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plus-size-reader · 3 years

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Just a Kid

Daryl Dixon x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2453 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Taking Lydia in as your own with Daryl

Hi, I couldn’t get this concept out of my head.

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“She’s just a kid, D” you hummed, carefully working at the knot in his neck that he’d been complaining about for days.

You knew that this thing with the girl, and Jesus, and all these people wearing faces was really starting to wear on Daryl’s nerves.

You could tell, because every night when he came back to your house, he was even more tense than the last and at this point, you were really starting to get concerned that he would burst a blood vessel.

There was just too much going on right now.

...but you knew what you had to do.

Lydia was just a child, and even if her people were the purest evil you could ever imagine, that didn’t mean that she was. If nothing else, she was little more than a battered little girl who had never known any better.

That was how you saw her, and you knew Daryl did too.

He just wasn’t ready to take on so much yet, and honestly, he didn’t know if he could. It was hard for him to have to take over all this at Hilltop, and that girl they’d brought was only making it worse.

“You still on that?” he grumbled back, really hoping that you would have gotten over this pipe dream of yours already.

The two of you had talked this conversation to death, and while you knew there was a good chance that nothing was going to change, you would continue to do so until he changed his mind.

Ever since she had come to know this group, you had gotten it in your head that the two of you could give her the home that she had never had but Daryl wasn’t so easily convinced.

It just seemed like more than you were ready for.

He saw that look in your eyes, when she was finally safe behind those gates, but then you’d gone and made it even worse.

You met her.

Maybe it hadn’t been the greatest idea, and maybe it wouldn’t help but you knew that at least you could try to understand better.

You could only imagine how a girl in her position would be feeling. You knew that if you were her, you would have been absolutely terrified.

After all, she was surrounded by strangers, in an unforgiving and new environment.

It was possible that one friendly face would make all the difference to her and as it happened, you had one of the friendliest faces around here.

If anyone was going to get through to her, it was you.

Course, Daryl was against the idea from the start but you knew that no one else was going to stick their neck out for her if you two didn’t. That made it more than worth it to you, even if no one else understood.

She didn’t say a word for the first few days.

Lydia had nothing to say to you and frankly, you couldn't blame her for that. You were a stranger, the enemy as far as she knew, and there was no reason she should have trusted you at all, but that wasn’t always going to be the case.

The more you came, the more she realized that you may have been the only person willing to stick their neck out for her. Once she decided that you weren’t going to kill her, or sell her out, it was pretty much settled.

You needed to help her.

It wasn’t up for debate, but for some reason, convincing Daryl was proving to be an even more difficult task.

“We aren’t her parents, it ain’t our place” he tried, desperately hoping that you would see how insane what you were proposing was. Still, you weren’t letting up, and he knew you well enough to know what that meant.

You were invested.

You were going to do whatever you could to get through to her.

Perhaps it was because you two found yourself comparing her to Daryl or perhaps it was your own soft spot for kids.

In any case, the damage was done.

“She doesn’t have parents D, that’s why she needs us” you sighed, leaning down to rest fully into his back, your head nestled in the space between his shoulder and his neck. It gave you just enough leverage to look at him.

It was hardly up for debate.

Lydia’s mother saw her as little more than an asset, something to abuse and control. After all the things you’d endured with Daryl, it made her well being that much more personal, for both of you.

It took months to get Daryl to tell you about his past.

He trusted you more than anyone else in the world, and his greatest pain was still too difficult to share until he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

You had no doubt that the hold this girl’s mother had on her was even stronger.

At least Daryl had Merle, he knew how much of an asshole his dad was.

Lydia was brainwashed.

You would be lucky if you were ever able to break whatever her mother had done to her, due to the extreme circumstances, but you knew that you had to try.

No one deserved the way she had been treated, and you wanted to make sure that she understood it wasn’t her fault.

Her mother was cruel, and there was nothing more to it than that.

The best way to prove that to her would be giving her a real home, proving to her that not everyone was going to treat her the way that she did. Maybe, if she felt safe, she would finally start to open up.

When the two of you first met, Daryl hardly spoke to you and when he did, it was always in a gruff, unfriendly tone. It took him some time to warm up to you and once he had, that tone warmed up to one of love.

It just took time.

The same thing could apply to Lydia, if you just gave her some time.

If nothing else, it had to be worth a shot.

She was worth it.

“You really wanna do this?” he hummed, after what felt like an eternity of silence between the two of you.

Daryl heard you, he got the message, he just couldn't be sure that being with you, and him, would be enough.

He knew what it was like to be in her position, and he knew how hard it was to let people in. It was possible that she would never allow herself to be cared for in the way you wanted to, and he didn’t want you getting your hopes up.

You would be crushed if she rejected your offer, but it couldn’t hurt.

Even if she wanted nothing to do with either of you, at least you tried to give her something. That was much more than anyone else in the world had ever done for her.

“Yeah, I do. I really do” you smiled, not even bothering to hide the wide grin that spread across your face at the idea of what he was saying. It wasn’t exactly a yes, but it was as much of a yes as you were going to get from Daryl.

It was more than enough.

At the end of the day, even if it was a bad idea, Daryl knew better than to argue with you. What you were suggesting was crazy, but it was so very you that he couldn’t even worry about it.

He fell in love with you and that heart of gold of yours, so if this was what it was telling you to do, he owed it to you to let you do what you thought was right.

You had to, just as he had to.

...and of all the crazy ideas you’d ever had, this was hardly the most dangerous one.

All you wanted to do now was give a little girl a place to live and a family, it wasn’t like you were suggesting some kind of suicide mission. You and Daryl had faced far worse than a child, desperate for belonging and acceptance.

What you were doing was new for all of you.

Lydia wasn’t sure, at first.

After all, she had never really had parents and you and Daryl had certainly never been parents.

It just wasn’t something you had any experience with.

However, with all that you’d lost recently, it didn’t make sense to turn her away too. She was a product of her circumstances and nothing more. It wouldn’t be fair to make Lydia pay for the sins of her mother.

Instead, you chose to put all your effort into making sure she never felt like a burden again.

You knew that she blamed herself, in part, for what her mother had done. Henry was gone, Tara was gone, Enid was gone, it was just too much.

You’d lost too many people in the months it had been and you weren’t interested in losing any more.

You certainly weren’t interested in letting a little girl take the blame for what her people had done, not when she first arrived, and not now.

Lydia was good, she was trying, and that wasn’t something you were going to debate.

Thankfully, that was something you and Daryl could both agree on, without all the initial back and forth.

You were both winging it, of course, but you knew that you had to try and stick up for her. Even the smallest gesture would make a world of difference.

She deserved to feel safe for once.

When you and Daryl had decided to take her in, it wasn’t supposed to be perfect. You weren’t going to move into a little cottage surrounded by a white picket fence, with flowers and a dog.

It was making the best of whatever shit show situation you’d been dealt.

It was all you knew to do.

“You wanna help me with this?” you hummed, addressing your words to the young girl at your side.

What you were asking wasn’t really all that much of a question but considering that you were sewing up a huge hole in Daryl’s button up, she wasn’t interested.

“D does it himself, mostly, but he’s clumsy about it. The stitching always comes undone” you reminded, thinking about the last time he’d offered to stitch up a hole in your jeans, and it had unraveled by the end of the day.

He meant well, he really did, but he had never really had the patience for more delicate things like this. Sewing of any kind, even stitches in flesh, had never really been his foray.

...but that was okay.

You told him that you would take care of this, and he could pick up the slack somewhere else, making dinner or cleaning blood and dirt out of the laundry.

“I don’t know how” she tried, looking at you in the way she often would when she ran into something she had never done before. The two of you’d had this same conversation when you suggested she go to school with the other children.

She didn’t even know how to read when she came to you, and now, she is making great progress.

It was just a matter of learning what she had never had a chance to learn before.

“I’ll teach you, it's easy” you smiled, handing her the garment with one hand, and the needle with the other.

She looked unsure, lost even, but she took it nonetheless.

“Hold the fabric with this hand, and move the needle with the other, up and down in as straight a line as you can manage” you instructed, keeping it as simple as you possibly could until she got the hang of it.

You knew this was probably a tad bit overwhelming, and if she didn't go it right the first time, she would get discouraged but luckily, years by Daryl’s side had taught you a patience that nothing else ever could.

You could sit here all day if you had to, as long as she got the hang of it.

Lydia had been living with her pack of skin walkers all this time, only doing what she was told, but that wasn’t the life she was living now.

She was part of a community, and she had a family, but that also meant that she had to learn to protect and provide for herself when you weren’t there. If something ever happened to you or Daryl, she still had to live.

Her clothes couldn’t be ripped or ruined, her wounds couldn’t stay open to fester, and eventually, she would need to cook and clean for herself too, but for now, a helping hand was all you needed.

People were what kept your communities running, and your home was no different. You and Daryl were a team, communicating without words most of the time, and she was part of that now.

She was part of the team.

“Like that?” she tried, hoping that some part of what she was doing was right. There was no real way to tell but you didn’t seem upset so that had to be a good sign.

It was a strangely domestic task for her, one that brought back memories of her people, her old people, sewing up masks of tanned human skin. The motion was the same, the idea was the same, but there was something normal about this.

She was just fixing a shirt.

There was nothing volatile or aggressive about this, and it wasn’t for anything other than someone she cared for. That made it a little easier to stomach than any other chore may have been.

This was for Daryl after all, and if anyone had earned something like this, it was him.

Lydia wasn’t blind.

She knew what the two of you had done for her, always making sure she had something to eat and sticking up for her when the others got a little too comfortable with their distaste for her.

“Exactly, just a little closer together” you prompted, smiling when she did just as you asked. She was a quick learner, and you knew that she could do this.

This was normal, real, and the sooner she learned that she could live a completely normal life, the sooner she would really adapt to life in a community like this one.

“Once you’re done, you can help Daryl with dinner. I’m sure he’d love the help”

It was hardly where she expected to be, but it was more than where she’d been. At least, with you and Daryl, Lydia knew that she was safe.

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stxleslyds · 3 years

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You always seem down on the idea of the Batfam. I mean, it is hard to take seriously when writers make Bruce hostile or downright abusive towards his kids, or when Batfam members never interact. But do you think the concept itself is good, and it's just been the victim of bad writing? Or do you think the Batfam is a bad idea that can never work?

Hi there Anon! Thank you for the ask!

Hmm, this is a difficult question. Maybe I can answer this better if I do it in parts because the concept of “Batfamily” is used in different ways currently. A way to separate them can be, DC’s Batfamily, Fandom’s Batfamily and Fandom’s Batfamily lore being introduced in comics’ canon.

DC’s Batfamily:

My rejection of this version of Batfamily comes from all angles, it is not a good concept within comics lore anymore, it’s badly written and used to hide and move on from truly horrendous actions done by Bruce towards the rest of the family, and DC uses the concept of “Batfamily” that fandom has become so attached to, so they can profit off of it without writing anything of real essence with it.

Why did I say that the Batfamily isn’t a good concept anymore? Well, because the Batfamily that I first came across in comics included, Bruce, Dick, Alfred, Barbara, Tim and Cassandra. It was rather small and their books interconnected and had pretty solid relationships with one another. Dick and Tim got along and spent time together, Barbara mentored Cass so she could become Batgirl and so on and so forth. The family was smaller and more connected. But they still had problems and bad habits then. So, I liked them as a group of people that worked together and the name they received was “Batfamily” as a way for DC to profit from it.

Right now, the Batfamily is huge, I don’t know if you have seen those splash pages with all the members of it for Rebirth and Infinite Frontier, but those promotional pages were crazy big, characters like Harley and Clownhunter are now considered part of the “Batfamily” and all that. Then there is the kind of characters like Cass, Steph and Kate who are all connected to Batman but that haven’t been appearing in books for very long, so putting them on that page really feels like DC is trying to prove that their “Batfamily” actually has women on it, but it’s just for show.

And then there is Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian, the most recognizable faces of the Batfamily aside from Bruce and Alfred (but Alfred is dead now so he doesn’t really count), all of them have had issues with Bruce or are indifferent to the existence of one another. Yes, Tom Taylor has included Tim in Dick’s book but here is the thing, it feels like he put him there just to make fans shut up about the lack of content with both of them acting as they used to do. But its false and lazy, Taylor just brought Tim to the book but we don’t get to see Tim and Dick interact in ways that can explain why they drifted off, it kinda seems like all those years where Dick and Tim were pulled apart never happened to DC and that makes me think “cash grab”. I would have loved to see them interact again if it meant that we would have some solid story for them to develop their relationship once more.

At the end of Rebirth, Damian was pissed off at Bruce and they had a fight and Damian left the manor completely. Bruce beat up Jason, then gave him a hug but still told him that he was banned from Gotham and all that abuse and manipulation was swept under the rug when DC came out with Urban Legends: Cheer, all they did with that story is lie and made-up stories about Jason wanting Bruce to go on a killing spree so Gotham can finally be the home to his beloved family (lies, lies, lies).

On top of all that we have the neglect, abuse and manipulation that Bruce had going on with Dick, ever since Bruce manipulated Dick into joining Spyral his actions haven’t faced any consequences (the family still believes that Dick was the one who lied about dying). And as recently as the end of Rebirth, Dick suffered from a head injury that left him amnesiac and Bruce absolutely didn’t care enough to look after him when he was so vulnerable and alone. DC had the audacity of having Bruce say that he was looking after Dick while Dick went from one villain manipulating and hurting him to another, and if we look at Batman’s run, we can see that he spent some of that time in a weird pit or playing catch the pussy with Selina in a tropical island.

So, taking all those things into account, I honestly believe that the Batfamily is a concept that absolutely does not belong in comics. If it were to be taken seriously then DC should come up with (organic, not forced) stories that make these characters connect once again, but they have to be careful, just because they can connect it doesn’t mean that everyone gets along and they have group chats and eat dinner together of Fridays, that would be a blatant lie and just too out there for their kind of dynamic, so, they should take things slow, start re-building what once was an make it better (if they want to make it work and feel like less of a cash grab).

I heard that there is a book with Cass and Steph being mentored as Batgirls by Barbara coming out in December, that to me is a good thing, what was done in Robin #5 was awful, Jason didn’t have or want to be there, Tim, what the hell was Tim doing there? The only ones that have gotten along with Damian and have had a solid relationship with him were Dick and Steph. Dick had a very nice moment with Damian in that issue, but Steph didn’t, they preferred to have Jason wanting to hug Damian instead (what the actual hell was that?).

Fandom’s Batfamily:

Fandom is a place where people can take any concept from anywhere and transform it into whatever they please. This fandom is just like any other in that matter, but I have noticed that sometimes the Batfamily Fandom tends to blur the lines between what’s fanon and canon. Their lore is so deep and established among people that they sometimes (willingly or not) make new readers or other people believe that how things and perceived in fandom is how things actually are in comics, and that is a huge problem.

Things like “Dick sent Jason to Arkham when the Joker was just a cell away”, “Jason has pit madness and when he gets mad his eyes turn glowy green”, “Dick was a horrendous brother to Jason before Jason died”, “Jason would be good friends with Tim and Cass”, “Jason is the only one that sees the world differently from Bruce and the other robins because he is the only one that comes from a life with no luxury” and so on and on and on…

All of those things are sometimes treated as the absolute truth by fandom and no matter how many times people have debunked and explained that those things aren’t part of comics’ canon because they are simply not true, fandom stills treats those things as the basis of their Batfamily lore.

That lore would be actually fascinating if people didn’t lose sight so easily of the fact that at the end of the day none of that lore can be applied to comics’ canon.

When you enter this fandom things can be extremely confusing and the way some of the characters are characterized are completely different to their canon characterizations, I knew that the Dick fandom was writing about was not real, but I had no idea that Tim being a coffee addict that hasn’t slept in five months and is an absolute genius in everything and anything that he does was completely out of character for him, I just thought that was true to his character in comics too. Something like that happened to me when I took a peek at Jason’s side of fandom, by that time I had read Red Hood/Arsenal, UtRH and New 52 RHatO (yeah in that order, Red Hood/Arsenal wasn’t finished yet though), with the already conflicting characterizations of those books, the first look that I had at fandom’s Jason confused me even more. After considering all those I decided that the Jason that I wanted to see and actually looked appealing to me was UtRH Jason.

Not all people in fandom read comics and that is ABSOLUTELY VALID, I have zero problems with people not liking the comic characterizations of the “Batfamily” characters, but that in itself also creates a rift between fans themselves.

Fandom’s Batfamily lore being introduced in comics’ canon:

This is obviously the intersection of the other two points and this is the biggest problem that I have with the Batfamily concept. The fandom lore has been leaking into comic’s canon for a while now but right now we are kinda drowning in it. Decisions that have been made recently in DC like, Jason giving up his guns, the group chats in Nightwing issues, the family dinners that were hinted at in Cheer #6, and Bruce having had at the ready a Red Hood suit for Jason with a Batman logo in its chest, have been proof enough that DC is planning on skipping any kind of solid writing for these characters to actually get along. We are never going to see these people sit down and talk about their differences and respect each other’s work ethics.

We are never going to get stories of actual essence that prove that these characters understand and care for each other, we are just going to be told that “all is good” and now everyone loves one another and they will build from there.

That is a problem for me.

And it also takes away duality from Gotham’s vigilantes, I know I say this too much but it’s the truth, putting all these characters under the ruling of Batman makes them all bland. Jason shouldn’t be part of any sort of group that involves Bruce! My god, I don’t want to see them interact anymore! Bruce has been absolute trash to Jason ever since he came back from the dead and I am tired of DC trying to make them be on good terms!

Jason and Bruce not getting along can co-exist with the fact that Jason isn’t a villain to Batman’s legendary hero. Jason is his own character, with his own morals and he doesn’t need a bat symbol on his chest or book logo to be relevant. Same with Dick, Tim and Barbara, let them be characters that can stand on their own because they have already done that!

Barbara as Oracle worked WITH Batman if she wanted, she had her own logo and had passed on the mantle of Batgirl because he had grown out of it.

Dick is Nightwing and has become an even better hero than Batman could even aspire to become, he has contacts with everyone in the DC universe, has led countless teams, he doesn’t NEED a batman logo on his book or to be constantly dragged back to him just to make the Bat more compelling.

Jason, my sweet Jason, he had his own logo! It was gorgeous and then Lobdell had the audacity to stamp a Batman logo in the middle of the book name and in Jason’s chest! Have we gone absolutely mad? Why did they do that? Lobdell’s constant back and forth with Jason and his feelings for Bruce, he respects him and he doesn’t, he kills and he doesn’t… each issue felt like a new take on the character! It was crazy!

And that has happened with everyone in the “family”. I will end this by saying that Bruce/Batman being at the centre of this “Batfamily” dynamic is the most laughable thing in the DC Universe. Batman isn’t family to any of the people that they constantly surround him with, he is a piece of shit.

Anyway Anon, I hope this answer doesn’t ruin your day and that you understand that even though I really don’t like the “Batfamily” concept, you and everyone else are allowed and encouraged to think differently!

Hope you have a marvellous day Anon!

#jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #damian wayne #batfamily #batfam #dc comics #asksss

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urupotter · 3 years

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So while I've said before that I don't like the HP subreddit, I still frequent it because occasionally I read something insightful. This is one such case, where I read a reading of Lupin that I'd never seen before in response to a comment of mine analyzing the shrieking shack confrontation between Snape, Remus, Sirius and the golden trio, where I mentioned that Lupin was a gaslighter so I wanted to share. It was created by reddit user u/UsuallySiSometimesNo and is posted here with his permission. We had a little conversation in the comments. Read it under the cut

UsuallySiSometimesNo: That struck a cord with me, too. I didn't think about that on a conscious level before, but when I read it, it felt instantly true.

Honestly, I think the strongest examples of Lupin gaslighting are actually done to himself. The biggest, character-defining example, I think, is that after finding friendship with James, Sirius, and Peter, he becomes so desperate not to be ostracized from them (due to his issues of self-worth and his personal brand of impostor syndrome) that he deliberately and routinely feeds himself false narratives about their behavior until he can no longer tell fact from fiction, even as he's experiencing it.

Their relentless bullying of Snape? A childhood rivalry.

Their casual bullying of other students? Kids being young and stupid.

Their clear disinterest verging on contempt for Peter, someone less fortunate and vulnerable with whom they're supposed to be good friends? Just mates being mates.

Even actions taken against Lupin, himself, are revised in his memory to be 'no big deal', because he desperately needs that to be true. Let's pretend for a moment that Snape indisputably deserved to be slaughtered by a werewolf the night Sirius told him how to get past the Whomping Willow. Sirius did not send Snape to be killed by any old werewolf. What happened that night was that Sirius - one of Remus' best friends, if not his actual best friend - attempted to use Remus' curse/illness against someone (which is a big enough betrayal on it's own) without ever telling Remus that when he woke up in the morning (covered in blood and in the presence of a shredded corpse) it would be to find that he had committed the act he was most petrified he might one day commit. In setting Snape up to be killed by Lupin, Sirius, at the very least, risked Lupin's sanity, and, at the very most, risked Lupin being sentenced to death.

Now, I understand that Sirius wasn't thinking about all of that when he did what he did, and I, as a someone removed from the situation (and armed with the additional character/situational knowledge granted to a reader) can even understand why Sirius' own trauma led him to grant such a blind death sentence to Snape (which I think is related to a point you made elsewhere, u/Adventure_Time_Snail, about Sirius' "violence towards those who trigger his fundamental fear of wizard fascists" because of his abusive upbringing). But Lupin's perspective is not one of an unbiased observer. And once James found out what was happening and pulled Snape back before it was too late (which, I would think, was more to save Lupin than to save Snape) and once Remus awoke the next to day to discover everything that transpired the night before, I find it hard to believe there wasn't at least some conversation about the true gravity of the situation. And yet, even all these years later, Lupin doesn't bat an eye when Sirius not only doesn't display shame when the event is mentioned in POA, but offers something akin to regret, NOT at the fact that his actions could have gotten Lupin killed, but that that they DIDN'T get Snape killed: "It served him right...", he sneered. etc. etc.

I think the obvious question here, is 'Even disregarding what Sirius did to Snape - how can Lupin be okay with the knowledge that Sirius has no regret, at all, for what he did to him, even now that they're adults?' Well, we're not in Lupin's point of view in the books, which means we can't hear his internal monologue, but I think a satisfactory answer to the question is that he's done a substantial amount of internal gymnastics in order to get to a point where he doesn't see this as a big deal, or even as something that he has a right to be upset about.... just like a gaslighter does to their victim.

Again, because we're not in Lupin's POV, we can't point to the exact instances that such internal gaslighting took place, but, based on what we do observe from Harry's POV (and based on external knowledge of gaslighting as a true-to-life concept) I wouldn't be surprised if Lupin so desperately needs everything to be okay that he derides himself for feeling bad or betrayed, that he calls himself stupid for thinking terrible things that have happened to him are a big deal, that he wars with himself about how people who are his friends and who are so good to him and who are better friends than he thinks he deserves could possibly do something to harm him/others, and that he beats down whatever emotions and senses and gut feelings he has that tells him something his friends have done might be very wrong. What we see in the books is a man who makes excuses for his friends and harbors a warped perception of reality in much the same way victims of gaslighting do, and he seems to exploit his own insecurities in order to instill doubt in his own experiences in much the same way perpetrators of gaslighting do.

I can't help but think that, by the time Lupin tells Harry that Snape harbors a particularly strong hatred for James because James was a better Quidditch player, Lupin has become so adept at gaslighting himself that he actually believes it.

tl;dr: One of Lupin's defining characteristics is that he gaslights himself out of a desperate need to be liked by others, since he has a difficult time liking himself and seems to believe all of his relationships are incredibly fragile.

Urupotter:

This is a fascinating reading on Lupin that I've never seen. I don't read him the same way, in that I think Lupin actually does know that what he's doing is wrong, he just doesn't have the moral courage to act on his conscience. (I view him as the anti Snape, great conscience, but abysmal moral courage, while Snape had unbelievable moral courage but a shitty conscience. Their arcs are about growing their moral courage and their conscience respectively) Realizing that his negligence almost got Harry killed is what triggers his arc, concluding when he goes back to Tonks and Teddy after running away, taking responsibility for his actions for the first time.

But this reading is so interesting that I'll have to reflect on it. Do you mind if I post it on my Harry Potter tumblr blog? I'll credit you of course, I would just like to discuss it with my followers. Of course if you don't want to I won't.

UsuallySiSometimesNo:

Honestly, I think the lack of in-depth conversation about Remus Lupin (at least compared to fan favorites Sirius Black and Severus Snape) is a missed opportunity and a shame. Don't get me wrong, I can discuss Sirius and Snape until blue in the face, but Lupin's arc is just as powerful in an understated (and often underestimated) way. The muddy, oversimplified truth is, without the fatal-flaw decision making of all four Marauders throughout their lives, the series of events proceeding the first chapter of the first book don't happen, and the story we all know and love never comes to be.

And speaking of sparking a discussion about Lupin...

I think Lupin actually does know that what he's doing is wrong, he just doesn't have the moral courage to act on his conscience.

You know what? I agree. And that's what makes him so interesting, I think. He is constantly and dependably full to bursting with internal conflict. When his friends are wrong/do something wrong/say something wrong, he can and does immediately identify the situation as wrong. When he does something wrong, or when he does nothing in the face of something wrong, in that moment I believe he knows the full weight of the situation. Like you said, he has a strong conscience, as well as a deeper, perhaps more nuanced understanding of right and wrong than do, for example, James and Sirius. Now, Lupin needs his friends. They're not just people to hang out with, they're a lifeline for him. He's not going to engage in conflict with them if there is even the slightest chance that he might lose them (for a variety of reasons, he lacks, as you said, the moral courage to do so). But he's also a generally decent human being, and with a strong conscience comes the capacity for sincere guilt and remorse. So, not only will he not confront his friends, he needs it to be okay that he doesn't confront them. And it's at that point that I think the self gaslighting is triggered.

But Lupin is intelligent and nobody's fool, so the gaslighting creates only a thin layer of ice over the problem. Just enough of a cover that he can live with the things he would otherwise deeply regret. I do think he believes the alternative reality he makes for himself to be accurate as long as it isn't really challenged. Crack the ice, though, and we see him express remorse and reveal an underlying awareness of past and present truths. But then the moment is over, and the war between the uncomfortably and full weight of the truth and his need for the companionship of his friends returns, and then the gaslighting begins again, allowing him an easier return to his closest friends (and eventually his closest friend, singular, after the others have been taken from him as was his fear all along) without conflict and with minimal strain on his conscience.

Once Sirius, the last of his original chosen family is gone - truly gone, as opposed to 'located elsewhere' as he was when in prison - following OOtP, suddenly Lupin's arc takes off at a greater speed than at any point prior. He's now literally lost all of the people he'd been terrified of figuratively losing. Although there are still people and things he cares about, he isn't as dependent on any of them as he was on those foundational friendships, and the finality of their absence allows him to finally grow beyond his stifling cycle of reality shifting, confront the truths of his reality and his circumstances, and, as you said, finally take responsibility by returning to Tonks and Teddy - a decision that, ultimately, triggers his death (I don't mean to imply that it was a bad decision or that it's the sole cause of his death, but Rowling has said that being 'out of practice' contributed to his loss at the Battle of Hogwarts, which makes for a fantastic tragedy).

I don't mean to overstate the importance of this theory or imply that it's always present when he's on-stage, and, as with anyone, many other elements, of course, factor into his actions/words/motives. But I think it's a fascinating potential component of his character all the same. If you have more thoughts on this, I love to hear them - and I look forward to reading the discussion on your blog!

So what do you think? Is this a valid reading of Lupin? I'd say it is, but I'm interested in reading my followers thoughts!

