lingered on the idea as you sat on the couch, still hungry after finishing your meager meal. You’d brought the link up on your laptop, and now you were staring at the site’s homepage. To the right, there was a link to sign up, and to the left, there was a picture of a man in a business suit surrounded by three beautiful women. You gulped, starting to psych yourself out as you stared at the image. But then you closed your eyes and thought about the number in your bank account, and it was enough to motivate you to start typing.

You filled out your personal information and clicked the link the website sent to your email, confirming your new membership. When it came to choose a profile photo, you chose one of yourself from your graduation day. You were standing in your college’s auditorium, wearing a dress made out of gold fabric that was covered with thick black lace; it was your favorite picture of yourself, and you hoped that the dress wasn’t too revealing. It had a high neckline, but it had only come down to about mid-thigh.

You filled out the ‘About Me’ section and then paused when you came to the next question – What are you looking for in a relationship? You thought for a moment, biting your lip and turning over your words before starting to type again.

This is my first time trying out a relationship like this, you wrote. So I would like to find someone who I can trust to guide me through it. In return, I would like to be able to give my (you cringed as you typed the next two words) Sugar Daddy a fulfilling, comfortable relationship in return.

After reviewing your profile, you uploaded it, forcing yourself to sit back from your laptop and breathe. It was out there now; people would see it. Wealthy, presumably powerful people would see it. You closed your computer and hurried to put a movie on, choosing one of your old favorites; it had helped you when you were feeling anxious before.

By the time you finished the movie, you’d mostly calmed down, controlling your nerves until they were just a dull ache in your chest. Before you stood up and went to bed, you checked your phone, eyes bulging when you saw that you already had five replies to your profile.

You opened your notifications, scrolling through the different profiles. Four of them were from men with one of them being from a woman. Your nose wrinkled up when you saw that one of the men were in his 70s, and you quickly deleted his message without even reading it. The next one was in his early 50s, and his profile picture was of him standing in front of a car that looked like it cost more than the entirety of your college tuition. You didn’t delete his message, but you definitely felt dismayed as you skimmed through the rest of them.

You paused, though, when you saw the last one. His profile said that he was 38, making him the youngest of those that had replied to you. His username was Captain_Grant, and his profile only showed his silhouette outlined against a setting sun. The only thing you could see about his features were his defined, slightly-crooked nose and the shadow of a beard against his jawline, but you were more interested in seeing the message he’d sent you.

Good evening, miss. I hope you’re having a nice day. I saw on your profile that you liked to read?

You furrowed your eyebrows, laughing a little. The other ones had pretty much sent you the same thing – “hi”. One of them had had the courtesy of adding a smiley face afterwards, but the fact that this guy had actually taken the time to read your profile made him stand out amongst the rest.

Good evening, you typed back. I do love to read; right now I’m in the middle of a great book.

His reply came only about a minute after you sent your response.

What’s it called?

You typed out the title of the book. After another minute, Captain sent you a picture. You held your breath as you opened the attachment, praying that it wasn’t a dick pic, and you were pleasantly surprised to see a photo of a bookshelf. The book you’d mentioned was resting on it along with a few others by the same author.

I’m a fan of theirs, too, as you can see.

You grinned and got up, taking a quick photo of your own bookshelf and sending it to him. You’d bought it from IKEA years ago, and its thin shelves had started to sag under the weight of all of your books, but you loved it anyways.

You have quite the collection, miss.

You chuckled at how polite he was and sent him a message that he call you by your first name.

‘Miss’ just seems so formal, don’t you think?

I was going more for polite, but I see what you mean. Well, then, you should call me Steve. ‘Captain’ isn’t really formal so much as it’s just weird. …I’ve been told I’m not good at picking out profile names.

You giggled at that; Steve seemed like a dork. But a cute one.

I think your profile name is great, for the record, but I’ll stick with Steve. What made you join this website, Steve?

It took him a few minutes to respond, and you worried for a second that you’d asked something too personal. But as you got ready for bed, you saw that he’d finally responded.

I’m an old fashioned kinda guy, and in the past I’ve been told that I’m a bit too…overbearing in a relationship. But I’ve always believed that a man should take care of the woman he’s with. So a friend of mine suggested this site, and I figured I would try it out. You’re the first girl who I liked enough to send a message to, though.

You smiled at that, feeling warmth bloom in your chest.

What made me different from the rest?

All the other girls on here only talked about what they wanted to get out of a relationship in their profiles. You were the only one who mentioned what she wanted to give.

You felt as if butterflies were flying around your stomach, and your thumbs started typing of their own accord.

Do you think we could meet sometime? Maybe grab a cup of coffee?

I would love to, doll. I’m out of the country right now, but I get back in a week. How about we meet up then? Your profile said you live in Brooklyn; is that right?

It sure is; I’ve lived here ever since I finished college.

You’re a girl after my own heart; I grew up in Brooklyn. There’s a bagel shop that also serves coffee that I highly recommend. We could meet there if you’re up for it.

You didn’t even think before you answered him back.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

________

Over the next three days, you and Steve messaged each other as much as possible. He was so easy to talk to; you’d almost forgotten about the financial element of your relationship. During the day, when he was busy with work, you found yourself missing him. Right around the evening, you would start jumping for your phone any time it buzzed, and your heart would sink with disappointment when it wasn’t Steve.

You were on such a high from meeting Steve that you’d forgotten all about the things that were causing you anxiety. That was, until your landlord sent you an email talking about how rent was going to be raised an extra $50 each month. The news had washed over you like a bucket of iced water, sending you into the worst panic attack you’d had since college.

You’d spent the next few hours either pacing across your living room or crying in bed, curled up as that same feeling of helplessness that had haunted you for the past few months settled over you heavily. You hadn’t even realized that your phone was buzzing. At least, not until the fifth or sixth buzz. Wiping away your tears, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened it up, seeing several missed messages from Steve.

Hey, doll, just got done with work for the day.

How was your day?

You ok, doll? You’re usually around by now.

Are you ok?

I’m sorry for hovering, I’m just worried about you.

You there?

You felt guilt settle over you as you began to type with trembling fingers.

I’m so sorry, Steve. I just had a really rough day; I didn’t even realize that my phone was going off.

His reply was instantaneous.

God, you scared me, doll. Are you alright? What happened?

My landlord raised the rent by an entire $50. Rent is due by the end of the week, and I have no idea how to come up with the money.

You sniffled and waited for him to reply, and when he did you felt you felt your tears subside for a brief moment.

Is that all? That’s why I’m here, hon. Do you have a PayPal?

Steve… Are you sure? This is so much.

You could almost hear his laughter in his next reply.

Doll, I promise that $50 is NOT a lot to me. Besides, that’s part of this whole thing, isn’t it? Me taking care of you?

But I haven’t done anything for you in return…

He waited a few more minutes before responding.

Well… What if you did something for me tonight? Would that make you feel better?

Your felt your heart start to beat faster at his words, wondering what he would have you do.

What do you have in mind? you replied, trying to keep your words neutral.

Give me your phone number and let me call you?

Your breath puffed out at such a simple response, and you sent him your number without a second thought.

A few seconds later, your phone began to came, and unknown number appearing on your screen. You took a deep breath, feeling your heartrate skyrocket once more; you’d only known him for a few days, and yet a simple phone call from him was enough to make you feel breathless.

You fumbled with your phone, accepting the call and hesitantly raising it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, doll. It’s Steve. Although… Well, that was probably obvious, right?”

Your laugh sounded more like a hiccup, and you cringed at the sound, trying to blink away the tears that were still trying to escape.

“Hi, Steve,” was all you could sigh. “It’s…really good to hear your voice.”

And it really was; it was somehow even better than you’d imagined it – not terribly deep, but warm, so warm that you wish you could curl up and get him to read bedtime stories to you.

“Have you been crying?” he asked, a touch of worry working its way into his voice.

“Oh, um… Yeah,” you sighed. “This whole rent thing has really got me anxious.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he replied. “Can you give me your email address?”

You gave it to him, hearing the typing of a keyboard in the background.

“Thanks, doll. Just give me a minute, ok? I’m still trying to get better with my typing skills.”

You chuckled, picturing him typing with his two pointer fingers, but you still didn’t understand what he was asking you to give him a minute with.

“What are you doing, Steve?” you asked.

“Just wait; I’m almost done.”

After a few more seconds of typing, you felt your phone buzz, and you pulled it away to see that it was an email from PayPal. Your eyes went wide as you opened it, audibly gasping when you saw the message waiting for you when you opened your account. You have $250 waiting to be accepted.

“Steve!” You heard his laugh from the other line, and for a second you were caught off guard; you immediately loved the sound more than you’d loved any other laugh you’d ever encountered.

“This is too much!” you cried out. “I only needed $50! Steve, I’m no mathematician, but you gave me two hundred more than that!”

Steve only laughed again.

“I won’t apologize for taking care of my girl,” he said, making your cheeks heat up at the term of endearment. “You deserve it; you’ve had a rough day. Go out and get a massage, or buy something nice for yourself. Do something that’ll relieve some stress.”

Your eyes went half-lidded for a second at the thought of a massage; you couldn’t remember the last massage you’d gotten. But no; you needed to be smart with your money.

“Well… Thank you, Steve,” you sighed. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Every penny is worth getting to hear your voice,” he murmured. “It’s even prettier than I imagined it.”

“Steve…no…”

“No?”

“You gotta stop saying such nice things. It’s bad enough through text; actually hearing you say them is gonna make me spontaneously combust.”

Steve’s laughed rumbled across the receiver once more.

“Well try your best not to. At least not until we meet face-to-face.”

“Tell me about it. I still don’t know what you look like.”

You could tell by his voice that Steve was smiling when he spoke next.

“What do you imagine I look like?”

You grinned and stretched out in bed, your anxiety from before completely melting away.

“Well… You’re probably tall,” you started. “No… You’re definitely tall. I can tell.”

“Really? What gave it away?”

“You just seem like a tall person.” He chuckled at that, but you kept going on. “I could tell from your profile picture that you have a beard, and I bet you keep it trimmed all nice and neat. And… I’m going to guess that you have brown hair.”

“Well, I’ll be back in three days. There’s only one way for you to find out if you’re right.”

“I know. Still planning on the bagel shop at 9 am sharp, right? On Sunday?”

“Absolutely, doll. It’s a date.”

_______

The next day, you were able to pay your rent early, much to your landlord’s delight. After that, you decided that you would treat yourself to some actual groceries. Having a full shopping cart was a novelty to you; usually, you would load up with a basket containing ramen, maybe some chicken, some eggs, and whatever toiletries you needed. But today, you actually put together a meal plan and a list before going shopping.

Later on that day, you were grinning ear to ear as you put your purchases away in your tiny kitchen. There were green things in your fridge again! And they weren’t mold!

