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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5

More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.

Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.

I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go

Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming

“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear.

“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”

“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid.

“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room.

“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?”

“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.”

Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.”

“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked. “That’s gotta count for something!”

You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him.

“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”

"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."

And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.

“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.”

Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.

"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.

"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.

“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. “In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”

“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.

You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.

"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"

You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.

"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.

"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.

"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."

"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.

"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, me too." You agreed.

"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.

"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."

"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."

You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."

You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.

He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.

"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."

"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.

Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.

You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."

Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.

“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?”

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.

"On?"

"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."

"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"

You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."

"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.

"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.

"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."

"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."

“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions.

“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.”

"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"

He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"

"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."

"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."

You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."

You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.

You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."

"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."

You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?”

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.”

You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression.

Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.”

You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.”

“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours.

You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you.

“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.”

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?”

Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.”

“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.”

Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.

You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure.

“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.”

“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?”

You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.”

Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.”

“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.

“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.”

“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?”

“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.”

“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.”

This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.”

“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.”

He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?”

“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.”

He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes.

“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.”

#hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #hannigram #hannigram x reader #the sommelier #wine #tw trauma #tw victim blaming #tw alcohol

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scripttorture · 3 years

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I'm not sure if this question has been asked before, but what would be usually the reason why people would torture someone? Not to justify (torture is unjustifiable in any situation) but I really needed a driving force for a villain why they would w/o sounding ridiculous or implausible, and any reason I come up with falls kind of flat (... Which I suppose is expected, since that's how the reasonings behind tortures are in rl I guess)

I can help you out here. And I want you to know that from a writing stand point this does make perfect sense. Motivation, however shallow, is important for capturing a character.

Yes a lot of the motivations in reality are flat, shallow and outright stupid. And it can be a careful balancing act, showing those motivations making them understandable without straying into justifying them. It can also be hard to make an interesting character with flat motivations.

I think I’ll start off with talking about motivations/‘reasons’ in reality and then talk a little about when and whether we should break from reality when we write about torturers.

Remember that there isn’t a lot of research on torturers. So I’m working from the little bit of research I can access, interviews with torturers and anecdotal reports. It isn’t perfect, but this is (so far as I can tell) the best information we have at the time of writing.

Understanding why torture occurs means understanding that it is structural violence.

I do take questions on abuse, I personally don’t see much point in sticking to the strict legal definition of torture when I’m trying to help authors do a decent job portraying trauma survivors. But sometimes the definition matters. And torture is essentially defined as abuse by government employees*, by public servants in positions of authority.

Over and over again the reasons torturers give for their crimes come back to flaws in the organisations they were part of. Consistently, across cultures and time periods, they describe understaffed, high pressure environments with no training, little supervision and the instruction to produce results or else.

This combines with cultural messages that violence ‘works’ and existing sub-cultures of torturers within organisations to perpetuate abuse.

It’s also worth mentioning that for most torturers they’re coming into an organisation where there are already established sub-groups of torturers. The group dynamics do seem to play a role in all this. Though it’s difficult to say how much when we’re entirely going from what torturers say and they are… demonstrably inaccurate when it comes to talking about torture.

Having said that; torturers do seem to encourage each other to more and more acts of violence. They treat it almost competitively. They will also, sometimes, approach new recruits and bring them into the torturer sub-group, pressuring them to participate.

I’m unsure how much of a role the social factor plays in torturers starting to torture, but it definite seems to keep them torturing when they say they’d rather stop. There are a couple of reasons why.

First of all there’s a sort of implicit threat; refusing to torture is seen as a threat to the torturer sub-culture. And these are people who have already shown a capacity for violence. There have been cases of torturers attacking other members of the same organisation for their opposition to, or refusal to, torture.

There’s also a social aspect; once involved with the torturer sub-culture the individual tends to become more and more cut off from the rest of the organisation. The group of torturers becomes more or less their entire social circle.

We’re social animals. So leaving, rejecting the entire social group, is a big deal. It’s hard for us to do.

The toxic sub-culture torturers form encourages them to root part of their identity in their capacity for violence and how ‘good at it’ the other members of their group think they are. They tend to tie ideas of toughness, dependability, achievement and (often) masculinity to torture. They frame themselves as especially manly, strong and ‘willing to do the tough jobs no one else has the guts to’.

It’s complete nonsense but it’s what they do.

And it means that facing up to the fact torture is pointless feels like an attack on their self worth. A lot of them choose to double down rather then face that reality.

This isn’t a definitive list of relevant factors. It’s my assessment of the ones that always seem to show up. There are usually other factors that feed into particular situations. Rejali’s Three Systems is a worth a read on that front.

Ideas about social hierarchy and transgression are common features. So things like ‘anyone who does That Terrible Thing deserves to be tortured’ or ‘no one Like That would be in this part of town for an innocent reason’.

All of this means that motivation can be tricky to write, because the real motivations are often not the sort of thing we’re taught are ‘interesting’.

Real, honest motivations are often things like:

‘I think those people deserve it’

‘I was told to’

‘Everyone else was doing it’

‘I couldn’t think of anything else to do’

‘I got angry and took it out on someone else’

‘I thought it would work and no one ever taught me another way’

That’s not a definitive list but you get the idea. And probably get the point about these sorts of shallow motivations being narratively unsatisfying.

So let’s step back from the reality and tackle the writing problem at the heart of this: how do we make this interesting?

There are a couple of different approaches.

The first approach I see is to accept that the motivation and the villain are shallow and shift the interest away from the villain.

Villains don’t need to be interesting. And they don’t need to be the focus.

If your story is structured in a way which primarily makes the villain a looming threat and focuses on the heroes, their journey, their relationships then adding detail or depth to the villain is unnecessary.

The Lord of the Rings trilogy does this with several of its major villains. The Shape of Water does it for the main villain. Zelda: Breath of the Wild (yes I bought a switch during lock down, and it’s my first Zelda game I am not sorry) does it with Ganon.

Another approach is to accept the motivation is shallow and shift the focus away from the villain’s motivation.

Villains do not need to have a grand philosophy or deep motivation or underlying pain in order to be a good read. They don’t need to be an intellectual threat to the heroes in order to be a legitimate threat.

For instance Joker in Batman: The Animated Series, I’d argue one of the best takes on the character ever. But if you go back and watch the episodes he isn’t deep. His motivation almost always boils down to pettiness, greed and a vindictive streak a mile wide. It is incredibly shallow.

But he’s fun to watch, because he’s unpredictable and funny. He’s also a legitimate threat to the heroes because he’s so incredibly destructive. More then any other villain his crimes are aimed at effecting large numbers of people. That sets the stakes high without any motivation or philosophy coming into it.

The focus is on what he does each time he shows up, not why.

Persona 5 pulls off a similar trick. Every single one of its villains has a shallow motivation. But each of them also has power over one of the heroes or another innocent person. They don’t need a deeper or more interesting motivation in order to make life miserable for the heroes. And every caper hinges on the heroes trying to stop that worst outcome.

As much as Fullmetal Alchemist is a deep story which touches on many complex topics, neither version (the original manga or the 2003 anime with it’s very different plot) had a particularly complex villain at the end of the story. In both cases the ultimate leader of the ‘bad guys’ just wanted more power. And didn’t care how many lives they destroyed to get it.

Not all stories need a Killmonger.

It’s always worth taking the time to consider what your story needs, rather then what’s fashionable in fiction at the moment. On a personal note some of my favourite stories have been either entirely focused on the heroes or had explicitly shallow villains.

The reality is that most of the time motivations for large scale atrocities are shallow and unsatisfying. Giving fictional villains deeper or more complex motives can work, but it can also mean twisting the narrative up to make it look like the villain (and hence their actions) are more reasonable then they are.

Killmonger’s twisted vision of what would make Wakanda ‘better’ works in Black Panther, just as White Wolf’s similar motivation did in the comics a decade or so earlier. They work because they’re directly competing with the hero’s vision of what would make the world better. And because ultimately it’s about showing why T’Challa’s way is better then the villain he’s facing off against.

But I can think of other stories where giving the villain a ‘deeper’ reasoning just served to make them look reasonable. While they were arguing for torture and genocide.

And… I just think we’ve got enough of that in real life.

At the end of the day your villain should be serving a role within the story you’re creating. Motivation is one of many ways that we try to make sure they serve that function effectively and entertainingly.

But, despite what some people would have you believe, it ain’t the be all and end all of whether a villain or story is entertaining. Personality, plots, aesthetic and sometimes how satisfying it feels to see their day ruined, all feed in to how well a villain works.

The threat they represent in the story isn’t dependant on whether their motivation is deep or nuanced or rational. It’s about their ability to follow through and sometimes the horrific nature of the desire itself.

So I guess a lot of my advice here is to consider what your villain actually needs to do in the story. Then take a step back and consider whether deeper motivation adds anything to that.

Be aware that the more complex motivations and drives you add the further you’re getting from a realistic torturer. Which is not inherently apologia, or inherently a bad writing idea, but consider what any deviation from reality implies.

I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*The international definition can include groups that control territory, ie an occupying force. In some countries the definition is slightly wider and encompasses some international criminal gangs.

#writing advice #tw torture #writing torturers #behaviour of torturers #motivations of torturers #threatening villains #motivation #writing villains #effects of torture on organisations #defining torture

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yicruz48 · 4 years

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Teen Titans Review: Issue 42

Written: June/23/2020

The issue starts off with Damian recalling memories from the past that he had with Alfred. Damian looks back at this memory as a moment that Alfred gave him guidance when he felt lost in the past. And this is when we hit the biggest problem with this Issue:

I’m not denying that Alfred is not an actual support system to rely on and some sort of guiding force in his life because he is:

The thing I have an issue with, that I’ve discussed with @wesavegotham is that Alfred, primarily in Teen Titan’s has been everything but a support system to Damian. If anything, he is one of many who antagonizes him and claims that Damian knows exactly who is (When the core conflict in Damian’s character is not knowing who he is because of his upbringing in the league and his connection to Batman so that claim is stupid).

But most importantly, Alfred is portrayed as someone that Damian NEEDS in his life to make good, sensible moral decisions in this issue. And now that Damian doesn’t have him in his life he is incapable of telling good from bad.

Which if you have read Batman and Robin (2011) and R:SOB you know that Damian is self-aware of what is morally bad. As well as knowing what he did what he did in the past was wrong and why it was wrong. Sure, he had a push from Bruce but he mostly he reflected and discovered it on his own.

Writing it as if Damian doesn’t have the cognitive ability to understand that killing (even if they are evil) is wrong in current times without depending on someone else for guidance trashes his previous development. It makes it seem like Damian never learned anything from killing Nobody in Batman and Robin.

But moving on, the Issue continues with the members attempting to find out what is going to happen next with each other after breaking up last issue:

-> Damian attempting to figure out the next best way to end crime while stopping a bank robbery.

-> Crush somehow very open to becoming friends with Roundhouse after he trapped her...um...crush-love interest in her ring.

-> Wallace seemly out of no where having the desire to confess to Emiko even though there wasn’t really anything in the previous issues to make me think that he liked her. Would’ve made sense of Emiko was the one confessing since she has shown more interest in him, but whatever.

Later, the gods have appeared to have answered the members question about what to do next after breaking up: which is coming back together to find out who killed Brother Blood (not as a team as explicitly mentioned by the team several times but I guess as individuals who will work together for one last time(s?)).

Anyhow, they go into the sewers (where Brother Blood died) in order to find clues to who killed Brother Blood. As they are finding clues in a hidden location where Brother Blood had barrels of toxins to control his cronies they are interrupted by his cronies.

Their plan suddenly shifts from finding out who killed Brother Blood to stopping Brother Blood’s cronies. Once they do, they leave the scene quickly before the police catches sight of them.

The team again questions whether the death of Brother Blood was a good thing or a bad thing. Evidently having very conflicted feelings about it.

The team is ready to drift off their own ways again but Emiko is adamant about figuring out who killed Brother Blood. The team eventually decides to continue working together till they find out who killed Brother Blood.

Towards the end of the Issue Bruce suddenly remembers he has fucking son (that he probably should check on) and like Damian is very lost on how to approach and/or reconnect with Damian without Alfred around (and this my friends, is called a parallel. Which means we should probably remember this for future issues).

Conclusions:

-> So I am guessing Batman didn’t encounter the Teen Titans like in said in the solicitations? Because to me it just seemed like it picked off after where we left over last issue.

I’m guessing this was one of the changes Teen Titans took after quarantine hit? Because originally Eduardo Pansica was supposed to draw these issues (42-44) but it was suddenly switched to Javier Fernandez as if the story was scrapped.

-> Overall, surprisingly this issue wasn’t that bad besides that big issue I mentioned in the beginning.

-> It was enjoyable to see Damian not portrayed as an non-sympathetic asshole like Glass liked to portray him. With the added plus of vegan/vegetarian being brought back to canon after disappearing years ago.

-> Wished that Thompson would’ve focused more on the emotional aspect of Damian seeing his grandfather die in front of him rather than emotionally-dependent aspect of it.

-> Glad the team “broke up” I guess. Though I can’t get the feeling off like they are all in a toxic relationship they keep finding weak reasons to stay in. In the words of Roundhouse, “You all need therapy.”

-> Very confused as to why are they running away from the police when they did nothing. Was it because they trespassed?

-> There is apart of me that is questioning whether Damian did actually kill Brother Blood before meeting up with the Teen Titans and the cover was not just a ruse. It was Emiko, not Damian who brought the team together in Roundhouse’s home. Damian wasn’t interested enough to organize this meeting himself. And why would he if he was the one who killed him in the first place?

Also every time the team questioned Damian about what to do or what HE wanted to do, he kept getting flashbacks back to Alfred and him. As if he was conflicted about telling the Team something he did.

Also when he was asked if he wanted to find out how Brother Blood died he hesitated and said, “ I agree with Red Arrow. You need to know why.”

Not, “‘we’ need to know why”. Almost implicating that he knows why he died (obliviously, if he killed him) and wants to:

a) Play along because if he said no they might be suspicious of him.

b) He wants them to know it was him. Like the guilt is eating up at him or he thinks it will somehow convince him to see his way and join him.

Plus it seemed like Emiko was suspicious of Damian. She was in deep thought at Roundhouse’s home about something. She kept trying to bring the focus on the cause of Brother Blood’s death as if there was something crawling at her in the back of her mind.

But I could be wrong. it could be KG Beast who killed him (which starts off Damian on his hunt or something).

Anyways...let me know what you thought about this issue in the comments. I love to see discussions in the comments.

What is your guy’s impression on Robbie Thompson’s first issue alone?

#I imagine this issue worse in my head so I was kinda surprised #Damian Wayne #Teen Titans #Robin #Batman #Alfred Pennyworth #Crush #xiomara rojas #billy wu #roundhous #wallace west ii #kid flash #emiko queen #red arrow #flash #green arrow #yicruz48

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ginnyzero · 3 years

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Completely Harmless Ch. 54

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?

A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577

Chapter Fifty-Four CHILL-ax during Happy Horse Week!

The decorations were approved by other clubs while the few votes against them were roundly ignored. It helped that gave everyone a goodie bag and had a snack table set up with their treats and cups of apple cider mixed with ginger ale. The marble balloons had been turned into arches and pillars. She’d borrowed the flag banners from Jorvik Stable to show off what things would look like complete with hay bales.

The Councilman hadn’t been too happy about the hay bales, but Kate had promised to clean.

Everyone was relieved that Lily was okay. And they were more than willing to take shifts at the council house in order to help make the decorations they needed between breaks in training. Training that was more important than they realized.

In fact, it was Herman that clued Lily in as she waited her turn to run through the show jumping event set up in the Arena.

“Really looking forward to seeing all you girls at the County Fair this year,” he said with a big grin on his face. Leaning against the fence of the riding arena he looked almost lazy as he watched the girls.

Lily looked down at him and put a hand on her horse’s neck. “Herman, I think you’re forgetting that most of us have never lived here before. Or should I be asking Linda or Pauline?”

Herman glanced up, the grin didn’t fade. “Didn’t forget. Didn’t know you didn’t know.”

Lily rolled her eyes. Her stallion tossed his mane.

“There’s an eventing contest held at the County Fair every year. It’s the first qualifier for the Claymore Challenge. Every club comes and tries out. Course, last year, and the year before that, and the year before that, was just the Bobcats and the Bulldogz. Be nice to see them have a bit of competition.”

Lily’s brow furrowed. “But we’re collecting ribbons,” she said slowly drawing it out.

