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#which in turn absolves people of and turns people away from engaging with that which is painful and difficult in reality
bigmilkagenda · 2 months
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many people are posting about "You don't sound Russian" and "He can read?"
which is very fun, but I think it also reveals an important part of both Jon and Gwen's characters:
they each would have voted walrus.
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hoeswater · 2 months
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I'm Talking about MagPod and Archives Again
I know that those of us in the middle of the Venn diagram of “Magnus fans” and “People who actually know how archives work” have really given Jonny a hard time about the way that the Magnus Institute archives and artefact storage are shown as working (or, I mean, not working) in the podcast. Not just in terms of best practices (where) but also like… archives can be spooky, it can be a spooky job, but not really for those reasons, you know? Anyway, I think that Protocols Episode 9 actually engages with the archives’ role as an archives in a way that’s really, really interesting. Qualifications: I’m almost done with my master’s in Library and Information Science/Archives Management and have been working in actual archives of various types for a year and a half. 
Specifically, I’m really interested in how Dice Guy engages with the horror within the context of the donation process. We hear a lot about the horror that objects in this universe cause while they’re still in the possession of their pre-Institute owners-slash-avatars, and a lot about the horror that these objects cause when they’re mishandled (looking at you, Jon “It is Remarkably Easy to Buy An Axe in Central London” Sims) while being stored at the Institute, and every now and again we get to see Jon or Gertrude accept or turn down an offered object (the teeth apple, Eric Delano’s page, etc) in TMA. But this is one of the only places in the podcast(s) where the process of donation and acquisition registers as a part of the horror story for the people giving or receiving the object. I’m thinking specifically about the beginning of the “statement proper,” where the statement giver says:
“So yeah, I tell you all about them, how I got them, all that crap and you just… You take them away, right? You accept them. Good. I think. I’m pretty sure that’s how it works. It’s how it worked for me, at least. Put them in whatever vault you like, bury them, drop them in the ocean for all I care. All that matters is that they’re yours now.” 
At surface level, this disclaimer seems pretty similar to some of the other things that statement givers say in TMA: I just need to tell someone, I just need somebody else to know, You have the power to do something about this and I don’t, etc. But this statement differs from the ones we saw in TMA because it’s not just about catharsis or reaction to a terrible thing happening; it’s the actual change of ownership of the dice that gives this moment meaning within the horror story for Dice Guy. And this hinges on the fact that Dice Guy, like a lot of real-life people, sees the purpose of an archives as being locked vaults designed to keep non-expert people away from things they don’t know how to handle, rather than their actual purpose, which is to preserve things for the express purpose of making them accessible to the public. I imagine that the Magnus Institute, if it were real, would have some pretty strict access policies due to, you know, special circumstances– the stuff it holds generally having the ability to kill or maim or otherwise make people’s lives miserable– but it’s fun to think about. If Dice Guy had understood the fact that archivists and staff and conservationists and sometimes researchers interact* with the materials in their care, would he have still donated the dice? Was he at the point where it didn’t matter who got the bad luck, as long as it wasn’t him, or was he leaning on the stereotype of archives being locked vaults as a way to absolve himself of the guilt of giving the dice away to a person, because people use the things they're given and he thinks archives don't? 
It also raises some interesting questions about ownership. Real archivists think about the ethics of donation, acquisition, and ownership a lot. What does it mean for somebody to give something to an archive? What does it mean to accept it, therefore a) accepting responsibility for the preservation of the object and b) assigning cultural/historical/ideological value to it? This is where TMAGP comes pretty close to real archival theory: Dice Guy thinks that he’s nullifying the dice’s power by giving them to the Institute, but isn’t it true that to accept an object into an archive assigns it a level of power? The notes at the beginning of the statement seem to suggest that the dice coming under the Institute’s ownership lends them power beyond what they had originally, as well: “Viability as Subject,” “Viability as agent,” “Viability as catalyst,” “Recommend referral to Catalytics for Enrichment Applicability Assessment.” To me, this says that maybe the dice were in the running to potentially be chosen for the role that the tape recorders fill in TMA– to facilitate, or serve as a catalyst for, the narrative/the fears’ growing power by being passed to the “agent” (Jon or Jon-equivalent) through the Magnus Institute. We, the audience, know that, if the dice had been selected to fill the tape recorder role, that would give them the potential not just to make one individual’s life more miserable, but to fundamentally change the entire world a la TMA 160 and 200. 
*In TMA canon, the Web uses the Magnus Institute as a site for agents and catalysts to interact, just as much as the Eye does if not more. The fact that the archives is a site of interaction between people and particular objects is critical to the narrative as told by the Web, even if it seems incidental to Jon–and even if Jon doesn’t understand the archives that way. It’s an interesting way to look at the Magnus Institute and archives as functioning in a similar way to actual archives, which serve as sites of interaction between people and historical objects (in spite of Jon’s complete lack of ability to function as a regular archivist.)
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thegreymoon · 5 days
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Hi. My question is in regards to 2ha. It's 2024 and we still have bad takes. However, one that annoys me the most is people saying that the flower twist happened to excuse mo ran's SA of chu wanning. What do you have to say about this? How can i frame my response in a way that'll shut these people up?
Hey, anon!
Unfortunately, you can't shut people up. People are going to have all kinds of takes and opinions and your best bet is not to get drawn into fandom wank.
With that said, I believe that the flower twist is very important for two reasons. The first reason is that the flower is not there to absolve Mo Ran, but to condemn Hua Binan. Some months ago, I not only didn't follow my own advice about not engaging in fandom wank, I also rolled about in it like a pig in a mire and in the process wrote a very angry rant because someone who had not even read the book was calling it dumb. In it, among other things, I said:
The message of 2ha is that violence breeds more violence and that suffering breeds more suffering. Monsters are created, not born, the world is cruel and unfair, and there is no justice, but no matter what was done to you, when you turn around and inflict that same violence onto others, you transform from a victim into the very monster that you hate. This is why Mo Ran, who was Shi Mei’s first victim, also being a BBBF is thematically so important. By doing what he did to Mo Ran, Shi Mei invalidated his own cause right from the very start. This is Meatbun’s explicit condemnation of Shi Mei’s spree of retribution and quest for power. 
Shi Mei—who was a member of a group of people who were dehumanised, genocided, brutalized and enslaved—proceeded to, for his own benefit, dehumanize, genocide, brutalize and enslave others. What’s worse, he did not turn against those who had wronged him (or at least not immediately), but against those who were weaker than him, unguarded against him, and who would have, if they had known of his bloodline, loved and protected him anyway. Mo Ran, whom he violated to such a horrific extent, turning out to be a BBBF himself is a narrative rebuke of Shi Mei’s actions distilled to its most concentrated form.
The flower is not there to excuse Mo Ran's SA of Chu Wanning, that is just complete nonsense. I feel like a lot of people get too invested in the idea of 2ha having a villain protagonist and cannot reconcile themselves to the fact that he was the victim. Accepting that feels like a loss to them, so it is easier to say that the twist is cheap and nonsensical than to change their perspective of Mo Ran as someone weak and controlled rather than as someone powerful and in control. Then, there is the other group which read "rape" in the trigger warnings list and skimmed through the book just to get on their high horse and flap their mouths about how superior they are for not letting the book trick them into excusing it. If that was the only thing one took away from this twist after all the important messages Meatbun conveyed with the fact that Mo Ran was also the victim here, then they have completely missed the point. People who are so bothered by the non-con to the extent that they are blinded to ANYTHING ELSE written in this book should not have read 2ha to begin with.
The second reason is that 2ha is beautifully composed. it is very cyclical, the plot starts out very vague and broad and then moves inwards, in concentric circles until we finally get to the core and there, we find that Chu Wanning was actually Mo Ran's first love, just like Mo Ran was his. It removes the taint of Mo Ran's idiotic obsession with Shi Mei from the start of the novel which was manufactured and fake. We finally get to see the full picture and that his true love for Chu Wanning was always there, fighting to break out all along, even when he couldn't consciously process it. In fact, that twist is hardly a twist at all once you know it, it is so logical, because even though we love to blame all the misunderstandings and miscommunications in the first half on Mo Ran being "dumb", it is obvious from the start that there is something wrong with his memory and his way of thinking. Suddenly, it all makes sense.
However, one of the most impressive things about this book is the balance and the symmetry between the two leads. One is demonic, the other is divine. One is an extrovert, the other is an introvert. One is neat, the other is messy. One can cook, the other cannot. But they are both powerful, they are both equally obsessed with each other, devoted, jealous and unhinged and as such, they must be equal in all things. Chu Wanning's suffering and sacrifice for Mo Ran were so great, Mo Ran's suffering and sacrifice had to correspond in both gravity and horror. This is where the flower comes in. Taking the flower is Mo Ran's sacrifice and existing as Taxian-jun is his suffering. Because, make no mistake, Mo Ran as Taxian-jun suffered beyond comprehension.
Anyway, if you go through my 2ha, 2ha meta, mo ran and taxian-jun tags I am sure you can find lots and lots of my thoughts on Taxian-jun, Mo Ran's true nature, the cursed flower and him turning out to be a demon in the end.
Anyway, I hope my answer helps! :)
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sassyduckqueen · 1 year
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Miraculous: Rise of Anatis 74
I'm back!!!
Ok so chronically this is set just before Pumpkin King. I was intending to release it around Halloween but things didn't work out that way and I lost inspiration for a while. All the crap that is season 5 was putting me off because frankly it sounds so bad, I can't even deal with it. Luckily, inspiration came back and with good timing too as I heard about the spoilers for the end of season 5. I don't know all of them but from what I've seen it's going to be terrible so have some Anatis to cheer you all up. Also we're got some build up and new character kind of. Regarding Felix Sr, I did intend for him to simply be an Easter egg but this is also me we're talking about. Of course, it wasn't going to stay that way. Anyway, enjoy the chapter and fair warning. This is probably going to the last 'light' chapter for a while as we are going to be dealing with some dark stuff. Truth, Lies and Gang of Secrets are coming up but we also have Trio of Terror which is next, Assassin Bee and a chapter which is going to change everything for our heroes but I'm not gonna tell you who the villain of that one is. Get ready for one hell of a ride.
Also!!! I hope everyone have had good holidays and are looking forward to the new year!!
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Chapter Seventy-Four: Party Crasher
~Outside Agreste Manor~
 The young man stood outside of Agreste Manor, repeatedly ringing the doorbell but getting no answer. His expression fell as he listened to the sound of people laughing and music playing. Why was he excluded? He was a friend of Adrien's right. Sure, he was his biggest fan and had a habit of getting excited in front of him but he had his number and email. He traded messages with him and tried to treat him with respect so why wasn't he invited? Did Adrien feel deep down that he was only a fan and not a friend? He frowned and took out his phone, dialling Adrien's number. It rang several times but no one answered.
 "This is Adrien's voicemail," Adrien's voice declared, mocking his pain. "Leave a message,"
 He hung up and looked up at the manor with tears in his eyes. 
 "Not only are you allowed to have friends over but apparently a huge party is no big deal either," He declared, looking down. "Why did you lie to me, Adrien?"
 A single tear rolled down his cheek as the scene flashed like a broken tv, changing to a new one. This time, an akuma dressed in silver seventies dance gear kicked down the door of Agreste manor and began to attack people, absolving them into his disco balls. A number of them got away including Adrien but he was relentless, chasing after them. Luckily, Anatis and Lady Noir turned up, causing him to focus his attention on them. The three engaged in a battle, dodging each other's moves but somehow he was able to predict their moves. He kicked Lady Noir to the curb and went to absorb her but Anatis pulled her out of the way with his yoyo. However, the akuma fired at them, causing them to jump from where they were. Just as Anatis landed, the akuma hit him with his disco ball, absorbing him. Lady Noir cried out in shock but before she could work out what to do next, the akuma turned on her, relentless attacking her and forcing her to fight. She tried her best to fend him off but he was predicting her every move. It was obvious she needed backup as the scene once again flashed, changing once more. This time, Lady Noir was trying to catch her breathe as the akuma smirked at her.
 "You can't beat me, Kitty cat," He declared as she tried to hold her ground. "I can read your every dance step and you're all alone,"
 "She's not alone!" A second voice declared as the turtle hero Leatherback jumped down with Aspik and Valkyrie. Lady Noir couldn't help the smile that came on her face. "Don't worry, Lady Noir. We've got your back. Aspik!"
 "Second chance!" Aspik declared as the butterfly mask appeared around the akuma's eyes. Up in the rooftops, Apollo lifted his bow and arrow, pointing it at the akuma as the mask disappeared.
 "Flar-" He started but before he could activate his power, the akuma fired at him and absorbed him. Aspik flicked back the bracelet and went to throw his lyre at the villain but got absorbed and then the villain absorbed both Apollo and his arrow as well as Valkyrie. Leatherback then tried to protect Lady Noir with his shelter but like the others, he was taken out as well, leaving Lady Noir alone. Before the villain could attack her, Dame managed to knock him back and turned to Lady Noir.
 "Get ou-" She didn't even finish her sentence before he absorbed her. Lady Noir backed away as ashes surrounded the area but the akuma slammed his fist towards the right side, absorbing Phenix too. Once again, Lady Noir was the last one standing and this time she didn't last much longer...
 Felix Sr jolted awake with a startle, just as Lady Noir was absorbed by the akuma's power in his dream. He sucked in his breath as sweat dripped down his forehead and Bridgette made a noise, causing him to look over in fear. However, his eyes softened upon seeing her, cuddling to the plushie she insisted on having in their bed. He smiled a little and dropped a kiss on her hair before getting up and going over to their bathroom, glancing at the clock as he did. He regretted it instantly as it was 3.31am. That explained the dream. He shook his head and turned on the light, running the tap and washing his face.
 "Damn witching hour," He muttered, grabbing his towel and drying his face. "Stupid dreams,"
 He walked back into his room and sat on the bed, covering his face with his hand. He needed to do something about these dreams. He's had the same one for the last four days at the exact same time of 3.31am. He groaned as he thought about it. It was clearly an akuma and clearly Anatis and Lady Noir were going to lose but he knew they couldn't afford to lose. If Hawkmoth got their miraculous, it would be the end of the world. He knew what that wish did. He knew how dangerous it was but he swore he was done with this stuff. He didn't want to get involved. He shook his head and went back to bed, closing his eyes. However, the next moment he opened them, his location had changed. He was in the office and the clock read 3.31pm. His assistant manager was looking at him with concern. 
 "Sir, are you ok?" She asked, making him look at her. She honestly looked terrified. Looking down at the paper on the desk and the pen in his hand, he could see why."You zoned out and started to write like you were possessed,"
 He ignored her and picked up the paper, frowning as he looked at the drawing of the akuma smiling like he had won the lottery. This was getting worse. He may need to talk to a therapist again or take something to repress it. He got up and threw the paper away before walking out of the room, ignoring his assistant manager's concerned look. As he walked, he blinked and found himself once again, waking up from his nightmare at 3.31am again. He groaned and blinked. Another day in the office with the same drawing haunting him. Another blink. Back to the dream. Another and back to the office.
 "FINE!" He shouted after waking up from the dream again, causing Bridgette to jolt awake. "Fine! I'll help them ok?!"
 "Felix?" She asked, causing him to look over as she sat up. "Are you ok?"
 "No," He answered, making her frown and wrapping her arms around his torso. "The dreams are back,"
 "What did they show this time?" She asked, placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder.
 "The heroes falling to a new akuma," He replied, making her frown. "I can't stop that,"
 "But can you change the outcome?" She asked, making him sigh. 
 "Maybe," He replied, turning to her. "But I'll have to go see her,"
 "Want me to come with you?" She asked but he shook his head. "Ok but if you change your mind, just call me,"
 "Thank you," He whispered, climbing back into bed and hugging her. She ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him. "I'll call into the office today and go find her in the park,"
 "Tell her that I say hi," She replied, causing him to nod before they both drifted to sleep. A few hours later, Felix was walking towards the park, thinking about the events that were to come. He hated his dreams because he couldn't change the events that were shown in them. He tried but it never worked. He could only change the outcome which might sound like the same thing but it wasn't. If someone was meant to die, they would die but that doesn't mean that someone had to see it. In this case, the heroes would be captured regardless of what he did but that didn't mean Hawkmoth had to win. He could change that. He just didn't know how yet. He came to a stop as he saw an older woman sat feeding the birds and humming to herself. She had her grey hair tied in a bun and wore a yellow dress with a brown jacket. She glanced up with green eyes as he walked over.
 "Felix Culpa," She smiled as he sat next to you. "It's been a while,"
 "Grand Witch of London," He stated, making her smile. "I'm afraid this isn't a social call,"
 "Oh?"
 "Do you still have what I gave to you three years ago?" He asked, looking straight ahead. She pursed her lips and nodded. "Good. I need it back,"
 "Are you sure?" She asked. "You swore you were done with magic and miraculous when you entrusted it to me,"
 "Well, I was but my dreams are back, Marianne," He stated, looking at her. "And the universe keeps on bugging me,"
 "I see. Does this mean you'll also be taking back your official title again?" She asked, making him but he nodded nevertheless. She nodded as well before pulling out her purse and opening it. "Well, then it's lucky for you that I had a feeling that I should bring this with me,"
 She pulled out a collar brooch shaped like two black wings before handing it back to Felix Sr. 