You were cooking a late breakfast for yourself when your phone rang, and you let out an excited squeak when you saw who it was.

“Steve!”

“Wow; someone sounds happy today.”

“I just got back from the grocery store,” you told him. “Thanks to a very wonderful, generous person, I was able to get food! Like, fancy food!”

“Fancy food, huh? What kind of fancy food?”

“Um… Well, I got stuff for salads! And I’m going to make a casserole for dinner. And I have some pasta, some beef, some taco stuff-“

“…Baby, that doesn’t really sound like fancy food. It sounds like regular groceries.”

“Well, it’s fancy compared to what I usually eat,” you pointed out.

“And what is that?”

“…Um…Ramen, mostly. Not that I mind! It’s better than nothing. I’ve got really creative with ramen recipes; it’s a skill I learned in college.”

Steve let out an exasperated sigh.

“That’s gonna have to change,” he asserted. “From now on, I’ll take you grocery shopping once a week, and I want you to get food with actual nutrients in it. Understood?”

You grinned as you flipped the omelet in the pan.

“Only if you let me cook for you sometime,” you bargained. You felt your cheeks heat up when he let out a groan.

“God, I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal,” he sighed. “I wish I could come back sooner.”

“You can make it for two more days,” you said. “I believe in you.”

“Well, I’m glad someone does.”

The two of you talked until your breakfast was ready, and for the rest of the day you worked on applying for jobs. You kept the news on your tv at a low volume, but later on, while you were cooking your casserole, you heard something about Moscow that made you perk up; Steve had mentioned that he was in Moscow on his business trip.

You hurried to pull the casserole out of the oven and place it on a cooling rack before jogging into the living room and turning up the volume.

“….in Moscow today. It is reported that the small terrorist organization was eliminated by Captain America, Natasha Romanoff, and a group of American agents with them. Luckily, the attempted bombing was stopped before there could be any casualties.”

You watched as the footage cut to Captain America standing in front of a group of reporters, decked out in his uniform with his signature shield strapped to his back. He shifted on his feet, looking out over the room before starting to speak.

“I’m relieved to inform you that the terrorist threat has been eliminated,” he began, and you frowned at how familiar his voice sounded. If you didn’t know any better, then you would think that it was Steve talking to you, your Steve, but you knew the idea was ridiculous. You smiled at the thought; you’d have to ask him later on if anybody else had noticed the similarity.

“The group was small and disorganized, and we believe that they acted independently of any larger organization,” he continued. “Our men and woman, however, are keeping a close eye on any and all other suspicious activity in this and the surrounding countries. For now, we advise you to rest easy, and-“

You muted the tv once more, heading into the kitchen to grab a plate of food. You sat down on your couch and pulled your phone out, dialing Steve’s number. You frowned when you reached his answering machine, but you left a message anyways.

“Hi, Steve! I just saw something on the news about a terrorist group in Moscow… I guess I just wanted to call and make sure you were okay. Just shoot me a text or give me a call when you’re able to. I’ll talk to you soon!”

After that, you ate your food, reveling in having something on your stomach other than the same old noodles. It was while you were wrapping your casserole to put in in the fridge that Steve called you back, and you rushed to answer the phone.

“Hello!”

“Hi, doll,” Steve sighed.

“You sound so tired.”

“Yeah… I guess I am. It was, uh… A rough day at work. But the good news is that I get to come home a day early. Think we could move our date to tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? You can get here all the way from Moscow tonight?”

“Sure can. I’m on the plane right now.”

“Wow. Talk about company benefits…” Steve chuckled, and you smiled fondly as you closed the fridge. “I worried about you when I heard about the terrorists. Is everything ok? No one you knew got hurt, did they?”

“Nah, we’re fine, doll. But you’re sweet to ask.”

“Well, I saw Captain America talking on the news about it and just wanted to make sure. Hey, have you ever noticed that you sound a lot like him?”

“Uh… You think I sound like Captain America?” Steve seemed flustered, and you grinned as you walked back to your couch.

“Yeah; you guys have practically the same voice,” you grinned. “Crazy coincidence, right? You sound like him; you have the same first name… And did you know that he’s grown a beard since-“

“Hey, doll? The plane is experiencing some turbulence. Would it be ok if I let you go?”

“Oh. Yeah! Sure thing, Steve. But we’re still planning on tomorrow morning?”

“You betcha. I’ll see you at 9, and I’ll text you the address.”

“See you soon!”

With that, he hung up, and a few minutes later you received the text with the address. You sent him back a smiley face before getting ready for bed; you would need to get up early to get ready for your date.

It took you a while to fall asleep that night; your mind wouldn’t shut off. Over and over again, it would play possible scenarios of how meeting Steve might go – about what he would look like, what you two would talk about. Eventually, though, you were able to fall into a peaceful slumber, and even your dreams seemed happy that night.

______

You surveyed yourself in the mirror, looking for any imperfections that needed to be sorted out before you left. You’d somehow wrangled your hair into a nice-looking style, although you were pretty sure you’d killed half of the remaining ozone layer with how much hair spray you’d had to use to keep it that way. You were wearing a red set of leggings with an oversized, cream-colored sweater overtop it; despite the fact that the clothes were old, they still looked good, and you hated the fact that you didn’t have better shoes to complete the ensemble. You pulled on your black high-top Converse, deciding that they were the best looking pair of shoes you had, and you checked yourself out in the mirror one more time before walking out the door.

The bagel shop was only fifteen minutes away from where you lived, but the drive seemed to last for fifteen seconds and fifteen eternities all at once. You tried in vain to calm the frantic beating of your heart, but it was still pounding by the time you pulled up in front of the restaurant. You took a short moment to calm yourself, letting out a deep breath before getting out of your car.

You tried to walk with confidence as you walked into the bagel shop, inhaling the scent of baked bread, cinnamon, and coffee that lay heavy in the air. The walls inside were painted a bright, sky blue, and black-and-white sketches were hanging on the walls. The entire wall behind the display case had been turned into a chalkboard, and the various menu items were written across it in neat cursive font. One of your favorite songs from the 60’s was playing over the radio, and you smiled; you already knew that this place would become one of your regular hang outs.

At the moment, though, your eyes were scanning the shop for Steve. All you knew about him was that he had a beard; that is, if he hadn’t shaved it since taking his profile picture. There were only a few people dotted around the room, and most of them were with someone else. In fact, there were only two people there who were sitting alone. One of them was sitting at a nearby table, and he was a man who looked to be in his late 50’s; you hoped to God that he wasn’t Steve.

The only other person there was sitting at a table in the far corner, and he had his back to you. His hair was blonde and slicked back neatly, and his shoulders were incredibly broad. Letting out a sigh, you started walking towards him, wringing your hands as you grew nearer.

“Steve?” you finally asked when you were close, and you saw him straighten up.

When he turned around to face you, though, your eyes grew wide and your lips parted in surprise. There had to be some mistake; this couldn’t be him.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “I’m here to meet, um…”

Captain America, or rather, Steve gave you a soft, sheepish smile, and he stood up to face you.

“Hey, doll,” he sighed.

“…I can explain.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #dark!steve rogers imagine #sugar daddy!steve #sugar daddy!steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader

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life-rewritten · 3 years

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SPOOKY SEASON! An ode to Mo Dao Zu Shi: one of the best BL story created!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!! One last Halloween post and it's about one of my favourite pieces of media in the world of BL, romance, and supernatural stories. Roll your eyes because once again I'm talking about Mo Dao Zu Shi (The grandmaster of demonic cultivation) I mean already with the demons, and cultivation is already hinting why this is Halloween themed, and trust me MDZ has much more than that: from zombies to ghosts, to magical instruments and weapons, and we love our fantasy cultivation sects and clans. Anyhoo, I am here to write a fun post another verdict/review on each of the adaptations available so far for MDZ, yeh you heard me I've listened, read and watched all versions of this masterpiece, and I'm here to tell you to go and do the same for Halloween. Also in case, you haven't heard MTX (the author of MDZ) has another show on its way TODAY! And that's the magnificent, the excellent and incredible Heaven's Official Blessing after marathoning MDZ do that too.

As always with my verdicts: we have ratings: From 1 to 5 (1 being least excited to watch, 5 being most,) how excited am I to delve into these again?

Country: China Genre: Danmei, Supernatural, Action, Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, BL, Horror,

1.The Book

We begin with the one that started it all. The reason for my devotion and love for this world, for Wei Wuxian and Lan Wang Ji. My heart hasn't stopped loving this book experience. And at first, it wasn't easy to understand all the logic and terms needed to know for this world of cultivation and sects and clans, and magical skills. But once I got the hang of it (maybe after reading it three times I wonder how I had time to do this by the way), this is a book that I keep on returning to, crying to, and just breaking down into a mess too. This book is the most original source for the love story of Wangxian and to be honest its a masterpiece. Now onto the pros and cons, I guess about this adaptation.

Pro:

First, I would say that this is the most non censored version of MDZ, meaning China couldn't mute the romance or delete scenes because it's the original written story. The romance between Wangxian stands out and makes your heart go through a lot of emotions, from frustration at Wei Wuxian not realising how he feels for Wang Ji, to pain because of Wang Ji's perceived unrequited feelings for so long, to happiness when they're just together, to confusion at some drunk scenes and then to all-out shock as the story reveals its self to the villains, the background of Weiying's death and more.

The introduction to all these characters, all of them have a role in the story, all of them are important to keep an eye on, and they all grow and develop throughout the story as we find out more about their circumstances and their own perspective on Wei Wuxian.

Cons but not actual cons

The book is longggggg. The first time I read it I wondered when we would finally get a resolution or hint that Wei Wuxian finally understands what he's been feeling for sooo long, but it took forever and to be honest even though this is a con to me, it also is a positive for those who love slowwwww burns, and slow reveal to the background and development of Wangxians feelings for each other. There are many missions although essential to the world-building and the actual plot/mystery that at first seem so useless and not needed, but they are there for a purpose, and they do help us find out more clues about what's been going on and why Wei Wuxian was brought back from the dead.

The book is the most non censored version of MDZ, and so there are many questionable moments/questions about Non-consent that occur during moments when Wangxian are drunk. Honestly, these scenes are so weird to me, because they hold so much truth and revelations to Wangji's feelings for Weiying. After all, he's drunk and the most authentic version of himself. There are so many moments (like stealing chickens or showing him the bunnies) that make you just want to cry at his love Weiying and the pain he had to endure when he thought he was never coming back. Still, at the same time, there are many moments where you're like oh wow that escalated, and you feel just a tad discomfort at the idea of the non-con. But like I said these scenes are required for these two to really like give into what they've both been trying to push away or ignore, and it's nice to see how Weiying reacts to his feelings becoming uncontrollable and more prominent.

