#'I want to live because I love life!' nope it's mostly about spite

[sunderwight]

Thinking about a bingqiu Dreamling AU where Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua are both bored deities, just sort of taking a brief sojourn through the mortal world to shoot the shit and see some interesting monster or other that Shen Yuan has heard about, when they come across a tea house and decide to take a break and do some people-watching instead.

Shen Yuan is well into something of a shut-in phase, which Shang Qinghua doesn't like, mostly because when Shen Yuan is in those phases he doesn't do particularly well either. Shen Yuan's a social butterfly, for however little he cares to actually acknowledge it about himself, and his critique of Shang Qinghua's literary masterpieces gets so much harsher when he's not getting enough enrichment.

So when they overhear one of the kitchen boys solemnly insisting that he is going to do everything in his power to never die, and Shen Yuan laments that the boy would probably regret such a wish if it came true, Shang Qinghua decides to bestow a rare bit of godly power onto this mortal and grant his wish.

He doesn't make him a god, of course, that wouldn't even be in his ability. At least, not without using up more time and effort than he's prepared to expend on this one random kid. But immortality on its own is not that difficult. The boy will still finish growing up, and will still be able to be harmed, to know hunger and pain and illness. It just won't ever kill him.

Shen Yuan sighs that it's a cruel thing to do to a mortal, especially one with such low odds of ever cultivating other skills to mitigate the potential torment of it all. But Shang Qinghua just shrugs and they place bets, that this boy will ask for the immortality to be revoked in a hundred years, or two hundred, or so on, or else he won't. Shen Qingqiu approaches the kitchen boy and flusters and bewilders him by telling him to meet him back here again in a hundred years time.

A hundred years later, the tea house is larger. The boy has grown to be a striking young man, who looks at Shen Yuan with wariness and something else, something almost like awe, as he asks what manner of creature he's made this bargain with. Shen Yuan assures him that he has no nefarious intentions, and instead asks Luo Binghe how the past century of his life has gone.

Horribly, at least at first. Binghe's mother had already died by the time they met, but afterwards he managed to earn enough money to travel to a nearby sect. Working in the tea house's kitchen was just a minor stopover along the way. Shen Yuan was wrong, it seems, about his odds of becoming a cultivator -- Luo Binghe earned entry as a disciple.

Yet, he had no success. The master who took him on was unaccountably cruel and mercurial, and Luo Binghe's attempts to cultivate failed. Looking back he sees now that there were many times when he should have died but didn't, but when it was all happening he just thought himself lucky. At least until an enemy sect attacked a cultivation conference, and he suffered mortal wounds that absolutely should have killed him (or anyone) but still didn't die. (No demon race or abyss in this AU, but there are still demonic and fantastical creatures.)

His cruel master, upon witnessing this, accused him of heretical practices and tried to kill him as well by flinging him off the edge of a gorge. The fall was terrible. Binghe lay at the bottom in a horrifying state, injured beyond reason and yet, still, he didn't die. Eventually his body recovered enough for him to drag himself out, and once he did the only thing on his mind was getting revenge. For the next several decades he managed to ingratiate himself to all manner of potential allies, forging alliances, accumulating blackmail, and convincing people that he had to be some powerful cultivator through his supernatural resilience, lack of visible aging, and a lot of bluffing. He got revenge on his old teacher, drove his first sect into ruin, and rose to prominence as a feared and respected leader of the cultivation world.

Shen Yuan listens with clear interest, asking plenty of questions and seemingly quite taken up with the story. At the conclusion, Luo Binghe admits that his actual cultivation is still mostly a matter of smoke and mirrors, and wonders if -- now that the hundred years have passed -- Shen Yuan means to strip his immortality from him.

Shen Yuan asks if Luo Binghe wants that. When Luo Binghe says no, he accepts the answer, and tells him to meet him back here again in another hundred years. Luo Binghe calls after him, but before he can ask anything more, Shen Yuan has disappeared again.

A hundred years later, Binghe arrives back at the tea house with an entourage befitting of an emperor. The tea house has also expanded. Luo Binghe orders a lavish feast from them, which everyone hastens to provide. He's spent the past several decades consolidating his power, forging alliances with key political players via several marriages, producing heirs, and crushing his enemies. As he brags about the state of his massive harem to Shen Yuan, the deity's eyes begin to glaze over. He doesn't seem impressed. He also doesn't seem to care much for the food, and eventually his attention is stolen away by a conversation at another table. The diners are discussing the exploits of a promising new poet and novelist. Try as he might, Luo Binghe fails to regain Shen Yuan's attention before the evening is done. Shen Yuan doesn't think it's a big deal -- after all, if Binghe is still riding on top of the world, he's probably not going to want his immortality gift revoked just yet!

Another hundred years go by. The tea house has returned to a more modest situation, the next time Shen Yuan sets foot in it. He waits an unusually long while for his guest to arrive, and when he does, he's almost stopped at the door by the tea house's servers. It's only when Shen Yuan bids them let him through that Luo Binghe is able to come to the table, almost collapsing against it and desperately falling onto the arrangement of snacks with obvious hunger.

Shen Yuan wonders if this, now, will be when the boy (no longer a boy) asks for the immortality to be revoked. Surprisingly, he finds himself resistant to the idea, even though it's also clear that the game has run too long. Maybe hundred year check-ins were too short? He doesn't like the implications of what's gone on, even if he's not really surprised about it either.

Between desperate mouthfuls of food, Luo Binghe explains that without mastering inedia, going hungry but never dying is a deeply unpleasant experience. Shen Yuan orders more food. Once Binghe has finally eaten his fill, he begins, haltingly, to explain his situation. His clothes are ragged, he is painfully thin, and his gaze is haunted.

Apparently, several of his wives conspired to assassinate him, despite his reputation as unkillable. Realizing that most poisons and such didn't kill him, but that he could still be incapacitated, they hatched a scheme to dose his food with a powerful sleeping agent, and then walled him up in a famous ancestral tomb. They went to great length to ensure that it was impossible to escape from. It took Binghe decades to do it anyway, digging away at the floors, and when he got out he found that his power base had collapsed. In-fighting and the incursion of his enemies had led to the deaths of all of his children, and what wives had survived had either fled or remarried. Not that he particularly wanted them back at that point, since the ones actually most loyal to him had also been killed early on after his own "death". His face marked him, to the eyes of his enemy, as a surviving descendant of himself. He was hunted down, chased across the continent and back again, until he managed to fall into enough obscurity that his pursuers abandoned the chase. Except that he has nothing, and any time he tries to regain something, he runs the risk of being hounded again. Those who might see some potential in him still remember the collapse of his recent "dynasty" and slam doors in his face, or else try and turn him over to those now in power in pursuit of a reward. Those who don't know that much see only a dirty beggar, and usually run him off on that basis instead.

Shen Yuan, almost hesitant, asks if Luo Binghe would like to have his immortality revoked.

Luo Binghe declines. How will he be able to take revenge on those who wronged him if he is dead? He has a hit list a mile long by now.

Which is definitely not the most noble of reasons to persist, but Shen Yuan finds himself reluctant to ask twice. Instead he orders more food, and then even reserves one of the traveler's rooms above the tea house for several days. By then the sky is turning grey, and Luo Binghe is losing his apparent battle with exhaustion. Shen Yuan presses the key into his hand, thinking it's probably not enough, but there are limits to how much gods are supposed to interfere and Shang Qinghua already stretched them to the breaking point with this entire scenario.

He leaves, not seeing the hand that reaches after him just before he is out of the door and gone.

Another hundred years pass. This time, Shen Yuan arrives to find Luo Binghe already waiting for him. He isn't surprised to see that Binghe's situation has visibly improved -- maybe he was keeping closer tabs on him, just a little bit, for this past while. If only to be sure he wouldn't have to warn the tea house workers to expect an unorthodox visitor again! But no, Binghe has been doing well enough for himself. No more harems or thrones, though. He dresses more like a well-off merchant now, deliberately posing as his own mortal descendant rather than as a great immortal cultivator. The food at the table looks far more delicious than usual too (Binghe commandeered the tea house's kitchen himself this time). As they chat, Shen Yuan is regaled with the exploits of Luo Binghe's travels and adventures, how even though he initially set out to claim revenge on those who overthrew him, by the time he was in a position to actually do so they had already died of the usual causes (time, illness, their own schemes backfiring, etc). Subsequently, only their children and grandchildren were left with the scraps of power they had obtained, and when one of those children employed Luo Binghe as a bodyguard, his initial plan to assassinate them eventually fell by the wayside. After all, the wrongdoings weren't actually theirs. From that point, Binghe was able to restore himself to a more comfortable life, joining his new employer on their travels until he had set aside enough earnings to take his leave before his youthful good-looks earned him suspicion. He then began investing in travel and trade, specifically cargo ships, because never spending too long in the same place or around the same people helped disguise his immortality. He had found that, at least for now, this served him better than playing the part of a cultivator. It also gave him time to try and actually repair his ruined cultivation base somewhat, and fighting pirates proved very diverting.

Binghe is midway through recounting his adventures with a gigantic sea monster, while Shen Yuan hangs on every word, when they're interrupted by the arrival of a brash young mistress, clearly wealthy and trained in cultivation. The young lady declares that there is a rumor that a fallen god and a demon meet in this tea house once a century, that they wield strange powers, etc etc, and she intends to interrogate them both with the assistance of her hired muscle and her own spiritual weapon, and discover the truth of the matter. Then she whips out, well, a whip!

Before Shen Yuan can deal with the matter, Luo Binghe is already on his feet, disarming the goons and breaking a few arms in the process. Shen Yuan is so distracted that he almost misses the whip aimed right for him, but before Binghe can catch the barbed weapon with his bare hand (wtf, Binghe, no) Shen Yuan deflects it with a wave of his fan, and then efficiently knocks the troublesome young lady unconscious. The hired muscle flees, Shen Yuan arranges for their assailant to be placed in a room upstairs until she regains consciousness, and he and Binghe resume their meal and conversation in relative peace.

Even though it's clear that Luo Binghe has not yet reached the end of his tolerance for life, Shen Yuan nevertheless finds himself strangely reluctant to part ways at the end of the night. Still, he does, because that's what is expected of him, gently denying Luo Binghe's suggestions that they find some other establishment to continue their conversation at. He also has to investigate these "rumors" that the young lady mentioned. It's probably nothing (Shang Qinghua has a loose tongue when he's drunk, and a lot of imaginative storytellers have frequented this tea house over the years) but he doesn't like being caught unawares like that. Heavenly politics are... complicated, it's best not to court unwanted attention in any capacity.

Another hundred years go by. This time, when they meet at the tea house, Luo Binghe asks Shen Yuan why he keeps it up. Why did he pick Binghe? What is he really after? When Shen Yuan fails to give any kind of clear answer, Luo Binghe shoots his shot and makes a (very obvious) move on him.

Shen Yuan, flustered, gets up and flees. Ignoring Luo Binghe's calls after him. It just doesn't make any sense! Why would Binghe do that?! He's a man who once had a harem of wives in the triple digits! Clearly he's not gay, so what was that all about? Was he just messing with him?! How dare he! Etc, etc.

Another century passes. Luo Binghe waits at the tea house, which has fallen onto hard times again. With the construction of some new roadways, travelers no longer pass through as often. Binghe listens, worried, to the proprietor's laments that this old place will probably not be around in another hundred years. He listens because he has no one else to speak to, because Shen Yuan has not shown up. Not that morning, not during the day, not come evening, and not now that it is closing time. Binghe nevertheless charms and bribes the proprietor to let him stay even after the place has shuttered.

It seems damning, of course. He pressed too hard and now his mysterious benefactor wants nothing more to do with him. Except, no, he refuses to accept that. He's still immortal. And he has gleaned enough of Shen Yuan's character by now that he thinks that even if he was rejected, he would be let down more clearly and gently than this. The more he thinks about it, the less willing Luo Binghe is to believe that he has been deliberately stood up (also, since the tenor of his confession was different from Hob Gadling's, he never delivered an ultimatum about what it might imply when they met up again).

Over the centuries, Luo Binghe has built up a few contacts with similarly strange and supernatural stories. Cultivators, sure, but also others, fortune tellers and people of strange ancestry, questionable abilities, those who have interacted with powerful beings of mysterious provenance. He makes his way to a certain gambling den, frequented often by such people, and while he flashes around enough money to draw curiosity, he collects information. Shen Yuan wasn't the only person who started paying more attention to the kinds of rumors surrounding the two of them after their confrontation with the young cultivator a couple centuries ago. And in fact, Luo Binghe has been spending many, many years trying to find out more about his mystery man. Though, too many potential deities and immortals fit his description for him to have ever conclusively figured much out.

This is how Binghe gets wind of a rumor that an eccentric occultist has somehow captured a god in his basement...

[pocketramblr]

For the 5 Headcanons game...

Shinso replaces Katsuki as Izuku's childhood bully

Now this is tricky, since it's not just a find and replace but hmm... How do we make this work...

1- First, they must be ✨ childhood friends.✨ So I guess they are. Go to the same nursery school, etc etc. Want to be heroes, collect All Might merch. Then Hicchan's quirk comes in and Izuku thinks it's soooo cool. But the other kids are... Scared. Hitoshi ignores them. When Izuku's quirk comes in, they'll be heroes together. They'll prove everyone wrong.

Izuku's quirk doesn't come in.

2- they go from the "would be villains" to "the freaks" in the eyes of their classmates. Hitoshi can't stand it- he can prove them wrong on the first count by becoming a hero, but... How do you prove you're not a freak, exactly? Well, you can try by getting away from the other one. Pushing away, if need be.

3- Hitoshi is aware that Izuku would be the only "acceptable" target for brainwashing at the school. He still doesn't use it on him, because spite to not be a villain. This will come back to bite him later, because Izuku would have loved to help him practice make his quirk stronger, but nope. Instead he has little idea how to use it, and little other methods to fight. Meanwhile, Izuku is cleaning a beach.

4- Hitoshi straight up didn't know Izuku got into UA until he came by the room before the SF to scope them out. Izuku also didn't know, because Hitoshi didn't tell anyone about getting into the general course. Hitoshi stares at him. Izuku stares back. "Hicchan!" Hitoshi's finds his words. "They say other students can get into the hero course at the SF, if we knock those unqualified out. Thanks for keeping my seat warm, Midoriya. Can't wait for everyone to see what a fake you are at the SF." (Bakugou, annoyed, who doesn't know anyone here and doesn't care: "oh my god can you two extras have your dramatic reunion somewhere not in the middle of the doorway when people are trying to leave.") Hitoshi ducks away. The class asks Izuku a million questions about who that was, and he avoids them, mostly. He wants to go look for Hitoshi, to ask him how he's been, but he's a bit shaken by his earliest friend not making it into the hero course. Was it because of Izuku- does he think he faked quirklessness for years, should he try to explain- but Hitoshi is already gone.

5- Izuku doesn't warn anyone about Hitoshi's quirk, because it doesn't seem fair to. He feels guilty about this later, when Ojiro drops out. The first round fight is highly emotionally charged. It's personal, now, and Hitoshi will spit anything at him to get him to talk. Izuku bites his tongue to keep from reacting, until Hitoshi calls him cruel for leaving him to play quirkless, when he could have saved him all that loneliness by having a heroic perfect quirk and sticking up for him. Izuku snaps, "you left me, Hicchan," and is pulled under brainwashing for the first time in his life. Then, he breaks out of it on his own, for the first time in either of their lives. That's when the real fight begins, no holds barred and no fear to draw blood. Izuku finally shoves Hitoshi over the line. Finally, he speaks. "All I wanted was to be a hero with you, Hicchan. I guess, if we make it separately, that's still better than nothing. Good luck."

[phoenixyfriend]

Time Travel ft. Leia and Vader

(Helped by @atagotiak)

I was reading a bunch of different time travel fics, and my brain slotted in that one "Vader hands over the Empire to Leia and is now her most devoted sycophant" dynamic and mixed it with the "Luke and Vader time-travel and Vader does the right thing but only because it would make Luke sad if he didn't."

I landed on "Leia time travels to prequels era, but her least favorite family member has also traveled with her, though it takes him a few months to find her because he has less resources without the entire Imperial Navy, but he's still a scary Sith in all black with a breathing mask and intimidating cape."

"Tiny angry lady who wants to force democracy and her giant Sith father whom she hates but has resigned herself to pointing at threats like a tank who inexplicably loves her" is a delightful dynamic.

The first few months included a lot of concern about "why do you know so much about Sith if you're not trained or looking to be one" and then Vader shows up and calls her 'daughter' and she insults him and it's like "Oh. That explains it."

Council Member: We have a Sith in the Temple. Vader: Former Sith. Leia: Listen. He is your best chance against Sidious. Also, do you want Dooku dead? Vader can make him dead. Council Member: Your father i-- Leia, scrunching up her face: Don't call him that.

Like Leia is deep in conversation when the Temple starts panicking because Vader just. Showed up? He snuck in, somehow? So Palpatine wouldn't catch him on video entering through the front door? And people try to keep her away from the trouble, because there's an entire array of Jedi Masters to deal with this Surprise Sith, except she can sense exactly which Sith it is and once she shouts "oh you have got to be kidding me!" she just starts running and, well, it's Leia. Nobody can stop her.

(Leia does have less combat training, at least less force-assisted combat training, than the Jedi. But then the Jedi don’t want to hurt here here. She's not fighting her way down, either, she's just running really fast and all the best fighters already left. They had a head start. So Leia's mostly running past random padawans and the like.)

She shoves her way to the front of the group of Masters who. Well, they're certainly ready to attack. But Vader is just standing there. Doing nothing. Still intimidating as fuck but he's not doing anything.

And then Leia bursts onto the scene like "You motherfucker."

She hits her head on a clipboard and whines because UGH he's a walking WMD and they could REALLY use him against Palpatine but also. She hates him so much.

She tries to hand him off to the Jedi council but he insists that he will only take orders from Leia herself.

Jedi: Wait, what. Leia, completely ignoring them: Did you follow me here? Vader, through the mechanical wheezing: I have no loyalty to my master and no empire to serve. You are all that I have left. Leia: Me? Me? I'm all that you have left? You committed a genocide that killed all the family I had except for the twin brother you later mutilated! Jedi: Wait what Vader, going to one knee: I pledge my loyalty and blade to you and only you, daughter. Leia, ready to explode: I. I just. Jedi, some of whom really want to say things but are slowly realizing that they just accidentally acquired a Sith Lord by proxy: What. Leia: I hate you so much but I can't even get rid of you, you're too useful. Vader: I live to serve. Leia: Yeah. Got that. Fuck. Someone get him a full medical rundown, I don't know the last time that mess of a life support system was updated. Jedi, agitated again: WHAT Leia: Listen, I don't like him, but I'm not stupid enough to throw away the second most dangerous person in the universe when I can point him at the most dangerous person in the universe. Especially not if he's going to listen to me. Jedi: But... he's a Sith. Leia: Please trust me when I say this: you might be able to take him down eventually, but he will take dozens of you down with him, and right now he's... honestly, I'm pretty sure he's more depressed than malicious. Jedi: You hate him. I can feel it. Leia: Yes, but I can be professional about it. Vader: They have not yet d-- Leia: Nope! No talking! Not until I've had a chance to process this mess!

There is a whole lot of Leia snapping at Vader to stop it whenever he starts giving off vibes like he wants to take the most violent shortcut possible.

She is not the gentle hand that Luke would be.

Leia isn't a Jedi or working for them but she's wormed her way into being an ally. They don't 100% trust her, especially not with Vader just showing up and declaring her family but like

How do you say no to a WMD walking into your house and saying "I will fight the monster you cower from at night."

There's a lot of Leia snapping off an admonishment that sounds just a little too odd and then when questioned she just says "He knows what he did."

tbh I'm not sure how long it takes for them to tell anyone that Anakin is Vader. They might hold it off in hopes that Anakin can just retire to be Mr. Amidala after the war is over.

Well, Leia hopes. Vader just lets Leia make that call and then glowers at his younger self every time they're in the same room.

I do feel like Leia tells Obi-Wan the truth first

Imagine. Imagine a Vader who’s past still isn’t known. But has gotten somewhat comfortable around the Jedi (not really but the bar for what counts and comfortable for him is low). And Obi-Wan habitually banters with darksiders, right? If Vader’s guard is down for a moment and he, without thinking, references an inside joke...

Might be the most fun in terms of ways to tell Obi-Wan "We're time travelers and Vader is what happens if you let Palpatine drive Anakin off the edge"

If Vader has decided to pledge himself to her orders after destroying her planet, then fine. She can work with that. She's not going to be happy about it, but she can make it work.

The Jedi Temple hates having Vader anywhere nearby but he is actually very good at hiding himself from people, including Palpatine And for all that Leia seems perpetually irritated with her apparent bodyguard, he does seem to listen to her.

Jedi council: We still haven't figured out how to handle Dooku Leia: Do you know his location? Jedi council: Yes. Leia: [sigh] Leia: Vader, deal with it. Alive if possible.

(Leia does need to clarify an acceptable level of violence against the people protecting Dooku.) (She needs to clarify... many things.)

Leia always says "Vader" and one time a poor fool just asks why she doesn't call him dad and she snarls out "He is not the man that raised me, and I am glad for it."

Someone less foolish later prods more compassionately and she lets them know she was adopted and didn't properly meet Vader except in passing until she was nineteen.

"And then he tortured you." "And then he tortured me, yes." "Damn." "Didn't even find out we were related until a few years later when he chopped my brother's arm off." "You... wow." "I know."

At least one exchange that is L: You mean when you tortured me? A: He did what. V: I was not aware of our relation at that time. L: Not the point! I am fully aware of your interrogation methods and I refuse to let you be the one to acquire the evidence for-- A: Wait no go back he tortured you? L: Move on, please, we already have. A: That means I'm... oh Force, I'm going to torture my own daughter what in the actual fu-- L: We're moving on.

(“I end up torturing my own daughter” If Leia’s feeling especially spiteful I can see her saying “you mutilate your own son too”)

Concept: Leia is very free with traumatizing details of her past re:Vader and Anakin thinks that it sucks but doesn’t think much of it bc Sith. And then some time later he finds out...

(I love characters who use the traumatizing details of their past to shut down conversations.)

It's such a wonderfully horrifying concept for him to try to awkwardly comfort this girl he kind of knows because having a Sith for a dad sounds like it would suck and Leia seems nice, even if she's kind of weird and uncomfortable around Anakin, but he saw her flinch around a few other tall people wearing black robes the way she stiffens around Vader so maybe it's just that!

It is not.

Vader does get a significant amount of medical treatment. Including a bunch of "holy shit, that's a lot of drugs" and similar. There is so much lightning damage.

hnnng I'm just really in love with the image of Tiny Tiny Leia sitting behind a desk for some fancy negotiation, the picture of professionalism, while Vader just stands behind her shoulder, looming, glaring expressionless death at whoever came to speak with his baby girl.

Not that he would call her that, because she'd just hate him more and he's really not sure how to fix that problem, other than doing whatever she asks with no complaints and hoping she appreciates it.

Vader: [looks at children wandering by, has complicated emotions] Leia, tired of his shit: What now? Vader: I killed them, once. Leia, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath: And you're not going to do that again. No killing children. Vader: I know that. Leia: Great. I am... regretting asking. I am so very much regretting asking.