#remus lupin #lupin #severus snape #sirius black #moony #padfoot #the marauders #marauders #harry potter #hp #mwpp

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missyasf · 3 years

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Game Of Hearts

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↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 11k

___| Next

Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together!

Side mention: This could be considered a prequel to the current Alice In Borderland. I’m writing based off the Manga bc I was a glutton and couldn’t wait no spoilers will be present as of...

Escapism

noun

the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy ♡

You had known all about this during your short lifespan, as a child you’d often play pretend with your sister that you were movie stars living in a five star hotel rather than the shitty busted up apartment on the wrong side of town. Escapism came in, many forms. It was often a way for people to cope psychologically, simply because sometimes, facing the reality of your situation can be too much for one person to handle mentally.

Or at least, that was the topic of your lecture today in class. The human mind always fascinated you. Even at the young tender age when your mom died and you watched your once cozy little family fall apart piece by piece until nothing was left in its wake.

It was your fascination that drove you now for most things, why? Why, why, why? You always wondered what the motive was behind someone’s actions, not only thing but you wanted to understand them better, to try and sympathize. You were already fairly intuitive in nature. It wasn’t difficult to read people. In fact your line of work made it easy, you’d watch a man who would be excited to be with you reach for his left finger as if used to touching something. A wedding band perhaps?

The lowlife cheater was fairly common in a whore house after all. Or the man who had been pissy this morning behind you in line because you had decided to try something new on the menu and you weren’t fast enough, obviously because he was tardy and woke up late, his shirt unbeknownst to him was button the wrong way and his tie loose and even the way his hair fell were all signs of being late to work.

It was the little things you noticed in people’s facial expressions, the way they moved and spoke. You could read people like a book, and sure sometimes it was useful. But you often wished you weren’t so perceptive. It drove you mad knowing when a potential love interest was no longer interested through a simple text or a friend not wanting to talk by their tone. Sometimes you wished you could just blot it all out, still, you lived like this day in and day out, you were used to this kind of thing and honestly. Friends? Love? Your gaze dropped a little to your feet, the pumps you were wearing a jet black and the heel too high for any respectable woman to ever wear.

...It wasn’t like you ever had any of those in your life and you had struggled to come to terms with the fact that you could survive without that kind of support. Still...it made you envious, the couple happily holding hands on the sidewalk. The group of friends all laughing at a table while they studied. Oftentimes these feelings are muted, but when you’re faced with something you’ve always craved, those muted feelings suddenly become hyperactive in your mind.

It’s pathetic, honestly.

“How dare you! You disgusting slut!”

In this moment however, you were brought back to reality at just what was happening, you squeaked loudly as you dodged the shoe the woman had thrown at you. This was all a regular occurrence, you had a lot of regulars who weren’t the most amazing people but hey, money was money. But along with them they also left a trail which their wives and girlfriends always followed. And then they always blamed you instead of their partner for leaving them for a prostitute despite you never having agreed to anything such as that.

It really wasn’t your fault, you were just trying to make a living while juggling with keeping up your own education, paying your fathers debts, rent and still somehow getting food on the table. What part time college job could provide that?

Prostitution wasn’t a job you would’ve gone into willingly but given the past and your trauma that was already laced in it you had been learning that sometimes because of the trauma we experience, sometimes people go back to that same trauma and actively participate in it as a way of feeling like they’re in control.

That whatever happened before, would never happen again if you were in control. You weren’t sure if you qualified under this category, trauma came in many forms but the one most used as an example in your class was that a study showed that women who were assaulted often develop a kink for consensual non consent as a way of coping with what happened, except this time, it’s in a controlled environment where it can end the moment they want it too.

Again, you weren’t sure you fell into this category, but you often wondered if your line of work was intertwined with your earlier memories when you were younger, if anything it brought comfort to you. Much of it, blotted out now simply because your mind couldn’t take it. Trauma expressed through amnesia was also much more common than many thought, and it’s so small, so easy to miss. After all how can you be aware of something if you have no memory of it anymore?

“Security!” Your manager screeched, two of the bodyguards were already between you and the feral woman who was ready to gut you clean as she screamed hysterically, her husband...your regular....at her side trying to get her to calm down only for her to come to her senses and slap him clean across the face. You didn’t condone violence, but he did have it coming...

You weren’t about to justify cheaters, you couldn’t imagine the hurt someone had to feel that not only did their partner cheat on them, but it was with someone...like you...You had been trying not to put down your job occupation, sex workers were just as valid as anyone else...you knew you would’ve thought this way if it was anyone but you in this position.

You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair, watching the couple get dragged out of the tight space of the brothel, “Jesus christ....didn’t you say you stopped using perfume because of this?” Miki, your manager sighed as she crossed her arms. You didn’t want to say your manager was your friend but she was the closest you had as you’d often complain to her about most of your problems. Sex work often attracted broken people, it wasn’t something she wasn’t used to.

“Yeah, but apparently he never got around to washing his clothes…” You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, “Lipstick stain,” You glanced down at the ruby pink color that stained your skin now, “Fuck...that did hurt.” You rubbed your sore cheek that was still throbbing from where she had first slapped it when she ripped the door open of the room where she got to see with her own eyes you riding her husband.

It had happened so many times now you weren’t even embarrassed about someone walking in let alone a partner. Miki gave you a lopsided smile as she patted your shoulder, “Guess that just pays for being one of the best here. Did you at least get paid.”

You nodded, “Yeah, I always make them pay in advanced but I was hoping to get a tip afterwards...He was a lawyer so you know he had good money.” You sighed, crossing your arms, you were well aware of his partner because a lot of the time he didn’t even come in for sex anymore. It was funny how humans work.

He often felt his wife was overbearing and you had suspected some sort of verbal abuse by the way he talked about her constant screaming. Truthfully, you don’t think he ever intended on cheating with her. He just wanted someone to talk to without being judged, you could relate with sympathy to that, but he unfortunately chose to walk into a brothel instead of a therapy clinic and this truly was the only inevitable outcome. Still, you hope if for anyone’s sake, he gets that divorce for himself.

“Hey I think I’m gonna call it a day. I need to get back to Nanami, she was wanting to talk to me about college applications.” You sighed as you rubbed your neck, ever since she had graduated high school she had been chomping at the bit to start applying for college, maybe to just get out of the house and into a dorm. You couldn’t blame her and if she did that it would lighten your load a little.

Guilt washed over you at the thought as Miki chuckled, “They grow up pretty fast huh? My brother was the same way, except the moment he found out I was a sex worker was the moment he called me a whore and we haven’t talked since. That was probably about five years ago,” She crossed her arms as she sighed, “Crazy how the things we do for the ones we love, never appreciate our effort...I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“If I’m not bruising.” You offered a weak smile as you nodded at her before going back to your room to get changed. Truthfully, you much like anyone else, often wished you could go to a world where reality wasn’t a concept any longer. Where you could lay out in the sun for the whole day and just soak up it’s rays with no worries or trepidations.

But sooner then later everyone had to face their fears. Even you, you supposed. But no matter how hard you fought your demons, they always came back tenfold. Again, you supposed your story was no different from tens of thousands, and yet you all live on regardless. Maybe it’s you who should be the one seeking therapy. Pulling on your jeans and the cropped top over your head before pulling the jacket over your arms and grabbing your bag.

The walk home was as quiet as ever, your hood over your head and earbuds any unwanted attention, it wasn’t too late at night, only eleven PM and your work had just been getting started but that had ruined the night for you and besides, you had already failed a test today, you could use the sleep tonight.

Occasionally you’d hear the sirens of a cop car passing by or a bystander shout, nothing out of the ordinary in this neighborhood. Walking up to the apartment complex you pulled the key from your bag as you unlocked the door. Quietly stepping insides as you shut the door before locking it once more. Your nose wrinkled at the smell of stale air mixed with rotten...something…

If anything, you were always lacking in something, you had been so busy most of the day that you never had time to clean anything leaving the house in a horrible state. Not that you thought this was much of a house.

Walking down the narrow hallway you opened the rickety door with a missing lock as you gave a brief smile to the small clump of bedsheets. Your sister was curled up and on her phone, eyes darting to the door with a hint of fear before she jumped up, “Y/n! You’re home earlier from night shift already!?”

You offered a smile as you set down your bag and nodded, sitting down on the mattress that laid on the floor as you replied, “Yeah, a coworker needed the extra hours so I let them cover for me tonight. Besides, you wanted to talk about college applications?” Your sister was under the impression your late night job was bartending at some hole in the wall downtown, where in all actuality you just went there to drink a few days and talk to the loud and sometimes obnoxious, but good hearted bartender who loved talking about his nerdy underaged friends that couldn’t do anything beside stay and drink soda.

It wasn’t that you didn’t think your sister would accept you, if she knew what you were actually doing. Fear, most times came in many different forms and this was one of them. You simply didn’t want to be judged, even by her. So nobody in your life truly knew who you were, and therefore, how could you hold the expectation for people to accept you into society if you were already self sabotaging yourself?

All philosophy aside, you were simply a lost soul, looking for your way in the cruel reality called life.

“Yes!” Nanami was chipper as always as she squealed, clapping her hands, “I…! I was thinking about applying to the university you attend! Maybe I'll get a grant and move into the dorms there? I already applied for several jobs, I’m just waiting on a callback!”

You offered a small smile as you hugged your knees to your chest, “I think you’d like it there, there’s lots to do around campus. But what will you go in for? The only advice I can offer is be sure it’s what you want to do.”

Nanami’s face faltered a little as she hummed, “Well...I thought maybe working with animals? I’d love to be an assistant surgeon in veterinarian? I know it’s a pretty...sad job but...I really like the idea of being able to heal such innocent things.” Your smile tugged into a gentle one at your sister. She was too tender for this world.

It had been your goal sense the day your mother died that you took care of your sister, it didn’t matter what happened to you. You could rot for all you cared at the end of the day, all you wanted was to look up and see your sister's smile and her happiness in life blossom. She more than anyone deserved it.

“I think you’ll be great at it.” You encouraged as you rested your chin on your hand, always happy to see her bounce in excitement as you yawned, your body was used to your demanding schedule but it was always more than happy to welcome a few extra hours of sleep.”

Hearing the door loudly slam close caused you both to jump, Nanami hurriedly crawled back in bed, pretending to be asleep as you frowned. Your dad must’ve come back home from wherever he was.

“Y/n! Just stay here! Can’t you talk to him later?” Nanami looked scared, she always did when he was around. But you weren’t about to stand down to the bastard any day of the week, you offered a weak smile as you replied.

“It’s fine Nami, I’ll be just a few minutes.” You replied, you knew that she knew, that was probably a lie. But you’d try your best, for her sake at least. But somebody had to put this guy in his place occasionally and it was always you. It results in a lot of screaming sometimes, other times he’d break down in tears or on a bad occasion you’d get shoved to the ground, a few times hit. Nothing major.

Walking out of the room you leaned against the wall of the entrance of the hallway watching your father stumble around in the living room, “Did you finally talk to the loan company?” You called out as you asked, not in a forgiving mood tonight. He had said he’d do this for two weeks in a row. The company that sank your whole family into the ground. The reason your mother couldn’t take it anymore and put a blade to her wrist.

Your father stood up, looking a little wobbly, obviously drunk, “Now listen here little girl I don’t have shit to own to you or anyone else.” You sighed as you tucked your tongue into your cheek, annoyance flowing inside you as you straightened up. You weren’t going to be bullied into being scared of this guy.

“Actually you do,” Your smile twisted into something more sharp, more bitter and sinister as you walked forward, “See, if you hadn’t of gotten involved in something shady like loan sharks we wouldn’t be drowning in debt and mom wouldn’t have killed herself because of you and both your daughters wouldn’t hate you. I know you drink away all our money in some pathetic attempt to escape from the cold reality that you fucked up your whole life and watched your family slip from your fingers while not even trying to do anything other then put us in further shit,” You closed your eyes as you tilted your head, “But the least you could do, is admit that. You owe us at least that for being a total fuck up.”

You opened your eyes to find pure rage brewing in your fathers eyes as you smiled once more, this time a false sense of sickly sweet tone to it as you shrugged, “Or you could live in denial, at this point, there really isn’t anything you can do to get anyone back ♡ ”

You had turned around, planning to tell Nanami that maybe she should go sleep over at a friends house today but you never got the chance, suddenly being slammed into the wall and flecks of spit hitting your face, “I am your fucking father! I deserve respect from you and your worthless sister! Do you know how much I provide for you both?”

Anger splintered through your veins as you grabbed onto his wrists, his fingers digging into your neck as you squirmed, “Like fucking what!? A shitty broken down apartment that your vacant from because you’re too fucking ashamed of yourself to even look at us sober!?”

Much like years in the past you weren’t surprised to hear Nanami cry as she rushed out of the room at the sound of you both screaming, “Stop!” She cried out, trying to break you both up, “Stop! Don’t fight! Why…! Why can’t we all just get along!” She sobbed only for your dad to shove her down making her curl up in defeat.

Alarm bells were triggered in your head at the sight of Nanami on the ground, she had never actually gotten hurt while in your sight and it was triggering something deep inside you as you watched him stalk up to her. Your hands shaking and rage boiling in your mind as you grabbed the closet thing you could find. An empty beer bottle on the table.

Your vision blurred and you don’t quite remember what happened other than glass shattering over his head and the brute force of you shoving something before blood was stained on your hands.

How did you end up sitting against the wall? Why was there….blood on your hands…? Your fingers trembled at the metallic sticky substance. All you could hear were Nanami’s sobs and cries as she frantically pushed herself away from the body slumped on the ground.

“You…! He…!” Nanami’s eyes brimmed with tears as you heard a loud boom making you jump, your eyes darting to the open window where….fireworks, big and bold crashed and crackled before you felt like you were sucked into a vortex making your whole vision black out.

Your head felt fuzzy and there was ringing in your ears as you groaned, curling up into yourself as the darkness beckoned you closer before you forcibly opened your eyes. You were laying against the hardwood floor. Beams of light streaked through the window and you could see dust particles in the air against the shower of sunshine that streamed in.

...Wait...Light? The thought had perplexed your head enough to make you push up from the ground, memories pulling into your mind as your breath became shallow, suddenly looking to the side where...you slumped against the wall. It must’ve just been a bad dream….your eyes flickered to Nanami’s curled up figure...a really vivid dream…? Something wrenched in your gut as you rubbed your eyes. What happened? “Nami…!” You whispered, forcing your muscles to move despite their protest as she whined.

After another moment she reluctantly opened her eyes, flickering around before she suddenly scrambled up, taking a deep breath as if realizing what had happened before, looking towards where your dad once was she frowned, “...I...What…” She seemed just as perplexed as you and if her face was anything to go by, last night had obviously happened, “Is dad…” She looked at the absent place of the floor.

Leaning against the wall your eyes darted around the room, “I guess so…” You silently felt relief at knowing your dad was still very much alive as you leaned back as you closed your eyes, trying to remember what had happened before everything went dark...oh..! The fireworks...had it been a celebration last night? Your brows pinched together, something felt...off...getting up you opened the door to the apartment walking out.

“Y/n? Y/n! Hey! Where are you going!” Nanami called out, quickly chasing after you as you frowned, cars were parked odd and there was no one out on the street...as in...at all...Something was very wrong and you couldn’t figure out what.

“Wow...it..must be a slow day…” Nanami felt a sense of discomfort at the lack of life as you both walked down the side walk, it didn’t just feel like a slow day it felt, apocalyptic. As if humanity just left on it’s own leaving nothing but an empty city behind. Cars were parked on the curb and a few even left in the street.

“No, it’s like everyone vanished...This is really weird.” You wrapped your arms around yourself as you frowned, looking around as you came closer to where typically it would be a booming part of the downtown but it was empty, just as everything before.

“Well, maybe it’s a national holiday?” Nanami rubbed her head, trying to make sense of the situation just as much as you, surely everyone wasn’t...gone...right? She looked around as she bit her lip, second guessing herself at all the cars that were vacant, “Hey Y/n.”

You paused as you looked at your sister, curving an eyebrow as she offered a weak smile, “What if everyone got raptured away like they talk about in christanity?” Your expression flattened as she giggled, obviously getting a rise out of you as you crossed your arms.

Raptured? Where? To heaven? “Wouldn’t it be fire and brimstone then if that was the case?” Nanami pouted at your words as you shrugged, snickering yourself at her expression, the tables now turned as you sighed, “I don’t think there’s anyone left in Tokyo...I mean, it feels like...we’d have seen someone by now...right?”

“Well…” Nanami frowned once more, a little disturbed at your words as she spoke, “There’s no way everyone could be gone I mean, where would they go? And how could we miss something like that...Maybe the police found us and now we’re under some weird simulation.”

Chills spilled down your spine as you shoved her making her whine, “Don’t say that! That makes me feel all weird…! I didn’t…!” You cut yourself off, you didn’t what? Murder your own dad in cold blood...you looked down at your hands, they were free of any blood but it still felt like something like sin lingered. Like no matter where you went, it would always be stuck to you.

You didn’t like this, not one bit. Briefly you felt the urge to go hunt down your dad, he was a deadbeat but you would never...you’d never kill him....Right?

“Well…” Nanami hummed her eyes scanning ahead before they jumped to the mall that was up ahead, “Hey…! If nobody is here...maybe we could make use of it! Come on! Let's go!” You yelped at her grabbing your arm before dragging you ahead. Cars were all parked and yet not a single person exited through the mall's entrance. Something just felt off! You wrapped your arms around yourself as you warily looked around the empty mall, “Nanami I really don’t like this!” You looked around, concern bubbling inside you as she ran ahead into the store, digging through the section of clothes as she giggled.

“Relax! I doubt any of this is real and even so…! Who’s going to stop us!?” She shrugged as she bounced in excitement, “Oh my god! I had dreamed of something like this happening! Now we can do whatever we want! Go wherever we want! Y/n!” She gasped with a smile, “Now we don’t even have to worry about money!”

“We don’t even know if this is permanent.” You looked around warily, not partaking as she began plucking off the racks, “Regardless of what this is, I don’t like it. I want to go back home, our home. This just doesn’t…” You shook your head, “This just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well you can feel that way!” Nanami clacked her tongue as she gave a childish smile, “But I’m gonna go through this whole store and get a new wardrobe so feel free to sit on the bench and tell me what you think looks good!”

Looking away you sighed, unable to pinch the anxious feeling you had away as you sat down reluctantly as Nanami went into the changing room. Well...at least she was smiling and she was happy...With each outfit Nanami tried out and giggled, you giggled with her and maybe things weren’t so bad after all…

“What a perfect day.” Nanami hugged you close as she sighed, yawning as you looked up at the sky in awe, you had seen a single star while living in Tokyo before, but now it was filled with constellations and millions of stars that stretched for miles. You could stare at it for days and days. The sun had just set a little over half an hour ago and you were ready to retire and find something to eat at the apartment.

You and Nanami had tried going to the food court but much to your dismay everything had been...rotten...soiled and ruined, meaning there was no point in trying to find anything there and you were getting really hungry despite devouring bags of chips you had both got at the convenient store, another thing that stood out to you was that there was no electricity...at all..

Looking back up to the sidewalk something caught your eyes...was that…! Light!? “Hey! Nanami look!” You shook her making her squeak as she looked up ahead, “It’s the hospital! They have electricity there which means there’s other people! Of course! Why didn’t we think to check essential areas!? Come on! Lets go! I wanna figure out what happened.”

“Alright! It sucks that this is already over but at least I can finally charge my phone, the battery is pretty low.” Nanami nodded in agreement as you both made your way up the road.

The walk wasn’t too far and you felt excitement fill you at the sight of the hospital all lit up as you walked into the entrance, a frown slowly setting on your lips once more as you walked past the receptionist desk and…! Oh there’s other people!

You felt relief wash over your as you ran up, there were at least seven other other people here at least! “Hey! Guys oh my god. I thought everyone was gone! What’s going on?” You asked, smiling bright in relief that you and Nanami weren’t the only ones left behind. Was this some kind of evac point or…?

Silence ensued and you slowly began to frown as you felt everyone stare at you as if you were insane, “Um…” You wrapped a hand around your arm, suddenly feeling as if everyone knew something you didn’t, “What’s going on…?” You furrowed your brows as you tilted your head, unsure of why everyone was looking at you like this.

Somebody looked like they were going to talk to you, a guy relatively around your age but a woman stopped him- his girlfriend maybe? “Stop, the less that know the better chance we have.” She said quietly though you still heard just enough. Fear twisted inside you as you took a cautious step back...The...the less you knew?

“Wow, you guys are assholes,” A girl suddenly whistled out, she was sitting in a waiting chair, a cowboy hat on her head paired with distressed jeans and...a bikini top? Strange but you’d roll with it if it meant getting answers. She stood up as she offered a smile, “Akari, nice to meet ya’. You folk must be new to the Borderlands huh?” She jutted her bottom lip a little as you frowned.

“Um I’m Y/n and this is my sister Nanami...?” You introduced yourself despite feeling confused as you raised a brow, “Borderlands…?” You echoed, what was that supposed to be? Other than Tokyo?

Akari gave a nod as she let out a brief chuckle, as if amused by your confusion but you sensed she had no real ill will unlike....your eyes checked to the couple that stood off in the corner on their own, “That’s what they call it here,” She nodded in affirmation as your eyes darted back to her in confusion, “To be frank with ya’, I don’t have a damn clue what's going on. Nobody does. But ever since you crossed the threshold there’s no going back, so I’ll be brief. We’re all considered outsiders here and we participate in games at venues such as this to extend our stay.”

Nanami and you looked at one another confused as Akari waved you over to the table in front of a TV, “Here, you’ll wanna put these on, it’s for the game.” She explained as you carefully picked up the metal bracelet, something about it felt ominous as you reluctantly put it on, jumping at the way it latched together and there was no getting it off now, “Word of advice, just don’t panic and you probably won’t die.”

“What?!” You screeched as Akari smacked your back, panic evident in your voice as you turned around to face her making her laugh again, this girl was insane! She had to be! “You’re…! You’re joking!”

Akari wrinkled her nose as she tilted her head, “Ah shit, I wish I was- Oh…! There’s the last player!” Just on que everyone turned to look at who had arrived, someone heaving breaths with their hands on their knees as if they had sprinted. You were mildly worried at why he seemed so scared but you had a feeling that was the least of your problems right now.

“Y/n what’s going on…?” Nanami frightened grabbed your arm as she hid a little behind you due to all these immensing strangers that looked like they were ready to feed you to the sharks, literally.

The guy walked past you both as he put on his bracelet, your eyes sharp as you watched it latch together automatically, your gaze jumping to everyone's wrists to notice you were all now wearing one. The TV suddenly lit up.

Game

You squinted your eyes a little at the sight of the screen, just what were you about to unwillingly participate in…?

Difficulty: 5♣

“The game you will be participating in is, Monster under the bed.”

A playing card? Monster under the bed? Your brows furrowed as you looked at Nanami who shrugged a little despite her concerned expression, looking just as confused as you. You could’ve made a joke out of this, surely it would’ve been easier. Maybe everyone would bust out laughing and you’d be at the end of a poor joke but...somehow you felt that wasn’t the case. Thus paying very close attention to whatever was on this screen,

“Everyone will be sectioned off into pairs by the number chosen on your bracelet, when the doors to the ward open you will have three rounds ten minutes each to figure out who is the monster under the bed that must be returned to its own, once the ten minutes is up you must hide before you are found. If the selected pair that is the monster is chosen correctly it’s a Game Clear. If the monster is not found by the end of the third round or if the pair fails to hide it’s a Game Over.”

Rules:

Once the doors are open you and your partner must find a hiding spot by the time limit

Both partners must be hidden. If one is exposed to the monster it’s a Game Over for both partners

There will be an X marked on the ground to place the monster of your guess onto.

You will have three rounds of ten minutes each to find the monster.

Any attempt to remove bracelets results in a Game Over

If the monster is not found by the third round a Game Over.

The only Game Clear condition required is for the monster to be returned by the third round.

What…

What!?

“Now the game will commence, you have five minutes to figure out who you have been paired up with before the doors open.”

Your mind was blanking as you watched everyone look down at their bracelet, hurriedly you lifted your arm as your mind blanked 2 looking back at Nanami her lips were already quivering as she sniffled lifting her arm in defeat as your lips dropped open, 5.

“Hey! Guess you’re my partner!” Akari grinned as she wrapped an arm around Nanami who sniffled, “Oh…” She looked between you both, “Oh! Oh don’t worry! We’re not the monster so I’ll make sure your sister lives! You should go find your partner.”

Your hands trembled unsure of what to do before you went to hug Nanami, “Whatever happens just stay calm okay! I need to go find my partner now!” You whispered, kissing her cheek as she sniffled while nodding.

Everybody was shuffling around looking for their partner now, you passed by a few people, 4, 1, 3...did you even have a partner…? You scanned around, your throat tightening a little in panic, there had to be a mistake! There were only 8 people surrounding you- you yelped at the tight grip that suddenly held your arm forcing you to turn around to be met with a white hooded figure, a lollipop handle hanging and earbuds in before sighing, “So it appears I’m stuck with someone useless.” The man concluded as he stood up making you back away a little as your lips parted somewhat indignantly.

How...how rude! You looked up, unable to fully make out his face but you could tell you didn’t like him one bit, “I’ll…! First of all I’m not useless! I’m just trying to understand what's going on! This is insane! We aren’t actually going to die from this, are we!?” Pushing his hood down you were immediately met with a snide gaze and cat eyes that leered at you like you were nothing more then dirt beneath his feet, long blonde hair pushed behind his shoulders and his bangs hanging low, suddenly a viscous side smile appeared on his lips, “Apparently so, otherwise I wouldn’t have watched half my last game get their brains blown out and the other half hung.”

You reeled a little away from the blonde, your face dropped in semi horror, unsure if this was just a sick joke or he was serious. You searched his face a thousand times over, but for the first time in your life, you couldn’t figure out what his goal was. You couldn’t figure out anything about him, except he was exceptionally cold, “Well I don’t suppose I have much choice to doubt you,” He said with an annoying sing song tone as he rattled his wrist that showed the bracelet with a matching 2 on it, “My name is Chishiya, just stay out of my way and we’ll both live.”

How arrogant! You scoffed as he walked past you, not the least bit bothered at your offense as you whipped around, glaring at his back. How come out of everyone you got stuck with the most…! Pompous! Arrogant! Ugh! You crossed your arms as you followed behind him, stilling secretly sending daggers into his back with your eyes as everyone shuffled into the ward.

Hospital beds were scattered around the room, a few closets and one large vent at the bottom right corner of the room ahead.

“Wait, what is this?” The first person to speak was a fair thin older gentleman, he appeared friendly as he observed the room around him, everyone looked around in confusion as you noticed what he meant.

Any possible hiding spot was covered by either sheets of metal or locked tight...How were any of you supposed to hide if…!? The rules mentioned nothing about solving puzzles to gain access to a hiding spot!

“Forget that,” Another man said with a sneer he was broad and a bit older, well into his late twenties at least, perhaps a gym coach? Or maybe a wrestler of some sort? He looked like he could break you and nearly every other person in this room like a twig, “We need to figure out who’s the monster. “ He cracked his knuckles as you leered a little away and nobody spoke for a second.

Of course, who would out themselves as the monster, more importantly, how does one even know they’re the monster? You could immediately feel tension rise as the previous, more patient man spoke, a little more collected, “How about we just check one another's’ watches! If anywhere it would show us on that! One pair should work on solving these puzzles here so everyone has a place to hide”

“Unless the monster is among us and it sabotages us so we all die by the time limit.” The girlfriend crossed her arms as she darted her eyes around. Truthfully you didn’t know what to believe, the wording on the soundbox was rather confusing as to just what were you looking for. Was the monster supposed to be in the group or it’s own entity?