 "Good luck, Felix,"
 ~A couple of Days later in Gabriel's office~
 "Is everything going according to plan, Natalie?" Gabriel asked as he held the phone to his ear. Nathalie was driving 'him' to the airport for Tokyo's fashion weekend but in reality, he was using the peace and quiet to harvest his akumas and study the grimoire with Su Han. Of course, he still had to appear at the actual fashion day but luckily, he had already got a plan for that. As usual, he would appear in tablet form. The whole thing with him in the car was really just keeping up appearances but anyone who knew him knew he wouldn't actually appear in person. 
 "Yes. Enroute to the airport, Sir," Natalie confirmed, dragging him out of his thoughts. "You will officially be spending the entire weekend in Tokyo. No one will ever suspect that you stayed home. Just don't forget to pick up when it comes to the gala,"
 "Perfect and I know," He replied before hanging up and walking over to the painting of Emile. He pressed the buttons in, activating the floor platform before it took him down to his butterfly garden. Nooroo flew out of his pocket and floated next to him. As soon as the lift door opened, he strolled across to Emilie's coffin and stood in front of it with Nooroo following him. "Emilie, we miss you so much but you'll be back with us very soon. Thanks to my akumas and my new mentor, it's only a matter of time before I take control of their miraculous. Merging them will give me absolute power to reshape reality and finally erase our past mistake,"
 "As long as you keep your side of the deal," Su Han's voice echoed as shadows moved around the room, making Gabriel frown. Of course, he had no intention of keeping his side of the deal but Su Han nor his creepy little pet needed to know that. "You've seen what happens to those who fail or betray us,"
 "Of course, I will honour my side," He lied, putting on a brave face as he turned around. He had no intention of ending up the same way as that fool Xavier. "But perhaps your beast should restrain it's hunger for now,"
 And why should I do that? An echo-like voice replied, sending shivers down Gabriel's spine as the shadows moved around, constricting around his neck. Or maybe I should devour your soul too...
 "Do that and I guarantee you won't find the mage," He replied, calmly as the shadowy snake hissed near his ear. "After all, once I have the miraculous in my grasp, we make the heroes talk and reveal who their guardian is and in turn, he will lead us to the mage then you can feast as much as your black heart desires,"
 "Simme, enough," Su Han ordered, causing the spirit to glare at him with crimson eyes but it pulled away from Gabriel and slithered over to the window. “We’ll be having a meeting with the rest tomorrow but for now let’s continue your training,”
 You two have no sense of humour but I digress... It hissed, climbing up the wall as both Gabriel and Su Han rose an eyebrow. I'm off. Have fun with your boring lessons and butterfly pickings...
 Just as the shadow slid out of the window, a number of butterflies fluttered around.
 "They're ready," Gabriel grinned before turning to Nooroo. "Time to Harvest,"
 ~The Next Day Outside of Agreste Manor~
 "I can't believe Adrien actually decided to throw a party for Halloween. I'm so proud of him," Chloe gasped, pressing her hand against her heart as she pretended to wipe a tear from her eye before grinning. Marinette and Luka chuckled as they walked with her to the party. Alya had to babysit her sisters so sadly she couldn't come along at that moment but promised to be by later on. Luckily, Nino and the rest of the gang were there to keep him entertained as well as Kagami. Zoe was also coming along. They were originally going to come dressed up but Adrien asked them not to. He also only wanted a small number of people there but progress was still being made. Luka was still proud of how far he had come. "Admittedly it's a bit early since it's half way through October but needs must and all! I'm still proud of him!"
 "Me too!" Marinette declared, smiling as she held Luka's hand. "I just hope nothing goes wrong,"
 "Well, we have the Gorilla on our side," Chloe grinned. "Even Nathalie went behind Gabriel's back and gave Adrien some suggestions on how to make sure the house looked perfect once we're done,"
 "Wow, I didn't expect that from her," Luka replied as they came to the gate of the mansion. They rang the doorbell and soon they were inside, hanging with Adrien. Luka couldn't help but smile as he listened to the music of the room. Normally it was an extremely sombre feeling that came from the manor and while it was still there, it wasn't the dominant song. Right now, a song of joy and fun was playing. Adrien was sitting chatting with his friends, visibly relaxed as Kagami stroked his hair. Nino and Max were playing with music and the girls were playing some pool. The Gorilla had ordered Pizza and not long after it arrived, Alya arrived as well, finally free from babysitting.
 "So what did I miss?" She grinned, grabbing a slice of pizza. "And why is this music so quiet?"
 "Ah that would be the sound control," Adrien replied, making her frown. "And not much. Lila attempted to come by but the Gorilla told her I was busy with my Chinese lessons so she wouldn't be able to tell Father what I'm actually doing,"
 "Urg typical Lila," Alya rolled her eyes as Max sat at the computer.
 "Well, we can't fix her but I can easily fix this volume," He replied, typing as Adrien gasped. "Don't worry it won't be too loud, Adrien. Marvok, care to assist,"
 "Of course, Max," Marvok replied, flying over as Max typed before plugging himself in as Adrien watched with fascination. "I just need to hook into the home's electrical panel,"
 "And we're in," Max grinned as the system appeared before he pushed up his glasses and began to read it. "Whoa,"
 "What?" Adrien asked, looking over. Max turned round and glanced towards him.
 "Your house's power supply is insane," He grinned, causing Luka to look over as Adrien got up and looked over. "This could compete with a nuclear power station,"
 "For real?" Nino asked, making Luka more curious. Why did Agreste manor have such a power supply? He got up and walked over as Max typed.
 "And a lot of it is being redirected somewhere," Max replied, making him frown as he looked over. He didn't understand any of it. "That is odd,"
 "I'm not surprised," A new voice stated, causing them to look over before Adrien broke into a massive grin as he rushed over to Felix who was stood by the door. He hugged him, causing him to pat him on the back before he walked over to Max. "Uncle always had to have the biggest and best things. Chances are that energy is going to some weird fashion device that he just had to buy,"
 "Sounds about right for Gabriel," Another voice replied, causing Adrien to look back. Felix Sr was stood leaning against the door, looking moody as usual as the kids looked over at him, unsure if they should continue with the party. "Oh, don't let my presence stop you from having fun. Adrien, rebelling against your father hm? I'm so proud of you,"
 "Thanks, Uncle Felix," He grinned, causing him to walk over and ruffle his hair. "I didn't expect you to visit though,"
 "If your father was here, I clearly wouldn't be," He replied, making Adrien. "But Felix happened to inform me that my dearest brother in law is out of the country at the moment and suggested I come by to spend some time with my nephew since I never get a chance too,"
 "I'm so glad!" Adrien grinned, hugging him. Felix Sr seemed taken back by it but patted his back nevertheless. "I wish Father hadn't banned you from the house,"
 "Well, that's Gabriel for you," He replied. "Ever so melodramatic,"
 "Hang on!" Nino declared, making him look at him. "You're both called Felix?!"
 "Yes," Felix Jr replied. "Family tradition,"
 "It is believed that good luck comes to our family if the first born son is named Felix," Felix Sr replied, making the kids nod. "But since there's two of us, you can refer to me as Lex. It's the nickname I go by. Though I don't want to interrupt your party so I'll go chat with Anton," 
 He turned on his heel and headed to the door.
 "Of course, I would advise you not to post about this on social media," He stated, making everyone blink. "I'd hate for Gabriel's house to get trashed but then again, you can't really call this a party now,"
 With that, he left, causing the kids to blink as Felix typed away on his phone.
 "And send," He stated, making everyone look at him. "What?"
 "Did you just post about the party on social media?" Adrien asked, a little panicked.
 "Uncle's idea," Felix replied, smirking. "Besides, your old man isn't here and as long as we clear up, he'll never know so let your hair down for once and have some fun. Also I said it was my party, not yours. That way Uncle can't get mad at you,"
 "Felix..." Adrien replied before grinning. "You're the best!"
 "Yes, well someone needs to liven this party up," Felix muttered but he had a smile on his face and soon enough, the small gathering had turned into a full blown party with practically all of Paris' famous there. Luka smiled to himself as he sat next to Jagged on Adrien's piano as he played his guitar with his dad. It was perfect. Adrien looked really happy to have his friends around, Marinette was goofing around with Juleka and the rest of the girls while trying to get Felix and Kagami to join them in their dance. Even Felix Sr had also come back in and had started chatting with Anarka. Seeing an opportunity to share how proud of Luka he was, Jagged stopped playing the piano and asked Max to take over the music before joining in with the conversation. Despite the conversation and the clearly happy atmosphere, Luka couldn't help but noticed that Felix Sr seemed on edge but then again Felix Sr always seemed on edge. Luka just assumed it was his nature. He smiled and jumped down from the piano before placing his guitar on the side and began to head over towards Marinette, who was leading the charge as the girl squad attempted to dance. She marched up and down happily as Alya spun around before both girls ended up almost falling over. They caught each other and burst into laughter as he smiled. However, he stopped as a cold shiver moved down his spine, causing him to look towards the bar area. To his surprise, he saw Master Fu sitting there. His eyes widened in shock but he quickly hid the expression and looked back over at Marinette. She was now attempting to get Zoe to join in. He walked over and gave Marinette a peck on the cheek as Jagged declared that the music should be louder.
 "Do you want a drink, Melody?" He asked, making her look at him.
 "Yes please!" She grinned, making him smile back. Her song was so loud and full of energy that he could write a thousand songs and it would not be enough to describe how beautiful she sounded. "Can you get me a lemonade please?"
 "Of course," He smiled, pecking her cheek again before heading back over to the bar area where Master Fu was sitting. He grabbed a can before looking for a cup near Master Fu before whispering. "Master... Why are you here? Are the miraculous... you know..."
 "The miraculous are safe... besides, don't party like this is bound to attract some trouble, don't you think?" He replied, not even looking at Luka who frowned as he patted the cooler next to him. He had a point. Police could get annoyed at the noise. Not to mention that the Gorilla could freak out. "Mila is here too..."
 Luka glanced around and noticed Mila chatting to his parents and Felix Sr.
 "On top of that, Mila and I noticed a number of people of interest entering the building through the back way half an hour ago,"
 "People of interest?" Luka asked, frowning.
 "Yes, Mrs Bourgeois, Mrs Graham de Vanily and Mrs Tsurugi," He replied, making Luka frown even more. "Yet I heard that Mr Agreste isn't here,"
 "So why would they be entering the building?" He asked, frowning as he put down two cups. "Did you happen to see where they went?"
 "Interestingly enough, they went into Mr Agreste's office," He replied, making Luka frown. He needed to have a look. He still suspected Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth even though he got akumatized but why have a meeting when Gabriel supposedly wasn't in town? Not just that but why did this house have such a massive power supply and where was it going to? "I planned to stick nearby in case but this party gave me the opportunity to come in,"
 "I need to have a look in his office," Luka muttered, frowning before he took the drinks and walked over to Marinette who was now joined by Adrien. "Here we are,"
 "Thanks," She grinned, taking it and slipping the drink as he sipped his own. "This is the coolest party I've been to!"
 "Thanks," Adrien grinned as Kagami smiled. "I didn't even know parties could be so cool. Even my chinese teacher came by and he brought his wife!"
 Luka almost spat out his drink at that. Mila was pretending to be Fu's wife?! Seriously?! He coughed as Adrien made sure he was ok.
 "I'm fine," He coughed, waving his hand. "But I could do with a little bit of fresh air so I'm just gonna step out. There's a lot of songs in this room. It's a bit overwhelming,"
 "Oh, would you like me to come with you?" Marinette asked with a worried look but he gave her a soft smile and shook his head. "Are you sure?"
 "Yep, I'll be fine," He reassured, pecking her cheek. "I won't be long,"
 "Well ok but don't be afraid to get me if you need me," She replied, kissing his cheek. He smiled bashfully and nodded before leaving the room. As soon as he was out, he ducked into a separate room and glanced around, checking for cameras in case. Satisfied with his look, he took out a yellow magicron.
 "Tikki," He whispered, causing her to fly out of his pocket as he held it up. "Time to test it out,"
 "Ok," She nodded as he tossed it to her. She swallowed it whole.
 "Tikki, power up!" He whispered, causing her to transform.
 "Altikki!" She declared, causing him to swipe his ear.
 "Altikki, spots on," He declared, transforming into a new form. His hair was completely black and he wore his usual suit but it was darker than normal and the red section had camouflage. He smiled before his suit shimmered, changing to blend into the place. In this case, it turned white including his hair making him blend in with the walls. "Time to investigate,"
 ~Underneath Agreste Manor~
 "I hope you didn't just invite us here to harvest butterflies," Audrey stated, looking at the butterfly garden with disgust as Gabriel clipped them. "It's like you're not even trying to hide that you're working with Hawkmoth. How much is he paying you to do this? Is that why your fashion house has fallen on hard times?"
 "I appropriate the concern, Audrey," Gabriel replied, placing a cocoon in the basket. "But whatever I have going with Hawkmoth is between me and him,"
 "Alright, keep your secrets to yourself," Audrey replied, smirking. "But seriously why gather us here?"
 "Because I asked him to," Su Han's voice stated, causing the others to look at him with shock as he walked over with his arms behind his back. Simme trailed behind him, munching on some pigeons. "I wish to know if any of you have made any progress with tracking down the mage,"
 "I have not, grand master," Audery replied, frowning. "But my darling daughter is investigating a number of people. I have her look into-"
 "I don't care unless they're the mage," He hissed, making her go quiet. "And you, Madam Tsurugi?"
 "The mage has not made an appearance to me yet nor to my kin," She stated in her usual manner. "I have taken the liberty to contact my brother . He is flying to france as we speak,"
 "Excellent," Su Han smirked. Tsurugi Zenaku was legendary in the underworld. A skilled assassin who could track and find any target and who didn't care whom he killed. He also had the Cobra Miraculous. Not that he needed it. "Send him my way when he arrives,"
 "Yes, Grand Mage,"
 "And you Amelie?" He asked, looking at her. "Any news for me?"
 She went to open her mouth but before she could, the electricity shut off. All of them looked around before Gabriel gasped and left the area. Su Han narrowed his eyes before following.
 "What is the meaning of this, Gabriel?" He demanded as the man checked on his wife before ignoring him and rushing over to the lift. He entered it but got stuck half way up. He slammed his fists against it before transforming into Hawkmoth and breaking free. He jumped down and rushed back over to his wife. "Agreste?"
 "The electricity has been switched off. My wife's cryo chamber is using the back up energy but it won't last forever," He declared, glancing back over there. "I need someone to restore power from the outside,"
 "So akumatize someone," Simme hissed before laughing. "Or your wifeicle will melt,"
 "Hush," Su Han replied, narrowing his eyes at Hawkmoth. "Sort it out while I continue the meeting,"
 "Of course," He replied, closing his eyes as Su Han walked back over to the other area. He tried to focus on a negative emotion. "I don't feel any negative emotion. There's only-"
 His eyes snapped open and widened as he felt it.
 "Joy!" He growled, getting annoyed. "What's going on in my house?!"
 He closed his eyes again and focused harder, trying to track down any negative emotion. As he did so, Wayhem stood outside of Agreste Manor and repeatedly rang the doorbell but was getting no answer. His expression fell as he listened to the sound of people laughing and music playing. Why was he excluded? He was a friend of Adrien's right. Sure, he was his biggest fan and had a habit of getting excited in front of him but he had his number and email. He traded messages with him and tried to treat him with respect so why wasn't he invited? Did Adrien feel deep down that he was only a fan and not a friend? He frowned and took out his phone, dialling Adrien's number. It rang several times but no one answered.
 "This is Adrien's voicemail," Adrien's voice declared, mocking his pain. "Leave a message,"
 He hung up and looked up at the manor with tears in his eyes. 
 "Not only are you allowed to have friends over but apparently a huge party is no big deal either," He declared, looking down. "Why did you lie to me, Adrien?"
 A single tear rolled down his cheek as Hawkmoth honed in on his pain.
 "Ah! I can feel a negative emotion!" He declared, holding out his hand and screwing it into a fist. "At last, an unexpected and powerful wave of disappointment!"
 He held out his hand, causing a butterfly to land on before charging it up with his evil energy.
 "Fly away, my little akuma and evilize him!" He declared, allowing to fly off. It made its way to Wayhem and entered the prank glasses he had just as he walked off, causing the connection between him and Hawkmoth to open. "Party Crasher, I am Hawkmoth... so you weren't invited?! Well, I'm giving you the power to crash that party and end it for good! All I ask in return is for you to bring me Anatis' and Lady Noir's miraculous? Oh and to find the source of this power cut? Do we have a deal?"
 "Let's get this party started, Hawkmoth!"