I do really like the idea of someone asking Leia once if she wants Jedi training and she says, no, actually, she's fully aware of the fact that she's angry little ball of hate sometimes, especially towards her bio father, and she'd like to refrain from putting herself in a position where she knows enough about the Force to Fall. She wouldn't Fall. But it does make people shut up.

[ravenadottir]

Hreyooo, Which route do you think is the most fun? I don't know which one to play and I'm afraid to leave my boy Lucas in the hands of fate, I admit it. 🤠

heyooo! ooh, i love to do this route because of the responses we can get and my favorite is not about an LI but about a conduct (like i mentioned in this post a while ago)

((also if you're interested in which playthrough is the best for each li, IN MY OPINION, i wrote it down here))

hear me out: BURN THE VILLA.

i always start with rocco but kiss and flirt with the others every opportunity i get. after so many playthroughs i felt i deserved a little treat, and this one route i did was honestly the best!

so, let 's begin!

day 1 i choose rocco. truth and dare: noah. kiss rocco after if he's into it. pay the 5 gems to meet the second boy that's gonna chase you. i really don't pick anyone specific and sometimes will close my eyes when tapping the order of the boys on the first pick. i enjoy the surprise lol

every time one of the boys flirt or ask for reassurance, i'm openly flirting. i like hurting rocco and earning his side thing with marisol. besides, my mc doesn't care about it and even calls lottie out when she's angry about it.

slime challenge: i go bananas on everyone, catch every color, really go for it! and when being called out i always shrug and give the "i don't care" type of response.

whenever gary wants a kiss i give it to him. because my mc is living her best life in this one! besides, i side with priya to make lottie mad, mostly because she's being a hypocrite before casa amor.

when lucas and henrik enter the villa i flirt with both. it's simply too fun to not do it! when we go to the firepit i sit in between them and do my best to make them feel welcome. at the date i give everything to both, because there's going to be some angst once one of them leaves. it's just that little *spark* of extra flavor.

the tweet challenge is the perfect opportunity to spite everyone and call them out, especially lottie and hope. no one escapes this route, not even the girls.

when rocco leaves i share the bed with lucas/henrik. usually i let lucas stay in the villa because he's so prone to drama himself.

every time there's an opportunity i call the girls out. it's the pot calling the kettle black and it's fun to see them squirm when they're on their high horse. again, at the beginning, every girl has something going on for them on the side. lottie wants gary, priya wants noah, hope wants lucas and marisol wants rocco, so it's fun to just air the dirty laundry every time i can.

when choosing someone i go for gary. especially after telling lottie i wouldn't. it's her and lucas being extremely disappointed but this is not the time for pity.

operation nope is the apex of the first two weeks and of course i go for it. blatantly flirting with noah before my mc kisses him. again, this is my reward for taking everyone's shit in other playthroughs.

now, because i go for noah, he's gonna choose my mc and i'll definitely kiss him and say this is what i wanted, only to play around and flirt with ALMOST everyone in casa amor. carl is my main guy but i flirt with kassam as well! i just want lottie to regret herself on every gary playthrough *shrugs*

when coming down to the choice i bring carl. not that it matters who comes from casa amor, they all turn into the same person except for a couple of answers on challenges, so... not much loss there.

BUT, when hope asks me who i want to choose me, i say it's bobby. he goes for it because the decision is ours and that's great. we have elisa and jo coming in and i only throw gasoline in the fire when the altercation between shannon and jo happens.

after all that, i continue to give everyone else the time of day. on day 24, when henrik and hannah come back, i tell henrik i'm into him. i don't cheat on bobby though and here's why: if you do you have no other alternative but to stay with henrik, and what i really want is to kill jo's spirit. so i go for ibrahim at the last recoupling, after ending things with bobby after the challenge.

and yes, i do go for both chats on the roofterrace with noah and end up hooking up with him on day 29. it just makes sense ya know? why stopping?

because it doesn't matter what you do you always win, i choose to steal the money but i also don't go for noah either. my mc is alone by the pool at the end of the night, but she was the most popular character in the entire season, cause a stir every time she could and i honestly think she would live her best during those 30 days!

[anika-ann]

Just a Human (S.R.)

Type: mini-series turned one-shot, SHIELD recruit!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 8750

Summary: Being a SHIELD recruit was a dream come true, especially with people like Sergeant Barnes or Captain Rogers offering an input to your class’ training.

It was also hard work for many different reasons. One of them being all those guys around; not all of them were exactly fit to become heroes, simply because they were not good people.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed it out so openly though. Then again, what would the world turn into if you kept your mouth shut when feeling like speaking up?

WARNINGS: so-so graphic description of assault almost turned sexual, violence and a bit of blood, boys being boys in a real bad way, language

A/N: Steve Rogers vs assholes, round 2. Also, ‘you’ vs. assholes. And Bucky in the mix.

A/N: This was originally posted as a miniseries on AO3, but now edited, I decided to thrown it in as a long, sort-of three part one-shot. Enjoy and mind the warnings.

(gif source dailymcugifs, divider by firefly-graphics)

A Handful of Spite

“Can you believe the fucking nerve on him?!” Henry hissed, punching the bag harder and catching your attention. The statement was followed by his companion nodding grimly.

You tried to ignore the walking testosterone jerks; you never liked either Henry or Jim. The reason was simple – they were, as you loved to remind people, an advertisement on toxic masculinity. Bullies on top of that. The kind of people you wanted to avoid at all costs.

You weren’t that lucky to have that chance though.

So instead, you scoffed under your breath and continued your sit-ups series. You had more important things to do than wonder about what they were talking about this time.

It was your regular training session with the other SHIELD recruits led by Sergeant Barnes – which--- oh my. When joining the academy, you had no clue that the director’s ‘you’ll be learning from the best’ meant that of all things; trained by the more-than-once-believed-late James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone here knew his story – or at least some of it. The brainwashing. The murders. His heroics to make up for them as much as he could. His everlasting friendship and a nickname that was tied to it. Bucky; the very best friend of the oh-so-praised Captain America.

Oh, speaking of which, he joined the sessions too. You were being trained by not one, but two supersoldiers slash war heroes. You couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes, but you were not one to dwell on it. You just accepted it as a fact. An abso-fucking-lutely incredible fact.

“He’s just a fucker, man. Forget about Barnes, you have Cassie in your pocket. Just ‘cause he’s all sticky sweet on her doesn’t mean she’ll suck his-“

You made a disgusting face, pushing harder to tune out the conversation. You wanted to gag and at the same time, your blood was boiling.

Could there be a jerk who was objectifying women more than Jim? A guy who was using his lower brain more frequently than him? Doubtful. You really wanted to throw up at rubbish that was leaving his mouth.

Not to mention that he was throwing dirt on Sergeant Barnes who absolutely didn’t deserve it.

“-he’s like that to all of them. The chicks. And they fucking dig him, it’s disgusting. He makes the poor brainwashed kicked puppy face, reminding the sob story of his and they’re all dropping to their knees I swear…” Jim continued, practically spitting the venomous words.

You squeezed your eyes shut, half furious and half guilty; the sergeant did have a heart-breaking backstory and many girls were making eyes on him, their hearts softened by the tragedy and his bravery, yes. And you couldn’t say it wasn’t moving you as well, filling you with compassion – but compassion only. Obviously, Sergeant Barnes was objectively a very attractive man too, but what they were saying… ugh.

He didn’t deserve these insults; he was not trying anything on anyone, he wasn’t offering his ‘sob story’, actually being rather secretive about it for obvious and no doubt painful reasons. He couldn’t really couldn’t be blamed for the girls fawning over him a bit more because of it, could he? What was he supposed to do? Stop breathing? Stop doing what he chose to be his job?

It wasn’t his problem – and thank god for that – that these two assholes had egos the size of Texas and couldn’t handle a little competition.

Seriously. Walking testosterone-filled jerks. You seriously considered moving from the station you had been given, eyeing Captain Rogers, checking if he would notice.

“Well, he’s not. Getting. Any. From. My. Chick. Asshole!”

The bag swung wildly under Henry’s blows despite Jim holding it. You laid off, taking your fifteen second break.

“I bet he’s fucking them all on side. Always so… so soft on them. I bet he’s leaving all the hard shit for bed,” Jim snorted, somewhere between angry at him competition and amused at his own crude joke.

You were gonna puke. You were sure of it.

“And he’s too hard on us. Showing off for them. I would fucking want to see him holding up against us without that metal arm-“

You had enough. You sat up sharply, panting, your face flushed, unsure whether it was from the exercise or the exchange you were listening to.

“Are you serious?!” you hissed their way, earning their shocked glances.

And then, Jim’s face twisted in annoyance and disgust.

“Oh geez, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” he snarked, rolling his eyes. “The fangirls.”

More heat burned in your cheeks. You weren’t kidding anyone; both the sergeant and the captain had showed up in your not so innocent dreams, but you were only human, alright. There was only so much time you could spend with two very fine men like them in one room, a bit sweaty and rough (or just slightly gentler with the ladies) until your brain reacted. Mostly to the captain. Not the point.

But actually crossing the line? Being a part of the thing they were describing if it ever existed? Waiting in the line until one of them picked you for the evening with a promise to do it again after they… Jesus what, tried all the others? No, thank you. You had some dignity left.

Also, you simply couldn’t imagine them doing such thing. Raised in a different era, tried by war and pain and lost, yet remaining the great men they were? Just nope.

“No! Jesus, are you even listening to yourself?” you hissed, minding your volume. You hoped that the low hum of voice in the room, of others working out, giving each other pointers and the noise of the machines would offer you a cover from the rest of your companion.

“What, you wanna tell me they’re not going easy on you? On any chick, really?”

“Yeah, well, maybe because they don’t actually want to break our bones during training. Supersoldiers. Superstrength. Does that ring a bell?” you pointed out, reaching for your water bottle, hoping either of your trainers would forgive you when seeing you only took a sec to have a sip.

Henry scoffed, leaning onto the bag. “Sounds like someone has a crush…”

You couldn’t help the motion of your hands, inconspicuously throwing them in the air in frustration.

Why were you even speaking to them? You should have kept your mouth shut!

“Oh go to hell, Ulrich! You’re just jealous and scared that your girl whom you treat like a piece of shit will run off,” you murmured, wiping your forehead off sweat.

“Yeah, because they’re sure pulling their punches with guys too,” Jim complained again, rolling his eyes as Henry now watched you, eyes narrowed in anger – oh you hit a nail on the head, alright.

You couldn’t but mirror Jim’s action, deciding to stick to Devil’s advocate, because…. yeah, because it wasn’t fair to either Rogers or Barnes. They were good people and didn’t deserve this.

“So they’re not beating the shit out of us like they do with you, get over it.”

“They’re humiliating us! Showing off their big muscles, trying to impress all the chicks-“

You chuckled incredulously as they actually admitted the real reason behind their bitching so openly; as if you hadn’t known the whole time. Ego. Ohhh, the ego was bruised. Call 911, CPR is gonna be needed! God, how did they even live with ego this big? Compensating for something?

“They’re doing their job. Training. Yes, they go a bit harder on you, because your physiology can take it. Did it ever occur to you that they have bigger problems than entering a pissing contest with you just so they could steal the girls? Jeez… just… maybe try to be less of assholes and the girls will be into you too… ”

You missed the hard look Henry gave you, laying down again, this time on your belly to work on your back.

You wheezed when a knee suddenly dug into your back, violently and painfully knocking the air out of your lungs. Before you could react, one of your arms was twisted behind your back, Henry’s voice raspy right into your ear, low and dangerous.

“Listen, you little bitch, you don’t get to talk to me like that. Understand? Huh?”

He was so proving your point, but you didn’t have the time You tried to breathe in properly, and free your arm while pushing up on the free one, your muscles burning with the effort. Shit, he was heavy. You wheezed again instead of the answer.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie. What was that?”

Peripherally, you could see heavy boots approaching rapidly, making a quick guess of who that could be. You gritted your teeth, tears of humiliation pricking your eyes. You were not about to give Henry the satisfaction of proving his point of your trainers being sweet on all the girls even if this so wasn’t that.

“Screw. You,” you let out with the last oxygen left, grabbing his left calf and sharply tugging to the very same side. A half-second later when his weight of you eased just a fraction, you threw your body to the left as well, adding a jerk of your legs.

Both of you rolled over, him ending up under you and you quickly spun away, gasping, desperately fighting for air. As it burned your windpipe, it was as painful as welcomed. Little spots danced inf ornt of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away – luckily for you, Henry didn’t dare to attack you again.

You shook your head before pushing to sit up, only to meet with Captain Rogers’s strict gaze.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded, sharp blue eyes flickering between the three of you.

Maybe you were hallucinating, but he seemed to be murdering Henry with his eyes. Uh-uh. You would have been glad he was, hadn’t Henry been talking about favouritism only few moments ago. You pushed up simultaneously with him and you both stood straight, facing the captain.

“Apologies, sir,” you stated mechanically, his gaze immediately shifting to you. Your heart stopped. Oh wow, you would swear the blue of his irises was on fire. You gulped. “We had a slight disagreement with Mr. Ulrich. I’m aware I shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place. I’ll take whatever punishment is given to me.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d liked taking a punishment from him, wouldn’t you…” Jim muttered under his breath, making your gut twist in disgust.

Was he ever not thinking about sex? You prayed the captain didn’t hear him and you had to stop yourself from shooting Jim a murderous glare.  

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Consider it a warning. Mr. Ulrich? You have something to add before you take a few laps?”

You could literally hear Henry’s blood boiling. You opened your mouth to ask for the same punishment, not wanting to have his point proved. You never got the chance to speak.

“No, sir. I only don’t understand why I’m the only one being punished,” Henry questioned innocently and you gritted your teeth.

Maybe because you attacked me, you dickhead?

Captain glared at him for a moment before his gaze shifted to Jim. “You’re not. Mr. Larkin is following your example.”

You pressed your lips together, this time to stop a smile threatening to spread on your lips. God, who knew America’s Golden Boy could get that sassy? You cleared your throat.

“If I might speak, sir, I deserve to run the laps as well,” you noted carefully, earning a curious expression from your superior. You could tell he wavered, a strange spark appearing in his eyes.

You desperately wanted him to let you run too even if you breathing was still a bit difficult; because otherwise Henry would be proved right. Yeah, nope.

“Very well, then. Ten laps around the gym, recruits. Then you move to the station free at the moment. Go. Don’t let it happen again.”

The three of you nodded dutifully and picked up a pace. For some reason, you could feel the captain’s eyes on you while he walked back to assisting his friend with hand-to-hand training. You glimpsed the sergeant leaning to him, probably asking what was that about, but the blond just shook his head.

Towards the eighth lap, you were being overpassed by Henry and Jim, who ran together; faster than you, whether you liked it or not.

“This isn’t over, bitch,” his hateful hiss reached your ears and you picked up speed stubbornly, not showing them that they might intimidate you even for a second.

They wished.

Even when leaving the room after the session was finished, you would swear there was a pair of blue eyes burning a hole to the back of your head. You hoped that you’d soon be free of the captain’s attention.

You sure didn’t want him to watch too closely. You didn’t need him behind your back to see mistakes you sometimes made just like anybody else. Also, it would be harder to admire and ogle him; you did that occasionally, okay. You were just a human, after all.

A Handful of Mistakes

Shauna, your roommate and bestie from science division of SHIELD, was very patient listening to your lament about guys being dicks; she was awesome like that.

So you vigorously vented your frustration with male population, rolled your eyes when mimicking the silent threat of ‘this not being over’, had a very unhealthy piece of cake at the cafeteria that afternoon and moved on.  

You should have known better.

Henry’s words came haunting you few days later; which was too bad, because you had already forgotten about them, until the very moment they had punched you to the face.

…or rather to your shoulder and it wasn’t even a punch, more like one of those bumps people did, especially when they were being jerks, shoving you too hard for you to believe it was an accident.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” you threw over your shoulder sarcastically, continuing your way to the women’s locker room.

In hindsight, that was probably mistake number one; ignoring Henry and not starting a fight right there, not to mention being mouthy.

To be fair, you had no interest in further interaction; you were exhausted from the training, you were sticky and sweaty and all you craved was a shower. You would have just gone to have one at your dorm, but Shauna was having a hot date and you didn’t want to step on her toes. So you had taken your toiletries with you, using the showers near the gym.

Using the gym shower; mistake number two. It meant all of the students being gone by the time you emerged in fresh homey clothes, hair dripping water, because you hated hair-dryers and avoided them unless they were completely necessary.

You had spent much longer in the shower than needed, allowing your muscles to completely relax under the spray of water. That was mistake number three.

The fourth mistake was your pride. When you saw Henry, Jim, George (at least you thought, you weren’t sure, not having many classes with him) and Frank in the corridor, clearly waiting for you, since they bounced off the wall they had been resting against when you appeared, you should have probably been smarter and scream for help right away.

But no, you were being Miss Future Agent and you weren’t intimidated by four equivalents of high school jocks. Yep, this one was definitely the biggest mistake of yours.

“Fellas,” you beckoned to them, passing them gracefully, your bag over your shoulder along with the wet towel.

You barely made a few steps before a hand gripped your arm, harshly tugging you back. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you tried your best not to let it show. You turned to Henry, looking at his face, head tilted back just slightly due to his height.

“Is there a problem, Ulrich?” you asked calmly, earning a lift of his eyebrows at your tone.

“You know there is. I told you it was not over.”

You tried to ignore your pulse skyrocketing and the panic rising in your gut. You were not that stupid – you understood the implications. You knew that with four guys slowly circling you, you would have to fight bites and nails if it came to it and probably still lose. Sometimes it was just better to walk away and swallow your pride; a concept Henry and Jim clearly didn’t understand.

You jerked from Ulrich’s grip, still hoping you could walk away and call it day.

“It is over for me. Now if you’ll excuse me…“

Yes, you were being naïve thinking it would work.

The bag was torn away from your shoulder, your fingers automatically letting go to stay attached to your hand. You gritted your teeth, blood slowly reaching the boiling point.

Also, maybe you were more than just a bit afraid. Not that you would ever admit it to them.

Henry’s hand reached for your chin and your snatched it away in disgust before he could even make contact with your skin. Amusement dances in his eyes along with a flash of anger.

“Oh, kitty has claws?”

You felt another hand on your backside, sending a shudder up your spine, so you grabbed it, shoving it away as well.

Jim. Why weren’t you surprised? Pigs. What the fuck was their problem?

“I’ll let you know when I meet any. Now get out of my way,” you spat, your gut twisting as a sly grin spread on Henry’s face and he made a step right into your route.

“Or what? You’ll scratch, kitty? Or you’ll scream? Like a little girl?” he mocked you in high-pitched voice, his face lowering to yours so you were only inches apart.

“Bet you’d like that,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes when his breath with an unmistakable hint of alcohol fanned over your face. “No, I’ll offer you a breath-mint, because honestly you should do something about your breath.”

Yep, that was the mistake no.5 and definitely an enormous one.

You heard one of the guys chuckle, but you never got to enjoy the thrill of victory.

Out of blue, there was something around your neck, the weight of the towel shifting (add that to the mistake list) and your body flew backwards, colliding with a male one. George was it?

Your hands went to instinctively grab after the towel crushing your throat, but suddenly they were wrested down and pinned to your sides by strong arms. Jim had caught one, Henry another. Fucking cowards.

With your breath coming out short with both lack of oxygen and rising fear, your pulse thundering in your ears, you tried to jerk from their grip, but they wouldn’t budge, having an undeniable advantage.

Oh fuck, fuck, you were so fucked.

“Sassy little mouth, aren’t we?” Henry hummed, wry expression on his ugly face. “So dirty, feels like we should wash it with something. Who wants to go first, fellas?”

Loud alarm bells rang in your head, icy shiver running down your spine, stomach turning over.

Oh no, you don’t.

Your knee snapped up on instinct to gain the momentum, followed by a swift low kick to Jim’s knee.

He yelped and let go of your arm, allowing you to send an elbow straight to George’s face; and finally, your airways were free as the assault as the towel trap loosened.

You coughed, fighting for oxygen and mindlessly threw the item away to have at least one arm free.

“Bitch!” one of the men yelled; you weren’t sure which one, but you didn’t waste time thinking too much. Survival instinct took over.

Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes and you barely silenced the scream when Henry took advantage of your hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back. Fuck he really had a thing for that, didn’t he?

You tried to kick him, but someone else’s leg somehow managed to swept their leg under yours and you fell on your knees. Sharp tug on your hair caused you to cry out and obediently tilt your head back. Few tears escaped you, but you pushed up in attempt to get up again.

A kick coming from behind threw your body forwards and you nearly fell on your face when Henry finally let go of you. You tasted blood as you bit your cheek, but you managed to at least land on your shoulder instead of face-planting.

It still hurt like a bitch, but at least you still had all your teeth… or you thought so, not having time to check. Catching a movement from the corner of your eye, you managed to roll over before a kick to your side could hit you with full force. Frank’s foot only brushed you, but you were sure you’d have a bruise as a souvenir anyway.

A punch landed next to your face when you dodged it in the last moment, someone grabbing your legs and holding them together. Between your efforts to free them, you didn’t have time to chase away the body suddenly holding your arms as well.

“Fuck--- she’s a handful.”

A ragged battle cry erupted from your throat as you tried to jerk your body from their grip on pure instinct, every self-defence move you had ever learned flying of the window.

“More fun to break her, don’t you think?” Henry purred, his hand sneaking around your waist under the hem of your t-shirt.

Your head spun like crazy at the skin-to-skin contact and nausea hitting you hard. You wanted to puke and scream and punch and you couldn’t make yourself to do either, tears rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed in a desperate attempt to break free.

There was ringing in your ears, disorienting you, but aware of the hand suddenly covering your mouth you tried to bite it on instinct holding you down.

“Oh-ho, biting!“ you heard, strangely muffled as if you were under water.

“I like them feisty-“

“Playing hard to get!”

“Shit, SHIT-“

The pressure on your legs eased all of sudden and you immediately kicked with all you had, catching the rising figure in the calf, knocking them off balance.

“Fuck!”

You would swear the floor vibrated, but in must have only been your mind playing tricks on you. George disappeared from your field of blurry vision; you only saw a fist sending him flying sideways.

Yep, your mind was fucking making up things, because there was no way he could have been thrown away like this by a single punch. You weren’t complaining; the relief the illusion provided was almost blissful.

Henry’s body weight vanished as well in nearly supersonic speed as if he wanted to escape the illusion. So you did the first thing that came to your mind; with your hands free, you grabbed his ankle, stopping him from running away. Which, thinking about it, was stupid, because only a moment before, you would have given anything to get him the fuck away from you.

He kicked back blindly, but his sole never met with your body – he was dragged away and… and lifted to the air as if he weighted nothing.

Blinking your tears away, your fuzzy mind cleared.

Only to reveal a very muscled and very much pissed off blond slamming Henry against a wall and then letting his suddenly unconscious body slide down.

You gasped, your eyes catching a glimpse of the fourth figure – Frank – several feet away, running for his life.

“Buck?!” came a shout and before you could question it, a metal arm emerged from behind the corner, stopping Frank dead as he rushed straight into it.

“Yep?!” the dark-haired supersoldier yelled back, sounding almost amused.

What the hell was happening? What the hell just happened?!

You blood sizzled in your veins, loud and rapid thump-thump-thump banging in your ears, face damp with several shed tears, body aching and your mind fucking racing.

You heard a whimper on your left, automatically turning to the sound. It left Jim’s lips, his form crumbled on the floor, struggling to stand up.