“If that were the case it would’ve showed up on our watches, which it didn’t. So that won’t work.” Chishiya spoke matter of fact, his tone cool as his eyes gazed across the room before he walked away from the group inspecting various hiding spots granted you didn’t think he was about to help anyone but himself, if anything you were at least lucky that him securing a hiding spot meant it was one for you as well.

You looked at everyone in confusion, some arguing while others scattered to look for a hiding spot as the clock ticked down. You breathed in relief at the sight of Nanami and Akari both going for a bed to hide under. Your gaze finally found Chishiya’s form before following him, unsure of what you were supposed to do, if anything outside trying to figure out just what the monster even was.

You glanced up at the digital clock that stood above the entrance you had just come in from, it was already a minute in before you searched the floor where you found a red X in the center of the room, that must’ve been the...what? Offering spot? You cringed a little at the idea. Looking forward you peered behind Chishiya’s shoulder deciding to not think about that, it seemed the metal sheet that had wrapped around the bed and was sealed to the ground was locked by some sort of metal device…? Contraption? Lock?

“Isn’t hiding under a bed a bit obvious…?” You frowned as you crossed your arms, unsure as you looked behind your shoulder once more to where accusations were already being thrown in the group.

“The vent is a decoy to make you waste time, I already checked,” Chishiya replied, his fingers nimble as they rattled the metal, “And even if someone were to accomplish it in the time limit it’s the most obvious spot the monster would first check. Next would be the closet given it’s at eye level and the first thing one is drawn too when they walk into a room.”

Your lips parted a little in surprise at his assessment...obviously he wasn’t just overconfident, “And why this spot?” If he had really thought about all this in less than a minute then...did he have a reason for this spot? You now found yourself, slightly less annoyed and a little more curious as to what was going on in his mind.

“If the monster were to check a bed it would be after his eyes are drawn to the closet. Next in that line of sight would be the vent directly across it, which would be his next place to look if not his first and vice versa. The beds are all staggered throughout the room making them less conspicuous compared to the other hiding places, the bed on the far end of the room would be no good.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity at his assessment as you watched Chishiya blow a piece of hair from his face, wiggling out one piece of the knotted metal, “It’s too far from the entrance where as the one in the middle is by average the one most people would start with, where as the first? It’s almost too soon in the start to look there thus making it the safest.”

“It’s them! They’re over there conspiring!” You both twisted around to watch the broad man point an accusing finger at you both as your eyes darted from him to the clock on the wall, which read at six minutes. A few other pairs, relievingly so was your sister had started working on a hiding spot while a few others stood around and argued.

Your face coiled a little as you replied, not appreciating the accusation to such a baseless accusation, did they not realize the longer they argued the less time they had to secure a hiding spot? “Someone who’s terrible at playing the minority would often be the first to point fingers. There’s only six minutes left before the first round is over and we need to hide. But if you want to talk about this then sure,”

You stepped closer as you crossed your arms, scanning over him before continuing, “Let’s talk about the chances of you being the monster, ever since you first came in you’ve been all twitchy and acting like something is wrong. Even when we first got paired up, you seemed a little panicked. Anyways,” You turned around as you spoke, “How do we know one pair is a monster and not one single person?”

“Eh,” Akari sat on the bed that her and Nanami chose as Nanami fumbled to work out the puzzle, she had always been good at those! You felt assured as your heart beat frantically at the idea of them not being able to get a hiding spot in time, “Let’s all calm down,” She gave an awkward laugh, “This isn’t a hearts game, we shouldn’t divide our trust. This is a team building after all which means this game should be making us work together, the last thing we need to do is throw that away on our own accord.”

“...Team building?” You frowned as you murmured having not been aware that this was some sort of game category...Hearts? Clubs? The memory of the playing card flashing on the screen appeared in your mind again, right...was that to stand for some kind of game genre? If Clubs stood for team building then...there should be no reason that the monster is any of you. Why would they even suggest that to begin with?

Then...what was the monster?

“One minute remaining.”

The lights suddenly began flickering, “Got it.” Chishiya yanked the last piece of metal undone as he pulled the sheet of metal off, everyone was now scrambling and the few who had not done their puzzle were now panicking. Getting down you crawled under the bed, your back flat to the ground as you inhaled sharply as you noticed the lights beginning to dim, “This is...uncomfortable.” You mumbled, trying to ignore being pressed shoulder to shoulder with a man you didn’t even know besides him having a god complex, “We should’ve went with the vent.”

“By all means, if you want to try and get yourself killed already. Go for it.” You turned to look at him, dark endless cat eyes meeting you as you harshly glared at him, why was he so condescending!?

You were about to snap back something before you realized it was completely dark and the door slammed open causing you to jump. Was your heart always this loud? You could see the heavy boots step against the ground making you unsteadily inhale, swallowing as you closed your eyes. You could only place your trust that Chishiya hadn’t picked a horrible spot.

More importantly your mind was plagued with worry for your sister, you had been so caught up you hadn’t even tried to help her yet...did she even…! You heard a sudden loud scream from two people causing you to stiffen as you looked up at the bed frame lined with wooden planks. You could only cower back down at blood suddenly painting the floor.

Your stomach suddenly churned as you covered your mouth. So he wasn’t lying. Chishiya however looked just as nonpulsed as he did when he first told you himself, his eyes blankly staring up at the bed frame as if this was just a regular game of hide and seek as people screamed as they were torn apart.

Or that’s at least what you assumed it was.

After an agonizing few minutes the doors finally closed and the lights flickered back on making you breath in relief as you waited a moment, could you even bear to face what was waiting on the floor? You winced a little before something caught your eye. What was with all this extra wood stuck in the frame?

Chishiya had already gotten out from under the bed and before you suddenly heard a few girls scream, your sister among them making you puff and breath as you scrambled from beneath the bed.

Standing up your mouth agape at the horrid sight of the female and the broad male that had been too focused on accusing others, they didn’t have...enough time...it looked like they had been completely mutilated, blood pouring on the floor and the smell made you want to gag as you looked away.

“Well, now what do we do.” Akari scratched her head, also not looking phased that two people had just been brutally killed. Your eyes stayed placed on the bodies before they slowly trailed to your hands, the memory of blood staining them still fresh in your mind.

“Well we have to figure out where the monster is?” The girlfriend of the couple spoke up, she looked around somewhat suspiciously, “But I’m not sure where we could find it? Maybe it has to do with the bracelets? Maybe there’s a clue hidden.”

“Oh what about in the cabinets?” The collected man from before offered as he went to search the cabinets, your frown furthered as you glanced around. Everyone was now getting along, still on edge but along at least.

Chishiya only leaned against the wall, his hands in his pocket as he rolled the lollipop in his mouth, his gaze the same steely one it was before as if he had done his job in securing his temporary salvation and was now done.

Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do? It was obvious his strength didn’t lie in teamwork, clearly. But then again, you weren’t sure what was going on, you couldn’t get a read on him. Crossing your arms you stayed beside him, your eyes briefly washing over your sister who was working Akari to dig through a desk together.

“Cabinets and drawers are too obvious.”

Chishiya’s eyes flickered to your figure, his expression just as cold if not...a little smug maybe? He said nothing in return as you continued, “If we’re looking for a monster, it’s obvious it’s a metaphor for something. Inanimate most likely,” Your eyes flickered around the room, inhaling sharply, why did it feel like the answer was right in front of you?

Think…! You glanced at the clock, only six minutes left. The rounds were really short…! “It’d be something small and inconspicuous, something that’s in plain sight….but easy to miss...and the game said it was a pair which means there’s more than likely two.”

“Three,” You glanced at Chishiya as he spoke, pulling the lollipop from his mouth, that permanent smug look on his face as he answered, “Two is what they want you to think and if you spend a round searching for each like they hope it’s game over by three.”

You rubbed your neck as you frowned, “It’s already the second round and we haven’t even found one…” You glanced around before you suddenly perked up, “Wait…!” Getting back down on the floor you laid on your back as you pushed yourself under the bed, “Chishiya! Help me get this thing out!”

Within a moment the blonde appeared as well, his eye sharp and keen as they noticed straight away what you were tugging at, “You think this is the monster?”

You looked at him as you raised a brow, “We have less than four minutes left on our second round, you have a better idea?” Chishiya said no more but helped regardless, successfully with the both of you maneuvering it around from beneath the wooden boards you managed to get it out.

Holding it up you looked at it, “It’s a poppet doll.” You turned to face him as you smiled in accomplishment, “They’re typically used as curses to place upon people in folklore. If anything is a monster, this would be it.”

Excited at your first victory you pulled out from beneath the bed as you waved it up, “Hey guys! We need to start looking for something similar to this! If not a replica.” Everyone huddled around you examining the doll before the microphone sounded, “One minute remaining.”

Everyone had immediately scrambled back to their hiding place as you ran to the red X, placing the poppet on it, that's the reason that had to be there right!? You’d just have to see, hurriedly you ran back to your spot under the bed. Making it just in time as the lights flickered off.

The door slamming open once more as you slowly inhaled, it had to work right? If not...then you were at a loss for what to search for and you were utterly screwed.

The boots stomped against the floor past the bed as you closed your eyes, unable to calm yourself. After a moment you heard a screech and something rip open before screams followed making you jump. Chishiya’s eyes were on the feet that stood by the closet that had been obviously ripped open.

You heard the sound of something wet and a gurgle before a body slumped to the floor and you could hear begging before something got snapped in half causing you to close your eyes once more...Did you make it angry!? Was that not it? Fuck. You had never felt this stressed before as it roamed around, passing in front of your bed as you tensed.

Was this your last moment alive? Truly?

Much to your relief, the door closed once more before the lights followed, flickering on, relaxing a little you sighed as you reluctantly got out from underneath the bed with Chishiya to see what had happened. Much to your horror it was the man who had been so kind this whole game and his partner.

The monster didn’t check anywhere in the first round, yet he did this round? You tried to block out the bodies slumped in the corner as you glanced at the red X, the poppet doll gone.

“Why- why were they killed!” Nanami’s eyes began to water as she grabbed her head, “This makes no sense!”

“If it accepts the doll that means we only need two more. What happened to them is irrelevant.” Chishiya stuffed his hands back into his pocket as you glared at him sideways, not appreciating his careless tone. You could deal with it, but you didn’t want your sister dragged into it.

Grabbing your chin you thought about it for a moment, “Well...the game said to return the monster to its own and…” You glance down at the X, was there some kind of unsaid rule that if you didn’t get all three of them on the first try that it would start hunting down players? “How would a mother feel if they only returned one of its children?”

“This thing doesn’t have feelings,” The girlfriend of the partners replied coldly, her eyes like steel of her own as she clung to her boyfriend, “It’s as he said,” She waved to Chishiya, “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be like them if we don’t figure this out.”

You glanced around the room, “Tell me this, if it doesn’t matter, then why did they give us all these different hiding spots?” Everyone was silent, all eyes on you as if your question didn’t make any sense, your eyes flickered to the clock that was nearing eight minutes, you didn’t have time to monologue, “No think about it. The monster never intended to look for us- that was never stated in the rules. So why did they give us all of these choices if we only needed one per pair? My point being, if we found one poppet in our hiding spot then...You get where I’m going with this? Chishiya.”

He glanced up at you acknowledgement as you curved a brow, your lips threatening to tug into a smile as you tilted your head, “How confident are you in solving that vent?”

He glanced back down and for the first time, you watch a cocky wide smirk twist onto his lips, “You’re lucky to have someone as smart as me here to be able to open it.” You tucked your tongue into your cheek as in annoyance as he sauntered over to the vent already getting to work, “As for everyone else, we need to open up as many of these as possible to find the other two.”

Everyone immediately scrambled to get to work, with only seven minutes on the clock this was...going to be difficult. First Nanami and Akari searched all the opened spots as you worked on another bed. Rubbing your head as muttered, “Shit...I never was good with puzzles.” You awkwardly hung your head in defeat temporarily, briefly letting your eyes shift to Chishiya who was fiddling with several locks, his gaze sharp and you couldn’t even imagine all the calculations going on in his mind. You were somewhat envious of what it would be like to be that perceptive to anything adhering to logic and solution.

“Aha! Found one!” Akari yanked the poppet from the top of the closest as Nanami covered her mouth, looking like she was gonna throw up being so close to so many dead bodies. You ignored the grisly sight at the second victory of the poppet doll. Akari quickly placed it on the X as you began to work on the puzzle once more, looking up at the clock. Oh no...Oh no there was only three minutes left!

“Chishiya! Hows that puzzle coming along.” You called out, trying not to sound alarmed but you could see the clear cut annoyance on his face as he continued working through the locks, “If you’d like to help while struggling on a novice lock feel free.” He replied condescendingly, not appreciating the pressure.

You rolled your eyes with huff as you finally managed to get it undone, feeling triumphant as you searched under the bed but there was no luck, “There’s nothing here!”

“Or here!”

Several people called out as well as you rubbed your head, standing up, “If the only other place that hasn’t been searched is the vent then maybe there’s only two? It did say a pair.” You felt a lump of anxiety well in your chest at the sight of the clock ticking close to a minute and half.

“Should we really take the risk?” The boyfriend asked as he rubbed his neck, concern on his face as he looked around, “If we’re wrong then we’ll all…”

You hadn’t even thought of that…

“...! Hey.” You turned to Chishiya who seemed to be trying to get your attention making you immediately come over, if he was asking for you it’d have to be for something important given there was nearly less then two minute on the clock, “Hold this right here.” He immediately pushed your hand onto the lock right where he wanted it, “This is a two handle mechanism meaning that there needs to be two people unlocking it. Push down and out at the same time.”

“Hide! Everyone needs to hide now!”

The lights were beginning to flicker as everyone scrambled to hide, stress evidently put on your shoulders now more than ever. You could only hope he was right with your life on the line, “Now!” You pushed down on your side, the lock sliding as you pulled out, pulling a piece of metal holding up the lock directly out as Chishiya did the same with his side.

The lock fell off as well as the metal of the gate of the vent, you immediately with no hesitation leaned inside it was dark and hard to make it out anything besides the steep drop off. So he was right, this was a waste of time for a hiding place.

Looking down you caught sight of wood before laughing in relief, “It’s here! Wait shit! Chishiya! It’s too far down in the vent, you’re gonna have to lower me down to reach it. Time?”

“Forty five seconds.” You felt unfamiliar hands on your hips lifting you up as you were lowered down, “We have time.”

You squinted trying to see as you reached down, “Lower me further! I’m not quite in reach,” Your muscles began to ache in your shoulder as you reached harder, growling in frustration, “Time!?” You were lowered a little further, the wooden poppet brushing against your fingers.

“Thirty seconds! Could you go a little faster?”

“Could you lower me a little quicker- Ah! Hey did you almost let go!?” You snarled back, grabbing the poppet doll, giving a good yank as it lodged in between the crevice it was in, “Get me back up! I got it. Time!”

“Twenty seconds.” Chishiya called back, pulling you up as you gasped, pain from the metal jabbing into your stomach evident as you were met with a darkening room. Setting your feet firmly on the floor your eyes flew to the flock fifteen seconds and your spot was all the way across the room….!

“Where are we supposed to hide!? We can’t get all the way there in time!” You hissed out running to the X as you dropped the poppet down. The lights shut off as the final five seconds counted down and before you could do anything you were shoved to the floor as you squeaked. Your body throbbing in pain and your mouth immediately covered as you were met with the coverage of a bed but neither one of you were bold enough to try and scramble beneath it as the doors slammed open.

Fuck.

Your whole body was tense as your eyes squeezed shut, you were just a little ahead of the X here, if this is all the poppet dolls...they’d have no reason to go further into the room...unless...Your hand squeezed tight around the wrist of the hand that covered your mouth as you tried to calm yourself at the loud thudded footsteps.

It was quiet for a moment before you heard more walking before the doors closed.

“Game Cleared”

The lights turned on as you fell limp against the side of the bed, Chishiya’s hand removed from mouth as you pushed your hair from your face, closing your eyes as you breathed in relief, “Holy shit.” Was all you could mutter to yourself, you had never been more grateful to breathe air in your whole life.

“I guess you weren’t that useless after all huh.” Chishiya clacked his tongue as you turned your head to look at him, raising your brows as your face contorted into something between insult and amusement.

You’ve only known this man for a half an hour and yet...something about his words, if you dug down deep past that smug expression of his, was this a compliment? Looking away you pressed your tongue into your cheek, trying to keep from smiling, “Yeah, and you’re still conceited and arrogant but, I guess you have a good reason to be.” You glanced back at him again but you could hardly hold his gaze, something in that brief moment was electrified between you both as you laughed somewhat sheepishly, closing your eyes as you looked away once more.

What the fuck was even wrong with you? If this was back before today you would’ve totally kicked this guy in the balls and went about your day.

“Y/n!” You straightened up at the sound of Nanami’s voice, your expression brightening as you stood up, quickly running to her as you hugged her tight, “I can’t believe that just happened…” She whispered to you as she pressed her face into your neck. You couldn’t either but, you were thankful you had survived this game. Whatever it was.

“Come on, let's get out of this room.” You tugged on her arm, no longer wanting to be in this death room despite knowing it was all over. Pulling her out you paused at the sight of the TV and a...register…? You bracelet unlocked as you took it off, tossing it on the table as you tilted your head.

“Congratulations Game ''Clear ``.''

“...Now issuing visas to those who survived the game…?” You furrowed your brows as you glanced at Nanami who rubbed her head in confusion. You grabbed the receipt as you looked it over with a frown before picking up the 5 of clubs playing card along with it. Odd.

“It’s how many days you’re allowed to stay now! Almost a whole week, that's a good score for a first game!” Akari called out as she patted your back making you jump a little.

Almost a whole week…”Until we have to play again to...continue our stay?” You raised a brow, deciding not to ask what happens if you refused. While you had many questions, you had a feeling you knew the answer to that one.

A part of you couldn’t even believe this had happened, or was it all still a dream.

“Hey…! Sorry for all of that in there,” You turned to see...oh…! It was the boyfriend of the partner, the gifrlfriend stayed behind looking brooding, “I’m Ryu and that’s my girlfriend Hiroko I was...ah…” He faltered a little, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flittered to his girlfriend who was glaring him down, “You should stop by the Beach- I...I think you guys would make good additions! Bye!” He hurried not even finishing his original sentence before scurrying off making you furrow your brows at what he even meant.

“The hell?” Akari raised a brow as she watched the guy run off, “Seems to me he wanted to chat more…guess we know who's really pulling balls in that relationship.”

Nanami suddenly snickered, covering her mouth as she giggled, “Hey Akari! Why don’t we stay together! We did really well in the game together!”

“Awh shit, if you guys really want me too!” Akari offered a quirky smile as you laughed, you had no problems with someone staying behind with you. Looking past Akari your smile faded a little at the sight of a white hoodie exiting the entrance.

“Hey- I’ll be right back!” You pushed past the both of them who paid you no mind as you pushed out of the exit and down the stone steps, not sure why your feet were making you chase after such an egotistical man but…!

“Chishiya!” You called out, making the man pause, he turned around, pulling the earbuds out as he glanced up from his hoodie, raising his brows in acknowledgement, “Um…” Why did you even chase after him…? You stepped down the last step as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

It was silent for a moment as you berated yourself internally for why you seemed so speechless all of a sudden. Chishiya however didn’t seem to mind, his eyes absent now as he stared up at the hospital, “I used to do my clinical rotations here.”

You were broken out of your silent thrashing of internal humiliation as you raised your brows, lips parting in curiosity as you asked, “You were a doctor?”

“No,” Chishiya snorted, that amused calico look of his on his face once more as he looked down at you, “I was a medical student. Training to be a doctor but that obviously didn’t happen…” His lips curved into a frown, his eyes cold once more as they looked back up at the building, “I came here tonight to see if anyone I knew would be here.”

“Oh…” You looked away, feeling somewhat awkward and unsure of how to reply to him as silence took over once more beside the occasional rustling of the wind in the tree’s, the urge to speak overtaking you to the point you couldn't resist, “Chishiya...I…” You looked away, feeling somewhat bashful, “We...made a really good team back there.” You forced yourself to look up at him as you offered a bright yet subtly shy smile, “If you want...you could stay with us…?”

Chishiya pulled the lollipop stick from his mouth, letting it drop to the ground as he spoke, “No thanks.” You turned to him in surprise as you frowned a little, you shouldn’t have expected anything less…

“Oh...I understand.” You offered a weak smile as he turned his back on you and began to walk once more, “I just have one more question,” You called out causing him to pause, “...Do you by any chance know about a place called the Beach?”

Note: Whew...! As a lurker in the Alice in borderland fandom I saw a lot of people complaining about the lack of Chishiya fics so I decided to volunteer myself and take on for the team to write a series for this little blonde fucker so PLEASE let me know your thoughts and I hope you enjoy!! Also

#alice in borderland #aib #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland x reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya x reader smut #shuntaro chishiya #shuntaro chishiya x reader #aib imagine #aib x reader

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chainofclovers · 3 years

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Grace and Frankie 7x1 - 7x4 thoughts

Meh? Like...I love them so much, but...meh?

(I did enjoy this line about brunch.)

I really loved season 6 of Grace and Frankie. I thought it was well-paced, largely very well-acted, generally well-written, and it culminated in a massive moment of character development for the title characters, who, having spent years growing closer and being there for each other when others could not or would not be, finally articulate to each other that they are the primary person in each other’s lives. Platonic gal pal soulmate BFF emotional support witches 4 lyfe!

I know progress isn’t always linear, and in fact is very rarely linear, but after a moment that significant, you’d think the writers on this show would maybe come up with some more interesting things for these characters to do than spin in circles?

@bristler and I watched on Friday night, and just this morning over breakfast had a good conversation about the first four episodes of the new season now that they have settled in our brains a bit. We concluded that the writing (often noticeably clunky, like the dialogue is responsible for more narration than usual) and the tone (aggressively wacky) feel really off, especially compared to the prior season. I think we diagnosed the big issue, which is that Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda are by far the most talented actors on this show (if you disagree, fight me in the parking lot) and it feels surprisingly unfortunate that their characters have, to this point in the new season, pretty much figured out their perspectives on each other. No matter how people feel about Grace and Frankie’s sexualities, the whole show has been about them finding each other and getting in deeper and deeper, and it’s less interesting to watch other characters have realizations about that than it is to watch Grace and Frankie having realizations about themselves. If the title characters are now limited to reacting to other people’s actions, and the title characters are played by the best actors on the show, the whole show’s gonna suffer. And is suffering, very much so, at least for these first four episodes. I’m definitely still excited for the final twelve in 2022 (twelve! I cannot believe this season will have sixteen eps!), but I’m pretty disappointed so far.

Stuff I Loved:

The family brunch. These families have been entwined for so long, and the backstory for this particular brunch was so fun (even though I didn’t care for the effects they did to depict Grace and Robert 25 years ago; there was no need for a visual flashback in the scene). I love that Grace hit Frankie with a wiffle ball bat. I love that the two couples realized some of the emotional reasons behind their decisions to lie to each other about Bud’s Bunny and about M’Challah. I love the way Jane Fonda sounds uttering the phrase “Bud’s Bunny” with little to no irony. I love that Grace is able to recognize and articulate just how deep and miserable her anger issues were, albeit with the continued help of her omnipresent martini, and that Frankie told her she’d now make up a holiday in order to spend more time with Grace. I really, really hope Frankie does exactly this at some point in the remaining episodes of the season. I love that Grace is generally a pretty good person now, with aspirations of being a delightful person. I love that she and Frankie don’t have it in them to stay angry with each other, and I love all the evidence that they really, really talk to each other about everything now.

Frankie talking to the man at the office (I don’t remember who he was supposed to be? A toilet manufacturer? I didn’t mention this before, but I actually got pretty high while watching?!? Believe it or not, this was the first time I smoked pot and watched Grace and Frankie at the same time despite having enjoyed both activities on their own for quite some time. I would recommend the combo! And I think I still pretty much got what was happening) about paying for the toilet parts with candy. This whole subplot with the money laundering was absurd and not that interesting, but I loved this particular scene because it was finally evidence of some really thoughtful writing. The concepts aren’t enough! You have to write them into good dialogue! And the whole cash/candy thing was a moment of dialogue that only someone as hilarious as Lily Tomlin could pull off. Which she did, IMO.

In a show about super messy people, Coyote has stayed sober this entire time. He is sober, employed, in love, and preparing to buy a full-sized house with his partner. He hasn’t murdered anyone in his family. Hasn’t even attempted murder once.

In 2017 or whatever, Grace Hanson would have been furious about Frankie using obscure Beatles references like a treasure map when hiding the cash. But here in 2021, she cooperates and even gets in on the fun. The writing is very unsubtle this season, but that did feel like a reasonably subtle moment that shows how good of a partner she is for Frankie. (Platonic, of course! So platonic. Female friendship, amirite?)

Stuff I Did NOT Love and Felt Incredibly Negative About:

Brianna. I can only conclude that June Diane Raphael has decided she’s happy with playing a character whose primary role in life is to be hot and mean. She succeeds at being hot and mean, but I have reached my limit with this character. I realize we’re only a quarter of the way into the season, but I don’t think I can take another arc about her learning to compromise only to reveal to Barry that she never intended to compromise at all. At this point, it’s both abusive and boring. How?! The Grace/Brianna parallels aren’t interesting anymore, because one character has grown and the other is stagnant. I get that Brianna was raised in an emotionally stilted environment by two unhealthy people. But I think it would be very cool if she could learn something from her mother at this point. Grace has put a ton of effort into dealing with her “rabbit-killing, mad-at-the-world anger.” She’s put a ton of effort into figuring out what makes her happy, what she wants her life to look like. She’s even started accepting her age and abilities without shame. And that growth is believable; Grace is still short-tempered and she still slugs back way too many martinis and she struggles to articulate certain things, but she’s grown into a truly lovely human. And while, as a daughter with a mother, I can absolutely attest to the fact that it can be difficult and uncomfortable to learn lessons from one’s mother, Brianna really, really should. Grace spent decades letting anger and shame trap her in a small, miserable life. Brianna—and even Mallory, who just seems like a vapid idiot this season—are traveling that same path, but there’s someone right there who could really help, maybe even more than Frankie helped when the Hanson girls were first growing up.

The arraignment. The scene might’ve been salvageable if it was filmed from Grace’s perspective, and filmed to reflect how surreal and improbable it all was. But speaking of non-linear progress, this scene erased everything Nick Skolka has done to put himself in my good graces (LOL) over the past couple seasons. I mean, I tried, man. I even wrote fic about Nick, Grace, and Frankie making a genuine effort at polyamory. But the arraignment is so emotionally manipulative, such a slap in the face of everything Grace has worked for, and while we’re certainly “supposed” to feel the weight of the moment, I mean, it’s not like we’re supposed to be like, “Oh, cool, we’re in a rom com now! This is adorable!” it still felt bad and unearned and slapdash.

And I want Frankie to process these things with her! Frankie seems so happy to have all this information about Grace and how Grace feels, but I want to see scenes in which we can gain an understanding of how Frankie actually feels. Hearing Frankie talk to other people about how Grace feels is interesting, but it’s like there’s no room in these episodes for us to learn anything new about Frankie herself.