 "Excellent,"
 ~Back in Agreste Manor~
 Anatis frowned as he looked around Gabriel's office. Nothing seemed out of place but that's why he decided to try out the stealth suit. Not only did it allow him to move without being detected by anyone or anything but it also gave him some other useful abilities. He tapped the side of his mask, causing lens to appear over his eyes that allowed him to see footprints. He really should ask how Sir Rene came up with such an idea and how they worked in the ancient world. He glanced around and noticed several footsteps. So they had definitely been in here but they appeared to only lead into here. As far as he could see, they hadn't left yet but no one was in the room. He frowned and followed the footsteps, leading to the portrait of Emile Agreste. He frowned a little more and looked up. The portrait seemed fairly normal so he trapped his mask again, causing the lens to change once more. This time it allowed him to glance through the portrait. He could see there was a safe behind it but that made sense. Of course, Gabriel has a safe behind it but maybe there was a secret here that he couldn't see. He stepped forward and moved his hand across the frame, looking for a secret button. There might be a hidden passage behind the picture and safe but before he could examine it more, the sounds of screams caught his attention. He turned on his heel and rushed to the door, looking outside. The front door was missing, the gorilla was gone and the guests were running out of the manor, terrified. He frowned and shut the door.
 "Tikki, spots off," He replied, turning back to his normal form before rushing outside and throwing his yoyo. To his surprise, the villain who looked like some crazy disco guy ducked down, causing his yoyo to miss him but luckily his target was able to get away. He fired a silver beam at Anatis who jumped out of the way as Lady Noir's baton flew at the Party Crasher. Once again, he ducked and fired at her but she grabbed her baton as she jumped out of the way, landing next to Anatis. "Alright, Disco guy. This party is over!"
 "Fools!" He declared, pointing at them as he walked out of the house. "All I need is to touch you then your miraculous will be mine!"
 "Well, obviously, we're not gonna let that happen!" Lady Noir shot back. "We'll free your victims instead!"
 He charged at them, causing them to jump back into the street as they avoided his disco balls.
 "Lady Noir, would you mind distracting our party fiend?"
 "You got it, bug boy!" She winked before charging at him as Anatis threw his yoyo and flew up to a statue. He was about to summon his lucky charm when he saw Lady Noir being kicked by Party Crasher before he went to touch her.
 "Lady Noir!" He called out, throwing his yoyo and pulling her to safety. "You ok, Kitty?"
 "I am now," She grinned as he held her in his arms. "But how did he figure out my moves?"
 "He must have anticipated our moves?" He frowned as he put her down. "We're gonna need to figure out how to surprise him,"
 "How about we use some of that luck of yours then?" She grinned, leaning on her baton. "We might just need a party favour to sort out this guy,"
 "Sounds good to me," He replied, putting her down and throwing up his yoyo, causing his outfit to transform into the power up version. "Lucky charm!"
 The magical swamp appeared from his yoyo and formed a shape that dropped into his hand.
 "An old cassette tape?" He questioned, looked at it but before he could work it out, Party Crasher fired at him and Lady Noir. Both of them jumped out of the way and Anatis went to land on the ground but as soon as he did, Party Crasher slammed his disco ball into him, causing his eyes to widen in shock before he disappeared.
 "Annie!" Lady Noir screamed as he disappeared but Party Crasher soon came after her. She dodged and jumped out of the way but he was relentless in his attacks and she was clearly outmatched. She really needed backup and she needed it now.
 ~Meanwhile~
 Felix Sr frowned from where he was. He was stood on top of Agreste Manor Anatis had been captured and Lady Noir was on her own, just like his vision showed. He narrowed his eyes and saw the guardian of the miraculous placing various miraculous to whom he would assume were temporary heroes. Not far from the scene, Dame and Phenix Rogue stood nearby, already instructed by their mistress on what to do. She was smart enough to stay out of the fight and told them to wait until things were truly desperate before joining this one. He understood why they weren't moving yet, even with Anatis absorbed. Giving away their positions right now would be a stupid move. Their mistress had taught them that. His eyes returned back to the scene as Apsik was absorbed. It wouldn't be long before the others were absorbed, causing Dame and Phenix to try and save her but they will be absorbed too then finally Lady Noir. He knew he couldn't stop it but he will not let Hawkmoth win. He took out a swan brooch from his pocket and fixed it onto his shirt, causing a swan like Kwami to manifest. It resembled a black swan in looks. It blinked as it looked at him.
 "Fee!!" It declared, zooming around him. "I thought I'd never see you again!!"
 "Likewise, old friend," He replied, smiling a little. "But my time with the miraculous is not over yet, Vinne,"
 "Yay!!" Vinne declared, flying around him. "Let's kick butt!"
 "Yes, let's kick butt indeed," He replied, swiping his hand over the miraculous. "Vinne, Assemblé!" 
 "Whooooo!!" Vinne declared as he was sucked into the miraculous, causing it to glow and charge up before he moves his arms up and across each other, causing a red glow to appear on his hands before bringing them down and causing it to absorb his body. When it disappeared, his suit had changed into a new outfit. He wore a red shirt with a deep purple waistcoat that had silver buttons and swirls on it. His pants were black and he wore brown knee high boots. On his hands were fingerless gloves and his nails were painted black. The red glow formed a silver brooch with a red gem inside before travelling down as it created a red ruffle on the shirt. It spread across his shoulders, creating a black feather cape before it flowed down in three different areas, creating the rest of the cape that was black faded into purple in colour. He held one of his hands up in the air, creating a glowing red orb that transformed into a wooden staff with a red crystal ball on top that was surrounded by a black swan. He brought it down past his head, causing a mask to appear over his eyes and his hair to grow longer and wilder. His mask resembled a masquerade one. It was black and red with a silver line and half of it flickered up, resembling feathers. His eyes had also transformed from grey blue to red with black siries and upon his left ear sat a silver earring with a red crystal hanging off it. With the transformation complete, he casted his gaze down to Party Crasher who was now talking to Hawkmoth. Atrarus narrowed his eyes before diving off the building and slamming his staff into the ground, interrupting their conversation. Naturally, he missed Party Crasher but he dodged the beam fired at him and using his foresight, blocked Party Crasher's arm and slammed his staff into his ribs, sending him flying.
 "Now who's ruining my fun" Party Crasher demanded, glaring. Atrarus closed his eyes and saw Party Crasher coming at him, swinging his left disco ball before switching to his right. He opened his eyes as Party Crasher ran at him, swinging the left. He ducked and grabbed his right hand as he switched, throwing him over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground. "What?! How?!"
 "Did you think you're the only one who predict dance moves?" He questioned, smirking a little as Party Crasher growled.
 "Your miraculous is mine!"
 "Really now?" Atrarus answered, jumping back as Party Crasher rushed at him before almost hitting him.
 "Your miraculous won't help you predict my dance moves!" 
 "Funny because I'm not even using my miraculous power right now!" Atrarus replied, keeping up with Party Crasher's dance. "I'm using my own natural ability,"
 "Natural ability or not, I'll predict your next move!" 
 "Predict this!" Atrarus declared as Party Crasher fired at him as he lifted his staff. "Temporal Hiatus!"
 A red glow appeared in the crystal ball and echoed out, causing everything in its radius to suddenly stop including Party Crasher and his beam. Only Atrarus could move.
 "Even an akuma like you is not immune to the laws of time," Atrarus replied before jumping over to where Master Fu was hiding before he opened the cooler where the miraculous were hidden. "Excuse me, guardian but I need to borrow the monkey miraculous and I have just the person in mind,"
 He grabbed the miraculous and rushed back into Agreste Manor, heading into Adrien's room. When Party Crasher had crashed the party, most of the guests had ran out but to his surprise, Alya Cesaire, who previously had rushed head first with no regard for her own safety or her others, had actually used her brain and slipped into the bathroom instead during the chaos. Party Crasher didn't even think to look in there, he just assumed everyone had in fact left the building but Felix Sr had noticed her do that and saw the way to change the outcome because of it. He stepped inside the bathroom and saw her looking out the window. He only had a minute left of frozen time but he doubted that Party Crasher would follow him. 
 "Where did he go?!" He heard the sound of Party Crasher's voice and couldn't resist a smirk.
 "Wasn't there another hero?" Alya asked herself, causing him to clear his throat. She screamed and turned around. "What?! But you were just next to the villain!"
 "Yes and now I'm here,"
 "How?"
 "Magic," He deadpanned. "Now let's not waste any more time, shall we?"
 "Huh?" She blinked as he held out the box with the money miraculous. "Wait, is that? Anatis told-"
 "Anatis and Lady Noir are about to be delivered to Hawkmoth where he will then take the miraculous, merge them and use a wish that will destroy this world," He stated, shocking Alya. "And I have no intention of letting that happen so you're going to help me. Put that on and say the magic words,"
 "I'm sure Anatis has a full-"
 "Now Miss Cesaire before my patience wears thin,"
 "Ok, ok!" She gasped, taking the circlet out and putting it on her head. A golden ball of light appeared and spun around before turning into a monkey miraculous. "Oh wow!! This is wild!!"
 "Hey, what's going on here?" It declared, glaring at Atrarus. "You're not Anatis or the guardian!"
 "No but I am an ally and the acting Grand Mage of Paris," He replied, making the monkey gasp and Alya stare. "Now hurry up before the butterfly man wins,"
 "Right!" It replied, turning to Alya. "I'm Xuppu. To transform, just say Xuppu, showtime!"
 "Xuppu! Show time!"
 ~Outside of the Manor~
 "Excellent work, Party Crasher," Hawkmoth declared in his mind as he listened. "Now all you need to do is send me the miraculous!"
 "What about that other hero?" Party Crasher asked, concerned. 
 "He's run off like a coward," He replied, not caring. "Besides, he can't stop me! Now send them to me!"
 "Let's dance!" Party Crasher declared, using his powers to make a plane to get the miraculous to Hawkmoth but before he could get it to fly off, the annoying hero reappeared, slamming into him with his staff. "You again!"
 "Yes and this time I brought a friend to the party!" He replied, jumping out of the way of his beam before a staff was thrown at him. Party Crasher growled as he dodged it before looking up as a new hero joined them. She was wearing a brown and white suit with dark brown detail on the legs. Her boots were combat boots and she had some leg warmers that resembled ropes around her legs. She wore an orange jacket with dark brown arm pads and had brown gloves on. Her hair was tied up in a very messy bun with strands of her hair looking like a mane with two stands of hair by the sides of her face. The color was red brown that faded into orange and she wore a golden circlet on her head. There was a brown mask around her eyes and she had a rope around her waist that resembled a tail. She grinned as she grabbed her staff and jumped over to a statue, hanging off it.
 "Aww, you called me a friend!"She grinned before spinning her staff that turned golden. "Uproar!"
 Her staff created a golden light that in turn created a toy banana. She caught it and squeezed it, causing Party Crasher to laugh as the little plane flew off.
 "This is the best you could get?" He asked Atrarus who shrugged as the girl threw the banana. It hit Party Crasher in the chest and appeared to do nothing. "Seriously?"
 She smirked as the plane turned into a silver lama, causing Party Crasher to panic.
 "What's going on?!" He declared as the girl laughed. He stepped back in horror as his vision messed up, showing all kinds of things and colours. He couldn't predict anyone's moves right now.
 "Sorry about Tamarin!" Atrarus grinned as she ran towards the lama and jumped up. "She just loves disrupting others' powers! Right?"
 "Right!" She declared, slamming her staff into it. It exploded, causing a number of random things to rain down as she hopped back over to Atrarus as the other heroes and everyone else who had been captured appeared behind them. "Whoa, it worked!"
 "And to think you doubted my plan," Atrarus replied, placing his hand to his chest as Anatis looked around.
 "Everyone, get to safety! Me and my team will deal with Party Crasher," He ordered before turning to the new heroes. "Thanks for the assist,"
 "Yes, well I'd rather not see the end of the world," Atrarus replied as Tamarin grinned before he pulled Anatis out of the way of another beam. "Leatherback is it? Protect us will you?"
 "Yes, sir!" He replied, holding up his shield. "Shellter!"
 The force field appeared around them as Anatis rubbed the back of his neck.
 "Head in the game, Anatis," Atrarus stated sternly. "Now I believe you summoned a lucky charm before you were captured. Do you still have it?"
 "Yes," He replied, taking it out. "It's a cassette but I didn't get a chance to work out how to use it,"
 "Hmm, well Party Crasher's ability to prediction but clearly it's not on my level since I could easily outdo him,"
 "Your level?" Lady Noir asked, confused. "Wait, does your miraculous give you the same abilities?"
 "No," He replied, rolling his eyes. "I can simply see certain outcomes. Anyway, that doesn't help any of you. He can still predict your moves,"
 "You're right," Anatis replied, looking at the cassette before it lit up, along with everyone else. "Unless he can't predict our moves! Valkyrie, teleport here and get something that can play this!"
 "Yes, Boss!" She declared as he showed her a location, opening a portal and reaching in. "Sorry! I'll return it!"
 She pulled out an old cassette player.
 "Our friend here can predict our moves so the only way to defeat him is to make ourselves unpredictable," He declared, putting the casette in and pressing play, causing music to blast out as the rest of the group looked at him like he was insane. Atrarus had a feeling he was use to this. "In other words, freak out and show me your moves! Dame, would you mind making our dance moves better?"
 "Of course," She grinned, holding up her sword. "Empower!"
 The green glow went over all of them, making them feel stronger and faster. 
 "Well, here goes nothing," Phenix replied as Leatherback's shelter disappeared. Party Crasher grinned and went into a fighting stance but to his surprise and slight horror, the heroes just began to dance with no real rhyme at all.
 "What are you doing?! It's nonsense!" He stepped back as his vision began to be disrupted. "What the?!"
 He shook his head and charged at the group but thanks to empower and their own unique movements, they were able to block and dodge his moves before striking back. Phenix tripped him up and Dame aimed her sword at him, knocking him back as Apollo used Flare to blind him. He never got a chance to use it before he got captured. Aspik threw his lyre at his face as he charged at Valkyrie who ducked and kicked him in the back. He bounced back and charged at Leatherback who blocked his move with his shield then struck him in the gut, causing him to fall back. He growled and threw his fist at Tamarin who grabbed his arm and pushed him towards Lady Noir who kicked him in the first. Tamarin then struck him with her stick before Anatis jumped over and kicked him in the gut, causing his glasses to fall.
 "Anatis! The Glasses!" Atrarus declared as he saw them. "That's where the akuma is!"
 "Got it!" Anatis nodded and grabbed them, throwing them towards Lady Noir. "Kitten!"
 "Cataclysm!" She declared, grabbing them. As soon as they touched her hand, they crumbled into pieces. The akuma flew out and Anatis took out his yoyo before throwing it to capture the akuma and brought it back to himself. 
 "Bye, bye, Little Butterfly," He smiled as he tapped open the yoyo and let the now purified butterfly fly out before he pressed stop on the music and took out the tape, throwing it into the air as his outfit turned back to normal. The tape exploded into the magical swamp and swiped across the area, fixing everything before disappearing as Party Crasher turned into Wayhem. Anatis helped him to his feet before turning to the newcomers. "Thanks for- where did your friend go?"
 "Huh?" Tamarin gasped, looking around but Atrarus was nowhere to be seen. It was like he vanished into smoke. "Whoa! I guess he really is magic!"
 "Magic?" Anatis questioned before shaking his head. "Well thank you for the assistance, Tamarin but I'm afraid I can't let you keep the miraculous,"
 "I figured as much, Anatis," She grinned as Phenix and Dame said their goodbyes and jumped away. "But how come they don't have to give them back?"
 "They answer to someone else," He replied, making her nod as a number of the miraculous beeped. "I do have a lot to collect. Everyone, find a good hiding place. Lady Noir, could you lend me a paw to collect these?"
 "Sure!" She grinned, following Apollo, Valkyrie and Aspik while Leatherback hid in a different area. Tamarin followed Anatis to an alleyway before her transformation dropped, causing Anatis to look at her. "Hey,"
 "Alya Ceraise," He smiled as she handed him the circlet. "You did a good job today,"
 "Thanks," She grinned, rubbing the back of her neck. "But I guess this will probably be the only time,"
 "Keep on the right path and I'll be sure to call on Tamarin again," He smiled before swinging off to go get Leatherback's miraculous. Alya grinned and ran back to Agreste Manor to see if everyone else was ok from the attack.
 ~Underneath Agreste Manor~
 "I was so close this time, Nooroo!" Gabriel raged, slamming his fist against the wall. He had practically won then that new hero had appeared with his sidekick and saved the day. How did he even disappear like that?! Nooroo flinched as he slammed his fist again before hiding as someone knocked on the door. He opened it and glared at Su Han. "What?"
 "The meeting is to continue,"
 "Yes, that makes sense," He muttered, leaving the room as he walked over to the rest of the group. He looked at Su Han who looked annoyed. "Master Su Han, tell me is there a swan miraculous?"
 "Yes-"
 "A Swan?" Amelie asked, shocked before jumping up. "Forgive me, I must sort out something urgent,"
 With that, she rushed out. Su Han pinched his nose in annoyance.
 "Fine, this meeting is over," He replied, glaring. "I expect better results when we next meet,"
 The others nodded and left but Audery failed to notice Simme, following her. He tailed her inside the hotel then went his own way, searching. Not long after he came to Zoe's room and slipped inside as she sat in front of her vanity while her kwami brushed her hair.