There are some moments in the book where things seem vague or unexplained (which the other sources did their own thing with), some characters who are mentioned but not really given enough detail, some plot details where it's not fully understood. However, I do think that because the book is already so long, the most critical information needed was there and the reveal of the mysteries were all done well. I think though that it's better to see how it materialises visually hence the other media adaptations.

Ratings: 4/5 -It's not easy to pick up the book and read, but I have so much fun returning to it and laughing along with Wei Wuxian's thoughts and ideas about Wang Ji.

2.The Manhua

I was so shook when I found out MDZ has a manhua. Mostly because China wouldn't really make it easy for the book adaptation to be honestly portrayed visually. But the manga shocked me, it is censored, but the writers and the artists are all so obsessed with this book and this couple that despite having to remove or edit some scenes, they draw some additional scenes and post it online so that international fans can still get to see these moments visually. That is incredible, and I'm so grateful that we have a team of people who respect and love the piece as much as the fans do.

Pros:

With any graphic novel/manga the art of MDZ is fantastic to see, the characters are brought to life with colour and also the inclusion of chibi drawings to make a moment incredibly cute or funny. Weiying is very naughty, so a chibi drawing of him makes us see him like how he's acting a child. I enjoy the manhua of MDZ so much, and I love how they drew each of the characters and the world.

Cons but not really cons:

I think, however, there are better visual sources for MDZ available that is more detailed in terms of characters and includes more information about the world-building. The plot also has to be condensed as well because you can't draw everything from the book. The manhua is also still in the works so, its a very slow upload and it will take years for it to be completed. But this is understandable, and I can't wait to read the full completed copy. If you hate reading and can't stand words, I think the manhua version is for you!

Ratings: 3.5/5 -It’s the waiting that lowered the ratings for me and the fact that I prefer other sources but I’m so grateful for the manhua.

3.The Show

The one that brought international fans like swarms to this story. Untamed shocked all of us in the BL community as the first time we heard about it, sure it was nice to see that Yibo was cast as Wang Ji, but even then his acting wasn't that profound or praised so we didn't care, and Zhan also seemed like an interesting choice for out Weiying. I think there were an outrage and confusion when we heard this was going to be censored and a bromance. It felt like it made no sense because there's no way really to edit the relationship and love of Wangxian, so people went into the show resentful and worried. But after 20 episodes, the anger, worry and upset were erased. Untamed is a masterpiece, and it blows my mind how censored it is but still not really censored? It deletes the questionable moments in the book but adds the essential parts even where we get to see Wang Ji's feelings (Though obviously not mentioned as feelings but respect). We get to watch Weiying realise how much he cherishes whatever he has with Wang Ji and how much he misunderstood the latter, and how much Wang Ji cared for him. The show as Netflix says is not about just friends. Still, it emphasises the connection between these two using subtext clues and symbolisms, and visual metaphors to make sure the audience knows that these two are soulmates and are meant for each other. Here are the other pros and cons of the show:

Pros:

The acting is incredible, like so good and I can't think of two people who were more suited for Wangxian, Yibo shocked me as Wang Ji because although I knew him (because of Kpop), I didn't really think he would pull of stoic but still vulnerable Wang Ji. He was good at showing the emotions of love and longing that has been connected with Wang Ji. Zhan was an excellent Wuxian, he made me smile, he made laugh, he made me so happy because of his mischievous aura, but he also played serious and emotional and resentful Wuxian well as well. I keep crying every time I see the death scene in the show because it's just so done well.The directors and producers who didn't care about hiding the relationship between these two, they still wanted to be respectful to the writer and the source, and they still wanted to show as much as possible that these two loved each other. For that, I'm so grateful and they did a brilliant job with what they could. The character arcs and development and depth; Its the way they took the other characters from the book and fleshed them out giving each of them more depth, more understanding, more dimensionality and more story connecting to our plot, and it broke my heart how much I loved everyone in this show. The actors all performed so well, and some gave me goosebumps at how well they portrayed their characters (Xue Yang!!) like stunning and just a great cast.The storyline was also written in an innovative way, the flashbacks were first shown to the audience, how Wangxian became Wangxian and so the audience felt every single hurt and pain that Wang Ji was feeling. We understood why he acted the way he did. The flashbacks also provided plot structure to the mystery and the actual plot of the show, it left clues, and we watched the villains become villains (secretly), we saw how some characters grew. Each of the arcs in the book was told in a way that it flowed together and made sense. Due to this way of structuring the plot the show became so much more profound in the way it messed with our emotions, every death mattered, and every character had their own story and importance to the audience.

Cons:

The censorship. I've praised how they overcame it, but it's still there, the ending of the show was done this way because of censorship and to be honest I still think everyone should read the book because there are moments where the romance of Wangxian is fun and memorable to see (the confession scene whilst it was done okay in the show because of censorship it doesn't hold as much oomph as it did in the book. Mainly because the events that happened before it was already so filled with angst and drama and the results of the confession Wangxian clinging onto each other despite being in danger is a must-see, the censorship is annoying because it shouldn't be there, it's something that whilst it did help with some stuff, it still feels like an insult to the piece, and it still doesn't sit well with me that China censors their BL. So its a con.

Ratings 5/5 I think I could spend so much time breaking down why Untamed is a masterpiece BL show, but all I can say is despite 50 episodes (longgg) it is worth the time and effort and if you watch BL, go see it.

4.The Audio

The audio for the MDZ is like my favourite thing in the world. I love Chinese audiobook dramas; it's an incredible experience to listen to. With MDZ, this is what the show would be if it wasn't censored. The actors for the audio drama are amazing, and I love them so much. The audio drama is three seasons with some extra scenes and it's incredible if you don't want to read the book, then just watch and listen to the audio drama because its the same story but its brought to life by the acting and storytelling. Also though there are some scenes removed, I think the audio drama is the next uncensored gem of MDZ that shows Wangxian's romance the best way possible. I squeal, and I laugh, and again I cry at every single moment; their first kiss, the inn scene, the confession (i spend time pausing it just to cry at how good it is) and more. I just love it, and I prefer it to reading the book. Other pros and cons:

Pros:

The story is structured and told properly, follows all the arcs and events in the book and brings them life by voice acting, and the music is incredible. It's nice to listen to and hear Weiying's thoughts and to also listen to an audible version of the book. The audio drama has all the pros from the book as well.

Cons:

Nothing much to say about the cons. It is not easy to attain the audio drama in English subs, its hard to download and store it, but once you overcome that it's great. I think the audio drama is the most difficult to obtain.

Ratings: My favourite adaptation 5/5

5.The Donghua

Lastly, we have the Donghua or the anime version of MDZ. What can I say about this, its brilliant, masterpiece, it's gorgeous. If you think the art for the manhua is good, the donghua takes it to a different level. The visuals are stunning, the animation is breath-taking, and the story is again following Untamed ways of censoring the story but making sure it doesn't remove the romantic connotations and symbolism to Wangxian. The donghua also follows Untameds way of starting with flashbacks to explain what happened to Weiying before it started. I have nothing else to say about how great this is. It's the same thing I've been saying about all these adaptations. The donghua though is the best visual masterpiece for MDZ, in my opinion.

Pros;

Packed full with symbolism and clues to the plot, it's detailed so well for the storyline and its an excellent way to tell this story. The music and ost for the donghua are also beautiful and gets me emotional each time I hear it.

Cons:

Censorship. That's it, that's what it always is. For me, I think the donghua is the most censored version of MDZ? Or maybe I just feel that way despite the subtext clues; I do feel irritated at the censorship in the donghua. Let's pray Heaven's official blessing overcomes that.

Ratings: 3.8/5 - I love it so much because of the visuals but apart from that I prefer other sources for MDZ. Still the best donghua that exists.

So here you have in an in-depth and messy conversation about one of my favourite media pieces to existing right now in BL. I think I will never stop singing praises at MXT for creating this story and I think there's nothing else I rather do than just spend times when I need a distraction watching, listening or reading this story again and again. What about you all. What do you feel about MDZ? What pros and cons do you have for each adaptation? Which is your favourite. And have you been able to get any rest when we know that Heaven's official blessing is out TODAY!! Let me know your thoughts. Happy Halloween, Enjoy it.

#mo dao zu shi #the untamed #mdzs #wrpup #FVete #october #halloween #wei ying #wei wuxain #lan wangji #mdzs donghua #wwx #lwj #chen qing ling #cql #bl series #danmei

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rachelbethhines · 4 years

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Tangled Salt Marathon - Lost and Found

Another plot episode and another mountain of missed opportunities, failed set ups, and foreshadowing that goes nowhere. But outside of that it’s pretty entertaining. Are we seeing a pattern yet?

Summary: Rapunzel and Eugene go on a journey to retrieve the fourth and final piece of the scroll that will lead them to the Dark Kingdom. They receive help from Vigor the Visionary, who reveals himself to be Lord Demanitus himself, the author of the scroll depicting the purpose of the Sundrop and Moonstone. He leads them to the maze that he hid the last piece of the scroll in. Guiding them through the maze, they obtain the last piece, which united the four into one singular map. As they are about to leave, they are attacked by a stone monster.

Maybe That’s Why You Should Have Brought the Only Person Who Can Read It Along?!

Once again, having the characters acknowledge their stupidity in meta dialogue doesn’t alleviate the fact that the audience is going to think them stupid.

Regardless of your personal feelings towards Varian or what he has done in the past that does not change the fact that he is literally the only character in the show thus far who can translate the scroll. The mains knew that before leaving and they knew from the get go that they were going to need the scroll piece which is why they took it from him.

Not bringing him along, not getting a translation key from him before leaving, nor even showing us a scene of Raps trying to ask him to translate the scroll for them before leaving and then having him refuse to do so, is a plot hole.

Timeline Hint...Sort Of...

Rapunzel said last episode that it had been almost year since they left Corona, and it’s now close enough to her birthday again that Eugene could be tricked by it but not enough to actually be her birthday.

So...when are we again?

I’m going to guess 10 months after Secret of the Sun Drop? Maybe... It could also be 9 or 11 who knows... but I am still seeing fall like trees which is our only indication of a changing season in this show because the creators don’t understand climate apparently.

Maybe cause we’re now further north of Corona we see fall/winter leaves even into early spring?

Where Was This Rapunzel In Season 3?

Rapunzel actually giving a crap about what Eugene wants is as rare as seeing a fawn in the woods. It happens, but most of the time you forget it's even there.

While come season three, Rapunzel will just shoot the poor deer dead.

Madame Canardist is a Wasted Character

I’ve already discussed at length the biggest problems with Madame Carnardist in my Vigor the Visionary and Curses reviews. So I won’t rehash those talking points here again. However what I spoke about were larger problems with the media industry and bigotry as a whole and not the specific impact the character has on the story. Which is next to none.

The crew went through all of this trouble to make a deleted character from the film relevant to the series’s plot, and even there they failed. Madame Canardist is nothing more than a translator for Vigor when Demantius isn’t around. The story doesn’t utilize her properly despite her connections to one of the more plot important characters.