“Gotta train your horse and get it into condition so it knows what it’s doing. Practice is one thing, Lily girl, doing exhibition is another. The lights, the crowds, you don’t know how your horse is going to react. Depends on the crowd too.” Herman sucked his teeth. “Yep, some mighty fine riders in practice can’t make it through exhibitions.”

Lily pressed her tongue to her back teeth and looked off to the side as her brows furrowed. “Qualifiers,” she said after a few moments and not coming into any conclusions.

“Yep, helps me winnow it down. I know you’re all doing well in your ribbons. You can’t all go to the Claymore Challenge as much as I’d like to send you all. One Club per county. Thems the rules.”

Lily looked down at him. “I wasn’t given any rule list when I made the club. How many members are we allowed to have maximum anyways?”

“Fifty.”

Lily blinked. There went the plan to merge clubs to get around that pesky rule. “Well, we’re a bit beyond 100 people, Herman. I think we’re hitting closer to 200.”

Herman grinned. “And you wouldn’t believe how proud I am of that, all of you choosing to leave Moorland and form clubs to help out the district. Brings a tear to me old eyes, it does.”

Lily snorted. She shifted her attention. Tracey rode around the track keeping her posture upright as her stallion took the turns.

“You’re doing good things,” Herman rocked back and forth on his feet.

“If you say so,” Lily glanced back at him.

“You don’t think so?”

“I think I’m doing what needs to be done whether it’s good or bad, I can’t say.” Lily gripped the reins in her hands turning them over between her fingers. “I’m doing the best I can or we are, or I hope we are. One never knows. You have a lot of things you don’t tell newcomers, like, qualifiers being at the County Fair.”

Herman chuckled. “You’re revitalizing this county.”

“You didn’t need me for that, you just needed to act.”

“Mrs. X of CHILL wants to meet you,” Herman said.

“Fancy that,” Lily said in a dry voice. “I’m not surprised.”

“Alone.”

“Of course,” Lily murmured. “Because what other way do you meet the leader of a secret organization that,” she paused. “What does CHILL do?”

“Put nails in the road for G.E.D.,” Herman said.

“Your horse idioms are so lovely, Herman,” Lily said. “Where is she?”

“Observatory 12 in Epona.”

Lily backed her stallion away from the fence. “And let me guess, she wants to see me as soon as possible.”

“You know how this works.”

“Way too many crime shows, way, way too many.”

Herman laughed.

“How cliché can you get?” Lily muttered and nudged her horse into a trot. The nearest transport to the Observatory was in Crescent Moon Village she thought. Hillcrest and the Dews Farm in Epona were getting transports set up still. Hillcrest’s was in need of a major repair since someone had tried to use the truck to ram the wall. (It hadn’t worked.)

She took the transport to Crescent Moon Village and went directly down the road through the Marsh and up the side of the mountain to the Observatory perched on the edge of the Cauldron opposite of Hillcrest.

Dismounting, she opened the huge doors of the observatory a crack and slipped inside.

It wasn’t as dark as she’d thought it be. Sunlight streamed in through the small windows illuminating the place.

“I’m glad you came,” Mrs. X said from the middle of the room. She smoothed the skirt of her ankle length green dress, but a deep hood obscured her face.

Lily stepped closer. Mrs. X’s face was also covered with a mask. Crossing her arms, Lily stopped. “I don’t deal with people who hide their faces.”

“My identity is a closely guarded secret, one I’d like to keep that way.”

Lily pressed her lips together. “You’re either trying to recruit me. Or, you have a message for me. Spit it out one or the other.”

“You’ve impressed me.”

“Funny, you don’t sound impressed.”

“You’ve interfered with a major operation. Hillcrest is only a small part of the G.E.D.’s plans for the Harvest and Epona Districts. You’ve set me back months of work.”

“You, lady, are a vigilante.” Lily lifted a finger off of her arm. “You run around in the shadows not sharing information with the authorities, and causing more problems than you solve because you won’t work within the boundaries of the law.”

“The law has failed us.”

“So, Bernie Winterwell didn’t want to leave his house and was happy to be bribed. Was it a moral failing? Or is House of Winterwell in dire straits? Or is there another reason? I don’t know. I don’t care. If Baron Winterwell isn’t doing what you need to do, you go to Count Marchenghast.”

“He’s ill. The Countess is overwhelmed. They’re too young and inexperienced to handle the G.E.D.”

Lily’s lips parted. “Really? Because, Mrs. X., I’m what, sixteen, and I’ve handled them just fine by oh, seeing that they don’t have the proper paperwork or you know, put people in actual danger and taken this to the people in charge like the Rangers and the nobles who run this county and they’ve managed to take care of things with the information me and my girls have provided them. I do not feel that the people of Hillcrest are an acceptable sacrifice so you can try to stop the grander scheme and get the higher ups.”

“You are too young to understand.”

“I understand that right now you’re no better than the druids, most of whom, also wear hoods and also, who I will not have anything to do with unless they show their faces. Here’s my message to you, it’s the same one I gave to Elizabeth Sunbeam. You lead and take action instead of observing and waiting. You follow. Or you get the hell out of my way. The people of Hillcrest will not thank you for standing by and watching.”

“Jarlaheim is in great danger. You don’t understand how great.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Yes. We know. You remember Mayor Elaine. She was in Hillcrest. She knew what Ms. Drake was up to. Ms. Drake has been arrested. Given her lawyers, she probably won’t be in there for long. But it’s a good way to stall them and give time for Mayor Elaine to recover and take control over Jarlaheim.” Lily turned on her toe and grabbed the door. Pulling it open, she looked over her shoulder. “Come out of the shadows, Mrs. X, and into the light.” She walked out shutting the door gently behind her.

“People,” she said to her stallion.

He whuffled.

Lily mounted and turned him around down the mountain. “Vigilantism, peh.”

He nodded his head.

“Jarlaheim is in great danger,” Lily mocked. “Gee, you think? I mean, there aren’t four dig sites around the place, probably illegal dig sites, run by the G.E.D. if it’s not in great danger. Like, I don’t have girls in every stable and town and farm in this county by now. And do you know what we teenage girls like to do?”

He knocked his ear back seemingly interested.

“Share information. People might call this gossip. Because they only hear about who is dating who and who is fighting and what embarrassing thing happened to so and so this week. But there is important information among the trivia.” She patted his neck. “Sometimes, if the mare is fat, it’s not that she’s actually fat, she’s pregnant.”

He whinnied.

“Exactly, you get it.” Lily let him trot down the road. “Diabolical corporations. Aliens. Witches. Ghosts. Aliens running diabolical corporations. Druids. Chipmunks and squirrels as spies. Magic horses. Now vigilantes.”

He nodded his head.

“Nahnahnahnahnahnahnah, Batman!”

Her horse whinnied again.

She quieted as she got out of the marsh and into the village. She hummed “Spider-man, spider-man, does whatever a spider can,” under her breath as they passed Hayden’s house.

She took the transport back to Jorvik Stables.

When Herman asked her how it went, she replied with, “It went.”

The decorations were ready in time for Happy Horse week, if barely. Barney had helped them by using the vinyl wall art to make plywood versions of the horse silhouettes with his wooden scroll saw. He’d also made them horse heads to vary up the horse shoes and hang their smaller horse garlands from. They weren’t allowed to touch his saw. They could lose fingers if they weren’t careful. Plus, he was making the silhouettes five or six at a time to save time. Each stable and town had at least one of each galloping, show jumping, and dressage silhouette. Carney Summers had been busy making race signs for everyone.

But everything was painted, glittered, glued together, whatever needed to be done in time to decorate for the week. Metal and plastic buckets had ribbons and bows on them. Plastic helmets also had bows and rhinestones and gold trim. They wrapped fancy striped ribbons in Jorvik national colors around every extra haybale they were strewing about for decorations. (And handy seating for the tired parents.)

So, the day before Happy Horse Week was also busy instead of training, they were decorating and making sure everything was out and just so. They’d put together plenty of snacks for the tables and had decided that mint candies went in predominantly blue favor cones, and granola went in predominantly green favor cones.

Putting together the selfie walls had been a bit easier now they were at the third time around. They used the triangular and horse shoe garlands to drape the circle. Put plenty of championship ribbons on the upper left hand side. Put together a pillar or arch out of marble balloons and made sure there were hobby horses and stuffed plushies (fresh from Fort Pinta) out for people to use as props.

Agnetha has pursed her lips at the arches of balloons in front of the rose archway and on each side of the bandstand, but she hadn’t said anything dire.

Thinking ahead, they set up the pavilion so people could decorate their own buckets and helmets if they wanted to do so. They even had championship ribbons for name badges.

They had to rearrange the jumps in the riding arena. (That gave them time to decorate it.) Though the Rose Arches remained firmly in place. And put together the special race tracks for the cross country races through the grape fields.

It was a good thing that they had extra decorations and banners, because just in time for Happy Horse Week, the Silverglade Oval Track was ready to open and it needed to be decorated as well.

Pia and Ingrid sent pictures of the Art Show and Flea Market respectively. Everything was horse themed! Pia had plenty of exclamation points. She never asked for it to be that way!

They had to help transport the cake from Ma Anna’s Pastry Shop in Firgrove all the way to Moorland. They transported it in separate tiers thank goodness, but they still wanted an escort for some reason. When it was put together, the bottom three tiers were sold colored, there was a blue tier, a green tier, and a white tier. Then the top two tiers, one had stripes, and the smallest was white with green and blue polka dots. They stuck a large golden harp in the top of it as a topper.

The tables for the Moorland feast were set out. And there were extra tables so they could set out the grab bags, horse masks, party hats, and horse ears for the kids. The Farmer’s Market bustled with happy people who were more than happy to put up another tent for the Carnival games of bobbing for apples, pig pen, horse shoes, hobby horse races, and pin the tail on the horse. They had a special spot for the pinatas (and plenty of them.) And a booth all set up so everyone could get their face painted.

Realizing they’d forgotten prizes for said games, Kate and her club ran to Jorvik City to get more of the prizes like they had in the grab bags. (Because why not try to collect them all, according to Regina. She was roundly reminded, again, that this wasn’t Pokemon!)

The Timber Wolves escorted Andy’s petting zoo down and helped him set it up at the same time they brought down the cake.

It was quite the whirl of activity.

No one was sure who exactly hid the Golden Horse Shoes, only, that they were hidden.

So, everyone was excited the first day of Happy Horse Week, despite the fact that they’d had to make a schedule so there were people minding the races, giving beginning riding lessons, doing the lunge informational event, the craft pavilion, and the snack booth.

“Where do we want to go first?” Was the biggest question. Firfall was having a jousting demonstration at their medieval fair. There was the County Fair to check out too with all the food, and booths, and games, and they had to keep an eye on the competition up there with the eventing qualifiers. Or, they could go to Moorland and get a slice of carrot cake or apple spice cake (or both) and go straight to the Farmer’s Market to do games there. Or, they go to Fort Pinta and grab Token Takes Jorvik, buy a horse plushy if they didn’t already have a stuffed lovie of their own and start on the different challenges, plushy vacation pictures, Andy’s Geocaching, and Hayden’s Spider Hunt.

More than a few of them though were bowing out of Hayden’s Spider Hunt.

“No thank you,” they said.

They knew they’d see all of it. It was a matter of did they want to watch a pie eating contest at the County Fair or not? There was going to be a demonstration of a flat track oval race too that sounded interesting. They all agreed that they wanted to see the horse rubber duck race. That sounded too funny not to see.

The last day was the Light Ride.

It was with light hearts that they made their schedule and took to explore the county during Happy Horse Week. (They had Golden Horseshoes to find!) The first place they had to go was the Silverglade Oval Track ribbon cutting ceremony!

Loretta shifted her weight on top of her white stallion, the pink of her showjumping jacket setting off her fair complexion. Lily cynically thought that was the reason why the Bobcats colors happened to be pink. Loretta looked good in it. Loretta glanced over at her. “What are you doing here?”

Lily tugged down the sleeves of her own showjumping jacket, light purple. (Thought she’d the option of a dark purple or mulberry color.) “Same as you, I suspect. Claymore Challenge qualifiers.”

Loretta’s eyes widened. “No. No. You can’t. Your clubs are too,” she trailed off.

“Too what? We’ve qualified. We’ve earned the ribbons.” Lily looked down her nose at her. Had Loretta forgotten about the fact that more clubs meant more competition?

“You haven’t been around long enough to train your horses to be competition ready,” Loretta curled her lip. “You’ve been too busy doing other things.”

Lily leaned forward a bit resting her weight on her folded hands. “Not for the last month, month and a half. You don’t want to train for more than a couple hours every day and risk hurting the horse.”

“But you couldn’t have earned enough ribbons.”

Lily smirked at her. “I did.”

“That’s not right.” Loretta frowned.

“Take it up with Herman.” Lily shrugged. She tilted her head.

The Announcer’s voice rang out. “President of the Bobcats, Loretta.”

“You’re up,” Lily told her.

Rattled, Loretta nudged her stallion into a trot to take the arena.

Lily narrowed her eyes and watched. Either Loretta wasn’t as good as she claimed to be or Lily’s appearance as the next competitor after her had truly rattled her. She missed several jumps knocking down the bars.

When Loretta came off the field she looked furious. She stopped her horse by Lily. “If someone like you who isn’t even from Jorvik keeps me from going to the Claymore Challenge again,” she started.

“Again?” Lily raised a brow. “Last I checked the rules, Jorvik citizenship wasn’t required to compete, only belonging to a Riding Club in Jorvik in good standing.”

Loretta sucked her cheeks in and trotted off. “I won’t be defeated.”

Lily watched her go and put a hand on her horse’s neck. “And President of the Silverglade Equestrian Center’s Silver Drakes, Lily,” The Announcer said.

Lily squared her shoulders. She had an event to do. She could wonder who had beat out Loretta last time. Lisa. Linda. Or Anne?

FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.

Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.

#star stable #sso #star stable online #fan fic #jorvik reimagined #star stable salt #happy horse week #loretta isn't learning #silverglade reimagined #completely harmless #many nods to ruth westside

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dorizardthewizard · 4 years

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TLNM musings, part 2

Okay, here I ramble about problems with the movie. Ended up adding more stuff since I first wrote this :’P

Screentime and characterisation of the other ninja:

One of the biggest complaints from fans... they're all introduced individually with very different personalities, they’re told they each have a special element they control, making you feel like they should each get some moment to shine and affect the plot of the movie, but then none of that happens. Ultimately you could take out all the ninja and the story would be the same, you don't even necessarily need them for Lloyd's character since his journey of reconnecting with his father and bringing his family together can still work without them. It's so sad because if you read and watch extra material, you can tell thought went into their personalities, but we never get to see this as they're all just lumped together, mostly there to support Lloyd's development.

For someone who hasn't seen the show, it must feel a bit off seeing characters with distinguished personalities and no payoff for it; take Zane for example. Imagine not knowing anything about the characters and seeing one of them is a robot, for some reason? You wonder why he's a robot, what significance that has for the plot and why it's important for his character (I mean they missed a big opportunity to develop Zane from always trying to fit in and seem like a “normal teenager” to accepting that he's different but that that doesn't mean he's less valid), but then this really specific characteristic is never expanded on except for comedy purposes. People probably thought “oh, guess it makes more sense in the show”, but this just detaches viewers and makes them feel like they're missing something if they haven't seen the show beforehand.

Sigh, still gotta give the crew credit for fitting in a load of little subtle details about the ninja, I had to rewatch it a couple of times because there were things I didn’t notice at first, like Kai sliding down a bannister in the Temple of Fragile Foundations and falling off :’D

Group dynamic:

Another thing that bothered me is that the movie isn't that good at making you care about them as a team. They're already established as friends but I wish there were more material showing us how much they care about each other. The Kai hug scene was 10/10 but then when Chen and the other cheerleaders started picking on Lloyd, nobody said or did anything? In merchandise it said Kai is a hothead who isn't afraid to speak up or stand up to people, then show it in the movie! Him and Nya should have been on the verge of tackling that guy to the floor! Ok, I can see Lloyd asking them not to get into fights as it makes people hate him even more and he probably feels guilty if one of the ninja gets into trouble because of him. This would still have given more emotional connection between the characters but we're never shown it, except in the novelisation where Cole tries to block Lloyd from his locker so he doesn't see the insult written on it, I think. But again, we shouldn't have to read/ watch extra material for that.