The captain’s knee seemed to come out of nowhere, digging into Jim’s back and pinning him down again before you even registered a movement.

“Is it fucking over now?”

“Steve, let him be. Not worth it,” Barnes’ voice tried to reason, sounding rather growly, but not nearly as loud as before. He approached your group in rapid pace and Rogers scoffed and let go.

You gulped at sergeant’s angry grimace, crazily convinced he was angry with you for all the mistakes you made that lead to this; but his expression softened when his gaze fell on you.

“Hey there,” he greeted you almost casually, holding out a hand to help you up. “Can you stand?”

You blinked several times at the suddenly dispassionate tone, even if you still sensed something bubbling under it. You shook off the thought and accepted the offered hand – the flesh one. The detail didn’t escape you, your bran in overdrive. Of course he hadn’t offered you the metal arm. He didn’t want to scare you. He was thoughtful like that-

-or not. The strength he dragged you up with was way too much for you, more so when combined with the speed and your state. You stumbled over your feet, a wave of dizziness messing with your balance.

You awaited the upcoming reunion with the floor, unable to stop the fall, but it never happened. Before you could as much as reel, gentle hands supported you in a firm grip, pleasantly warm against your bare arms.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Rogers’ voice warned you, soothing. For some reason, it felt more like ‘I got you,’ instead of ‘take it easy.’

You took a deep breath, Barnes’ hand letting go of yours as he semi-voluntarily handed you over to his friend.  

“You’re bleeding from your mouth.”

Thanks for the reminder, I noticed.

You swallowed the snarky remark, well-aware of the sergeant’s care. You fought against the urge to spit the blood out.

“Is fine…” you muttered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Bit my cheek. I’m pretty sure I—“ you quickly ran your tongue over your teeth just to confirm your theory, “-still have all of my teeth.”

Sergeant Barnes gave you a tiny smile, the worried crinkle that had found its way between his brows disappearing.

“Whatever you say.”

His gaze flickered to something behind your head, probably in order of exchanging a wordless conversation with your still present crutch. Not that you were complaining. The weight of what had happened was slowly settling on your shoulders and you were grateful for any support – and who were you kidding, Captain America made for a pretty reliable support.

“Why don’t we leave you in pu- Cap’s capable hands while I-“ Barnes’ jaw clenched, pale eyes scanning the four bodies on the floor, calculating. “-take out the trash?”

You nearly choked at the choice of his words, wincing. Captain Rogers’ hands squeezed your shoulders reassuringly and you nodded, not sure what else to do.

You didn’t want to look at Henry. Or Jim. Or their loyal companions.

So when the captain carefully spun you on your heels, you didn’t protest and your feet started moving on autopilot in the direction he had set.

“You okay to walk without support?” he asked softly, a stark contrast to the voice you remembered from earlier or from the training sessions.

You knew that if you said yes, he would let go of you. Honestly, his touch felt damn nice, firm and yet somewhat gentle, a pleasant contrast to harsh fingers of the men who had the nerve to attack you – you had to swallow bile rising to your mouth at the awfully fresh memory. Fuck, it had been so close, just a minute later and--- you shook your head mentally and tried your best to erase this memory from existence.

You decided not to abuse the kindness the captain was offering. After several indulging steps, you quietly confirmed he could release you. You found out that sensing his large frame by your side as if he was your bodyguard was nearly as comforting. Nearly.

You didn’t have the strength admonish yourself for basking the light of his protective persona. Future agent of not, you still had the right to want to feel secure at times.

After all, you were only human.

A Handful of Truths

You didn’t realize you were shaking until a blanket was tossed over your shoulders.

You were sitting on a short couch in what looked like a cosy office, hair still damp, body finally registering the ache caused by previous events, just like your brain was slowly taking in what had happened.

Captain Rogers, whose courtesy was to escort you from the hellhole you had been attacked in, had clearly took it as a personal mission to take care of your injuries; it hadn’t dawned to you until you were seated and your mind helpfully supplied you with ‘This isn’t the infirmary’.

He pulled a swivel chair to sit face to face with you, a box of medical supplies left open on the coffee table at your side. You didn’t realize he had moved the chair or dug the box from god-knew-where until the items were simply there.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, attentive eyes scanning your hunched form. You instinctively curled onto yourself, snuggling further into the blanket. You knew you should come up with an answer, but your brain started to hurt with the effort to do so. “I guess that’s fair. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”

You quickly glanced at his openly kind face, his baby blues still watching for any reaction that would clue him. Your throat went dry at the compassion of display and you had to swallow before speaking – and think. What hurt the most…?

You didn’t know what possessed you to tell him what you did, but it came out before you could stop yourself.

“My pride,” you croaked, causing his eyebrows jump just like the corner of his lips.

“That’s probably fair too. Then again, I’d rather know about something I can fix.”

You felt your body relax a little at his informal tone – you might even say a jovial one, but you could still sense too much worry behind it to call it that. You attempted a tiny smile at least to show him that you were more or less fine – you weren’t – and brilliantly failed.

“Landed on my shoulder. Probably gonna have a bruise on my side from when… when they kicked me. Ribs and arms might be a bit tender for few days, ‘cause they were heavy as they--- they’re heavy,” you voice wavered as you saw the muscles on the captain’s forearms clench and his hands curled up in fists. You sheepishly looked up to his face. “I got lucky.”

His eyebrows rose again in a ‘figures’ manner as he leaned back to the chair.

“Nothing else apart from that, your cheek and your pride?”

“I’m a little cold, but you took care of that,” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you tugged on the blanket pointedly.

Despite what you were saying, you didn’t feel okay, the tremble never quite leaving your body. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. You stared at your knight in shining armour, gathering courage to do what was needed. You tried your best to meet his gaze, feeling so small and embarrassingly weak in front of him.

“Could have been much worse if you haven’t showed up. Thank you.”

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He leaned in, his elbows on his knees.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster... I should have kept closer eye on Ulrich,” he muttered under his breath, making you wonder if you only imagined it. “Your pride shouldn’t be hurt. You held yourself against them just fine.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the honestly his voice held – and you were honestly grateful for the slight shift of attention. Oh. Had he forgotten how things had been when he had arrived?

You weren’t sure whether you should remind him. You definitely didn’t want to remind yourself, but before you could solve your little dilemma, he clarified.

“You haven’t started training the combat against multiple opponents yet. Let alone four opponents, all of them having both height and weight advantage. You couldn’t exactly go all Black Widow on them if no one showed you how.”

He accented his words with a reassuring smile and you almost believed him. The shivers finally eased, most likely thanks to the warm treatment you were being given in all senses of the word. The inner cold gradually melted and you were left in nothing but pleasant warmth.

Mentally, you patted your pride gently on its head; you couldn’t quite disagree with him. No matter how helpless you had felt earlier and how ashamed for it you were, the truth was you were still learning. You weren’t a finished agent yet.

You breathed in and out, avoiding the gaze that was still on you. It felt like a freaking brand with how intense it was. You couldn’t say you hated it necessarily, you only wished you at least didn’t look so pathetic. No make-up, probably red with a smudge on blood somewhere, perhaps with some bruising already forming, hair wet and messy. You absently ran your fingers through it in attempt to fix it a bit as if it could help.

What had you been talking about? Right… those assholes being cowards and coming at your four against one.

“I… I just fucking hate bullies,” you grumbled darkly, your hand immediately covering your mouth when you realized what you had said. Oh. Language. Still your superior you’re talking to, no matter how nice. “Sorry. Please, pretend you didn’t hear the f-word. I just hate bullies, period.”

“I might have sworn earlier too, so let’s call it even,” the captain offered, one corner of his lips raised. Oh. He had, hadn’t he? ‘Is it fucking over now?’ What did that even mean? “And so I heard.”

“What?” you yelped, your mind racing again in search for the meaning behind his words.

“I mean… I heard you. When you were defending Bucky, in the gym. I’m pretty sure your exact words were about a ‘pissing contest’.”

“Oh god,” you breathed out, your face no doubt set aflame. He had heard you; that was why he had said he should have kept a closer eye on Henry. Oh. Ohhhh.

Also, did he just say ‘pissing’?

“You weren’t wrong by the way. But… neither were them.”

You blinked in surprise. What? “About?”

You knew he didn’t mean the sleeping around with recruits, your gut was screaming that at you, because they wouldn’t, but still, you rather asked for clarification. If he didn’t mean that part, which one then?

“Ladies do fall over for Bucky,” he hummed with a lopsided smile, a playful twinkle in his eyes. It did something to your belly, a strange familiar shift that was very inappropriate, but hell, people needed to cut you some slack. He was impossible not to ogle and you didn’t have the energy to control your reaction after today’s events. “And I don’t really pull my punches when I’m training those two in particular.”

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and think better of it.

His gaze bored into yours, burning with intensity and with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I don’t like bullies either.”

Did he lean in even more or were you so focused on his face it only seemed closer?

You weren’t able to look away. His blue eyes simply locked you in, not allowing you to escape. The strangest thing was that it wasn’t scary. It should be, he was— he was a freaking captain, your superior, a superior to a lot of people, which you were constantly forgetting ever since he had saved you from falling on your ass in the hallway and you had to remember that.

Before you could though, your racing mind packed up and let your body, your mouth to be precise, act without supervision.

“Not trying to impress the ladies then, huh?”

His tiny sheepish smile cut off the uprising panic in your chest when you realized how bold of you was to say that. He lowered his gaze, giving a subtle shrug. “Guess I wouldn’t want one falling for guy’s muscles and a show-off of dominance.”

“What for then? Honesty? Sincerity? Kind eyes? Strong moral compass?” you heard yourself prying, internally horrified how far you had come when saying that. Your face was drained of colour when it clicked. You were literally naming things you liked about him, absolutely shamelessly putting them in the open. Oh shit. Fix it, fix it, fix it! “…the sass?”

His eyes went wide and he burst out laughing so loud it startled you for a second, especially as he threw his head back with the outburst. Then you reluctantly joined him, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“The sass!” he howled, unable to hold back another fit of laughter and when you peeked at him through between your fingers, you saw his palm resting against his chest as if it could help him stop laughing.

Just like that, blood rushed back into your cheeks.

“Oh god, I made it worse!” you cried out, wishing for the earth to swallow you, frantically looking around for the fastest escape route. “Oh my god, I have to switch schools now… excuse me-“

You hastily got up from your seat, but a quick hand snatched yours, pulling you back.

You stumbled, landing ungracefully right back in your place, this time without the blanket. Captain Rogers was watching you with the corners of his lips high, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry for grabbing you like that. But no, please. Stay.”

Your throat closed off when you heard his soft plea, only traces of humour in it. Yeah, you bet he hadn’t met anyone with such big mouth for a while, so he thought it was better to keep the comic around.

“Captain Rogers, I-I- what I said, it was completely out of line-“ you stuttered, only to be interrupted.

“Were you making it up?” he questioned.

You gulped, your mind screaming at you to say yes to save you the humiliation. And yet, with the cerulean irises staring into your eyes, your mouth did the exact opposite.

“No.”

Dammit.

“Then why would you go?” he questioned softly. His hand still didn’t leave yours, only easing the grip into a kinder one. You felt like a brand was being burned into your skin. A pleasant one, so you didn’t retreat. Oh, you’d never. But what on Earth was he getting at? “We need someone honest like you. People who stand up for others, even if only to defend their honour. That is the kind of people who should be in this line of work. The good ones.”

You opened your mouth, no sound coming out as his speech shook you to your core, tickling your stomach pleasantly along with your pride. His words seemed to be coming from heart, genuine, which was not helping your blood pressure and suddenly wobbling limbs.

“Even when they have potty mouth and put their foot in it? ‘Cause I seem to excel in that.”

“Especially then,” he chuckled and you could tell there was no pinch of a lie in it.

Something was in the air, crackling deliciously, and you liked it. You wouldn’t be able to describe it properly, the feeling simply too unique, but it was tickling your fancy so weren’t about to complain.

“O-okay. Thank you, Captain,” you whispered, revelling in the sight of the gentle curve of his lips.

“You started with the compliments, Agent.”

And just like that, you wanted to run for your life again, drowning in embarrassment.

What were you even still doing here? Complimenting him? Enjoying his touch? Flirting with him?

Were you nuts?!

Him, a captain— no, the captain. And you, an agent--- hell, you were not even an agent yet!

The captain whose eyes flickered to not-an-agent’s lips for the shortest of moments, widening a fraction before returning to her eyes.

Oh, now you were definitely going nuts. You were hallucinating. You must have hit your head too. He wasn’t into you and you being into him was very stupid.

You should go.

…any moment now.

…just get off your ass for god’s sake-

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked yourself back to reality, shushing the voice in your head, curious smile appearing on your lips involuntarily. The softness of his voice felt better than the blanket before and you wanted to cocoon yourself in it, postponing the leaving plans to never.

“Sure,” you replied, the smile remaining on your face despite your better judgement.

He lowered his eyes to your joined hands, his thumb running over the back of your hand in a feather-light touch. You heart positively stopped at the moment, your breath hitching. Holy shit, what was he doing?

“This, does it… do you hate it?” he whispered the question, not meeting your eyes as if he was too shy, which was… ridiculous. He had no reason to be shy.

It still felt like a shot through your heart – a nice one, though, it that was possible. The words combined with the way they were spoken, it stirred something in your belly, warming it up and you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You really wanted this man; whatever this was, it was getting beyond a silly crush. Also, for some reason, it seemed as if he was trying to tell you he was interested too, which you thought was pretty freaking crazy.

“Stay honest, please,” he pleaded when you didn’t answer right away.

Did you hate it? The chastest display of affection if you dared to call it that? Your mind raced, trying to figure out why on earth he would ask that. Because the only reason you had come up with so far was completely impossible.

“No,” you said simply, earning a brief glance up before he looked down again. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Good. That’s good… and would you… I’m aware this is out of line and I—I want you to answer truthfully without fearing the consequences-…“

It was your turn to swallow loudly, because what? What did he want to ask that he considered it out of line? He was your superior – you could think of thousand ways of how you could get out of line, but him? And why should you fear the consequences?! Did he want you to help him to hide a body?

That’s not it and you know it. You know what he wants to ask, you rational side admonished you.

Oh please, shut up. Since when you switched sides?

“O-okay. What— what is it-- Steve?” you stuttered out, freezing when his name left your lips and his head snapped up, his hand giving yours a squeeze. Oh boy.

“Would you possibly say you like it?” he blurted out and your brain went to overdrive at the hope behind his expression.

Huh. He really just asked that. Oh shit. Oh wow. Your jaw fell into your lap – only figuratively, you hoped –, your ears buzzing, your blood bursting in excitement.

Oh yeah, you understood why he mentioned the consequences. Either you could say no and you’d fear he might treat you differently or you could say yes and you’d ‘fear’ he might treat you differently.

The fire in your insides burned hotter at the idea of the latter.

His hand slowly left yours, giving you a simple choice you still couldn’t believe you were given.

Holy shit. What do you even say to something like that? Coming from someone like him? Your brain froze as you only managed to stare.

Did his— did the corners of his lips turn down? Was that sadness pooling in the sea of blue of his eyes?

Oh no, you don’t.

“Y-yes,” you admitted sheepishly, closing your eyes at the heaviness of your confession.

You could feel the weight on your shoulders as silence fell, only interrupted by your soft breathing that sounded ominously loud.

Your fingers twitched when his warm palm covered them again, your lips parting in surprise. You kept your eyes closed, indulging the strange moment. His free hand caressed your other as well, the gentlest of touches, tender, contrasting with rough callouses on his fingers.

“I like it too.”

At that, you gathered enough courage to look at him, only to see him inspecting your face closely, observing your reactions. It shocked you that it wasn’t uncomfortable as you would expect; must have been the kindness and wonder in his gaze. You forced your lips to curl up in a tiniest smile. Steve smiled back with same hesitance, his face lighting up.

He looked like a boy next door (making it to a modelling agency), shining eyes and happy grin forming on his lips. He was more gorgeous than ever.

Still keeping your hands, he raised his right one, his knuckles brushing your unharmed cheek. The gesture was so tender it brought tears into your eyes, causing him quickly retreat.

“Sorry-“

You shook your head with a self-deprecating chuckle, squeezing his fingers before he could let go of you completely.

“It’s not you—I mean… it is you,” you babbled nonsensically, taking a breath to gather your thoughts. “It’s just— that was really sweet. No, that’s not-“ Not the right word. “It was beautiful. I swear I never felt so…” loved “-cared for in my life.”

He frowned, a shadow of pain running over his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that today was… unpleasant.”

Seeing his reluctance and discomfort, you went for the first thing that came up to your mind. You straightened up and pressed a light kiss on his cheek, withdrawing much slowly because once you were in his orbit, it was hard to leave.

His breath hitched, his eyes glued to you intently, flickering to your lips again.

“You didn’t upset me, Steve. That’s the last thing you could do with that,” you assured him, face still inches from his. His name rolled off your tongue easily this time, even though it still left your heart fluttering.

“And if I asked you to have dinner with me?”

Your stomach twisted in a pleasant knot at that suggestion, your lizard brain already thinking about having a dessert for a second; and you weren’t thinking cake or ice-cream.

Yeah, barely. This was a guy ready to treat you right, you were sure of it. He certainly wasn’t about to kiss you now, not afar what happened today, he might go for it after the dinner and that was only if you got lucky enough. You swallowed the disappointment at the idea, quickly shaking it off.

Make up your goddamn mind, woman. You should be glad that men who weren’t thinking with their lower brain still existed and one of those was clearly interested in you, which… yeah, what the hell, that might take a while getting used to. Add the fact that he was being incredibly considerate of how you might feel after being assaulted and you had a winner of your heart. You realized you were actually happy he wouldn’t try anything even nearly ‘funny’.

You were fine with hand-holding and brushes of his fingers on your face, which honestly, the tenderness behind that gesture made you toes curl. You didn’t care much if that made you a freaking sap.

“Still not upset,” you gave an answer at last, deciding he probably liked when you were a bit cheeky.

He offered a closed lipped smile in response, confirming your theory.

“Does that count like a yes?”

You shrugged, the corners of your lips twitching. You had no idea when the change had happened, but all you wanted now was to giggle. And maybe snuggle, but you weren’t about to say that out loud.

“You tell me.”

He licked his lips and shook his head as he retreated. Before you could protest – or have a heart attack, because the motion of his tongue attracted your gaze like a magnet, setting your core on fire –, he sat beside you, leaving enough space in case you didn’t like it.

You liked it, subtly moving an inch closer to his side. Damn, he radiated warmth. Maybe just a bit closer…?

“Cheeky dame, aren’t you?” Steve more stated than asked, reaching for the blanket pooled around you to cover you again.

You didn’t realize you had goosebumps before his hands gently tugged you in, careful not to touch you where you could consider it inappropriate.

Yeah, forget about any funny business any time soon.

You huffed. “Clearly. It did get me into trouble before.”

His eyes darkened a bit, his face noticeably falling.

No, nope, bad move, miss not-an-agent.

“I should walk you back to your dorm,” he remarked, already rising to his feet.

You first reaction was to say no, because you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Your second was to say no also, because Shauna probably still had her hot date.

Instead, your hand shot up to catch his, effectively stopping him. He froze before returning to his seat, tiny question mark in a place of his face right next to his soft smile.

You cleared your throat, deciding to give him the latter reason.

“Uhm… my roommate has a date. If I go there, I’ll probably find a sock on the doorknob,” you admitted, biting your lip when he raised an eyebrow and relaxed to the cushions.

“People still do that?”

You chuckled, the fact that not only he was a captain, but also Captain America, which meant he was about hundred years old, hitting you like a train.

“Yeah, people still do that,” you assured him, amused.

He pouted, which you found unfairly adorable and… kissable. Nope, later.

“Sure, make fun of the old man…” he uttered, but a spark of laughter lighted up in his irises, so you assessed he wasn’t too offended. He was most likely used to the teasing.

As an idea of interpreting his words differently popped in your mind, you grinned.

“Is that a permission to make fun of Sergeant Barnes?” you pried playfully, sending Steve into another surprised fit of laughter, not unlike when you had complimented his sass. Your heart swelled at the joyful picture of him and the prospect of seeing more of it in future.

Due to his laughter, you didn’t hear he knock on the door if there was any n the first place. The door simply swung open, revealing the other supersoldier. Speak of the Devil…

Seeing his friend, Steve burst out laughing once more. Sergeant Barnes closed the door with a puzzled look.

You just shrugged in response, opening your mouth without a sound coming out and he took in the scene in front of him again, a smirk appearing on his lips. Under that gaze, you felt your face heat up. You could only imagine how that looked like, Steve cosily close to you, laughing, your hand right next to his thigh as his outburst had sent it sliding from his hand.

The smirk on the supersoldier’s face only deepened when he noticed how flustered he had made you.

“Punk?” he questioned and Steve wheezed once more, raising a palm in the sergeant’s direction, turning to you first.

He offered you a hand to shake. Confused, you accepted as his eyes twinkling in mischief bored into yours.

“Deal,” he mouthed, sending your lips twitching, and only then he shifted his attention to his friend. “Buck?”

The supersoldier had his eyes narrowed, watching you suspiciously.

“I’m gonna regret sending you with her instead of doing it the other way around, aren’t I?” he stated, not actually asking as his gaze flickered between the two of you.

His expression pushed you over the edge and the giggle building up in your chest for the last few minutes finally broke free. You simply couldn’t contain it anymore despite having two superiors in the room. Steve gave you a warm smile as the sound left your lips, clearly not bothered by it.

You hoped you’d be forgiven by Sergeant Barnes as well. After all, you were just human.

“Yeah, Buck, I think you are.”

S.R. masterlist

Sorry for the cavities at the end. Or should I say ‘you’re welcome’? Whatever works for you :))

Thank you for reading! 

[wave0fg00dvibes]

Baby - Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer’s daughter tries to tell him that she’s “not a baby anymore.” He doesn’t take it too well.

A/N: I’M FREAKING BACK, BABY! It has been so long and I’m so very sorry. Here is some tooth-rotting fluff for y’all because I love you. I actually wrote this for the lovely @thekatherinewinchester​ as a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, and it was SO fun to write. It also really helped me to have a deadline. I think I’m going to try to do that more often!

Please leave feedback if you have any! Lots and lots and LOTS of love, as always.

Category: FLUFF

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 1.7K

------------------------

The first time our daughter attempted to assert her independence, she had just turned 6 years old.

A morning routine with two young children was often chaotic, to say the least. However, the first day of school was always a special one. For some reason, something about this particular September morning made me extra grateful and reflective, even among the disarray. 

1 ½ year old Grayson sat in his highchair, babbling nonstop. Though he had only just started eating his applesauce, it completely covered his face and arms. Before I knew it, he was using his spoon to fling the food onto the floor. 

Was that an issue on the top of my priority list right now? Nope.

Ava sat at the kitchen table, swinging her legs and eating her cereal with the enthusiasm of an excited 1st grader. Her polka dot dress and matching headband were neatly and meticulously adjusted, revealing the hidden nerves within her initial excitement.

The small TV on the counter was tuned into the local news, though no one ever really listened. Even if anyone wanted to pay attention, Grayson’s babbling would probably drown it out anyway. It was mostly just background noise. But, selfishly, I liked to know the state the world was in before my husband left our home each morning to go make it better, safer. I liked to at least have some idea of what he was going to encounter, even if it meant certain days were filled with anxiety and worry. 

Dealing with the unease and stress was a small price to pay for the unceasing love and immeasurable happiness.