What is her relationship to Demantius and Zhan Tiri? How did Vigor come into her care? Why is she the only person who understands him when Demantius isn’t in control? If Vigor is centuries old by this point than how old is she? What is her stake in all this and why does she bother with Rapunzel at all if she has nothing to gain from it? Why doesn’t she go along on this important quest through the maze seeing as how she is Vigor’s caretaker?

She’s not completely useless, but like with Lady Caine, Xavier, and Hector before her, she has far more potential than the series is willing to explore with her.

So Much For Caring About What Eugene Wants

Welp that lasted all of five seconds.

Man, Rapunzel is a shit girlfriend.

The Pay Off Works, But It Then Serves No Purpose Afterwards

I don’t mind the idea of Demantius being the monkey. I mean it is one of the very few plot points in the show with proper foreshadowing and follow through. And yes, Demantius does accomplish one thing here, by helping Raps obtain the last scroll piece.

The problem is, nothing changes with this revelation.

No one’s perceptions or interactions with Demantius/Vigor are altered after this reveal. No one changes their plans, goals, or motivations afterwards. Things carry on more or less afterwards the same as if they had never met. The only thing of importance here is the scroll pecice and that’s only relevant in Cassandra's Revenge and is then forgotten about completely for the rest of the series.

What’s the point of having a plot twist if the status quo still remains?

If the information being revealed doesn’t alter the story then why keep it secret to begin with?

How Could You Research Them If You Never Found Them?

So did Demantius write the incantations or not?

He is the one who put them on the scroll, so it’s natural to conclude that he did create them, but he couldn’t have done that unless he had studied both the moonstone and sundrop to see the effects the two macguffins had to the spells.

Now according to this exposition dump, the sundrop and moonstone had been around for ages before Demantius and had become legends by his time. It is possible that someone else studied the two macguffins before him and came up with those incantations, but who?

The ancient people of the Dark Kingdom might have studied the moonstone since they were tasked with guarding it, but no one knew where the sundrop was until Gothel found it.

The audience needs to know this sort of information in order to understand the motivations driving the conflicts of the characters.

Imagine a Lord of the Rings trilogy that never bothered to say where the one ring of power came from or how it came into Gollum’s possession. You’d be left wondering why everyone was fighting over what amounts to an invisibility spell that once belonged to a small deformed hobbit who used to catch fish.

This Explanation Goes Nowhere

Why did the disciples betray Demantius? What did they gain from siding with Zhan Tiri? Why was Gothel with them? Did she betray everyone once she found the sundrop? What was Demantius and Zhan Tiri fighting over to begin with?

Don’t expect any of those questions to be answered. The series inexplicably makes a big deal over Gothel being connected to Zhan Tiri, but then never actually explains what that connection is, what they’re relationship dynamic was, nor how it connects back to Rapunzel’s and Cassandra’s current conflict.

That’s the real failing of the show’s lore and backstories. They don’t connect back to the current conflict. It’s just there.

In a well constructed show, Demantius would have been a parallel to Rapunzel who was also ‘betrayed’ by people she trusted. It would have been revealed that it was Demantius’ own actions that drove away his followers and caused them to side with Zhan Tiri. Thereby serving as a warning to Rapunzel herself and forcing her to realize in the end that in order to save everyone she’s have to apologize to those she hurt. We also would have gotten three betrayals instead of two since that’s more thematically impactful.

But this isn’t a well constructed show and the characters in it don’t ever evolve.

This Contradicts What We Find Out In Season 3

We find out in the last season that Zhan Tiri was originally from this world and that the only reason she was ‘bent on destruction’ was because of Demantius ticked her off somehow. She also had no magical powers of her own until after Demantius had banished her to that other realm where she was imprisoned.

Also Demantius didn’t use any powers. He just chucked her into a portal he had built without any warning or trail, with zero idea if it would kill her or not, all because she just stood there yelling at him. Like there wasn’t even any physical fighting, so it wasn’t a case of in defense either.

Demantius should have been revealed to be the real antagonist all along but that would require the showrunners to be actually clever for once and not misogynistic towards their female characters.

This Makes Zero Sense

First off, when was Zhan Tiri ever looking for Demantius? She’s been too busy trying to escape from her prison and it’s been centuries. She has no reason to suspect that he’s still alive nor does she care. Zhan Tiri’s plans are not dependant upon whether or not Demantius still exists.

Secondly, how is the host body still alive after centuries? Why go with monkey when I’m sure there are actual human beings out there who would agree to living forever. Does the transfer actually destroy the mind? Cause if not you could have had an actual coherent host that could have helped out when Demantius was dormant.

And don't give me any guff about ‘ethics’ because this is the man who played judge, jury, and executioner to his supposed friend/possible lover and probably killed one of his disciples as Sugarbee’s spirit was trapped in his device.

Not the Best of Plans My Dude

So Demantius is basically committing suicide here for no real reason.

Unless he was just already dying anyways when he made the transfer, then Demantius is drastically shortening his conscious life span. The monkey will live on, but he won’t.

So why? He had no way of knowing that the sundrop would become a person in the future, it’s completely coincidental that he met Rapunzel just at the right place and time to help her, and as stated above, Zhan Tiri was no longer a threat to him or the world since he imprisoned her and defeated his disciples.

Like what was his thought process here? “I just really, really want to be a monkey?”

Eugene Isn't Wrong

Look, I am a deeply religious person and I have faith in many things, but even I know that critical thought is necessary for basic survival and that scepticism is just plain common sense. Believing in something doesn’t mean shutting your brain off and never thinking for yourself.

Demantius has yet to give any reason for why Eugene and Rapunzel should trust him. Him saying ‘have faith’ repeatedly does nothing to instill confidence and in fact does the opposite. If you want to people to believe in you, especially in a dangerous situation that you dragged them into, then you need to earn that trust.

There’s a world of difference in assuming the best in people and being a fool, and Rapunzel is not the better person just because she blindly goes along with anything because she stubbornly wants to do whatever she wants and assumes she’s always right.

Eugene is Still Right

Is ‘Faith’ the new ‘Destiny’ now? Are we just assigning different meanings to random words in order to push the story’s narrative along?

This entire maze only involves solving puzzles, answering riddles, and a bit of running and climbing here and there. ‘Faith’ has absolutely nothing to do with it.

This theme doesn’t even work when you take into account the reveal that it’s Eugene who needs to have faith in Rapunzel. Because Rapunzel isn’t the only one doing these things and getting them through here.

In fact Demantius being here, and being the one who built the maze in the first place, kind of negates Rapunzel’s importance in this area. Secondly, Eugene is doing half the work anyways so it should be a message about having faith in each other. But they already have that so...yeah what’s the point of Demantius constantly bringing it up?

Why Are You Caring About Money While Stuck In a Death Trap?

You’re rich now, Eugene. You’re the future prince consort and live in a palace. As soon as you get back to Corona or a place that recognizes Corona as a kingdom you’ll have plenty of money to spare. But you can’t do that if you’re dead inside a maze.

Moreover, Rapunzel still has money on her. She just threw two coins in to the well; one for her and one for Demantius. You two live together! You’ve been traveling inside a caravan together for over a year now and neither of you work. Ergo, you should logically be sharing your finances at this point in time. Especially since that is what you’ll be doing anyways once you’re married for real, as you’ll both be heads of state.

That’s Now How Faith Works

Faith is evidence for things unseen, or to put it more accurately the evidence for things that are unprovable. God, death, the future, creation, souls, the meaning of life, ect, are all concepts that can’t be proven nor disproven. No one upon this earth will ever know for certain what happens after death, how the universe was made, or if there is any intelligent life out there beyond ourselves.

People don’t like the unknowable.

Believe systems of all kinds, whether they be religious or not, exist to bring us comfort when face with the dread of such existential questions. Even if that belief system is agnosticism itself.

Gravity, weight, and basic physics however are all provable concepts that have been around since Ancient Greece, if not longer. Man has always known that if you drop something it falls, even if they didn’t have the math to back it. It’s just a fact of life.

‘Faith’ isn’t going to stop Eugene from falling. It’s not going to make the bridge more sturdy. It’s not going to magically make him as light as a feather. It won’t turn the acid below him into water. “Faith’ can’t literally give you wings and make you fly; that’s just a metaphor.

What Demantius is promoting here isn’t faith. What he’s asking Eugene to do is to blindly follow his orders without question.

This is especially jarring when you consider that Demantius is supposed to be a famous scientist. He should know very well the importance of critical thought and that having faith doesn’t mean shutting your brain off.

The Scroll is Such a Let Down

We’ve spent a season and a half finding the pieces for this thing and it won't actually be relevant until the halfway through season three. Mostly because the one person who can translate it isn’t here.

On top of that, it’s no longer important outside of one episode. It’s an example of the payoff not living up to its hype.

So This Is a Lie

The scroll only contains four incantations on it, and one is on the back in invisible ink and not the fourth pecice itself. None of those incantations involve combining the moontsone and sundrop together. In fact, after using two of those incantations only once they’re never seen being used again for the rest of the series. Furthermore, once the moonstone and sundrop are combined they only allow the user to perform the healing and hurt incantations, which Rapunzel can do anyways without the moonstone.

Demantius wrote the dang scroll himself! He should very much know what is on it and what it does. This is yet another case of the writers not planning things ahead.

Being Good at Riddles Doesn’t Make You ‘Pure of Heart’

Being ‘pure of heart’ means that you are kind. One does not need ‘faith’ to be kind. Being kind is doing the right thing and helping others even if it doesn’t benefit you at all.

Not only does running through a maze not have anything to do with faith, it also has nothing to do with kindness.

The only thing it proves is that Rapunzel enjoys running through a maze, and will do so in addition to dragging others along with her regardless if those people want to do it or not.

That’s not being kind.

If anything Rapunzel has only proven thus far in the series that she is a very selfish person who shouldn’t be trusted with such grave responsibility.

But as already pointed out, Demantius doesn’t care about actual faith, kindness, or purity. He just wants blind obedience. He’s mistaken Rapunzel’s exuberant and stubborn nature for nativity; not realizing that her complancany is only because they both desire the same goal.

Had he asked Rapunzel to do something that she didn’t already want to do, she wouldn’t have been so ‘pure’ to his mind.

That Is a Very Valid Question

Eugene has a point. There’s no reason to go on this quest. In fact knowing about season three in hindsight, turning around now and not going to the Dark Kingdom would be the better option for everyone.

Cass couldn’t steal the moonstone. Zhan Tiri would never be freed. Corona will never be destroyed and the brotherhood never mind trapped. As for the black rocks they will just sit there impotently not doing anything.

Even freeing Quirin, not that Rapunzel cares, only requires the hurt incantation, which she already has.