Grace’s transitional wig. Is so. Bad. It is. Such a. Bad wig. Oof. I mean, I like what they’re doing with Grace’s hair from a plot perspective, although (see one bullet up) I would really like to get more of an understanding of what’s happening in Grace’s head, not just on top of her head. And gosh, Frankie would be a really good person to talk to about this in a conversation that lasts longer than 30 seconds. But the wig! She’s in a wig in all four episodes, of course, since Jane Fonda went grey and cut her hair short before they started filming this season. The wig for episodes 1 and 2 is fine; it’s a good approximation of Grace’s typical hair, and of course we know that canonically Grace’s hair isn’t 100% her own hair anyway. But the wig with grey roots looks so weird. The part that’s growing out doesn’t look the same as the hair on the wig from 1 and 2. And the grey roots look like a yarmulke. I cannot wait to get to the point in the season when Grace goes all the way grey.

(One more thing about the hair. I can’t let it go. I paused the show while we were watching to rant, but I’m not done.) I had the great privilege of seeing Jane Fonda in person at a protest in 2019. She is an insanely beautiful human. She was growing her hair out and it was partially dyed blonde and partially grey. It looked really cool. I am not ashamed to say I spent that day learning many things about the climate crisis and about Jane Fonda’s hair. Having seen her in real life with her real hair looking that fucking great, I just have a an extra-large grudge against everyone involved in that horrible wig. The wig is necessary, but it didn’t have to be this bad.

What Do I Care About Now?

I am pretty intrigued by the way Grace threw out her real age in a conversation with Nick and Elena. She has nothing to fear anymore! She’s so chill about aging! What could go wrong? I assume that Nick and Elena maneuvering for Nick to be on house arrest in Grace's house specifically has to do with the fact that Grace is 82. She’s gonna find out that Nick is allowed to be with her because she’s ancient and helpless and the court took pity. Or something like that. She’s going to feel betrayed on top of feeling stifled and overwhelmed by Nick’s presence. I want to see where this goes for sure.

Other than that, and other than the fact that I really do continue to believe this show is moving in a direction in which Grace and Frankie will choose each other, I feel very whatever about this whole thing. I love this show and I will always appreciate this show for giving me some incredible characters to spend years of my life writing about, and for bringing me some pretty amazing friendships. Speaking of those friendships, yesterday @ellydash and @telanu and I were talking about some of the incredible TV we’ve watched recently, like Ted Lasso and Hacks and Fleabag and Killing Eve, and how great it feels to watch beautifully written TV crafted by writers who are profoundly—organically yet intentionally—attuned to even the most minor character’s rhythm. The disappointment of these first few episodes of the new G&F season feels like a mild disappointment rather than a sharp heartbreak, and that has a lot to do with being deeply invested in other shows that could also go in all kinds of different directions but with writing I fundamentally trust.

Also Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin are my forever faves and my appreciation for their performances and general awesomeness onscreen and in life is undiminished. So that’s pretty cool.

#grace and frankie #meta by me #grace and frankie s7 spoilers #a lesbian watches ted lasso #grace hanson is a gay disaster #except #she's not even a disaster anymore #she's totally fine and men keep bothering her!#frankie bergstein is a bisexual mess

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variousqueerthings · 3 years

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Daniel LaRusso: A Queer Feminine Fairytale Analysis Part Two of Three

Part 1

Part 3

6. Sexual Awakenings part 1: Love, Obsession, & Size Differences

[Insert that post talking about the creators making sure that Daniel’s antagonists were much bigger than him so that the audience would sympathise, spawning 10000 size kink fics]

I’m sure this won’t awaken anything in Daniel

Corporate wants you to find the difference between these two pictures

The hallmark of feminine fairytales tends to be growing into womanhood, with all those symbolic sexual under/overtones, searching for a prince, encountering monsters (or evil stepmothers), on the surface tending to be quite passive/reactive, but actually being about young girls and women getting out of their environment and choosing to tussle with those deep, dark desires – monsters. They’ve got to function within the limitations of power that they have – escaping an abusive situation through marriage, chasing forbidden desires under the guise of duress, asking questions about sexuality through things like symbolic plucking (flowers) or consumption (fruit) or pricking (needles), etc.

Daniel isn’t striking out to find his fortune or win a girl or a kingdom Like A Man, he’s not a threat to Silver, who – like Jareth in Labyrinth – is in control for almost the whole of the narrative, he’s not actually able to do much more than react until he makes the decision to stop training, and even then he’s immediately ganged up on and assaulted, needing to be saved by Miyagi while he stands and watches, bloodied and bruised.

Daniel’s journey in the third movie is to be forced into an impossible situation, seduced by Silver, and then prove that whatever violence Silver did to him isn’t enough to destroy him. It is incredibly similar to Sarah’s in Labyrinth, who by the end declares: “you have no power over me,” and that’s her winning moment. Not strength, not wits, not a direct fight, (although Daniel does fight Barnes and gets beat up again – only winning in in the end by taking him by surprise, unlike in TKK1 or TKK2 where you could argue that he proves himself to be a capable physical opponent to Johnny and Chozen), but by declaring that whatever power was held over her is now void.

Daniel’s narrative isn’t satisfying in the same way, because the dynamic of Silver and Daniel only accidentally emulates this - it’s not an intention on the side of the film-makers.

When Miyagi tells Daniel that he has strong roots, when he tells him not to lose to fear and Daniel wins over Barnes (in an almost fairytale-esque set of events), on paper he’s defeated whatever hold Terry Silver has over him. In the film itself though, Daniel never defeats Silver (which will likely be confirmed once he returns in Season Four). Daniel cannot simply say “you have no power over me,” and see Silver shattered into glass shards.

The film is a contradiction: It wants to be a masculine sports film, but it exists in the same realm as Goblin Kings seducing young girls with the promise of: “Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.” Unlike Sarah, Daniel doesn’t claim the power that’s been promised to him on his own terms. His subtextually sexual awakening is so corrupted that all he can do is pretend it never happened.

Still, Daniel proves in the film that his strength is not in his fists. It’s in his praying to the bonsai tree that’s healed despite a violent boy brutally tearing it in two.

These looks on Daniel and Silver though?

So why does Silver become obsessed with him? What’s up with all those red outfits (that he doesn’t wear in Cobra Kai)? What does the temptation reveal about Daniel? How does it recontextualise TKK1 and TKK2? Is Daniel bisexual? (yes).

Ah, beach-Daniel, in your red hoodie and your cut-off jorts. Iconic hot-girl summer vibes.

If you didn’t want me over-analysing this, you shouldn’t have put him in so many red outfits and then have this man leering at him like he wants to eat him alive.

Surface-level it’s not hard to read into a Dude Story: Masculine power fantasies are about strength in a very direct way. Fighting, control, suaveness – and if you’re not the most traditionally masculine of guys, asserting dominance through being a good lover or intelligent or overcoming that unmanliness in some way through beating the bully or convincing the hot girl to go out with you, levelling up in coolness. Being A Man. It’s not too dissimilar from Daniel’s arc in the first movie, if you watch it without taking later events into account, although Daniel is never interested in proving himself as a man, and more in making Miyagi proud. Still, he does win and gain respect, and arguably “get the girl,” although Ali’s interest in him was never dependent on the fight.

7. Sexual Awakenings Part 2: Sexual Assault, Liberation, and Queerness

Feminine power fantasies are often about sex. Metaphorically. More accurately it’s “owning sexuality.” Even more accurately: “Freedom.” They also inhabit a fluid space in which empowerment through monstrous desires and non-consent can happen at the same time. And on top of that, many of these “fantasies” are actually being written by men, so whose fantasy is it really? A lot of them are based in oral traditions so presumably they were originally from the mouths of women, even if modern iterations (starting with Grimm’s collections) are filtered through cis men’s perspectives.

All of that being acknowledged: In Angela Carter’s “The Company Of Wolves,” Red Riding Hood unambiguously sleeps with the wolf. Belle discovers her freedom from expectations and unsuitable suitors (and in some versions, evil stepsisters) by falling in love with a Beast (the original novel was written by a woman, the 18th century Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve). Jareth informs Sarah of his obsessive devotion to her in Labyrinth. To lean into horror for a moment – Buffy is stalked and eventually has relationships with both Angel and Spike, Lucy in Coppola’s Dracula (which I have mixed feelings about) is raped by the werewolf and Mina is stalked by Dracula, The Creature Of The Black Lagoon kidnaps Kay (the lead’s girlfriend) – subverted in both The Shape Of Water in which Eliza forms a consensual relationship with the amphibious sea-god and in the short-lived horror series Swamp Thing, in which the connection is purposefully framed as seductive…

and in The Karate Kid Part Three Daniel LaRusso punches a board until his hands bleed because an attractive, older man tells him to and in this moment he gives in to what he (thinks he) wants.

Not all of those examples are equal. Some are consensual, some are hinted as abusive and/or stalkery, all of them have large age gaps, and a few are outright non-consensual.

But they’re all fantasies.

They’re all power-fantasies.

Except for Daniel, because he’s a man and the idea that being obsessed (lusted) over by an older man who keeps you in his thrall, specifically because you tickle his fancy for whatever reason, because you’re beautiful, breakable, different – could in any way be considered empowering is a difficult concept to wrap your head around. It doesn’t contain that “but I’m a good girl, I’d never go off the path and pluck flowers if a bad wolf told me to, honest,” societal context or the social context of rape culture. It’s closest comparison is closeted (perhaps even unknown until that point) queer identity.

There have recently been some comparisons of Daniel LaRusso to Bruce Bechdel in Funhome (and everyone who says that Ralph Macchio ought to play him in the upcoming movie: you’re right and I’m just not going to enjoy it as much without him). I’ve written a post about Sam being the heir to his legacy and trauma, specifically as a queercoded man. It’s not dissimilar to the plot of Funhome in a lot of ways.

The other interesting source that’s been going around in connection with Daniel is the essay “The Rape of James Bond,” which discusses the use of sexual assault as a plot device for women and not for men: “About one in every 33 men [in the US] is raped. … [your statistically average, real life man] … doesn’t have a horde of enemies explicitly dedicated to destroying him. He doesn’t routinely get abducted, and tied up. Facing a megalomaniac psychopath gloating over causing him pain […] is not the average man’s average day at the office.” That last bit is just a descriptor of Terry Silver, (although I take issue at the blasé use of psychopath).

The two part youtube essay Sexual Assault of Men Played for Laughs posits that there is nothing more de-masculinising than the threat of sexual assault and therefore any narrative that features this “rightfully” must mock any man who has been a victim or who fears being a victim of sexual assault. It is feminising. There is nothing more humiliating – and therefore unheroic – than a man dealing with sexual assault.

So what do we feel when we see an attractive young man being put into a vulnerable position by an older man? A trope associated with female characters, a trope that is considered unpalatable for men (see reactions that happened when the hint of sexual assault was introduced in Skyfall).

Was it the fact that he was being threatened, or the fact that James’ next line is: “what makes you think this is my first time?”

Some thoughts added by @mimsyaf are around the idea of safety in how a lot of cis women might relate to this narrative through Daniel’s eyes. He’s not a woman, he has – societally – more power than a girl or woman would have, which makes this a different watch to, say, if Danielle were to go through the same narrative. Daniel doesn’t carry that baggage of rape culture, or of the male gaze that you might find in a similar scenario of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Christine in Phantom of the Opera (and once more the age differences between these characters and the men who love/lust over them are substantial), which makes the narrative “safer” to engage with.

I agree with that, although as a transmasc person I also come at it differently. I specifically like to headcanon Daniel as a trans guy and find his fraught interactions with masculinity through his own non-toxic lens relatable, as well as the way other boys and men react to it – also I think Terry Silver is hot. I know there are people who write Terry Silver with female OCs, which is also a form of empowerment.

On the flipside putting Daniel in this space runs a risk of fetishising him as a queer youth who is either Innocent and Pure, or a bisexual stereotype that deserves to be assaulted for not being a real man. After all, Real Straight Men don’t run the risk of sexual assault.

Alas, the road to empowerment never did run smooth.

The comparisons between the way Daniel is treated by the text and how female characters are often treated in texts are undoubtedly there. Through Ralph Macchio and TIG’s casting and the direction and acting, but also within the text itself.

It might not be with the same purpose as Neo’s symbolically trans journey, but it puts the whole narrative that Daniel’s going through from TKK1 under a different light than if there had only been one movie that ended on a triumphant sports win and a girlfriend.

Johnny’s masculinity and the use of tears as liberation, now that’s a whole other analysis….

#daniel larusso #terry silver #the karate kid part three #the karate kid #cobra kai #ck #cobra kai meta #part two of three #we're going into labyrinth and james bond in this one fellas #(non-gendered fellas)

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

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Um hi, I don't normally send prompts but I had an idea, so…anyway, basically the prompt is a villain's young sidekick who shows up at the villain's doorstep in the middle of the night (villain is a nice person; more unlawful than evil, idk) really injured, and when the villain patches them up, they end up accidentally revealing that they live with an abusive family? Idk, sorry if this is a weird idea.

With ideas as good as this one, you should send prompts more often ^^ It's not weird at all, I absolutely love this. I tried really hard on this one, so I really hope you enjoy!

Please note that this work contains descriptions of the aftermath of physical child abuse. If this would upset or distress you, please avoid reading this work.

CW//Child abuse, physical child abuse, verbal child abuse, being called a 'freak', death of a spouse, blood, bacteria (in a scientific setting)

Villain had never been much of a fan of children.

They wouldn't exactly describe it as a dislike. Kids were... fine. Annoying on occasion, and endlessly confusing with their new trends and habits, but fine. Those who brought them into the world and raised them provided a precious service, but their talents were far more useful elsewhere.

They squinted their eye, the eye pressed up against the lens of their microscope. With a tiny twist of a knob, the image below focused, displaying in full detail a million squirming lifeforms.

The culture was developing as expected. They removed the slide and returned the bacterial colony to its petri dish.

They'd thought about having a family, when they were young. A juvenile, clueless thought, but a thought nonetheless. There was something that warmed them about the concept of a home that was never empty.

Nowadays, they shared their home with no one but the bacteria, and they weren't exactly the best conversationalists.

Villain moved across their lab, soft socks muffling the thudding of their feet on the tile. With practiced accuracy, they returned the petri dish back to its tray, where it belonged.

They couldn't help but glancing just to the right. To the rabbit cage, sitting empty as it was. The light above it was still glowing bright, illuminating the stale hay below, and the toilet paper roll where the cage's inhabitant's teeth had once gnawed.

Now, the habitat sat empty.

They couldn't bring themself to clean it out. That was Spouse-

That was Spouse's job.

Villain bit their lip, taking another petri dish from the tray and returning to their microscope.

They growled and swatted at the thoughts that fought to enter their brain, but it was no use. No weapon could have fended them off.

Because... Because...

Because Spouse had loved kids.

They had always talked about the concept in dreamy, wistful tones. The idea of having a family, of creating something together that wasn't borne of chemicals in a lab. And Villain had agreed. But it was always simply a plan. Something that would be done sometime in the future. When the world wasn't so hectic. When there wasn't work to be done. When...

Villain bit their tongue hard enough to draw blood, gazing as intensely through the microscope's lens as they could manage.

Now that Spouse was gone, the laughter of children would never light the dreary home. There would always be a spare bedroom.

Their home would always be empty.

Maybe that was why they had taken Sidekick in.

It was something they'd wondered so often, not that they'd ever admit it to the teen they had taken under their wing. The relationship had started so uneventfully-- a powered kid with just enough spunk and reckless abandon to find their way into the world of heroes and villains.

At first, Villain hadn't even thought of them as a sidekick. They were just a kid that they trained in their free time. A future ally who needed someone to show them the ropes.

Then, they'd started coming with them on missions.

And fighting at their side.

And now, Villain couldn't help wondering, whenever they laid in their large, empty bed, what Spouse would have thought of their protege. If they were still around, then Sidekick's 16th birthday cake wouldn't have been so shitty. But, hey, no one could say that Villain hadn't tried.

Damn, did they miss that kid. Even when they called them a dinosaur and laughed when they didn't know what Tock-Tic was, or whatever they'd said. They'd been gone almost a whole week, now.

It wasn't the first time, of course. No teen had the time to be a full-time sidekick. They had their own life. They needed to go to school and hang out with their friends and be a kid. And do whatever kids did on Tock-Tik. Villain was certain that they would come back when they were able.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

By the time the knock on the door came, Villain was almost done with their inspection of the bacteria colonies. Their tired eyes flitted to the clock on the wall: Three in the morning. Had it been that long?

And who the hell was at their door at three in the morning?

The knock sounded again, yet, this time, it was distinct. Three sharp taps, then a fourth two seconds later.

Sidekick's knock. The one they'd practiced, to notify Villain when they arrived. But... They looked at the clock again. Their eyes had not deceived them. It was the dead of night. The kid should have been asleep hours ago!

Without care, they tossed down the petri dish in their hands on the nearest countertop, not so much as bothering to shrug off their lab coat as they hurried to the front door. They expected to hear the knock again-- the kid was always so impatient-- but there was no such noise. Only heavy, shallow breathing.

Other villains would have bemoaned their recklessness, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that their kid was here.

Villain flung open the window. Sidekick leapt back.

Sidekick...

They stood in the doorway a moment, liquid shock and terror battling for dominance within their bones. When they finally recovered, they spoke no words, only bustled their protege through the door and locked it behind. The kid stumbled all the way to the lab's exam table, which Villain practically threw them upon.

The terror in their bones had settled firmly in their stomach.

"What in the world happened to you?"

It was with the gaze of a parent rather than a doctor that they scanned the kid from head to toe.

The sheer volume of blood made it difficult to pinpoint their wounds. Yet, it was clear to see that the side of their head was still pumping scarlet, and the crimson dribbling down their leg was already dripping onto the pristine lab floor.

Villain gulped. The idea of taking their eyes of the kid for a split second was petrifying, but they relented, rushing off to returning a moment later with handfuls of rags. They shoved one into the kids hands.

"Hold this to the wound on your head, as tight as you can. I'll clean off your leg."

Even with trembling hands, the kid obliged as Villain knelt down , drenching rag after rag in blood until the leg was finally clear. At the very least, the wound upon their knee seemed to have stopped weeping scarlet. It was a messy thing, blunt trauma with enough force behind it to tear straight through the skin. The villain's practiced fingers tied a tight wrapping of gauze around the joint, standing to their feet.

Blood had seeped between Sidekick's fingers, but it seemed to have begun to dry. The head wound had stopped bleeding.

"Good." Villain pried the soaked rag from the kid's hands, tossing it aside. They could clean up later. "Where else?"

Sidekick averted their gaze, shoulders winding up taut.

"You need to tell me where you were hurt. Please."

After a few moments of trembling like a leaf, the kid gestured to their side.

"Okay. Can you take your shirt off for me, please? I need to get that cleaned."

"Okay..." The kid whimpered, obliging. Villain tossed aside the bloodied garment with little care, adding it to the pile of dirtied fabric.

Their torso...

The wound on their side, just above the hip, did not bleed nearly as bad as the other two. But...

With the sheer amount of bruises littering their flesh, Sidekick's skin may as well have been blue.

Villain took a clean rag, pressing it to their side.

"Who." They spat. "Who did this?"

Their mind began to run with such speed that, had it been a computer, its fans would have been on overdrive. What heroes were active around Sidekick's neighborhood? A few came to mind, at least one or two that were far enough outside the law that they wouldn't have put much thought into doing this to a kid.

But Sidekick did not speak, instead staring at their own shoes, dangling off the exam table.

When the hip wound was dried and wrapped, Villain whirled around, grabbing their phone and flicking to the contacts page. Which of their fellow villains was near the kid's home? They could think of at least a couple. Even if they were little more than acquaintances, someone who would hurt a kid was the common enemy of all.

"I need a name, kiddo. A name. Was it Viper? Sunstorm? The Twilight Reaper? I have friends, lots of friends. We can make them regret this."

No reply. Villain bit their lip, selecting a contact, moving their finger towards the call button-

"Wait!"

The kid at last cried.

"It wasn't a hero. My dad's not a-"

Villain whirled around.

"Your dad?"

Sidekick flushed.

"U- um, no, I, um-"

"Did your father do this?" They stormed to the exam room where the kid sat. "All of this?"

"I- I-" Their voice was choked by tears, carving down their scarlet-stained face.

Villain placed their hands on the kid's shoulders, turning their gaze towards them.

"Please. Please, kid."

The falling tears turned to full-on sobs.

"H- He said I was a- a freak!" They wailed. "I was training, I- You said I needed to practice my flying, in bird form. And I was practicing, and I didn't think anyone else was home, and then he walked in and-"

A sob broke their voice.

"They told me never to use my powers. He doesn't know that I- I stopped taking the pills. The ones that suppress them. And he got m- mad, and, and-"

"It's okay, it's okay."

Villain threw their arms around their child, embracing them while taking care not to disturb their wounds.

"I didn't know where else to go." Sidekick's words were strangled. "I'm sorry, but I didn't want to go back home and..."

"No, no." They tightened the embrace. "No. You don't have to go back, never. Not if you don't want to."

They broke off the hug, picking their phone up again once more.

"Talon has kids your age, she would take you in. Alya, too. Swan Dancer is a teacher..."

"Um." Sidekick seemed to have run out of tears, leaving them with only a broken, low voice. "I... That's all fine. But, um, I thought you mentioned having a spare room?"

Despite their parental terror, Villain let their face break into the smallest smile.

Spouse's room.

In a way, maybe they would get to meet Sidekick, after all.

#whump #hero villain whump #villain caretaker #whump prompt

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yami-writes · 3 years

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The Underworld - AoA Mythology Event

(✨) paring(s) — Hades Shouto Todoroki x f!reader

(⚠️) warning(s) — some angst, talk about devils, hell and stuff, mentions of execution, fires and buildings burning down, major character death (nothing graphic)

(💌) yami's note — my contribution to Attack on Academia’s Mythology AU event! hope you enjoy- even though i know close to nothing about mythology :sob: also this isn’t a specific AU/theme or anything, i was pretty lost on what to do so i just went off what i knew + a bit of my own shit ( this is my first work in a while, i'm a bit rusty lmao )

Y/n, never to be held back by the rules. You always preferred to do things your way, bending and breaking rules to do what you wanted.

“I’m supposed to be executed next month.” You took a bite out of your mashed potatoes while Denki choked on his. “What!? How could you say that so casually!?”

“I don’t care. They’re supposed to be executing all the lifetime prisoners here as some sort of offering to the Devil or some shit.”

You spent the better half of your life as a wanted criminal, committing acts left and right at your will. You never had a reason to commit crimes, it was more or less the ‘You Only Live Once’ mentality, as well as your own curiosity that drove you to be a bad person. For better or for worse, you enjoyed your life of crime. It was a never-ending adventure, a game. What crime will you commit this time? How many cops would show up this time? How far will you have to go to escape them? It was all a fun game to you.

“I’d rather be executed than spend the rest of my life in this place. We’re not even treated like humans. More like rabid animals that could attack at any moment. At least if I get executed I’ll be dead.”

“At least if I eat food I won’t starve.” Denki mocked. “But is it true? Are you really going to be executed?”

“Yeah.” you take another bite out of your lunch. “The guards hate us, they’ve been wanting to see our heads on a stick for a long time.”

“What!? But if you die I won’t have anyone in here to keep me sane, y’know!! We’ve only been talking for a few days but I like you!!”

You merely nodded.

“Hey, Y/n!” Mina poked your cheek. “What is it this time?”

“Have you ever heard the term ‘yolo’?”

“The fuck is a yolo?”

“I said it’s a term!” Mina laughed. “It’s an abbreviation for ‘You Only Live Once’.”

You Only Live Once. Those four words touched your soul. They told you to go, do the things you never thought you’d do. Commit the crimes you’ve never even thought of committing. They told you nobody, not even the law could tell you what to do, only you could tell yourself what to do.

Time was passing fast. Minutes, hours, days passed and your execution only got closer.

You didn’t care, but word sure did get around fast. Two weeks until the execution and everyone knew. You received weird looks wherever you went, which was normal, but these were different. You couldn’t explain what made them so different though. Maybe it was the way they lingered for longer than you’d like, as you had gotten used to the quick glances.

They were getting cocky.

You ate your lunch in silence, Denki was nowhere to be seen but you couldn’t be bothered, you just hoped he wasn’t doing anything stupid. As your execution came up you had been thinking, mostly of your past, your decisions, your life. Specifically, that one night...

It was a quiet Sunday evening. After being passed around in foster homes, enduring abusive foster parent after abusive foster parent, you were put into an adoption center, where you were finally being taken care of. You never made friends with anyone, you were scared of them. You thought they’d hurt you, abuse you, call you names. You didn’t want to go through that again.

“Hey!” A girl called out to you. She sat in front of you on the floor. “My name’s Mina!” The girl had messy pink hair, it was hard to tell if it was natural or not. You stared at her for a second, unsure of how to respond. “Hello.” Was all you could choke out.

“You’re y/n, right? I think you’re cool, wanna do this puzzle with me?” She took out a puzzle of a cat wearing a wool hat.

“Sure.”

“Yay!!” Mina cheered, quickly dumping the pieces on the floor.

From that point on your friendship with Mina flourished. Countless days and nights spent together. Laughing, talking and gossiping, together. You didn’t want it to end the way it did.

Months later, you never imaged standing in front of the adoption centre, the building ablaze and falling apart due to fire damages. Your friend, Mina, nowhere to be seen outside of the building. Was she still inside? The entrance to the building had already caught fire and looked about ready to collapse. You weren’t quite sure if the emergency exits were available, but if they were Mina would’ve used them by now, she was always quick-witted.

“y/n..” The adoption centre staff that had escaped with you puts her hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but… They’re gone.”

You understood the concept of death very well, you’ve experienced losing someone before, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Hello, y/n.” A lady walks up to you, waking you out of your daydream. Her hair is up in a tidy ponytail and she’s wearing a prison uniform, she’s a prisoner too? “What? I was hoping to enjoy my lunch alone.”

“My apologies.” She sits down beside you. “I just wanted to talk to you before your execution, I think you’re very interesting.” You continue eating your lunch, minimalizing socializing with your prison mate. “Have you ever heard of ‘The Underworld’?” The lady asked.

“The Underworld?”

“Yes. It's where lifetime prisoners like us are bound to wind up. Lemme tell you about it.” She makes herself comfortable on the bench.

“If he deems you to be a bad person, the Devil will bring your soul down to The Underworld as a way to punish you for the sins of your past life. It’s a large, dark place, filled with the souls of people like you and I, who have committed horrible crimes and now have to deal with the consequences forever.”

“I see... And why are you telling me this?”

“I’ve been telling everyone about it! We’re all gonna go there!! It's good to be informed. Anyways, I’ll leave you to your lunch now. It was nice talking to you, y/n.”

“Okay.”

You pondered for a while after listening to that woman. She seemed pretty nice but it was obvious she had some screws loose.

You also thought about her teachings of The Underworld. If you enjoyed your life to the fullest, did it really matter what happens in the afterlife? You asked yourself that question often. You were more curious than you were afraid of the underworld.

You’ve heard many different interpretations of it, although the most common seemed to be one of suffering. Eternal suffering at the hands of Satan. The supreme ruler of Hell torments your soul for longer than the human mind can comprehend as a means to pay for the sins of your past life. The cold-blooded Devil rests on his throne as he listens to the tortured screams for mercy, to be set free.

The thought left your mind soon after, although you never seemed to get that woman off your mind. She was interesting, to say the least.

Two days. Two more days until you’re to be executed. As the days went by you became more and more curious. You had been thinking of the woman often.

She was a kind, yet mysterious lady. You’d gone around and asked other prisoners about her, but they all had nothing. Some people said something about her being pulled from a mental hospital and into jail but those seemed to just be rumours. Who is she? Where could she have gone? The prison was relatively big, so finding a specific person would prove to be pretty difficult, but almost two weeks of searching should’ve yielded at least some sort of information. You had given up on finding anything about her, she was just someone who wanted to speak to you, there was no need to spend the last few days of your life on her.