Instead of moments showcasing the ninja’s friendship and close bonds, we got the opposite- everyone turned on Lloyd incredibly quickly for one mistake. Sure, it was a pretty big one and resulted in Garmadon taking over the city and their mechs being wrecked, but Lloyd was the only one doing anything about Garmadon at the time and he didn't exactly know what the consequences of using the ultimate weapon were; it's not like he knew it could potentially hurt his friends. In fact, how did the ninja know he used it anyway? That would mean they already knew about it and what it could do, yet Lloyd was not told? In which case, how can they blame him?? Damn it Wu, why couldn't you just tell Lloyd that using the weapon would unleash a cat that could destroy the city, instead of vaguely saying the weapon can be dangerous in the wrong hands. That's taking too many pages from TV Wu's book!

Honestly, it's like the ninja were just one character either shunning Lloyd or supporting him, depending on what the plot needed :/ That scene where they're talking with Garmadon while carrying him through the jungle really rubbed me the wrong way because first, no one seemed to care that Lloyd is so snippy because he's been forced to work with the man who made his life hell, and second they joke about Lloyd with that very same person and imply they don't respect Lloyd as leader, as Jay says he doesn't usually want to listen to him when he's talking? What??

Lloyd and Garmadon’s relationship:

I mentioned this in part 1, but they really didn’t execute this well- I feel like they had so much fun playing up Garmadon being the worst dad in the world that they forgot to give him redeemable qualities. It took me a second viewing to realise his relationship with Lloyd was actually pretty messed up, because they played off his despicableness as comedic and glossed over it by suddenly giving him a flashback to make it seem like he’s sorry. They wanted to go for the father-and-son-have-issues-but-reconnect story, and had Lloyd say “I wish we didn’t have to fight all the time” in his emotional ending, but that’s a line usually present in a daddy-issue story where both have a part to blame and there's issues with communication. In this, though? Lloyd did nothing wrong! It was just Garmadon being trash, and there wasn't even a particular scene of him recognising and apologising for his actions- not the bit about driving Misako away, but how he treated Lloyd after.

The message is all mucked up - hoping to find some good in neglectful parents is just gonna get you hurt, and in a story like this it would make more sense for the protagonist to realise they don't need validation from this guy, shouldn't feel like they have to keep connected with toxic relatives just because they're family, and that they should focus on the friends and family who actually love them (although, whether Lloyd's friends were even portrayed as liking him is a different story). I mean, Koko could just teach him to throw and catch! Does he have to have two parents just for that?

Tone and humour:

I think another main reason this movie didn't do as well was its more childish tone and dialogue; unlike the previous two movies, it was marketed at younger children. One of the main reasons TLM and LB were so successful is because of the self-aware jokes that could actually be enjoyed by adults too, while in this movie I may have properly laughed only a couple of times. Plus, in its effort to connect with kid's humour it just got cringy in some parts, like the Ultimate Weapon compilation. It would have been funny if it was ironic, like Amazing World of Gumball style, but it just didn't come across like that, so I can see why many jokes fell flat for older audiences.

People probably had different expectations for the overall tone as well- everyone loved the previous LEGO movies because of their constant barrage of action, witty jokes and a ton of references. This was never the selling point of Ninjago, but TLNM didn’t manage to capture the show’s dramatic style and deep lore-driven plot either.

The writers:

Okay last thing. This movie had three directors, six producers, six screenwriters and seven people working on the story. Compared to most animated movies, that's a lot, and its shows. It feels like they had a few different ideas and themes and couldn't quite patch them together, with vague messages like “looking at things from a different point of view” being thrown in as well to try and link it up. I guess at the end of the day, this is a father-son story, and that makes it very difficult to fit in a power-of-friendship plot at the same time, but still. Also, the shifting plot and ideas is really clear in the trailers, I mean half the stuff there wasn't even in the movie, it's as if the entire story was changed!

Final verdict? I think an overall theme with this movie is that the writers wanted to overhaul Ninjago to introduce it to new viewers, but also wanted to keep the fans happy so shoehorned in lots of elements from the show without giving them enough development. This just disappoints fans and alienates general audiences, which is a problem since Ninjago doesn’t have a huge following already backing it up like LEGO Batman did, and could have been the pilot for more original LEGO lines making it to the big screen. It was a technically amazing movie, with beautiful animation and visuals, an epic soundtrack and stunning voice acting, but it was also such a waste of potential.

The only other thing we can do is think about how it could have gone differently, so here's some of my ideas :'D

NOT using the deleted time travel plot. I know that after being disappointed in a movie you welcome any alternative, but giant mechs were already a big deviation from the ninja theme; flinging in time travel as well would be too much for non-show watchers. Plus, I thought we were all complaining about how time travel in Ninjago always just messes things up :'P

Also not following the show closer. We have over 10 seasons of the show, the whole point of a movie is giving a fresh take; using a giant snake or the Overlord possessing Garmadon again would just be boring.

Delete the first act? One of the best parts of the secret high school heroes trope is seeing how they juggle both lives, if you're gonna drop it after half an hour there's not much point of it being there.

Could instead just have Garmadon attacking again, the last invasion attempt being ages ago. Maybe the ninja rediscover a rich history of elemental masters protecting Ninjago when Wu decides to get a new team together to fight the new threat?

Make it about learning master building instead so they build their mechs at the end, and then gain elements in a sequel?

Or don't mention anything about elements and have every ninja individually go through an obstacle to obtain an elemental weapon, then they all lose them but don't know they're not necessary, so it's actually a surprise that the power is inside them? Everyone gets a sort of true potential moment?

Ninja having to warm up to Garmadon's son, so we have a plot of Lloyd slowly gaining their respect and becoming leader?

Higher stakes at the end, make the Shark Army more threatening and have them turn on Garmadon using Meowthra, so there's still an intense climax of the ninja fighting the army before Lloyd reaches Meowthra and gets his emotional ending?

Get rid of the live action sequence, or make it fit the message of the story more?

Feel free to add any ideas/ thoughts!

#ninjago #ninjago movie #lego ninjago movie #RIP lego cinematic universe v_v #my posts

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illegiblewords · 4 years

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5 Questions for Writers!

5 Questions for Writers

I got tagged by @kunstpause, it looked like fun so figured I’d go for it! THANKS TO KUNST!

Tagging @wouldyouliketoseemymask, @nilim, @azwoodbomb, @peregrineroad, @frostmantle, @autumnslance, @strangefellows, @redbud-tree, @nozomikei, and @rivenroad. No obligation to anyone but full permission to steal granted to anyone else who might like to. I’ll literally be delighted if you pick this up spontaneously and blame me as an excuse lmao.

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

I made long answers so have a cut!

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

It depends heavily on what fandom and where I am mentally, but I’ve figured out I tend to love writing angsty lameass dudes with blonde hair who are prone to doing really silly things despite taking themselves entirely too seriously. Honestly, I have a pretty huge track record at this point. Harvey Dent, Vexen, Dmitri, Lahabrea, probably more besides. Every one of them fits the right balance of lameass to angst. I like seeing them grow and find fulfillment as people and they are very very cute while still having an edge of badassery and cleverness. Also they’re funny.

Lahabrea is my favorite at the moment, and him reaching that position is an accomplishment considering how stiff the competition is in FFXIV. Loser tricked his way to the top while I was busy laughing at him.

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

I really, really, really love redemption arcs and people recovering from fucked up experiences. Latter case especially I love seeing characters in those situations successfully connect to the people and world around them, especially if they get to grow together with a partner. I also LOVE “hero saves the villain and villain takes it to heart”.

(You may be sensing a theme here haha.)

There are a few reason these concepts resonate with me, the first being I think they’re really hopeful, inspiring, and something I always wanted to see growing up but rarely did.

People fuck up in life. People get hurt in horrible ways that bring out the worst in them. Sometimes when that happens they dig themselves deeper and deeper into ugliness. The more a person’s bad side comes out, the more hopeless it can feel. And for mental illness especially I’ve found this can be a major issue.

Everyone makes mistakes and everyone has flaws, but I think there’s something really significant in seeing someone who has hit rock bottom, who can no longer imagine a way out, get offered a hand for support and take it. While recovery and redemption (not synonymous of course) ultimately need to be carried by the individual struggling, I really can’t understate how important it is to know in those situations that you’re not alone and someone believes in you.

I think a big part of why this theme is important to me is because mental illness, both genetic and due to trauma, is something unbelievably difficult and painful not only for the sufferer but those around them. The most mentally ill characters in fiction tend to be villains, and are disproportionately more likely to be suffering severe trauma. It frustrated me since I was pretty young to see over and over again cases where a mess could have been avoided if there was any support system in place.

Seeing compassion and connection given that kind of power means a lot to me, as does recognizing that villains are people before they are villains. It’s also very reassuring in the sense of “If this person fucked up that badly but still tried to better themself, I can too. And odds are I’m also worthy of love and compassion, even when my issues make things harder for others. I just have to keep working to improve.”

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

Eff.

Straight up I think I’ve written too much to have just one favorite description. It’s been a lot of years and I have hundreds of fics and I’m lame. So I’m going to put a few of my favs.

Anytime there’s a gap in block quotes it’s a different section within the same fic.

22 - A Batman Fanfic

He trembles beneath the weight of their expectations but his smile never fades flashes before cameras microphones under his nose crowds screaming questions bleeding together he answers like clockwork the District Attorney who must bring justice to us all paying tribute to false idols with golden hair and silver tongues we the people bow down in worship to this guardian of the law with words and deeds I believe in Harvey Dent so he swears in hallowed halls to bring prosperity to smite the wicked to damn the criminal with authority invested in him by Gotham’s dutiful children and himself.

***

On the precipice of victory we stand united our voice raised like a torch like a spear like a golden arrow against the beast of Lerna we are gods and monsters we are so much more than good and evil we are order in the court cauterizing corruption our head held high and mighty manifest in Harvey of the doubletalk Harvey who writes himself into the fabric of Gotham’s history Harvey who will not bend before the Roman we command you the unworthy we condemn you the unrighteous we will not be merciful and you will fall before our eyes.

***

I am Dionysus divided at the altar of Tyche O Fortuna O Fortuna give me guidance in the light of the moon you dance sacred silver dollar I see and obey the wax and wane your whim Wheel of Fortune the card I am dealt your servant your slave venerated puppet of flesh blessed is your wisdom bestowed upon I am your disciple wine-mad twisted chanting your word becomes law holy splendor against gavels desecrating your name defiant in denial extend your will through me and we shall strike the innocent enlighten the ignorant or spare them all for now.

Doppelganger - A Spider-Man Fanfic

She asks him to tell the story of himself, and like Scheherazade he begins anew each day.

As with many other things, this comparison is imperfect. The Ravencroft Institute is hardly a palace and neither of them could pass for royalty. She sits in a chair across from him over a carpet the color of sawdust. Her walls are lined with insects pinned on display. Not many butterflies, quite a few beetles. On a bookshelf Dmitri sees The Metamorphosis nestled between non-fiction texts more relevant to her profession. He thinks maybe it's an inside joke she has with herself, but doesn't say so.

He's received an invitation to call her Ashley instead of Dr. Kafka and doesn't know whether to accept. It might be to make him more comfortable. It might be something else. In her late fifties Kafka is built from delicate features, and he suspects the lines around her eyes mean they crinkle when she smiles. Short black hair, beige suit, only jewelry a pair of diamond stud earrings. Dmitri thinks she looks like a mother, but not his.

Her weight sinks into leather, darker than the floor. The couch he rests on matches. He finds himself leaning forward with one elbow propped on his thigh, the other locked in a cast suspended by his neck. There is something reassuringly empty in the gray fabric of his uniform, cheap and utilitarian and harmless. Dmitri’s wrists are thin, but then he's lost a lot of weight recently. He probably wouldn't be able to run as fast as he used to, but then circumstances would be the same anywhere he went so that really doesn't matter. His espionage days are over. His free arm is shedding in flakes but at least his skin is dry. Clean.

Dmitri no longer looks like anyone, unrecognizable to himself. A face without much in the way of edges, short nose. Weak chin. Mismatched eyes that shift between green and blue and brown and every other natural hue as moments pass into minutes pass into hours. Dark blotches interrupt his forehead and chin. They will peel in new patterns across a span of days. For the most part though, he is pale enough to trace veins where his body seems on the brink of spilling out.

It's been a while since he shaved his head and the hair that grows back is almost foreign. An unruly mess of black, blond, brunet, and red—strands as unlike in texture as anything else. The mask that made him Chameleon was white plastic embedded with hardware. Left deformed after trying to resemble others in flesh too many times, it allowed him to duplicate any face, any body he could remember. More than holograms, the most complete sensory illusions technology could perform.

Without it, Dmitri feels stripped.

When Kafka looks at him she’s receiving constant signals and missing none of them. The moments he needs to turn away, flat monosyllabic turns of phrase he chooses or resorts to or blankly accepts as his own. It doesn’t have to be this way. It isn’t comfortable and he doesn’t even trust it’s not calculated. But she’s going to notice no matter what he does at this point, and lying about it doesn’t do anyone much good. They both know why he’s here.

***

“We were poor. We worked hard to keep ourselves fed and clothed and less than an embarrassment. I probably could have worked harder. Mother,” he begins before stumbling over himself.

The story he’s telling isn’t hers. Whatever else she was, Sonya Smerdyakov wasn’t Mrs. Bates. He remembers her voice as the beginning of an echo, forever following someone else’s lead.

And so he followed her.

She was bright like a light going out. She was gentle without being kind. Her fingers were short and delicate and she touched him as little as possible. He found her attention in the way she avoided his name.

***

In the privacy of his room, Dmitri began talking to himself.

Celebrities. Teachers. Children. The flat, steady rhythm of his father’s voice. The words and intonations favored by mother. Sergei’s laugh. He lost himself in a fantasy of conversations, strode through space to mimic confidence he didn’t feel, flashed teeth in front of his mirror like other people.

Once, Dmitri raised his voice. And when his older brother came, eyebrows knitting in confusion, he found himself full of stammered explanations, hands fumbling at his elbows, stumbling over his tongue to make sense of it.

Just making stories for himself. A game with no ending. That was all.

***

He would have died in that town under the eyes of speechless parents. Dmitri remembers the confusion that took his peers when he found a job for people who spoke for themselves. They thought he might be growing up.

He could lie. And when he began he understood it would always be a game with no ending.

Dmitri lost himself in a fantasy of conversations with real people and a voice that didn’t belong to him.

They asked a stranger to sign their yearbooks without even realizing it.

And then he was eighteen, and he left to continue elsewhere.

He didn’t announce his departure.

From Umbra - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

It was probably a dream.

Lukewarm water crept down his throat, nearly making him choke. A skin pressed to his lips, insistent. He coughed, and for the first time there was moisture enough for resistance.

The face that obscured his vision was shrouded in white cloth. Cenric found he couldn’t focus on it. Mismatched eyes, one light and the other dark. Impossible to say if blindness caused the inconsistency.

A string of shells dangled from the figure’s neck, rattling gently. The skin pulled back for a moment. Careful. Patient.

It returned only once he'd grown quiet. Cenric drank for as long as he could. Impossibly, a great deal remained by the time he relinquished his hold.

There wasn't enough of him present to say thank you. Cenric barely registered being dragged, being carried onto a cart. Awareness was altogether gone by the time they started to move.

***

…to the blessed traders who enrich our lives we’re bound to pay with our lives in turn aether born fire-walker your will sees us to rest we entrust ourselves to your sight forged of oschon for peace and prosperity and an ending you do not weep for father azeyma lives in the earth with you her fan brings no breeze the air is hot and thick and breathless your domain a silent place that does not stir have you forgotten the sound of your own voice have you known what it is to live and fail have you been alone do you know what it is to die how can a god pass judgment without being judged nald’thal lord of departures of flame and sand whose coin purse overflows who knows not what it means to starve what it means to spoil the legacy of one who loved you nald’thal who holds shells and souls and precious stones as if their worth were equal nald’thal who cannot know mercy without knowing pain who are you to weigh mortal affairs?

***

In darkness he unwinds the black bandana, steps first from his slops and then his kurta. Yuyudana has provided robes, which rest neatly on a small rock nearby. It crosses Cenric’s mind that the bones of his knees, his hips, his wrists, even his face have all started to protrude strangely. He looks less hyuran than before, maybe less than he ever has. Closer to something priests would exorcise than anyone deserving aid.

He wonders if this idea has occurred to them.

The water, when he advances, is cold. Goosebumps raise across his skin as slowly, gingerly, he wades in to his waist.

Cenric ducks under.