The only problem is that Cassandra has ZT trapped in her mind but without the moonstone that has no consequences outside of Cass hearing a annoying voice in her head that she is perfectly capable of ignoring. And even that wouldn’t have happen if they had turned around after the Great Tree.

SHOW DON'T TELL

Nothing in the show back up what Demantius is saying here. We haven’t seen the rocks being active since season one. Even when Rapunzel was lollygagging around or going off the path.

When they do become active again in the next episode it’s to help her, and after that in season three it’s all Cassandra’s doing.

Also in season three Rapunzel is able to rebuild Old Corona around the rocks with little problem even though she didn’t reunite with the moonstone.

In a Competent Show This Would Be Foreshadowing. This Is Not a Competent Show.

I genuinely thought this was hinting at Moon Eugene, when I first saw this. Now couple that with the talk of ‘three betrayals’ earlier and I thought Eugene would be the final ‘betrayal’ and that a true love's kiss, after Rapunzel had apologized to him, is what would reunite the two powers and save the day.

I’m not going to fault the show for not living up to my expectations and predictions, but I will fault the series for failing to utilize Eugene properly and not working him into the main conflict. He’s the duel protagonist of the franchise. He should have just as much weight in the narrative the same as Rapunzel has.

Oh How I Hate Where This Arc Goes

What the show does wind up doing to Eugene however, is incredibly stupid and frustrating.

Remember how I said that ‘faith’ in this show is just blind obedience?

Yeaaaahhh....

That’s what Eugene takes from all of this. Not that he should support and believe in his partner, something that he already was doing by the way, but that he needs to be a doormat to her and her whims.

Like with Rapunzel yelling at Hook Hand in Brother’s Hook, this is the point where Eugene’s character starts to break. You just wouldn’t know it until after watching season three.

This Is Such a Lazy Cop-Out

Like the audience has these questions too. Neither us nor Rapunzel will ever have these questions answered. You just backed out of committing to any real answers because you didn’t have your story planned out like you should have.

Why Does Everyone Act Like There’s a Prophecy When There Isn’t Any Actual Prophecy?

Once again, Demantius had no way of knowing that the sundrop would become a person. No one did. There’s no prophecy and there’s zero explanation for his psychic abilities, which are inconsistent at best. In fact I don't think he does have such powers, otherwise he’d be more helpful inside the maze. I think those are reserved for Vigor only and we don’t know where he got them or if he even is a ‘real’ psychic.

Tangled the Series wants to act like it’s running on a predestination plot. That events must occur and will occur regardless of what actions you take to prevent it. Now ignoring how that causes problems with the characters’ agency for a moment; you can not have any predestination if there’s no actual destiny.

Chosen one plots often have prophecies for a reason. Predestination is there to evoke either tragedy that can’t be prevented or present consequences for if/when the main hero doesn’t follow along. Either way it’s there to establish conflict.

Everyone in TTS acts like there is a conflict when said conflict hasn’t actually been established!

This is writing 101. You need conflict. You need to establish shit. You can’t just pretend that a conflict exists where it doesn’t. ‘Fake till you make it’ doesn’t work in long term storytelling and television animation. It has to be pre-planned.

Also The Timeline Doesn’t Match

Demantius said that it was a millenia when the sundrop and moonstone fell.He also just said he’s been waiting for a millenia to ‘meet the sundrop’. Yet Demantius acted like the sundrop and the moonstone were already legends by the time he started to search for them. That means they had to be around longer than he has. It also brings us back to the first question of who wrote the incantations if he and Zhan Tiri never found them?

Believing In Someone Does Not Mean Shoving All the Work Onto Their Shoulders

You’re supposed to be in this together. Couples should work as a team. Both of your lives depend upon getting out of here so you should both be coming up with ideas and working together.

Not only does this miss the entire point of what ‘believing in your spouse’ actually means, it’s also incredibly unfair to both of these characters. It’s unfair to Rapunzel for put so much pressure and unrealistic expectations onto her and to have her be the person to carry both of them through when Eugene is perfectly capable of physically doing things. It’s also unfair to shove Eugene to the side and make him a useless character all of a sudden.

Rapunzel Does Nothing To Earn Such Blind Devotion

Rapunzel’s magical hair has nothing to do with Rapunzel as a person. It’s an entity separate from her being. Literally. The hair can move of its own accord as shown here and it’s possible to physically separate Rapunzel from her powers as seen in the finale.

Believing in Rapunzel should be about believing in who she is as a human being, about her individual character. It should not be because she has magic glowing hair.

Not only is this a betrayal of Rapunzel and Eugene’s relationship and why they came to love one another in the first place, but it’s also a betrayal of Rapunzel’s growth as a character. It’s not only Eugene who blindly kisses her ass after this point, it’s everyone, even though she gives them little reason too.

This the Last We’ll See of Vigor and Madame Canardist

Three episodes spent establishing these characters and now they’re just gone for no reason. They’re never seen of nor mentioned again beyond a single meta joke. Despite the main conflict revolving around Demantius and them both having the closest connection to that character.

This Is Bad Foreshadowing, But At Least It’s Actual Foreshadowing

Up till now any ‘foreshadowing’ we got for Cass’s villain arc has been confined to poorly thought out background images; the painting of the moon, the broken mirror in Gothel’s tower, and I won’t even dignify Chris’s bullshit about her handmaiden dress being blue.

Not to mention all of that was only in season one. Outside of her conversation with Eugene about their parents, way back in Cassandra vs. Eugene, we haven’t had any real foreshadowing until we hit the Great Tree.

Since the Great Tree we’ve only had a couple of bitch fights with Raps, which I personally don't consider real foreshadowing since no ill will was attached to those, and her glaring angrily at Rapunzel after escaping the shell house.

In light of that, this scene is at least genuine foreshadowing, it’s just poorly done foreshadowing.

While the other attempts at foreshadowing were too subtle, this one is too obvious. It gives the game away too early because there’s no other viable options within Rapunzel’s group. Adira comes closest and she’s not actually here and not really considered a friend by Rapunzel herself.

So what winds up happening is that Cass’s arc feels rushed despite being planned since the beginning.

Conclusion

I spent three days fighting tumblr to get this review posted! Appreciate it!

As for the episode itself, it’s fun to watch in isolation, but it’s such a let down knowing what’s to come from it all.

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #anti-tangled #demanitus

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coffeecomicsgalore · 4 years

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A Little Rain, A Big Love Story

Ao3

This is my submission for the @luckycharmzine! I hope you enjoy the Ladynoir Identity Reveal Scene.

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Ladybug looked across the dark Parisian skyline, allowing the cool breeze to sweep over her. It was still fairly warm out, the heat of the summer day seeping into the night. The cool breeze felt welcomed against her exposed skin.

Chat Noir sat beside her as they relaxed on their favorite beam on the Eiffel Tower. As usual, it was an easy night of patrolling. There was nothing besides a stray cat stuck in a tree and two young boys arguing over a pack of trading cards. They didn’t have to stress over an akuma or deal with police-solving issues. So, when they have nights like this – quiet, peaceful, and relaxing – it made their conversations quite comforting.

While they couldn’t talk much about their civilian lives and risk revealing too much, they did enjoy giving each other a glimpse of themselves. It would only be little things, like favorite colors, snacks, or subjects. Things that were common enough that neither could guess easily, yet they still relished in those little tidbits of information.

Trusting yourself in your partner without knowledge of who they were underneath the mask was a risk, but Ladybug would risk her life for him on any occasion.

If he would let her, that is.

“You know.” Chat started, continuing to look towards the skyline as he spoke. “You would really like my friends. We are so close. I don’t know what I would do without them.” He ended with a satisfied hum as his lips quirked into a small smile.

Ladybug looked over to her partner and grinned. He looked so at peace tonight. It was a pleasant change to their last conversation where he seemed distressed and distracted. She missed it when her kitty didn’t ooze silliness out of his suit.

“I know what you mean.” She looked back out to the skyline as he turned to look at her. “Do you remember that boy I had that major crush on?”

“You mean the one that never gave you the time of day?”

She scoffed and pushed his shoulder teasingly. “Chat!”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. Go ahead.”

Ladybug side-eyed him for a moment. When she felt like he wasn’t going to continue teasing, she proceeded. “Well, over the last two years, especially after me trying to get over said crush on him, we grew closer. I consider him to be one of my best friends. Like so close that he is a close tie to my best girlfriend. But I won’t tell her that. I enjoy my life too much to succumb to imminent death.” They both laughed. “But anyways, he said something today and it reminded me of you. I think you two could be close friends.”

“Why? Does he have amazing puns like moi?” He joked, bringing his hand to his chest as he mentioned himself.

“Actually, yeah. I didn’t even know he could joke like that. But you would appreciate his puns. Sometimes I think he could probably out-pun you.”

“Out pun the pun master? Never.”

“I know of one other person that could probably out pun you, chaton. But I can’t mention who.”

“I guess I will have to battle your friend in a pun duel then. I need to keep this knight and shining leather fighting by your side, puns and all.”

Ladybug shook her head. “I have enough room in my heart for all three of my pun masters. No dueling required. I promise.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before Chat noticed that her face softened, but her eyes meant she was a distance away.

“You okay, bugaboo?” He inquired, just enough softness in his voice to allow her to talk her feelings through, but also enough to show her he wouldn’t pry.

She sighed, but decided to tell him. “Even though he’s my best friend, a part of me will always love him. Do you know how difficult it is to force yourself to move on considering he’s constantly in my life? Of all the people that have come into my life, no one has caught my eye or my heart like he has.” Ladybug turned to him. Chat could see the sadness in her face. “Actually. There has been one other person, but it’s just not possible. At least not right now.”

Chat eyed her with a mix of fondness and sadness. Seeing her feel like this broke his heart, and he knew exactly how she felt.

“I know what you mean.” He looked back towards the sky, the last two years crossing his mind. The relationships he had made and lost were pressing against his heart and he ached from the pain. “Letting go of the one you love, especially when they’ve made a significant impact in your life, is hard. But love has never been easy. No matter how much you try to move on, it still lingers.”

Ladybug turned to Chat and took his hand, squeezing the love she had for him through her fingers. “I love you, Chat, more than you can begin to know. But you have to understand, you were never meant to be second best. You deserve someone who will love you with their whole heart.” She looked down and laughed bitterly. “And unless luck is truly on my side, maybe the boy I love is really you beneath the mask. Once Hawkmoth is defeated, I want to know who you are. You will always have a place in my life and my heart no matter how this chapter of our lives end.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes as her words etched themselves into the spot in his heart reserved for her. Chat was the first to break the gaze, looking back out into the Parisian skyline as a comfortable silence mingled between them. When Chat finally swallowed the strangling pain in his throat, he confessed.

“You know. I’ll always love you, bugaboo. A part of me always had. It always will. I’ve tried to move on and date other people, but no one besides this one girl, my best friend, has ever caught my eye.”