To be honest, I never imagined a world where I’d be simultaneously getting our children ready for the day and scrambling eggs for Spencer as he slept in after a long night of work. I never imagined his severe, draining job would let us have even a sliver of happy domesticity. But, as I scraped the last of the eggs onto his now-full plate, I reflected on how lucky the universe had deemed us. This shouldn’t be a reality, and yet, I couldn't imagine our life together any differently.

“Mama?” The voice of my sweet girl snapped me out of my reflective moment. 

“What is it, Ava?” I asked, momentarily pausing my motions. She turned around in her chair to face me, eagerness lighting up her small face.

“I’m really excited to go back to school.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She truly was her father’s daughter in every capacity.

“I’m so glad! You’re going to have an amazing day!”

Her bright, golden eyes sparkled, and she turned back to finish her cereal.

Spencer would definitely be up soon. There was no way he was going to miss the sendoff of his favorite girl on her first day of 1st grade.

There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that Ava was going to blow all of her teachers away. I insisted on keeping her in kindergarten for her first year of school so she could make friends and get used to that type of social environment, but now that she was starting more difficult content, I knew all bets were off. She was absolutely going to skip grades, make breakthroughs, and undoubtedly change the world. 

But, thankfully, that was a conversation for another day, and one Spencer was undoubtedly going to have to help me through.

At that very moment, my sweet husband rushed into the kitchen, fastening his tie as he jogged. Even in his disheveled haste, the elation in his face and pep in his clumsy steps revealed that he was just as excited about this day as Ava, if not more.

Grayson babbled in the happiest tone he could muster at the sight of his daddy, and I couldn’t help but smile right along with him.

“Good morning, buddy!” Spencer smiled, crouching to meet Grayson’s eye level and pinch his chubby, applesauce covered cheek.

The tiny gesture took me back to a time when Spencer’s cares and worries were much different. Back then, he would never have thought to voluntarily reach for the grubby face of an infant, no matter how cute. But, six years and two kids later, this was a beautiful reminder of how much we had both changed, and how lucky we were to grow together and not apart. 

However, in true Spencer Reid fashion, as soon as he was done making silly faces at our son,  he padded over the sink to rid his hands of the sticky, grimy applesauce.

Everything may be different now, but some things never change. 

As I packed Ava’s lunch, I felt his eyes on me from behind. Before I knew it, he lightly turned me away from my task and wrapped his arms completely around me, leaning down to rest his head on my shoulder.

“Thank you.” He softly whispered.

Forgetting the rush of the morning for a moment, I let myself sink into the embrace. For though our lives plowed forward at seemingly a million miles an hour, moments like these kept me grounded, sane. 

“For what?” I asked.

“The extra sleep. The food. The babies. Everything.” 

The case they returned from last night must have been a nasty one. Spencer was a very affectionate person, but something about this profession felt heavier. 

Nevertheless, even after so many years, he still had the ability to make my heart skip a beat.

I pulled back from the hug to smile up at him, running my hands up his arms to get lost in his hair. His eyes reflected utter joy and gratitude, despite the fact that he had undoubtedly seen some horrifying things for the past few days. 

“I love you so much.” The words flew out before I could stop them. Of course, I meant them with my whole heart, the phrase just seemed so mundane compared to my ever-growing, aching love for him. 

The love in his eyes and sparkle in his smile told me he knew. He always knew.

He pressed a slow, firm kiss to my lips, hands coming to rest gently on my hips as we slowly swayed together. 

“I love you too.” He whispered, and before I could fully savor it, the restless world started turning again. 

Stealing moments with him would forever make my heart sing, but today needed to be about our sweet girl and nothing else. After all, according to her the first day of 1st grade marks the “beginning of the true educational journey.” Lord knows we couldn’t miss a second of that.

Spencer quickly walked over to the plate I had ready for him, setting it across from Ava at the table and kissing her head as he passed.

“Good morning, baby! Are you excited for your first day?”

Ava was silent. I felt the air in the room change as she put down her spoon and looked up at him, features completely serious. Somehow, I knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth, and Spencer was not going to like it.

“Daddy. I am not a baby.”

As expected, Spencer choked on the small piece of egg he had just attempted to swallow. In spite of the sad punch of the reality that my sweet girl was growing up, I nearly snorted, covering my mouth with my hand so as to not offend her.

Spencer looked absolutely dumbfounded.

“But, you are technically my baby-” He attempted to explain.

Ava was not having it. She took a deep breath, pushing her bowl of lucky charms aside so she could fold her hands in front of herself on the table. 

“The term ‘baby’ is applied to infants from birth to the age of 1, and then sometimes to toddlers from ages 1 to 4. I am 6 now, daddy, so technically I have already let you get away with it for an extra year.”

Oh, my girl. What a little firecracker she was. No one in the entire world besides her could silence Dr. Spencer Reid with one sentence.

Spencer sat there at a loss for words, fork still in hand, clearly trying to formulate a coherent sentence. 

“But…”

The school bus pulled up in front of our house with impeccable timing. 

“Ava honey, the bus is here!” I gladly interrupted, shoving the lunchbox into her backpack and zipping it up.

Her poor father. I had never seen his jaw drop for so long before. 

But, as always, there was no time to unpack in the current moment. That would have to be a later conversation. 

Ava excitedly got down from the table, running to put her dishes in the sink before grabbing her backpack and putting it on with complete elation. I lifted Grayson from the highchair, quickly wiping off his applesauce-covered face with the ratty old t-shirt of Spencer’s I was wearing. By that time, Spencer had slightly snapped out of his trance in order to help Ava put on her sparkly converse shoes and matching coat. 

The four of us were greeted by the autumn breeze as we stepped out onto the front porch. Spencer and I instinctively bent down to simultaneously kiss her cheeks, and she hugged our necks with the fervor of all the love in the world. She gave Grayson a small cheek kiss as well before turning away to start her new educational adventure.

“Have the best day, sweet girl!” I yelled after her as she sprinted down the driveway to the bus. She waved in reply. Though I couldn't have been prouder of her, I couldn’t help but notice the new missing piece of my heart that seemingly got on the school bus with her. 

It was at that moment that I realized Spencer hadn’t said a single word since his baby proclaimed otherwise. He still looked like he had seen a ghost.

“You alright there, old man?” I playfully nudged him with my shoulder, bouncing Grayson on my hip. 

“But she… she is my baby…”

I smiled, knowingly, trying to hide the small pain that struck my heart at the thought of Ava growing up. There were no words I could say that would calm his racing heart in the moment. So, I held our smallest baby a little bit tighter and leaned up to lightly brush my lips against Spencer’s.

“I know. Me too.”

[furiosity-wills-the-cat]

Mettaton’s Backstory:

This is part two of my ghost meta. I’d highly recommend reading part one first, which should be right below this post on my blog. It’s titled “Chara, The Fourth Blook Cousin” and it has the background for how I think ghost might work.

I mostly talked about Undertale ghosts in general and how they could explain Chara’s mysterious presence in the game, but now I want to talk about Mettaton, Maddy and Napstablook, and explain my thoughts on their backstories, why they’re different from other ghosts, how they became a family. Because I think about them literally nonstop

METTATON

He is the baby of the cousins (until Chara comes along)

Ghosts dont age (unless they become corporeal) and the cousins (again except Chara who’s like 12) are all basically in their twenties, but MTT is slightly younger than Maddy and Blooky

And also he was formed extremely recently compared to them

I’ll explain them in depth later but they've both got a few centuries and Mettaton is like,, 70

Literally even Chara was formed longer ago than he was, but Chara doesn’t get adopted by the Blook family for a few decades so he joins first

So Mettaton is in this infuriating state where he is old enough to be losing track of years and struggling to keep up with technology and memes

But at the same time he talks to his cousins and they're like “Infant. Baby Boy. Imagine keeping track of what decade it is, you're so small”

He ends up being the self-designated cousin in charge of keeping track of time and pop culture and whatnot out of spite

He’s like “I’ll never forget what's relavent, its not because i’m baby, its just because i am better than you”

Tiny recap from my previous post- I think ghosts are formed when monsters die while completely unsatisfied,

the ghosts have no memory of who they were and they don't have souls unless and until they become corporeal, but they get their personality and some habits from whoever they were

And mettaton starts out being completely obsessed with this

He wants to know who he was and what life mission he left unfinished

He’s like “its gotta be super important because the universe literally made me immortal so i could finish it”

But figuring it out is… hard

It can take ghosts years to form after someones death and theres just so many monsters its impossible to narrow it down

When he does research he makes a lot of friends with monsters who have recently lost loved ones and he actually gets really good at talking to them and listening to their stories and letting them vent

This is a huge part of the reason he never starts to fade or sink into depression like most ghosts do at first, because he has people to talk to who need him

But also while doing research, he realizes that there’s no one he can find who he WANTS to be?

He’s like “yeah these all seem like they were cool monsters when they were alive but none of them seem like me?”

He has little hints of who he was, he knows he hates being alone and needs people near him always, he knows he’s super curious about learning about other people and reading dramatic stories and listenifn to gossip,, and he is for some reason extremely curious about humans, he knows he loves the color pink and the concept of the stars,,, but like,,, none of those are a life mission,,, they're just little quirks

So anyway like a year in to becoming a ghost, he is being emo and crying about this in waterfall when Maddy finds him and is like “shut up, youre scaring the snails” and he’s like “fight me right now… OH MY GOSH ARE YOU HOLDING A SNAIL THATS THE CUTEST THING EVER”

Maddy and Blooky do not invite him to join their family, he literally adopts himself

He is like. Lovely. Pretty farm. I live here now. I am building a house. I work here now. You are both my cousins.

And they just accept it.

He doesn’t ever really introduce himself to them officially?

He’s still convinced he needs to know who he was, so he’s kind of terrified of having his own opinion on his name or gender or anything because what if he’s wrong?

They both try to ask him who is is or anything about him but he’s just like “Nope Nope Nope, you are not allowed to percieve me yet. Give me attention but do Not perceive”

But he is happy to talk about the snails and to listen about how to care for them

Also he wants to learn more about ghosts because most other ghosts are just little lumps of sadness and regret who dont rlly talk so he tries to like,,, just lay on the floor in blooky’s house and see if theyll tell him things,, or he’ll just bother them until they tell him things

Blooky is the one who introduces him to music, and its mostly by accident

Mettaton is like,, actually fascinated by Blooky’s love of music and is like,, “wait IS it fulfilling? Is THIS what you died to do? Is it your greater purpose? Does it make your life worth living and make everything right and the stars align as you realize who you were before??”

And Blooky is like “I like… drum… sticks go click click and it is nice…”

And Mettaton is like “fascinting.. tell me more.”

So thats how Mettaton gets music lessons from Blooky

He also encourages them to play their music for others and start a band

Which Blooky ends up loving so so much

They dont like talking to strangers but they love performing, its a completely different energy

and thats also how mettaton is introduced to performance

And he’s like “oh. Oh ho ho. This is pretty nifty”

So anyway he continues trying to figure out who he was but he’s also kept more busy and realizes that just. Doing stuff is good

He starts a bunch of clubs and activities and stuff because he adores meeting people and being in the center of attention

Until eventually he makes the human appreciation club and meets a certain lizard

And she REFUSES to talk about herself and Mettaton doesnt know what to do with himself because SOMEONE’s gotta be vulnerable

So it takes him all of two minutes to start gushing about how he’ll never know who he was meant to be and it sucks because how can he ever be himself or become corporeal if he doesnt know what he was supposed to do or look like or be

And alphys is like. “Oh. I could try designing something for you. What do you want to look like?”

And mettaton is like. “Wait. I am allowed to want? I thought i was just. Something. And i have to find it.”

And alphys is like… “listen i am not a ghost expert but i feel like if u could be anything, why not be? Do u want pink swooshy hair?”

And he’s like “oh my god yes please”

He doenst tell his cousins because it still feels illegal to him to just. Decide who he WANTS to be instead of being who he was meant to by the universe

Literally neither of them would care, both of them are so confused by his destiny obsession anyway but unfortunately he is stupid

And then he moves in with alphys while she makes his body and he is just so so happy and he gets to choose what kind of character he’s reborn as

And eventually ofc he does tell his family and they are like “you are stupid. I love you”

[scatterpatter]

Corren - 1 through 100 - You did this to yourself.

FUCK YOU *UN-IRONICS YOUR ASK*

UNDER THE FUCKING CUT

1. What do they smell like?

Bad. Do you think their party is able to regularly take showers? I thinketh the fuck not. ... Pine and old books when he can self care tho.

2. What is their voice like?

Listen I know Corren, being taller, would be more likely to have a deeper register but you'll tear "tenor Corren" out of my cold dead hands

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Spite.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

When he first met his BFF Alondra, he was so antisocial and good at ignoring people that she actually got the impression he might have been hard of hearing. She never let him live that down. (one day I'll finish this fic i promise)

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

"I will keep all of my pain in here, and one day I'll die." ... Okay but listen he's squishy so he takes like one hit and is bloodied up. Someone get him a healer. Pls.

6. What do they like to wear?

He likes his cloak. Its weighty and soft(well. WAS soft. got a bit of wear and tear these days.) and like. Who doesnt love cloaks.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

Ohhhhh fuuuccck this one's tough. I might have to go with Torvid honestly. While the entire party has had a positive impact on him(and trust me I was this close to picking Alistair), Torvid's been more of the one to call him out on his bullshit and to, oh I don't know, talk about your emotions? Ever??? Yknow BEFORE they become too much to handle and he absolutely breaks down???

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

Alistair's cooking.

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Good luck finding him NOT cuddled up with at least one dog. Tbh he just enjoys cuddles in general.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

FUCKIN. GIVE HIM A GOOD STEAK. THIS BOY IS MOSTLY CARNIVORISTIC.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

As tempted as I am to say "His cooking", it's actually his singing.

12. How do they like to dress?

"Comfort over flashiness tbh. I gotta go ADVENTURING in whatever I wear after all."

"... Also don't you DARE perceive me as cishet."

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

Call him a genie because he will BOTTLE THAT SHIT UP.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Denial :D

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Shrike: Killing his dad

Me: NOOOOOO

EDIT: WAIT THIS WAS ANSWERED IN Q99 WHAT THE HECK

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Somehow more of a dick than usual. Snappy and cranky and just. Mrehhh.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Doesn't get drunk often, but when he does I imagine he's actually giggly and a little clingy. It's cute :)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

*Opens my Corren playlist* Oh yeah. It's either full edgy alt rock or indie alt "depressed millenial" tracks.

19. Are they right or left handed?

FFFuuhhhhck uhhhh well

Looking over my old art I can't seem to pick a dominant hand(I've even drawn him handling his sniper with either hand???????????) so like oops guess he's ambidextrous.

20. Fears?

The dark, the ocean, dying alone and forgotten, his friends losing their trust of him

21. Favorite kind of weather?

Rain!!!! Especially cool rain like what people often get in fall months.

22. Favorite color?

Indigo!!!

23. Do they collect anything?

Books :3

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold weather by far.

25. What is their eye color?

Electric blue!

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Well his race is a homebrew race known as Marelienth. Uhhh ethnicity? Idk he's from a mountain town way up north *shrugs*

In human aus I imagine him as half-Mongolian half-Norwegian so ayee

27. Hair color?

Black!

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

No :D He loves adventuring with his party don't get me wrong but he still has a lot of trauma to unpack. ... Also he was just possibly broken up with soooo. :/

29. Are they a morning person?

NOPE.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

*motions to above question* Sunset.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

More organized, actually!

32. Pet peeves?

*unravels a list. It's all shit the party has done. Mostly Alistair.*

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

HOOUSIDSJFK- HE- Y-YEAH HE SURE DOES

His amethyst pendant used to belong to his brother, Julian, and he gave it to Corren right before they were separated so you BET it's sentimental as shit and he wears it daily.

34. Least favorite food?

Mecha's usually a great cook but one time trolled him with some absurdly spicy curry he couldn't handle and he's never forgiven them.

35. Least favorite color?

Hmmm. Maybe... yellow?

36. Least favorite smell?

He spent a year with his party in a damp cave and no showers, so uh. I'll give you a guess.

37. When was the last time they cried?

Literally last night in our game's timeline :D Full breakdown and everything!

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

Torvid :D He was there to comfort

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

One time they were in combat and Corren took a few hits and was down to about 2hp or so. He had a temporary level thanks to Kieran, which boosted his HP a little bit. When he teleported them to a safe town, though, well... Torvid was waiting for them so that's cool. But uh. Yeah that temporary level wore off then and there, dropping Corn Cob to exactly 0hp and he just- flopped down face first in the snow and started dying then and there KJNDKLFNSLKN

40. Do they have any scars?

:)

Do you want to talk about the scar over his eye from a fight he got in with his dad or like. The scars on his limbs from the time he was literally experimented on.

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

:)

Undiagnosed+Untreated Anxiety, Depression, DPDR, PTSD, just to name a few

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Running away from his problems, definitely.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He's a pretentious nerd. He can be a dick if he doesn't care about you.

44. Why might someone love them?

He's an adorable nerd! He's a hopeless romantic and oddly enough an optimist. He's passionate and driven too!

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Well ghosts are like- a canon proven thing in his world sooo. Yeah.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

His party. Well- most in his party.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Nethyl :)

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

He's dating Nethyl and they're in a happy and healthy relationship :) *politely ignores canon*

49. Do they like surprises?

NO >:(

50. When is their birthday?

Heroya 5th! I think. I don't wanna check, assume it's this.

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

"You guys celebrate your watchdays?"

Jokes aside, he mainly just treats himself to a nice dinner and a new book or something :)

52. Do they have any family?

Two older siblings: Julian and Mila. His parents are Andreas and Fanya!

53. Are they close to their family?

... *Coughs*. He was close with his siblings, but Mila died and he hasn't seen Julian in 30 years. Was close with his dad but last time they saw each other, they fought and Corren might have killed him so. ... Yeah. :/

54. What is their MBTI type?

FUCK uh. I... N... T... J? INTJ. Sure.

55. What is their zodiac sign?

In Sekrezia: The eagle

In our world: Uhhh. Idk. Capricorn????

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Uhhh. Ravenclaw??? I know almost nothing about HP :/

57. What D&D alignment are they?

THIS ONE'S EASY- lawful neutral!

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

:)

Used to have typical nightmares, nothing special. Nowadays though he often dreams of being underwater. Not drowning, though. It's... weird. He doesn't like those.

59. What are their views on death?

He's a necromancer lol.

Death is inevitable, though. It's a necessary part of life. Death is not an entire loss, though. One lives on in the memories others carry of them, in the love they hold in their hearts. Death is complicated, but that's okay.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Alistair :)

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

Dog time :)

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

... Ehhhhhh?

63. Do they have an accent?

Technically??? It's an accent from where he's from but like. I just barely tweak my own voice when I rp him so? Damn Corren I'm sorry you've been cursed with east coast dialect.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

"Damn who's the rich bastard here?" (cake is kinda a delicacy in their world- not like elites only but not NEARLY as common as it is here)

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?

Reassurance mode to whomever he's with. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Remember what I told you, death is a natural part of life, yeah? I don't have any regrets, I'm okay... Just. Thanks. For giving me a chance. Thank you. Thank you."

66. How do they feel about sex?

I SWEAR he's allosexual. I'm just bad at writing allosexuals.

67. What is their sexuality?

He doesn't really know how to pin it down, so he just calls himself "queer". Definitely not straight, that's all he knows.

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

AHAHA no. He's hella desensitized

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

Skulking cyst. Look it up at your own volition. It's. NO.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

It's 12:21 in the morning and I'm NOT about to scroll through a bunch of tv tropes just. just. NERD stereotype.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yyyyes? Only really if it's the people he cares about.

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Bullshit.

73. Do they have a pet?

WINGTHARA!! HIS SKELE-DOG!!!

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Oh yeah he's all bark and no bite. He usually just throws a little fit and/or yells.

75. How patient are they?

More than he should be :/

76. Are they good at cooking?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

Oh yes he insults the others all the time. No particular favorite, he likes so spice it up.

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Stim. Stim. Stim. His eyes get all sparkly and he. He.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

He will do everything in his power to assure they won't ever have to deal with their fears alone- You afraid of spiders? It's his job to get the spiders from now on so you won't have to deal with them.

80. Are they trustworthy?

Oh yeah. He's like Rapunzel- doesn't break promises.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Oh yes he tries to hide it. And yes, he's awful at it.

82. Do they exercise regularly?

Yes and no? No like- exercise regimen, but the amount of travelling and fighting they do is just- a workout in and of itself

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yeah! He's cute and he knows it baybie!!!

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

He,,, he likes someone who's physically stong,,, Muscles are,,, aaaaa >///>

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Someone he can nerd out with :)

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Impartial to it. He won't turn sweets away but he's not crazy about them either.

87. What is their age?

43, the equivalent of- I think someone in their mid 30s?

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

He's 6'8" :) Which is actually normal for his race

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

Sometimes! I like to think he has reading glasses or something like that.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

HE'S CUTE AND HE KNOWS IT.

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Julian tainted his sense of humor and now he finds the most dumb shit hilarious. Think very millenial/GenZ humor like "I wish I was Jared, 19"

92. What mood are they most often in?

"I don't get paid enough for this" or Fear.jpg

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People who don't keep their FUCKING WORD. Oh and like. Yknow. Half the shit his party does.

94. Outlook on life?

Again he's??? Oddly an optimist? In the "Things will get better and that is a fucking THREAT" way, but still optimist!

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

Talk about his family :) Or the fact that his boyfriend might want him dead :)

96. What is their greatest weakness?

He's squishy as fuck. He goes down easy.

97. What is their greatest strength?

He's extremely intelligent and great with magic and his sniper!

98. Something that they regret?

Not doing more to stop his brother when he tried to resurrect their sister

99. Biggest accomplishment?

Either convincing an entire town his name is Torren or accidentally convincing some very OP people that he's secretly a dragon.

100. Create your own!

FUCK YOU I SPENT LIKE 2 HOURS ON THIS. NO PROOFREAD. IVE ALREADY DESIGNED CORREN'S AND NETHYL'S HYPOTHETICAL KIDS. ANYWAYS THEY'RE TWIN IRINAGA AND I'VE NAMED THEM AFTER THE DNDADS TWINS: THEIR NAMES ARE LARK AND SPARROW.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Gonna make full use of my ‘comic rant’ tag and roast Future State: Superwoman.

Spoilers! And yelling! Of the disgruntled kind!

So a few things at the start here: 1.) I wanted to love this book. I wanted it to be great. I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt, in spite of some iffy stuff in the solicit text. So this rant is not coming from a place of having decided this was going to be awful ahead of time. 2.) My tolerance for bad Supergirl comics is pretty high! Takes a lot for me to actually come out and say that a particular issue is trash. Reader: This story is trash.

It’s not ‘middle-aged white guys writing/drawing a story about sending a minor to a potentially hostile planet fully nude’ trash, mind you. It’s the compost bin, rather than the landfill. Slightly nicer trash, but it still stinks to high heaven. Allow me to expand!

PROLOGUE - SUMMARY: ...I actually can’t summarize this comic b/c it would devolve into a lot of senseless yelling. We’ll just have to tease out this terrible plot as we go along. 

PART I - DEAD DOGS TELL BAD TALES: The comic opens with Kara standing at Krypto’s grave. That’s not why this comic is trash, but it bears mentioning. Because why. Why would you do this. 