His hair is a long and tangled wreck. Being wet only disguises this slightly. It drifts past his neck, comes to float near the surface. Cenric holds himself in silence, eyes open, watching the silver scatter of light over stones and plants and fish. He remains for as long as he can bear.

His vision stings afterward. Gasping, he can’t tell if the cause is exposure or something else. For a time he simply waits, breathing hard through his nose, hunched so that his lips are partially submerged.

He thinks of nothing, pretends that this time instead of no future he has no past.

Only one moon remains. Maybe the sky aches for losing Dalamud, but better that than the blow which scarred Eorzea.

Stalemate - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

He is presented with impressions of a horse, gaunt and fetid and decayed. Spreading ruin wheresoever it goes. Occasionally it sloughs off portions of its own flesh, which collect flies and blacken any land that surrounds. On its back rests a world, and alongside it does the herd struggle under their own burdens. But even beasts of such endurance have limits. Theirs are reached. When the rotten steed lags, its companions cannot afford to falter. Cannot turn. Without its ability to bear loads, this aberration has no place. Falling is inevitable.

Yet a heart still beats and lungs yet swell.

The Ascian shivers in his grasp, but does not attempt escape.

Here, something festers. Something bleeds. An old wound exacerbated over time.

Fevered, coated in a film of self-disgust, the core of Lahabrea convulses.

Don’t…

Don’t leave me like this…

***

Teeth and tongue. Lingering, wet, disembodied. Another finds his hip. Another his thigh, slipping beneath what clothes remain.

And another.

Warm, human, seeking. The Warrior tightens his hold, uses the moan crawling from his own chest as incentive. Barred by naught but fabric, driving close as he can manage. Lahabrea makes a strangled sound, his gasp crushed empty. A new mouth finds the dark knight’s ear in response.

These are parts of him no one dares touch, no one dares acknowledge. Slick now, attended with something like reverence. Supplication.

He resolves to fuck the Ascian senseless for this, presses his intent deep into Lahabrea’s aether. He is going to steal all his fancy words away. Make him squirm.

“I… I…” Tight, airless, like a plucked string. The Warrior feels Lahabrea’s voice reverberate against the roof of his mouth.

The feeling is difficult to describe. Cracked ice. A fraying rope. Such is Lahabrea's response, fumbling and disoriented as it is.

The Warrior lets go.

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

Just imagine me weeping over here lmao. Same deal as before, I’VE DONE TOO MUCH SHIT.

Spare Change - A Batman Fanfic

"Stop," he gasps, "I wouldn’t—"

"You would Harvey. You did. It’s what makes you such a damn good instrument. You had to test yourself, prove that you’re not a real person.” He can feel fingers grinding against bone. His knees bend. Harvey kneels, shuddering, gazing up into the destruction of his own visage. Two-Face meets his eyes, blue on blue. “People are weak. People are ruled by what they want and don’t want. You’re capable of anything if the wind blows just right. You can’t even stop yourself.”

"I wouldn’t," he repeats, numbly.

"Did you," demands Two-Face, forcing him down further, "or did you not flip for their lives, Harvey Dent?"

"We…We aren’t the same people anymore."

"Of COURSE we’re the same people!" Another shove and he’s on the ground, Two-Face sitting on his chest, teeth bared, coin clenched tight between them. "Do you really think you can close your eyes and pretend you aren’t capable of these things? They’re alive," and there is something hideous in his expression, something certain, "because they were lucky. No other reason.”

"The coin is gone! Even if I wanted to listen to it—I can’t!”

"If you’re so sure," says Two-Face, "then how about you improvise?”

And with one motion the silver dollar is under his tongue, forced back so hard he feels himself gag and begin to choke before his eyes open.

The Inquisitor’s Letters - A Dragon Age: Inquisition Fanfic

To His Worship Inquisitor Mahanon Lavellan of Skyhold, My name is Isell from Amaranthine and I’m seven. My mum is helping but says I can send you all by myself. Thank you for fixing the hole in the sky and also the one by the dead man’s house. There were demons but they’re mostly gone now and people are going outside now. Da says Amaranthine has been through too much and can survive anything and he says you’re an elf like us and the Hero of Ferelden was an elf too. He says people used to think elves can’t be heroes but now they don’t. Have you met the Hero of Ferelden? Also I heard that even though you’re Dalish Andraste helped you in the Fade and that humans let you be in the Chantry because anyone Andraste likes must be a really good person. What’s Andraste like? The Chant says a lot but it’s different meeting someone I think. Also I think I saw you a little before but Mum wasn’t sure because you had a helmet on and we were far away and there were a lot of people but I bet it was you. Da wasn’t sure I should write because he says the Dalish don’t like city elves like we are but I think you must be nice and Mum agrees with me. I’ve been playing demon hunters with my brother Arrion (he’s just five still) and Da said templars are who fights demons usually and elves can’t be templars. People thought elves couldn’t be heroes and inquisitors though and we are so I bet I could too. Is it hard fighting demons? Da says they’re real scary but I’m not scared. Thank you for helping us and everyone and I hope you kill lots of demons. Sincerely, Isell U’venlan

From Umbra - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

Cenric sits on the floor, draped in a white cotton tunic. It might have been snug on a Roegadyn but anyone else would find ample room. Behind him, Memesu stands on a cot holding shears. Gold earrings dangle on either side of her face.

“I fought at Carteneau, you know,” she mentions casually. There is a soft hsssssshhhh. Click.

Hair hits the floor. Coils.

He starts to shake his head, aborts the gesture partway through. Stills. “…you saw Bahamut?”

Memesu snorts. “I’m sure everyone this side of Hydaelyn saw Bahamut.” Click.

“That’s probably true,” he concedes. The dragon is what everyone knows, everyone remembers. He can't imagine the proximity. “What about the Warriors of Light?”

“Pff.” Gentle tugging at his scalp. Cenric does not open his eyes but leans into the motion. “I wasn’t of rank to see their like. Not that I’d remember. Stop moving.” Click.

Cenric hesitates.

“What do you remember, then?”

For a time, the only sound comes from blades and a thousand strands cut short. This lasts for several minutes. Cenric resigns himself to secrets.

Then, “I used to think I was special too. As a twin. My sister was Memeni. We studied together.”

Was.

The exhale hits him slowly, quietly.

“She died?”

He can feel the shrug in her hip against his shoulder.

“It was Carteneau,” says Memesu. “Of course she died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Click. “It had nothing too do with you. If you keep trying to claim responsibility for every misfortune you find, you’re going to get self-important.”

Cenric only grunts, quiet and non-committal.

Click.

“Carteneu was so much worse than people remember. Only four years later and already we hurry to dispose of details.” There is a hard undercurrent to Memesu’s voice, but what contact she makes remains light. Careful. “I remember the arcanist from Limsa who didn’t dodge a magitek canon in time. Miqo’te. Spells come faster in that discipline, so there’s less stress on distance than thaumaturgy. Girl got careless.” Click. “The mess smelled like rotten eggs and charcoal. Her face was… melted.” Click. “I try not to look in those situations. They only make casting harder. But she was so close.”

Cenric doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word.

Memesu continues. “One of our own gladiators, an Ala Mhigan, took to mutilating any pureblooded Garleans he could catch. The man had a string of eyes hanging around his neck. I’m pretty sure one enemy officer wet himself before he started to beg. Not that it particularly mattered.”

Click.

“Memeni… didn’t anticipate what she was getting herself into. She saw magic as a way of being useful to craftsmen. My focus has always been theoretical. Right side.” Startled, Cenric lets her guide his jaw to get a better view of his profile. Click. Click. “Meni used to think I was a priss. She preferred to develop magitek kettles alongside alchemists. See if she could find a way to capture light like the Mhachi did. She still enjoyed fishing when she could, even though it smelled awful. Never outgrew the braids she wore growing up. ” Memesu sighs. “…just understand she died afraid, in pain, and with things left undone. My sister didn’t even resemble herself at the end.”

Cenric is very still. Thinks carefully.

“…I wish it could have gone differently,” he says at last.

Memesu’s mouth slides up in a small, crooked smile. She tousles the neat, ear-length hair before her. “So do I.”

Eclipse - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

It ends at Elidibus’ untimely arrival.

“Lord Zodiark,” he says, so smoothly that were he not searching for it that the anger would be undetectable, “appreciates your attentions.” His gaze does not waver from Lahabrea as he speaks. “But there is work to be done and I’m afraid there are words I would have with your Speaker.”

They disperse.

Nabriales, careful and curious, folds himself out of sight beyond the chamber then makes his way back to its edge.

Lahabrea, farthest from the exit, attempts to steal some small dignity. Turns to face Elidibus.

The Emissary makes him wait. Expressionless red masks matched by those who wear them.

Then, with more speed and force than typical for his demeanor, the Emissary closes distance to trap his colleague against the wall.

“It was my error,” hisses Elidibus, leaning in, “to have stayed silent upon rescuing you. A mistake I will remedy now, so we can be on no uncertain terms.”

Lahabrea lowers his eyes. Nabriales notes that despite the dread they all share of such reprimands, the man does not brace.

“You know as well as I that these words offer less succor to our Lord than action,” continues Elidibus, his fury quiet and no less sharp for that, “just as we both know your thoughtless action is the cause of repeated missteps these past centuries. Make no mistake—for all the strides you’ve made, your fixation and your impatience have cost the rest of us considerable time.”

Silence.

“Do you truly think this is your best service to Him?” asks Elidibus. “To us? Compromising your ability to fill the hours? Even Emet-Selch agrees these displays are disgraceful. You have ever borne them poorly, but being a 'paragon among paragons' naturally you continue ignoring your own better judgment with ours to continue this exercise in futility. Idiot.”

A twitch of the head. Almost a flinch.

It is one of few moments Nabriales has seen the Emissary express his anger so openly. Even after the Thirteenth fell to Igeyorhm’s error, Elidibus allowed the Angel of Truth to lead and voiced his own reproach with a more typical icy demeanor. Scathing though it was.

“I can be of use,” says Lahabrea softly. “Only three of us remain, and I—“

“You,” Elidibus snaps, “cannot follow the most simple instructions for the good of us all. Not for Him, not for Amaurot, not even for yourself. Your pride has made you not simply an embarrassment but a liability.”

Neither man speaks for several moments after that.

And then, at length, Elidibus exhales.

Says the Speaker’s name.

Receives his attention.

“What would you have me do?” the Emissary asks. His tone now is almost weary. “Clearly it would be unreasonable to trust you’d simply listen. Must I mind you like a child?” This is what breaks Lahabrea’s composure.

Knowing the man’s temper, Nabriales had expected him to lash out. Even on the back foot their orator is perfectly capable of defending himself from insults.

Instead, he embraces Elidibus fiercely—face just within the bounds of his pauldrons. Jaw locked shut firmly enough to hurt. Expression downcast.

Elidibus remains perfectly still at first. In the absence of conversation it is possible to hear the rush of Lahabrea’s breathing. Only through the nose, withheld briefly between each inhale as if that offers some means to steady himself.

As if that would make it better.

Tentatively, Elidibus holds him back. Lahabrea's fingers contract, and though he remains upright when his knees begin to give it is the Emissary who helps him kneel.

“Easy,” he murmurs, and Lahabrea removes one hand to run it reflexively over his face—coming against the mask.

Nabriales finds himself staring, searching. A puzzle with missing pieces whose image he may yet divine

“It was not,” says Lahabrea roughly, “my intention to…”

Elidibus reaches beneath the other man’s cowl, finds the hair and skin beneath. Draws him in once more.

Naught that would be shared with or among the Sundered. Nothing so personal as that.

Nabriales has worn his own share of flesh. Bedded lovers, adopted companions and families of vessels to fulfill a purpose. Passable enough, perhaps, but never for him. Not in truth.

It’s as if he looks upon two strangers.

Parched - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

The door closes behind them. Lahabrea, projecting his preferred likeness over the host, waits on a couch within.

It’s admittedly a surreal sight. Ishgardian finery with its gilded edges, its elaborate wallpapers and marble floors. A collection of creams and blues and greens, fine furniture with velvet seat cushions. All ostentatious in the extreme… and then Lahabrea. Masked and cowled. Pouring three glasses of La Noscean arrack.

Elidibus freezes, and though none of them can see his eyes the confusion is clear enough.

“What is this?”

“Your turn,” says Emet-Selch, lightly but less flippant than he might have been.

Lahabrea proffers a cup from where he sits.

Elidibus neither moves nor speaks.

Emet-Selch approaches. Takes the drink. Presses it carefully into the other man’s hand.

“Don’t think,” he says smoothly,” that I won’t let you drop it.”

Mercifully, Elidibus has a good grip.

“Sit,” says Lahabrea, gesturing with his own glass to the sofa across from him.

Elidibus sits.

Emet-Selch sits.

Takes his own glass, perhaps a bit pointedly.

Elidibus’ mouth is pressed tight. It opens briefly, as if to speak. Shuts again.

“Explain,” the Emissary manages eventually.

Lahabrea meets his co-conspirator’s eye. Downs his arrack in a single attempt.

It is a long attempt.

It lasts several moments.

The other Ascians watch.

“Elidibus,” says Emet-Selch as Lahabrea endeavors to catch his breath in the aftermath, “Lahabrea and I are concerned that you may be experiencing some difficulties in recent years.”

“I’m fine,” replies Elidibus coldly. Holding his drink. “Why did you think this necessary?”

“Because—“ wheezes Lahabrea.

“Because you’re practically a mammet,” says Emet-Selch, picking up Lahabrea’s glass. Moving it just out of reach. “Truly. It’s been what, two hundred years? Three? Neither of us can remember the last time you so much as spoke of matters unrelated to the Rejoining.”

Lahabrea reaches. Elidibus pours his arrack into the other man’s glass before nudging it back toward him.

Elidibus makes eye contact with Emet-Selch.

“I remain focused,” he says evenly. “Nothing more.”

Emet-Selch gestures to the bottle.

Elidibus sighs.

Refills his own glass.

“There are matters I must attend myself. As is the case with each of you.”

“Undoubtedly,” replies Lahabrea more evenly. “But with few exceptions, you haven’t done so.”

A hard stare from behind the mask.

“What would you have me do? I can’t very well take time off.”

Emet-Selch sips.

“A negligible amount of time,” he says, “taken sparingly, may be forgivable.”

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

Lmao see this is a plus side/minus side deal. Minus side, it’s being asked just before I embark on a MASSIVE ASS FANFIC. And I basically am excited for all of it. Plus side, there are things I refuse to spoil.

So... putting it vaguely, in no particular order:

- Lahabrea and Hydaelyn meet a second time after Praetorium.

- Moonfire Faire

- Thancred

- Conversations over mulled wine

- Silvertear Lake

Some of these are sex scenes. Most aren’t. But I am very hyped.

7 notes · View notes

distractedhistotech · 5 years

Text

Before MSA + 1: Finally Together

Vivi ran up and rang the doorbell. Arthur and Ben had just caught up when Lewis opened the door. “Hi Arthur.” His gaze averted towards Vivi. “And you must be Vivi.” His eyes dropped to Ben. “Ah. You didn’t mention anything about a dog.”

Arthur facepalmed. He knew he was forgetting something.

“Don’t worry. Ben’s very well behaved,” said Vivi. “Plus, he’ll let us know if any ghosts show up!”

“We’re not gonna see any ghosts while Sydney’s around,” Lewis said matter-of-factly. He still moved aside so they could come in. “We’re watching anime in the living room. Don’t get too loud. Belle’s not sleeping, but I don’t wanna startle her.”

The walked a few feet to the living room. Sydney was playing peek-a-boo with a giggling baby while an anime with girls running around in indecently short skirts were fighting a monster. Arthur quickly averted his eyes.

“Fluffy doggy!” And Sydney was suddenly dashing towards them.

Lewis intercepted her, grabbed her, spun them in a circle, and flung her over his should as she giggled. “C’mon, you know you shouldn’t surprise dogs like that.”

Sydney pouted and made grabby motions towards Ben. “But the fluffy…”

Arthur glanced towards Ben and was surprised to find the dog had recoiled and looked like he was trying to make himself look smaller and…was he scared?

Vivi gave Ben a confused look too. “Ben? You okay?”

Sydney winced. “Oh shit. Did I scare him? I’m sorry doggy!”

Lewis set Sydney on the ground. Ben inched forward a bit. “Hold your hand out,” suggested Vivi. Sydney listened. Ben sniffed cautiously at her hand. After a moment, he licked at her hand. Then he pushed pressed his head into the palm of her hand. Sydney giggled and pet him. Vivi smiled. “That’s better. He usually doesn’t startle very easily…”

Lewis grabbed Arthur’s hand. “Come meet Belle.”