You never stopped thinking of The Underworld, or whatever it was called at this point. You wondered what it was really like. What really happened down there? Are bad souls really tortured for eternity? Is there even an afterlife? You wanted to know.

You went to bed thinking about it. About your afterlife.

You opened your eyes, a dark blue sky looking back at you. Outside? Your head was pounding and your throat was dry. Your body ached.

You could hear an eerie ambiance in the distance, this was truly an odd place. Ignoring the pain, you got up, taking a good look around you. The ground was made out of a mix of rock and dirt, around you seemed to be lakes of water. The sky was a dark blue colour, almost like a night sky, although there was no moon, stars, or sun.

“Hello.” a voice called out to you. You turned in the direction of the voice, a hooded figure stood before you. “Who are you?? Where am I??”

“Woah woah, calm down.” a hooded figure tried to calm you down. Their voice was rather kind, leading you to believe they weren’t a threat to you, they seemed to calm you down a bit. They wore a black, hooded robe and grasped a long stick with a red gem on the top. Behind them was a river, as well as a boat. “Was it a rough fall?”

“...Yeah,” you looked up at the gloomy sky, “I guess so.”

“I’m sorry about that, I'll ask him to add some sort of cushion here.” the mysterious person takes off their hood, revealing green hair and a rather cute freckled face. “I’m Izuku, I’ll be bringing you to the mainland.”

“Mainland?? Wait where even is this place, why am I here?? I’m supposed to be in prison right now-”

“Oh! You’re in The Underworld now. You’re dead, I'm sorry..”

“Dead!? How!? I wasn’t executed yet!”

“Your questions will be answered once we get there, so come with me into this boat and I'll take you to the mainland.” Izuku leads you to the boat, preparing it to sail once you get in, and soon enough, the boat starts to move onward.

“We might be here for a while, mind telling me about your past life? He never tells me anything about the souls that wind up here.”

“Uh sure, I guess. My parents died when I was still young, so I was tossed around in foster homes until they just stuck me in an adoption centre… One day one of the ladies that worked there caused a fire and it got burnt down, only me and that lady survived. After that I moved to the next town over and started a life of crime, I enjoyed it. Eventually, the police caught me and I was sentenced to jail for life for all the crimes I committed, they planned to execute me tomorrow but.. Y’know, I’m dead now.”

“Hm.. what an unfortunate life you’ve lived, although that story isn’t very new around here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard the stories of most of the souls down here, their lives began to tumble after a traumatic event. The loss of a loved one, car crashes, tragedies, I've heard it all before, but it doesn't get any less saddening.”

“I see..” you sigh, slumping over the side of the boat. You stare down at the water, watching your reflection. The water was almost as dark as the sky, tinted a greenish colour. ‘I’m kinda tired…’

“And~~ we're here!” Izuku announces, stopping the boat. “Sure did take a while.” You step out of the boat, taking a look around. It looks identical to where you first woke up.

“Follow that path, it’ll take you to Hades. He never asks to see anyone so you’re special!”

“He asked to see me!?”

“Yeah, I'm not sure as to why, but you better hurry! He doesn’t like waiting.”

“Oh, okay! Thanks!”

You immediately make your way down the path, concerned as to what Hades himself wanted from you. The path seemed to stretch on forever, turning corners before another straight, long extension. It almost left like you were going in a long circle.

At this point you had been in The Underworld for 30 minutes, although the sky hadn’t seemed to change at all, was there no time here?

After a long 15 minutes of walking, you made it to a large palace, tall gates of steel keeping unwanted guests from entering. A button rested on the side of the gate entrance. You pressed the button, unsure of what it would do. You wouldn’t be surprised if it summoned another hooded figure like Izuku to escort you into the palace, this place was unpredictable.

A loud ‘buzz’ sound erupted from the button upon being pressed, followed by a “Who’s there?” The voice on the other side was definitely different from Izuku's. It was deeper, but pleasant. “I’m y/n, Izuku told me Hades wanted to see me?”

You heard another buzz sound before the front gates opened. You anxiously walked in, not sure what to expect next. Your mind raced with thoughts as you wandered through the halls of what you assumed to be Hades’ palace. It was surprisingly bland on the inside, though. Maybe he wasn’t good with interior design.

After making your way through the halls, you were met with a surprisingly small room, with the classic long, expensive red carpets you would only see in movies. You felt somewhat bad for stepping on it, it looked expensive.

You looked up to see someone, a humanlike being sitting upon a throne.

“Hello?” you called out to them, inching closer.

“Ah, you must be y/n.” They acknowledge, standing from their throne and walking up to you. Was this Hades?

He looked more human than you thought he would. His face is what caught your attention, he was incredibly handsome. The type of man you’d only see in your dreams. His hair split in the middle, his left red and his right white. There also seemed to be a red mark on the left side of his face, it looked like a burn scar…

“Uhm, why’d you call me here? Shouldn’t I be like... Suffering? With the rest of the bad souls that ended up here?” you questioned him, trying to ignore his beauty.

“No. I’ve been watching you for a while, y/n. If I'm getting to the point, I want to marry you. I killed you prematurely so those awful people didn’t get the chance to, and so I could get to see you early.” He smiled. His lips looked incredibly soft, the kind you’d want to kiss forever.

“What!? Marry me!? But-”

“You mustn’t worry about the details, y/n. I love you, everything from your beauty, to your personality, I feel drawn to you. I would like you to be my wife. We could live happily together.”

The way he never elaborated didn’t make it any easier to take in, but an idea came to your mind. “If I marry you, will I still have to suffer? Like to pay for my sins…”

“Of course not, my love. Let’s say marrying me is enough to pay for them.”

You were curious to know what would happen if you didn’t marry him, or if you had a choice at all, but you decided you were better off not knowing for once.

“Alright, I’ll marry you.”

“Wonderful. Please feel free to explore the palace, and pick a room. I know you’re probably tired.”

“Thanks.”

After exploring the palace, you settled for a cozy room on the second floor. You liked the colours and arrangement of the room.

You lie in bed, pondering what had happened in the first few hours of your afterlife. You spent your life thinking you’d be sent down to meet Satan, an unforgiving force meant to punish evil souls for their wrongdoings, but was met with Hades instead, a God that was not only kind, but had at some point, fallen in love with your character. He had promised you an easy afterlife with him, an eternity you could spend however you wanted. Do the things you never got to do in your past life as a spirit.

You were beyond grateful to him, choosing to not only have mercy on you, but make you, a criminal who’s committed many crimes, his wife, another ruler, God of The Underworld.

Everything turned out quite different from how you originally thought.

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #reader insert #mythology #mha x mythology #bnha x mythology #mythology au #hades #shouto todoroki x reader

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cwnahyoung · 3 years

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KWAK AHYOUNG’S ROYAL REPORT

who is this clover fourth tier royal? what is she about? what is she hiding? and who is she paying attention to?

though she is not one to abide by orders and do what she is instructed to do to make her be ranked up to higher tiers, she didn’t think that filling out a report would be much of a big deal. a part of her wonders as to why the queen would want her to do this in the first place, considering she expected to do something more… verbal rather than something written. but she’d rather be writing about her experience so far as a “princess in training” in her room rather than going out and making sure she’s drinking tea the right way at a garden party.

as she reads the prompts of which she should answer in her report, her brows furrowed. why was there so many questions? surely, she isn’t expected to answer all of them, is she? no. she is only expected to answer three at least… but perhaps she could get on their royal highnesses nerves as a way to continue with being at the fourth tier. she was comfortable here, even if she could be possibly be kicked out of this life if she continued with her fooling around any longer. she’ll give them what they want… she’ll give them way more than what they want from her.

what would you say is your biggest fears? how would you cope if you were to face them in your life as a princess?

what a loaded question! she already knew the answer to this question, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to let it be known to them of all people what it was. then again… perhaps if she went on about her answer, they’ll grow tired and end up not reading it all. perhaps she should do that with all of her answers from here on out! that wouldn’t be much of an issue, would it?

she decides to save that particular question for later because obviously, she wants the least vulnerable answer to be the one the royals will be less likely to read.

in fact, she finds herself looking through past a lot of the prompts. of course, she plans on answering all of them, but she wants to make sure she doesn’t immediately make the queen think she’s putting her heart on her sleeve. she’d rather die than let anyone be aware of that.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR DEATH, DEPRESSION, EMOTIONAL ABUSE

in the case you were not in your position in your kingdom right now, what else would you be doing in this moment?

an easy question, really. she feels like she’s made it obvious to everyone about how she really didn’t want to be here. she did not wish to be living this life of luxury and power like her mother forced her to. she’s pretty sure she made some people question why she was here in the first place. even now, her heart still yearns for a certain path that grows distant from her every second she spends in the clover kingdom—or any of the kingdoms, for that matter. the most she can do is daydream… that, or have this whole competition for the throne to be over so she can go back to her normal life like she wanted to.

she writes the following:

“i wish to be a performer like my father. it has been my dream since i was merely a child. i have grown up loving music ever since the day i was born. had it not been for certain circumstances, i would try to pursue my music journey in another country far away from where the kingdoms are. perhaps, even farther away than where my family are. i’d like to believe my father would be happy for now, had i gone for that path rather than the current one i’m in now. as of now, his opinion doesn’t really affect my future anymore… unfortunately.”

what would you do if your title was suddenly stripped and you were banished from the palace?

an interesting question to consider and most definitely something the girl wouldn’t really seem to mind that much. though she’s found some company that’s made her stay at the clover kingdom, let alone the other kingdoms that surround the center of diamonds, she still would rather be anywhere else but in the position she was in right now. royal life was simply not ahyoung’s calling, no matter who or what tries to convince her otherwise. so, even though many people would consider banishment to be an awful punishment, she mainly saw it as an escape. a ticket to freedom provided by whatever action she has done. of course, she doesn’t have the balls to actually do something scandalous enough to get her banished, but if the opportunity was easier than it sounded… who was she to reject it?

she writes down:

“perhaps, i’d continue to live my life as it was before i arrived at the palace. even if my father is not here with me, meaning my journey to having a music career will be more difficult than it was before, i will continue to try and pursue that career path, as i believe it is my destiny. will it be even more complicated, as i’ll be known for my banishment? perhaps, but i could also use that as an opportunity to gain attention for what i wish to do in the future. the more people who will pay attention to me, the more likely i am to be successful in the music industry… right? that’s how it works, nowadays!”

onto the next question that wasn’t anything too uncomfortable for her.

if you could do something that would normally cost you your title but without receiving those repercussions, what would it be?

an interesting question, as ahyoung couldn’t really see herself really breaking any rules just because she felt like it. if she wouldn’t have to get a bunch of scary punishments for it, she might’ve considered. but with how over-the-top the kingdoms were, especially the queen of clovers herself, ahyoung wouldn’t risk to do anything… however, if she were to not receive any kind of repercussions, her mind begins to delve into thoughts of what she could do. when she thinks of some ideas, she immediately writes them down on the paper so that she doesn’t forget.

“i’d slap the queen of clovers in the face. i know that sounds very bold of me and i would never do that intentionally to hurt her majesty. but i feel like if i did that, i’d prove a point to let everyone know how much this entire process means so little to me. not only that, but if i took the opportunity to disrespect her majesty while also getting away with it, i can already imagine how my beloved mother would behave. and i love nothing more than to see her be embarrassed because it’s what she deserves for being so kind and lovely to me.”

which other royal do you think is your biggest competition and why? would you eliminate them if given the chance? why why not?

she wasn’t really sure if she had an answer for this. because if she had to be truthfully honest, she really didn’t care much about the throne. she was only here because her mother forced her to and she was willing to not try at all until the day she eventually finds herself kicked out of the palace for wasting the queen’s time. but of course, stubborn to make sure that the queen plans to not read through all of her answers, she decides to come up with a random answer to this question, based on how she interacts with others.

“if i had to be honest, i think that baek dabin would be my biggest competition, considering we are both on the fourth tier in the clover kingdom. she likes to think of me as her main rival and while i don’t really see much point in the throne, i like poking fun into the rival concept every now and then because i think it’s entertaining how she thinks i’m actually trying when it comes to this whole entire ‘royalty turns to princess’ thing. and though i wouldn’t really consider him my biggest competition, i do want to be able to see if i can try and take choi jaejin down. i’m not particular fond of him. i feel like he patronizes me because of my low tier, but not in the way that han hyunsu does. while hyunsu is vocally arrogant and likes being upfront about his dislike for me, jaejin does it in a way that makes me feel uneasy rather than annoyed. really, i feel like i want the hearts prince to actually leave me alone rather than the other… who i don’t really mind much. that being said, though those are the people who i’d see as competition, i don’t think i’d try to eliminate them. i think that’s reaching a little too far, not to mention i think they have a better chance at getting the throne than me anyways. at least they want it.”

if had had the choice to either a) gain the crown but your best friend is killed, or b) save your best friend but lose the crown, what would you do?

when she reads the word “best friend”, her mind automatically jumps to the thought of him: son junyoung. she’s known the prince since he was practically a baby and the two have been through a lot together, even spending a few years away from each other before rekindling their friendship when ahyoung arrived at the clover kingdom. he’s the person that made her feel comfortable in this new life of hers, considering he’s had more experience with it and he, being the kind hearted gentleman that he is, was willing to help her along the way. to think of a reality in which she was able to get the crown rather than him… that sounded unreal, especially given the fact that she feels he deserves it more than she does. it’s not only the fact that she saw no purpose in being official royalty, but it’s more on the fact that jun needed that crown. he needed it for the most selfless reasons, meanwhile ahyoung’s mother wanted her to get it for selfish reasons.

besides… if she had to witness another death of a loved one that she could be able to prevent from happening, she could never forgive herself. she’s already lost her father. with the fact that she just got jjuni back in her life, she didn’t want to lose her precious friend yet again… but forever, this time.

“i’d easily choose option b, in which i save my best friend but lose the crown. to me, the crown is not that much of a big deal. it is not the reason why i’ve decided to stay a little longer in the kingdom rather than up and quit. my friendships with everyone here is what keeps me going and what makes me try even a little at staying in the palace for longer than i want to. not to mention, i had just reunited with my best friend. to lose him all because i’ve decided to be selfish… that’d be a grave sin that i’d never ever be able to recover from.”

what is your biggest desire?

easily a question ahyoung could answer. she feels as if most of her answers from before were already indicating it. at the end of the day, what else could she want in life? her true dream life was answered in the first question she answered and though her path to getting to that dream career seems more impossible than it did before, kwak ahyoung still found herself holding onto a little bit of hope.

even now, as a royal, she finds herself trying her best to surround herself with whatever she can get of that desire. she’d play the piano in one of the rooms in the palace and sing to random songs by herself so that she could be able to relieve her stress or anger or whatever upset emotion she felt in that present moment. no matter where she is, that desire always finds a way to reach out to her in the times she needs it, whether it be as solace or even as a friend.

“music is my desire. it always has been and probably always will be. i still wish to be a musician, but i get enough joy playing the piano and singing songs to myself. i also enjoy going to opera shows in the hearts kingdom whenever i can, even if that’s not the style of singing i’m totally experienced in. in general, music is my remedy. it is my comfort. it is my love. i would die without it.”

and it’s after this question that she returns to the question that threw her off in the first place.

what is your biggest fear?

“disappointing my father.”

she wonders if it’s appropriate for her to write more. after all, she wants to ramble as much as she can so that no one would have the energy to read it… but at the same time, it’s hard to talk about. after all, it’s the reason why she’s here to begin with. her mother told her that the least she could do in honor of her dad is do the one thing he’s worked so hard to keep her from being, making it sound as if ahyoung’s wish to not be a princess was a burden to the whole family. and even if she hasn’t said it, a part of her wonders if her mom thinks the same as her. that if it hadn’t been for her, he’d still be here right now.

it’s all ahyoung’s fault as to why she’s here. she just refuses to admit it because she wants to still find herself likeable.

she doesn’t want to believe her mother’s words, no matter how much they apply to her.

what is your biggest secret? (when answering this question, know that this answer is confidential and only the highness of your kingdom will read it.)

“fuck off.”

they did not need to know about her guilt over the accident. no one needed to know that she was the one who was driving the car. that had she been more careful, this whole entire situation could’ve been avoided. sure she didn’t mean to do it. the accident was simply an accident! but even then, the girl wakes up in the middle of some nights drenched in sweat, haunted by the nightmares in which she sees the car crashing right into them, the car flipping over on its side and how she screams for her dad’s name before she sees black.

she doesn’t trust herself to get behind the wheel. hell, she can’t even trust herself to be at the front seats. she knows it’s not her fault. she knows that it’s not her fault that the car came at her. their light was green, after all. it was the other driver’s fault. but even so, she remembers waking up in that hospital room and crying when she heard of the news. because at the end of the day, she was the one near him. she could’ve saved him at that moment.

but she didn’t.

what is your biggest regret?

kwak ahyoung is a flawed human being.

regardless if it was against her wishes, she could have complied with her mother’s pleas of getting her into the royal life earlier on. that way, she wouldn’t be as much of a burden in the family.

she wouldn’t have burdened her father with a wish that he’d have to fight with the hopes of it coming true and seeing her smile. so that way, on the day after his funeral, she wouldn’t have been told by her mother about how she had to make it up to him for burdening him so long until the day that he died.

that way, she wouldn’t have yelled at jun for leaving her for the royal life, seeing him doing it for his family as an “act of betrayal” because he told her a completely different reason. she wouldn’t have cursed at him and told him that she hope she’d never see him again.

she wouldn’t be here in this palace, despite her wishes against it, because of the accident that was caused by her. because of her father’s sacrifice for her.

with a sigh, she writes down her last answer before completing her report.

“surviving.”

#cwnroyalreport #( SOLO. )#( TASK. )#tagging bc mentioned!#cwndabin #cwnjaejin #cwnhyunsu #cwnjun

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kiss-my-freckle · 2 years

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The Blacklist, 9x7

"People aren’t good or bad, Aram. Whatever I’ve done - It’s all me.” - Elizabeth

They call it "good cop-bad cop" for a reason. That's what this image represents, and a concept that centers Ressler's episode - Between Sleep and Awake. Trust this union won’t last. Liz was Ressler’s wife. This is how you keep a dead rapist alive and relevant for the sake of a memory wipe reveal.

Everything in this episode weaves in and out of eachother, so expect this to be a long post because it’s full of dialogues and parallels.

Samar: I can't believe Reddington didn't come. Ressler: I can. He knows this is his fault.

Ressler: He killed her! He may not have pulled the trigger. But she's dead because of him.

The difference between S3 & S8 Liz, is blame. Red was the core reason Liz faked her death, but Tom is the core reason she’s now dead. I'm taking note to the rearview mirror theme. The last time Dom saw his daughter was in his rearview mirror 30 years ago because she changed her face.

Red: The last time you saw Katarina was in the rearview mirror.

Dom: Last time I saw my daughter was in this rearview mirror nearly 30 years ago.

Barber: You alright, son? You look like you've seen a ghost. Ressler: Not a ghost. But... someone I used to know.

Resurrecting a father.

In the spirit of looking back. From Agnes to Liz to Ressler.

Cooper: Elizabeth had a will. She designated me and Charlene as Agnes' legal guardians. I think she'd want us to look forward, not back.

Liz: I’m expecting a call. Red: A personal one, I hope. I’m sure it’s been difficult since Tom. But you have Agnes now. You should be looking forward, not back. You deserve a bigger life.

Liz: But when it comes to family, it’s complicated. I know that’s true for me. You know better than anyone, I haven’t always been my best self. I don’t think any of us have. Honestly, I think you should give her the benefit of the doubt. I think in a situation like this, we should give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

♪ (Her color, her color, her color is coming back Her color, her color, her color) Quit all that, quit all of that, quit all of that looking back ♪

Cooper: I just got off the phone with Rebecca Hagens, head of the FBI disciplinary committee. She's been sitting at your hearing for half-hour. She says you haven't shown up. I encouraged her to give you the benefit of the doubt after everything you've done for your country and allow for a little more time, but I can only do so much. Where are you? Ressler: I'm looking forward, not back. You said this is what Keen would want. Cooper: What she'd want is for you to look forward to clearing your name. Which you can still do if you can get there soon enough.

The difference I’ve been pointing out between Liz and Hannah Hayes is every bit the difference between Liz and Theodore’s mother. Liz had no idea she was abused and raped of her memories. So following that same concept, you have Theodore’s mother NOT looking back. I’m referring to her as “woman” because I have no idea what her name is.

Woman: We left the next morning and never looked back. Ressler: And you didn't go to the police because he was the police. Woman: Shane's a powerful man where we're from. Everyone told me I couldn't just run from my problems, but I didn't see another way out.

Liz can’t run from her problems if she keeps taking them with her. This is why Liz was stuck in a character cycle. She got herself stuck in a single abusive act. The entire point.

Ressler: Hey. No judgment here. I'm the poster child for running away from mine. But if he's as bad as you say he is, he'll be back.

If Liz wanted a fresh start, she should’ve shed Tom at the door.

Woman: If you're looking for a fresh start, so am I.

Liz: I don’t know. I’m kind of into empty. I get to take my time. Fill it with what I want. Make it my own. A new start.

That’s why there’s constant reference to Liz and her new beginning.

Because as long as she brings her problems with her, she won’t break that cycle. She'll have one new beginning after another.

Woman: This is from when he threw me into our glass coffee table. It shattered, and I ended up with stitches. Oh, and... this was a fun one. One morning, we got into a fight because I stayed out later than expected with a girlfriend at dinner. He threw a cup of coffee at me, and it splashed all over my foot, giving me third-degree burns.

That’s why Liz is dead. Because she thought Tom would change.

Red: Men like Tom don’t change.

The concept. Men like Tom don’t change. Wash, rinse, repeat with the same abusive man.

Ressler: That's unforgivable. Woman: And yet... I always forgave him. He'd apologize after, bring me flowers. I always thought the next time would be different, that I could help him be better.

Apparently, nothing is unforgivable.

Liz: Forgiveness can’t change the past, but I believe it can change the future.

Tom changed the future by destroying Liz.

Liz: We’re too late.

When you stay with an abusive man, expect to end up dead. Ressler was too late in saving Liz. The question is whether he’ll be there to save Agnes. She’s at risk of a Djinn repeat, of being the little devil Liz assumed she was having. This is where the wheelchair theme comes in for Little Red Riding Hood.

Agnes: I got all the way across without touching the floor.

I’m saying Agnes will end up in a wheelchair for some reason or another. Because she’s Little Red.

Liz: Go get your shoes on, okay? Go on.

Girl shoes to boy shoes.

Ressler: Turns out babysitting's not that bad after all.

It’s not babysitting when it’s your own kid. It’s parenting.

Ressler: I may look like that green smiley face, but I feel like the red devil bawling his eyes out.

If it’s a Djinn repeat, it’ll be Ressler and his son just like Dom and his.

Liz: I’m expecting a little devil of my own.

Ressler: It’s never gonna happen. Not on my watch.

This is where Ressler’s dialogue offers hope.

Sutherland: You could take care of business right now and be back for tea. For a surcharge, I’ll even watch the cherub.

Imposter Katarina: She’s an angel.

A chance Agnes will become a boy, a chance she’ll remain a girl.

Agnes: My mom doesn’t like me getting dirty.

Theodore: My mom doesn't let me drink soda.

Expect big things from Agnes either way. They’re aging her for it.

Ressler: I didn't know it at the time, but that car wasn't the only thing I was fixing. I mean, when I started, it was... it was broken. Nothing about it worked. It was... It was dead to the world. But when I finished, I looked at that car, I thought... Well, I didn't think anything. I just... I felt something. Something I hadn't felt in a long time.

Red: Car’s on life support, but you’re doing fine. What’s it gonna take to get rid of you?

Little Red. Refer back to the rearview mirrors.

Add in the parallel to the buses in Nachalo.

Red: You were wrong about him once. What makes you so sure you’re not wrong this time? Do you really want your child to pay the price for that mistake for the rest of his or her life?

The end has yet to be written. HIS OR HER life. Gender switch is possible. I think it’s entirely up to Ressler and how fast he learns the truth.

Theodore: My dad died too. Ressler: I thought that was your dad at the motel. Theodore: Who? Shane? No. He's not my dad. He's my stepdad. My real dad had a pulmonary embolism. Whatever that means.

Pulmonary embolism: A condition in which one or more arteries in the lungs become blocked by a blood clot.

Doctor: His lung is putting pressure on his heart. He needs a chest tube now! Let's go, people!

Ressler shot in the lung, then transported in a hearse.

Liz: This isn't the end. Not for you.

Theodore: You were right. He was a bad guy. Woman: No. I wasn't. You were right. You saw the good in him when I couldn't. And he saved us. Theodore: If he's so good, then why'd he just walk away? Woman: I know it might be hard for you to understand, but he's in a lot of pain.

The “good” cops.

Ressler: And this? Am I free, or is this a stay of execution?

Theodore: Um, well, I didn't want to touch a dead person with my hand. Ressler: Well, I'm not dead, so...

Ressler: Nothing about it worked. It was... It was dead to the world.

Let's give it up for Agnes’ father. He’s still alive.

Woman: Theodore's a really special kid. With such an open heart. I won't let anyone take that from him.

The difference between special and very special. Add in The Endling heart surgery. Yet another option they can choose for Agnes’ storyline.

Red: A bottle of wine you made with Sam when you were a child. Happy birthday, Lizzie. You’ve become everything Sam dreamed you would and more. Share it with someone special.

Ressler: Oh, look at you! Liz: I’ve been saving this for a special occasion.

Aunt Cindy: So, you got anybody special back in D.C., Donnie? When am I gonna start seeing some nieces and nephews?

Barber: You sure shine up like a new penny. Where you off to? Somewhere special? Ressler: Something like that.

The spouse is special. The child is very special.

Red: Oh, I think you’re very special.

Liz: I’m afraid not, honey.

Florist: Oh. Honey. I think we can do better. If you ask me, carnations are the sad flower of weddings past.

The point. Weddings past. “Honey” for the birds and the bees.

Florist: Did you have a color in mind? The pink and the red are both so lovely. Ressler: She likes the purple. Florist: Ah! Is she impulsive? Unpredictable? Ressler: If it's all the same to you, I'm in a bit of a hurry.

The concept of same and different. It’s not all the same for Liz.

Red: Your mother was never the same after that.

Becoming a completely diffferent person. Liz used to be just like Ressler.

Florist: Well, it sounds like she is about the luckiest woman alive. To have someone give so much thought and attention to a moment like this. You... You really see her. And if she has no more sense than a titmouse, she's gonna say yes. Ressler: Oh, this isn't... I'm not gonna, uh... Florist: Is she expecting it? I hope not. A proposal's so much better when it's a surprise.

Agnes’ father never proposed to Liz. Her stepfather did.

Agnes: What is that? Liz: Did I ever tell you how your Daddy asked me to marry him?

That’s why Liz isn’t the luckiest woman alive. She’s dead. The concept of luck continues with the luck of the unicorn.

Woman: He was right. I was lucky to have you in my corner. But... maybe you're lucky too. 'Cause I'm in yours. Ressler: Look. I got a lot of luck. It's just... It's never good. Woman: Then maybe it's about to change.

Liz: I can’t find my sock. Ressler: We’re gonna try and stop you. Liz: It’s purple with little unicorns on it. Agnes thinks unicorns are good luck. Ressler: Unicorn socks to protect against Reddington. Liz: You got any better ideas? Ressler: Yeah. Don’t go after him.

Agnes Did they bring you luck? Liz: Oh, yeah. They did, honey. So much. You want to see what else brings me luck?