PART II - IN WHICH IT ONLY GETS WORSE: So, Kara has a running inner monologue, and the main thing we gather from Kara’s thoughts is that it was Krypto who taught her to be a hero. On paper, that sounds very sweet! In practice, it reads as Kara having no moral center whatsoever—whatever good qualities she might possess, she did not learn from her parents, or her foster parents, or friends, or fellow heroes. Nor do they come from within Kara herself. Nope, t’was Krypto who taught Kara not to be a jealous rage monster. That is not hyperbole--Kara’s walking around angry about her cousin all the time and she’s like, ‘It was you, Krypto, who taught me not to judge, and to let go of anger.’ Listen, I love Krypto, but this? This is, as the youth would say, a bad look.

PART III - THOSE CERTAINLY ARE...SOME THEMES: The set-up here is that Kara is on the moon, and has established a sanctuary for alien refugees. That’s a dynamite idea! I love that! Buuuuut Kara didn’t look at the plight of alien refugees and say, ‘I want to help!’ Really, she didn’t even look at herself and say, ‘I don’t want others to feel like I’ve felt.’ No, she said, ‘Earth won’t accept me as a hero, and Clark didn’t name me protector of Earth, so. I’m out!’ (Honestly, if your moral compass is so whack that you need a dog to walk you back from Hulk-Smashing...can’t say I blame Clark for not picking you, Kara!) But apparently, the people on the moon don’t really like her either. And it is literally never explained why. There’s a whole montage of Kara fixing stuff and saving lives and all the moon folk just glare at her. This makes both the moon people AND Kara look like a**holes, because they come across as ungrateful, and she comes across as a glory hound. Thanks! I hate it! So the ‘peace’ Kara’s found on the moon isn’t really peaceful at all, cause she still resents her cousin, and people still don’t like her, in spite of the fact that she’s constantly performing acts of service for them. 

Also, side note, I’m just now realizing this is an entire population of alien refugees...and Kara is somehow still the odd one out. Like, Earth I get, because everyone else is a human and maybe freaked out by the super powers. But a bunch of aliens? WHY. Why did you do this. Why did this need to be set on the moon with alien refugees if you’re not going to interrogate Kara’s identity as an alien refugee herself AND all of the aliens are inexplicably humanoid in appearance and utterly ordinary in terms of power levels.  

Like. This is not the CW show, where they have a budget, and a huge ensemble cast to serve. YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE. AAARRRRRGHHHH.

PART III CONT’D: There’s also this weird ‘birthright’ element introduced...like, Clark and Jon stole Kara’s ‘right’ to be earth’s defender which is...a terrible reading of Kara’s modern origin. It brings in the idea that Kara is a ‘chosen one’ and because she didn’t get to be that chosen one, all of her hero work is for nothing. Never mind the whole central conceit of what makes Clark and Kara heroic...that they have this incredible power, and choose to do good with it. Nah...it’s all about her ‘right’ to protect the people of Earth! And mean ol’ Clark took that away! THANKS. I HATE IT. 

PART IV - A POOR USE OF SPACE: So, all of the Future State books kind of struggle with the issue of too much exposition, which is understandable. They have to introduce an entirely new status quo in a very limited amount of literal page space, so you *really* have to have a handle on how you allocate your time and focus.  

Introducing a brand new, lore-heavy heroic character who gets all of the development and dynamic art and pulls focus away from the character you’re meant to be writing is a bad use of a two issue limited series.

Like, this is a crappy Supergirl comic but it’s a great backdoor pilot for a Lynari ongoing, I guess. 

Imagine if in the Jon Superman book, they introduced a random, brand new best friend for Jon, and he got the big character arc instead of Jon. That’s something you save for an arc in an ongoing title, NOT A TWO ISSUE EVENT COMIC.  

Back to said new character, there’s a lot of forced attempts to parallel Kara and Lynari, but Lynari’s backstory is so confusing, rushed, and poorly explained that it’s like: okay, they’re both...angry? And the moon jerks hate them? ...uh. Okay.

(I’m gonna bring back my ‘why is this set on the moon, even’ question so that my ‘poor use of space’ header becomes a better joke.) 

PART V - I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO...B/C THERE SURE AIN’T ONE HERE: I’ve already mentioned that Krypto was apparently Kara’s conscience so when Lynari’s aunt arrives to...kill them? (again, everything about Lynari’s backstory is rushed and poorly explained) Kara gets real mad and basically pulls a Gothel: ‘You want me to be the bad guy? Fine! Now I’m the bad guy.’ But thank goodness Lynari is there to tell Kara no! Don’t murder the giant aunt eel! Lynari then steals Kara’s powers and gives up the swamp jewel that’s been hidden inside their body and now their aunt is less murder-y!

WOW. Couldn’t even give the big damn hero moment to Kara in her own book, huh?

So the day is saved. It takes Kara a while to regain her powers, and it’s only then, when she’s no longer ‘above’ the moon jerks, that they’re like, ‘oh, we like her!’ There is a bit of narration about how that attitude is awful. But that narration is provided by Lynari. See, the inner monologue is no longer Kara’s thoughts, but rather it has switched to Lynari’s point of view. They’re telling us this story. And do you know why?

PART VI - WHY THIS COMIC *SUCKS*: KARA DIES. SHE’S THE FRIGGIN’ ‘SECOND GRAVE’ OF THE TITULAR ‘TWO GRAVES’

Fudge this comic to heck.

See, Kara dies on the moon, presumably of old age. She’s buried next to Krypto. And this random character who we’re suddenly supposed to care about tells us her story. Not Clark. Not the Danvers. Not Brainy. Not even one of the supporting cast members from her solo title. No one from Kara’s life is mentioned at all, save for Jon and Clark, and they’re pretty much relegated to flashbacks of Kara punching them. 

PART VII - TIME TO COMPARE DEATHS, I GUESS: First and foremost can I just say that I hate that’s a sentence that I’m typing about Kara in the year of our lord, 2021. But okay: Kara’s big famous death in Crisis stopped the entire DC universe cold. Everyone paused in the middle of the destruction of the multiverse to mourn her loss and honor her (GENUINELY HEROIC) sacrifice. Clark and Barbara--two established characters with a strong connection/relationship to Kara--offered lovely eulogies. 

This one: Kara gets to die of old age in obscurity after a lifetime of striving to be recognized and only achieving it by de-powering and serving a population of jerks. 

Not the warm and fuzzy ending you think it is!

(Meanwhile, Clark lives for millennia and spawns an entire dynasty of Els, all of ‘em out there, protecting the cosmos. I was looking forward to House of El in the hopes of maybe seeing some Kara stuff but NOPE. Thanks to Superwoman, we’re probably not gonna see any future Kara stuff beyond this! G R E A T)

And like, the argument could be made that this ending makes Kara happy. This is the life she chooses! She wants to be alone and garden on the moon! Except, we get zero insight from Kara regarding the remainder of her life. We only have Lynari’s narration and some montage shots...nearly all of which focus on other characters. But honestly, even if we did get Kara’s side of things, I doubt it would shed much light on her feelings, bEEECAUSE...

PART VIII - SUPER BLAND: This Kara really has no personality outside of ‘detached and vaguely bitter.’ I like Sauvage, I think she’s an incredibly talented artist, but here, Kara is stiff and her expression often reads as aloof. She’s very pretty, but it comes at the expense of being expressive. (And I know Sauvage can do expressive stuff...because Lyanari gets to be expressive.) Like...I love that shojo manga vibe but this is a Kara devoid of spark and warmth. 

...Like...Melissa Benoist’s portrayal of Kara is right there... 

I’ve already sort of touched on this but her inner monologue doesn’t have much personality either. She’s just parroting the same, ‘I need to do as Krypto taught me!’ nonsense for both issues. Until, of course, we shift to Lynari’s narration, and lose Kara’s thread entirely. 

PART IX - LET’S WRAP THIS UP: This book frustrates me to no end because it had a lot of stuff going for it. It’s got a female writer and artist--still a rarity for the Supergirl book--it’s a limited series mostly free of continuity and character baggage, and it’s not tied down to the grimdark cyberpunk stuff happening in the Gotham books. YOU COULD’VE DONE ANYTHING. And, once again, DC goes with a pitch that’s: Kara is angry, Kara resents Clark...and Kara dies.

It’s also happening...right as Kara has no dedicated ongoing title, the movie’s been shelved, the TV show is entering its sixth and final season, and all promotion has shifted to new CW and HBO shows. 

*screams into the void* 

MAAAAAAN I hate this book. I hate that it retroactively makes me hate the Andreyko run a little bit--a run that I took to be about a traumatized young woman forced to confront her grief, and who leans on a beloved animal companion for comfort. Here, Krypto is L I T E R A L L Y the reason Kara’s not constantly frying folks with her heat vision. 

I hate that this book has made me use the word ‘literally’ so much in this rant.

I hate that this could possibly be more in continuity than Millennium.

Remember Millennium? Where Kara was in like...five pages? And she was warm, and kind, and promised to help Rose because it was the right thing to do, and oh yes, WAS PRESIDENT OF EARTH?!??! AND A CLASSY OLD LADY!?!?!?!?! WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AND KICKIN’ IN THE FAR FLUNG FUTURE!?!?!?!?!

I hate that I’m using my lunch hour to rant about how much I hate this comic.  

I hate that DC editorial seems hell-bent on erasing the interesting aspects of Kara’s character to sand her down to ‘the angry one’ or ‘Batman 2.0′

PART X - LET’S END ON SOME (?) POSITIVES: Don’t read this book! Don’t do it! Don’t waste your time and money!

Instead, check out ANYTHING ELSE. If you want mom!Kara, read Tom Taylor’s ‘Last Daughters of Krypton’ in the DC Nuclear Winter special. If you want heroic oldlady!Kara, read Millennium. Honestly? Pick up anything by Bendis that has Supergirl in it. It is miles away better than this. You want angry Kara working through her grief? Andreyko, Red Lantern, even Infected. ANYTHING BUT THIS. HECK, grab Superman of Metropolis instead! That has bad Kara characterization but at least she doesn’t end up dead. 

Anyways. This comic is bad. I wish it wasn’t! And this is now the SECOND TIME IN A ROW that Kara’s book ends on a terrible note before the character disappears from monthly comics for an unknown period of time.  

*screams into the void again*

[choccos-aaart]

Close enough to 10 mintues of “Ms Axel is a Goon”

Screw it. I'm posting it here, too. *NOTE: This is 100% fictitious and not going to happen*

Final Assignment Script Writing, Winter School 2021 ONE-PAGE PITCH

TITLE: Ms Axel is a Goon

GENRE: Action, comedy, sci-fi, family

LOGLINE: In the humid city of Dasmus, Mei Axel is a former goon who's just escaped captivity. Since her escape, she's been trying to better her life with her new found passion for music, but she quickly learns that the entire country wants to trade her name and face for a price.

FORMAT: Full-length animated film

MAJOR AND RECURRING CHARACTERS: Mei Axel – A wanted fugitive. Mid 20s. Despite her physical competence, she's mostly a foolish, plucky girl who steals a guitar one day.

Alicia Vonarb – CEO of a liquor company. Late 30s. The last boss to hire Axel to do her sneaky business work. Confident and vain, but does everything in spite of her mother. Wants to capture Axel because she doesn't want to get ratted out.

Kannie Orma – An old gadgeteer friend of Axel’s. Mid 50s. Also a “lame uncle” sort of figure to Axel. Their friendship must remain secret because his work is also involved with Vonarb.

O. Miho - Axel’s former coworker from when she was working for Vonarb. Early 30s. His current assignment is to capture Axel. Smug and thinks he's funny.

K. Claymont – Axel’s other former coworker. Late 20s. Works together with Miho. A kind man, but only most of the time.

SYNOPSIS: Mei Axel. She's a goon that's been caught and jailed. Eventually enough, she makes a successful escape and ventures outside. Not much happens afterwards other than stealing a guitar, and once discovering that she's got a passion for music, now she aims to live up that dream. But while attempting to live her new life, her face still reads as an incompetent menace to her former friends and foes, as well as to the majority of the country – they all seem to want to trade in her face for a cash reward. Now, aside from escaping the hands of everyone that wants to hand her over to the government, it is now up to Ms Axel to figure out how she is going to be able to pursue her new life goal that heavily conflicts with her current place among her people. This first follows the story of a wanted fugitive who sets off on a quest for redemption which, unfortunately, never works out. The story ends when Axel eventually escapes the country. She finally acknowledges that she can never truly change the way she's perceived, as well as never fully experience the life that she wants. However, she still performs under a low profile, happily living a drifter's lifestyle.

RATIONALE: This is a story about someone whose wrongdoings and nurture had shaped the way that others view them. Our protagonist is Mei Axel who had been built up to become a significantly infamous member of society, but once discovering a part of herself that showed her potential in a more respected position, being a musician, she starts wanting to better herself. A problem with this scenario is that her past actions prevent her from fully achieving that dream. She can relate to audiences who want to change aspects of their past, particularly their mistakes or the wrong ways they've been brought up, but can't.

MARKET: Children ranging from 11-16, particularly those that are interested in scenes that involve action-packed chases and fighting between individuals. The [film] will present itself through retro-futuristic aesthetics in its city setting. Rock is also a prevalent music genre for the soundtrack, which may interest audiences who particularly like the genre.

The Script

EXT. BUILDINGTOP – NIGHT

Axel checks out the guitar from every angle with a grin, having a feel of its neck, strings and body. She sits it on her lap as if to play it.

AXEL

Oh... I hope those lessons never went to waste...

She wobbly plays a C major scale while slightly wincing through every second. She runs over the same scale again, but this time it flows a bit more smoothly. She smiles a little.

MONTAGE OF AXEL PRACTISING GUITAR

- Axel goes over the same scale a couple of times and with every run, her playing gets smoother.

- She then moves on to a different key and practises that scale

- She then moves on to another key and practises that scale

- She plays some chords now, beginning with the I IV V I progression

MONTAGE END

Axel continues strumming. A light turns on from a nearby building.

DWELLER

Who is playing that garbage?!

Axel stops strumming. Silence.

AXEL

(Breathes in)

I'll get the hang of it.

She slings the guitar over her back and runs into the shadows. Eventually, she disappears into the dark.

EXT. MARKETPLACE – DAY

A view of a cranny on a roof between two walls. Axel sleeps there resting her guitar on her lap. Waking up, she yawns and then lazily sits up.

CUT TO:

A view of the market grounds. Axel smugly and excitedly, yet discreetly scurries out of an alley between a bakery and a liquor store, with a paper doughnut bag in one hand and a small bottle of liquor in the other.

She sits by a cafe playing some instrumental reggae rock music through a speaker. Axel hums along to the melody of the soundtrack while tipsily bouncing her finger to the beat. She then quickly strums a few chords for a brief moment, all which clash with the song's key signature, until right on the chorus, where she strums a chord that matches the root note of the song.

AXEL

Ooh, it's a G song. God, why do they always gotta be G songs? (Giggles)

She strums along with the music, landing every chord. Her smile grows and she gradually plays more confidently. She whistles the melody, then proceeds to hum. A TEENAGE BOY chucks a coin in front of her. Axel looks up and grins. She finger guns at him as he skids away to his friends, laughing. Axel stands up and plays more purposefully. The background starts dimming down.

DAYDREAM

Soon the marketplace around her blends into a stage. An abstractly drawn audience watches her perform and cheer her on. The chorus section of the song finishes.

AXEL

(Laughs)

I'm going to be known! I'll make myself the talk of the town! Everybody's gonna love me!

Axel starts strumming along to the background music again. Suddenly, a MAN with a large, muscular build grabs onto her shoulder.

END DAYDREAM

The stage fades back into the marketplace. Axel is still strumming.

MAN

You got that last part wrong.

AXEL

And who are you?

The man bats Axel with a club.

OVER BLACK.

SFX: Walking footsteps.

EXT. DESOLATE CITY AREA – DAY

In an alleyway, the man carries a bag containing Axel's body, also with Axel's guitar strapped around his back. After some time, Axel can be seen moving inside of the bag.

MAN

Huh? Hey. You keep still down there, would you?

Axel still moves inside of the bag.

MAN (CONT'D)

Look, this is goin'a be a long walk. That means you better cooperate with me, you hear that, Girlie? (Pause) You don't want to make me hurt you, now--

Axel falls out of a hole the bag with a shank in one hand and one of her boots on the other.

MAN

What the?!

The man looks behind himself while Axel stands up in front of him, holding her boot in both hands. She sends a finishing blow at the back of man's head and he falls to the floor. Axel cautiously looks at the man for a brief moment.

The man lies motionlessly on the ground. Axel drops her boot and fixes her shank back inside her pocket, then dusts off her hands before then squatting down next to him.

AXEL

Gosh, they really never hired me for nothing, huh... But I ain't into that stuff anymore. Say, can I have my guitar back?

The man does not respond. Axel lifts one of the man's eyelids and learns that he's out cold. Axel sighs with a slight chuckle. She lifts up the man and, with a struggle, unstraps the guitar from his body, before eventually slinging it over her own. Once fitting her boot back on, she then stands up and slowly walks over to the edge of the alley, whistling a chipper tune – the same melody she was playing earlier - on her way there. At the edge of the alleyway, her eyes look up. Then they widen.

INSERT – ELECTRONIC POSTER

containing Axel's mugshot and in large writing, "WANTED". Below is a list of details including Axel's height, approximate age, gender, race and the time and location of where she was last seen, “18:50, Southwest of Dasmus City”. There is also a cash prize.

INSERT – ELECTRONIC POSTER

containing the same contents as the previous poster, except the location which reads, “Southern markets of Dasmus City at 15:47, drunkenly playing a red Phenver brand guitar”.

A view of Axel between the alley's walls. All around are copies of the same two posters, both in electronic and printed forms. A mildly shocked expression crosses her face.

INT. TOILETS – DAY

A view of a row of toilet stalls. None of the stalls' doors are closed, except for the one in the centre. Axel's guitar leans on a nearby wall. Her feet can be seen in the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. Axel kicks the wall.

AXEL

Damn it! I'm such an idiot! What was I thinking?! Me? A musician? That's just one way to draw attention!

VONARB (O.S)

Axel? Is that you?

AXEL (CONT'D)

I can't b-- (Pause) Ms Vonarb?

Axel immediately opens her stall's door and looks in the direction of ALICIA VONARB'S voice. Vonarb walks towards Axel.

VONARB

And to think I'd meet you here of all places?

AXEL

I never expected to see you here, either.

VONARB

Well, isn't this quite the reunion?

AXEL

Eh. Not really.

VONARB

I'm surprised you got clever enough to get yourself out of prison.

Axel exits her stall.

AXEL

So, is that to say you're impressed with me?

VONARB

Nope. How'd you think I found you here so easily?

AXEL

Easily? That was easy?

VONARB

Anyway... Don't think I came trying to find you for no reason, now.

AXEL

Oh yeah! Coincidentally, I'm a bit short on cash. You don't happen to want to hire me again, don't you?

VONARB

(Laughs)

What? After getting yourself thrown in jail?

AXEL

Oh... (Pause) What are you even here for, anyway?

VONARB

Well. First of all... (Clears throat) Whatever you do, please don't take this the wrong way.

AXEL

Huh?

Silence. The two stare at each other. Axel tilts her head in confusion. Eventually, O MIHO and K CLAYMONT enter the room. Miho holds a taser while Claymont holds a bag.

CLAYMONT

Now, I don't mean to spread any panic or alarm--

AXEL

(Gasps)

You gotta be kidding me!

VONARB

I just said to not take it the wrong way--

AXEL

I knew it! You are as easy to see through as a window! It's 'cause of my “WANTED” sign, isn't it, Vonarb?

VONARB

Wrong!

AXEL

Huh?

VONARB

You see, we're here to keep you away from those authorities. And knowing you, you're probably so incompetent that you'd just wind up stuck in prison again! So, since you're with us, you're going nowhere.

AXEL

What? Why?

VONARB

You're pretty infamous now. And I've got my business to worry about, too. So, if it didn't all add up in that brain of yours, let's just say, I don't want to risk you ratting me out.

AXEL

Yeah, I'm not doing that!

Grabbing her guitar, Axel jumps on the sinks and runs along them. Miho runs to tase her. Axel whacks him with her guitar and then heads right out the door. Claymont follows.

CLAYMONT (O.S)

I got it!

EXT. CITY STREETS – DAY

A view of the front of a pub. There is people scattered everywhere. Suddenly, the door swings right open and Axel sprints outside with her guitar now strapped over her back. She continues along the street. Claymont chases right after.

[bluedemon1995]

Stay True To Yourself!

I read a story about a girl whose boyfriend took her to a swingers party…but neglected to tell her! And of course, that story led me down a very strange rabbit hole until this popped in my head. Ummm, this one has a little bit of a more adult theme - so please read with caution! This is an alternate reality story- obv not canon.

Katie Holt sat in the car feeling a niggling sense of unease that she cannot dismiss as hard as she tries to shove it down. She tries to narrow down the cause, thinking and analyzing as is her nature. Is it because she hasn’t been dating Mark very long and he picked her up roughly an hour ago. In fact, if she was honest, this was probably the longest amount of time she’d actually spent in his actual company. Previously, it was mostly online chats then a couple of in person short lunch coffee dates. But they were maybe twenty minutes. Is it because they are going to a party and she typically does not enjoy parties? Or maybe it’s because he’s the only person she’d know from this party, and she hates being dependent on anyone. She’d much rather rely on herself.

Regardless of the cause, she tries to shake off the feelings and enjoy the moment. Live a little in the real world like Allura said as she was helping her getting ready. Actually, if she was honest, this was the second novel experience of the day since having a friend come over and help her get ready for a date was a first as well. Yesterday, when she absently mentioned that she could not go to the movies tonight because she was going to a Christmas party with Mark, Allura got so excited. She immediately made plans to go shopping and offered to come and help me get ready. She was honestly more excited than I was but it was nice to have someone care.

Which was nice because her mom and dad had a work Christmas party to go to and her brother was on a date himself. It was nice for Allura to come over and help her out. In spite of the make up, dress and dating tips, she had a good time. Allura was only a couple of actual years older than but in experience she was decades ahead of her!

This year, partly due to their project at work, she’s gotten closer to some of co-workers or team. It’s been a nice change since high school and college where she was mostly alone except for her family and their friends. She loved feeling like people got her sarcasm, her references well, just HER. It was nice to have people who made her stop working to eat lunch or heck, even remembered to check to see if she left work for the day. Slowly but surely her team had become her friends.

Which all leads her back to a few moments ago, when Mark parked and got out of the car, stopping at the hood to wait for her. He looks impatient but whatever, she needs to take a minute alone to get her self under control. Her nerves hit a high point but deciding this was as good as it gets, Pidge stands and walks to the him, impulsively reaching out and holding his hand. It was dark and snowy, she definitely did not want to fall on ice as they walked up! How embarrassing!

He seemed surprised by her hand but quickly pulled her close, “Hey so, this is a special party and I’d really appreciate it if you kept an open mind, think of it as an of it as an experiment.”

Pidge felt like a five alarm bell was suddenly going off at the conclusion of that sentence. FUCK! What was he talking about?!? Why would he say something like that now? It was akin to setting a bomb and saying, do not look at the timer.