Arthur let himself get dragged over to where the baby was starting to make crying sounds. She calmed down as Lewis came into sight. “Arthur, Belle. Belle, Arthur.”

Belle held her hands up towards Lewis, seemingly not caring about Arthur. Lewis carefully picked her up, holding her like she was the most precious and fragile thing in the world.

Arthur guessed that’s what she was to Lewis. “She’s…small.”

Lewis chuckled. “You should have seen her when she was a newborn.”

Right she would have been even smaller then, wouldn’t she?

“Would you like to hold her?”

Arthur blinked and studied Belle, who was rapidly falling asleep. He’d never been around a baby before, not even his younger siblings. He wasn’t entirely sure how to act around them outside of being careful and quiet.

Belle was…new. And helpless. She had to depend on others whether she wanted to or not, and honestly she probably didn’t know any better. She had pretty much no experience when it came to life. Innocent and blissful.

And his hands were covered in blood.

“No!”

Lewis gave him a startled look, and Arthur realized that definitely wasn’t a normal reaction. Thankfully, Vivi came to his rescue. “He’s got some weird phobias,” said Vivi, which was technically true. “Very personal. He probably still hasn’t told me all of them.”

Arthur nodded. “I’m a mess.”

“So, Arthur’s odd fear of infants aside…” Vivi pulled out a ouija board and a camera. “We can do ghost photos, watch tv, or play videogames.”

Lewis narrowed his eye. “You are not using a ouija board in here.”

Sydney shrugged. “It probably wouldn’t work anyway.”

“Please don’t summon any angry ghosts,” added Arthur.

“I’d put up protections,” protested Vivi, but she put away her ‘supplies’. “So…I guess that leaves tv and videogames.”

“Do you mind if we stick to tv?” asked Lewis. “I kind of want to keep my hands free.” He shifted Belle in his arms a bit.

Arthur glanced towards the TV and winced. “Can we watch something else? Their clothing seems…improper.”

Sydney snorted. Lewis gave her a deadpan look. “I didn’t say anything.” Sydney grinned and pulled out several DVDs and videos from somewhere. “I got all sorts of awesome shows!”

Arthur stared at the various children shows in Sydney’s hands. “Um…” He glanced toward Lewis, who wasn’t making a move. He glanced toward Vivi, who was looking at him expectantly. He looked at Sydney, who was still grinning. He pointed at a random cover. “That one.”

Sydney turned it around to see what he’d chosen. “Ooh. Batman. Good choice.”

Batman? “That’s a comic, right?”

“They can turn comics into cartoons,” Sydney said nonchalantly. “I got Spider-man, the X-Men, and Superman too,” she said nonchalantly as she ejected a video and put in the Batman video. She then dragged him onto the couch as they all sat down.

Arthur…wasn’t sure how he felt about Batman. The man was obviously meant to be highly trained, even if he didn’t move quite right (Animation limits?). Vivi, Lewis, and Sydney made a bunch of ninja comments. He fought mostly normal people, a few super powered people.

It reminded Arthur a little too much of what he’d been trained to do before…before Tempo.

Arthur suspected he was going to be splitting his life into Before Tempo and After Tempo.

“I’m not sure I like Batman,” Arthur decided. The man used fear as a weapon. That was only possible because of his implied training.

Sydney pointed to her shows. “We can watch something else.”

“How ‘bout Scooby-Doo? I love that show,” said Vivi.

The videos were switched and they watched the old cartoon instead. Arthur decided it was much preferable. It had scary monsters, but they were all men (or women) in masks. Not real. Just a bunch of teenagers running around and solving mysteries that Arthur felt were needlessly complicated. “Why do they bother pretending to be monster? Most of these guys could get away with whatever they’re trying to do if they would just lay low.”

“That would make more sense,” agreed Vivi. “I’m honestly not sure why the police don’t investigate them more. Play some ghost noises to keep away anyone paranoid and that ought to be enough for most people.”

“Maybe ghosts are a fact of life in this universe,” said Sydney. “So when they see the monsters, they just go ‘Oh, looks like we’ve got a monster. Better stay away so we don’t get eaten.’ Oh! Or maybe people have been pulling this sort of stunt for so long that it’s just become a fact of life, and people are only just now are figuring out that most of these are guys in masks, and the Scooby gang is one of the inadvertent forerunners in the start of this new age!”

Everyone stared at Sydney as she finished coming up with her impromptu theory. “Welp, that’s another fanfiction idea,” commented Lewis.

“I’d go with the first one,” said Vivi. “There are some movies that actually have ghosts and monsters.”

“Oh yeah…” Sydney pulled out another video with Shaggy and Scooby in a cauldron with Frankenstein’s bride and a little mummy girl standing next to it. “The Ghoul School!”

“Do you have Boo Brothers and the Reluctant Werewolf?” asked Vivi.

Lewis nodded. “Those were fun.”

“I’d have to ask Dad, but I think so,” said Sydney. “They show on Cartoon Network all the time though so I might be mixing ‘em up.”

“Wait. These are movies?” Arthur glanced between the Ghoul School cover and the tv. “This show has movies?”

“Yep, several,” answered Vivi. “They still release new movies and episodes regularly, although the setting is adjusted for modern times and I think they might be doing reboots.”

“It’s a well loved show, and the people who watched it as kids grew up and still loved it and wanted to be a part of it,” added Lewis. “I’m sure we’d all do the same with the shows we love if we had the chance.”

Sydney cackled. “Oh fu-dge yeah!” She pulled a small notebook out from her back pocket. “I have ideas!” She opened it to a random point and Arthur could see a picture of Spider-man kissing some lady in a black suit. “Spider-man and Black Widow! They don’t have anything in common yet, but you could have them run into each other and then start hanging out and then start dating!”

Arthur had no idea what Sydney was talking about. Who was Black Widow?

“I don’t think it’s quite the same thing,” said Lewis. “Scooby Doo doesn’t have a lot of background information so you can do a lot of original stuff with it. Spider-man and the other Marvel comics have a lot of backstory, so it would be tricky to make something like your idea work without radically changing things.” He grinned. “Plus, I like him and Mary Jane as a couple.”

Sydney paused and nodded. “True. Peter and Mary Jane are a tried and true couple. Spider-man/Black widow can be a What-If issue.” Sydney paused and then grinned. “Or…Mary Jane can be Black Widow.”

Arthur was so lost. Lewis glanced at him before turning to the TV. “Maybe we can watch Scooby Doo and the Ghoul School after this,” suggested Lewis.

“Sounds good to me,” said Sydney. “Oh! Don’t say anything. We don’t wanna spoil anything for Arthur.” She giggled. “Plus, I kinda wanna see your face.”

Arthur blinked at everyone else’s grins and wondered if he should be worried.

In the middle of the next episode, Belle started whining. Lewis took a moment to try and calm her and check her over. “I’m pretty sure she’s hungry,” he concluded.

Sydney jumped off the couch. “I’ll get it.” She ran to the kitchen.

Arthur watched with fascination as Lewis worked on calming Belle. From what he remembered of his family, his younger siblings had mostly been left on their own when they cried unless they needed to be changed or fed.

…Lewis was probably doing a better job than Arthur’s parents.

Sydney came back in with a bottle of formula that she handed to Lewis. Lewis started feeding Belle.

…Lewis and Sydney were probably doing a better job than Arthur’s parents, and Sydney was…Sydney.

How could two adults be worse at taking care of a child than two middle school students?

It made Arthur feel just a bit bitter. And then Ben decided to plop his head onto Arthur’s lap. Arthur took advantage of it to pet Ben until he felt better.

“Time for Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School!” proclaimed Vivi as the episode they were watching ended. She shot up, switched the videos, and sat back down with a grin directed towards Arthur that made him feel very nervous.

The movie started innocently enough. “Where are Fred, Daphne, and Velma?”

Vivi shrugged. “College, I guess.”

“Or getting started on their own careers,” added Sydney.

Something about this made Arthur uncomfortable. He ignored it. “Who’s the talking puppy?”

“Scrappy Doo, Scooby’s nephew,” explained Lewis.

“How come he can talk more clearly than Scooby?” asked Arthur.

“Maybe Scooby just has a bad lisp?” suggested Sydney.

“And how come he’s walking around on his hind legs?” continued Arthur.

“I think Scooby’s too top heavy to do that for more than a few moments,” reasoned Vivi. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Scrappy lost the ability when he got older.”

And that was good enough for the moment…and then they reached the premise of the movie.

“It’s a school for monsters?!” Arthur shouted, startling the others on the couch. “Why is there a school for monsters?!”

“I guess their dads couldn’t homeschool them,” reasoned Sydney.

“But-but-aren’t they dangerous?!” Belle started whining, and Lewis and Sydney hushed Arthur.

“Well, not necessarily,” said Vivi. “Let’s take a look. Vampires survive off of human blood. Obviously, that would make them predators, but they don’t necessarily have to completely drain a person. They can just take a small amount from several different people, and honestly, it’s not clear how much they need to survive. They might not need all that much, and they could find willing donors. The only problem would be if the bite itself transforms someone into a vampire, but that’s a modern invention. Even if there were side effects from the bite, modern technology would let you remove blood without needing to bite someone.

“Frankenstein type monsters are actually pretty misunderstood. In the original novel, the monster, he was named Adam by the way, was just as intelligent as a person, had emotions and empathy. He tried to find human friends, but was rejected for how he looked. Any violence he exhibited was mostly in self-defense with some violence towards his creator, who pretty much abandoned him, so I can’t blame him for being upset.

“Werewolves are a bit tricky since the transformation varies. Some have to do with making a deal with the devil, which is obviously a bad thing, some with not attending mass for seven years, which seems unlikely considering the various religions in the world, and getting bitten by another werewolf, which would make it a disease. You don’t shame someone for having a disease because that’s not something you have control over. The main problem is that they’re violent when they transform and can spread the disease, but most don’t want to be violent and isolate themselves to keep from hurting anyone.

“Mummies aren’t inherently evil. In fact, mummies coming back to life is a recent idea thanks to movies, so I don’t think they’re an actual type of monster you’d run into. However, I imagine that if you did, they would behave the same as they had when alive, and, well, I guess there might be some differences in morality due to culture, but they should still be decent.

“Ghosts are more often than not harmless but capable of affecting their environment and scaring people. Not that they can’t harm the living. That’s just pretty rare. A lot of the time, they behave as they did in life, but some are influenced by how they died, which can make them angrier, sadder, or more frightened than they were when they were alive.

“Anyway, you got good monsters and bad monsters, just like you do humans,” finished Vivi. It was at this moment she realized everyone was staring at her, including Ben and Belle. “This is the sort of stuff I like.”

Sydney held up a hand. “I hear ya!” Vivi returned the high five.

“You sure know a lot about monsters,” commented Lewis. “Is that why you wanted to try and talk to the ghosts in the house?”

Vivi nodded. “I’ve never actually seen a ghost or anything like that before, but I really want to! I want to become a paranormal investigator so I can see all sorts of ghosts and monsters!”

“That would make an awesome comic book!” commented Sydney.

“But that’s dangerous!” said Arthur. “What if you run into something awful? And you get possessed?! Or what if someone hurts you?! What if you die?!”

“What if we’re in a car crash or fall down the stairs or get mugged or get bitten by a dog?” Sydney suddenly said. She glanced towards Ben. “No offense.”

Ben let out a huff.

“I think Sydney’s trying to say that all sorts of things could happen to you every day,” explained Lewis. “If you worry and try to avoid everything, you won’t be living much of a life.” Sydney nodded.

Arthur thought about that. If he wanted to avoid everything dangerous…Well, considering Sydney’s list he’d have to stay inside all the time. That would drive him crazy. “Okay, but…” Arthur turned towards Vivi. “Don’t do anything really dangerous, okay?”

Vivi nodded. “Yeah, Dad wouldn’t let me go on my own anyway. I’d need to get a few other people to go with me, preferably someone with experience.” She grinned at Sydney and Lewis. “You two interested?”

Lewis and Sydney stared at Vivi for a moment before exchanging looks. They turned back to Vivi. “Sure,” they both said.

“Whoa! Really?” asked Vivi. She hadn’t expected them to say yes.

“I’m kind of interested in ghosts too,” explained Lewis. “But only ghosts. I’ve never paid attention to the rest of that supernatural stuff.”

“I wanna learn magic!” proclaimed Sydney with stars in her eyes.

Arthur frowned. “I’m not sure how I feel about magic.”

“It’s science we don’t yet understand!” said Sydney. “Or at least my dad said something like that while pretending to be The Doctor.”

Arthur frowned. “Doctor who?”

Sydney laughed. “Exactly!”

“Huh?”

“What about you Arthur?” asked Vivi. “I know you and the supernatural don’t get along, but I wouldn’t want to leave you out.”

Sydney suddenly hugged Arthur, making him jump. “I can keep the ghosts away!”

Lewis nodded. “She’s really good at that for some reason.”

Vivi frowned in interest. They’d made references to ghosts not liking Sydney a couple of times before. “Do you have some sort of power that affects ghosts?”

Sydney and Lewis exchanged another couple of looks. It was kind of amazing how they could have a conversation without actually saying anything. “I scare ghosts for some reason,” admitted Sydney. “I’ve punched a couple by accident since I can’t see ‘em.”

What.

“That…” Vivi frowned in thought. “Well, it would definitely be good for keeping people safe or getting rid of negative entities, but it might hinder the actual investigation. You won’t get any evidence of ghosts if the ghosts have all been scared off.”

“You…You scare ghosts away?” Arthur was having trouble believing it, but when he thought about it…

Nothing strange ever happened when he was around Sydney and Lewis. In fact, a lot less happened when he was at school with them. He’d just been thankful that no one had found out about his tendency to attract ghosts and the like and hadn’t stopped to wonder if there was a reason for it.

“Y-You’ve been keeping away ghosts that hurt me this whole time.”

Sydney nodded. “Yep!”

Vivi frowned. “But how would you know about that in the first place? You just said you have no sensing ability whatsoever.”

Sydney froze up. “Er…” She gave Lewis a nervous look. “Help?”

Lewis sighed in resignation. “I’m a medium.”

Vivi gasped. “Really?! How strong is your sensory ability? Which senses do you use? Do you have any empathic abilities? Is it connected to growing up in a haunted house?”

Lewis blinked at the assault of questions. “Yes, I’m not sure how strong, I think all my senses, I don’t think I’m empathic, and I don’t think it has anything to do with this house. I was a medium before the Peppers adopted me.”

“You’re adopted?” questioned Vivi. “I guess you wouldn’t know if it runs in the family then.”

Sydney blinked in surprise. “That can happen?”

Arthur finally got the nerve to talk. “Did you see ghosts when you started sitting with me?”

Lewis winced and nodded.

“Is that the only reason you sat with me?” asked Arthur.

“Well, the first day, yeah,” admitted Sydney. “But just the first day. We liked hanging out with you. I mean…We could’ve just sat on the other side of the table and not said anything to you.” She nervously started messing with her glasses. “But, well, I’d understand if you were upset because that’s sort of an ulterior motive. Not that it’s a bad ulterior motive! At least I don’t think it is.”

“What Sydney means is that we’d like to think we’re friends now,” explained Lewis. “You don’t always plan to become friends with someone, and I think that’s a good thing because that means you get along and like each other enough for it to just happen.”

“So…You planned to keep me safe and ended up becoming my friends?” questioned Arthur. That…actually didn’t seem too bad. The two hadn’t wanted to take advantage of him in any way. They’d just seen someone in trouble and decided to help. He smiled. “Thank you. I don’t think I would have made any friends otherwise.”

Sydney slapped his back. “Hey, come on! You’re a cool guy!”

Arthur’s heart twinged. He considered correcting Sydney, but he didn’t think he was quite ready for that. Instead he shook his head. “I attract ghosts and monsters. Most people are scared away.”

Sydney frowned. “That sucks.”

Lewis frowned. “Are you a medium too? It sounds like ghosts are attracted to that sort of thing.”

Arthur shook his head. “I attracts ghosts, but I can’t detect them at all unless they’re visible to the general population. That happens a lot more often around me though. I think I might be giving them power boosts, which is probably part of the reason they’re drawn to me in the first place.”

Vivi made a thinking sound and looked between Arthur and Sydney. “You know…your powers are pretty much complete opposites. They might cancel each other out.”

Arthur thought about not having to deal with ghosts anymore. “That would be nice.”