Ressler's been having "bad luck" because of Tom. He's gonna take his own advice and continue working with Red. That's why their stationary has unicorns on it. Ressler is lucky because he has Red in his corner. Take note the unicorn is quite literally in the corner of the page.

And since we’re on the birds and the bees, add in the new wrinkle.

Liz: The birds and the bees? Lemme tell you, there’s a whole new wrinkle.

Aram: Um, the birds and the bees? What’s the new wrinkle?

Ressler: And no one’s the wiser because dead men tell no tales. Even about their seed.

Ressler: What? I like to hydrate. You know, gingers tend to wrinkle.

Chang: You’re not the problem, Mr. Reddington. My programmers are scrambling to build content for your plus one. She’s the wrinkle here.

This motel scene with Ressler parallels Ilya’s in Rassvet. Krilov scrambled Ressler’s brain like an egg. Break the egg into the water. What do you see? Ressler has a plus one.

“Alternate history.” Ressler fixing his hair, throwing in eye drops.

♪ (Her color, her color, her color is coming back Her color, her color, her color) Quit all that, quit all of that, quit all of that looking back ♪

The truth he has yet to see. The true “new beginning” for Liz. The new husband, “honey” Ressler. Their daughter, “honey” Agnes. The life taken from Liz by Tom’s memory wipe.

Ressler: It's a long story. Woman: You were a decorated agent, now you work in a small-town garage. However long that story takes to tell, I'd like to hear it. Ressler: Well, I appreciate it. But, uh - it's not a story I can tell. Not yet, anyway.

"Alone is hard." That's why Ressler won't be alone. He'll have his daughter, and she'll be the one hearing his story.

Agnes: Mommy, who’s that funny-looking man? Liz: It’s a long story. But we finally have time to tell it.

The difference beween Red's business... and Liz's.

Shane: What happened to your face? Put it somewhere it didn't belong?

Ressler: I tried to mind my own business, but... Yeah. You know me. That wasn't always possible.

Red: I won’t tell you something that’s none of your business. It was none of Tom’s business.

Ressler stepped into Red's world and got his ass kicked.

Theodore: Sometimes I think I can still see him. Like... at the grocery store or the park. And for a second, I just forget.

This is every bit Red's letter to Ressler.

Red: There will be nightmares. And every day, when you wake up, it will be the first thing you think about. Until one day, it will be the second thing.

Liz: But I’m not alone.

Ressler: I'm happy you're not alone.

Between Sleep and awake. Liz isn't alone. She's with her father, her grandfather, and her nanny. Through Agnes, Ressler will get his wish. He and Liz will go on adventures together. Climb mountains... explore galaxies. How do you reveal a memory wipe without Krilov? Simple.

Ressler: I told Harold that I was coming tonight, and he said that Agnes wants today to be a celebration of your life, not a memory of your death.

Ressler: Park had a cancer scare because I borrowed her urine for a drug test and it came back with elevated hormone levels.

Doctor: What it means is, you were pregnant.

Cooper: We've been going through photo albums recently and found this. Agnes wanted you to have it.

Every bit what I've been saying. Agnes will be the reason Ressler tosses his pills. An 11 year-old girl who's doing "amazingly well" because her father is amazing.

Liz: I mean, we all know how amazing you are, but you’re pushing 40 with no prospects. Why let your cousin in on that? Ressler: Because it’s the truth, the part about me being amazing.

♪ And my love is an anchor tied to you Tied with a silver chain I have my ship And all her flags are a-flying ♪

Ressler: They robbed me. Theodore: Who? Burglars? Pirates? That's so cool! You should call the cops, though. They can help. Ressler: Trust me, wherever the pirates took my stuff, it's not coming back. Theodore: So it was pirates!

Tom and Dr. Krilov.

Ressler: It’s not about him and me. It’s about him. I mean, he laid a hand on you. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no coming back from that.

Why Shane (and Tom) had to die. The "bad" cops.

Woman: You want to pay me back? Don't let him find us. Ressler: Hey. You looking for a room? Shane: I'm looking for these two. I'm from downstate. We got a tip she's working at a motel along this stretch of highway.

Tom didn’t find Liz, she found him.

Tom: Liz, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Liz: I have a lead, something that could clear all of this up, but I need your help.

Again, exactly why Jennifer is dead.

Jennifer: Before he found you, could you have done it – what you did in the RV? Liz: She can’t be hard to locate. And when we find her, we find out who Reddington really is. Jennifer: Could you have done it? Liz: I don’t think so. No. Jennifer: So he did this to you. Liz: What difference does it make? We’re so close! Jennifer: The difference that it makes is that I’m worried that he’s gonna do it to me.

Because men like Tom don’t change.

Jennifer: He - He removed your memories. Who does that? Who can do that?

Ressler: Tell me who you are and why the police are looking for you. Woman: I really don't want to talk about this. Ressler: And normally I wouldn't insist, but I lied to a police officer for you. Woman: I'm not a criminal if that's what you're worried about. Ressler: Well, you sure acted like one. Come on. Why was he looking for you? Woman: He's my husband. Ressler: Why are you running from him? Woman: This is from when he threw me into our glass coffee table.

This fits Liz's character. She's in a Deer Hunter parallel. What would happen to Theodore and his mother had she stayed with Shane just as Liz stayed with Tom...

Theodore and his mother would be dead. That’s why Agnes is next.

Parallel to Liz’s Wing Yee birthday dinner with Ressler. How do you have him find his own ginger child? Show him a photo of Masha/Liz with red/blonde hair, or remind him that Agnes had red hair. Celebrating a life.

Keenler’s Landslide soundtrack for this post.

"Climb mountains... explore galaxies."

♪ I took my love, I took it down I climbed a mountain and I turned around ♪

Children get older. When Ressler sees his reflection in a ginger haired baby picture of Agnes...

Polaris. The North Star.

#Anti-Tom Keen #Anti-Keen2 #Keenler baby theory #My memory wipe theory

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

Text

February 13: Star Trek Beyond

Some attempted thoughts on Star Trek Beyond.

So first it was bad lol. It is the worst. I thought maybe it would be less the worst than I had previously thought but it really, really is just irredeemably bad.

Trying to keep up with what was actually happening and talk in the group chat was too difficult and I now feel very exhausted lol. And I’m not even sure what I watched.

I liked Jaylah a lot, including her back story, characterization, “house,” traps, and cool mirror tricks.

I also like Kirk in that emergency uniform with the jacket unzipped.

That’s it! That’s all I liked.

In the past I’ve also said I liked the Spock and Bones parts but I honestly wasn’t a fan of them either this time around!

None of the characters felt IC and none of the relationships felt true or were compelling. Which is particularly egregious given that the alleged theme was strength in unity.

The movie was especially lacking in K/S content or even K & S interaction, which obviously didn’t please me. And it’s definitely the worst Kirk characterization I’ve ever seen. There’s no excuse for that either because it’s halfway through the 5YM, which means he should be pretty close to TOS Kirk--yes, he has a different set of experiences, so there’s going to be some variation, but there’s comparatively less excuse for a radically different characterization than in STXI and STID. They should have had Shatner read the script and make notes lol because whatever else you might say about him he KNOWS Captain Kirk.

Like, he (Kirk) lacked humor and charm and, often, confidence. He had moments when he was very smart and moments when he had a commanding presence. But he had just as many moments when he was whiny or bored and his Captain’s log??? I deserve financial compensation for every time I’ve listened to that. Bored of space?? No, this man is bored when he’s stuck on Earth. He stagnates in desk jobs. He is an adventurer and explorer before he’s ANYTHING else; if you don’t get that, you don’t need to be writing Star Trek.

Also, as I have frequently complained, I’m tired of him having no internal conflict or emotional complexity past his father issues. First reboot movie: dealing with his dead father’s memory and his step-father’s abuse. Fine, that makes sense for how they set up the AU. Second reboot movie: entirely motivated by the need for Manly Vengeance upon the person who killed his father figure. And for this redundant story line (in many sense) we had to lose Pike? Third reboot movie: you’d think he’d finally be ready to move on to other conflicts but actually no this time he’s sad about his birthday and having a longer life span than his...you guessed it!! father!! Yet again.

What else has ever motivated him? Legitimate question.

The destruction of the Enterprise was truly horrific. Long, boring, unwarranted, and without any emotional punch. As if it were just any ship! No, she’s a character in her own right and she’s not to be sacrificed like that but please tell me again how Simon Pegg is a true fan who brought the franchise back to its roots?

B said he did like that they split up the crew into unusual units but I have mixed feelings about it. I don’t entirely disagree, but I don’t think they did a lot that was interesting with any of those separated units. Uhura and Sulu are a cool pair (but this would have been a good opportunity to include Sulu’s semi-canonical crush on Uhura but whatever... a different rant) and they almost did some interesting stuff with them. There were glimmers of a caper in that story line and times when I could tell they were straining especially hard to make Uhura, their Sole Female Main--now that they cut out Rand, Chapel, and even Carol Marcus--into something Feminist and Interesting. But it didn’t quite gel for me. Like, Uhura would be having almost interesting dialogue with the villain and holding her own...and then she loses track of her colleague and has to watch that person die, thus undercutting everything she just said about unity and seeming to prove the villain’s point. Is she competent or not?

Bones and Spock are a pair I care about and like but again I think their canonical relationship in TOS is more interesting than STB showed. I personally read them as like...reluctant best friends who originally just had one person in common, and then realized they also like each other too, but they’ll never really say it. They understand each other but pretend not to. They have fun with the barbs they throw at each other. They both deeply love Jim but in different ways. They enjoy their intellectual debates. (That’s one thing that was definitely missing from them here! The intellectual debates!) So again, there was something there but not enough.

And Kirk and Chekov just happened to land near each other; nothing was done with that relationship per se. They really aren’t people who have much of a relationship in TOS so there’s not a lot to work off of but then on the other hand there IS an opportunity to create something new. Maybe I’m being too harsh and too vague but it just didn’t gel for me. The only specific K and C moment I remember was that supremely un-funny joke about Kirk’s aim as he sets off the “wery large bomb.”

But like there are possibilities.. they’re both pretty horny and Chekov is a whiz kid and Kirk is also very smart and has always been smart... Like in other words people Chekov’s age don’t end up on the bridge crew, in either ‘verse, without the Captain’s say, so even though he’s TOS!Spock’s and AOS!Scotty’s protege, Kirk is important to his life. Something with that maybe??

I’m upset that Spock’s individual story line was about whether or not he should go off and make baby Vulcans because, again as I have complained many times before, that was a conflict he faced and resolved in ten minutes two movies ago, and it doesn’t make sense to me for him to bring it up again now just because the Ambassador is dead. Like... the Ambassador told him to stay in Starfleet!! “Ah, yes, I will honor him by doing precisely the opposite of what he wanted me to do.”

Also--if they had made his motivation different or gone into it more, I would have been more into it. Make it about New Vulcan! Say there’s news from New Vulcan that it’s not doing well. Or what if T’Pring got in contact with him? Or what if we used this as an excuse to bring in Sarek?

This is part of a larger point for me which is that STXI set up a really cool AU and STID tried to do something with it--a little hit or miss, but it tried--and instead of pushing even more at the AU and developing it more and doing more with it... STB just ignored it! Was that part of what Paramount was warning about with making it “not too Star Trek-y?” Was it SUPPOSED to be a movie you could watch without having seen the last two? If so they did succeed but like.. .why? They made the supremely ballsy move of blowing up a founding Federation planet two movies ago and now they’ve just forgotten about that and all the reverberations that would necessarily have?

But of course we got a call back to Kirk being a Beastie Boys fan so.... Guess it was Deep all along.

We all three agreed that the core story of this film was potentially interesting but could have been done as a 50-some minute episode of a TV series rather than a whole-ass 2 hour movie. First off, cutting or cutting down the action sequences would have shaved off half an hour easily.

I’m frustrated in large part because there are certain things that are interesting here. I do like the concept of the crew being pulled on to an alien planet by a ship of former Federation crew, from the early days of the Federation/deep space flight, who were presumed missing but are somehow still alive because they have turned into aliens/used alien tech to prolong life, and who have also captured other aliens, like Jaylah, for the main crew to interact with. All of that was cool.

I would even be okay with these old Federation crew being villains but I don’t think that’s necessary or even the most interesting take.

But...first of all, as my mom pointed out, Krall was basically Nero in his illogical motivations: feeling aggrieved because someone who couldn’t help him didn’t help him and then just maniacally wanting revenge. It made more sense to me with Nero in a way. Maybe that was because he was better characterized, maybe it was because his anger was more personal (the loss of his wife), maybe--probably--it was because he was angry at Spock and Spock had actually promised to help, so there was some kernel of logic in his sense of betrayal, even if it was out of proportion etc. Also, Nero’s mania was portrayed as mania--we were all supposed to recognize that the strength of his emotion was warranted but his logic was deeply flawed. I think we were supposed to think Krall had some kinda... real criticism of the Federation, but in fact he doesn’t! He’s wrong! So like if he’d been angry with the Federation for abandoning him but the narrative and the other characters explicitly recognize that he’s wrong--the Federation tried but he was just doing something very dangerous and he recognized that danger on signing on--that might have been more palatable to me.

I’m not sure I’m making sense here entirely or explaining myself as well as I could.

I just don’t entirely get Krall’s beef with the Federation. I don’t get that whole “being a soldier and having conflict makes you strong and having people you can rely on and connections and community makes you weak.” That seems pretty obviously false. It also doesn’t really seem, not that I’m an expert, but particularly in line with military ethos either.

BUT the idea that he had a life that was comfortable to him as a soldier and then the Federation comes in and forms Starfleet and says, actually, we’re going to pull back on the soldiering and up the diplomacy and the exploration and the science--yeah, I could see that. I DO think Starfleet is military but even if you must insist it’s not, it’s clearly based on and formed from the military, and it has certain military functions. So obviously the first people to join or be folded into Starfleet probably were more explicitly military.

So he’s one of those people. Now he’s supposed to be a scientist and a diplomat and an explorer and he doesn’t like that. He’s given this very prestigious and interesting mission and jumps at it. Starfleet warns him, you might go beyond where we can reach, we might not be able to help you. That’s fine. But then when his ship is stranded and he is lost, he gets angry--maybe somewhat irrationally, but understandably--why?? Why did the Federation do this to him? What was even the point? When he put himself in danger before, at least he knew why. But just flying around space for the hell of it, and this is the cost? So that’s what creates his anger.

I thin this could be tied into Kirk’s diplomacy at the beginning--if the scene were written to not be a comedy bit where Kirk looks like an incompetent buffoon and is completely disrespectful the whole time. He’s good at this job and we should say it. But we could emphasize that this IS a diplomatic mission often, just as often as it’s a military or scientific mission. Maybe we could include other bits of their missions, too, to play up the variety of things they do and roles they play.

Another thing I think could be interesting, going back to my point about Spock, Vulcan, and using the first two movies and expanding on the world building... what if Spock wanted to leave Starfleet for better, more well-defined reasons, and we used that? Paralleled the two? Connected the two?

Because I think Vulcan in the AOS verse is very interesting and the movies didn’t do nearly enough with it. First, we have the Romulans showing up way earlier, at least visibly: in TOS, no one knew what they looked like or their connection to Vulcans until Spock is in his late 30s. In AOS, it happens not long after he’s born. So he’s growing up probably with more anti-Vulcan racism floating around the Federation. THEN Vulcan is destroyed. Now it has nothing and it needs to rely on the rest of the Federation, which must be both humbling and frustrating to many Vulcans, on top of the extreme tragedy of losing everything. Most of their population, a lot of their history, their manufacturing, their scientific facilities, their resources, their animals, literally whatever else you can think of that a planet has--all gone. Now all of the survivors have lived some period on an alien planet, by definition, and they’re probably very dependent on the Federation not just to set up the new colony, but to replace all of the resources--natural and Vulcan-made--that they lost. And they’re a founding Federation member, Earth’s first contact. They’re especially important. And now they’re weak, and reliant on others.

So maybe Spock, early on, hears from New Vulcan and they’re not doing well. Maybe we hear from Sarek or T’Pring (...I’d just like to see reboot T’Pring). Maybe it’s not about, or just about, having children, but about being from an important and ancient family, and being seen as a hero for his part in the Narada mission, that makes him want to go and help rebuild their government (taking his mother’s place perhaps? she was on the High Council) or their scientific facilities, or the VSA, or their space travel capabilities--you know Vulcan had space ships of their own, outside of Federation ships. This would be the perfect place to showcase that tension between wanting to be independent--out of pride, out of fear, even--and needing help, because Vulcan could not survive without the Federation, probably less than 10 years out from the original planet’s destruction.

And then you feed it back into Krall.

So I could see like... well the tension, and then Krall comes in, and he's angry that the Federation "abandoned" him, but we actually explicitly address this. Maybe Spock gets to interact with him and say "I get it. You had a life and a mission and a purpose that was comfortable for you. Then the Federation came in and changed everything. A lot of my people are also feeling upset for similar reasons. But here's why actually you're wrong."

So anyway as you can see I’m smarter and more interesting than Simon Pegg.

I also hated, speaking of writers of this movie, the gay Sulu thing and HEAR ME OUT on this. It’s homophobic. His husband doesn’t have a name? Might not be his husband at all? Looks like he could be his nanny or his brother? As B said “at least grab his butt or something.” That was the most sanitized, no-homo depiction of a gay person I’ve ever seen. He’s gay (see, progressives and queers! gay! you like that right!) but DON’T WORRY STRAIGHTS--he’s in a monogamous relationship and has a child, he’ll show nothing but the most platonic physical affection with his male significant other, and the plot point will be so minuscule you’ll need a microscope to detect it. Also, we’ll throw in a no homo joke about two male characters not wanting to hug and we’ll make sure Kirk and Spock interact as little as possible, because we know they give off Big Queer Vibes every time they’re together.

Yes the last point is a little unfair but can you blame me for being angry about all the “look how hip to the times we are” back-patting that went on in 2016 when canonical bisexual Kirk is RIGHT THERE and we could have had ex-boyfriend Gary Mitchell instead of Unnamed Nanny??

Also Sulu is a hella random choice because again, like... he may not have had an s.o. in TOS but nor was there any indication he was gay. So it seems a LITTLE like they picked him because (1) his original actor is gay and gay people can’t play straight people duh so probably Sulu was Gay All Along I mean did you not get vibes???; and/or (2) asexual Asian stereotypes preclude giving Sulu any kind of love interest, male or female, that is actually... sexual, outright romantic, anything.

Anyway I can’t remember if I had any other thoughts, but I’ve said quite enough I think.

I miss Kirk so much... real Kirk... even my version of AOS Kirk who is probably not even characterized that well but at least I worked with love!!!

#the year 2021 #2021: star trek #2021: fandom thoughts #star trek aos #anti-beyond

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

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Chapter 9 - David and Patrick open up some boxes and have a difficult discussion.

Summary: Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him. After a rom-com worthy reunion, David decides he won't walk away again.

Read this chapter here; read from the beginning on A03 here. TW: this chapter contains discussion of depression and past suicidal thoughts.

******

The next morning it’s still raining, and between that and the scrapes on his knees David decides that he’s not going out for a run. He can skip a day when he has to, at least now when his anxiety has relaxed the steel grip it used to have on him.

The gray light peeking through the blinds makes the room feel cozy, and David wiggles a bit under the covers, letting himself enjoy the rare opportunity to sleep in. Of course, it wouldn’t be the same at all without Patrick lying next to him, curled up against David’s side and snoring softly.

David cups his hand around the curve of Patrick’s arm, his fingers tucking under the edge of his t-shirt. Patrick snuffles adorably and strokes his palm down David’s chest. David can tell the moment when Patrick wakes up enough to remember just where he is, and where they are, and his hand stills.

David lays his hand gently over Patrick’s, twining their fingers together and pressing it against his chest. It’s okay, he thinks to himself, and to Patrick. We’re okay.

“Do you remember when we slept on that air mattress?” David asks, the memory coming to him unbidden, something about the act of Patrick waking up a little bit confused prompting it into his brain.

“Hmm, yeah,” Patrick says after a moment, his voice quiet against David’s shoulder. “The first night in my new apartment, before all the furniture came. It squeaked.”

“I woke up every time you turned over,” David says. “And every time, you put your arm back over me and kissed me right through my complaints.”

Patrick blinks his eyes open and gazes at David. “You seemed to like it well enough at the time.”

David hides his smile against Patrick’s arm. “I did.”

Patrick snorts. “Tell me you didn’t do it on purpose.”

David gasps, mockingly affronted. “I would never.”

“Sure.”

“At least, not the first few times.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, David rubbing his thumb along the back of Patrick’s hand as they listen to the rain coming down outside the window. Every once in a while there’s a far off rumble of thunder. David feels like he’s in a little cocoon, safe indoors with Patrick.

“We were really good together, weren’t we?” Patrick asks, unable to keep a twinge of sadness out of his words.

“We were,” David says, shifting so that he can look at Patrick. “And we are.”

Patrick stares at him then, then nods and tucks his face into the crook of David’s neck, his hand grasping tighter at David’s. David marvels at himself, that he didn’t say “we will be” or some other hopeful statement of future possibility. He’s not sure where this confidence has come from, but he clings to it like Alexis to a Prada bag.

It’s not that he thinks it will be easy, merging their lives back together. But he really thinks they can. They already are.

David hadn’t been sure about offering to stay longer here with Patrick. At first he had been waiting for Patrick to ask him; he thought it wouldn’t be right to raise it himself. After all, David was the one that insisted on coming with Patrick, back at the airport when he realized that Patrick was headed to Florida and not to Toronto. He didn’t want to push himself onto Patrick again. He wasn’t certain that his continued presence would be wanted.

But then after a few days together it became clear to David that Patrick was no longer the take-charge guy he used to be, at least not right now. Patrick is hurting, and his self-confidence has taken a beating. He didn’t seem likely to go out on a limb and risk further damage, a concept that David is all too familiar with. So David called in a favor with his assistant, and asked him to send down some of his favorite warm weather clothes, just in case.

He couldn’t be more pleased with how it turned out, Patrick so clearly happy that David isn’t going home yet. And it’s true that David can work remotely, at least for a while. It helps that his boss (ie, his dad) is so invested in the reason David wants to stay in Florida. He’s lucky that Johnny didn’t suggest opening up a satellite office on Patrick’s lanai.

“I’ve never been to therapy,” Patrick says tentatively, pulling David out of his thoughts. “What was it like?”

David almost comments on the non sequitur, then decides it really isn’t one. They need to be able to talk about what each of them have been through these past few years, and if this is Patrick’s way of asking about David, when they’re curled up together under the covers on a rainy morning, he’s not going to question it. It’s not a topic with a natural segue.

“Well, it wasn’t my first rodeo, you know.” He’s about to launch into something humorous, making light of his adolescent struggles, but then he changes course. Patrick is asking seriously, and he deserves a serious answer. He’s fortunate that his latest experience with therapy went as well as it did. “A lot depends on whether you have the right therapist, someone who can push you enough to make progress without making you so pissed off that you stop going.”

“That makes sense.”

“Luckily this time around I did have someone good, on the first try even. A woman in Toronto. I thought I’d hate her at first, she was young and had too many piercings…”

“A therapist with piercings?”

“I know, not the sterotype, right? And she had this one in her eyebrow, it was not a good look for her… but she’s good for me.”

Patrick shifts against David, and David knows without looking at him that he’s got a little frown on his forehead, that’s he’s thinking too much about his next question. “Do you still talk to her?”

“I do. Not on a regular schedule, but every few weeks or month or so, when I have something I want to talk about, or just to check in.”

“Have you talked to her about me? I mean, now?”

Have I ever, David thinks. “Yes. And before you ask, she won’t exactly say whether she thinks it’s a good idea or not, but I think she’s secretly shipping us pretty hard.”

Patrick laughs, and David turns towards him, capturing his mouth in a light, silly kiss.

“I’m glad she approves,” Patrick says, a waver in his voice.

David wants to reassure him, to tell him that everyone does, but he knows it’s not that simple. “It’s not as if Alexis disapproves,” he says.

“She’s just worried for you,” Patrick fills in.

“Yeah.” That’s an understatement. “It, um, it wasn’t good, for me, right after we broke up. And she was there for all of that, so.”

Patrick reaches over and pushes a strand of hair off David’s face, his fingers lingering on his cheek and then resting back on David’s chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”

David’s heart suddenly races, and he wonders if Patrick can feel it. He has known that this moment was coming, that he has to tell Patrick what happened. And he knows, he really does, that Patrick won’t judge. Patrick has been open with him, and David needs to do the same. Keeping things in boxes never worked for them, not in the long run, and it won’t work now either. But no matter how reasonable it seems, David has still been dreading it.

“Yeah,” David says. “Okay.” Patrick shifts closer, and slides his free arm around David, so that David is surrounded by him, Patrick up against his back and breathing softly against his neck. He almost cries, before he even gets started, at this signal from Patrick that he’s loved.

He gives himself a moment to take it in, the fact that he’s going to be telling this story but with Patrick’s arms wrapped around him, and begins. “So, not long after we broke up, one of my mom’s castmates from Sunrise Bay let us use their house in the Hamptons for a while. I don’t know if you’ve ever been, but the summers are pretty much non-stop parties out there, all the rich and famous celebrities and wanna-be’s blowing off steam and abusing every substance they can get their hands on. It was easy to join in, and slip back into some bad habits.”

Patrick nods his head against David’s shoulder, letting David know he’s listening.

“One night at a party, after far too many drinks and a particularly embarrassing social interaction with Neil Patrick Harris’ stylist – who is not as cute as he thinks he is - I decided I was going to leave. On the way back to the house I got into an accident with a driver that was even drunker than I was.”

Patrick holds David tighter, but David just takes a deep breath and goes on. It’s not going to get any easier.

“I broke my collarbone, which wasn’t any fun at all.” He can feel Patrick tensing next to him.

“Was the other driver…?”

“Totally uninjured, which was a fucking miracle, given how our cars looked.”

“Oh David,” Patrick says, his voice tight. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it was all me, no apology necessary.”

“Still, I’m sorry that happened to you. That must have been so scary.” Patrick squeezes David’s hand. “Was that why you stopped drinking?”

David feels his heart start to pound its way up towards his throat. “No, not exactly.” He takes a deep breath, and turns over to face Patrick. It feels wrong to have this conversation without looking at him. Whatever he finds there, he can’t afford to miss it. He needs to see Patrick there in front of him, even if the concern in Patrick’s eyes is almost too much to take. It’s better than the alternative.

He takes another deep breath, steadying himself, and begins the rest of the story. “When I left the party, I knew I couldn’t drive home safely, but I went anyway. Alexis caught me on the way out, begged me to wait until she called an Uber, but I didn’t listen. I actually had scratches on my forearm from her nails, where she tried to stop me.” David pauses for a moment, blinking away the memory of Alexis’ face as he pulled away. “I got in the car and sped out of there. And… I wasn’t drunkenly convinced I’d be fine, it wasn’t an error of judgement. I knew I was too drunk to drive, and I did it anyway. It felt good. It felt… freeing.”

David sees Patrick’s eyes fill with tears as he realizes what David is saying, and he hates himself for doing this to Patrick, just as he did it to his family.

“That’s what really scared me.” He tries to laugh, letting out something more like a sob. “I wouldn’t have thought the Rose family could have any more together time than we did when we lived in the motel, but it turns out I was wrong. My parents moved me into their place in Toronto, we found the good therapist, and I decided alcohol was not my friend. It was months before I moved out into my own apartment.”

Patrick is crying freely now, tears silently streaming down his cheeks. David wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him close.