While Pidge is having an internal panic attack they walk in-no knocking just walk straight in the door. She doesn’t see anything right off the bat that concerns her. There’s a table where keys were thrown, shoes piled in the front hall and music playing. It was a really nice house, set in one of the fancier subdivisions of the area. Pidge was trying to keep calm but she was annoyed that he’d state something like that as they were walking in the door! What about beforehand so she could of decided?!? And he really didn’t tell her anything, which is worse than knowing.

He takes his shoes off, she does the same. Hesitating, he turns and pulls her towards the kitchen. “Drink? What’s your poison?”

Pidge sighs, beer seems safe and not like she’s going to be drinking much of anything after that bomb he dropped walking in. “Beer is fine, I’d like light if they got it.”

He nods and goes towards the coolers lined up along the wall. Pidge does what she does best, fades into the background and observes the room carefully. The lights seem dim and she could see out the patio doors that more people are out there by the pool. She squints, maybe it’s the just the glare…but are those people naked?!?

Mark comes back at that time with a draft beer which means I won’t be taking a drink of it. Why wouldn’t he give me a bottle or can that I could open myself? I’m quiet and watch Mark take in the party. I wonder who he knows? Suddenly, I look at a pretty girl in a Mrs. Claus outfit who comes up to Mark. She smiles brightly, and proceeds to lock lips with Mark, wow. She’s actually impressive with her ability to wrap around him like a snake yet keep her hand with her drink still, not spilling a drop. I’m actually impressed! My eyes dart around the room, trying to gauge what the hell is going on here. Why would he bring me here if he already has girl???

Finally she breaks off and slides over to me, “Hi, Danni with an I, wanna make out?”

I blink, rapidly, “Um, no, I’m good, but, uh, thank you for the offer though.”

She smiles, “Okay! If you change your mind I’ll be around!��

She flounced away and I looked to Mark, quietly questioning, “Exactly what kind of Christmas party is this? Why am I even here?!?”

He chucked, “It’s a swingers party and you can’t come alone. You NEED to bring a date, you know for the numbers. C’mon, this will be fun.”

I look at him feeling myself turn red. “Wait a minute, I bought a fucking new outfit for this?!? I put goddamn makeup on! You fucking asshole! Look, I could give two shits about what you do, honestly, we aren’t involved like that but why involve me? Could you not find someone else to bring? For fuck’s sake!”

Mark stared at me, having the NERVE to arch a brow, “Cursing really? You know swearing is for people not intelligent enough to come up with a better word. Besides, don’t be a prude, look walk around and find someone you find interesting or hot. There are a lot of people here, like it’s not that hard.”

I close my eyes and as bad as I want to hit him, curse him out, I refrain. Oh, he will pay, just later when there aren’t about a hundred witnesses who can fill out a police report. I take a breath and walk away, back to the front door. I look at the keys, but they all look the same, how would I know which is which. I guess I could take them all but what if someone wants to leave. I step out to the front steps.

Honestly, this could not have happened on a worse night. I can’t call Matt, he’s finally on a date with his current dream girl and my parents at that work party. I close my eyes, take a breath to reign in my anxiety that is sky rocketing and first I try Allura. But, duh, she’s at the movies with Romelle and probably turned her phone off. Shit. My eyes fill with tears but I refuse to let them fall. I take a deep breath, trying Hunk instead another coworker. Straight to voicemail. Shit he might be sleeping.

I look at my contacts and realize, I don’t have a long list of people to call. I sit and sigh, okay no matter how embarrassing I could always get an Uber. I schedule one but because I’m so far it will take about an hour. I walk around to the back and sit on a chair in the dark corner of the backyard. Sitting, I let my finger hover over the last name to try. Here goes nothing. Hanging up I text a short message. What the hell do I have to lose at this point.

I sit. And sit. I don’t know how many girls and guys I rebuff but something about a person not wanting to hook up makes people want to hook up with you apparently. Jeesh, in my real life, no one wanted to date me now everyone was trying to have sex with me. WTF?

Sighing I look at my phone, and crap, it looks like all my surfing has killed my battery. Suddenly a very naked Mark and a different Mrs. Claus come up to me.

Mrs. Claus giggles out, “Hey if you’re nervous, you could totally hook up with my husband. He’s the hot elf over there, standing on the edge of the pool and hot tub. It will be fun! Then if we like, we could continue next week!!” She giggles a lot and I try not to be rude.

“Thank you for that kind offer, but I’m good.”

She shrugs, “Sure thing baby, but aren’t you bored. Marky said you were shy and um, a novice. Don’t be afraid.”

Mark turns and Pidge can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Only for some guy in his boxers to edge into her space. “Darlin’, you-me-, it’s written in the stars baby.”

I groan, “Nope. You misread them, thank tho.”

Usually once I say no, they just move on. But nope, not this one. “Don’t be a prude. Sex is very natural. It’s elemental. It’s like essential. You need me baby!!”

Really, that’s his line? I shake my head no, but now we’ve got a crowd. I hear people interject how I’m falling into societies lanes and I must be a virgin because I’m sitting by myself. Then I hear people say I should be grateful and oh my gosh, yep, I’ve been transported back to high school. Except I’m not a self conscious kid anymore and I don’t give a fuck what they think about me. But, I’ll be damned if I don’t respond. No one pushes me or pressures me to do something I don’t want to. And I’ve never just gone with the crowd cuz it was easier, not then, not now.

I hear a roar and suddenly all attention is lost on me. I decided to leave before my temper actually erupts. I quickly move towards the gate to get the hell out of here. I’d rather walk home then stay here. Fuck Mark and his party. I might actually brainstorm with Allura and Romelle on a way to get back at him. Something embarrassing.

As I walk away I hear Mark yelling my name, “Katie! Katie! Don’t walk away! You need to expand your senses and life. Don’t be scared. There is so much I could teach you. Don’t be such a prude!”

Laughter.

Well fuck him. Now I’m pissed. I’m not scared. I just don’t want to do this. Yet, who does he think he is telling me what I should do. As if. And what if he did this to other girls, who weren’t able to say no? I turn around and calmly but loudly state, while looking straight at him, “Look, don’t act like I’m the scared one. Who didn’t tell me where they were taking me. If this was a scene I was into, fine. And believe me, I will sleep with whoever I want. I just don’t want to sleep with you nor do I have anything to prove to anyone. But if and when I see a guy or girl for that matter, that I’d like to fuck, then I would. So, shut up, cause Marky you’re just not it.”

I could hear murmurs and then Mark yelling, and his feet slapping on the ground. Ughhhhh. One thing I could be thankful for is seeing him naked, cuz ick. He has no muscle definition and oh my God, I cannot wait to tell Allura how he looks like he waxes cuz he has no hair anywhere on his body.

I turn to walk away and see a guy who I have HAD the luxury of day dreaming about striding towards me with an shit eating smirk. Well, shit, of course. My eyes closes but it doesn’t stop my from seeing him behind my eyes. His hair is slightly matted from his helmet which means the roar must have been his Harley. He has one of his many black t-shirts on with his favorite leather jacket over it. His jeans are well worn and faded not those designer ones that only look used. He has on his riding boots, which of course give him another inch or so of height. Which he loves. Opening my eyes I see him about 6 feet away and I see he still has his riding gloves on.

I determinedly walk towards him only to hear Mark scream, his feet slapping, or at least I hope it’s his feet. He yells, “Yeah right, you prude-like you would ever-“

I reach said hot guy and say, “I’m kissing you in two seconds. One, two.”

I fist my hand in his shirt and pull him closer to me. Except he doesn’t move, so I look up into his eyes and arch a brow, he arches his, which causes me to roll my eyes and I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell when grins. With his hands on my hips pulls me into his hard body, throwing me off balance. I slip my arms around him lift my head and his lips slam onto mine. Ok, point proven. Yet, as I lean back to break the kiss, I feel two arms encompass me, hold me close and reposition me.

His mouth re-angles on mine, I feel myself lifted on my tip toes. Omg, the heat of his body is amazing. I didn’t even realize I was cold sitting out here but against his body I felt like was next to a heater. His tongue pushes past my lips and, well, I stopped thinking for a full minute, hell maybe minutes. It was that good of a kiss. Shit. His tongue stroked mine, made me shiver and then he nipped my lip causing a groan. I literally could feel him smile and I was going to move back when his hand fisted in my hair and he started to kiss my neck and holy crap! I think my knees buckled but it didn’t matter because he picked me up and my legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist. His hands were supporting my weight but I think they were actually under my dress. My hands were in his hair and digging into his shoulder respectively. Well. Hell.

I don’t know how long that went on for when suddenly I hear Mark right next to us yelling, “That’s enough.”

Slowly pulling back, his gravelly voice questions, “Outta here or are we continuing the show? Just to be clear, I’m good with either decision.” He then arches that fucking brow.

Face flaming, I whisper, “Let’s go. Please.”

Eyes on me, he nods. “What’s asshole’s name?”

“Mark.”

Nodding he raises his voice, “Hey Mark, fuck off and if I ever see you again, you’re dead.”

A girl in just a string bikini bottom steps in front of us, drawing our attention. Her hand is gliding down her chest when she looks right at him, throatily murmuring, “Wanna upgrade?”

He laughs, “Um already did. Let’s go Pidge.”

He moves his hands and I lower my legs. He instantly laces his fingers with mine and pulls me to the path back to the front. “Keith! You can’t say that! You know about Mark being dead meat.”

“Just did.”

“Why, what, are you even doing here?”

As he places his helmet on my head and carefully tightens the straps, “I saw Shiro’s phone buzz, so I looked. It seemed like something that couldn’t wait. So here I am.”

Blinking I nod, “Okay. I said I had an Uber coming.”

“Saw, don’t care. I, um, didn’t like the idea of you being here when you didn’t want to be. So yeah, deal.”

“But why didn’t you respond?”

“I pinged your location to my phone and left. Didn’t think about it honestly.”

“What if I was gone?”

He shrugged as we approached his bike, which was on the lawn! “As long as you were safe.”

He then takes off his coat, slipping it around my shoulders, “Arms in, it’s cold when we start moving.” Eyes on her legs, fingers play with her skirt, brushing her thighs. “I can’t do anything about your legs though. Let me know if you need a break. We can stop as often as you need.”

I nod, and as we drive into the night, my arms tight around his waist, I can’t help but smile. Keith Fucking Kogane. Damn this boy can kiss. Maybe there is hope for my love life after all. I feel his hand cover my hand on his abdomen, squeeze and drift down to my leg. I squeeze him a little tighter and I know it’s just my imagination but I swear I can hear his laughter.

My hero.

[autumnblogs]

Day 43: Openbound

We’ll principally be doing Act 6 Intermission 3 today, so expect lots of pictures in this one!

Believe it or not, I initially didn’t like Openbound very much; I felt like it kind of dragged on my first readthrough, and generally had a pretty hard time getting myself to care about the Dancestors. They’re a pretty unsympathetic bunch.

Then again, lots of Homestuck characters are pretty unsympathetic! I’ve been really feeling that in the second half, as retrospect allows me to view a lot of secondary characters through the lens that we’re not intended to get attached to them.

That said, Openbound is actually pretty key to helping us understand the second half of the comic, I think, and makes explicit a lot of the themes that it explores, and how it builds upon the first half.

I think that the theme of Openbound as a self-contained work within Homestuck that we can use as a tool to decode Homestuck can be concisely stated like this; “Nostalgia and a desire for unity with the past causes toxic stagnation.”

So, aside from the introduction that we’ve already gotten to Meenah through the short conversation she had with the other kids, this is our first real opportunity to get to know her! Boy is she obsessed with money.

Money, like Cake, is a symbol that is associated with the Aspect of Life. As an aspect principally associated with Raw Power - the power to do what you want, unfettered by the stringent restrictions that are associated with Doom - it’s natural that Life would be associated with money.

The origin of money in history is pretty nebulous; it precedes the invention of writing, so any theory concerning its invention is ultimately conjecture. What I think is interesting about money is that the move toward a monetary economy in history mostly (but not always) happens as a result of the fact that it is way more efficient to collect taxes; the state mints standard coins, only accepts taxes in the form of standard coins, and propagates them into the economy by buying goods and services from the market.

It’s a tool of government, and even though Meenah may abrogate her inheritance, the Princess can’t escape her birthright. Money offers control, security... and power. What makes all of this extra interesting is that money is effectively worthless in the afterlife. Here, there’s actually nothing for her to really buy or spend it on; anyone can dream up whatever they want with ease.

It’s a nice bit of callback humor that Meenah has the same reaction to discovering the Thorns of Oglogoth that Rose does, but unlike Rose, Meenah actually does destroy them on the spot.

For being so headstrong and dangerous, there are ways in which Meenah is really pretty surprisingly sensible.

Lord English can destroy ghosts - this has always been a pretty disturbing thought for me. I may have said something to this effect before, but if I haven’t I’m a free-thinking Theist - raised in the Church, and largely independent in terms of beliefs, but I’m still pretty convinced that there is some kind of life after death. It doesn’t bother me nearly as much in works that have final death as a general presupposition, but it always bothers me when some kind of eternal life after death exists in a setting, and can be arbitrarily denied by evil beings with some power or another, like how some Demons and Liches can destroy or devour a soul in Dungeons and Dragons.

In Homestuck though, it fits with the themes established by the ways in which everyone God Tiers - spiritual power can be pretty arbitrary, and generally signifies very little about the moral worth of the one who has it; it does not intrinsically elevate the one who has it. It fits with its general criticism of power and the powerful, whether that’s the Mayor’s hatred of Kings, or the associating of corporatism with the worst parts of Jane’s characterization and Crockercorp in general.

Lord English has the power to destroy ghosts and end the lives of immortals not because he has attained to any kind of heightened spiritual awareness. He’s just some douchebag who through cosmic serendipity was in the right place at the right time to become basically all-powerful.

I adore Meenah’s spark. Who gives a fuck if Lord English is invincible? She knows exactly what she’s going to do when she gets her hands on him, and she’s got a plan from the outset. I think it’s also interesting the way that even though Meenah is absolutely taken by the spectacle of power, it isn’t sufficient to make her want to join up with English. Only soft power works on Meenah Peixes; emotional intimacy, friendship... keeping her entertained. All of these are the actual way to moderate her violent and dangerous personality.

While neither Rose nor Meenah is a parallel character to either Gendo or Rei from Neon Genesis Evangelion (I think, actually, that Dirk is the character who most strongly parallels both of them), this bit reminds me of the way that Ritsuko describes both of them;

Rose says of herself and Meenah, “You’re not very good at this, are you? ... talking to people.”

Ritsuko says of Gendo and Rei, “They’re not very adept (at)... living, I suppose.”

The same can really be said of a lot of characters in Homestuck, particularly the ones who primarily find their identity in some form of power-seeking. Whether it’s Rose, or Dirk, or Meenah, or even someone as innocuous as Jake, none of them is particularly adept at living.

Rose is pretty conciliatory with Meenah; given her attraction to danger and darkness, it’s probably not surprising that she makes such an obvious pass at Meenah in spite of the fact that she probably knows what their relationship was in another life.

Further evidence that Rose is the horniest Homestuck character.

“you know how it is with ancestors

they just kind of hold this inexplicable power over you”

Dave continues to progress down the path of not giving a shit, as did Sollux before him.

He’s not quite to the level of reluctance that he eventually adopts, of choosing to just not engage with English at all.

Gods are, to some extent, aware of the various narrative forces that govern their existence.

About the only thing this piece of nasty trash has in common with Karkat is the extent to which they both blabber, and he helps create contrast with the other, somewhat more likable dancestors. Kankri is pretty much openly contemptible, and really in the worst way. I’m almost inclined to call him a concern troll because of the extent to which his verbal essays exist purely to make him feel better about himself. Any time it comes time for him to listen to people who historically actually suffered from the systems they were involved in, Kankri shows his true colors, slut-shaming and misogynistic.

Unsurprisingly, The Other Thief is also the vector for English’s ideology in her session, “turning us against each other to make us stronger.” While Kurloz may be a worshipper of English, and Damara may have thrown in her lot with the demon because of her nihilistic despair, Meenah (rather like Dirk!) is clearly driven toward a life of violence, and restless action for its own sake.

Now we’re starting to get some insight into Feferi’s style of rulership, which in turn, probably gives us some insight into Jane. For Feferi, leadership means taking power away from the people you’re leading if it seems like they have the potential to hurt themselves (or to be a drain on society if left to their own devices). It represents a violation of agency, perhaps not so severe as the kind that Vriska perpetrates usually.

Feferi and Jane are the sort of people, I think, who want to create a perfect world - but it’s important to them that they’re the one who’s creating that world, and less important that the world is perfect for anyone in particular. Just perfect.

https://homestuck.com/story/5288

John’s whole self-conception, and especially his conception of himself as a man, and someone who might be growing up to take on the same roles as his Father, is tied up in the icons of dadliness and masculinity in the movies that he likes.

So we should expect that his disillusionment with his past will change the way that he thinks about his future, and what he’s going to do with it. It’s a shame that this line of questioning never goes anywhere in Homestuck proper, but I’ll use it as evidence in the “John/June Egbert is trans” folder. Reminds me of how my decisive lack of affinity for the Boy Scouts serves as a nice little retrospective bit of evidence in my own trans narrative.

Based on the number of trans Eagle Scouts I know, I feel like there’s a certain extent to which it be like, a fast-track to figuring that out about yourself, like, you tried all the boy stuff and just decided, nope! Not for me.

https://homestuck.com/story/5290

Man, especially if we continue to read this section of Homestuck as conflating the characters and the audience, this whole section reads as John not just having a meltdown about Con Air, but also generally having a meltdown about his own story so far - everything he’s done in Sburb, etc. It just all feels lame and shitty in retrospect, when it was something that was kind of exciting at the time, at least up until the point where his loved ones all dropped dead there at the end.

It turns out that there was nothing particularly edifying about John’s suffering.

https://homestuck.com/story/5300

Teens can be such monsters. It’s the anniversary of Bro’s Death too. Davesprite is probably as broken up about that as John is about Dad, but it’s hard for boys/men to talk about that kind of thing with each other.

Cronus is even more of an incel than Eridan. He may be the most singularly contemptible character in Paradox Space. Do I hate anyone more than Cronus? No, I think I do not.

I won’t have a lot to say about the middle leg of Openbound; it’s relatively empty of substance, and not much that happens in it is ever relevant again compared to the first and second legs.

I like to think that this leg of the journey is, more than anything, a chance to ruminate on some joke characters who were already parodies; parodies of parodies, a joke made at the expense of an existing joke. The kind of thing Dirk Strider would write, basically.

Hey check it out, the Year of Our Lord 2012, and Andrew was starting to show some mild sensitivity in his choice of words. Just mild enough to have the lowest character in the story show a tiny bit of sensitivity himself.

This leg of the adventure does give us some more insight into Meenah’s character. Just like Vriska, she’s all about being a hardass super-murder, until she starts causing problems for the people she actually cares about.

Being Evil Sucks.

This is a really weird sentiment for Karkat to have in light of like, everything else about the latter half of the comic. I mean, he hasn’t exactly had the epiphany yet that the ideas that he has about being a leader are kind of awful and shitty, so it’s possible that he’s talking the Condesce up to avoid thinking about that. IDK.

He also immediately claims he’ll leave behind the meteor to go and join Meenah’s army, so maybe Karkat is just in a pretty low place in general? That tracks.

Karkat’s little conversation with Terezi explains at the two thirds mark of Openbound exactly what this whole thing is about.

Almost the entire second half of the comic is about examining the character’s guardians, and their relationships with them. The Guardians - Grandpa and Bro especially - are hyped up to be these outrageous badasses, both in-and-out of universe, and their ambivalent relationship with their kids creates this ambiguity throughout the comic about whether the kids are worthy, whether they’re living up to their parents’ legacy - and it’s the kind of thing that plagues them throughout.

But the thing is, Ancestors can be lame, or even terrible. They’re not really anything to aspire to, and the image of success that they project onto the world is one of learned confidence, and usually that only if they’ve really managed to make it.

Even the best parents are flawed, and instead of trying to measure up to them, growing up healthy usually means learning what those flaws are, and committing not to reproduce them.

Parents don’t suck; they can be awesome, and generally speaking, for a long part of our life, they’re all we’ve got. It’s hard not to love them. But we shouldn’t turn them into idols.

(On another note, it’s one hundred percent fitting for Terezi’s Ancestor to be an outrageous coolgirl. Terezi is perpetually anxious about being cool enough, the sort of person who is breathlessly fun to be around, who commands the attention of everyone around her, and she’s surrounded by them wherever she goes.)

https://homestuck.com/story/5340

John’s distress leads him to dream about his dead Dad, and boy is he angry. He spends a lot of the second half of the comic seething in rage directed at whomever is responsible for all the suffering he and his friends endure, dishing out beatdowns toward those responsible, but I’ve never gotten the impression that these little outbursts of his are particularly rewarding for him.

https://homestuck.com/story/5358

That was quite a blow. He knocked out like a tenth of Jack’s health bar.

https://homestuck.com/story/5387

Depending on where you’re standing some really totally different things can matter to different people. From Vriska’s point of view, the things that happened back when she was alive totally don’t matter at all anymore - only the matter of Cosmic importance that is fighting Lord English.

But the stuff that matters to the people she left behind, and the suffering she’s responsible for - especially for putting Terezi in a position where she had to slay her - all of that still matters very much to the people who are alive, which is what makes her self-conception as someone who is on the side of the angels now really... not sit well.

She clearly hasn’t changed all that much. She just thinks, as usual, that now that things are even, now that the score is settled, things can go back to the way they were before.

https://homestuck.com/story/5388

Tavros and Vriska are really bad for each other in general. Like, it’s not good for her to be around someone as pliable as Tavros is, and it’s plain to everybody that it’s not good for him to be around her either; whenever he’s around her, he apes her bogus inflated self-esteem in all the worst ways.

https://homestuck.com/story/5397

Tavros’ explanation of what Vriska does suggests that storytelling has become kind of a ritual for her - a means by which she is attempting to connect with her Ancestor, by performing the same actions she is, miming her - still the same old Vriska.

That’ll be all for now. Cam signing off for now - join me for the thrilling conclusion to Openbound tomorrow, Same Cam Time, Same Cam Channel.

[xoruffitup]

TROS (Mis)Characterizations: What Was and What Could Have Been

What started as responding to an anon ask turned into an entire meta... but working out all these thoughts has at least eased a bit of my TROS pain. :’) 

From my perspective, TROS managed to destroy not only the characterizations built so far in the sequel trilogy, but also the entire story built upon these characters (mainly Reylo) as we knew them. While talking to a family member about the movie a few days ago and voicing my grievances with the story, he pointed out how someone could watch TFA and skip to TROS without realizing they’d missed much. That’s mostly true and entirely gutting.

Since I had an ask to talk about how TROS regressed in terms of characterization, I’ll start with the most hurtful of defacements: All of the nuanced vulnerability that made Kylo/Ben our most beloved character. We had absolutely nothing in TROS like the complex masterpiece moments of TLJ. Think back to “You are a monster.” / “Yes I am” – delivered with glowering menace as Kylo stalked closer, simultaneous to the tell of fragmented uncertainty in a quivering bottom lip and chin, all while his eyes remained completely riveted on Rey. Think back to “You’re not alone” – delivered with a wet sheen to his eyes in a soft cracked voice, but with self-loathing still smoldering behind his expression. Until the scene with Han, Kylo was shrunk into an entirely two-dimensional cookie cutter “villain” figure in TROS, seemingly more committed to the dark side and the First Order than he ever was to begin with in TFA. (I say “seemingly” because his true motives and interior dilemmas are frustratingly unclear in the entire first half of the movie. Cue me loathing the mask more than ever.)