 "Zoe," He hissed, making her look over as he appeared in his smaller form. "I require your assistant,"
 "Aren't you Master Su Han's kwami?" She asked, making him hiss and turn into his giant snake form. 
 "I am not a kwami, foolish girl!" He screeched, causing the shadows in her room to move and take scary forms. She gasped and jumped up in fear. "And he is not my master!"
 "I'm sorry!" She gasped, bowing. "I didn't know!"
 "Of course not, my dear child," He replied, changing back into his kwami form. "Now that we've cleared that up, I wish to have some fun and you're gonna help me,"
 "H-How?"
 "I want to join your school,"
 "B-But there's no more openings,"
 "Then make one!" He growled, making her gasp. "I'm bored and your school is a hot spot for akumas! A guy like me could have so much fun there. It's practically an all you can eat buffet,"
 "B-But you joining and then suddenly an increase in negativity could look really weird," She gasped, making him look at her. "That would bring the heroes to your front step so to speak but I have an idea if you're interested,"
 "An idea hmm?" He asked, moving around her as her kwami cowered away. Shadows wrapped around her neck making her gasp with fear. "It better not be a boring idea or I'll eat your soul,"
 "We-well, th-there's a school sports contest that is going to occur this week," She gasped, making him hum with interest. "Y-You could join the other school and play everyone against each other without looking too suspicious,"
 "Oh, my dear wasp," He smirked evilly. "Now that sounds like fun!"
 ~Felix Sr's House~
 "So are we back as a team?!" Vinne asked, flying around Felix's head as he placed a crystal on his window seal. "We were the best team!"
 "Well, I had every intention of leaving this world behind," Felix admitted as he waved his hand over the crystal, causing it to light up. "But apparently, it had no intention of leaving me behind so I guess we'll be working together but there will be some house rules. No dangerous pranks and you need to listen to me,"
 "Of course, of course!" Vinne grinned, placing his wings behind his head. "Ah this is gonna be great!"
 "I'm glad you think so," Felix replied as someone knocked on the door. "Vinne, stay here,"
 "Yes boss!" He declared, saluting him with his wing. Felix rolled his eyes and opened the door to his study before heading into the hallway as Bridgette let in Amelie. "Amelie, what are you doing here?"
 "I came because I need to talk with you,"
---------------------------------------------------------
Next Chapter: Coming soon (hopefully)
20 notes · View notes
zalrb · 4 months
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follow up to the media analysis question, how do you keep track of all the details? like for example if im watching a series I'll obviously keep track of the overall plot and theme of the series but I've seen you respond to asks with very specific moments in a show to illustrate your points.
for example in the first episode of TVD when elena says something to Jeremy about her concern bec of his drug use, you're able to track it to "okay she never actually does that" whereas most of the viewers go "okay she said that so its been established that she cares ab this."
or even w her humanity switch i saw people on a post arguing ab how damon didn't force her to do it bc most of the viewers didnt have in mind that she was sired (hell I feel like the writers didnt realise that either bc it's never acknowledged from what I remember)
(hell I feel like the writers didnt realise that either bc it's never acknowledged from what I remember)
Oh, the writers absolutely realized what they did. The fact she's sired is the point because it absolves her from any real responsibility since she didn't choose to turn off her humanity but it also allows her to do "dark" things and go through that part of the vampire experience but then they also wanted to keep Delena a viable option so they decided not to get into the fact that he forced her to turn off her humanity, which is hilarious because ignoring that also undercuts what Delena is meant to be, which is "messy" and "complicated" but they wanted it both ways
how do you keep track of all the details?
Well, like I keep saying, it's not at the forefront of my mind. Like, if I were to have an in person conversation with someone, I wouldn't necessarily be able to be as in depth as I am on tumblr because I wouldn't have the chance to think about it. I can take as long as I want with an ask and sort out exactly what I want to say.
for example in the first episode of TVD when elena says something to Jeremy about her concern bec of his drug use, you're able to track it to "okay she never actually does that" whereas most of the viewers go "okay she said that so its been established that she cares ab this."
Well, that's because that's passive engagement, just because the dialogue says it doesn't mean it actually happens, so watch the show, watch to see if what you're watching and what you're hearing match.
You might not notice it right away but a few episodes or a whole season goes by, if you pay attention to what the characters actually do then if you have a conversation about Elena's personality, you can be like well from what I have seen does she actually do what she says?
Like, you just have to pay attention.
For me specifically, I'm a writer, I'm in the business of building and creating and developing characters and dynamics and relationships so it comes naturally to me to just watch out for these things, it just feels like a natural part of the viewing experience.
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quickspinner · 2 years
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(you don't have to post this, I know you try to keep things pretty salt-light here) I mean, I'm sure everyone who uses any sort of good reasoning for Luka to not tell Marinette don't really mean it. They have to come up with various reasons because Luka (canonically) has never had a bad one for doing anything for/to Marinette. We all know that the writers want to keep him away from her and they just want someone to help the LS even more. The writers basically admitted that "now he can help both"
This inspired a whole rumination on the nature of salt and my feelings about it that I’m actually going to put in another post. 😂 When I do, please don’t feel guilty about it dear anon, it’s not your fault. 
Anyway just for reference, for new readers or anyone who needs to know, it's not because I’m anti-salt or have anything against salt or because I disagree with salt takes or don't want salt on my blog at all, I just find that too much of it gets depressing for my chemically-imbalanced brain and kills my enthusiasm and ability to create, so I try to keep things a little lighter for my own sanity. 
That being said, let’s engage in a little literary criticism. 😁
I agree with you anon, I think a lot of people had that same confused, stomach-dropping moment I did and had to work backward to get to a place where that would be a reasonable decision, just based on the reactions I saw and the people I talked to when the ep first came out.
However if there ARE people who think that it was the right decision, either immediately or after thinking it through, that's okay, I think that's valid (and I think it is very likely those people exist simply because humans are so wonderfully different). I could see Luka being on a knife's edge there, trying to make the best choice under the circumstances, and I don't think it's totally implausible that it would play out the way it did. One might even say that the message she sends him in Ephemeral indicates that deep down Mari knows Luka knows and that maybe she even wanted him to lie to her, which being as intuitive as he is, he understood and compromised his deeply held beliefs and preference for direct sincere communication to do what she wanted. If he did make that decision, I can see him doing it that way--bold as brass, look her square in the eye and lie to her face. He could have prevaricated or just not really given an answer but he straight up, flat out lied. All or nothing is pretty in keeping with the way I see him, and I saw it a little bit as Luka's way of absolving her for lying to him by willingly--I don't want to say coming down to her level because that implies more judgement than I want, but sorta like that. So if Luka decided to throw all his beliefs to the wind, I suppose that is a good way to go? I think he can do that with good intentions? It could even make for some interesting conflicts for him later if they ever gave him more than three minutes of screen time. (see, now that was salt)
I do think that protecting Mari's sanity and/or saving her from having to make a difficult decision is the only explanation in line with his character, so given what happened, if I were going to write a canon compliant fic, I would absolutely go with that. 
For me personally though--hmm how do I put this. Character is very intuitive for me? While I can, with some effort, pick apart why I think a character would act a certain way, it starts as a gut feeling. So when that moment happened, it felt like when you expect a car to go left and it turns right instead, and you feel for a moment like your stomach kept going the direction you were expecting to go. To me, that was an indicator that this moment is “wrong” for how I see the character. Which sounds kind of arrogant to say in writing, but eh, it’s the way I feel. 
And you know, that’s fine when it's one moment. It happens sometimes, that someone sacrifices character authenticity to further the plot, and while lazy, it’s not earth shattering. What worries me about it, and about Wishmaker in general, is that I'm worried about it being a pivot in how they're going to portray his character from now on rather than being one out of character moment. Luka was overall pushier in that episode than he's ever been, and while it wasn't a lot taken by itself, it's a significant shift from "you should go talk to him" to taking her hand and pulling her, however gently, into a conversation with Adrien. Much like you can say Alya was out of character in a few episodes of season 3, but then you see them triple-down on this version of her character in the specials and season four, and now she’s straight up a bad friend. How many times can you make a character out of character before it becomes their character? Luka’s actions in that moment are just close enough to being in character to be a reasonable shift IF they plan to follow it up with him, as you say, “helping them both.” So, really, Wishmaker was the episode that really made me feel upset, because I had previously assumed, especially given how little they ever give Luka to do or say in the show (let’s remember that his glory episodes were Silencer, where he was akumatized as a villain who couldn’t use his own voice for the majority of his screentime and where a good bit of the time out of that was taken up by a silent montage, and Desperada, where 90% of the episode was Adrien, and the breakup episode, of which he got to be normal for maybe half), that they would write him out (travel the world with Jagged, etc) or just quietly ignore him/let him fade out. While I fully believe he would support Mari through the lovesquare getting together, I really don’t want to watch him do it, especially if they have him start pushing rather than just supporting. No thank you. 
I also keep struggling with saying this because it sounds like I think being a luthier is boring or “lesser” and as a committed maker myself I absolutely respect the passion and skill it takes to make anything, let alone things as complicated as an instrument, but something about the timing and the way they made Luka want to be a career luthier made me feel like it was an attempt to...deglamorize him? Like, having him be an aspiring rock star (which, I’ll grant you, was never really stated for sure) was too much competition for Adrien so part of their attempt to tone him down as a love rival was to make him less compatible with Marinette’s ambitions, you know? It would have been different if we had ever seen Luka tinkering with guitars in the past, or fixing things, or having pieces of instruments or tools out in his room, but everything they’ve ever shown has pointed more for him being a performer on one scale or another, so just declaring it out of the blue seems like a cheap tactic to me. Which is annoying because I’ve always loved the idea of Luka getting into making guitars as a hobby/self-maintenance/off shoot of his passion/side gig kind of thing (see Luka refinishing his guitar in Finding Harmony), and now I’m aggravated when I think about it. 
So, yes, all of that was a long-winded way to say I agree with you, it definitely feels to me like they broke character there because they’re trying to transition him out of the love rival position, and I’m not excited for where they’re going to take it from here. 
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hawkeyedflame · 3 years
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Okay! This is all from memory so forgive me if I've forgotten something.
Starting with Roy: while I still maintain that he's a himbo, I think he's more complicated than I initially gave him credit for. When I sent the previous essay I was fully expecting him to go from this morally gray Dirty Harry style government figure to the white knight hero who saves the day and becomes a saint, but he maintained his moral ambiguity, which i REALLY appreciate in a character. A common theme throughout the show is being haunted by your past, and Roy is no exception, while he might have justified his actions at the time with the guise of doing his duty and patriotism he always knew what he did was wrong, and this ate away at him more and more as time went on. And to find out the atrocities you committed were not justified, but in fact utterly evil? Devastating. That's why I think the confrontation with Envy is so powerful, not only did Envy start the war, but they also killed Roy's best friend, and this truly set Roy off the rails. Perhaps he thought that by destroying Envy he could somehow vindicate himself. But that's not true, if Roy lost himself down in the tunnels he would only have spiraled downwards out of control, and it took a guiding hand to bring him back from the edge.
Speaking of, Riza! When I first spoke of her I Thought she was just a cool lady with guns, now I see that she's more than just a cool lady with guns, she's another example of a broken individual just trying to do the right thing. I think she's had a hard life, I can't imagine growing up with an alchemist father was easy, especially when his subject of choice was so dangerous, but then to have said dangerous work permanently marked on her own skin and told to keep it secret is tragic. It must have taken so long to precisely tattoo on her, and longer yet for Roy to study it. She must've trusted him enough to allow him to study it, so I imagine her thinking "did I make a big mistake?" upon seeing Roy use flame alchemy during the war. Speaking of the war, Riza appeared to be very young when she was involved, which is also tragic. It's like she had her youth and Innocence ripped away by forces she couldn't control. And while Roy might have had a higher body count, Riza was a sniper which meant she had a more...intimate relationship with the atrocities she committed. This is reflected in the scene where she buried a person she killed and asked Roy to disfigure her back to rid the world of her father's burden. She felt it was her mistake. Another very powerful, defining scene. Her father's work, the war, that moment, all stuck with her for the years after. Changed her. She clearly became very close with Roy during the war and they decided that they had to stick by one another.
To touch on their relationship very briefly, I honestly don't have the words to describe how just PERFECT their relationship is tbh. Like, their relationship inspired me to alter how I portray the relationship between two of my own characters, so that should tell you how much I like them. The dynamic is just great!
anon i love you, but you understand that himbos are like.. dumb and nice, right? roy is pretty much a genius and like.. he's not very nice, despite being a good person. i concede that, at times, he absolutely radiates himbo energy, but he is NOT a himbo. i will throw hands with you on this hill.
also, yes i completely agree that i prefer he was not relegated to a boring white knight. he is much more interesting as a man seeking redemption than a man absolved of his past. the confrontation with envy is easily the most impactful moment of any piece of media i've ever engaged with, personally. the life-and-death stakes of that moment were so unconventional compared to life-and-death in other stories. in most stories, the danger of death is coming from the opponent the hero is fighting. you're on the edge of your seat because you don't know if your protag is going to dodge the attacks, find the opening to strike, and be able to finish the job. but roy has already won. he has overpowered envy with very little effort and reduced him to his weakest and most helpless state. the danger is not from his opponent here. in this moment, the greatest threat to roy's life is his own hatred. we don't want him to finish the job; it would mean his own undoing if he did. we ache for the pain that he is in, but we also know deep down that riza is right, that what he is about to do will bring him to a place where nobody, not even she, can reach him. and it hurts so badly, because what brought roy to such unbelievable hatred is the unmitigated intensity of his love. because we all love. and to see such love turn into such hate is to see a crossroads in our own souls, the choice between hatred and grief. i am certain that choosing grief is the more difficult path, and i cannot imagine the state of his heart and soul in that moment.
as for riza.. god.. she fucking kills me, man. it's not in the anime, but in the manga when she tells edward about ishval, she tells him that she was brought to the front lines when she was in her final year of the academy. so she was about 20, maybe 21, when she was taking part in a genocide. as a cadet. the unfortunate thing about it is that she didn't actually have her innocence quite ripped away without her control, not as she sees it at least. she maintains that she made the decision on her own to join the military, and she knew she would have to kill people. she says she has no right to see it as a burden. i think this is partially because of her own body count, but also because she feels responsible for every single ishvalan who died at roy's hand. i cannot imagine her feelings when she first sees roy there. in the manga, she actually saves him and hughes from an ishvalan assailant, and then hughes brings roy to meet his savior, and that's how they reunite. it is not clear whether riza was aware of roy's presence on the front lines via rumors, or if that moment where she rescued him was the first time she knew of his being there. either way, it's fucking tragic to realize that the boy you trusted because he told you of his naïve dreams for the future turned out to be using the powers you've given him to kill thousands of innocent people. even after she speaks with him, finds out he feels the same way she does about the war.. i simply cannot fathom the war inside of her over how she feels about him throughout the war. i have to wonder if him agreeing to burn her tattoo off was what convinced her that she could still trust him. and then she goes on to stay in the military, at his side, in spite of everything she went through and knowing there will be more to come. she bears this guilt by his side; even though she could have walked away, she would not have found rest in a civilian life, not after everything she did, the things she facilitated. she tells roy, in the manga when she reports to his office after graduating from the academy, that she likes guns because she doesn't have to feel her victims die. roy tells her this is nothing more than self deception, and she tells him she knows, and that she will continue to deceive herself for his sake, so that he can reach his goals.
and their relationship....god. i could cry. i have never loved a fictional relationship with anywhere even approaching the intensity of my love for royai. it's just so... fucking good ksjdfhgjksdhfksud like... god. the tenderness, the trust.. the fact that they literally have already been through hell and would go there again for one another willingly. the absolute dedication. the fact that they know each other so well, when riza hesitates for only a fraction of a moment, roy knows immediately that something is terribly wrong. all the little looks they give each other. god. just. GOD. damn it. i love their love so much.
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quoteablebooks · 3 years
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Genre: Young Adult, Mystery, Contemporary, Fiction 
Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
Summary:
As a biracial, unenrolled tribal member and the product of a scandal, eighteen-year-old Daunis Fontaine has never quite fit in, both in her hometown and on the nearby Ojibwe reservation. Daunis dreams of studying medicine, but when her family is struck by tragedy, she puts her future on hold to care for her fragile mother. The only bright spot is meeting Jamie, the charming new recruit on her brother Levi’s hockey team. Yet even as Daunis falls for Jamie, certain details don’t add up and she senses the dashing hockey star is hiding something. Everything comes to light when Daunis witnesses a shocking murder, thrusting her into the heart of a criminal investigation. Reluctantly, Daunis agrees to go undercover, but secretly pursues her own investigation, tracking down the criminals with her knowledge of chemistry and traditional medicine. But the deceptions—and deaths—keep piling up and soon the threat strikes too close to home. Now, Daunis must learn what it means to be a strong Anishinaabe kwe (Ojibwe woman) and how far she'll go to protect her community, even if it tears apart the only world she’s ever known.