“I’m sorry,” David says. “I didn’t want to tell you, but-”

“Oh god, David,” Patrick says, interrupting him. “Don’t apologize, oh my god, if you had – thank god you didn’t-”

“I’m okay now,” David tries to reassure him, knowing that it isn’t that easy. It took months for Alexis to stop texting him every few hours, thinking that if she kept tabs on him she could keep it from happening again. “I am, I promise. I haven’t felt that way since that night, not even for a minute.”

“Did you – did you really want to kill yourself?”

David has asked himself this question and tried to answer it a million times. “I think it was more like I was indifferent to it,” David says, which is what feels most like the truth. “I didn’t have a plan. I wasn’t going to drive into a tree or off a bridge. I just kind of didn’t care.”

Patrick suddenly sits up and pulls David up with him, until they are looking at each other straight in the eye. “David, you bring light into so many people’s lives. Into mine. You’ve made me happier than anyone ever has, you’ve given me the best moments of my life. You’re creative, and sexy, and gorgeous…” He stops for breath, and David gives him a sideways smile.

“Still not nice, though?”

Patrick freezes, then huffs out a laugh. “You asshole.”

David bites his lip. “I’m sorry, I’ve heard a lot of speeches over the past few years, and it’s not as if I don’t appreciate it, but…”

“But it doesn’t matter.”

“Not when you feel the way I felt. It’s depression, it’s your brain. No one telling you that you’re awesome can really fix it.” There’s a look on Patrick’s face that makes David think that maybe this is ringing a bell for Patrick, and he resolves to go back and revisit it. There’s a part of him that hopes that talking to Patrick about his own experience would maybe prompt Patrick to think about his own troubles, but he needs to let Patrick bring it up himself. Anyway, this conversation isn’t about Patrick, it’s about David, and he has to see it through. “I’m okay now, I really am,” David says.

Patrick grabs his arms, squeezing his biceps tight. “I’m so glad,” Patrick says, “god, more than glad, David…” He blows out an unsteady breath, his eyes flickering away and then back to David before asking, hesitantly, “But you still talk to your therapist. It can come back?”

And there it is, the fucking irony of it all. “Yeah, well, like I said, this wasn’t the first time.” David leans his head back and blinks at the ceiling fan. “Damaged goods.”

Patrick sweeps him into a crushing embrace, one hand holding David’s head tight against his own. “I’m not going anywhere, David, and I’m not letting you go, either. Not this time. I don’t care how miserable you feel – I mean, I care, I don’t want you to be miserable-” Patrick takes a quick breath – “but I’ll still be here, no matter what happens. You won’t chase me away. I’m never letting go of you.”

It’s then, at the end of this whole agonizing conversation, that David finally loses his composure, ugly sobs bursting out of him as he and Patrick cling to each other. He’s not sure how long it goes on. Patrick holds him as he shakes and cries, and whispers reassurances that are pointless but still feel pathetically wonderful.

Finally it subsides, and David finds himself curled up on Patrick’s chest, Patrick stroking his hand up and down his back. He raises himself up on an elbow, and presses his lips together as Patrick wipes his cheeks with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Well, that was a pleasant way to start the day, wasn’t it?” David manages.

David watches as Patrick stares at him, searching his face, and then apparently comes to some kind of decision, some Patrick-inspired solution to this emotionally torturous pothole. “We need pancakes,” Patrick says, sitting up and pushing David to do the same.

David stares at him. “I like pancakes,” he says, stating the obvious.

“I know.” Patrick slides out of bed. “And we’re not eating them here. We’re going out.”

“It’s raining.”

“You won’t melt.”

David feels a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I might.”

“Well then at least you’ll have pancakes first. Get up and get dressed, we’re leaving in twenty minutes.

It’s a welcome escape from the drama of the morning’s conversation, and not only that, a glimpse of the Patrick Brewer David remembers so well, cocky and sure of himself. It’s perfect.

“Give me thirty, and you have a deal.”

The little diner that Patrick takes them to is cute enough, and the pancakes are tasty, but David can’t seem to settle down. It feels like Patrick is looking at him differently, like he’s fragile, and David hates it. He stares at Patrick, sitting across from him in a booth that is nothing like Café Tropical and yet so familiar, until he can’t ignore the elephant in the room anymore.

“I’m really okay,” David says, interrupting an endless story about how Marcy always orders a veggie omelet with no cheese and egg whites but then gets a giant cinnamon roll along with it, and Patrick pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Okay…” Patrick says, his eyes finding David’s.

“You keep talking about random stuff but I know you’re thinking about something else. About me, about what I told you.”

Patrick’s face shifts into a half-hearted smirk. “It’s not always about you, David.”

“Mmmhm. Then what’s going on?”

Patrick sets his fork down, and suddenly David wishes he hadn’t asked, because Patrick looks nervous, and that can’t mean anything good. Has he changed his mind and realized that David really is too much to deal with? Did he finally succeed in frightening him away?

“What you told me actually gave me a lot of hope,” Patrick says slowly. “That you were – depressed-” he hesitates over the word, but gets it out. “But now you feel better.”

“It’s been up and down, but mostly up, lately,” David babbles, not sure what else to say.

“I think I was,” Patrick says, looking down at his plate. “Depressed. Am still, maybe. Although it’s been better, recently… something’s still wrong. I think I need help shaking it off.”

It hits him like a blow to the chest. It has been obvious that Patrick hasn’t been himself, the way Patrick had described losing his job, and what led to going out with Jamie the night of his attack, but it still hurts to hear Patrick say it. It’s not something that David would wish on anyone.

David knows Patrick didn’t grow up with therapy on Wednesday afternoons in between piano lessons and baseball, and until today, he doesn’t think they ever really had a serious conversation about it. And he’s fairly certain that Patrick considered David’s history with mental health issues to be something that only happened to people not named Brewer.

He reaches across the table and finds Patrick’s hand where he’s clutching his napkin. “This can be a very difficult thing to talk about,” he says. “I’m proud of you for saying it. I’ll be here for you, whatever you need. We can find you a therapist, a good one.”

“One with piercings?”

“Maybe even a sleeve tattoo.”

Patrick manages a weak grin. He knows David’s feelings on permanently marring your skin. But then his smile fades. “I hate that you’re so familiar with all of this.”

“Well, if it can help you at all, at least my experience can be good for something.”

Patrick shakes his head. “Oh my god, this is the worst date ever.”

“Was this a date? But I didn’t bring Stevie.” David can’t help bringing that up, it’s too perfect. And as planned, it makes Patrick laugh so hard he snorts, and has to shove his napkin over his mouth.

“Shut up. I suck at first dates, I get it.”

“Nope.” David gets up and slides around the table, sitting next to Patrick on the bench and draping his arms around his shoulders. “You don’t suck at it. You got us here, both times, and that’s what matters. You are relentlessly persistent when you put your mind to it. You can get through this, Patrick, you can.”

Patrick laces his arms around David’s waist and they sit there for a long moment, squished in between the back of the booth and the table, David rubbing the back of Patrick’s head and trying to ignore the fact that the elbow of his sweater is probably getting in the questionable syrup Patrick soaked his pancakes in.

“Is it wrong for me to wish that you could hug this out of me?” Patrick says into David’s neck. “I mean, it couldn’t be that easy, could it? You make me so happy. I’ve been happier this week than I have been in three years. Just stay right here. Don’t let go.”

David shrugs, smiling against Patrick’s head and pulling him tighter against him. “What do I know, I’m not a therapist. We can try it. But at some point, they’re gonna make us leave this booth.”

#David x Patrick #Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek fic #SC fic #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #SC fanfic #Schitt's Creek fanfic #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: depression

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rithmeres · 3 years

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long rant abt sh.ades of m.agic under the cut sorry

i’m 150 pages into the last book and honestly.............. this trilogy not that good lmao. maybe some my complaints will be resolved by the end of the series but seeing how things have gone so far i really doubt it. the premise and worldbuilding were so promising and i really like the whole concept of the four londons, i like kell’s character design and coat, and i like the way blood is used for magic but that’s where the good stuff ends. it’s a shame that the plot and cast can’t hold up to the core concept. lila is SO annoying and the way that the only major female character in these books has a hUGE ‘im not like other girls’ complex and actively derides other women and anything feminine and it’s presented as girl power is so bad and cringe. she walks around doing whatever illegal or self-entitled things she wants with no regard for the consequences and she never faces any consequences, from the law or from the narrative or from the people who care about her. her relationship with kell is weird too like they met and barely interacted before she kissed him and they suddenly start acting like their whole world revolves around the other. she’s sooooooooo mary-sue gifted like kell has trained his whole life to do magic so of course he’s amazing but lila has two (2) lessons with some annoying pirate and suddenly she can go toe to toe with kell and do insanely difficult magic without even knowing what she’s doing. it’s bad writing brent.

i do like kell though, even if he is a little boring, and i like the tight bond he has with his brother. i think kell is the only person with any common sense in this book and he’s a breath of fresh air. but DO NOT GET ME STARTED on the blatant favoritism the king and queen show for their biological son. the way they treat kell as inferior leaves such a bad taste in my mouth like it’s bad enough that you would have a blatant favorite but on top of it kell saved rhy’s life three different times and they can’t even say thank you or acknowledge his sacrifice?? they’re so cold to him and for what. kell basically died to save his brother and the parents respond by essentially grounding their adult son and it’s gross. and then rhy is every pretty flirty privileged boy stereotype rolled into one and he grates on my nerves and what’s really bad is that he has the EXACT same personality as his love interest which makes reading these books SUPER WEIRD because the two of them look physically similar and have become literally interchangeable in my mind. adding alucard (i hate that name so much omfg) to the cast was just adding a second rhy to the mix and he seems to have very little bearing on the plot. would it kill authors to not make every bisexual character a flirts-with-anything-that-moves stereotype. you should be ashamed of yourself.

also literally nothing of importance happened in the second book until the very end and there was actually no point to that entire tournament and most of the stuff could have been cut. holland is the only mf in this city i respect and the only one with nuance and a compelling character. i feel so bad for him bc he just cannot catch a break and everyone hates him so much even though he was being controlled against his will, and the other characters know this but they still abuse him. and there r a bunch of unexplained issues with the magic system (like how did athos dane summon a big snake???) and the power scaling (or maybe it’s just all thrown off because of lila’s supernatural gifting).

it feels to me like schwab was just like ‘uhhhhhhh what do people like these days ... people like boys with mysterious backstories so i’m uhhhhhhhh literally never gonna explain how my main character got his powers or where he came from. people like uhhhhhhhhhh strong female characters so my one and only female character of importance is gonna hate everything about being a woman. people like diversity so im gonna give them uhhhhhhhhh two horny bisexual poc men who are nigh indistinguishable from each other’ and hoped the story would write itself

#for a moment i thought maybe im just getting old and jaded and ive outgrown ya but then i remembered THIS IS ADULT FICTION #this is shelved alongside gaiman and pratchett and sanderson and le guin so like. step it up miss schwab #i really liked vicious #like A LOT #vengeful didnt do it for me tho #so i had hoped that i would like schwab's more recent stuff even if i didnt like vengeful #but nah #i should go read some stiefvater next because her prose and characters are incredible incredible INCREDIBLE #some of schwab's stuff reads kinda fic-ish #and not the tightly wrought fics that blow your socks off #it's like...... common phrases and conventions that i p much only see in amateur online spaces when describing characters or writing romance #i don't really know how to explain it i need to just go to bed

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Eighteen

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

June 5th, 1985

“Now come on, Emile, the polite thing to do is to apologize,” his mom coaxed.

Emile stared up at her with a stubborn frown. “He shoved me first!” he said, accusing the boy standing in front of him, his own mother behind him.

“But shoving back is not the answer,” his mother reminded. “Apologize, please.”

Emile sighed but turned to the boy. “Sorry,” he sullenly muttered.

The boy didn’t say anything until his mother nudged him and he said the same. They both walked back to the playground they had been on and looked at each other. “Can we agree that apologizing is dumb and just play tag or something?” the boy asked.

Emile nodded. “Works for me. Saying sorry is only for when you really mean it, anyway.”

January 7th, 2001

Emile couldn’t deny that things were awkward after Remy’s latest therapy session. He wasn’t proud of it, but he had been trying to avoid Remy the past couple of days so that they didn’t wind up in an argument, or worse, a screaming match.

Of course, things couldn’t stay like this forever, with Emile avoiding Remy and Remy just in general being very quiet and walking on eggshells. It was like he was expecting to be hurt, and it made Emile’s blood boil. So on a day where both of them were exhausted from long shifts, and Emile was stressing over his homework, and Remy was worrying about how much food they had in the refrigerator, Emile slammed a door, Remy jumped a foot and immediately snapped back a, “Hey!” and the dialogue began. “You can’t just slam anything you want when you’re angry, Emile! You know I don’t like loud noises!”

“Yeah, and you’ve never told me why, which leads me to a few unsavory ideas, which is what’s making me angry in the first place!” Emile snapped.

Remy growled. “We’re low on food and we barely have enough money for rent, and you’re angry about something that happened years ago?!”

Emile stilled. “So it did happen?”

“Yeah! My mother had a bad habit of getting angry and slamming doors and yelling! Sometimes at other people, mostly just in general! She’d mock whatever anyone said that set her off, and she’d stomp around like she was out for blood!” Remy’s breath heaved in his chest. “She demanded respect, and perfection, and when she didn’t get it, she’d get angry! That’s normal!”

“That’s not normal, that’s horrifying!” Emile exclaimed. “You’re acting like a living breathing doormat when it comes to your parents! You deserve respect!”

“No I don’t!” Remy said, tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t even hold his scowl in place. “What kind of brat who can’t even be thankful for what his parents did to him deserves respect?!”

It was then that Emile realized he had miscalculated. Remy would talk big and pretend that nothing bothered him, but underneath that, he was still a person who can and did get hurt. And this was clearly a touchy subject. “Everyone deserves respect, Rem. Everyone deserves to be loved unconditionally. And not just from one or two people, either. Everyone deserves respect from everyone else. While they may not be loved by everyone, most people are loved by several other people, in one way or another.” His voice was measured, trying to avoid shouting, and he just hoped that Remy wouldn’t interpret that as anger at him. Emile tilted his head to the side. “Mind explaining why you don’t agree?”

“I...I don’t...” Remy stammered. “I...my parents...my parents don’t have to respect me. I have to respect them. That’s how that works. Respect doesn’t have to be a two-way street.”

“Yes it does,” Emile said firmly. “Remy, everyone, no matter how big or small, gay or straight, young or old deserves respect. Because they’re people. Living, breathing people with all their own experiences, their own emotions, their own opinions. They’re sentient beings. They deserve respect.”

“But...but then...then...why couldn’t...why couldn’t my parents...respect me? If you’re right, then that means my parents...my parents were wrong,” he whispered the last word, glancing around fearfully, and it broke Emile’s heart, dimming the fire that had been burning there not even minutes before. He needed to take the gentle approach, while still being straightforward.

“Yes, it does. Because they were,” Emile said firmly. “Listen, Rem. I’m sorry, but your parents weren’t good people. They treated you badly. They hurt you. If they don’t treat you with respect, then they aren’t respectable in my eyes. Full stop. Everyone deserves respect. Everyone deserves to be loved, and be taught to love, not to fear. Because that’s what they did to you, Rem. They taught you fear instead of love, and you’re paying the price for it.”

Remy’s eyes filled with more tears, as he said in a lost, broken voice, “They said they loved me...”

“Maybe they do. But they certainly don’t show it in acceptable ways,” Emile said, taking the few steps needed to cross the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Remy.

Remy hugged Emile back, sobbing into his shoulder, and Emile just hoped that whenever Remy calmed down, he would take what Emile said to heart, so they wouldn’t have to repeat this conversation over again. He hated when they went through the low in the cycle, where Remy was convinced his parents weren’t that bad, that he was overreacting and being a brat, that this, that, and the other thing were what Emile was wrong about when really, those were all signs that a family genuinely cared for you.

He wanted to destroy Remy’s parents, and maybe his grandparents as well, because clearly, they had to get it from somewhere. His siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins got a pass...for now, at least. Emile wouldn’t destroy Toby, ever, because Remy cared about him too much, and he didn’t know how the rest of his family reacted to Remy’s parents’ outrageous demands. But his parents could rot. And Emile knew that wasn’t productive, and Remy probably wouldn’t want to hear it at this point, so he kept that sentiment to himself.

After some time of them just hugging, Remy broke the hug apart, sniffling and looking away, crossing his arms. “Emile...I think my parents neglected me. Like, the actual legal definition.”

Emile felt the need to fight dim down into nothing, leaving only charred remains of the fire behind. “I know,” Emile said softly.

“You don’t,” Remy said, sniffling. “You have parents who genuinely love you and would never do anything to hurt you, even accidentally. You don’t know the half of what I’ve been through these nineteen miserable years.”

Emile winced. “No, I don’t. I said I know in reference to the fact that what they did was neglect. And emotional abuse.”

Remy sighed. He uncrossed his arms, letting them lay limp as his sides. “I’m tired, Emile. I’m so tired.”

“It’s okay to be tired,” Emile said, “So long as you don’t give up the fight entirely. Take a step back, regroup, and tackle this problem a different way.”

Remy laughed, voice still thick with tears. “Every day, you sound more and more like a shrink.”

Emile laughed with him. It felt like the sun was finally beginning to peek through the clouds. “Yeah, well. I suppose that’s a good thing, considering that I want to be a therapist, right?”

Remy rolled his eyes. “You may see it as a good thing, but I’m not so sure.”

“That’s okay,” Emile said, patting Remy’s arm. “So long as I know it’s a good thing, then you can think what you want. It’s my life, so my opinion is the one that matters most.”

Remy blinked. “See, I understand that in concept, but in practice...that’s never been the case. How does that work?”

Emile shrugged. “I’m not sure, it just...does? Like, I want to do something so I weigh the pros and cons, and if I think it’s a good idea, then I do it.”

“And you just...do it?” Remy asked. “There’s no...”

“No what?”

“No one saying it’s a bad idea, or forbidding you from doing it, or whatever?” Remy asked, waving his hands around.

“No. I mean, yeah, sometimes my friends call me a ‘grade-A dumbass’ but like...that’s just friends joking around together. It’s all in good fun, we’ve established it’s not said as an insult, and if I still want to do the thing, they won’t stop me,” Emile explained.

Remy frowned and shook his head. “That sounds...weird. Unnatural.”

“It’s called independence,” Emile said. “And not everyone gets the same amount of it. You’ve never had any and now, all of a sudden, you have all of it. No one can tell you what to do. If you wanted to you could up and quit your job. You could travel the country with nothing to your name but the van you’re using and an old worn-out guitar. And that’s probably...really overwhelming.”

“Yeah,” Remy admitted, running a hand down his face. “I never know if what I’m doing is the ‘right’ thing. Not in the sense of morals, but more in the sense of if I’m going in the direction I’m supposed to be going.”

Emile winced. That sounded particularly difficult, and he knew that a lot of adults struggled with that. “You don’t have to know that, not right away,” Emile said. “You might never know, and that’s okay. So long as you’re happy where you’re at, you have to be doing something right.”

Remy let out a breath and nodded. “I’m...I’m sorry for yelling earlier.”

“So am I,” Emile said. “And I’m sorry for slamming the door.”

Remy waved him off. “All things considered, it’s not the worst thing you could have done. And it got us talking again.”

“Still, I caused a flare-up in your trauma. That’s...really not cool,” Emile said.

Remy shrugged. “I won’t hold it against you,” he said.

“You’re being too kind,” Emile said.

“Nah,” Remy said. “If anyone else were to do that, I wouldn’t have forgiven them so easily. But this is you we’re talking about. You never hurt me on purpose, rarely do it on accident, and always apologize if you do.”

Emile blinked. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Obviously, he didn’t want to hurt Remy, because he didn’t want to hurt anyone. But at the same time, Remy saw that as a big deal. And now Emile knew why, and it made his heart break more. “Of course,” Emile said. “That’s the right thing to do.”

Remy’s smile was a bit bitter. “You see, you say that, but not everyone agrees. That’s why you’re so important, Emile. Because you see those things that might hurt me as things that might hurt me. And rather than taking your chances, you avoid them. You’re...you’re important. To me.”

Wow. “You’re...putting a lot of faith in me,” Emile said.

Remy shrugged. “I like to think that you would have the same faith in me. If not now, then one day. When I know what I’m doing when it comes to making friends, and being a normal human being.”

“Rem, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years,” Emile said, giving his friend a small grin. “It’s that there’s no such thing as a ‘normal human being.’ No need to strive for something that doesn’t exist.”

“What should I strive for instead, then?” Remy asked.

Emile shrugged, looking around. “Why not being happy where you are? Being happy with who you are? Just...loving the moment. That’s always been my goal in the past, and I think it worked out well for me.”

“You think so?” Remy asked.

“Yeah, I do. I mean, I’m happy to be here with you, and studying all the while to follow my dreams. It’s nice,” Emile said. “And while it’s not the perfect situation, and we definitely need to figure out where to cut back in expenses so we can afford more food, and maybe a chair or two, it’s nice. I’m not sure if there is such a thing as a ‘perfect situation’ in all honesty. So I just relax, remind myself of why I’m happy, and just like that, my mood improves, and I’m content.”

“Wow. You...clearly do not have that many mental health issues,” Remy laughed.

Emile shook his head. “You worry me, Rem. I’ve had my bad days, but it’s true that I haven’t struggled with depression, or PTSD, or anxiety to the degree you have. It’s still a therapeutic technique that helps, though. I’d recommend trying it.”

“Right, because that will solve all my problems,” Remy sighed.

“It’s not meant to solve all your problems.”

“I know it’s not, I’m just not looking forward to trying it,” Remy said. “But for you, I’ll give it a shot.”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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itsomgitsgreenblogging · 4 years

Text

Tangled (In Complexity)

So I've been very interested in a lot of the psychological features of Essek's character, and one of them is his canonical low-empathy. Essek seems to have a really hard time with empathy as a rule, which makes social interactions extremely fraught for him. I am also a Verin Theylss stan, so of course, I had to write a whole fic exploring these issues. No, I do not believe having low-empathy makes a person evil by any means, but as this story is from Verin's flawed perspective we only get his insights into Essek's behaviors so just keep that in mind when reading.

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

Triggers: emotionally abusive/distant parenting, estrangement, grief, and mentions of canonical minor character death (Essek and Verin’s father)

Preview:

"Don't leave me," Verin begged, fingers pressed to the wood of the door, and yanking the knob to no avail. "Please, it'll get me, Mama!"

"Verin, you will stay in your room until you overcome this idiotic fear," his mother shouted, and Verin flinched back from the door. "We are drow , what kind of drow is afraid of the dark?"

"Mama, Mama no!" Verin sobbed curling tight into himself. He could hear her footsteps as they echoes down the hallway and disappeared. He screwed his eyes shut. The room seemed to shrink in his panic. The shadows at his closet seemed to grow. The panic that had been gnawing at Verin's gut since his history lesson that day seemed to grow stronger. There was only his desperate heartbeat in his ears, the scent of snuffed candles, and thick shadows. In the dark there were the monsters that he had been told about. He didn't understand why his mother couldn't understand. If he was alone in the dark, then the driders and beholders and the other creeping crawling monster would be able to find him and hurt him!

There was no choice then. If his mother wouldn't help him than Verin knew that he would have to save himself.

Verin looked about, seeing his window and realizing it was his golden opportunity. He jumped up on his chair, onto his desk, and then attempted to open the window. It didn't budge. Seeing the lock at the top, Verin climbed down to his bookshelf and began bringing books over to his desk. Using them to boost himself up and using all his strength, he heard the lock creak and pop, the window opening out to the courtyard. He nearly fell out right there but managed to catch his balance with a startled yelp.

Verin ducked, his heart in his throat. He had been so desperate to escape that he hadn’t thought of any of the consequences. Mother would come, she would know and the punishment would be worse. But would that punishment be worse than the creatures that were surely waiting for him to trance? It was a risk he was willing to take. A minute passed, and then two. No one crossed the courtyard. In fact, no one appeared at all. However, from one of the rooms he saw the light of a candle. Verin, gathering all of his courage, lowered himself out of the window and then sprinted across the yard as quickly as his legs would take him. He grabbed a stick, and began to rap at the window. Mid-hit, the window opened and Verin heard Essek swear as he swatted the branch away.

"Stop!" Essek snapped and Verin dropped the stick. Essek was sticking his head out of the window now, glaring down at Verin with a heat that made Verin shrink with a leaf now stuck in his hair. "What are you doing ?"

"Mother locked me in my room," Verin said, gripping the edge of the window and desperately scrabbling for a foothold so he could boost himself up. "And she took all the lights away! Essek, please, the driders are going to get me!"

"You are being ridiculous! Hey! Stop, you are going to hurt yourself!" Essek said, and to Verin's relief Essek grabbed his shirt and pulled him up through the window. Verin was sprawled on Essek's desk, looking at Essek's glower from an interesting angle. A book had fallen, and he had scattered papers all over the place. Despair came thick and shameful. Now Essek definitely wouldn’t help him, he would carve him up and serve him to their mama on a golden platter.

"Don't make me go back, Essek, she'll lock me away again," Verin sniffed, eyes burning. Essek's face twisted for a moment, he looked out the window and closed it, moved to the door and stuck his head out and closed it in turn. He planted his hands on his hips, and then groaned after finding whatever answer he was looking for on the ceiling.

"Oh fine, very well," Essek sighed, helping Verin off the desk and straightening out his things. "I'll put you to work then."

Verin nodded eagerly, his heart full of a crippling relief. Being put to work was far better than dealing with the dark, cold, lonely bedroom before. Essek had never assigned Verin chores or punishment before, but whatever he wanted couldn't have been as bad as the quiet room. Essek was distant and quiet and mean on occasions that suited him, but at least he always kept his promises.

"Hold this for me," Essek said, taking the blanket spread out over his legs and draping it over Verin's shoulders. "I'm getting too hot."

Verin nodded and curled it around his shoulders.

"Now I'm going to read, you stay quiet," Essek told him, standing up and pulling a book from the shelf. It was cracked along the backbone, well-used and annotated with his brother's scrawl. He settled it at the center of the desk, pushing away the massive tome he had been using after marking the page he had been on.

"I will!"

" Quiet , Verin."

"Oh! Right, sorry!" Verin whispered, curling the blanket more firmly around himself. He felt tiny in the huge chair, and didn't quite know what to do with his legs and arms. He settled for tucking them underneath himself and leaning against the arm. Essek began reading aloud.

"Dunamists have long held that gravity is the force by which a planet or other celestial body draws objects towards their center. The force of gravity keeps the celestial bodies in orbit around the sun," Essek read, voice quietly. "The manipulation of this force is called Dunamancy, and this concept of drawing towards the center is the most basic principle of the practice."

"Mm," Verin sighed, head heavy.

"The existence of gravity was first proven by which scholar, Verin?"

"Narcelia of Den Gallaer," Verin grumbled, remembering the list and his tutor who smelled like old parchment and smoke. He remembered because he had gotten his knuckles hit for doodling during that lesson, and his mother hadn’t been pleased.

"Correct, and she discovered gravity by completing a sequence of tests that started…"

Essek read, and occasionally asked Verin questions. He never once looked at Verin, and yet Verin could sense he had Essek's attention. And that was enough. After all, a drider couldn't get the jump on him if someone was paying attention. He tried to stay awake, to listen so that he could help Essek. He wasn't sure exactly what he had wanted help with, but he knew he could. He could be of use somehow. Essek would see that, and then Essek would see him . He couldn’t imagine something better than that, after all, everyone knew that Essek was a genius. If Essek saw him, maybe Verin could be special one day and not just a bother.