Though Kylo seems uncharacteristically committed to the Supreme Leader role in TROS, considering he ended TLJ in a supplicating position fixing regretful eyes up towards Rey, luckily TROS did at least maintain the Force bond. …or at least the concept of it, because in execution the Force bond scenes achieved approximately nothing of what TLJ so uniquely excelled at: Creating a sense of intimacy, understanding, and forbidden tenderness between Rey and Ben. Instead of soft-spoken entreaties and promises across the soft glow of a fire or the dappling light of rain (ugh, remember the way light and shadow literally played out in contrasts across Kylo’s face during “I am a monster”? TLJ is a cinematic wonder, pass it on), we get scenes where the two yell and spit spite at each other. Most frustrating is how absolutely out of touch Kylo’s dialogue is with the Ben who was revealed through previous Force bond scenes. In a regression that makes absolutely no sense after Ben’s big proposal of “It’s time to let old things die: The Jedi, the Sith… I want you to join me” – he literally has the most reductive, bland, and meaningless lines such as “I will find you and turn you to the dark side.” ……..? Kylo has literally never been that boring or straightforward ever, not even since the TFA interrogation scene. He offered to be her teacher, sure, but never on terms that simplistic or blatantly combative to Rey’s will.

What I’ve always passionately loved and defended about Reylo is that Kylo never forced Rey to do anything harmful or against her will. Even pushing her to the painful moment of admitting the truth (or so we FUCKIN’ THOUGHT) about her parentage during the throne room scene did, in the end, help her character come to terms with repressed trauma and move forward in her journey of self-determination. (haha look at me, still stuck in my feminist goggles as if they haven’t been ripped off my head by TROS…) The point is: The TLJ Force bond was never a means of threat. It was never a tool for Kylo to say something as blatantly antagonistic as “I will find you and turn you to the dark side.” (Wow, did a Kindergartener write that? Come the fuck on, JJ.) And I was deeply disappointed to see the Force bond reduced to a tool used only to tell a part of the story unrelated to Reylo; rather than being the means of developing their relationship in and of itself.

This feeds into my overall biggest grievance with how Kylo/Ben was handled in this film. Similar to the Force bond – Ben’s character was reduced to a secondary prop piece who mostly served only as a narrative device in advancing the Rey-Palpatine plotline. Look, I imagined for months ahead of TROS the kind of candid Force bond conversations we might hear. Like “No one (knows me)” / “But I do.” (Where the FUCK did that line go?! Apparently JJ doesn’t know her…) Or perhaps Ben apologizing and opening up to Rey about how unhappy he is in the dark, how alone he feels. Instead…. we got shit like “You’re his granddaughter.” Like how dare they disrespect Academy Award Nominee Adam Driver’s talent like that?

Now, looking past the fact for a moment that the Rey-Palpatine addition is insulting, unoriginal, and sexist; there could have been a very interesting dynamic here. We would have the grandson of Vader and the granddaughter of Palpatine feeling very different pulls to both light and darkness, Force bonded together as they struggle with the weight of these legacies. Kylo, I imagine, was probably partially excited when he learned it, because maybe this means that Rey would understand him fully and perhaps this time, once she learned the truth, she would finally be with him. But nope, we don’t get nearly that much of a look into Kylo’s head. He does say at one point “You can’t go back to her (Leia), just like I can’t,” but the line missed the mark a bit for me because TROS still had Kylo appealing to Rey from the perspective of “Join the dark side as if we’ve done away with all that grey morality complexity we introduced last movie” – rather than from the perspective of “Neither of us should feel alone ever again.”

I’m rather unspeakably bitter that we had no exploration into what Palpatine’s return meant for Ben. I imagine he would have gone a bit wild upon learning that the man who was responsible for his grandfather’s fall was still alive. And the revelation of “I have been every voice you’ve ever heard inside your head”? This was enough to bring Ben Solo stans to tears before we even watched the movie, and yet it was treated completely off-handedly. Ben never even gets his own moment of coming to terms with Palpatine’s return. No “My grandfather killed you – how is this possible?” Nothing like that at all – even though he’s the character who would be most affected by his return in terms of legacy implications. Nope; Ben’s first encounter with Palpatine at the beginning of the movie – the same encounter where we learn Palpatine has apparently been behind all of the dark side grooming, manipulation, and isolation Ben has suffered since he was literally in the womb – quickly veers towards “Kill the girl / She is not who you think she is.” Early warning here that Ben Solo as a character in dire need of resolution is about to be treated with utter apathy by this film.

Here’s where I need to pause for a moment of self-awareness. While arguing with my Dad about this movie (he loved it), he threw at me that he thought I was being anti-feminist because I disliked the ending of Rey being alone. I quickly did my best to disabuse him of the idea that feminism = women being forever alone. This did make me think though about the implications of TROS veering away from the dual protagonist story framework that had been established up to this point; in favor of a narrative with Rey as the single and clear protagonist. The two main reasons I had such a knee-jerk reaction against this shift were A) It left a bad taste in my mouth after Rey ended TLJ emboldened by her acceptance of her past and unremarkable lineage; and B) It upended Reylo as the foundation of the entire story – also which we’d been led to expect. And I’m not just talking TLJ – I’m referencing back to JJ’s own Director’s commentary for TFA where he says “Now back to the story we really care about” when the film goes back to Rey and Kylo’s forest battle; who described Kylo as “a sort of prince,” and insinuated “you get the feeling there’s more going on here” when Kylo decided to spirit off Rey on Takodana. JJ set all the fucking clues here and then apparently forgot about each and every one.

However – am I perhaps not being fair to Rey in my disappointment that she doesn’t end the film in domestic bliss with Ben? Was I expecting something beneath her potential? Can I really say it’s a bad thing that the narrative rearranges itself in this film to focus chiefly on her? 

The reason it all sits so wrong with me is because Rey’s characterization became bastardized for the sake of her solo narrative. Her character was essentially entirely effaced. The emphasis of her journey thus far pointed towards the crafting of one’s own identify; to the fact that might and greatness can reside within anyone, and it is up to that person alone to decide what kind of life to live with such power. Rey’s development at the end of TLJ indicated she’d found freedom from her past, and was now fully embracing the act of forging her own path without any constraints or shadows. But then, this road she’d been paving for herself was abruptly switched in TROS to one already completed and well-traveled, lined with unoriginal identity struggles and a copout for assigning Rey’s instincts of aggression and passion to the hereditary and ungendered “dark side.” This sudden switch stripped away all of Rey’s unique identity struggles, as well as her agency to define her own story.

Confining Rey to such an unoriginal and unfortunate struggle also required that her own goals and desires be changed as well. When faced with a legacy of evildoers, Rey’s story immediately shifts away from being focused on her, and rather to remedying the mistakes of men who came before. Rey’s own story was about a thousand times more interesting when she was in the center of it. As a twitter post I saw a few days ago but now frustratingly can’t find said very aptly: Male viewers found “Rey Skywalker” satisfying because they see a happy ending as being the “best” or the most powerful. Female viewers see a happy ending as being truly seen, understood, and valued for the person one is. (If anyone knows the source, please let me know...)

Rey used to say she wanted to learn “her place in all this.” That doesn’t indicate a thirst for greatness or power; but rather for belonging and connection. She has spent most of her story so far thinking back to her parents, then spent a solid 2 minutes in TROS looking longingly and smiling at the alien babies on Pasaana, which hello motherhood signaling. She has been happiest in moments when she felt valued and connected to those around her.

The idea of having greatness bestowed upon her by some external entity (aka a man) was already examined and rejected in TLJ. (Read: throne room proposal scene.) But in TROS, this act of external determination is thrust onto her regardless of her will. In so doing, her possession of a legacy rewrites and predetermines all of her goals, battles, and the key facets of her identity. She no longer has the freedom to embrace and cherish her found or chosen family; instead, her goal is to rid herself of the “family” that’s been thrust upon her – making what’s now presumably her happy ending of being disconnected from her assigned family the complete opposite from everything her character previously yearned for. Standing alone in a desert with the company of only half-remembered spirits is likely what filled the nightmares of young Rey of Jakku.

This is, of course, why the dual protagonist/Reylo narrative we expected to see in this film was so compelling. While doing none of Rey’s decision-making for her or removing any agency from the formation of her own identity; her force-bonded relationship with Ben offered Rey belonging, understanding, and purpose. Ben was the only character who could understand how debilitating and frightening it was to feel her Force sensitivity come alive and waver between the light and dark; just as he was the only one who could comfort her in that conflict without infringing on her independence. Once we saw dark!Rey in that D23 footage, I think every Reylo imagined scenes where Palpatine begins to sink his control into Rey’s mind and Ben rushes to her side to pull her back towards the light, because he knows all too well what those voices are like inside his head and he’d rather hear them all again than watch Rey suffer it.

From several perspectives, Reylo fighting and defeating Palpatine together is also the only ending that makes sense from a holistic storytelling perspective. (I mean both of them wielding blue sabers against Palpatine and fighting together in tandem – rather than that single crowd-pleaser shot of them hefting their complementary lightsabers together before Ben gets brushed off into a pit…) While Ben is the legacy character, representing all that our beloved original characters fought and suffered for; Rey is the new-generation character, representing a new age and the banishing of old mistakes which continued to perpetuate conflict. Only these representatives of new and old; of royal legacy and self-made upstart; could truly banish all of the harm committed in the galaxy by Palpatine and remedy all the loss and suffering effected throughout the Skywalker line. To have only a single character recently revealed to be related to Palpatine facing him alone (no matter how “badass” that might make said female character seem by superficial standards), rather than a union with the single remaining descendant of the Skywalker line himself is simply unsatisfactory and directionless storytelling. It is Palpatine’s manipulation towards three generations of Skywalkers that was the sole catalyst for all of the warfare, struggle, and conflict we’ve witnessed throughout this entire 9-film series. To not even engage with Ben Solo-Skywalker’s troubled relationship to that heritage and to completely fail in realizing the emotional catharsis and resolution that stood there waiting is nothing short of infuriatingly shortsighted storytelling. J.J. claimed in several interviews that this film was crafted with the entire preceding story in mind, as a cap to everything that came before. I have absolutely no idea which story he was referring to.

And so, from the perspectives of this film alone, the sequel trilogy, and the entire 9-film saga as a whole – Yes, I do claim that it was a poor decision in terms of story telling and character integrity to reconfigure the narrative to focus solely on Rey. For the reasons just mentioned, it was an utter disservice to Rey’s character arc. To reduce all of the tragedy, charisma, and youthful potential in Kylo/Ben’s character to a secondary narrative device is nothing short of shameful. Not to mention wasting all of Adam’s potential for playing truly heart-wrenching scenes of Ben’s penitent soul-searching. I will never forgive the fact that Ben had literally not a word of dialogue after his quick conversion scene halfway through the movie. Not only does he play no major role in the final battle with Palpatine, but aside from charging in heroically and doing a phenomenal Solo Shrug, he isn’t allowed a single moment of interiority. He has no speech to Palpatine declaring his change of heart and his reclaimed heritage. Perhaps most painful of all – he and Rey never even have their Big Talk where we expected Ben to apologize for the doings of Kylo Ren and for both of them to affirm their desire to be together and their devotion to each other. Adam did a pretty amazing job demonstrating all that in how he cradled Rey’s body and couldn’t even bear to look into her lifeless face (RIP my heart). But no matter how phenomenal and tender the Reylo kiss was, how luminous Rey’s smile was when she said “Ben,” and how achingly loving his eyes were when he looked at her – I can’t help feeling crushingly cheated that their love itself wasn’t what enabled the victory. Rather than the strength they lent to each other through a union that defied light-dark dichotomy (as it should have been and as the story was previously leading towards), it was rather Rey’s miracle heritage that won the day. The fact that Ben never says a damn word when he stands before Palpatine, or when Rey kisses him and he finally realizes she does care for him too – makes both their bond and Ben’s entire character feel like a throw-away prop only there for Rey to wear so long as this feeble story needed it.

I’ve been trying to put my finger on what made TROS’ plot so underwhelming and lifeless compared to TLJ or even TFA. The difference between TLJ and TROS in the simplest terms is that TLJ’s narrative was character-driven, whereas TROS subjected its characters to a narrative. Rather than a huge space battle, TLJ’s biggest moments are Rey and Kylo’s throne room proposal and Kylo and Luke’s showdown on Crait. Both of these moments had huge emotional stakes for the characters involved, which was what made them epic. TROS’ narrative, meanwhile, uses twists like the Rey Palpatine reveal to manipulate its characters in inorganic directions, and builds towards a finale that is unrelated to any of the long-standing challenges our heroes have confronted throughout the story. TROS derided its characters down to mere tools for a superficial spectacle of a story. TLJ, on the other hand, made its characters the story. It’s no wonder I found myself strangely numb and disconnected the first time I saw TROS.

Now, I’m just angry and disappointed. Disappointed that such brilliant, wonderful characters were wasted. Angry that we’ve imagined a hundred endings more appropriate and fair to the characters we hold dear. I am trying to appreciate what I can from the film and hold on to the few beautiful moments, but I definitely plan on writing my own fic version of how TROS might have played out, had it upheld the complexity and integrity of its characters. Even still, I’m quite sure we all know and understand Ben Solo much better than J.J. or Chris Terrio, so in our hearts Ben will find the happy ending he deserves.

[copperbadge]

Do you have any thoughts about the announced adaptation of 'the City Watch' books by BBC America? Opinions seem pretty mixed in the fandom and I'd love to hear your take?

For a show I was almost definitely never going to watch from the outset, I have more thoughts about the Watch adaptation than I really know what to do with, to be honest. It’s actually hard to assemble them coherently. 

There are basically three strands of opinion I have about watching The Watch: personal, critical, and literary. 

The personal: 

I don’t have a great history of enjoying media adaptations of Terry Pratchett’s work. One reason I didn’t watch Good Omens until a month or two after its release is that I knew this about myself and I didn’t want to turn it on, get disappointed, and turn it off, as I’d done with The Hogfather (we need not speak of The Animated Soul Music, lord). Granted, the Death books are not my favorites, so I was never going to deeply engage with The Hogfather, and then they came out with The Colour Of Magic, another non-favorite, so I skipped it, and so I was super disengaged by the time Going Postal came out (though I should really give Going Postal a chance because I do love Going Postal as a book). So I acknowledge this isn’t objective, this is personal, but it’s still a factor.  

So I’m not coming into this whole situation with The Watch as someone who actually wants, or enjoys, TV adaptations of Pterry’s books, Good Omens notwithstanding – and let’s be real, Good Omens is an outlier. It was a collaboration, one of the original authors had deep control over the adaptation, and also Good Omens isn’t a Discworld book. It’s much more thoroughly rooted in our known reality, which makes it easier to convey to television. But my ultimate point is that when I hear about a Discworld book being adapted to TV, I shrug and move on. I have the books. I don’t need the shows. 

The critical: 

I think it is a bad habit of fandom that we extrapolate a lot of inference from a relatively small amount of data – we tend to take a couple of photos, a press release, some casting information, and very quickly make a large set of assumptions. It’s not necessarily that these assumptions are wrong, but we jump to a lot of conclusions. I’m thinking of early backlash over Good Omens, which I don’t even remember what it was about but I remember Gaiman having to get pretty stern about “could you wait until at least the trailer is out before jumping down my throat”. I’m also thinking of the casting of David Thewlis as Remus Lupin, which was not well-received until we saw more than blurry set photos. 

Now, all that having been said, some of the casting news has been…difficult. On the one hand, a Black Sybil Ramkin? Sign me the fuck up. On the other, I know that for a lot of people, having a Sybil who is both large and older is really important (I think it’s important too). Especially if Vimes is older, it’s creepy and backwards to have Sybil be young and hollywood-idea-of-pretty (even if the time travel element is involved, it gets into a weird area). Also, I’m really over only ever casting people of color as villains or supporting-role-women. Vimes canonically comes from a “poor but respectable” neighborhood that could easily be reframed as an ethnic neighborhood, which would be especially pointed and interesting given his family’s long connection to the history of the city. An Indian or part-Indian Sam Vimes would be really, really interesting and cool, for example. 

There’s also a lot of discussion about casting a nonbinary person as Cheery and explicitly setting Cheery up as nonbinary, as opposed to explicitly a trans woman*, especially since in the books she identifies as a woman, not as nonbinary. But I’m not entirely sure if Cheery as nonbinary is actually going to be canon or if that’s just the reporting on the show not knowing how to handle the whole Female Dwarf situation. Not everyone interprets Cheery as trans at all, either, because of how dwarf gender identity works, which complicates matters somewhat, so I’m not going to wade too far into these waters. I do think it’s great enby actors are getting work in enby roles, but there’s some issues there that need further examination. 

(* Note -- corrected the above after it was pointed out to me that NB are not trans light; I’ve changed it to trans woman rather than trans-as-umbrella-term, more here.)

So I think overall it’s early days to make a lot of calls about what The Watch will and won’t be, but I also think there’s a lot of reason to be concerned and annoyed, and that brings us to the real, hardcore reason that I saw the first reporting on The Watch and immediately noped out: 

The literary:

“Punk rock thriller.”

Oh go fuck yourself. 

Despite everything I said above about not making snap judgements I immediately read that it would be a dark punk rock thriller police procedural and went “Well, guess that’s that” and walked away from the idea of being even vaguely excited about this show, because what I read demonstrated a basic, fundamental lack of grip on what the Watch books are about. 

One, the Watch books aren’t about crime. They really genuinely aren’t. The crimes are macguffins on which to hang social commentary about other things entirely. Even in the very earliest Watch books, when Pterry was still mostly making fun of high fantasy, the crimes the Watch investigated were committed in the service of a larger discussion about things like totalitarianism, interculturalism, and civic life. There’s at least one moment, and I believe several but I’d have to re-read the books to be sure, where Pterry explicitly makes fun of murder mysteries where the hero Solves Crimes Like Sherlock Holmes. Vimes hates clues. Feet Of Clay has an extended subplot about how you 100% cannot trust clues even when the author is the one feeding them to you. I do not want a Watch series that is about Clues.  

Two, the Watch books are explicitly the antithesis of the action genre. They have action in them, but the point is that nobody in these books are action heroes; they’re ordinary people attempting to go about their jobs in a situation where that constantly becomes increasingly difficult. I read “punk rock thriller” and I thought to myself of the dedication of Guards! Guards!: 

They may be called the Palace Guard, the City Guard, or the Patrol. Whatever the name, their purpose in any work of heroic fantasy is identical: it is, round about Chapter Three (or ten minutes into the film) to rush into the room, attack the hero one at a time, and be slaughtered. No one ever asks them if they want to. This book is dedicated to those fine men.

This does get a bit tricky because by the end of Snuff, Vimes is very heroic, almost too heroic for my comfort, but at the same time his heroism is of a very specific sort: he is heroic not because he slaughters the palace guard who get in his way or shoots the baddie or blows up a cop car with a helicopter (or vice versa) but because he deeply, intensely hates those things, and wants nothing to do with them. He is heroic because he is forced into it by circumstance, but spite in the face of monstrousness is what powers him. I think of The Fifth Elephant, where Vimes has just killed a werewolf: 

There were a lot of things he could say. “Son of a bitch!” would have been a good one. Or he could say, “Welcome to civilization!” He could have said, “Laugh this one off!” He might have said, “Fetch!” But he didn’t, because if he had said any of those things then he’d have known that what he had just done was murder.

I don’t trust someone who thinks The Watch should be reimagined as a thriller to understand Sam Vimes. Like, there’s room for interpretation as to Vimes’ character, but there is a fundamental underlying bedrock Vimes is built on and if you don’t grasp the broad points of that, you’re just writing a cop show with some names stitched on.  

Three, the Watch books aren’t a static series, they aren’t like cozy mysteries where the circumstances change but the hero rarely does. That’s nothing against cozy mysteries; I love mystery novels and some of my favorites involve characters who don’t even age over the course of the forty years the books were written in. But you cannot pastiche the Watch and expect it to work. 

Again this is a bit of extrapolation based on low amounts of data but I think it’s probably accurate – the casting indicates that either we’re dealing with the events of Night Watch or at the very least heavily engaged with aspects of it. But Night Watch, while I think it’s one of Pterry’s best books hands down, doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It is one point in a very specific developmental arc, not just for Vimes but for the entire Watch. If we’re dealing just with the plot of Night Watch (which I don’t think we are) that’s tough to pull off. If, as I suspect, they’re going to be pulling from various aspects of various Watch books, then that’s just fucking nonsense. 

Even Carrot, who is a very constant figure, undergoes some fundamental shifts in personality between Guards! Guards! and, say, The Fifth Elephant. Vimes, while maintaining his personal moral and ethical code, undergoes a radical shift between Guards! Guards! and Night Watch, and he continues to develop emotionally and in some ways spiritually up until Snuff. The Vimes who bitches about diversity in hiring in Men At Arms will not react to any given situation the way the Vimes who befriends the goblins in Snuff will. 

And because these books also all address very specific issues, you can’t just slam them all together and expect to get anything resembling the Watch as Pterry envisioned it over the course of the books.

So while I love the comedy, the characters, the plots, even the macguffin crimes, I believe that a Watch book – a Discworld book of any kind – without that satirical bite is just a high-fantasy husk. There’s no point to it, nothing that sets it apart from a bad Saturday Night Live skit about Game of Thrones. The tv series might actually turn out great and all my concerns will have been unfounded, but first looks aren’t promising on a number of really basic levels. 

So we’ll see. If I’m wrong, great; the show will probably electrify fandom in the same way Good Omens did. If I’m right, well, I had no hopes to begin with, so I’ll just enjoy re-reading Night Watch, which is the book that got me back into fandom and which you can all blame for my presence here today. :D

[atomicblasphemy]

In the sign of evil

She kept thinking of her battle with the Emperor.

Not the battle itself, or how it would play out next time around, although it would be a lie to say such thought didn’t occupy her mind. After all, she made it through him with barely enough time to save Eda, King, and that other one.

Instead, what truly kept her up at night, what truly haunted her was what she saw in that creature’s eyes. First, she saw what could only be described as pure, unadulterated evil. Something Luz, who had thus far lived a mostly comfortable life, sheltered from the true perils of both worlds she knew, was unacquainted with. In her original realm sure she saw some small glimpses of it. There was the fact that she had for a long time been ostracized by her school peers, made to feel ashamed of being who she really was. But perhaps a more appropriate name for that would be the irreflected propensity for cruelty that some children, in both realms come to think of it, seemed to be obsessed with. Nevertheless, age and the ensuing experience it brings should rid most such children of these evil seeming impulses. And here in the Boiling Isles, even if she could count with a mostly reliable source of protection in her friends and, of course, in her mentor, she had not been unscathed from the semblance of evil’s claws coming to try and reach, abduct her from safety. She could, of the top of her head name at least four names for the list of unrepentant evil doers: Adegast, Tibbles, Boscha and, of course, Lilith. Then again, if anything, Adegast was motivated by sheer spite and while that alone made that monster a threatening foe, it might not be enough for him to entirely qualify to such a strong word as evil; Tibbles was a capitalist, his motivations were simply profit, an opportunist, which meant his approach to morality may be more than a bit lax, frankly Luz wasn’t all too sure whether to call that pig like witch evil or just immoral; as for Boscha, the same as for her bullies back in the human realm applies, whether she was truly an evil doer or just a misguided kid was for time to decide; Lilith, in all frankness Luz failed to come up with any significant argument to abstain her from the title of evil doer, but given how instrumental she was on freeing Eda and King from capital punishment, and then relieving her sister of her curse, Luz ruled in favor of conceding her the benefit of doubt.