*Opinions*
I always approach books that everyone else loves with some trepidation because I am worried that all the hype will color my view of the book. My goal is always to go into a book without any expectations, but when books become popular or at least talked about, that is impossible, which is why I didn’t read this book right away. However, I have been attempting to diversify my reading (I’ll be the first to admit that I read mostly white authors writing about white characters) so when I saw this book at my local bookstore after hearing glowing reviews, I had to pick it up. Needless to say, all that praise is well deserved and this is one of the most engaging and wonderful books I have read in a long time and the best book I have read so far this year. The Firekeeper’s Daughter follows Daunis Fontaine who is at a crossroads at many paths in her life. She is about to start college with her best friend while balancing staying close to home to help her mother and dealing with her grandmother’s illness and uncle’s recent death. However, all of that is turned on its head when Jaime Johnston moves into town and joins her brother Levi’s hockey team, which starts to blur the lines between Daunis’s Hockey Life and Regular Life. When tragedy strikes Daunis realizes that she can only rely on herself and her community because nothing else makes sense anymore. She also becomes determined to help stop tragedy from visiting the Ojibwe again. There is so much I love about this novel, but the first thing that needs to be addressed is that this is not a novel for the faint of heart. Trigger warnings include: death, overdose, drug use, abduction, illness, suicide and murder on the page, underage drinking, and sexual assault on the page. Boulley does not pull any punches and paints a picture of everything that is good and bad that comes into Daunis’s life and both of her families and communities. However, Boulley does it in a way that never loses sight of the people that are connected to Daunis, no matter what choices they make. It is one of the things that makes this book so wonderful, good or bad, every character is well-rounded and there are parts of them that make you ache, aside from one character who is horrible from the start. No matter what they do, Daunis finds the reason and while that does not absolve them from their sins, it helps her forgive them for herself and let go of her pain with help. This leads into one of the most beautiful and compelling parts of the novel, the glimpse that Boulley provides to the reader about Ojibwe and Anishinaabe culture. I will be the first to admit that I am horribly uneducated about Indigenous cultures both in America and around the world, but the reverence and connection that Daunis feels to the Ojibwe and their teachings provide really resonates throughout the novel. This is highlighted by her struggle to be accepted by some of those who do not see her as part of the community because her mother is white as well as her reckoning with the fact that some parts of the Ojibwe tribe are not all parts that she wants to be apart of. I would say that this novel, more than a mystery, is about Daunis and her journey will the Ojibwe to find where she belongs and what that means to her. Boulley is also really good at conveying feeling through her writing. Whether it is the peace that Daunis feels during her morning prayer, the excitement during the powwow or the absolute devastation in the deaths that happen around her, the reader feels with Daunis at all of these times. It has been a long time since I’ve been this anxious while reading a novel, but the last 20% of this novel had me severely stressed. Boulley’s novel is rooted in reality in which no one is safe and Daunis experiences so much heartache and loss so many times that you are not sure whether it will happen again. Yet, it never seems melodramatic and every character’s action makes sense given what we have seen throughout the novel. I cheered, cried, and paced while reading this novel and I loved every minute of it. The only part of the novel that kind of took me out of the story for a moment was the fact that law enforcement would let an 18-year-old confidential informant learn to make meth. I can see the FBI using a teenager as a CI, especially given that it is young people who keep dying from overdoses that the FBI believes is somehow related to the hockey team and Daunis is connected to all these parts of the puzzle. However, the fact that they would send her to learn to make meth just seemed a little odd. I am sure that Boulley did her research so this might be something that happens, but I would think that the FBI would want as few people as possible knowing how to make meth. Then again, law enforcement rarely does things that make sense to anyone but them. Another part that didn’t seem to make sense to me was the sexual assault, but in the last couple chapters of the book, it became clear why Boulley included it and the injustice that Native women endure again and again. Boulley addresses this in her Afterward, which I suggest you read if you skipped over it like I usually do. The mystery element of the novel is very slow-moving and almost secondary to Daunis attempting to reckon with everything that is happening in her life and who she is. While it is the main thread pulling Daunis along, there will be many pages where she is just hanging out with the Elders or helping her mother. As a testament to Boulley’s writing, these parts of the novel are not at all boring and in the end are a big part of Daunis’s story as well as survival. That is what this novel is, a story of survival and hope, with a bit of mystery thrown in. Still, I appreciated that Daunis approaches the mystery in a realistic way, she isn’t a superhero but she is smart and powerful in her own right. Boulley also gives her the ability to be scared and wrong and angry. Daunis breathes on the page and I will remember her and her story for a long time. This book captured me and never let me go. The characters, the setting, the culture, the mystery, there isn’t anything that I didn’t like. It was real and raw and heartbreaking and hopeful. While this will not be a story for everyone, given the triggers, I think it is a good way to help non-native readers thinking about their own prejudice as well as making them think about each person’s story and not just their actions. Everyone has a story if you are willing to take the time to listen. Danuis’s story is one that I think everyone can take something from and has easily become one of my favorite books.
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It might be controversial, but I think there's a miscommunication between Lucien and basically everyone. I don't think the "you can just leave if you want" thing was meant to be gaslighting. Obviously with everything there are conditions. I think it was meant to be "if you go home and leave the threshold crest you can go". But because we know the M9 have no intent of doing that and if they left they'd just keep going to the same place. Lucien doesn't want them going there before him, but if they actually left he'd be fine. Obviously I could be wrong, or I could be misinterpreting it, but I think it's something to consider.
This ask was received before the airing of 2.122: Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained, so I’m sticking to talking about 2.121: Ice and Fire and previous. Not that 122 changed my stance at all.
I have to disagree, both because that doesn’t address the crux of why I think that moment is gaslighting and it also doesn’t address that when I say that I believe is Lucien gaslighting them, it’s much more broad than “I’m not keeping you from bolting.” It’s also very much in how Lucien keeps turning the situation around to frame it as if it’s the Nein who are responsible for the situation they find themselves in, especially in how it keeps being framed that it’s their fault there’s no freedom of trust here. For me, it’s more about what feels like constant attempts to turn around their perception about what the situation really is and try to make them shoulder the blame for what goes wrong for them instead.
Frankly, it’s irrelevant to me whether or not he means “you can leave whenever you want—so long as you turn over the crest and leave Eiselcross” because crux of the point is: he says he has not and is not preventing them from leaving. This is demonstrably false. He hampered their ability to walk away when he interrupted their long rest, he stopped them from leaving at first sign of danger, and putting stipulations and conditions on them leaving is indeed a form of preventing them from leaving. To me, him saying that seems to be to sow the seeds of doubt that he is being hostile to them, that he’s actually being quite gracious when he’s not.
As a note, if the Nein attempt to bolt in the future and Lucien lets them go, it won’t change my view of this particular line because they’re separate instances of behavior. The point is that historically, Lucien HAS prevented them from leaving at their leisure, more than once, then he directly states to them that he’s done no such thing. In this specific moment, he’s engaged in a blatant denial of his own behavior and pushed a line that did not match up with his actions.
And, most importantly, when I say that I believe is Lucien gaslighting them, that encompasses more than his remark about preventing them from bolting.
Outside of “I’m not keeping you from bolting,” the way that Lucien weaves a narrative that the Nein are the ones who are responding inappropriately to him is also, in my view, consistent with gaslighting. On top of that, Lucien engages in a lot of minimizing of his own behavior, trying to cast it as entirely and wholly reasonable—diminishing his veiled hostility and control of the situation down to a mild “I’m just careful” and “I have reason to mistrust” as if he’s simply responding and bears no primary responsibility for the situation.
There is a constant circling back to framing it as if it’s the Nein’s fault certain things are happening, that the Nein are the ones refusing there to be trust in this relationship, that the Nein are not making fair effort here, that the Nein are the ones instigating. Just as two examples from the Tower scene in 2.121: Ice and Fire:
CALEB: How can I help you? LUCIEN: I was just curious as to where this strange portal led. CALEB: This is my house. We are going to have a comfortable night before trudging through the bleak frozen north tomorrow. LUCIEN: Ah. Didn't mention you had a home before. CALEB: Have you told us everything? LUCIEN: No, but you've told me so little.
[ Caleb, audibly annoyed, makes an offer to allow the Takers to stay in the Tower tomorrow night to better facilitate working together. ] LUCIEN: See now, that there would have been a great way to start the night's conversation.
The fact that the dynamic keeps circling back around to the responsibility for the civility of the relationship falling on the Nein and that Lucien is simply responding to them acting as if he hasn’t done anything to invite hostility, mistrust, and guarded behavior. Which, simply is not true. Lucien absolves himself of responsibility for a situation he entirely created and is trying to convince the Nein that they’re the ones responsible for these things happening because they’re not trusting enough and they’re too hostile.
Again, there seems to be an intent to make the Nein doubt their own perception of the situation and convince them that he is correct, that he has been quite patient and gracious with them and that what’s happening is rooted in their lack of willingness to trust him.
And that’s gaslighting. Turning around the victims’ beliefs about what the situation really is and trying to force them to shoulder the blame instead: the constant reframing of the situation that the Nein are the ones who need to be responsible for cultivating trust here and that they’re the ones who somehow instigated it every time he consciously sets something awry for them.
And before anyone says that the Nein did start this off with hostility, Lucien is trying to unleash an all-consuming eldritch force onto the Material Plane. He’s killed people who were in his way and used their deaths to set up an intimidating tableau. He implicitly threatened to kill the Nein should they not do as he wanted. I’d say he gave them more than enough reason to be hostile.
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felidaefighter · 3 years
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Keeping Promises To His Reflection
Sequel to Love You To The Point Of Violence; AKA Sapnap keeps his promise to Quackity and, by proxy, Dream
[cw: angst, character death]
It had been a long time since Sapnap had properly hunted anyone. It was invigorating, in a way, and almost reminded him of the good old days he’d spent sparring with Dream and George. Almost. Now, though, the fire that had initially fueled his passion and love burned with rage and resentment and spread into his sword, which sparked and flickered with heat and Flame. He was burning from the inside out in every way, and he intended to share this feeling with the unlucky person he was hunting via his blade.
Sapnap walked with the heavy, certain footsteps of the soldier he once was-- and in all honesty, still was-- forward, deliberate, and imbued with intent. He had never been known for mercy-- didn’t have any sort of track record for it in any of his wars-- but that didn’t mean he couldn’t love. Just meant he was careful with his love and loyal to his core. That loyalty came with the toll he was here to collect. The flames from his sword cast deep shadows from the spruce around him, and his eyes flickered through the trees, hoping to catch someone moving with the shadows.
“There’s no use in hiding,” Sapnap called in a sing-song voice that did little to mask his feelings, “And you can’t outrun me. If you have a horse I’ll just bow it down. I mean, you know me.” With a steadying exhale that immediately had Sapnap turning towards him, Quackity stepped out of the shadows. “Can we talk about this? I just want to talk. We can just talk, right?” Sapnap sighed, stepping towards his ex-fiance. “I mean... I don’t want to lie to you, Quackity.” Two strong-willed individuals staring eachother down. It would’ve been quite a sight, in any other circumstance. But only one of them was wearing netherite.
Standing less than a hair’s length away from one another, the two men could argue that the tension between them was solely a face-off of powerful people; but it would be a lie if they never acknowledged just how much of it came from their history. They could pretend, if they wanted, that their skin didn’t itch with the memory of embrace that would only burn with bitterness if they acted on nostalgia. Instead, Sapnap’s eyes bored into Quackity’s own, a relentless gaze that wouldn’t yield no matter the silver of Quackity’s tongue.
Sapnap still ached, in no small part, to run his rough and calloused warrior’s hand over the scar on Quackity’s face as he discussed it, but he couldn’t, not anymore. “I talked to Tubbo about the butcher army he ran,” Sapnap explained-- Quackity looked quizzical, having not yet figured out where he was leading. “Or rather, the butcher army you ran. It was your idea, your ‘hitlist’. And Dream was on there too.” Now Quackity knew. Despite the space between them, Sapnap could still feel Quackity’s breath hitch and heart race just a little faster. Creating a defense that both of them knew Sapnap wouldn’t buy.
“Sapnap, Tubbo was the president. He really said that to you? He’s just trying to absolve himself of any guilt so you don’t attack him! That should be obvious to you.” The resentment Sapnap felt that was still burning within him. Mostly, towards himself. “Is it really second nature for you to lie like that now? What happened to you Quackity?” He thought that having his brother be the prime example of where it all went wrong would make it easier to spot in anyone else, but apparently, it just made him less willing to acknowledge it in someone he loved. Fool me once type beat. More than anything, he felt used. He had been a soldier for Quackity and Dream both. He had been loyal to Quackity and Dream both.
Coals still burn white-hot and deadly long after the flames are gone, and that was more akin to what Sapnap was feeling than a heartache. He thought he had known Dream, until it became apparent that they had drifted so much farther apart than he’d realized, and it was no longer the truth. He had thought he’d known Quackity, too. But now, it was safe to say he had never known Quackity at all. That didn’t stop the embers of his love. Didn’t stop his loyalty. Didn’t-- Sapnap’s resolve and gaze hardened-- stop him from intending to keep his promise.
And Quackity, ever so smart, was beginning to realize the situation he had put himself in. Here in front of him stood a renowned warrior, an ex-lover, and someone whom he had betrayed the trust of-- with a fire in his heart, a sword in his hand, and little more than Quackity to lose. The open woods didn’t stop him from feeling cornered. The light coming from Sapnap did not quell his fears, as his ease nowadays came from the silence and lack of witness that was offered by the dark. Sapnap spoke, and Quackity bit his tongue to keep quiet, feeling blood like liquid silver from his mouth and run like poison down his throat.
“Y’know, I was angry at Dream for betraying George and I back when we were trying to get El Rapids up and running. I wanted to kill him. But I thought about it, and I realized something.” Quackity took a step back. Sapnap took a step forward. “You didn’t actually care. You saw George and I as an opportunity for you. Despite it all, Quackity, I still love Dream. And the only thing that hurts more than his betrayal right now is the fact that you used that for your own means.” There was too much irony in it all, and Sapnap was sick of it.
Quackity wanted to ask Sapnap why he still loved Dream. Wanted to blame Dream for everything, call him a monster, tell Sapnap he did it all for him. But they were well past that. They’d had that conversation and Quackity would spare them the indignity of having it again. So instead, he took a good and proper look at Sapnap’s face. He expected Sapnap to look angry. Or disgusted. Hell, he’d even take “contempt”. What he got instead was so much worse, and apprehension rocketed through his core. Something buried in the shards of his heart shook loose, and after running ice through his veins it gave him wide eyes, terror, and the tiny, desperate flame of love that he hadn’t quite managed to snuff out.
‘I love you, I have always loved you, I still love you, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,’ written all over Sapnap’s face. A man who kept his promises to those he loved. The silver had bled out of Quackity’s words, and instead he was left with a quiet, desperate whisper, reminiscent of the man he used to be. “Sapnap, you’re not gonna kill me,” Quackity begged, and the man known being ruthless gently grabbed Quackity’s arm and stared into his eyes.
“You’ve hurt so many people,” Sapnap said, pained, his grip tightening slightly as Quackity attempted to shift away. “You’ve crossed too many lines. You’re worse than Dream ever was, and that’s saying something.” Quackity could feel the heat from the man’s skin, and it almost rivaled the temperature of the blade that was still radiating flames and forming something of a gate at the opposite side. “Sapnap, you know I’d never want to hurt you.” He tried appealing to the man’s romantic senses, tried pretending there was nothing left of his own. “All of this was only ever about what you wanted. You hurt Karl and I. You betrayed our trust.”
So close now, Quackity could almost forget he was afraid. There was no point in backing up. The silver had been drained from his tongue; his only true claim to power. He had no horses in the race anymore. No more cards to put on the table and no ace up his sleeve. Just the love of the man who was keeping him from running away. “You’re not gonna kill me,” he tried again, and Sapnap looked sorry for him. Not in a way that meant pity, though. That was good. Pity was something Quackity loathed.
“Quackity, you can still trust me. I made you a promise.” And it hurts,  for Quackity, that he shares a promise with Dream. He feels regret stab through his heart, feels the heat of his true emotions and the blood soak into his shirt and the burn of his feelings and the blade that slides through him like he was no more than fragile glass. Quackity is burning. Anger and resentment, love and passion, regret for the things he couldn’t do. Regret for the things he did-- maybe. Not really, if he’s being honest. He coughs up blood as Sapnap holds him, steady as always.
He pulls his sword out of Quackity’s chest and smoke pours out of the wound as freely as blood. It smells terrible, of course, but neither of them have the mind to point that out. Quackity’s lungs feel charred and wet at the same time. He speaks in a broken voice. “I’m pissed about this,” he confesses, “But I’m glad that after everything, I can still trust you. You never let me down when you make a promise.” They crouch down, though for Quackity it’s more like collapsing. Sapnap is still holding onto him, keeping him upright, and Quackity finds himself holding onto Sapnap right back. He tells himself he has no attachments. He’s too good at lying now; he can even do it to himself.
The ashes of their relationship make no phoenix. There is no rebirth in this, no reconciliation. There on the needle bedding of pine there is only a man who went too far and a man who keeps his promises. Neither is free of sin, but neither do they feel regret. Do what has to be done, and love enough to see it through. It’s too hot on the smoldering earth for tears to stay, if there were any at all. Quackity exhales smoke and doesn’t inhale again after that. Sapnap sees two faces in the lifeless eyes, neither of which he could save-- except for this one, only in death.