“I don’t think it works quite like that,” argued Lewis. “The nastier stuff stays away when Sydney’s around, but more normal ghosts still stick around. They just usually keep their distance.”

Sydney nodded. “You’re the expert.”

Vivi hummed. “Have you seen any ghosts today?”

“Kurt. He’s a little boy.” Lewis nodded towards the stairs. “He’s watching us and the shows through the railing.” He noticed that Arthur was looking nervous. “Don’t worry. Kurt’s harmless. The most he’ll do is hang onto your clothes.”

Vivi squealed happily. “That’s amazing!”

“You’re okay with being able to see stuff like that?” asked Arthur.

Lewis shrugged. “I’ve never not been able to see them. This is normal for me. It does get scary sometimes, but we’ve learned some tricks.”

Sydney shrugged. “I’ve never been scared of any of this stuff.” Maybe if she could see these sorts of things…Then again knowing that she was effectively living ghost repellant seemed to dampen the impact of anything that might be considered scary, including ghost movies. Like how bulletproof skin would make you less afraid of guns, but not completely fearless because other people can get shot. Especially if bullets ricochet off your skin.

Hm…Would she need to worry about ricochet? Ghosts and bullets were two very different things.

As Sydney mused on the nature of her odd ability, Belle started whining again. Lewis started bouncing her and checked her. “She needs a change. I’ll be right back.”

“Um, so…What do you do when you’re looking for ghosts?” asked Arthur. He didn’t really want to go hunting for ghosts, but they’d probably end up coming to him anyway. Might as well get it over with. Besides, he could probably stick close to Sydney.

Vivi smiled. “Well, we take precautions, like holy water, protective talismans, warding, that sort of thing. Then you set up cameras and microphones. Someone might be watching and listening to those. Then you wander around in an organized manner to see if you can come across anything unusual, possibly with camcorders. It helps if you have a medium. After you decide you’ve been there long enough, you head home and review the footage and recordings for anything unusual. Then you take everything unusual that happens and try to explain it rationally, like wind, gas leak, vibrations, that sort of thing. You’d be surprised what can make someone hallucinate. Then if you have something you can’t explain, you have a ghost! Then you gotta figure out what to do about the ghost. Some you can leave, some you can’t. It varies.”

Sydney raised a hand. “Question! Why can’t we just have Lewis look around and tell us if there are any ghosts hanging around? I’d even give him space!”

“She has a point,” noted Arthur. “Especially if…if I was near Lewis.” He wouldn’t like it, but he’d had to put up with worse.

“Yeah, that would make things faster, but we’d need physical proof for whoever hired us so we’d need footage or audio,” explained Vivi. “Plus, what if the ghost decided not to talk to Lewis? Some are pretty crafty.”

“You sure know a lot about this stuff,” commented Sydney as she reached over to pet Ben.

Vivi puffed up proudly. “I come from a very long line of paranormal investigators.”

“That explains so much,” deadpanned Arthur. He’d been wondering why Vivi’s father was actually teaching her this sort of stuff and kept ghost photographs…and martial arts? “Wait. Why do you need to know how to fight if you’re dealing with ghosts?”

Vivi shrugged. “Dad says that you run into something physical enough that it’s a good idea.”

“What’s a good idea?” asked Lewis as he sat back down with a much calmer Belle.

“We’re gonna be ninjas!” Sydney proclaimed happily.

Lewis blinked. “Huh?”

“Vivi’s family does paranormal investigating, and they sometimes run into…actual monsters?” That made Arthur nervous.

Vivi nodded. “Basically, and ninja is a good way to explain some of my ancestors.”

“Cool” squealed Sydney.

“That is pretty cool!” agreed Lewis before frowning. “I don’t think I have the right body type for that though.”

The other three kids and Ben turned to look at Lewis. Taller than some adults already, broad shouldered, starting to build up noticeable muscle. The kind of guy you’d expect to see on the football or wrestling team. Unless you were one of his friends, in which case you would expect to find him in the manga or cooking club.

“Well, I’m not very good at ninja stuff either,” admitted Vivi. “Although if you’re interested maybe you guys can learn a bit of basic self-defense at least.”

“That would be awesome!” declared Sydney.

“We usually spend the day after school here so I can look after Belle,” said Lewis. “I guess maybe one of my parents could take the afternoon off.”

“You could bring her with you,” suggested Arthur. “Vivi’s grandmother lives with them and is retired, and Mrs. Yukino is there some days. They wouldn’t mind, right?” Arthur asked Vivi.

“Mom would love to take care of Belle for an afternoon,” said Vivi.

Lewis thought for another moment before turning to Arthur. “What sort of teacher is Mr. Yukino?”

“He’s tough and pushes you so you’ll grow, but he’s fair,” said Arthur. “I think learning a bit from him would be a good idea. Even if you don’t need to fight a ghost, it could come in handy if you ever get into trouble with a living person.” They wouldn’t be learning how to kill after all. All in all, pretty reasonable.

Lewis looked a bit thoughtful. Sydney elbowed him. “C’mon, this sounds fun.”

Lewis glanced at Sydney before nodding with a smile. “Okay, we’ll give it a try.”

Vivi grinned. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

#mystery skulls animated #msa + 1 #au #grrlpowercomic #Arthur Kingsman #Vivi Yukino #Lewis Pepper #sydney scoville jr.#Mystery the not-Dog #kids #baby Belle #cartoon marathon #this is how the group forms #origin

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feelingsdusk-writes · 6 years

Text

Right, wrong and everything in between

Prompted by @lostwithoutmyanchor: The prompt I mentioned: Maybe Steter - meeting online in a supernatural forum/chat. maybe AU meeting first time or somewhere in canon and them not realising who the other is.

Peter supposes that as a baby, there must have been some moments when it happened, but as far as his memories go, he can't actually remember a time in his life when he was truly happy. He came too late, too unexpected, too different, and his parents, who were thinking about retirement in a couple of years or three at the most and an easy life where their toughest choice would be whether they wanted whipped cream with their pancakes or not, never were able to forget that he was the reason they couldn't do that. Which Peter resents quite a bit, mind you, because it's not like they didn't do it anyway, pawing him off to Talia again and again.

And Peter guesses that he wouldn't have minded if Talia had cared for him beyond an abstract sense of responsibility towards her family, if she hadn't been barely a teenager (and later an adult, when Peter would finally stop trying) that didn't want to be saddled with a baby brother when she had other more important things to worry about like school, her boyfriend, her cheerleader competitions, college, her marriage, alphahood, her pregnancy.

(But never Peter).

And so, what Peter remembers about his childhood is the burn of disappointmentpainanger when he'd try his best to be the ideal son (perfect grades, medals at competitions, always helpful, tidy, calm), and it only seemed to earn him the opposite effect when they left him even more alone. Needless to say, he stopped being a child pretty early and by the time Laura came along and he suddenly was expected to help take care of her because she was a precious baby that needed to be loved (what's wrong with you Peter?), he had developed a hide thick enough to not rage inside about the double standards.

Except they're paying attention to him now and Peter feels about to burst out of his own skin.

They've made him what he is. He's a neat freak, an obsessive perfectionist, a cynic, a sarcastic shit. He's loyal but distant, he's dependable but vicious, he's smart but devious. Everything he is is a direct result of their actions but they keep asking what's wrong with you Peter?

It was their choice to make him the enforcer too (theirs, always theirs) and at the time Peter stupidly thought that maybe he had found his place finally, that such a position in the pack would earn him recognition (instead of the love he used to want, but that's fine, because he stopped wanting it a long time ago) and respect. Or shouldn't they be grateful that Peter keeps the pack safe at the very least?

(Apparently, even after all these years teaching him better, Peter still hasn't learned. Shame on him.)

He comes back breathless and shaking from exhaustion after taking on a witch that wouldn't heed Talia's warnings about leaving their territory and they look at him and ask what's wrong with you Peter? An omega tries to trespass and Derek is on his way, so Peter does what he must, leaving the kid covered in blood by accident but otherwise unharmed, and they ask what's wrong with you Peter? And it can't be said that Peter doesn't learn from his mistakes, because he steps back and dials it down a notch, but they still ask what's wrong with you Peter?

And so, he feels cornered because their eyes are on him at all times -and why the hell did he wish for their attention before? It's unbearable!- and nothing he tries seems to be the correct answer. Because either he's too vicious or too soft, either he's too violent or too inefficient, but neither of those or anything in between is the right option and it's driving him insane.

And Peter is a neat freak, an obsessive perfectionist and a cynic. He's distant, vicious and devious! But he's also loyal and dependable, and, above all, smart and knows himself enough to know that he's almost at the breaking point and he might do something he will regret later, so he leaves.

(Because shortcomings apart, they're still family, they're still pack, they're still his, for the better or the worse.)

Which is why he's sitting on a swing at a park downtown, almost at the edge of town, contemplating his options. Because the reality of it is that if he leaves, he'll become an omega unless he finds another pack that will take him in. In normal circumstances, Peter knows he would have been able to prove his worth, but with the pull Talia has, who would dare take him in and go against her? Peter's lips pull into a snarl, because he himself is partly to blame for that. While Talia has gained a lot of respect for her ability to perform a full shift and her upfront way of dealing with the problems that come her way, Peter is the one she's sent into the shadows to do the dirty work for her when her method failed, effectively cementing her image as a powerful alpha. So, essentially, Peter has made his own bed and now has to lie in it.

A hand comes into his direct line of vision and Peter startles, instantly on guard, because he never heard anyone approach, and he should have, no matter how distracted he was. He frowns suspiciously when it turns out that the hand belongs to a five (maybe six, he does look around Cora's age) year old kid that's handing him some gummy bears with a face devoid of any emotion. Whatever his age is, it's way too late for a kid this small to be out at this hour of the night, Peter notices, but then he remembers his own childhood and keeps silent.

"What's your name?" the little boy squeaks suddenly, hand still extended towards him. "Because dad says I can't speak to strangers but if you tell me your name then you won't be a stranger anymore and then I won't be talking to a stranger and breaking the rules anymore."

"Peter," he answers blinking before he can think of it, too thrown off by the speed of the kid's speech. "And I don't really think it works that way, kid."

"Hi, Peter, nice to meet you," the kid continues unfazed, reaching to shake his hand and leaving the gummy bears behind when they unclasp hands.

The boy nods self-satisfied, as if having remembered to fulfill the social niceties is a success for him, and then he proceeds to hop onto the free swing beside Peter. It takes him three tries to actually achieve that but Peter manages to keep a straight face despite feeling his lips wanting to twitch. Then he tries to sway but he's too short and his feet don't reach the ground, and finally Peter snorts softly and reaches to give him enough momentum to be able to swing by himself as he sticks one of the gummy bears in his mouth.

"Thanks, sir," the kid chirps.

The boy continues swinging silently for the next five minutes and Peter honestly doesn't know why he doesn't leave, because if someone finds him with an escaped kid in the middle of the night there's going to be hell to pay. And an escapee he is, of that Peter has no doubt. More over, this is not the first time he's done this either because he's way too calm about being alone in the dark and too prepared, which tells Peter even more about him, because he remembers doing the same when he was a little older than this boy, and knows the difference between hiding and "hiding". And the kid is hiding for sure. He's not trying to manipulate his parents emotionally by disappearing on them, he really doesn't want to be found and has come accordingly prepared to last all night. He has somewhat warm clothes, food, drinks and has chosen a secluded park where no one will think to look for him, but secure enough that if something happens he has a lot of places to hide and a 24h fast food joint just across the street where he can ask for help if he needs to.

(Smart kid.)

A normal person would call the police. Peter, who thinks more of whatever the kid may have left behind, who can see himself in him and knows that some kids aren't really kids and can take care of themselves, doesn't.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

They sit in silence for a bit and Peter tries to think about his own situation but his mind is blank. For the first time in his life he doesn't know what to do and now that the anger that had pushed him before has burned out, he just feels numb. He rubs his forehead tiredly and sighs. The little boy, who had let the momentum die a while ago and now was just content swinging his own legs, as if he couldn't keep still, reaches to place his backpack on his lap and then rummages inside until he seems to find what he's looking for. He takes a batman tupper out and offers its contents to Peter after a little hesitation. Peter declines and the kid shrugs and starts eating himself. Then he blinks, stops and reaches to pass Peter the rest of his gummy bears. Peter's lips twitch involuntarily and he takes the offered treat with a murmured thanks.

Much later, he hears a car coming down the road and looks in that direction, pondering if he should warn his little companion or not. Noticing his attention is elsewhere, the kid blinks at him quizzically.

"Car," he murmurs finally making up his mind, and if he had any doubts about the boy's situation, they get completely erased when he springs from the swing and hurriedly runs inside one of those domes with a lot of holes that Peter has never bothered to learn the name of. "Well," he sighs and goes after him, because why the hell not at this point? It's not like he wants to have to answer to any questions if it's a patrol car, after all.

It's a tight fit and the boy is looking at him very intensely now, as if he's trying to understand why would an adult hide, because he probably thinks what every kid thinks, that adults don't have to respond to anyone and can do whatever they want. But he seems like a very smart boy, so maybe he thinks Peter is a criminal? In any case, whatever he's thinking, it's obvious he makes up his mind about it quite quickly, though, because he looks inside his backpack again and passes a bag of chips to Peter before going back to his own food.

"Well," Peter sighs again, because this is a new low for him. He was supposed to be on his way to a new life and instead he's hiding with a five-maybe-six year old kid at a park in the middle of the night and eating said kid's provisions too.

He opens the bag anyway.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

He looks at the boy's tupper absently and ponders about it. Peter has never had one of those, his have always been generic. For his birthday he would get clothes or practical (impersonal) things, always hastily bought items when they finally remembered his birthday must have already passed because it was November already. This boy has a batman hoodie with batman pajamas and shocks underneath and a batman tupperware. The clothes look slightly small on him and the tupper is on the small side too. Maybe he's reading too much into it, but he'd bet that things started to change at home when those still fit him.

Peter wonders which is worse, not having ever been loved by family or having known the feeling and then losing it.

His phone rings and he sighs. He considers not picking up, but then he admits to himself that if he really was going to leave, he would have already done so by now and wouldn't be lingering around. He picks up.

After he hangs up, he closes his eyes and just concentrates on his breathing for a minute. When he opens them again, the kid is looking at him and there's something like recognition in his eyes. Peter takes off his red hoodie to drap it over his little shoulders when he catches a shiver running through his small frame and then turns to leave without a backwards glance.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

He sighs and then sticks his head inside again. "Listen, kid," he starts and then bites his lip. "There's nothing wrong with you. Whatever is happening to you, it's not your fault. They're the adults that should be taking care of you and there's nothing more you have to do but be the way you are, ok?" The boy is not breathing, Peter can tell. His eyes are almost impossibly wide and his hands are clenched around the tupper. "There's nothing wrong with you, ok?"

"But-"

"No," Peter cuts him implacably. Because the kid could be a devil for all he knows, but if at five-maybe-six he's so skilled at hiding, at escaping his own home, and police aren't swarming the streets after the almost two hours they've been here, whatever is wrong is not his fault. "There's nothing wrong with you."

There's a pause and the boy finally unclenches his hands. He swallows forcibly and for a second his eyes don't leave Peter's.

"There's... nothing wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you."

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"Exactly," Peter nods as he turns to leave. "Take care, kid, and don't forget that."

"Peter?" He looks back towards the boy and finds himself caught by eyes that know more than they should. "There's nothing wrong with you either, right?"

"I-yes," he stutters caught off guard before taking a deep breath and regaining his footing. "There's nothing wrong with me either, kid."

"Ok," the boy nods and Peter suddenly remembers how to breathe. "Goodbye, Peter."

And so Peter leaves and goes to search for Cora, who isn't in her bed and no one has seen her since the movie night ended half an hour ago. He finds her "hiding", apparently sulking (and not just a little frightened about being alone in the middle of the night despite her thunderous scowl) because she's grounded for pushing one of her classmates to get a toy she wanted, grabs her by the ear and takes her home.

Things don't get any better on the family front after that, but Peter doesn't care anymore. He's still a neat freak, an obsessive perfectionist, a cynic, a sarcastic shit. He's still loyal, distant, dependable, vicious, smart and devious, but there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. So when Talia tells him to take care of this or that threat, he does it and doesn't care about the looks he earns for his methods. And when she orders him to take care of the Paige issue (because she's always the white queen and Peter has to be the black knight), he does so without contemplations, and when they ask what's wrong with you, Peter? afterwards, he says nothing, which will always be is his shameless answer no matter what happens onwards.