Just one moment, Verin thought to himself as his heavy eyes closed. I'll just rest for a moment. Essek won't be mad if it's just for a moment and it was so difficult to keep his eyes open and…

Verin drifted into a trance, and even deeper into sleep . When he awoke he was in his own bed, and the only proof it hadn't been a dream was the unlocked door and the closed window.

_____________________________

Verin was in the midst of a well needed rest when he was startled out of his trance by a Message. This was his least favorite way to wake up for multiple reasons, but it was especially unwelcome as his foggy brain began to put together the pieces of the words as they filtered in.

“Taskhand, your presence is being requested by your Denmother and the Shadowhand. You will be expected at the residence tomorrow evening.”

“Very well, I’ll leave Bazzoxan tomorrow,” Verin said, before waiting for the spell to fizzle out. He sighed and collapsed back down in his bed, once he was safe.

“ What ?” Samezi groaned from where she was laying on the bed next to him. Her head popped out from under the covers, and she blinked at him slowly.

“My presence has been requested at the Theylss Residence tomorrow evening,” Verin said, adopting an exaggerated Rosohna accent.

“You aren’t going are you?” Samezi asked, concerned, sitting up straight. Verin wished they could just go back to sleeping, with his arms around her and soaking in her warmth and her scent and burying his face in her braids. When Verin didn’t answer she swore under her breath in orcish. “You can’t be serious Verin.”

“I can’t refuse a summons from my Denmother,” Verin explained, pulling himself up and resting against the rickety backboard of his bed. He had gutted most of the belongings of the previous Taskhand, the velvet curtains and the feather down, when he got there and salvaged them for extra coin. One of his first orders of business was putting every spare coin back into the barracks where it belonged. He had no access to the vast fortune his family commanded, after all, he was the youngest son.

“You mean your mother,” Samezi said, not sounding impressed. “That woman .”

“Yes, my mother, the Denmother, Deirta there is no difference,” Verin said noncommittal though just mentioning her made something curdle in his gut. “I have to go, no matter how much I wish not to. The Shadowhand will be there, which means it’s something important.”

“Please, consider just...just refusing,” Samezi said, the worry settling like a weight between her brows. “You know how you get after seeing them.”

“You mean, feeling like I’m making nothing of my life? Please, elaborate.”

“Really Verin,” Samezi said quietly, touching his arm with a softness that gentled the sharp edges of his heart. “They are incapable of seeing what we all see. You are the only Taskhand we’ve liked probably in the history of the outpost. There’ll be chaos if that woman skins you and eats your organs or whatever she’s planning.”

“You don’t think she just wants to see me perhaps? I’ve heard I’m decent company,” Verin said, fluttering his eyelashes. He leaned to give Samezi a kiss and she batted him away half-heartedly.

“I’m being serious,” Samezi warned him, her fingers combing through Verin’s hair.

“At ease, sergeant,” Verin said with a salute before sighing and leaning back against the pillows. “I know, you’re right. But I’m sure it’s just something about politics now that the war is over. I’ll go there, have dinner, and come back. If something else happens, I give you permission to send a search party. Make to avenge me, also, burn all those letters I sent you. They are in a lockbox in my desk.”

“You are horrible ,” Samezi said. “But fine, but only if they kill you before I do.”

“Good, give me something to look forward to when I get home,” Verin said with a smile of his own.

He arrived the next evening back to his hometown through the use of their teleportation circle. Rosohna was dark and beautiful as always, after arriving he spent a little bit of time stretching his legs and getting a feel for the city that he had grown up in once more. The mood was much improved since his last visit, owed in part to the return of the beacons and to the end of the war. In general though, it felt like the city was teetering on another edge. Though it had little to do with him, he was sure that the direction Rosohna would blow would be decided soon enough.

Verin arrived in the Lucid Bastion on time, moving to the Den Theylss ancestral home. Servants acknowledged his presence and he was directed to one of the sitting rooms to await the presence of the Umavi. Verin was let in, and as he crossed the threshold he was immediately aware of another presence. Turning around, he saw Essek perched in a seat with a tome across his lap. He finished his page, not looking up, and once he did he put in a bookmark. Essek curled his fingers in the air and then slipped his book into a pocket dimension, before meeting his gaze. As always, his elder brother was dressed in a mantle and long robes that obscured his figure and he floated off the ground as he was buoyed in his own gravitational field.

"Hello Verin," Essek said pleasantly, head nodding towards him in acknowledgement.

"Essek," Verin said cordially in return, echoing his nod. "How have you been?"

"Busy," Essek answered, his tone non-committal. His attention slid to Verin now for the first time, though Verin wasn't looking at his brother but was instead looking ahead. The weight of his gaze skittered up Verin's neck like a spider and made him want to swat at his own skin. Essek had always had such an effect on everyone they knew. Unnerving , would be the term though it has its limits. Verin had known Essek all of his life...until recently there had been no life without Essek being factored in like some kind of twisted arithmetic, but Verin had no clue what was simmering under the surface of Essek's facade.

"The Denmother's last appointment is running late, it will be a few moments longer," a servant said, bowing deep in apology. Essek waved off the servant who scurried away. Verin sighed through his nose. Of course, his mother would summon him all the way from Bazzoxan and then still find a reason to not speak with him. Typical .

"I hear you have been busy as well," Essek said, and Verin startled at his voice. He had assumed their non-conversation was over and that they would start pretending the other didn't exist again. Apparently Essek wanted something.

"Bazzoxan keeps me on my toes," Verin said suspiciously, feeling his own eyes narrow. "Why?"

"It hasn't escaped my attention that you are doing well there," Essek said, and Verin met his silver gaze. He couldn't say that Essek looked proud, or warm. But instead, the placid mask of his brother was gone and his expression was neutral. "I will admit that the assignment concerned me, but I was glad to be proven wrong."

"You thought I couldn't handle it?" Verin asked, a twinge of indignation pricking him.

"In over your head," Essek clarified, arms shifting beneath the mantle. "But I have heard nothing but good things about your leadership. I'm sure the Umavi is pleased."

"And what do you think?" Verin asked him.

"A Theylss, executing their job proficiently in high places is to be expected," Essek said, looking forward. "You are a Theylss, after all."

"Until you can actually speak about that like I am a Theylss and don't just have to prove myself one, it doesn't feel like you actually think of me as your brother," Verin pointed out.

"You are the only one of our siblings I view as a sibling," Essek said with a blink, looking at Verin more critically. "I thought you knew that."

"I'm pretty sure what you think constitutes loving sibling behavior and what I think constitutes loving sibling behavior are two very different things," Verin said, illustrating the point by holding up two fingers and pulling them apart.

"I don't deny that," Essek said with a shrug. “I am sorry if I made you feel otherwise though.”

Verin was now staring at Essek unabashedly. He wasn’t even sure that he had known that apologies were even part of Essek’s vocabulary (outside of the political niceties that Essek had always been well versed in). Their childhood was scattered with examples Verin could point too-bothered Essek, annoyed Essek, cold Essek. Cold Essek had always been Verin’s least favorite, the one that treated Verin like his existence was a chore he just had to get through. During their sibling arguments, Essek would just simply pretend Verin didn’t exist...the record being for a week straight. Never once had Essek ever apologized for instigating or his part in their disagreements. On occasion, Essek could be considerate, but never kind. There was always a point . Whether it was to curry his favor or to repay a favor, it could be assumed that Essek wanted something. Essek was never apologetic . Verin had half a mind to slap himself, just to make sure he was well.

“Close your mouth or you’ll swallow a spider,” Essek said with a roll of his eyes, and Verin’s mouth closed with a click of his teeth.

“Who are you and what have you done with Essek?” Verin asked suspiciously.

“Stop acting like a child,” Essek told him with a very distinctly Essek huff that relieved Verin slightly. At least he knew that this was indeed his brother and not just a person masquerading around in his flesh suit. Verin was about to say something in that spirit when the servant walked back into the sitting room.

“The Denmother is requesting your presence now,” the servant said with a bow of his head. Essek ghosted in behind him, and Verin followed close behind.

Their mother was sitting at the table, flipping through some papers as she took sips from a glass of wine. As they walked in their mother’s eyes didn’t even flit up from the papers for a moment, she simply waved them in like she was summoning them forward. Verin felt like a child being called in for a scolding again as he moved forward. Essek’s face was a picture of cool indifference. Finally she stopped, clearly having decided that she had made them wait long enough. She set down the papers, and another servant scrambled to take them away.

“Denmother,” Essek greeted, bowing his head in respect, and Verin echoed the movement immediately.

“Essek,” Deirta said, standing up. She seemingly inspected Essek thoroughly. Though they were the same height, Essek was currently floating about an inch or two higher. It was at such moments that Verin was always surprised about how much Essek took after their mother. From the shape of their eyes, to the bridge of their noses, to the sharp lines of their delicate faces. Verin had always been closer in face and continence to their father. He wondered, often, what their mother thought of that. She seemed pleased with whatever she saw there and turned her attention to him. “Verin.”

“Denmother,” Verin said as his mother curled her cold fingers under his chin, and turned his head this way and that. Verin let her manipulate his movements, and was relieved when she let go.

“Would it kill you to keep your hair in order?” Deirta sighed, the breath coming exasperated. “It looks like you took a knife to the edges.”

“I did,” Verin said flatly. Essek made a noise like he was stifling a chuckle, casting a glance towards him Verin could see there was a muscle twitching in his jaw...like he was fighting a grin.

“ Scissors , Verin, are there no scissors in Bazzoxan?” Deirta chastised before casting a scolding glance at Essek. “You don’t have a leg to stand on, considering your ridiculous haircut.”

“Forgive me, mother,” Essek said with a sweet, almost indulgent smile. “But the teachings of the Luxon do say that our bodies are merely transient vessels. Hair is of middling importance in the grand scheme of enlightenment.”

“Oh Luxon’s light protect me,” Deirta said, throwing up her hands. “Verin, promise me you’ll schedule an appointment to get the ends of your hair sorted out before you leave Rosohna.”

“Of course,” Verin said, hoping this would be enough to placate her.

“And don’t you give me attitude, young man,” Deirta said, focusing her energy now on Essek with narrowed eyes. “Out of everyone in this household, I am not the one who needs a lecture on the Luxon’s philosophy.”

Verin felt himself tense up, as a pit opened large and wide in his stomach. Oh dear Light, he had thought this argument was over . Was Essek still pursuing his ridiculously dangerous ideas? It was a poorly kept secret that Essek had funny ideas when it came to the Luxon. Treasonous ideas, if Verin was being honest. Essek could never leave well enough alone, and had historically never sucked up his pride enough to let things lay where they were. There had been plenty of nights where Verin had hidden in his room with his head under a pillow and trying not to listen to their parents argue with Essek for hours, going around and around like they were lost in a maze. How many times had Verin prayed for Essek just to drop it? He couldn’t even count.

“Yes, mother,” Essek said simply. Verin stared at him. He didn’t look particularly bothered by their mother’s annoyance. Essek had always had nerves of steel...or maybe deadened nerves would be more accurate. Verin wasn’t quite sure his brother was capable of the emotions that would be expected from a person.

“Umavi,” a servant said quietly. “The cook would like you to know that dinner is ready whenever you would like it.”

“Very well,” Deirta said, taking her seat back at the head of the table. Essek and Verin both sat at the table, Essek on the left side and Verin on the right. Verin focused solely on keeping his head down and shoveling food into his mouth. He knew rationally that this was all better than anything he would get from the barrack kitchens, but eating dinner late at night with the head cook Old Man Vuto as company was a far superior experience. He hadn’t realized how much so until just that moment. Essek and his mother spoke about the comings and goings of Rosohna, about people that Verin knew tangentially, and business that didn’t interest Verin at all. Essek grazed, picking at his plate but mostly just moving things around.

“-now that the war is over, I am hoping that perhaps Den Wenirila will realize that their insistence on the Northern Assault strategy has done them no favors in court and the Denmother will stop shouting every time she comes into the war room,” Essek sighed.

“Yes...now that the war is over in name, there are plenty of things that need to change,” Deirta said with a sip of her glass. “Now, we must think of the future.”

“Indeed,” Essek said, and Verin placed down his chopsticks. “Is this why you have called us?”

“Yes, to think of the future for Den Theylss and for the Kryn Dynasty as a whole,” Deirta said as she settled down her glass. She waved for the servants who took the plates away and then left them alone. “The Empire has returned the beacon they stole from us, and the lines of our territory remain the same. But if anything this conflict has raised our stature in the world. The Dwendalian Empire cannot pretend that the Dynasty are savage drow and monsters who live in some cursed hovel. They were forced to recognize us. This will send a message to those countries outside of the borders of Wildemount that we are a sovereign state with military power that cannot be discounted when it comes to global politics. According to some we have lost the battle, but I believe that we have won the war. You two are not the first I have called here to discuss this with me, but as Denmother I believe it is my duty to share with all of the den my vision.”

“ Global politics?” Verin asked.

“Who did the Tal’doreians beg for aid when the dragons nearly roasted their civilization into a well-done husk? It certainly wasn’t us. They begged the Dwendalians. And do you know why?” Deirta asked Verin. “Pretend that you paid attention during your history lessons, Verin. I paid good money for them.”

“Ever since the drow left the Underdark there has been limited contact between the drow and the denizens of Tal’dorei,” Verin said quietly, repeating a lesson he had been taught long ago, trying not to feel as scolded as he did. “The only drow who remain have long since been twisted by Lolth and the dark entities who whisper in their hearts. Neighbors slaughter neighbors in the streets of their subterranean cities and the Denmothers and Denfathers rule with an authoritarian grip. Those who attempt to escape are often killed by once they reach the surface or are forced to live in secret enclaves as refuges without homes."

“That’s right. We used to not exist in their world outside of the horror stories they told their children to keep them from the dark at night, now we do,” Deirta told him, chin raised. “We have a golden opportunity to influence the world in a way we haven’t before.”

“And what would Den Theylss’ role in that influence be?” Essek asked as he threaded his fingers together.

“The Kryn are the rulers, the Mirimm are the enforcers. Theylss has always been the diplomats . You both know as well as I do that Den Theylss has always filled in the gap with everything the Empress needs. We will even do what the Empress doesn’t know she needs, for her own good of course,” Deirta said. “Den Theylss can be that for many others as well, beyond the Ashkeeper Peaks. Perhaps in an official capacity.”

“How?” Verin asked, frowning. “What does the Dynasty have that would make it worthwhile for any other country to risk the ire of the Empire?”

“We have the greatest resource. Time itself,” Deirta said. “I see no reason why our magics cannot benefit the world. Our cousins live in squalor and terror, it is our duty to return to liberate those remaining and make the peoples of Tal'dorei see drow in a new light."

“You want to convert the other nations,” Essek said, his voice flat. Verin was staring at Deirta unabashedly.

“Of course they should all see the light of the Luxon,” Deirta explained. “It is doubtful they will reach true enlightenment, but why shouldn’t we aim to bring more souls under the protection of our lord? But just the promise of immortality is the most powerful promise there is, and Den Theylss can be the ambassadors for such a promise. Diplomacy is what we need in a post-war world in order to become a world power, not warmongering. If the Empress cannot see that, then we can make Quana see it. She has been the more reasonable one as of late.”

“What are you implying?” Essek asked, for the first time there was an edge in his voice, an eyebrow raised.

“You have only ever been in the war room, Essek. Not in war. Verin has more experience than you in that regard, but still you are both young and inexperienced and still haven’t died a death for your country,” Deirta sighed. “War is a horrible thing. Bloodshed is a horrible thing, and it tends to be unnecessary and gruesome. It tends to bring up all sorts of feelings and instincts.”

“Are you implying that the Empress isn’t well?” Essek pressed.

“If Leylas Kryn doesn’t see things our way, it is our duty to persuade her of the correct course of action no matter the cost,” Deirta said with a smile. “Our country’s motto is for our den, our country, our Empress, and our Light. There is a reason that den is first.”

What does the Luxon see in you? Verin wanted to demand. Deirta wasn’t righteous, she wasn’t good, she was a monster trying to use the Luxon’s light for her own gain. Of course it should be a good thing for the den to work for peace and prosperity for all drow, but somehow she had even managed to taint that goal with her poison. He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand it. No matter what he did, how good he could be, somehow they were all just cogs in the machinations of her mind. She just had to have some kind of wisdom that Verin didn’t, some way of understanding that made it all make sense. And yet, Verin still felt sick to his stomach. What they were speaking on was nearly treason.

“I will do my duty to my countrymen,” Verin said as he stood up, gathering all of his courage in his spine. “I am the Taskhand of Bazzoxan. I am a son of Theylss and of you but I consider my obligation to the residents of that city to be my concern first and foremost. Denmother, I will respect your decisions, but I ask that you allow me to continue to prove myself in my own way by following my own path.”

“I see,” Deirta said with a disappointed sigh. “I’m sure I could work out a more profitable assignment here in Rosohna or even in Tal’dorei if the opportunity presents itself.”

“I shall endeavor to work to prove myself by my own merit, though the offer humbles me,” Verin said, bowing deeply.

“And you, Essek, what do you think?” Deirta asked, her gaze sliding over to Essek.

“Frankly, I don’t particularly care about politics,” Essek said bluntly. “Nor do I care about the conditions of the drow of Tal’dorei. Generations ago they made their bed, and should choose to lie in it. Of course you are right that honor to our den is first and foremost our concern, and should you choose to make moves towards Tal’dorei and beyond I will support you. But I also will advise that this gamble is high risk.”

“And should it fail, you will abandon the den to it’s fate?” Deirta asked.

“I am the Shadowhand, if it looks like your gamble shall fail I will stop it before it gets to that point,” Essek said.

“Is that a threat, Essek?” Deirta asked him, eyes cold.

“Yes,” Essek said with a smile. “The den is first, as you said. I would think you expect nothing less of me.”

“Essek!” Verin hissed, utterly horrified.

“There aren’t many who would have the audacity to scheme their way into being Denfather upon their first life, especially in a house of an Umavi,” Deirta scoffed.

“I have no interest in being Denfather,” Essek said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But should the occasion arise I will find a suitable candidate to replace you.”

“Only one of us here is truly replaceable, think long and hard about your recent decisions before you come to the conclusion about who that is,” Deirta warned him, eyes flashing dangerously. Essek’s shoulders squared and his jaw tensed. “Especially considering the company you have been keeping nowadays.”

Verin wanted to laugh at that idea. Essek? Keeping company? It was ridiculous. But based off of Essek’s frigid demeanor it apparently wasn’t a joke considering that if he had looked frigid before he was now clocking in at below freezing.

“I think this conversation is over,” Essek said as he stood up abruptly, there was something dangerous in his gaze. It was something sharp enough that it could make a person bleed.

“Clearly,” Deirta said shortly.

“Verin,” Essek addressed him clearly for the second time that night. “Would you like to stay here, or would you rather stay in my home? I have a guest room prepared.”

Who are you? Verin wanted to ask.

“I’ll take you up on that then,” was what Verin said instead.

________________________________

Verin had never been to Essek’s home. He had received it after Verin’s assignment in Bazzoxan, and there was certainly no reason to come visit his brother. But Essek’s tower reminded Verin much of a graveyard, cold and impersonal. He could imagine clearly his brother haunting the hallways in the middle of the night, a phantom to his own dreams, walking about in patterns as he tried to work through some esoteric problem that didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. There were strange things though; there were books slightly out of place, extra papers, knickknacks, and things that told a story that Verin couldn’t quite piece together. The company Essek had been keeping? Their mother’s jab still echoed freshly in his ears. Had Essek been seeing someone their mother hadn’t approved of? Verin just couldn’t see that being the case. As far as Verin knew, Essek had never had any romantic entanglements nor shown an interest in such things.

“You look like you’ve been stewing on something for a while now,” Essek said as he sat down, discarding his mantle thoughtlessly. He was smaller than Verin remembered, thinner too. He looked worn down by whatever was eating at him, until he was nothing but edges and spite. “Go ahead, before your brain explodes.”

“What was mother talking about?” Verin asked directly, seeing no purpose in dancing around the point. “What company?”

“It won’t come as a shock to you,” Essek said with a sigh as he put out glasses and set out the wine. “But I lost the friends I made.”

“Friends?” Verin asked, seizing on that impossible fact.

“I should be insulted by your surprise at that part of my statement, but I know, I was surprised too,” Essek said quietly, looking off to the side as he poured a more than generous quantity of wine for himself. “But it doesn’t matter any more.”

“What did you do to lose them?” Verin asked as he sat down. Essek took a breath, and then another. He was clearly gathering his thoughts as he did so, finally he gave up whatever mental game he was playing.

“I think there’s something wrong with me, Verin,” Essek admitted, meeting Verin’s gaze openly. “I used to think...I didn’t understand you at all growing up. I thought I was better, but...I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“Essek…” Verin said, feeling something in his gut shift at Essek’s expression that twisted like he was in pain.

“I made a mistake, I did something...well, I did something for my own gain and I don’t even feel bad about it though I should. I only felt bad that the people close to me...that it hurt them,” Essek said scrubbing at his face. “I can’t understand it. I am trying so hard, I put the pieces together rationally, but I just can't make myself feel as I should."

"How do you think you should feel?" Verin asked.

"Guilty? Awful? Sad ?" Essek offered. "I just feel nothing, and then get frustrated that I feel nothing!"

"I can't help but admit that I'm at a loss for why you want my advice," Verin said quietly.

"Verin…" Essek sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Stop acting slow. I don't have anyone else to ask for advice."

"You do realize how depressing that is, right?" Verin asked him. "Me? You want to ask me ? You don't even like me!"

"By the Light! You are so dense !" Essek snapped and discarded common and began hissing at him in their first language. "Fine, here's me being honest. Yes, Verin, you are my annoying little brother. I find your savior complex insulting to my intelligence, I never found your jokes about my height funny, and you snore so loud I considered smothering you with a pillow because Mother and Father forced us to sleep into the same room-!"

"When our cousin's room was being remodeled? If you are being serious about the constant threat to my life as a child I will actually kill you, what in the nine hells Essek-!"

"So yes, Verin. I don't like you. But you are my brother. You know me better than anyone else in the world, we have a shared history. And I also know you don't like me, so I can trust you to be honest. So please, Verin, help me ," Essek said, his voice desperate, and his chest heaving with his desperation. "You are normal and I'm not and I need to know what I'm doing wrong."

"I don't think you are doing anything wrong...actively," Verin tried to explain, holding out his arms in an attempt to placate him. "You have just...you know, always been like this?"

"Like what?"

".. evil?"

"Well great," Essek said sarcastically, throwing his hands up. "Thank you, that makes me feel so much better."

"What do you want me to say?" Verin asked defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. "You didn't even cry at our father's funeral!"

"There wasn't a body!"

"Why does that matter?" Verin demanded, slamming his hand on the table. "You wouldn't have cried anyways! That’s the problem!"

"I can't fake it," Essek said, sounding honestly distressed. "How would faking it make anything better? If I don't feel it I don't feel it! I can't make myself be different, gods know I want to be."

"What do you want to be, Essek, honestly?" Verin asked his brother.

"I want to be the kind of person who the people I care about don't hate," Essek said quietly. "I'm just not sure it's possible."

"Essek, be serious, do you think the people who you became friends with would like you if you weren't acting like yourself?" Verin asked him, eyebrows shooting up.

"I don't know, it seems like it."

“Essek, really?”

Essek grimaced and downed his entire glass in one fell swoop. For a moment he seemed to truly consider the question, before just shaking his head and giving Verin a rueful smile. It was, perhaps, the most genuine expression that Verin had seen from his brother in years. For a moment he had to remember to breathe, because there he was. This was the Essek that Verin remembered between the pages of old textbooks and ducking between the pillars of their home. That Essek hadn’t been perfect, nor kind, but at least Essek was his brother. That had meant something in Verin’s life, a life that was full of starts and stops and highs and crushing lows all dictated by a woman who Verin was sure had never even seen them as people with lives outside of her. Verin wondered if it made her proud, how thoroughly she had destroyed them.

"I wonder if I loved them, or the Essek I thought I could be with them," Essek said mournfully, looking at his hands arranged in his lap. "I wonder if I'm grieving them or that Essek. Grief...it’s new to me, as many things are these days."

“If they only liked who you were pretending to be, they never liked you at all,” Verin told him, settling his hand on Essek’s shoulder after a long pause. Essek tensed, but didn’t fight the touch. Verin was sure that he felt as Verin did, like he was crawling out of his own damn skin. But Verin pushed through it, because he could at least give this to Essek.

“That Essek would have probably been a better brother, the brother you deserved,” Essek said with a heavy sigh, pointedly not answering the other question. Verin was positive that Essek didn’t want to verbalize the answer.

“You aren’t technically the only brother I have...but you are my only brother ,” Verin said with a shrug as he removed his hand. “It’s not a question about what I deserve. Frankly, I could have been a better brother to you many times. I let you face the brunt of everything alone, and I’m sorry for that.”

“There were many times I loathed you for that,” Essek said, eyes closed and leaning back against the sofa. “But I also knew that I could handle it...handle her. You were a child...so, it wasn’t your fault. Out of the two of us, I knew I would survive.”

“You were a child too,” Verin said and Essek’s eyelid cracked open.

“I wasn’t a child as you were,” Essek said gently. “I wasn’t like you.”

“You are different from me, that doesn’t mean you weren’t a child,” Verin argued.

“Did I ever tell you that I was there when you were born?” Essek asked, startling Verin with the sudden change of topic. A smile pulled at his teeth. “I haven’t, have I? I remember it because Mother had just pulled me out of the school for my special tutoring. I was so special, I was twelve, and when I arrived home Mother was pregnant with you . She hadn’t even told me, I just showed up and she was ready to pop.”

“She didn’t tell you?” Verin asked, befuddled.

“Of course not,” Essek said with a wave. “She never wrote to me when I was away, and I never came back. All of twenty-four hours after coming home there she was screaming bloody murder in labor, and then she was screaming at me because I wasn’t paying attention to my studies. When I informed her that was going to be impossible with her screeching like a dying roc she threatened to pop my eyeballs out with her nails.”

Verin couldn’t help the laughter that escaped his throat, Essek just rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, to make a long story short, I was bitchy because I finally thought that Mother was paying attention to me and then Mother had to go and push you out not even one day later. Father handed you to me, and said, this is Verin. And I remember thinking you were the ugliest thing I ever saw-”

“Hey!”

“But you were there. And that was enough,” Essek said simply, coming to a neat and concise conclusion. “You have always been enough, Verin. I know that one day...well...this truce of ours may not last, but I wanted you to know that. I never wished that you were anyone else...even if you made me want to kill you and often I didn’t like you. But you were the only one I ever felt close to. You are my brother and maybe the only person in this world that I can consider my friend and though I’m not sure the feeling was mutual...I...”

“Thank you, Essek,” Verin said, his throat feeling oddly sore. “I felt the same.”

For a moment Verin could feel the weight of a hundred years between them. A hundred and ten years should have meant nothing to them, they were children of a soul unbound by time itself. And yet, all of those memories were tangible and meaningful. He and Essek had never known anything else and Verin wondered if that made them who they were. For the first time in Verin’s life, he believed that maybe Essek saw them that way too. Perhaps that was one thing they could agree upon, in a life that was so tangled up in complexity.

“Well, it’s getting late. I’ll teleport you to Bazzoxan tomorrow,” Essek said, getting up slowly, clearly not addressing Verin’s emotions or his sentiment. “The guest bedroom is the first room on the right at the top of the stairs.”

“Wait...Essek,” Verin said and Essek paused, turned, and looked at him. “I’m sorry about your friends. I hope that things work out.”

“Good night, Verin,” Essek said, before floating away.

Verin wondered if he was trying to escape him, or if Essek couldn’t dare to dream.

#critical role #critical role fanfiction #verin thelyss #essek theylss

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