Karl won’t understand. He doesn’t have to. He only needs to accept and move on. The man he thought he loved-- the man they both thought they loved-- should have been mourned when he truly died, long before their engagement. Sapnap absently touches his ring finger, before letting out a furious scream of anguish and burying his sword in the earth in an act more primal than he would let himself feel earlier. Flames eat at the forest bedding and flicker around him and the body he holds, but Sapnap knows fire and if he’s honest, he doesn’t care about anything else right now. Let the forest burn-- he’s done worse. The man born from fire takes his former lover home.
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be11atrixthestrange · 3 years
Text
Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 12
After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.
Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.
Rated M for reasons.
Ao3 | FFN
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[Hermione]
It takes all of Hermione's effort to maintain focus. Her wandering mind threatens to suck her in like quicksand, taunting her with the recent memory of her perfect morning in bed with Ron. She can still feel Ron's legs tangled up with hers, swimming together in the luxurious satin sheets. The way his hands explored her body, tracing every curve with both firm confidence and tenderness, leaving a trail of goosebumps that reappear now. The faint smell of his cologne clings to her skin, leftover from when he pinned her to the bed, and remembering the taste of spearmint and coffee as he kissed her makes her mouth water. She wants more.
Ron's casual demeanor of the present moment isn't helping. She watches him down the line, deep in conversation with Seamus and Dean. His whole face lights up as he laughs at a joke Seamus just told. When he speaks, he uses his entire body; his eyes glow with enthusiasm, and his hands punctuate his every word. Unlike Hermione, he doesn't seem acutely aware of what he's doing with his arms, how he's standing, or whether he looks natural. He makes looking normal seem so easy.
Be cool, Hermione.
Any hope of emulating his calm confidence shatters when he catches her eye and winks. Her cheeks burn, her heart drums against her chest, and butterflies erupt in her stomach.
Or not.
The group is waiting patiently for their turn to enter The Slug Club, which can only be defined as a combination of a nightclub, theme park, and a casino. Hermione and Ron landed on this location for Harry and Ginny's joint hen and stag party for its all-in-one benefits. Less time wasted traveling between multiple venues means more time to kick back and relax, while eliminating the risk of losing someone during transitions.
Ginny jolts Hermione back to the present when she sidles up next to her and flings an arm around her shoulder. "So, where'd you sleep last night?"
Panic sets in as Hermione glances at her friend — Ginny's wearing a smug, knowing expression. She decides to play dumb. "What do you mean, Ginny?"
"C'mon, you weren't in your room. I came by to check on you! Did you spend the night with that guy from the bar?" Her eyebrows raise suggestively as she awaits an answer.
Hermione isn't sure how to respond. She's not keen on Ginny knowing about her and Ron yet, but she's even less keen on lying and saying she was with Cormac what's-his-name, but she'd have to pick one…
"Um—" she stalls, before someone interrupts her.
"She was with me." Lavender appears on Hermione's other side and smiles at Ginny. "Turns out that guy from the bar was the worst, so we went to my room so he wouldn't know where she was sleeping."
Hermione releases an audible sigh of relief, which Ginny mistakes as disgust.
"Ugh, I hate men," she says. "Except Harry, of course."
"Yeah. Men are the worst," says Lavender, and Hermione watches her gaze shift momentarily toward Ron and the boys.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," says Ginny. "All you wanted was a fun night out, and for some bloke to try and take advantage of you? I should have stuck by your side."
Feeling guilty, Hermione waves off her condolences — she had a great night last night, and wishes she didn't have to lie to Ginny. But alas, 'I shagged your brother!' isn't what most brides want to hear from a bridesmaid at their hen party.
The doors to The Slug Club open, and the bouncer waves them through, which absolves Hermione of the need to change the subject. Perfect timing.
Ginny skips toward the door to meet up with Harry, and Hermione turns to Lavender.
"Thanks for covering for me. I appreciate it."
Lavender nods but doesn't smile. "No problem. And for the record, I don't want details."
"Wasn't going to offer any," she returns, glancing at Lavender to discover she's watching the doorway, where Ron is passing through. He's still laughing and joking with the boys, and his eyes are bright and elated.
Looking back at Lavender brings a pang of sympathy. It's obvious by her expression that her mind is working a mile-a-minute to process the bittersweet emotion of seeing him so happy. Ron's laughter is contagious enough to bring a smile to Lavender's face, but it doesn't reflect in her eyes. Maybe it would if it had been her, not Hermione, that made Ron feel that way.
"Are you okay?" asks Hermione, even though she already knows the answer.
"Yes," says Lavender, meeting Hermione's gaze. They share a look of understanding, silently agreeing not to call out her lie. "Just don't hurt him."
Hermione looks back to Ron, catching his smiling face once more before he disappears into The Slug Club. She knows that neither of them can promise not to hurt the other, but something in her gut tells her that won't be the case.
Passing through the doors feels like entering a different world entirely. The venue appears much bigger on the inside than the outside suggested. She scans the room, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activities within reach. On one end, there's a dance floor, a glistening swimming pool, and a casino guarded by a fake willow tree. On the other end, there's a karaoke bar, a series of thrill rides that shouldn't fit inside the space and an elaborate miniature golf course made to look like a hedge maze. On closer inspection, it appears that each obstacle is guarded by a mythical creature — partiers laugh and point their clubs at talking sphinxes, dragons, and merpeople.
"Hey beautiful," Ron whispers in her ear, and his sudden appearance causes Hermione to jump.
"Hey," she croaks back; her voice catches in her throat, but the familiarity of his cologne soothes her rising heart rate. "I should start the tab."
"You're cute when you're flustered," he says, smirking.
Her cheeks heat up, and Ron chuckles with amusement. Hermione glances around to check if they've caught the attention of anyone in their party, but it seems like the grandiosity of The Slug Club is the perfect distraction. They've decided to keep the details of their relationship quiet for now, so as to not draw focus away from Harry and Ginny, but the way Hermione's body reacts to everything Ron says or does today might prove that difficult.
"Yes. The tab," says Hermione, feeling the weight of her wallet in her purse. She'd agreed to cover the bar tab for Ginny's party, but that doesn't mean she's ready to hand over her credit card to a stranger tending the bar, and let the coins fall where they may. She feels a little better when she lays her eyes on a familiar face at the bar. "Rosmerta?"
The blonde bartender smiles at Hermione. "Hey there!"
"You work here too?"
"Yes ma'am," she says, "and, please tell me you ditched that asshat from last night."
Hermione laughs, thankful that Rosmerta doesn't harbor any hard feelings toward her based on Cormac's behavior the night before. "Don't worry, he's long gone."
"Good. Ginger's better looking anyway."
"I agree," says Hermione, chancing a look at Ron. His ears turn pink, and Hermione hopes she hasn't embarrassed him.
"Would you two like something to drink?" asks Rosmerta.
"Actually, I'd like to start a tab," says Hermione.
"Under what name?"
"Harry and Ginny. It's for their entire wedding party," she says, wincing as she hands over her credit card.
"That's very generous of you," says Rosmerta. Tugging Hermione's card from her resisting fingers requires a little extra force.
Observing the interaction, Ron fishes into his pocket for his wallet.
"Can you split the tabs over two cards?" he asks, sliding his credit card across the bar to Rosmerta.
Hermione turns to him to protest. "You don't have to—"
"I want to!" he interrupts.
"I budgeted for this night," says Hermione.
"And have you seen how much these boys can drink? Let me split it with you."
The look in his eye tells Hermione there's no point in arguing with him, and she doesn't want to insult his pride. "Fine."
"Thank you, Rosmerta," says Ron.
"You're very welcome, handsome!"
Ron flushes at her comment but immediately directs his attention back to Hermione, flashing his adorably lopsided smile. Hearing another woman call him handsome, even non-threateningly, makes Hermione want to sidle up next to him and reach for his hand, something that would show the world he's hers. The fact that they agreed not to engage in any public displays of affection makes it all the more tempting.
Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione have also agreed to refrain from drinking tonight. It makes sense to have a few people thinking clearly in the group, just in case things get out of hand.
"Well, Hermione," asks Ron. "What should we do?"
Their friends seem to be drawn into the miniature golf course, and Harry, holding two clubs, waves them over.
"I guess that settles it," says Ron,
The walk toward the miniature golf course feels a mile long, especially in front of their friends. She knows that apart from Lavender, everyone's oblivious to their relationship, but their watchful eyes still feel like scrutiny. Once again, Hermione wonders how much distance there should be between two platonic friends walking together. The distracted chatter grows louder as they approach, which quiets her worries, and by the time they join, the group has already begun a round of golf, and is no longer paying them any attention.
"I bet you a drink that I can get a hole in one," says Ron, reaching for two putters. He hands one to her and casually bumps his shoulder against hers, sending a tingle down her spine. His confidence makes her nervous. Is she always this awkward?
"Didn't you want to stay sober tonight?" asks Hermione, silently hoping that he backtracks on their agreement. She could use the calming effect of a cocktail right now.
"Yep. But the drink can be any night."
"Deal," she says, taking the golf club from his extended hand, and knowing full well she'll probably be buying him, and herself, a drink later.
They follow behind the rest of the party, taking turns putting for the first few obstacles. Neither of them are any good, and they only get progressively worse as they continue further into the course. Someone's always heading back to the bar to replenish everyone's, save for Ron and Hermione's, drinks, and after a while, Hermione's too caught up watching everyone loosen up to think about the running tab.
Ron and Hermione continue to keep a safe distance apart, but as everyone else continues to drink, she questions how necessary it is. Harry and Ginny only have eyes for each other; Dean, Neville, and Seamus are in their own world, and Luna, Demelza and Lavender are quickly becoming too tipsy to pay any mind to Ron and Hermione, opting instead to try and attract the attention of a nearby group of men.
Everyone is equally terrible at miniature golf, but as time passes, and blood alcohol levels climb, Ron and Hermione start to look pretty good by comparison. The drunker everyone gets, the more affectionate they become, celebrating completed obstacles with high-fives, which turn into hugs, and then to kisses on cheeks. When Ginny jumps on Harry's back, Lavender and Demelza lock their arms around each other, and Dean picks up Seamus to carry him to the next hole, Hermione considers inching closer to Ron. No one would even notice, would they?
Hermione hits her next golf ball way off course, and it plunks down into a moat. Ron laughs.
"Wow, you're really terrible at this. Have you ever played before?"
She scoffs at him with mock indignation. "Hey!" she says, playfully punching him in the shoulder. "But no, I can't say I play much miniature golf."
"I guess I should show you how to swing," he says, taking a step closer to her. She scans for anyone's eyes on them.
"That's not really necessary," she says, and Ron grins at the suggestive tone of her voice.
"It's definitely not necessary."
She places another golf ball in the lane, and Ron positions himself behind her. He wraps his arms around her sides and grips her hands over the club. His hips press against her backside, and his body's instantaneous reaction suggests that keeping his distance from her is just as difficult for him too.
"So much for keeping our hands off each other," she whispers to him.
"No one's watching right now," he whispers back. "Plus, I'm just showing you how to hold a club. This is perfectly innocent."
Hermione presses her hips back against him, and he groans. Perfectly innocent.
"Is this right?" she asks.
"Fuck, yeah, it is."
Hermione can't help but laugh as Ron guides her club into a swing, then reluctantly pushes herself away from him. The longer they stay pressed together like that, the more likely they are to draw attention to themselves. He looks pained at first, but his expression turns smug when her golf ball sinks into the center hole on the first putt.
"Ha! You owe me a drink," he says.
"What are you talking about? That was my hit!" she argues back. "You owe me one."
"Okay," he says, smiling. "It's a win for me either way."
They lock eyes, and Hermione is tempted to give in and kiss him. His face is so close to hers, and would anyone really notice a short and sweet kiss?
Someone behind them clears their throat, and Hermione stiffens, only relaxing when she turns to see a couple she doesn't know. "Are you two almost done?"
"Erm, yeah. We are," says Ron hurriedly. "Sorry 'bout that." His face shines red, and they rush to clear the course.
Their friends seem to have disappeared, which nearly sends Hermione into a panic, but one glance around the club reveals they've just dispersed to their own activities. Seamus and Dean are now at the bar, Luna and Neville are off in a corner admiring an indoor garden, Ginny is cheering Harry on at one of the slot machines outside the casino, and Lavender and Demelza have taken to the stage for karaoke. Hermione smiles as the girls dance along to Beyonce's 'Single Ladies' — Lavender's enjoyment looks genuine, and it eases some of her dormant guilt for being with Ron.
Lavender and Demelza's voices grow quieter as Ron and Hermione approach the other side of the club, where the lights are darker, and a thick crowd is growing on a dance floor, bouncing to the music produced by an eccentrically-dressed DJ.
"Come and dance?" asks Ron, raising an eyebrow at her.
"In front of everyone? Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asks, but reaches for his outstretched hand anyway.
"The best idea," he says, tugging her toward the middle of the dance floor, where they'll be obscured from view. "It's just a dance. It's not like I'm asking for a snog." His voice lowers as he pulls her body close to his, and Hermione senses a touch of irony in his response. In a way, it sounds like he is asking for a snog.
"So as long as we don't snog, this is perfectly innocent?" To test the waters, she shifts closer, letting her lips brush against his neck as she speaks. His resulting shiver makes her smile.
"No, I guess not," he says. "But only because I won't be able to keep my hands off of you." As if to prove his point, his hands shift to her lower back, dangerously close to non-innocent territory.
"You're insatiable."
"I know."
Even though the music is quick and upbeat, Ron and Hermione remain intertwined on the dance floor, swaying slowly, almost daring each other not to kiss. Hermione's earlier anxiety about interacting with Ron while sober seems so far away — being with him feels natural, as if they've been together forever. It doesn't make sense; her feelings are too advanced, considering she barely knows him.
She thinks back to her very first sober interaction with him. She had just broken up with Viktor a few months prior, and her self-confidence was at an all-time low. When they met for coffee back in England to go over logistics for this trip, her immediate reaction was to push him away, and it was no surprise that she left with a negative impression. She wouldn't have wanted it any other way. That day, Hermione watched everything he did and picked apart everything he said, attempting to convince herself that he was insufferable because then it wouldn't matter if he thought the same thing about her.
From the beginning, she tried to sabotage this. It makes sense — in relationships, she has to weigh the benefit of even trying. She hates failing, and love isn't like academia, which comes easily to Hermione. If she needs better exam scores, she can work harder, practice more, and simply try again. But personal pursuits are different. She learned the hard way that second chances are rare, and first impressions are everything. People are unpredictable, and failure is personal. It's not like studying harder will make someone love her.
Maybe that's why she looks for the worst in people — because that's what she decides to show them first. If she doesn't try to attract a man, it won't hurt when she winds up alone. She can blame it on her lack of effort, rather than her personality, her looks, or anything else on her laundry list of personal shortcomings.
Just as tears sting her eyes, Ron's arms wrap more tightly around her body, and his lips press against her forehead. His embrace feels secure, protective, even loving. Her heart fills for him, and she's finally fully aware of how deep her emotions run. Somewhere in the mess of the last few days, her defenses melted away, and she fell hard for this man. Despite her efforts to push him away, she wound up married to him.
She's always had a lot of questions about love; how long does it take? What does it look like? Is it a noun or a verb, something she's supposed to feel, or just do? Maybe it's more simple than that. At the moment, all she knows is that if things fell apart now, she'd be devastated, and she'd kick herself for not trying harder. She can't imagine not trying at all.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks.
She winces at his question.
Ron pulls away to turn her face toward his. A look of concern crosses his eyes as he wipes a loose tear from her cheek. "Are you okay?"
Hermione nods and averts her eyes.
"I don't believe you," he says. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" His voice is calm and unwavering.
"Yeah, I know." Her grip around his neck loosens so her arms hang comfortably. She wants to see his full face.
"So, what's on your mind?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, "Wifey?"
And there it is again — a swarm of butterflies unleash in her stomach at his playful words, his goofy smile, and the genuine tender expression on his face.
Hermione's always been the analytical type, never doing anything without thinking through the consequences, or giving emotions more mind than logic. But this week has offered a reprieve from her cautious, methodical side. It would be easy to convince herself that Vegas-Hermione isn't really her, but that wouldn't feel honest. In Vegas, she's more honest than she's ever been.
She meets Ron's curious gaze with confidence. London-Hermione would probably run away right now, not daring to speak what's on her mind, instead choosing to sabotage it all. But, London-Hermione probably isn't qualified to give relationship advice.
And deep down, she knows how she feels about this man, even though the truth is completely insane. But so is marrying someone she just met, and that ship has already sailed. Now she has an opportunity to let him in fully; if she wants to.
Her heart is telling her to take a giant leap and go for it, but her mind…
Well, her mind is still in London.
"I'm probably mental for saying this," she begins, her voice soft and careful, "but I think I'm falling in love with you."
As soon as the words slip out, her heart starts pounding in her chest. She averts her eyes, unwilling to watch his reaction to her admission.