If the closest he can get to happiness is by achieving mental peace, Peter will take it and be, well, happy.

And then he's on fire, everything is on fire, the pain is unbearable and it just won't stop. At some point, when he can't feel anything anymore and the screams have died, he briefly wonders if the kid had more luck than him before he welcomes the blessed darkness that closes down on him.

---

There are intruders in the house and it's Peter's job to stop them but the pain is unbearable and everything is in burning hot agony and Peter can't move. Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop. Peter can't stand it, Peter can't move, Peter is being dragged away, Peter can't protect his pack.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter screams and screams. The remaining pack bonds stretch thinner and thinner and thinner and thinner. They snap. He howls. He tries to grasp them but they slip through his fingers like sand. He howls and howls and howls.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter is trapped, he can't move, he's alone, defenseless, vulnerable. He rages and screams and howls but no sound comes out of his mouth. He wants to rip, to avenge but he's useless and his pack is dead.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter will tear them apart, he will. And he will enjoy every second of it. His fangs will bite into flesh, his claws will tear into them, and he will make them feel every ounce of pain tenfold. One by one he will hunt them down and he will make them regret ever thinking of hurting his pack. Hurtful and dismissive and infuriating, but his. His and no one else's. They will pay for taking them from him dearly.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

(Everything.)

---

For the first time in years he can move. The window is open and he surges through it. His legs give out and he grunts upon impact. He forces them to support his weight and pushes himself until he reaches the edge of the woods. The earthy smells assault his nose and the soft sounds of the forest fill his ears. He howls at the moon, high, high in the sky.

(No answer comes.)

---

Peter resists the temptation to rip the woman's throat out and goes towards the woods instead. It's a near thing but for now he needs her, so he can't teach her how wrong she is for treating him like a dog that needs to be let out to take a piss at night. It will eventually come to that but he will wait until his skin stops feeling like cracking leather, until he doesn't stumble every few steps because his muscles are still atrophied, until his lungs don't protest at every effort he makes.

Peter dreams about it, though. Vividly. Her shocked face when she realizes that she has chewed more than she can swallow, her panicked breaths as she tries to flee, her choked screams as his claws tear into her.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

For now he has more important things to concentrate, though, since he has some murderers to hunt down and a pack to avenge. Besides, he has all the time to teach her why prey can't play with predators after she has outlived her usefulness.

---

A month passes and he has yet to kill his nurse, who still treats him like a dog, who still acts like she has the upper hand, who still thinks that she will get what she wants. So, so stupid, but she's still surprisingly useful for now so he ignores it. Instead, Peter digs and digs until he finds the ones responsible for the fire.

All things considered, it's disgustingly easy. He gets his hands on all the reports and news articles on the fire, and he comes to a clear conclusion: someone either bribed the ones responsible for writing them or they doctored the evidence before the officials arrived.

It gives him a place to start in any case.

He tracks down one of the culprits to a seedy bar on the outskirts of town. It doesn't take him very long to ascertain that the man is drinking in an effort to drown the guilt he feels for having participated on the whole thing, even if he only faked the information in the report.

Humans are funny things. The man wishes to atone for his sins so much that he even wants to die, but when faced with the real possibility of dying, he fights tooth and nail to survive. Which suits Peter just fine, because he wants to make them experience the terror, the helplessness and the pain his pack felt along with the asphyxiating certainty of defeat in the end.

He directs the terrified man to where he wants him and then he even lets him have some advantage before he gives chase. Peter makes him run for hours until the man lets himself drop in exhaustion to the ground, now too tired, too certain of his imminent death that he can't care anymore. Peter makes him care once more and then, only then, tears into him, pacing himself to make it last. Ultimately, the man dies of shock, his heart giving out, rather than because of the wounds Peter inflicts on him.

With the information he got out of that man, he tracks down a bigger prey, one that participated directly in lighting his house on fire. He learned his lesson from his first prey and knows to push him only so far before getting his hands on him. When he tires of the chase, he bites into his ankles so he drops to the ground with a scream, his tendons ripped and unable to run anymore. If the man wants to move he'll have to crawl, but before he makes it anywhere he'll die of bloodloss. That certainty is so, so sweet... but still not enough. Every new sound Peter extracts out of him is as satisfying as the last one and he only laments that he can't get more out of him, that his fragile human body breaks so quickly under his hands. He'll do better next time, but for now he's satisfied with having extracted more names from him before he lost his voice.

Then, one day, Laura appears and whatever good remains from the Peter from before the fire suffers a swift death just then when he realizes that it wasn't that he had been left packless because everyone had died, but because he had been abandoned; when he learns that she's only back because the news of the killings had reached her (the markings he instructed his nurse to leave on the animals to draw the ultimate culprits out calling her instead), not because she had finally come back for Peter.

He suspects it never even crossed her mind, just like with Talia a long time ago. But what did he expect? She (they, all of them) was taught that way, made that way just like Peter was made by them. But Peter learned from his mistakes so Laura will too?

"What's wrong with you, Peter?" she asks horrified when he tells her why he killed those men, and then she refuses to avenge the pack. "I'm the alpha," she growls. "I forbid you to continue."

Peter blacks out for a moment. When he comes back to himself, he feels nothing at the sight of his dead niece. Some part of him is vaguely dissapointed that it doesn't feel cathartic in some way that his claws took her life for her transgressions but, honestly, he feels nothing besides the need to scoff at the look of surprise and betrayal that will be permanently engraved on her face.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

---

Peter is stronger, faster, more powerful than he has ever been! It's an exhilarating and euphoric feeling and he can't have enough of it.

But he can get even better if he gets his own pack and since Peter has always been a firm believer of taking advantage of the opportunities that rise around him, there's no time like the present. He lunges forward towards the boy -Pretty healthy if with a slightly weak-looking body. Smells a little like medicine, but unless he has some mental illness, the transformation will take care of it. If not, Peter will take care of him like a good alpha should, and teach him to use what he has. If he dies, he will try again.- and he doesn't even get to scream before Peter's teeth are sinking in his side.

The kid takes off running. Peter is very amused at the pup and entertains the thought of playing with him for a while, but he can hear people drawing near and it's not like the teen won't come when Peter beckons him tomorrow anyway, so he lets him slip away and returns to his hospital room even though he wants nothing less. However, since he wants the pleasure of seeing Kate Argent's surprised face as he rips her throat out when she inevitably shows up, he'll bear with it for now. Which, sadly, also means that he can't get rid of his nurse either despite being self-sufficient again.

Well, they do say that what resists you is sweeter in the end.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

---

Well, look at who decided to finally show up.

Derek has grown up a lot since he saw him last, about six years ago. Gone are the baby fat and the awkward limbs but the bunny teeth that Peter used to vaguely find somewhat adorable remain. Viciously, Peter wishes Talia was still alive to see her son, to see what her ways brought upon them, what her negligent teachings resulted in. A mediocre daughter that couldn't even keep up with the most basic duty of an alpha (never leave a packmate behind) and a stupid son that trusted the hunter that killed them all, that's what. And now said daughter is dead and said son doesn't look capable enough to survive by himself. Peter really wishes he could bring his sister back from the dead to see, because this is ultimately her fault and it's not fair that she got the easy way out as always.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

He has the sudden urge to just gouge his nephew's eyes out when they land on his scarred face and the nearly asphyxiating scent of despair and self-hate that clings to him threatens to overpower Peter's sensitive nose. He can't feel that remorseful if he's showing up now, probably just because Laura has dropped out of the radar without warning.

He contains himself, but just barely. It helps that Derek merely stands there looking at him just for five minutes, making no move to speak, and then leaves. If he had tried to touch him, he doesn't know if he'd been able to restrain himself. Peter doesn't like to be touched nowadays. It's more than enough that he has to bear with sponge baths, with being positioned here and there by complete strangers with no say whatsoever for the sake of keeping the farce up. If the touch wasn't so clinical the walls would have been painted red a long time ago, and that may still happen if a certain nurse makes another crude joke about some parts of his anatomy.

Peter's lips curl derisively for a second before he schools his face into a neutral expression once again. He lets his hands relax too when he notices he's about to twist the metal of the wheelchair out of shape.

He wonders about what he should do about Derek. His first instinct is to kill him, of course, because Derek is not pack and is in his territory. Besides, instincts aside and on a more rational note, he doesn't have any delusions about his dear nephew's reaction when he finds out he killed Laura. And he will, that's for sure, because they aren't pack anymore (if they were, Peter would have felt the bond with Derek at the same time the alpha powers settled, but nothing was there until that boy's bite took some hours ago and that fragile link sprouted to life), so there's no way the alpha powers would have gone to Peter instead of Derek if she had died naturally, and he can't sell someone else killing her and him taking revenge for her since he has already feigned still being comatose. However, after what he's seen in the scant minutes he was here, Derek might actually welcome death as it will be the end of his suffering and Peter doesn't want to give him the easy way out.

Choices, choices.

Well, Kate Argent is bound to appear soon and if Derek is here, she'll be inclined to think it was him who killed those people. Leaving his nephew alive instead of killing him or driving him out of the territory might prove to be useful to keep her attention off Peter while he approaches her.

If he proves to be too troublesome, Peter can always change his mind at a later date, after all, and drive him out of the territory.

---

The boy comes only once, completely feral and out of control, and, of all things, tries to save the bus driver from Peter. He bats the unruly pup away (he doesn't know better, after all) but in the end he has to leave because the boy is so out of it, so defensive, that to get what he wants he'd have to kill him and Peter doesn't want that. And even though the need to rid the world of that scum that is cowering and smelling like urine is almost irresistible, it's not worth the price right now. Besides, either the bus driver will die before help arrives or en route to the hospital, or he will end up not very far to Peter's own room, and his nurse has to keep being useful unless she wants to become expendable, after all.

After that incident, the boy won't come no matter how many times Peter calls. One part of him is peeved about the insubordination, but the other is reluctantly impressed because it demonstrates a great deal of the self-control that he lacked on their first encounter, so maybe he's had luck this time.

Except it doesn't take him too long to find out how wrong he is because he couldn't have found a more asinine teenager even if he'd tried. He won't submit, it looks like he resents being a werewolf despite all the advantages it has given him (he actually thinks of them as a compensation, which Peter finds pretty insulting, thank you very much) and, worst of all, he seems to share the same stupidity as Derek where the Argents are concerned. Peter would be able to work with that even if it's not the best foundation to start from, but add to that his obtuse refusal to be taught to round it all up and it makes his first beta a perfect failure.

How disappointing.

Peter is reluctant about how to proceed, though. While he can't afford to be weighted down by a liability, the boy is just a stupid pup, he doesn't know better, and however fragile it might be, he's pack, because that bond is still there. And Peter not only takes care of his messes -because this is undoubtedly his mess; a poor decision made hastily that he won't repeat ever again, sure, but that resolution doesn't change that it's his responsibility to deal with it- but he takes care of his pack no matter how lacking they may be. It's convoluted, he knows, but it's how things work, how good alphas must be.

Still, not everything is a loss and the whole situation may be salvageable yet, because the boy with his wayward beta is certainly interesting and could prove to be the piece he's missing to get his beta to come. With no apparent previous knowledge of the supernatural, he has managed to teach a newly turned wolf control to a certain degree, which is impressive. He also hasn't chickened out even when faced with a feral werewolf, and that shows a loyalty that Peter values above anything else. Even better, he doesn't seem afraid to do what's necessary to keep his people safe, demonstrating a callousness that makes Peter giddy to see what he would be capable of if pushed.

All of which means that no matter how everything evolves, he can't just take care of one Scott McCall even if he continues to refuse the bond and ends up breaking it completely (thus turning omega and not pack and not Peter's responsibility anymore), as it will earn him a vengeful teenager with enough smarts to actually take him down. Again, a trait that he appreciates, but not aimed at him.

Well, if the worst comes to happen, there are hunters in town and Scott is dating the daughter of one, so Peter is sure that at one point or another, if he turns omega, he will cross a line and get himself killed and save Peter the trouble. He has patience in spades, he can wait.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

----

Kate Argent finally comes into town. Peter expected her to come into his hospital room and try something but she doesn't. Peter doesn't know if he's disappointed or not about it, but part of him is relieved, because he knows that if she'd had the gall... And while it would have been an immensely satisfying thing, if anyone deserves Peter taking his sweet time to tear their world apart, it's her.

In the meantime, Peter tracks down another cockroach of the ones that helped burn his pack alive and goes to pay him a visit. As his claws are tearing into him without contemplations, he catches a wiff of something that is not human in a terrified girl that witnesses the whole thing along with another boy, and he files it out as something to investigate at a later date. He leaves the mangled corpse behind in clear sight, hoping that it will drive the message to Argent. You can run, you can hide, but his is what will happen to you no matter how much you try to avoid it.

Anticipation is part of the game, after all.

But still, Kate is a dangerous animal and confusing her would be worthwhile (and also Peter could use a little less of police patrols going around, to be honest), so he catches a mountain lion and releases it on the parking lot of the school and watches from far away as chaos reigns.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

---

He expected some kind of action from his wayward beta (prompted, no doubt, by Stiles), but being howled at to be lured at night to school is not precisely what he predicted. Nevertheless, he bites so to speak, and decides to make the most out of it and tricks the Argent girl into the school (maybe if she displays the common attitude of her family towards werewolves Scott will finally wake up?), getting the unexpected bonus of the boy and girl from the store, which is perfect, because he wanted to take a second look at her anyways.

It's a very... revealing night, that's for sure.

First, Lydia Martin is a banshee and she doesn't know it, which can prove to be really useful for Peter at a later date if he plays his cards right. Second, that boy from the store has been scratched by a werewolf (either Derek or Scott, but Peter is pretty sure it was the former) and is exhibiting some kind of reaction to it. Third... he still cares at least a little bit for Derek, which is vexing to say the least.

By all means, Peter should have taken the chance to kill him on that parking lot but he simply incapacitated him. True, he hurt him quite a bit (that he cares about him doesn't change the deep well of resentment he harbours, thank you very much) but he'll recover from it given enough time. Why? Derek is proving to be more of a hindrance than anything else, because not only do the Argents already know that he's not the alpha and are trying to use him to find Peter, but also, by the looks of it, he's teaching all sorts of nonsense to Scott that couldn't be more wrong. Which means that either Peter still cares about Derek or he still feels some kind of familiar duty towards his nephew. And he can't deny this because when he's shifted he acts more based on instinct, and he stayed away from vital organs... and it certainly wasn't because he wanted to prolong his suffering.

All in all, Peter is left floundering a little because he has to re-evaluate his stance on this matter. However, before he can decide exactly about how to proceed, he gets found out.

"You must be Stiles," he purrs, delighted to finally have a chance to asses Stiles' intelligence in person without any intermediaries.

Except apart from an admittedly good self-preservation instinct, he doesn't get to find out much because Derek intervenes.

(He sighs inwardly. Always so dramatic, his nephew.)

After the encounter, Peter abandons any semblance of subtlety and leaves the hospital entirely. He has managed to convince Derek that he killed Laura without recongnizing her. It's a little stretch of the truth, because he obviously knew it was her, but it's also true that he wasn't in his right mind when he killed her and he'd have probably not done it if he was. In any case, there's no way to prove it was otherwise and with the way he laid it out, Derek detected no lie, so Peter is pretty satisfied with the results.

While he waits for an opportunity to take Kate down, he does everything he can to make Scott accept the pack. Peter doesn't think it will get him anywhere, to be honest, but it has the added bonus of acting as a test for Stiles to see if he will be a worthy beta, because it's obvious that just winging it won't work for a person with the kind of luck Peter has. Sadly, Scott is more than proof enough of that. He's also sure that the only way to get Scott is to get Stiles, because they're attached at the hip, but at this point he'll be quite content with only getting the latter.

He tries to make Scott give up everyone in his life and Stiles metaphorically grabs at him and doesn't let go. It also serves to make his beta stay away from the Argent girl, but sadly, it only makes Scott even more infatuated because of their forbidden love.

He asks Scott's mother to a date, and the teen in question just gapes uselessly. Stiles crashes his jeep on Peter's car to stop them from having said date. He nearly laughs delightedly right there.

Derek disappears, so Peter decides to kill two birds with one stone. He crashes their prom night both to attack Stiles' date (because Peter always has backup plans) and to get Derek's whereabouts out of him, and the teen bargains for her life, terrified but sure. He gives up a way to locate Derek through Scott's phone, but Peter can see a plan already forming in his eyes, so he makes the teen go with him, because a person like Stiles can do a lot of damage out of sight, while Peter has control of the situation if he doesn't leave him behind.