However, the Emperor’s eyes… They carried within them an aura far deeper and so much more horror inducing than all of those past experiences combined. She was in those two wholes, those all consuming voids the bottoms of depravity. Ambition corrupted to its furthest extreme. Whatever that creature was, because she held close to her the belief that no witch nor human would ever be capable of conjuring such dread in her very soul, Luz prayed it had no peers, and she wouldn’tbelieve for even the shortest of instants that its plans weren’t boorish, as he himself put it. Truly, defeating that horror was imperative, both for her own sake, as well as for life itself.

Still, none of that was what made sleep avoid her. No, she had seen something else, something other than evil, in those bottomless pits. Something about which the girl simply couldn’t help but to allow her inquisitive mind to ponder.  

There was no mistaking it, she saw a glyph, one unlike anything she had ever seen before. It was intricate, one could even say that, had they been found elsewhere, that the lines and shapes therein were even beautiful, entrancing even.

Luz had replicated it in a small piece of paper, and whenever she found herself alone she would turn her gaze upon it. She knew what a Faustian bargain was, she had read about it in her literature class back at human school, but she never expected to find herself pondering whether or not make one of her own. On one hand, this could bring about the most nefarious effects and essentially grant her foe an uncontested victory, which might as well be tantamount to the destruction of both realms. On the other hand, maybe this could prove to be the source of a power to rival his own, and this could certainly be extremely useful in helping her to release everyone she knew, everyone she cared about, everyone she loved, from the agony of living under that tyrant’s ironclad fist.

She tentatively raised her finger towards the glyph, she had made several in an effort to make sure not to forget anything, down to the smallest detail. She wanted to activate it, she felt as though the risk could be worth it; she wasn’t a magical powerhouse, so whatever its effects were they wouldn’t likely be all that expressive. Right?

Still, it was to risky to do it alone. And she couldn’t jeopardize Eda’s well being further. No, that was unthinkable, luckily for her there were three young witches she knew she could count on.

----------------------------------------------------

“Luz, Amity said she would probably have to stay late in class today and its been almost half an hour.” Gus said, trying his best no to sound discouraging. “I can wait a bit longer, no problem, but maybe we should go ahead with it.”

“Yeah.” Willow spoke, equally trying to sound calming despite her nerves being entirely on edge. “Besides, we don’t what this thing does. And, I think us three should be about enough for this… experiment.”

The three of them sat on an empty classroom, four identical copies of the glyph sitting on a small desk around which the three of them stood, looking attentively at the pieces of paper. Luz couldn’t voice an answer. The decision weighed heavily on her shoulder. She rubbed her temples, hoping a solution would miraculously manifest itself. Amity’s presence, surely, would help her feel safer. After all, their bond had been growing steadily for sometime now, and having three powerful witches guarding her back was better than two. Right? Still, Gus’ and Willow’s words were sound.

She still can’t say a word, her breath coming with more difficulty now. She looks at her friends. She nods. And before either of them can stop her, she ignores her previous reservations and taps on one of the glyphs, activating it.

---------------------------------------

“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late. I ran into Boscha and you wouldn’t be...lieve...” Amity, having just entered the not so empty classroom, felt her words run short. The view was horrid. One of Willow’s vines hung from the ceiling, imprisoning an upside down and surprisingly bored looking Luz. Flanking her stood two figures, a red piece of cloth on which they, despite the complete absence of any sharp objects in the room, somehow had cut a vertical for going all the way up to their noses and  a couple of holes for their eyes. In their hands they held wooden rulers Gus’s made ofillusion magic, long ones at that.

“Oh, hey there Amity. Can you… maybe… help me… please?” Luz whimpered at the only friend of hers currently in the room.

“What… is going… on here…?”

“BLIGHT. BLIGHT. We are so glad you are here. We were expecting you, yes, we knew you would come eventually. How could you not be here, we were expecting you, after all?”

The only way Amity could describe the unfolding scene was as an outbreak of evil. Her once estranged friend had a manic grin on her lips, not unlike that sported by Gus. Their voices, normally so friendly were tinged by something that scared her to her core. Something underlying withing it. No, they hadn’t such sepulchral voices as the ones she heard when they spoke. She couldn’t begin to understand the scene. They were her friends, they had forgiven her past undoings. More importantly, they were Luz’s closest friends in the Boiling Isles. It was all unfathomable.

“Seriously, what in the Titan’s ever loving Isles is happening? Why is Luz tied up? And what is up with those weird masks?”

Luz, seemingly having recovered some amount of fortitude was the first one to answer.

“Oh… Well… You see… Mistakes were made today… We were waiting for you, but I decided to just go ahead with that glyph experiment I told you about and… Now they are evil… Yup, their psyches are totally corrupted… My bad.”

“What?”

“And these, dear Blight, are the unholy evil shrouds with which we hide our identities.” Willow, still sounding ominous, continued with the explanation, pointing her index finger at the rag covering face. “With those none will able to stop as we ascend.”

“What?”

“Yes, dear Blight. Look, we even made one for you too... Actually it was for this ungrateful, unambitious… uhhh… she was going on and on about how ‘no, that’s not who you are’, ‘no, those smell really, really bad’” Gus continued, stopping to shake his head with disapproving eyes at Luz, who simply answered by rolling her own eyes in annoyance. “Anyway, we trust you, dear Blight, will not be as short sighted as this fool. Join us, dear Blight. Join us on our quest for power.”

“Ok, first of all, please stop calling me dear Blight, you sound just like Lilith when I was still under her wing. Second, I still don’t know what any of you are talking about.” Amity, recovering some semblance of sense finally managed to produce a coherent sentence. Two actually.

“Ah yes, dear Blight. We haven’t told you of our plans, have we?” Willow answered as the faint sound of Amity’s huff could be heard. “We shall take over the world, and we want you to join us. Soon the Boiling Isles, nay all the realms, shall tremble at the sound of our mighty RRROOOAAARRRS.” She actually made justice to that last word.

“Why? Willow, Gus… Why would you guys ever want to do something like that? Also… HOW?” She shoots wide eyed glances at the upside down Luz, who was now swinging back and forth, whether trying to loosen the grip of Willow’s vines or just to amuse herself Amity couldn’t tell. “Did… Did the glyph awaken some hidden power within them?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

“Yup… I mean, look at these things. Don’t you think they would have done better than that if it did? Like, Gus didn’t even conjure a couple of swords for crying out loud.”

“SILENCE, TRAITOR.” Gus yelled as he whacked Luz over the head with his illusion wooden ruler. “Now, dear Blight, you asked how we intend to achieve such, admittedly, ambitious goals. The answer is simple, dear Blight. By overthrowing that lowly Emperor and seizing the throne for ourselves. How else would achieve the power we so deeply crave?”

“Again… How exactly do you plan on doing that?”

They let out a loud “Ehh” while shrugging.

“We’ll figure it out as we go.” Willow attempted. “Besides, that’s where you come in, dear Blight. You were always the top student of this proud institution, were you not? You shall be the planner, I shall be the raw muscle, and Gus the charisma. We will make such formidable, unstoppable force, you’ll see.” Lifting that red rag with the hand not holding her weapon, Willow proceeded. “Now, put this on and join us, dear Blight.”

Amity sighed once. Then again. Rubbing her temples with both her hands she tried to process all that she learned since entering this forsaken room. She looked her the eyes of horror that took over her possessed friends. Raised both her hands in a deceivingly amicable gesture that actually aimed at eventually disarming the two of them. She, unlike them, had a plan.

“Now, guys. Why don’t we all calm down, talk this out? Willow, you could start by letting Luz loose.” Amity spoke, slowly walking towards Willow and Gus. Luz was still swinging back and forth to the point Amity actually began to believe it was out of sheer boredom, the again, she knew the girl had been in direr straits before. Gus’ and Willow’s began showing the faintest signs of suspicion. “I mean, think about it, you guys don’t even have a plan. And I really can’t help you with this one. But more importantly, this isn’t who you OUCH! What did you do that for?”

“BLASPHEMER!” Gus, having just beaten Amity over the head, yelled. The witchling’s strike actually felt like metal as the weapon collided with Amity’s.skull “How dare you, loathsome Blight, mock the brilliance of our design? THOU SHALL KNOW OUR WRATH!”

And, like that, Gus and Willow raised their weapons, to which Amity responded by bravely running in the opposite direction, looking at Luz in hopes of the girl offering her a solution, she just shrugged.

“I don’t know... all I did was activate the glyph and things started escalating pretty quickly.”

Amity thought of her short life. Had she had time to make up for her numerous mistakes? What would her family make of her demise? She, honestly, expected a more glorious death, perhaps even fighting the Emperor alongside Luz. Definitely, not by the hands of Gus and the girl she tormented and allowed others to torment for years, but maybe that was fitting.

She thought of Luz, she hadn’t had the opportunity to confess her feelings to her quite yet and that’s something she’d soon take to her grave. Until then, she would cherish every interaction, every word exchanged between herself and the human.

And then, two thoughts came to her. Although she possibly had just suffered blunt force trauma, this was done through the use of an illusion. A magical spell. Likewise, Luz was hanging from artificially, magically, created vines. Magic. They were all students of magic. Including herself.

Quickly turning around she summoned one of her largest abominations to date between her assailants and herself. Noticing the threat, Willow and Gus promptly shifted targets.

Progress was undeniably made.

But still, she had a job to do, and she just then noticed that amid the battle somehow a fire had started in one of the room’s corners. She had two jobs to do.

The other thing that had crossed the witchling’s mind, directly resulting from those last words Luz had told her. The glyphs. There were still three of the accursed things sitting on that small desk. A burst of brilliance commanding her to move forth. She held one glyph in each hand, admiring the design for a brief instant. It may be a long shot, but she was short on options. She took a deep breath, bracing all her determination. She had to save her friends, all of them, but especially Luz. She let out the closest thing she could think of for a half decent battle cry.

“TILL WAR!”

And she hit Gus and Willow with that mysterious magic. Now, she could only wait.

--------------------------------------------

Willow woke up, a weird smell assaulting her face. Her last memories were of being with Luz and Gus, as they went through with the glyph related experiment. She was laying on the hardwood floor, next to her Gus also seemed to be recovering his senses. Her headed ached, and judging by the grunts so did Gus’.

But that wasn’t the most surprising part of the scene. That title rested with the abomination happily waving at her while, horizontally, holding a vine wrapped Luz  over its head. She, smiled at them cheerfully. Next to them a small fire raged.

“Hey, you guys are up, thought it’d take longer. Anyway, still hellbent on overthrowing all known existence?”

“Wha… What are you talking about? What happened here?”

“Wait, I refuse to answer without today’s hero’s presence.”

As if on cue, a flustered Amity carrying a witch bucket - not to be mistaken with a human bucket - filled with water broke through the door with a loud bang. She quickly made her way to where the fire burned, making short work of killing it.

She turned around to face the newly conscious duo.

“Willow!” She exclaimed pointing at Luz. Willow quickly liberated the human, who immediately jumped towards Amity, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“My hero. And here I thought I was supposed to be the fearless champion.”

Normally, the way her pale face so easily reddened after virtually any amount of physical exertion was a constant source  of embarrassment for Amity. Now, however, she was thankful for it.

“So...” Gus, finally speaking, broke the moment. “Can you two please explain what happened?”

Amity and Luz shared a troubled glance.

-----------------------------------------------

That had been probably the most uncanny conversation any of them had ever had.  

“So, I think its safe to assume that this is some kind of dark magic glyph that turns everyone present, except the one who activated, it totally evil.” Gus said, pointing at the piece of paper on Amity’s hand. The girls nodded.

“That’s kind of like a curse isn’t it? I mean, if it wasn’t then Luz would have turned evil too, right?” Willow continued.

“Humm… Maybe… then that’d mean that the Emperor is cursed, so we could try to look into a way of reverting it... I don’t know.” Luz, rubbing her chin in an attempt to give off her most scholarly look, hypothesized.

“That is possible, but I don’t think it would be worth it. I mean, look what happened today, this kind of magic seems really dangerous. I vote against us looking into it any further.” Amity countered their arguments. The others, after some reflection, voiced their agreement. She continued, looking at Luz for permission. “So… Can I destroy this?” Luz nodded.

Her blood ran cold. As she performed the motions of ripping it a terrible accident happened.

She tapped the glyph. It activated. -------------------------------- @johnnysfire hope an eleventh hour entry is still acceptable

[bleached-d-soul]

Team ALAB: Home Sweet Home

Part 2 of Team ALAB commissions for @the-hapless-ace

When Jaune ran away from home to enroll in Beacon, his greatest fear was failing.

Now that he managed to get in the academy, fjoin a team of badass guys and even learn how to fight from them, he thought that there were few things he would be terrified of. Bullies couldn't hurt him. His grades were more or less decent. And he even managed to kill a Grimm or two by himself now! He was living the life without fear!

Until the holidays came, that is.

Winter Solaris used to be his favorite time of the year when he was a kid. You gather up with your friends and family, eat a feast of delicious food and basically relax for the entire period of the festivities. Even the Huntsmen Academies allowed their students to take a short break and go home to their families.

It was his time to go home.

Oh Gods, home...

"My parents are going to kill me."

"Kill them first then."

"You are not helping, Mercury!"

The former assassin showed no sympathy for him as he simply flipped through the comic. Then again, considering how complicated and homicidal his relationships were, Jaune couldn't blame him. But right now it wasn't Mercury Jaune was losing head about. It was his own life. His sisters would be mad. His dad would be furious. And mom... Oh Gods, mom wouldn't be mad.

She would be just disappointed.

"You know you could always stay here in Vale, right?" Ren said as he got tired of watching Jaune pace around the room. "Many students do that."

"Really?!" He was saved, wohoo! Now that he found some peace, he had a few questions. "Why are they staying though?"

"Some don't want to. Most cannot," Ren replied simply. "The latter don't have a home to go back to, that's all."

Jaune looked at his teammates. The son of the assassin who was running away from life of abuse and pain. The former terrorist exiled from his only home. And the boy who lost everyone to a Grimm. Fuck, he was feeling like such an asshole.

"You are coming with me."

All three looked up at him, confused and lost.

"Uh, Jaune? I don't think you-"

"Nope, you are coming with me, Ren. All of you are."

"Hey leader, weren't you trying to stay away from your family?" Mercury rolled his eyes. Seriously, Jaune was an okay guy but he seemed to not have much for attention span. "If this is about us killing each other without you, don't worry. Hornhead over here will be too busy stalking his ex."

"I swear to God, Black, another joke like that and I will-"

"Nope, all of you are coming with me for holidays!" Damn his cowardice! He was going to make sure the guys didn't spend the Winter Solaris alone eating some cafeteria food! "I am not taking no for an answer."

Now, all he needed to do was convince his parents to let them stay over and-

BOOM!

Something blew up in the halls.

"Where is he?!" the loud and terrifyingly familiar voice boomed through the corridors, mitigated only by even louder cries for help by the fleeing students. "Where is Jaune Arc?!"

Oh Gods, they came for him.

"He is over there! Please, don't stomp on my ballsa-AAAAAAAH!"

With a sickening crunch and then deadly silence, the four sat watching the door in suspense.

They could hear every step made towards their room but none dared to move.

They were too terrfified to move.

The blade of an axe ripped through their door, tearing the thing into bits and pieces. And now before the young men of the team ALAB stood none other than Jasmine Arc. The former Huntress. Now the mother of eight.

"Hi sweetie!" her voice dripped with warmth and love. And anger. Gods, so much anger and bloodlust even Adam found himself uncomfortable. "I decided to drop by. See how you are doing..."

Jaune gulped as he found mom's eyes staring hollowly into his.

"... and make sure you come back home for holidays!"

Before any of them could do or say anything, the young men were on the Bullhead flying back to Everwoods, the home to the Arc family.

ALAB

Adam didn't remember much of his parents.

His earliest memory was that of a dirty cell full of the other faunus children like him. Little more than cattle in the eyes of their oppressors, the kids were sent down to mine more Dust for the Schnees, as if they were not rich and fat enough. If you slacked off, you didn't get dinner. If you didn't meet your quota, you didn't get to leave the mines until you did. And if you fought back, talked back or even looked like you were thinking something other than 'Yes, sir', you got a beating. Do any of those enough times and you disappeared.

In those conditions, it was the oldest like him that had to be the parent. The mother who could comfort the smallest and weakest. The father who would give up his own stale bread and water so that others didn't starve.

Then he joined the White Fang and his fight was no longer about keeping the kids in cells fed and protected. Now he was taking them out of those cages. No matter where they went, the kids they saved from the labor camps were always the same: starving, scared and silent.

He never had a place to call home. His hoke was whichever base White Fang was situated in. The sands of Vacuo or harsh snow valleys of Atlas, none of it mattered as long as he could set another Faunus free. He never understood people who held any warmth for something as small and frail as a house.

"Waaaaaaah!"

"Shhh, Adrian, mommy is here!"

"Hey, Rouge, where did you put my book?"

"I didn't touch anything!"

"Mooom, I think the pie is burning!"

Which is why he was still unsure what he was feeling in this place. The Arc house was quite big and nice, though hardly large enough for the family of nine. It was somewhat old too. Yet none of the family seemed to mind.

There was laughter. There were jokes. Nothing so out of the ordinary and yet... Yet there was something that Adam still couldn't put his finger on. Was it the smell of all homemade food? Perhaps it was due to his increased senses that he-

"Ren, I have a problem."

"What is it?"

"There is a small child clinging to my leg." Adam pointed at the toddler who looked at him, eyes bright with some weird awe. "I think he might see me as as a threat."

"CA!"

"What is he saying?" Adam whispered as he picked the little one up. He seemed not to mind his mask, which was good enough. He would hate to remove it and get unnecessary questions asked.

"CA!"

What did that mean?

"Uh, I think he likes your horns?" Ren guessed as Adrian touched said protrusions. Did he really? Well, it was certainly a surprise. Back when he was a kid, the wardens used to push him around using his horns as one of the main targets for their verbal abuse. Why, they even called him a cow-

"MOOOOO!"

...

"Adam, are you okay? You are, uh, shaking..."

...

"Maybe I should take Adrien back to Saphron."

...

Mooo? Fucking Mooo?

"I AM NOT A DAMN COW FAUNUS!"

The room erupted in laughter. But not the kind Adam used to hear. There was no mockery or spite. Or fear and disgust. They weren't even laughing at him as much as his reaction. And somehow... Somehow he couldn't help but laugh too. Not like the brat and the sisters. Like he always did, quiet and reserved.

But a laugh nonetheless.

Adam never celebrated any holidays. Had no time. Had no desire. Why celebrate the moments of peace when his kind was still at war?

But maybe... Maybe these things weren't so bad, after all.

ALAB

Well, Adam was pissed. Which counted as good in Mercury's book.

Also, he was training with Jaune's dad, Alder. Which was pretty badass.

"You are good for your age, old man," Mercury smirked. "Too bad I am better."

"Are you sure?" and just like that, Mercury fell onto the ground, suddenly winded. What the hell? "My Semblance is called Drain. Within a certain range, it makes all the people I see slowly use up more of their stamina and Aura. Honestly, I am surprised you lasted this long. You have really good control over your body. Not something you see in a lot of young huntsmen."

Well, he wasn't the most huntsmen, was he now?

"Let's just say I didn't have a choice on that."

He didn't have the Semblance. He used to but now it was stolen, gone along with the asshole that took it from him. A part of him told him that he was crying over nothing. Without his Semblance, he was pushed to become the most vicious and efficient fighter he could be. His speed and strength were the fruits of his own work.

And hey, it was a small price to pay for his bastard dad's death.

"I am really glad my son met you guys."

Huh? "It was mostly an accident," Literally, in fact. "That crazy headmaster launched us all into the forest with a freaking catapult."

Seriously, he could have them jump off the Bullhead or something. But nooo, somehow that old psycho decided that launching them off like some paper planes was a better use of Beacon money.

"Still, I doubt Jaune would make it without you and the rest of the team," Alder said as he took a sip of his beer. Mercury wasn't quite sure why but he took a step back. No, forget that. He knew exactly why he put some distance between the two. And he hated himself for it. Hated how much power his old man had over him even now that he was dead. "You know, you are strong, Mercury."

He knew that. He had to be.

"Thanks, I guess."

"And you don't have to be a huntsman to prove it."

At that, Mercury looked at the man confused. What was that supposed to mean?

"I don't know what it is that happened to you in the past, not my place or right to pry. But I can tell from our little spar that you hate this strength you have. I can tell that you are not fighting because you decided to."

The man looked him dead in the eyes.

"You fight because you think this is the only thing you are good for."

Mercury sat silent, refusing to meet the man's eyes. What else was he good for? Dad never taught him anything beyond the simplest basics. How to write, read and count and that's it. The rest of the time was spent beating the fighting techniques into his skull. It's not like he could become an accountant or something now. At least being a huntsman would let him get his own money for whatever he wanted.

"I became a huntsman for much the same reason."

Huh?

"I thought you were some kind of town hero," Mercury could still remember all the annoying rumblings of how his dad joined Beacon to protect his home after graduating. "The whole White Knight routine and all that."

"That's only half the truth, unfortunately. Didn't want my kids to know I used to be a violent and unpleasant thug," the man chuckled. "I joined Beacon because I wanted a simple life. Be strong enough to slay a Grimm or two in some major cities. Collect enough money and live the life you want. I wanted to get out of this place so much back then. Leave and never look back."

"Let me guess," Mercury rolled his eyes. "Then you found love and decided to clean up your act?"

"No, my entire team almost died on a mission because of me."

Okay... Shit.

"I was young and reckless. But more importantly, I had nothing to lose back then. An orphan without any actual friends, all I cared about was me and what I wanted," Ardel recounted with the small sad smile. "My teammates were different. Each and one of them had something to return to. A home. A family. A lover. Something that made them so desperate to survive that they beat the impossible odds and even saved my sorry ass."

Did he have something like that though? He had no idea where his mom went. Or if he wanted to meet the woman who left him with that monster. He had no special love for his home village either. In the end, Mercury realized that he had nothing to come back to. Nobody waiting on him.

"You are young though. And I can tell you four are good for each other. Whatever comes your way, you don't have to face it alone," Alder said as he stood up and picked up his sword. "Now then, ready for another spar?"

Mercury smirked.

"I could use some more exercise."

ALAB

"Guys, dinner is ready!"

With a loud miriad of steps, the relatively big kitchen in the house of Arcs soon had no space left. The table was breaking apart under the weight of all the food, the orchestra of mouth-watering smells teasing the hungry stomachs with the promise of delectable end of the day.

But not before the man of the house finished his speech.

Which had lasted for good twenty minutes by now.

"Is he always like that?" Adam asked, not quite irritated but still hungry and exhausted from all playing with kids.

"Only when he is drunk," Jaune admitted.

"-and finally! I am happy to welcome Adam, Mercury and Ren into our family!" Alder finished, cheeks red and stance wobbling. "You three take good care of my son! And Jaune, make sure they don't have to take care of you all the time! Now, let's eat!"

The dinner began.

The table laughed, all of them exchanging their own stories and experiences.

And come the end of the night, team ALAB found themselves growing closer.

Not just teammates.

But now members of the same family.