He doesn't respond right away, and every second that passes cuts like a dagger to her heart. What a stupid thing to say, she thinks, panicking. They've barely been together for twenty-four hours, and she's probably freaked him out.
Ron squeezes her arm, encouraging her to look him in the eye. She meets his ocean eyes with trepidation, and isn't sure how to feel when his ears are fiery red, and his expression is one of pure shock. He looks like a frozen computer, unable to process her confession.
Fuck. Her palms break out in sweat, her eyes well with tears, and her stomach sinks. She should have kept her mouth shut.
But then he beams at her. "Well, Hermione, you might be falling in love, but I jumped. Flung myself off that cliff. So, I guess that makes us both mental."
She has no words, but relief sweeps over her body, and she blinks the tears from her eyes. Ron pulls her into another embrace, and her head fits perfectly into the crook of his neck. He rests his chin on the top of her head, and for the next few moments, they're the only people in the room.
Did they really just say that to each other?
"Are you serious?" she asks, her voice muffled by his shirt.
"Yes. I'm serious."
She smiles from both elation, and the fact that they're definitely, completely mental. Who brings up love so soon? It's Barmy. Insane. Crazy.
But it's also Las Vegas, and if there's something Hermione's learned from her time in this town, it's that life is better with a little bit of crazy.
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bybdolan · 3 years
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do books count as pop culture bc if so I have a mildly spicy take
Sally Rooney's Conversations with Friends (and maybe Normal People too, I haven't read that one) and Naoise Dolan's Exciting Times have both been hailed as engaging, phenomenal works of fiction that really capture the millennial spirit or whatever and both, frankly, suck. Their detached, narcissistic, navel-gazing, nihilistic protagonists are so obsessed with their own sadness, so gleeful in the fact that they are ✨special bc they're depressed�� that it's embarrassing. Theres a cold take on every aspect of humanity, a disdainful view of everyone who chooses to live their lives in whatever way they see fit, all because they are not fascinated by how smart they are to be miserable. The main characters have a freakish love of the idea that sex is all about (and only about) power, which granted, is a journey plenty of young women go through but it's done in such a vapid and uncompelling way. They're nothing more than cowards who believe themselves to be better than real, physical violence so the protagonists carry out this low level of horrific use and abuse of their "love interests" and pity themselves for having to exercise or pursue that power. And it's not a lesson learned by the characters or a failure truly investigated by the novel or even an idea that is fully explored outside of it's mere existence in the story (and the protagonist's slavish devotion to it). The books do well because they commodify instability and package it in a way that is both wrapped in beautiful prose while completely void of introspection, character development, or any sort of self-consciousness. It's a resurgence, imo, of 80s brat pack fiction (which I swing back and forth on) except now they include multiple mentions to being aware of their privilege as though that absolves them of responsibility.
I wrote way too much but if I have to see someone praise either book again I'm gonna LOSE IT ok thank you for letting me rant
Mhhh I have not read both of these novels (I HAVE read Normal People though and enjoyed it a lot) so my thoughts may not be very refined. Based on my knowledge of NP I get what you are saying: The novel felt quite cold to me at times, and I was also taken aback by the depiction of sexuality (sex often is an interesting part of a novel – reading John Irving serves as a reminder :I). However, I think the things people cherish in a book or what they take away from it vary a lot; so while the things you critizise may still be there in the novels and are ultimately a turn-off for you, somebody else may focus on a different part of the story (for me personally the relationship at the core of NP moved me so much that I overlooked things I didn't like as much) or even love exactly the parts you hate because they are reflective of their own experiences or thoughts. Where it gets iffy are these claims of universal relatability where novels get put on a strange pedestal, and I 100% understand where your frustration comes from in that regard – reading something that feels focused on toxic ideas and seeing it get hailed as something reflecting the experience of a whole generation is strange.
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Any tips for an aspiring social worker
+Be aware of any of your own trauma. Dont be one of the people who think they can do therapy AND get a degree at the same time. You will burn out, there are hundreds every year. Please dont be the person in lectures who takes yup 45 minutes crying over past trauma every session; you need to seek counselling for that from a professional who can help, not from your newbie classmates.
You may think its an exaggeration, but No. Unfortunately, no.
This ties in to your own biases, what you are likely to take to heart if the person fails, etc. You need to work with your supervisor around clients that may trigger something for you; or reconsider the role you are aiming for, etc.
+Have personal skills, you will be making and repairing relationships often. You can’t be someone who is super introverted and unable to start relationships with the clients; because often you are going to be the one doing the Hard Talks about difficult subjects. It doesnt mean you have to be a drill sargeant, but it means you need to have the confidence to talk with anyone.
If you’re a bit shy, work on talking to people and even looking into little courses. You’re not needing qualifications in public speaking, but you do need to have yourself in a position wherein you can talk to someone, even a whole family, or even lawyers, and police. Via phone, video, face-to-face, etc.
+Have work clothes and home clothes. Also court clothes, if you work in areas that need it.
Wear smart casual, you need to look presentable but not be like, dripping with diamonds and playing ‘rich person ministers to the Poors’. It happens, they get told off.
DO NOT WEAR SKIN TIGHT CLOTHES. Or ripped skinny jeans, or have your cleavage/buttcrack hanging out. Please. Strapless backs and short shorts also no.
Students sometimes turn up in this and it is dangerous. Especially the ladies. Sometimes you work with people who are very dangerous, who will interpret clothing for consent, and/or have incredibly low respect for women. When something happens, they will point to the workplace dresscode and absolve themselves of the situation.
Do not wear dangly earrings, scarves or thick necklaces/anything you do not want taken. And if in a hospital role, there are additional rules about what can and cannot be worn (bare below the elbow rule).
Also, enclosed shoes. IF you are in a service that assists families with dysregulated lives, or in the hospitals, etc, you will have strict policies about footwear for your safety.
+Get the flu shot. Trust me. Do it. You talk to so many people, by the time one catches a cold and you start showing symptoms, you’ve seen like twenty people and they all have families.
+Be used to working to tight deadlines. They are always there, esp in hospital social work where you legit have to account for every minute of the day and patient seen on this awful little system.
We are understaffed in most areas, and you will need to work hard.
BUT, self-care is imperative. Even if it is only making sure you leave before 9pm each night lmao.
+Be able to let insults go. You are going to be dealing with people often in the worst part of their life, be it mental health, in the justice system, having their kids removed, being disabled and persistently denied assistance, having significant alcohol/drug concerns, people who have experience extreme sexual harms or domestic violence, people who are being stalked, people in crisis etc.
At some point someone will call you some horrific things, or threaten you, or make nasty comments about you, etc. They may try to make constant complaints, etc. And as frustrating as that is, you have to understand their frustration and anger and fear.
You do not have to sit there and listen to them swear at you, that’s not what this means. It means that when someone is heightened and calling you a cunt, or something more inventive, you don’t give them the reaction they want; you can acknolwedge that they are upset/etc, or give them space by ending the call/leaving the room.
Think about when something happened for you and it was the Worst and you swore or threatened, etc. When you are calm, it seemed ridiculous, didn’t it?  But that was you processing big, complicated feelings in the only way that felt right at the time. Same for them.
+You need to be aware that some clients have done or experienced terrible things, but you need to be open to the individual within the trauma. For example, someone may not be showing their emotional distress or pain or grief etc in the way you think they should, so you might discount it. When, someone who has gotten to know the client is aware that they tend to do ____ behaviour when they are having flashbacks, which is not a behaviour normally associated with the trauma.
Also, biases again.  Just because someone is on drugs and denying to you that they have a problem, does not mean some part of them isn’t aware they do have one. Relapses are common. Soemtimes it is about discussing what was happening for them this week that made them use again, what they could try next time, if they are using their support networks. And never putting them in the Hopeless box.
If you are really struggling with a client, lean on your team, talk to your supervisor and see what else can be done or if there is another social worker with more experience who can be involved even for a short-term intervention.
+Don’t throw jargon and insider terms around when talking to clients, it’s rude.  Explain things, use pauses so they can think.
+Look into the primary populations of your area/the area you intend to work in. Are there a high level of Indigenous persons? Refugees? People whose first language isn’t english and may need extra help with engagment?
What are your immediate thoughts (learned stigmata/stereotypes) about these peoples? How can you learn more?
In Aus, we work closely with Indigenous communities and agencies around social work matters. Making sure everyone is supported, heard, and can understand the concerns being raised/what is needed to help the client move forwards. There are many people out there who see this as ‘coddling’ or ‘unfair to non-Indigenous people’; but it is simply making certain that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are on the same footing as any non-Indigenous client.
And that cultural options are put on the table, such as having a family member step up to take in a child whilst the parent is not well; or trying a community-focused approach to helping with a drug concern, and using the right agencies so that they have appropriate supports.
Would it be fair to have a non-english speaking client in a courtroom without an interpreter? Why?  Would you claim that they should know english and the entire legal system bc they were in your country? Of course not, that’s absurd.  But some people think that way.
Would it be fair to ask someone in a wheelchair to file a form on the top floor of a building with no elevators, by 5pm, or lose their home? Why? Would you think they are complaining or ‘lying’ if they were able to mobilise a few steps without the chair, on a good day? That they were being ‘lazy’ and ‘deserved’ to lose their housing? Of course not, that’s absurd.  But some people think that way.
When the military put men into service in the wars, they made anyone who could pass an english test an officer and the rest priovates who would die first in battle. Was this fair? Why not? Because it ensured the rich white dudes with private tutors got the best spots (totally unqualified) while the poor, poc and refugees were used as cannon fodder. Many could have been good officers if the test was about competence, but it wasn’t. Some people feel this was fair.
There are still people who think they ‘did the right thing’ whilst participating in the Stolen Generations; but then, they also thought taking babies from single mothers was appropriate too. That women couldn’t vote or be trusted with money, that is was ‘kinder��� to take a stillborn away and dispose of it without the mother ever seeing... rather than let her hold them, and say goodbye the way she needed to. Not to mention the english children shipped over to Aus to be used as little slaves and cruelly abused by Priests and Nuns and ‘upright christian citizens’. Not to mention lobotomies for when people were too emotional/refusing to play the game. Forcing hormone treatments on men and women to stop their homosexuality or sexually abusing them to ‘fix them’. Not to mention all the Twilight births nonsense where they tried to remove the pregnant person from the equation entirely, and it kept causing post partum depression.  Not to mention... Not to Mention... NOT TO MENTION...
We have a lot of broken little old men and women and nonbinary (who do or don’t realise it) now, because of these “helpful interventions”.
You need to be aware of the harm that has been done, and aware of your own practice, so this damage can’t happen again and again.
Understand that your perspective and the worries/concerns you hold are often different to those of the client, because you are individuals who grew up in very different ways.
And remember, being a rich white person in a high paying job with good social standing doesn’t mean you can’t be charged for drug possession or have child safety knock on your door about the bruises you leave. Never think people are Above being awful, and never Assume people are because they are poor, a different colour, have not had your advantages, or have a disability/poor mh or addiction.
Clients are people, like you. Never think that you are above needing help too, one day. We all do, humans are built to rely on the group, on the social bonds we make from the minute we are born.
+Do you overreact to things? Sometimes a client will tell you about something that happened years ago, but they may phrase it like it happened yesterday (because of how it has returned to their mind, etc), and if you were to overreact to that immediately it can break the relationship/cause harm. You could say, “I can hear that this is very distressing for you, thank you for telling me about this difficult event in your life. Would it be alright if I asked you a follow-up question about when this occurred?” Sometimes a client will disclose things to you, and the goal is to remain in the conversation. They do a lot of this preparation at university, but you also need to have a personal ability to not panic off the bat.
+Ask yourself, is there anyone I would refuse to work with... and then examine Why. How would you react if a person like that came onto your caseload?
+Do not become overly emotionally invested in a client. It will be said in training over and over again, but you need to have clear boundaries; and being too invested in their success can hinder your ability to provide appropriate assessments for the client. Meaning they are not getting the care they need; which can sometimes be a harsh conversation about how you can see they are trying, but have backslid recently, so what is happening?
+Look at any internal biases and prejudices you may have. Did you have extreme mental health concerns that may make you feel more sympathetic to a parent or client, and this could blind you to the other concerns present? Didyou grow up rich and now have unrealistic expectations of what is necessary to be a good person? Do you think that all ‘those people’ should ______ ? Why?  Question yourself. If you find yourself stereotyping or pigeonholing someone as ‘just another ____ trying to _____’ stop. Think about it. Where did you get that idea?
+Be aware of professional boundaries, do not be friends with the clients, but don’t be cold. Always let your bosses know about potential conflicts of interest to protect you.
Like, don’t loan the client $5, don’t hang out at the cinema because they’re ‘a great person’, etc.
And be aware that you have more power in this dynamic, so you have to be careful not to abuse it.
+You need to be good at record keeping, and honest.  Everything you do is documents, referrals, reports, affidavits, forms, and a million little notes for this and that. It is imperative you are accurate, use the format required, and be honest. If you saying “Have you tried not taking drugs?” to a client sends them into a rage, you don’t write “Client was heightened and threatened me without reason at today’s session” in the notes. That’s putting a knife in their back.
”Client was triggered when I, the practitioner, made an inappropriate remark (”Have you tried not taking drugs?”) today. They told me I am a “fucking whore who should kill myself” and threw their chair across the room before leaving the building. I have discussed this matter with my supervisor, and we are going to call Client at 3pm today, to provide a formal apology for this statment and attempt to repair the professional working relationship, as they have been making significant progress with this agency until today’s event.” Whole scenario, tells the real story. You will make mistakes, but it is about being able to accept this and move forwards.
Accurate documentation is a must, may be needed for court.
+You will need to have a good memory. A good way of keeping little notes to unlock the full encounter when you write casenotes and reports.
+Make connections. Every client will need a support system around them, and if you have an inroads with different agencies, it will help them out. For example, if your client has drug concerns, then being aware of the agencies and counsellors in the region broadens their safety net.
Knowing the practitioners gives you someone to ask for professional advice around, say “Good Morning Kim, I know your agency handles Centrelink application often for non-english speaking clients. I have a client who is new to the country and is struggling to complete the financial aid forms, they speak Language. Would I be able to refer them to your agency, or will they need a more specific agency who handle Language -speaking persons?”
You have, in a deidentified way, sought help for a client through a known agency and can now refer them pending the answer. Etc.
+If you are not sure about something, ask your supervisor. They have several years on you, and almost all areas of social work prescribes to one or another Acts (legal requirements) which they are required to have a strong grasp on.
Get to know any legislation in the area you are aiming for. This will help immensely.
+Doing a degree gets you two fieldwork practicals, in different areas.  These really help you identify which area you want to go for; your main goal going into a degree may not be the one you settle on. Many people have an idea where they want to work and change their minds after their placements, or really feel connected to a different area, etc.
+Mostly, be certain this is what you want.
Have your own support network.
Be aware that you must uphold confidentiality, at all times. No posting to social media people, please...
Be aware that in small communities you are likely shopping at the same place as clients. Ask them how they want you to react when you see each other in public (eg. please don’t acknowledge me, or happy to give a wave) so they feel comfortable.
Don’t disclose personal information to a client.  There’s a difference between “Yes, I can see that you are having trouble with baby; I recall they get quite fussy at teething time, have you tried a cold biting ring?” and “My son, Chadley, is eight but when he was two he used to just keep biting the furniture and his poor teacher, Mrs Allyways! At least he’s grown out of it now, but I just know Bailey’s going into that phase soon, the dangers of having kids a few years apart!”
I know who your child had as a teacher, and now the school as well, esp if its a small town. I know you have two children, their names, and your last name so I could go get them from school if I wanted to. I know you work until 5pm, and someone could pick them up.
Etc.
Mostly, be a decent human being who does their best and doesn’t walk in thinking they’re better than everyone, and you can do okay. Have a good support network, use them, and seek help if you struggle.
Uni is drawn out and a bit boring, but you will get a lot from it (even if you only see it in hindsight).
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equalseleventhirds · 4 years
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quick disclaimer before fic: this is not meant to excuse or absolve melanie and georgie of outing jon; what they did was wrong and they should not have done it. instead it is an... examination of a character who is Maybe working some things out but, due to Internalized Issues, is harshly rejecting it both for herself and other people. (i’m aware i wrote something with the exact same FUCKING premise back when i was in the sh*rl*ck fandom dear god don’t read that linked fic it is from a deeply shameful time of fandom i only linked it as proof i did the same thing before. almost like i’m still working through the same stuff via writing fanfiction. hm.) (further discussion on THAT in post-fic notes; i wanted to keep it under the cut for personal reasons.)
furthermore: warning for discussion of sex (but not explicit depictions of sex), characters experiencing aphobia both internalized and not, mention of sexism wrt jobs, characters outing other characters without their consent (more than once, and more than just jon), and mention of consensual but unwanted sex (as in, consent was given, but the consenter did not enjoy it, and consented due to expectations).
- - -
It starts with: “I don’t, I, I usually can’t—Lately. I mean. Lately I can’t.” Melanie shuts her eyes so she won’t have to see Georgie, her hand on the sheets, judgment questions in her eyes. “Since I got—shot. It’s more difficult, is all.”