Ladybug looked at him and smiled even as a twinge of jealousy ran through her body. She shrugged it off and placed her head on his shoulder. Their fingers laced together as they enjoyed the small embrace. If she couldn’t love him in the way they both wished she could, she could at least love him like this. “That girl is lucky to have your heart.”

They sat there in another comfortable silence before Chat scrunched his face and let out a breathy chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, lifting her head up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Well, it has something to do with that girl. You know, I don’t think anyone knows this, so I think I’m in the clear to say it.” Ladybug scrunched her nose, but then decided it would probably be fine. She gave him a nod to continue. “She became my first self-initiated friend when I started school. There was a huge misunderstanding. I almost lost her friendship before building one.”

“That seems extreme. What happened?”

“On my first day, she thought that I was trying to target her. She had always been bullied by one of my longtime friends, so she assumed I was the same way. Believe it or not, I’m socially awkward. I didn’t know any of the dos and don’ts of making friends.”

Ladybug could see his face visibly soften.

“It was raining and we were the only two standing outside as I was leaving to go home. I don’t know why, but something just compelled me to talk to her, to tell her that I didn’t have any friends, that everything was still so new to me. I almost left but then turned around. I told her I was sorry that I made her believe that I played a cruel prank on her. I told her that I only had one friend before that day and at the time, I didn’t want to lose that friendship either.”

Chat continued to look out at the skyline, but Ladybug had caught on to something interesting about his story. It was one that was strangely similar to her own story. One that no one else would know of.

“Once I apologized, I gave her the umbrella I had. I mean, my car was right there so it didn’t bother me to get a little wet. But I just didn’t want her to get soaked going home and I didn’t know how long the rain was going to be around for. I didn’t know where she lived and I didn’t realize that she lived so close to the school, but I couldn’t just let her get soaked.”

He let out a lovesick sigh and let out a chuckle before looking down at his claw to examine his ring. “Honestly, I think that was the first moment that I started to fall for her. I just didn’t realize it because I was so infatuated with you.”

Ladybug looked to him with such softness. Tears were welling up in her eyes and a blush donned her cheeks. Chat looked up at her and started to worry, afraid that he said something he shouldn’t.

“That moment is a moment too beautiful to forget.” She said, wiping the tears that started to fall in front of her mask. “She is lucky to have such a caring person in her life, chaton.”

Chat finally smiled. “Yeah, she’s so caring that I’m afraid to lose her. She’s shy around me sometimes. I’m afraid that she’ll reject me if I ask her out.”

“I think you should ask anyways. I bet she’ll say yes.”

He thought for a moment before asking her. “What about you?”

“I guess since you told me about your bestie, I should tell you about mine.” She snickered. “Every time I tried to confess to him, something went wrong. Like this scarf I made him, or the valentine I tried to send him, or the doctor’s note I gave him instead of a love confession, the video love confession that got deleted. Oh, and the beret... it just never worked out before.” She shrugged.

Guess it doesn’t matter now because she could finally confess without having to do it first.

“You see. I fell in love with this boy who I thought was a bully. I thought he put gum on my chair and was a prissy rich kid because he was best friends with the girl who hated my guts. But then he apologized and handed me his umbrella in the rain. That simple act of kindness and his laughter after I accidentally pressed the close button on the handle filled my soul with so much love, that I couldn’t let it go.”

Ladybug turned to Chat to see that he was wide eyed and jaw slacked.

“No wonder why I couldn’t let it go.” She smiled with so much love in her eyes that she could not contain the giggle that bubbled up within her. “I guess I was lucky after all.”

“Marinette?” He said so quietly, afraid that the conversation would crack and leave them in a different world.

“Hi Adrien.” She replied back softly.

Chat cupped her cheek with his claw and rubbed his thumb against the line between her mask and her skin. “It’s really you. I fell in love with you twice.”

“And I never stopped loving you. My love only grew.”

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against hers. She sighed at the contact, her eyes pleading. He leaned in and kissed her lips, slow and soft but full of love and want. When they pulled back, they looked at each other as rain started to fall around them, the clasp of thunder bringing them back to that very first moment that sealed their fate.

“My lady. I love you.”

“I love you too, my chaton.”

#luckycharmzine #ladynoir #identity reveal #rain #umbrella scene #love confessions #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml

52 notes · View notes

gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Dear John

@purfectpurple asked for question number 8.

(why won’t Tumblr tag you????? Aaargh! Stupid program!)

Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I have written far too much fic. It took me a while to work out which fic to choose, but then I remembered this one.

This is built almost entirely out of text messages so it is almost all dialogue. The back story is that Virg was seriously injured and due to reasons, he can’t see his brother John without a serious negative emotional reaction to his presence. But Virgil loves his brother and tries to reach out and talk to him anyway, even if it is only through text messages. And John loves his brother too.

This one was both painful and hilarious to write. It is one of my very early fics and part of a series that is kinda special to me. I’m particularly happy with this one because, honestly, for what it was, I think it works really well.

I’ve posted the whole thing rather than a snippet because I think it needs to be read as a whole to get the effect.

It should also be noted that at the time I was still terrified of writing John :D

-o-o-o-

Title: Dear John

Tales of Sotto Voce

Author: Gumnut

9-10 Sep 2018

-o-o-o-

Message from OntheVirg.

Dear John.

I don’t really know where to start other than to say that I am so sorry. This is not your fault and I know I’m hurting you. If I could stop I would.

I miss you, little brother, please don’t doubt that ever. This thing that bastard has done to me has come between us, but I still love you (yes, I said it, you can now poke fun) and we will get through it. Somehow.

I’m having a hell of a time talking at the moment, so even if I could bear to be in the same room with you, having a conversation would be difficult. Would you mind if we swapped words using the message system? A little odd to be pen pals when we are only a couple of rooms away, but I’m hoping it will help. And I miss you.

Your brother, Virgil.

John stared at the message and something inside him broke. He knew the state his brother was in. He was still confined to the infirmary, could barely walk due to dizzy spells, could barely speak, and was wracked with emotional instability, his brain struggling to right itself after the attack.

Yet, he had managed to write this?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Certainly, Virgil.

I think it is a good idea. It is likely to help us regain our relationship.

It is also great to see you able to write so well, considering your condition. I am very happy to hear from you.

And yes, I love you, too. No poking required.

I am also so sorry this has happened to you. I would offer some regrets, but I cannot see any way that we could have honestly prevented it. Looking back reveals so many opportunities, yet given the same situations with the same information at the time, we would have acted in exactly the same manner. It appears the Hood planned well for once in his life and he almost succeeded.

The only element that he didn’t plan for was you. It is you we have to thank for his failure. I have never been more thankful for your stubborn streak in my life.

I’m am so proud to have such a strong big brother.

John.

He hit send and bit his lip. He wouldn’t list personal relations in his list of best skills, but Virgil knew that. He just hoped he was good enough.

Several hours later, John was startled out of the sub-function he was writing by a chime from his tablet.

Message from OntheVirg.

John.

Thank you for your vote of confidence. To be honest all I could think of at the time was that I couldn’t let you have my ship. You yelled and screamed, but no, you couldn’t have her. Then you hurt me, tried to force me, but no

Sorry, wasn’t you.

It was to be expected. John was surprised the message had even been sent and not deleted. Perhaps Virgil had hit the wrong button. Or perhaps he was trying to explain.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Virgil.

There are no words for the extent of the anger I feel for the violation made against you. There is no need to apologise. I understand, big brother.

Please if you need to talk. I am here.

John

He swallowed and hit send.

Message from OntheVirg.

Do you remember that deer Dad found on the side of the road that had been hit by a car? How it looked up at us desperate for help, but somehow knew it wasn’t going to come?

It felt like that.

It hurt so much. I couldn’t do what he asked, so he just hurt me more. And then I think he just hurt me because he could. There wasn’t any way out.

And he looked just like you. I think that hurt the most.

He had to resist the urge to run down the hallway and hug his brother. He rubbed his eyes instead.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I really wish I could hug you right now. Tell Scott to give you a hug from me.

Do you know why he looked like me?

John

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Hug delivered.

You okay?

Message from GuyintheSky.

As well as I could be considering the circumstances. How is he?

John.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Struggling to type. We’re going to have to call it quits soon. It is taking everything he has to hit those keys. But I think he needs this.

Thank you for being there.

How goes the programming?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Don’t let him overtax himself.

Where else would I be? He is my big brother.

Slowly. Whoever did this really knew what they were doing. It is cutting edge work. I can guarantee that the Hood outsourced it. Far too smart for him. I recommend we set Penelope and Kayo on their tail. I dread to think what else this person could be capable of doing. Brains has already started the groundwork to protect our systems. We have a long road ahead to get our equipment up to a level I will be happy to let out on the field without fear of compromise.

I’m afraid International Rescue is down for the count for the foreseeable future.

John.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Damn. I still had hope for a magic wand. Do your best. I know you will.

Oh, and if you need to talk, let me know. Virgil isn’t the only victim here.

Message from OntheVirg

Gonna have to stop soon. Tired.

I have thought about that and I’m not sure. Have you ever met the Hood? I don’t think you have. So I’m wondering how on Earth he knew what you looked like.

But then perhaps he didn’t have to know. Perhaps the program just needed to source the most likely person in my head it could use. You are unique, little brother. Because you spend so much time on TB5, I mostly see you as a hologram. That would be extremely convenient for a mole.

In any case, I fell for it.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

He’s asleep.

You know, watching him, I can see why the Hood didn’t win. He won’t give up. By the end of his last message his hands were shaking so badly, I had to help him tap the right keys. Wouldn’t let me do it for him, no, he had to do it himself.

We are so damn lucky to have him for a brother.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I know.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Johnny?

He was still sitting, staring down at his tablet when Scott entered the room behind him. He continued to stare as his brother’s hands took away the tablet and placed on the shelf beside him. When a hand was placed gently on his shoulder he finally looked up into those caring blue eyes.

It was enough to break him again.

For the first time in many years, his biggest brother drew him gently into a hug. John let his forehead drop to the soft material of Scott’s shirt and simply clung.

-o-o-o-

Message from OntheVirg.

Roses are red We wear blue I look groovy And so do you.

Message from OntheVirg.

There once was a flyboy named Scott Who used to fly around a lot He flew so fast He kissed his own ass And completely lost the plot.

Message from OntheVirg.

And then there was one named John Whose appendages were quite long In space he was ace Full of delicate grace But in gravity everything went wrong.

Message from GuyintheSky.

GORDON, GET OFF VIRGIL’S TABLET!

-o-o-o-

Message from GuyintheSky.

You there, Virgil?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Yeah.

Message from GuyintheSky.

How are you?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Been better.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Scott with you?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

No. I sent him to bed. He looked awful. Please make sure he looks after himself. You know what he is like when one of us is injured.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’ve been trying, but he is slippery. Any tips?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Don’t take no for an answer and, if necessary, manhandle.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I don’t exactly have your physique, Virgil.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Out logic him then. He does see sense occasionally.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’ll try.