“Melanie—”
“You can still try,” she says, the words falling too fast, too panicked. “If you want, sometimes other people—and it’s fine! I’m always, it’s fine to try. Sometimes I do. I just might not. You know.”
“You might not orgasm,” Georgie finishes for her. It’s hard to tell how she’s feeling about it—until her fingers brush Melanie’s chin, turning her face up.
Reluctantly, Melanie opens her eyes, and then she’s glad she did. Because Georgie’s smiling, not a mocking smile, gentle. And they said this was just, just casual, just between friends (there’s too much going on with ghosts and the Institute and Georgie’s ex sleeping on her couch when he isn’t being kidnapped for it to be more than that), but Melanie’s glad Georgie is smiling.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Georgie says. She’s sitting up now, not lying almost-not-quite between Melanie’s legs anymore. She looks gorgeous, naked and cross-legged on that horrible mattress with a microfiber sheet wrapped around her shoulders, and Melanie wants to curl up in the sheet with her and eat the leftover pizza from earlier and fall asleep together with grease on their hands.
No. Focus. “It’s okay,” Georgie says again, gentler. “If you can’t right now. If you don’t want to. You certainly gave me a lovely orgasm—”
“—or three—”
“—yes, thank you, and if you’d rather just call it there, I’m not pushing it. As long as you enjoyed yourself.” She frowns, suddenly, glancing down at Melanie’s hands. “You… did enjoy yourself? I hope we didn’t—”
“I did!” She always does, when it’s other people coming, when she gets to be touching warm skin and watching someone fall apart. It’s… nice. “It’s just, you know. I got shot.”
(And isn’t that a convenient excuse, she sneers in her own head, and it sounds like Toni refusing to come back to the team, it sounds like the most sarcastic videos about her breakdown, it sounds like Elias. Isn’t it convenient that now you can blame your little problem on blood flow, or nerve endings, or stress. Never mind that you didn’t have those excuses a year ago. Or two years. Or back when you had a real girlfriend, and you always said yes but she got tired before—)
Georgie tucks a strand of hair behind Melanie’s ear. “Okay, good. If we, you know, try this again sometime? If you’re feeling better? Then I can try.” She stops, licks her lips, watches Melanie’s expression. “Or I can… not try, if you’d still prefer that. Later. You know. If.”
“I’m not—” And she’s rushing again, always rushing, she doesn’t even know if she and Georgie will ever—
“No, I know! It’s fine! But like—Look, this isn’t exactly new for me, you know? If that’s something you want. Something you don’t want. Or I, I’m saying it’s not a problem, if you do or don’t want me to make you come in the future, or even if you don’t want to have sex at all, I mean, when we were dating Jon didn’t—”
That’s where Georgie stops, as if talking about Jon is too much, as if she hasn’t been speaking Melanie’s secret insecurities out loud in bed like it’s something they can talk about, as if all of this hasn’t already been too much and too terrifying already.
Melanie stands up, grabs the comforter as a makeshift cloak (because Georgie has the sheet, and suddenly she isn’t sure she wants to share the sheet with her). “Right.”
“I’m just—I have a friend. Who you might talk to, if you wanted to talk about this.”
She steps away from the bed, towards the door. “Sure. Pizza? I’m hungry.”
-
The problem is, Melanie doesn’t much like Jon. He was such a dick about the Youtube thing, and about her statement, and about Sasha. And even though she knows (sort of) that part of it hadn’t been his fault, she still isn’t going to talk over her disinterest in sex with him. It’s mortifying. Even if he wasn’t her boss. And Georgie’s ex. And currently out of the Archives, anyway.
But she wants to talk to somebody, about Georgie’s words running around and around and around her head, about the sheer panic mixing with almost-relief and then the visceral no no no churning low in her stomach that had made it a struggle just to choke down her pizza. She wants to ask someone is this normal, am I allowed, is it even enough to be halfway to ‘not at all’ or should I just suck it up. She wants to talk that out desperately.
It’s just… she doesn’t have many friends left, after her whole fall from Youtube ghost hunter grace. She’s not going to ask Georgie about it, any more than Jon, although for pretty much the opposite reason. Who’s left? Her shiny new coworkers? Tim, who seethes and hates everything and everyone in the Archives? Martin, who’s still upset that Jon so much as spoke to her while he was on the run? Basira?
-
When Melanie met Sasha—the real Sasha, the one apparently no one but her even remembers—she’d been the only woman in the Archives. And Melanie had chatted with her about haunted pubs, and maximizing SEO, and how to talk to people who’d seen a white dog while they were drunk and thought it was a ghost. And about their jobs, of course, which led to both of them scoffing about the sexist bullshit of academia and how someone like Sasha could be just an assistant and the only woman on her team.
And then Elias hired Melanie to replace… the thing that replaced Sasha. Hired another woman to replace the only woman. You learn to see patterns from the kind of person who might say diversity the same way as toilet plunger: something necessary, but distasteful. Melanie was filling a role he needed filled, and she could live with that.
And then Basira.
Who wasn’t there because she wanted to be, of course, but was still there. Was still another woman in the boy’s club of terror they’d apparently signed on for. Could maybe, maybe, be someone Melanie could connect with. Someone she could talk to.
Maybe.
-
“Do you know if he and Jon ever…?”
“No clue, and not interested!” She’s laughing, about to just dismiss it out of hand, but… maybe. She can feel the questions she never asked Georgie, the words sharpening their claws on the edges of her mind. The no, not me, not allowed sinking in her gut.
“Although…” Make it light. Make it interesting. Make it about someone else. How to hook an audience without having a public breakdown and becoming a— “According to Georgie, Jon… doesn’t.”
It feels wrong as soon as she says it. Like she’s dirty. Like she’s lying. Like a thousand eyes are looking at her, watching her, waiting for more. Make it a story. Engage your audience. Like it’s 2013 in a convention hotel room and Pete just told everyone Don’t worry, Mel likes girls actually, and even though they were all fine about it that moment of sharpshock terror in her throat as they all looked—
“Like, at all?”
The one thing she never learned was how to stop talking. “Yeah.”
“Yeah, that does explain some stuff.”
And that’s… it, really. That does explain some stuff. Jon is a dick, has always been a dick, overfocused on work and not on other people, and that does explain some stuff. Right. Yes. Like her last girlfriend had told her, about all you do is work, I can’t even get you off. An explanation, just like she always knew it would be.
It doesn’t really matter. She has a boss to go kill.
-
“I think,” she says, slow, like every word is being dragged out of her, “that I might not like. Sex. As much as, you know, people do.”
“You’re a person,” her therapist says, firm, and she has to bite back a sarcastic laugh.
“Right. ‘Course.”
- - -
post-fic notes: i myself personally have previously identified as: heteroromantic gray-ace, heteroromantic ace, aroace, aro gray-ace, aro bi, bi, arospec bi, aro bi again, and aro bi but sex ambivalent. part of that has been natural progression and change; part of that was bcos some people i considered friends got very into aphobic discourse, and i internalized a lot of what they said. in recent months i have been examining my sex ambivalence (sometimes repulsion) and considering what that means about whether or not i am on the ace spectrum. i’m still thinking about these things. i’m still, deep down inside, afraid of the aphobic people i respected and cared about hearing about this.
in part i wrote this to work through some of My Own Shit regarding this. in part i wrote this bcos i will get my grubby little aspec hands (bcos regardless of anything else, i am aspec, whether that’s ace or aro) on every character i can. yes, even the ones who did an objectively shitty thing to jon, the one canonical ace character. bcos sometimes people (like me) internalize things and make mistakes.
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buggie-hagen · 3 years
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Funeral Sermon for Max (9/17/21)
Primary Text | John 8:31-36
----------------------------------------------------
Dear People of God,
Whenever we face death, especially the death of a young person, especially the death of a young person who took their own life, the temptation is only to focus on the good things, the easy things. But only focusing on what is easy to talk about is a false comfort. Silence feeds the stigma that surrounds mental illness and the circumstances of taking one’s own life. What we have here is a tragedy. We have and we will certainly take time to honor the many and great accomplishments that can be said about our sibling Max. But to minimize, sugarcoat, or ignore the darkness that hangs over this day, to minimize the darkness that enveloped Max, would be a great disservice to them and to those who mourn. It is because we have a crucified Lord, we have a God who did not turn away from the darkness, but endured it, who was put to death by it. Thus, in Christ we have a God who leads us not around the darkness, but through the darkness. (pause) In our hearts, we know we lost Max too early. It is a grievous thing for a parent to have to bury their child. Instead of turning away in shame because of Max’s mental illness, let us face it together. Let us cry together. Let us take to heart that Max endured great pain within themself, a pain that caused despair. When someone struggles with mental health it is hard, even impossible, to see beyond what the binoculars focus on. Max couldn’t see for themself how much they were loved. They were hard on themself. They felt they had to be perfect. They were in pain, and they felt there was no way out of that pain. It is the tyranny of the evil one, the one who relentlessly accuses us with his flaming arrows, as to why we don’t have Max alive.
We are gathered here today because sin, death, and the devil have had their say. They have demonstrated their power. (pause) It is especially when the darkness makes its move that I am bidden to speak on God’s behalf the words he has authorized me to speak. I must speak to you about Christ, he is the good news for our bad situation. For those of us who remain today, whether we’re family, friends, or know Max in some other way, there are questions lingering in the air. I’m sure many of us are wondering what we could have done differently to save Max. I also wonder that. A question going through your head might be, “Maybe Max would be alive if I had said or did this one thing.” “…If I had not said or did this one thing,” “If only I knew what was going on, I would have bee there.” Maybe if Max had the right treatment, the right meds, the right therapy. You must know this, for whatever way any one of us have failed, there is one truth that stands—God forgives you. For the sake of Jesus Christ, you are absolved of all your sins. Beyond the shadow of a doubt the guilt you carry does not lay on you anymore, it is laid on Jesus Christ. And that is what you must remind yourself when this question comes up and your conscience accuses you, you are forgiven. Christ is the truth that makes you free from all that burdens you. As you go on with the day, the weeks, the months, the years, you will feel grief, I’m sure of it. But know there is a peace that surpasses all understanding, it is called God’s peace. God’s peace is not something that we make from within ourselves, like if we were to sit quietly and meditate. God’s peace is something that comes to you from outside yourselves. God gives it. And this peace is also Max’s, because Max belongs to Christ, it is their inheritance. When there is no light, remember that God meets us most profoundly in darkness and in suffering. This we know because Jesus Christ came, died, and rose for all, for you, for Max.
I’ll say to you the same thing that God said to Max on the most significant day of their life—the day they were baptized. As the water was poured out on their forehead in the name of the Triune God, God spoke this truth to Max, “I make you free,” “I make you free,” “I make you free, free indeed.” Baptism, of course, is not something done by our own power and abilities, it is done by God. The Sacrament of Holy Baptism is where God creates faith, no matter how feeble or dim. In baptism, Max was clothed with Christ. And a person who has been clothed with Christ is someone who has complete and total forgiveness of sins, someone who has life and has it abundantly, and someone who is saved in such a manner that nothing can snatch them out of God’s hands. The day Max was baptized is more significant than any other because it is that day that God made a decision about Max. That God would be their God. Forever. Through it all. No matter what. Sin, death, and the devil cannot take it away from them. Nor can Max themself do something that undoes it. The promise God made to Max remains and stands, “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” And so Max is free. Max is now free of all the trouble they ever faced. (pause) Max felt they were alone, but God graciously was there, keeping his promise, through the very last breath. Nothing in all creation can separate Max from God’s love in Jesus Christ. Nothing. (Pause)
I should say, it has been my privilege to know Max since June. I’m sure many of you have known Max much longer. And if you know Max, you know Max is such a gift of God, and will be deeply missed. Throughout Max’s life, we can see glimpses of the freedom God gave them—You can see the beginning of Max’s freeness in all the wonderful ways they engaged the world around them. Whatever they participated in, it was no toe-dipping or light dabble, Max would go all in! They were a driven person with great zeal and passion which impacted whoever was around them. Max was a leader and loved debate team, Max was a featured state clarinetist, Max was knowledgeable and informed in politics. Max would speak on behalf of a more inclusive society, they would stand up for the underdog, and Max was also the valedictorian of the Rudolph High School Class of 2020. Max was a person with integrity. Family and friends and teachers and babysitters and many more have spoken to me how much they valued who Max was. They were a great friend, a great student, a great child, a great sibling. (pause) Max was also a person who wanted to live true to themself. Because I had met Max in June, I had never known Max by any other name. In August, they came out to me as nonbinary and as a person who uses they/them pronouns. When they came out to me I made sure to tell them I appreciate this about them and that I affirm them. For indeed, Max is one whom God has graciously chosen to favor, and that is what I have been bidden to say unequivocally.
The last time I saw Max was before they left for college to participate in the debate team. I lent them a book to read called Word of Life. On one of those pages, the author writes to his bereaved child, “That’s all we have in the end…faith alone. Trust that God will in the end act, either in this life or at the resurrection. But in the end, the enemies, even death, will be defeated.” God will act in Jesus Christ, death will be defeated. This is not the end of Max. Through his Son God has set foot in Max’s life to free them from all that binds them. Therefore, Max is free, free indeed. Nothing can take that away now. All the wonderful accomplishments Max has under their belt, are a whisper of what is to come. Take this to heart, Max has a future much greater than their past. Max has a future much greater than their past.
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96thdayofrage · 3 years
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Corrupt and avaricious corporations honor Juneteenth and cynical politicians give it great attention. There are calls to make it an official federal holiday. Unfortunately, the most common narratives of the Civil War are fraught with lies meant to give dispensation to bad actors of that era and to sanitize awful truths.
Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation went into effect on January 1, 1863 and is one of the most misunderstood documents in history. Lincoln was far from the great emancipator of the American imagination. In the early days of the war he ordered that enslaved people who escaped to Union lines be returned to their slaveholders. His goal was to accommodate the southern states as much as possible and keep them, and their peculiar institution, in the Union. Only rebel intransigence and the determination of the enslaved to be free changed his plans.
“Corrupt and avaricious corporations honor Juneteenth and cynical politicians give it great attention.”
Lincoln wanted to prevent slave holding states Delaware, Maryland, Kentucky, and Missouri from seceding. That is why the Proclamation freed only those people located in states that had already seceded, that is to say under Confederate control, which made it practically meaningless as a tool of emancipation. The Proclamation also exempted those areas of the Confederacy which were already under Union control.
He also insisted that the little emancipation that he offered be tied to colonization , the relocation of Black people outside of the country. It is rarely mentioned that he signed such a colonization plan on December 31, 1862, the day before signing the Emancipation Proclamation. A group of 500 “contrabands” were sent to Île à Vache, a small island off the coast of Haiti, in 1863. They were ravaged by hunger and disease and only 365 survived when they were rescued in 1865.
The insistence on continuing this pro-Lincoln mythology has turned the Juneteenth story into a nonsensical fairy tale. We are told that enslaved people didn’t know the war had ended and didn’t know they should have been freed until the Union army arrived in Texas.
“The Proclamation freed only those people located in states that had already seceded.”
Of course, Texans of all races knew that Robert E. Lee surrendered his armies in April 1865 and they knew that Lincoln was assassinated shortly thereafter. They had newspapers and the telegraph and letters from those who left the battlefield. Enslaved people were aware of anything that white people knew. They overheard conversations and saw white soldiers returning home. Some were on the battlefield as laborers in the Confederate army. The official announcement only confirmed what they already knew.
The explanation of the late announcement is very simple. Texas is further west and was off the beaten path of the Union army. It took them two months to establish their victory and send troops to Confederate hinterlands. It is also not surprising that the slaveholders wouldn’t free anyone until they absolutely had to. There was no one able to enforce Lincoln’s two-year old decree and they simply went about business as usual, squeezing the last ounce of forced labor out of their human chattel while they had the chance.
Juneteenth is an opportunity to tell the history of the enslaved people who freed themselves when they could and joined the army to form the United States Colored Troops (USCT). The untold importance of the Emancipation Proclamation is that it established the right of escaped people to join the army. Frederick Douglass and others pleaded with Lincoln for two years to arm the people who had the greatest stake in the outcome of the war. Juneteenth is an opportunity to debunk and demystify.
“Texans of all races knew that Robert E. Lee surrendered his armies in April 1865 and they knew that Lincoln was assassinated shortly thereafter.”
Any effort to make Juneteenth a national holiday should be viewed with caution. Such a designation would only continue the telling of false tales. It would allow the bad actors of the present day to get away with cheap theatrics while continuing the legal and economic structures which still oppress Black people. The true story of the past would be kept hidden and the story of the present would be sugar coated.
Juneteenth was a big event in the segregated south, a people's holiday. That is how it should remain. Corporations which work against the people's interests should not be allowed to absolve themselves by engaging in performative acts. Politicians who aid them at every turn should not be permitted to utter Juneteenth platitudes and create a new public relations farce. An opportunity to discuss resistance against oppression has been turned into a substance-free feel good day.
Black people don’t need governmental or corporate acknowledgement in order to tell their stories. In fact, learning history for our own sake is of paramount importance. Juneteenth can be the starting point for further study. Let Juneteenth remain a commemoration with significance for ourselves. Doing otherwise inevitably leads to confusion.
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