Virgil, I had an idea about how we could see each other. Do you remember my prom?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Really?!! You’d try that again?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Do you think it would help?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Honestly, John, I don’t know. Maybe. It is certainly a fond memory, for me, if not for you. Would you really do that for me?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Of course. It will grow back and maybe that could help you ease back into seeing me?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

You would really go that far?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Wouldn’t you?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Maybe.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I know you better than that.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

It is asking a lot. Are you sure?

Message from LittleSpaceballs

John.

Can you please give Gordon access to his tablet. He is driving me insane.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Yes, Virgil. Give me a moment. Alan is throwing a hissy.

Message from GuyintheSky.

No, Alan.

Message from LittleSpaceballs.

Then at least change my username for me. He’s locked me out of my settings and his sense of humour leaves much to be desired.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Sure.

Message from TheShortestOne.

Thanks, John. Yours isn’t much better.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Now you lack the balls.

Message from TheShortestOne.

You’re not safe on your little satellite at the moment, John. Remember that.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Go and see Virgil. He needs the company.

Message from TheShortestOne.

How is he doing?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Go and ask him. I’m sure he would love to see you.

Message from TheShortestOne.

I guess.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Have you gone to see him at all?

Message from TheShortestOne.

I’ve been busy.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Alan.

Message from TheShortestOne.

Okay.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Alan.

Message from TheShortestOne.

I hate seeing him like that.

Message from GuyintheSky.

We all hate seeing him like that. This isn’t about us, it is about him. He sacrificed so much to protect us, the least you can do is visit him while he is recovering. He’ll be missing you. You know what he is like.

Message from TheShortestOne.

I know.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Get Gordon to go with you if it will help.

Message from TheShortestOne.

Maybe.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Alan, do you have any idea how much I would like to walk in and see Virgil right now? But I can’t. Move your ass and go see him.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Everything okay?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Yeah, Alan is just being Alan.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

He tends to do that. Being Alan and all.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Ha ha.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

So you are going to try it?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Yeah.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

I’ll owe you big time, Johnny.

Message from GuyintheSky.

No, you won’t.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Do I get to keep proof?

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’m sure Gordon will oblige - at a factor of approximately one thousand.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

It will be painful. You have my sympathies. Speak of the devil, the terrible two are here. Speak to you later?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Of course. And you have my sympathies too. Yell if it becomes unbearable.

-o-o-o-

Message from EatYourVirgetables.

Fgxzs

Message from GuyintheSky

Virgil?

When his brother didn’t answer, John pulled up the video feed from his room. Virgil was not in his bed, the covers ruffled and discarded.

Frowning John scanned the room. For a moment he thought it was empty, but no. Right on the very edge of the camera field, a hand lay across a discarded tablet on the floor.

He hit his comm. “Scott, get to the infirmary, now!” And he was moving.

He didn’t know exactly where in the building Scott was, but John was close. He dashed down the corridor, tore around the corner...and Scott had beat him to it.

Virgil was on the floor, distressed and disoriented, struggling to get up. Scott knelt beside him, his hands on his brother’s shoulders muttering reassurances.

John slipped back into the shadows. He could not be seen. Certainly not when Virgil was in this state.

“It was a nightmare. Only a dream.”

“It h-rts. G-d, it h-rts.” There were unshed tears in his brother’s voice, a shaking hand fumbling at his temple. “Mk it g ‘way.”

“I-I can’t, Virg. I’m so sorry.”

Virgil let out a sob. “Why? Why d-s he w-nt to h-rt m?

“Because he was a self-serving bastard who would do anything to get what he wants.” The venom in Scott’s tone startled Virgil.

“J-hn?”

Oh, god.

“No! John would never-“

“H-rts.”

Scott drew his brother close, rocking him gently, desperately trying to calm him down.

John slipped back into the corridor and headed back to his room, heart in pieces.

-o-o-o-

Message from TheMightyFish.

John?

Message from TheMightyFish.

Johnny?

Message from TheMightyFish.

Jooooooooohhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnyyyyyy.

Message from TheMightyFish.

I really don’t like being ignored. You haven’t answered your comms and your door is locked. C’mon, John. We’re worried about you.

Message from TheMightyFish.

John. John. John. John. John.

Message from TheMightyFish.

Please John. I really don’t want to have to deploy Scott, he looks like shit.

Message from GuyintheSky.

What do you want, Gordon?

Message from TheMightyFish.

You okay?

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’m fine.

Message from TheMightyFish.

Don’t believe you. This all sucks big time. Let me in, pleeease.

Message from TheMightyFish

C’mon, John. We need each other in this.

John sighed and walking out of his bathroom, opened the door. Sure enough, Gordon was standing outside, tablet in hand, worry on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I should be asking you that question, bro. You look almost as bad as Scott.”

“Well, plenty of reason.” He sighed. “Is he okay?”

“Who?”

“Scott. Virgil. Pick a brother. Everyone is hurting.”

Gordon looked at him for a moment as if he was going to say something, but then decided against. Instead he took the opportunity to push past John and into his room. “What are you doing in here anyway?”

“Gordon-“

“What?! You’re going to dye your hair???” His little brother let out a laugh. “This will be good.” He grabbed the packet. “Blond? Do anything to be me, huh?” The humour in his brother’s eyes was definitely infectious.

“I’m hoping it will help.”

Gordon immediately sobered. He looked down at the packet. “Prom?”

“Yeah.”

“That sucked.”

“Yes, it did.”

Gordon reached up and patted his shoulder. “Hope it works better than it did last time.”

John looked down a moment. “Hey, Gordon. Do me a favour?”

“Anything, bro.”

“Can I borrow one of your shirts?”

Gordon cracked up. “Anything to be me.”

-o-o-o-

Message from EverVirgilant.

You ready?

Message from LongJohnBlondie.

Are you?

Message from EverVirgilant.

Scott’s here, and Gordon. Dunno where Alan is. We have enough troops should I lose it.

Message from LongJohnBlondie.

You are not going to lose it. Do me a favour and cuff Gordon about the ears for me. I don’t know how he has changed my username this time, but even I’m locked out now.

Message from EverVirgilant.

Cuff deployed. Consider yourself scowled at. I’ll speak to Brains later. See if I can get his font to appear pink with flowers and fairies.

Message from LongJohnBlondie.

Sounds great.

Message from EverVirgilant.

Now get your ass in here.

-o-o-o-

Scott was tired. But that seemed to be the permanent state of affairs since his brother had been injured. He was wary of this experiment, but agreed that it was worth the try. Virgil missed John, and John was going through his own version of hell in this, so if it helped just a little, it would help a lot.

Gordon dashed back into the room, a grin on his face. “Awesome. Totally awesome.”

Scott glared at him, but his grin would not be subdued.

He reached for Virgil’s hand. Simple reassurance.

Virgil’s voice was hesitant. “C-m in, J-hn.”

The middle brother edged around the doorway, and Scott felt Virgil tense.

Oh my god.

His tall lanky brother had cut his hair short and dyed blond. He had obviously shoved a pile of product into it and it stood up in messy spikes. On top of that he was sporting a pair of John Lennon sunglasses, conveniently hiding his eyes.

One of Gordon’s just a little too small, blindingly colourful shirts hung from his shoulders, leaving just a hint of bare skin at his waistline. Low hung burgundy linen pants and leather sandals finished off the ensemble.

So far from their John that a new man stood in the room.

“J-hn?” Virgil’s voice cracked.

John attempted a grin.

Virgil succeeded. “Yu l-k gr-t.” Scott started as Virgil suddenly pushed aside his covers and clambered out of bed. He steadied him as he wavered predictably, but let him go as he hesitantly approached his little brother.

His shoulders were tense, but he reached out and laid a hand on John’s chest. “H-w r yu?”

Quiet and still tentative. “Getting better by the minute.”

Virgil looked up at him, a mess of emotion on his face.

“How are you, Virgil?”

Whispered. “G-ttig b-tter b the m-nut.” He swallowed, then leaping in, closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his little brother. “M-ssed yu.”

John gently returned the embrace. “Missed you, too.”

Scott swallowed as something caught in his throat.

They stood there for a moment before Virgil broke it off, stumbling a little and backing off. Gordon caught him and led him back to the bed.

John stayed where he was standing as his big brother sat back down on the bed. Scott grabbed a hand. “You okay?”

Virgil smiled up at him. “Ye, I th-k I am.”

The biggest brother in the room broke into a grin and tightened his grip. He looked up at John and finally saw a hesitant smile on the man’s face.

They had made a beginning.

-o-o-o-

Message from ScottyWantaCracker.

GORDON!

Message from TheVirgilQueen

What has he done now?

Message from HeWhoLooksUpSkirtsBecauseHeisTooShorttoLookDownShirts

What the hell?!

Message from BlondHippyandLippy

He’s in the pool.

Message from ScottyWantaCracker.

I’m going to drain the damn thing!

Message from SleekSilverandFoxy.

I’ll take care of it.

#Username reset

ScottTracy

VirgilTracy

JohnTracy

AlanTracy

GroovyGrandma

GordonisGrovelling.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

The rest of the series can be found here.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Sotto Voce

27 notes · View notes

genderfluidlucifer · 3 years

Text

Response to being asked to give an opinion on Connie’s calout by residentevil-4

(Tw: CSAM, rape fic, incest fic, predatory behavior, racism, ableism, kink mention, nsfw mentions. Minors should probably dni.)

“Connie and I know each other irl and went to school together for 3 years, although they now live in a different state and have cut contact with me. We went to a private therapy school in Manhattan as we're both disabled and were deemed unable to attend public school. Even though we were pretty close, Connie didn't like having photos taken of them, so I don't have any selfies of the two of us; however, these are from our sophomore and senior yearbooks which at least confirms that we were in the same year at school. People who have seen Connie's selfies should be able to confirm that that is what they look like. First and foremost, Connie is not TMA. They are intersex and the two of us have discussed intersex issues both in person and online, but they are still decidedly CAFAB.” Ok so first off, I want to address this part of the callout. To be honest...was it really necessary to literally doxx Connie ehre? Because this textbook definition of doxxing. Yes Connie’s done some shitty things but I freally don’t think that what they’ve done warrants this level of doxxing. Or...even better, any doxxing. This feels like a really unnecessary breach of privacy, revealing sensitive information on Connie’s childhood that they choose to confide in you with. I really don’t agree with this aspect of the callout as it feels very invasive and bordering on stalkerish. Btw when I say bordering on stalkerish I’m not directly calling you a stalker Bonnie. Just so we’re clear. I am not defending Connie supposedly faking being TMA. Because faking being TMA is a very serious issue. HOWEVER since I don’t know Connie irl and to be quite frank it’s none of my business what the nature of their agab is. Were not close and I’m certainly not going to like lead Connie onto thinking we’re friends just to confirm this with them because that would be creepy. So to be honest I’m going to take this part of the callout with again of salt for now.

[ID: A cropped screenshot of a numbered list Connie posted to their blog hadrosaurs in response to an ask.

“3. I’m TMA And that’s completely irrelevant. I’m not accusing them because of their gender I didn’t even know their gender when they said that to me saying that they said that because they fucking said that and the reaction to it was incredibly alarming. Don’t fucking say that stuff to people.]

I mean I”m not a trans woman so take this with a grain of salt if you want but...I don’t see how this is really proof of Connie being deliberately transmisogynistic? Yes Connie gives iffy retellings of mistakes they’ve made in the past. I’ve seen that on their blog before and I won’t pretend it doesn’t happen. BUT here they sound genuine enough and to be honest a growing issue I’ve seen with callouts as of late is. A person confirms they in fact did not do the thing they were called out for. And then the people who make the callout choose to see it as proof of incriminating behavior anyways. To be honest it’s a big problem and it’s also incredibly unfair to the person being called out. If you’re so determined at that point to see the person as bigoted no matter what they say then of course anything they say can be seen as proof. So I’m going to have to pass on this bit of evidence. “Connie responded: “Final note: I have spoken extensively with several trans women about using TMA to describe myself. I will not be getting into discourse about that on this blog again. All that leads to is people demanding my medical records and calling me slurs. If you wanna have a thoughtful conversation about it direct message me cause it’s not happening again here.” Again this really doesn’t seem all that self incriminating. Connie mentions here that they’ve talked to rl trans woman about whether or not they can be considered TMA. Connie really doesn’t have to disclose that personal information to people for any reason. Yes even when people are e including this ask response in a callout. And considering lots of people DO get invasive about Connie’s medical history ans general personal life over matters like this? I feel their reaction is pretty understandable here. “Connie has constantly compared “exclusionists” (or anyone, really) to TERFs, even when the people in question are not transmisogynistic, trans exclusionary radfems, or are even transmisogyny affected themselves.

“ Gonna have to disagree with this part of the callout too. Lots of ace inclus blogs, even some run by trans women , have proven that the ace exclus movement was started by swerfs/terfs. But the blog that has the most evidence for this is courteousmingler on tumblr. I suggest you check out that blog’s archiving of the history of ace exclus rhetoric before rushing to call me a transmisogynist for disagreeing with this part of the callout. I looked through all of the evidence for Connie being racist and tbh as a black ndn it all feels incredibly flimsy. It’d be one thing if Connie was using their experiences to derail and invalidate the discussions about how black people are oppressed But they weren’t doing that there at all. This part of the post feels incredibly biased. And like OP is looking for things to be mad about. Going to have to pass on this list of evidence. Also uh I seem to recall that residentevil04 got called out for some questionable behavior as well. “Both me (insepsy, hi) and ezrat have had really weird spikes in activity on our Statcounters, both on the same day. (Saturday, 4/17/21) For both of us, majority of the pages looked at by these visitors have been related to or about Connie, or have been posts that Connie would find "problematic" such as the f slur untagged or something related to "panphobia"/aphobia. I’m sorry but...none of the proof of cyberstalking holds any water. Visiting someone’s blogs and rbing posts to disagree with them is not cyberstalking. Keeping tabs on urls that an abusive person who has harassed are using so you can block them (in this case with kyoshi) and warn your mutuals is not stalking. As a victim of rl stalking it’s...really weird to call this legit stalking at all. Much less claim that you have damning proof of it being stalking when no such evidence exists in the callout. Besides after Connie and nonbinarydave called out one of kyoshi’s buddies for sending a death threat hate anon to nonbinarydave’s toddler st4lker partly admitted to doing it a few times. Then other mutuals in kyoshi’s toxic social circle clearly began joining in. Making side accounts where they tried to spin a false narrative of nonbinarydave’s daughter being one of their alters (ableist as hell.) And also trying to do it in such a way that they thought would trigger nonibnarydave’s psychosis (also ableist as hell.) If you’re going to drag Connie for their mistakes and never let them move on from those mistakes then it’s only fair to do that to people you agree with who also do toxic/bigoted things. ALso the fact that your wording here suggests that you think panphobia and aphobia aren’t real makes me doubt this claim even more. Exclus and their allies are notorious for mislabeling inclus disagreeing with them as stalking. “connie said that they would release that info at a later time and the minor began to argue with them that they had a responsibility regardless of their complicated relationship with age. in this argument connie for a time kept their age ambiguous and at one point told the minor (who confirmed in a later ask that they were severely traumatized by adults) that they obviously weren’t traumatized. connie quickly deleted this ask and any mentions of it and the next post they reblogged was about how wrong it was to try and quantify or discount others’ trauma. on my old blog i @ed them in the replies and asked if they had just done that. connie admitted to it and said it was fucked up but quickly blocked + deleted my comment. i can’t remember whether or not connie apologized to the minor, they may have? but yeah. i thought that was pretty weird.”] I do agree with some of the concern here that adults shouldn’t over expose minors in discourse. I’ve been contemplating this for awhile myself. And trying to figure out how to take better steps to avoid including minors who are triggered by discourse in discourse, especially. HOWEVER I have one little issue with this addition to the callout. If that is the case then exclus and their allies need to practice this as well. You cannot ignore the fact that the reason a lot of minors are getting involved in exclus discourse is due to adult exclus and their allies forcing minors to pick a side in the discourse. Y’all are not at all exempt from this problem. I still remember an ex mutual of mine trying to convince a minor to agree that aces can’t face corrective rape. And based on how aggressive it got with me when I tried to avoid giving an opinion on the matter, I can’t imagine that it would’ve reacted better to the minor refusing to give an opinion or to the minor outright disagreed. Refusing to put these standards on exclus and their allies is both hypocritical and quite frankly very transparent. The claims about them glorifying dark topics on AO3 through their fics also seems unfortunately legit. I mean those asks of shaming people who ask their viewers to not romanticize or glorify abusive relationships in their works is very damning. I’m very disappointed to see that Connie has taken being an inclus to the point of validating antis anti culture wholeheartedly. I can’t think of much more to add to my opinion on that part of the callout. As for the issue of Connie interacting with pro shippers in the past, I do know that this claim is legit. I’ve seen it before and so has Breeze. This was why for a brief time we decided to stop following their blogs. Because it was triggering to have pro shippers put on our dash. And sometimes we just don’t feel it’s worth it to always let people we’re platforming know they’re rbing triggering stuff. So sometimes we just quietly unfollow and choose to not interact until we’re sure they’re filtering what they do and don’t rb in some way. I definitely don’t agree with that behavior. And if they’re still doing that I”ll deplatform again. “The anon asks: “A weird question but do you know any other stimboard blogs with your follow criteria? (No radfems, racists, fandom antis, etc.) I was hoping to find more through your “similar blogs” but a lot have no anti-antis for their DNI or allow truscum/transmeds and exclus. :(“

The user responds: “I know of @turtle-pond-stims, @outofangband, and @kinaesthetics! 🍂🍄" “[ID: A cropped screenshot of an ask sent by Connie from their now-deactivated blog, butch-with-a-tortoise.

Connie says: “hey anon I have safe stim blogs. dm me if you want them. And radfems/bigots aren’t allowed to interact. For my own safety (because the community is honestly terrifying) I can’t publicly say on my blogs that I’m safe for proshippers/kinky people but I try to spread word how I can.”] [ID: Screenshot of a post by evilwriter37, which reads, “I’ve been seeing posts about fandom police leaving ao3, and it’s like: Good. We don’t want you here anyway. Go find your own fanfiction site.”

The post is tagged “#Fandom #AO3 #Antis #Purity Culture” and has 87 notes. It was posted on December 21st, 2020.

There is a reply from main-to-outofangband-andothers saying: “there are Silm antis on that site who are against Russigon (Maedhros and Fingon) not because they’re cousins but because they’re both male (coded)”] [ID: A screenshot of an anonymous (though signed off as being from outofangband) ask sent to evilwriter37, which says, “Melkor and Viggo solidarity is ‘Look there’s nothing wrong with keeping my enemy chained up in my personal chambers at all times so please just focus on the war efforts and I’ll focus on the boy* in my chambers’ -@outofbangand.

*boy used figuratively @ antis”

The user responds: “Pfft!!! Hahaha! You’re absolutely right! (And Viggo does refer to Hiccup in canon as ‘my boy’).”] I can’t really say anything to refute this. Because these are all posts of Connie outright stating that they disagree with antis. And not only sympathize with anti antis but are fully against antis. Looks like very damning evidence. Although ngl I’m not entirely against kinky blogs as a whole? Just so long as they truly stay in their lane with their kink content. And don’t force it on others in any way. Or shame people who are triggered by their kinks. It is true that being entirely against kinky blogs no matter what is dipping your toes into swerf rhetoric. Tbh I’m not going to look at the rest. This is pretty much all I need to make a decision on whether or not I”ll continue platforming Connie. Though I will try to get some more perspective from people who I interact with as well. Because I feel better about making a more definitive decision after doing that. Also in general please don’t not try to get an opinion from me on how I feel about syscourse. A lot of the claims about Connie’s age weirdness and them using their alters as a shield feel like syscourse to me. Especially if this callout was written by one or several singlets. Singlets should never be trying to judge how legit someone’s system is ever. Even if their system friends encourage them to. You can call out a horrible person with a system without trying to insinuate that they’re lying about their alters in some way. Doing otherwise is ableist ESPECIALLY if you’re a singlet. Also in general the reason I stay out of discussions of judging how someone is handling their systems is because it’s syscourse and syscourse is triggering for my system and I. If this post was an attempt to get me to give an opinion on the validity of Connie’s system I don’t appreciate it. And I would appreciate not being dragged into such matters again, thank you.

In general there’s like a few parts of this callout that feel legit. Which is unfortunately cluttered with obvious bias and obsessive hatred of Connie. I’m not here to stan or coddle Connie. I know they are not a perfect person. Especially since no human being in the world is perfect. But I feel the way this callout was created was very sloppy since a lot of the evidence was messy at best. And some points were very hypocritical as well as there being some no true scotsman moments from OP. In acting like exclus never do any of the thing that they tried to call out Connie for. Which is behavior that I am not a fan of. This is why people need to be more careful about callouts and like make roughdrafts and have a more unbiased person helping them if they don’t feel they can do it on their own. I’m even trying to make a resolve to do better at that myself. So it’s not like I’m unwilling to put my money where my mouth is. Anyways those are all my thoughts on this messy callout. And tbh I’m not going to get too much more heavily involved in this. Because I need to focus on more immediately serious rl stuff more often, like doing what I can to get out of the hellish landscape of a house I currently am stuck in.

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