"Do you want the bite, Stiles?" Peter asks instead of simply taking it and the teen says no. He's lying, he can tell, but Peter leaves anyway. He has more than enough time to convince him later.

(He doesn't.)

That night, he finally manages to slit Kate Argent's throat from side to side, so at least there's that. Unlike with Laura, this time it does feel cathartic because even if he doesn't get to tear stripe after stripe of skin out of her he can torture her with the prospect of losing her niece. -He instantly wishes he could revive Kate so he could kill her again, but this time drawing it out, just like she executed his pack (imperfect, neglectful, bastards most of the time, but ultimately his) agonizingly slow.- But drawing an apology from her provides nothing to Peter besides the pleasure of getting her to give something she didn't want to give, so while she's still conscious, he jumps at Allison, who is going to turn up like her aunt anyways, because that family is a poison like that.

In the end, he doesn't have time to convince Stiles, after all. He ends up on fire and Derek tears his throat out without an ounce of hesitation, just like Peter did with Kate. The little and deeply buried part of him that didn't want to kill Derek because it remembered dies a swift death, unlike Peter, who agonizes for a bit still on fire as he chokes on his own blood.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

---

Getting one Lydia Martin to do what he wants shouldn't be this easy, seeing the terrifying intelligence hidden under her almost too perfect strawberry blond curls, but it is. It helps that she's mostly ignorant about the supernatural world and that Peter keeps her terrified enough not to get her footing back, he thinks, because he doubts it would be this easy if she wasn't. As it is, though, it's just as easy as getting information from her about what's happening in Beacon Hills right now.

Part of him considers letting go for a moment, because so much stupidity is unbearable. Really? Peter had thought he had made a bad call biting Scott, but Derek is taking that to a whole new level. Then again, what can he expect? This is Talia's teachings working their magic, after all. She had barely started training Laura, but she never even bothered with Derek, not even just in case something happened.

(Peter kinda hopes that the afterlife is a thing so that she's watching.)

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

It's not like he has any other options, though, because now that the ritual has started he has to finish it or face being stuck in this limbo of sorts for the rest of eternity or, with any luck, until this girl dies. And although with how things are progressing that doesn't seem too far off in time, really, with Peter's luck she'll die and he'll be haunting this place forever, so he better move things along before that happens.

His nephew's horrified face almost makes it all worth the trouble and he nearly stays to gloat. Instead, he leaves for now. He's already been left behind and killed by him once, and Peter always learns from his mistakes... or he tries to anyway, and he can tell that he's weaker than he was before he was even the alpha, so right now he wouldn't stand a chance if Derek tried to enact a kill uncle, take two.

He knows he can't stay away from his alpha (his lips curl derisively against his will) for long, though. Not only he can't afford to turn an omega right now, but his information about this ritual is limited (which is why he left it as a last resort), so for all he knows, it will unravel if he's not near the alpha that brought him back and he'll end up six feet under again and stuck in between. And while he doesn't want to touch what's going on in Beacon Hills right now with a ten foot pole, he's gone through too much trouble to stay alive to let it go to waste. Besides, while he's not as insane and hell bent on revenge as he was before dying -because there's no doubt about that, he was completely crazy... so crazy, sloppy and out of control he wants to cringe- he still has a little of that feeling inside. Enough, in fact, to seize the opportunity to take care of more Argents if it wanders by and doesn't pose a threat to his continued existence. Besides, staying alive as a big fuck you to the family that disdained his ways and ended up dying for not being more like him in the end is something he appreciates quite a bit too.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

So, all in all, he has to depend on Derek for now until he can get himself an alpha to kill and regain his independence again. Which means he has to find out why Derek turned on him at the last minute. He's not looking forward to that conversation now that he hasn't the upper hand, that's for sure.

But before that, he has to know what's happening exactly to be able to play his cards right. Because as much as he knows the information he got from Lydia to be true, it's also an incomplete and he hasn't ever been one to rely on intel he hasn't acquired by himself anyway.

So information gathering he goes... After getting a shower, clean clothes and a much needed haircut, of course, because he felt disgusting, thank you very much. Maggots and dirt is not a look he favours by any means, after all.

He gathers as much as he can before even contemplating coming back. From what he learns the Argent girl is as much of a psycho as her aunt (who called it? who?), Gerard Argent is the master of the kanima now and plotting something nefarious (nope, not worrying at all), Scott is double playing with him (which ratches up his decision to bite him right to the top of his not-a-good-call list because how can he be so stupid?), two of Derek's betas are about to risk becoming omegas just to leave this hellhole of a town (which simultaneously makes them idiots and smart and he never thought that possible) while the third is gravitating towards Scott (another idiot), and Derek is as an incompetent of an alpha as Peter expected him to be. Apart from that, the video store boy is the kanima, Stiles seems to be the same and Lydia still doesn't know why he had to use her for the ritual. Summarised, everything is going to go to hell in a nicely wrapped package and probably over the next few days at the most.

He could have certainly chosen to come back at a better time... if the damn ritual hadn't had a deadline, that is.

Well, no matter. Peter can use this to his advantage, actually, because Derek will need him in one way or another because of the situation and he won't be able to say no.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

As luck would have it, just the day he decides to give it a go, Derek's betas grow a backbone (one Peter still isn't sure is a smart or a stupid one) and tell him they're leaving. Peter swoops in while the wound is still gaping open, so to speak, and he gets thrown around for all his troubles. He takes it for a bit, waiting for most of the anger to burn itself out and when it doesn't seem likely, he finally snaps.

(Because no matter what, the one thing he won't do is beg.)

It works.

"See?" Peter mutters looking at his reflection with a grimace. The wound in his mouth is still sluggishly bleeding even if it is mending itself slowly. Derek is sitting a few feet away on the stairs' steps, face stony and silent. Peter doesn't let it deter him. "Fine example, right here. I'm not healing as fast. Coming back from the death isn't easy you know, I'm not as strong as I used to be," he states simply, as if the person that is with him isn't the one who killed him. Putting his weaknesses in the open leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he sees no other way to put Derek at ease so it's a necessary evil. "I need a pack, an alpha. Like you." And God if this isn't humiliating for Peter, who even at his worst hasn't ever depended on anyone. "I need you as much as you need me."

"Why would I want help from a total psycho?" Derek grunts after he scoffs, not even turning to look at Peter.

"First of all, I'm not a total psycho," Peter corrects him before feeling the need to point out. "By the way, you're the one that slashed my throat right open, but we're all works in progress, right? So." Is there a flicker of regret he sees there? Oh, good, Peter feels better about wanting to find alpha powers somewhere else now that he sees some reciprocity on the familial front. "We need each other. Sometimes when you need help, you turn to people you'd never expect."

Derek's shoulders slump a little as his mouth presses into a tighter line and Peter knows he has gained a foothold, so it's time to use what always saved him the spot in his pack no matter what happened: his knowledge.

He shares what he knows about Scott and Gerard and tells him how to save Jackson, because for all that Derek's first inclination seems to be killing (which Peter finds equally amusing and hypocritical on his part), deep down he wants exactly the opposite.

Several hours later Peter is regretting deeply ever coming back to life. Jackson is about to turn into a gigantic creature that has wings (which implies flying, as if it wasn't sufficiently terrifying when it was earth-bound) and they have to rely on Tweedledee and Tweedledum to bring it towards them. Ah, and with the help of Chris Argent, wonderful! If that wasn't bad enough, Derek is doing as always and rushing in without any plan whatsoever, which is exactly what that geriatric fascist wants. This is the recipe for disaster and Peter can do nothing but to try to stay away from the crossfire and wait for an opportunity to either strike or beat it as fast as his legs can carry him because he really wasn't exaggerating (if anything, he was downplaying it) when he said he was weak.

Life has never been better.

(That was sarcasm, if anyone was wondering.)

Everything goes to hell, of course, no surprises there. Gerard makes his appearance after making Jackson maim Derek and the little mini Kate doesn't have any qualms about shooting her first love. Again, nothing surprising there. What is surprising is Scott using Derek to bite Gerard because he wants to be cured of cancer, even more so when it turns out the teen has been switching the man's medication with mountain ash filled pills so that if it came down to it, the bite would kill him. It's impressively cunning and Peter would find himself reluctantly impressed if he didn't dislike the sloppy execution (despite being at odds, no one can use Peter's family unless it's Peter himself) and didn't suspect someone else's hand at play in all this.

Nevertheless, Peter finds the image of a black goo vomiting Gerard a sight for the sore eyes. A sight that gets completed by the little bitch's expression of betrayal and self-loathing and Chris' revolted and pained one. Well, that earns Scott a descend to the still respectable second position on his not-a-good-call list, congratulations.

(Given his previous record, Peter is pretty sure he won't stay that low on the list for long, though.)

Everything devolves into a fist fight once again and why is everyone forgetting about the psycho bitch that was trying to kill them not a minute ago, Peter doesn't understand, not even in the face of a common enemy, so he keeps his distance.

Stiles chooses that moment to crash his jeep right through the walls and into the kanima, bringing Lydia with him. Peter would swear he hears a celestial chorus singing in the background, because yes! Someone else thinking with their brains and not their fists! Peter feels even more vindicated when the teen beats a hasty retreat right afterwards, because someone finally has an ounce of self-preservation instincts too!

Lydia goes forward, terrified but unwavering, holding her trembling hand up with what looks like a key. Peter is quite ambivalent about her, but he hopes she doesn't end up a shish kebab if only so that dealing with Jackson doesn't become even more difficult. He has already been thrown around quite a bit today and while a bed sounds heavenly right now, he won't get that until this matter is resolved. And that will happen certainly sooner if Lydia doesn't end up in a kanima claw skewer.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

She doesn't and Jackson turns back partially. He nods at Derek while Lydia cries, and while that is clearly a sign of acceptance to his fate, Peter doesn't want to risk it (especially since Derek goes for the frontal assault as always) so he attacks from behind too. And Jackson dies in a scene worthy of a movie that Peter would give an Oscar to.

Thank god it's over, Peter really needs that bed and cleaning this mess up is going to take a while.

Except since this is Beacon Hills, nothing is that easy, and Jackson comes back to life a regular werewolf. Color Peter confused, because he's never heard of this happening... but well, now he doesn't have to find a way to bring back a body to the morgue, so at least that's nice? And since there's no way that Chris Argent will not take care of his father's body, he doesn't get the pleasure of burning it either, so essentially the wish of a bed in his near future has become more of a certainty rather than a possibility.

"Is leaving him alive really wise?" he asks, because someone has to, because they don't know if this change is permanent.

Except for Stiles, who just purses his lips, and Chris Argent, who is as stony as ever, the rest turn to look at him horrified.

"What's wrong with you, Peter?" Derek hisses.

Peter smiles with all teeth.

(Ah, so it's going to be this way.)

---

And now the alpha pack is in town, isn't that wonderful?

Why was he so adamant on staying alive besides for being a contrary bastard?

(Peter has to remind himself a lot of the sweet sight of a destroyed Argent family these days.)

---

"What's wrong with you?" seethes Derek before throwing Peter into a wall and leaving.

Peter picks himself up, a satisfied smirk never leaving his face, and dusts his clothes. Riling his nephew is so easy and at the same time so immensely satisfying... His day isn't complete if those words haven't left his mouth and if he gets him to lose it enough to get physical, he counts it as a win, because lately that doesn't happen that much for some reason he can't discern. What? He'll take pleasure from everything he can these days. And since Stiles is here most of time helping with the search of Erica and Boyd, he's become his unwitting accomplice, because boy, does he irritate Derek. Peter would go as far as to consider it a gift the teen has.

He'll never admit it to the teen, of course, but he really enjoys the verbal matches he has with him. Stiles has always been mouthy, but now that he doesn't think likely that Peter will attack him (although Peter knows he keeps mountain ash on himself at all times, the smart kid) his invective is a thing of beauty.

Out of all the people that Peter could have been saddled with, he has been lucky, indeed.

(Part of him mourns that Stiles wasn't the one out there in the woods or that he didn't accept the bite when Peter could give it to him. The possibilities... Ah, it would have been glorious, wouldn't it?)

"Anything you want to share with the class, Stiles?" he drawls to the teen, who has been staring fixedly at him since Derek left to drag Isaac into another patrol through the woods, hoping to find something that wasn't there yesterday, or the day before, or the day before (and so on) and that Peter bets that won't be today either.

"You know, I was a kid so I had an excuse, but what's your deal?"

Peter arches an eyebrow and levels the teen with an unimpressed stare. Stiles huddles in his too big red hoodie and raises both eyebrows at him, unrepentant. Peter blinks slowly, because he wasn't wearing that before and because it feels familiar. Suddenly, his breath catches because he's pretty sure that if he looks on the back of it, he'll find a 01 accompanied by his last name in big bold letters.

"There's nothing wrong with you? What a load of bullshit." Peter can't breathe and he's insanely grateful that Stiles can't hear that. "There's something wrong in everyone, so who fucking cares?"

"Wha-"

"There's something wrong in everyone, Peter," Stiles repeats, his intense eyes never leaving Peter's, "so who fucking cares? Right, wrong, who cares? Whoever says that there's nothing wrong with them is either delusional or a child or plain stupid."

"There's... something wrong with me?" Peter finds himself unconsciously parroting back and this is ridiculous, this shouldn't affect him this much, shouldn't feel as if he's having an epiphany. "And there's nothing wrong with that?"

"Not unless the wrong in you tries to have another go at my people, because then my wrong would come out to play, and everything would be wrong with that... for you, capiche?"

"Duly noted," Peter answers as dryly as he can, because his world feels off its axis right now.

Then, Stiles extends an arm, hand clearly possed for a handshake and Peter is reaching before he can think of it. When Stiles lets go, gummy bears have been left behind.

Peter can't help it. He laughs.

(And for the first time, he feels happy.)

What's wrong with you, Peter?

Who cares?

#prompts #teen wolf fics #my writing #teen wolf #steter

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rahulfinesse-blog · 4 years

Text

Week 11: Conclusion: Audience studies in an Era of Danification

In this final chapter, we understand the true definition of the term audience after exploring media audiences from many perspectives like objects of media influence, quantified constructions of institutions, active users and subculture and media producers. Sullivan listed different shifts in audience history, that describe how audiences have evolved over time. The first is mobile platform audience experiences, which is how audience members are able to experience media from anywhere. From once having to wait for a specific show or news cast, audiences now have the ability to use different platforms to experience different things. We now have different applications or services we use depending on what we are trying to experience or consumer, for example, Netflix if we want to watch a movie, Youtube if we want to learn something and Apple music if we want to listen to something. Second is cross platform audience experiences, this allows audiences to interact with the same media through different platforms which further fulfills our experience. An example of this would be video games based off of movies, at first we interact with the initial media when we see the movie and then we are able to continue interacting with it through the game after the movie is done. Batman is great example of a movie that was also created into a game. The Batman franchise knew the heavy support the audience had for the movie and making it into a game allowed them to experience what they seen in the film themselves by being able to control and complete mission through Batman. The third shift was, prosumer content where individuals now have the ability to produce and consume media at the same time. This can be done through the creation of websites or on social media. I personally am a prosumer because I use social media, which I am an active audience member of, to produce content on my clothing brand and generate revenue by selling my products online through social media. This is done by me creating ads and interacting with other audience members who follow my social media account. Transmedia is another shift listed by Sullivan, where multiple media platforms are used to continue or craft a narrative. This is seen commonly in TV series, besides the actual series being consumed there are many audience made blogs or discussions created based off of it. These discussions give audience members to discuss plot and create connections between things that they wouldn’t of in the show. Someone in my seminar even mentioned that while watching Game Of Thrones he logs into a forum where he discusses what is going on in the show with others. Paratexts is the fifth shift which is any textual material that surrounds a media text and informs us about them. Things like trailers, advertisements, posters, news stories and merchandise are all examples of paratexts. These things help us decode and get a sense of the intended meanings and effects before actually consuming the text. Trailers are the most prominent example of paratexts in my opinion, whether its trailer to a movie or a preview of a song it gives an idea of what to expect. Unfortunately, as an audience member I believe a lot of trailers ruin the movie for me because they showcase all the main scenes which is why I like to avoid watching the trailer. The next shift audience polarization allows audiences to avoid media they find distasteful or offensive, this supports the fact they we as an audience are agents and get to choose what media we want to consume. I personally do not like listening to country music, not saying that it is bad or disregarding the genre but it is just not my type of music. Since I am not a fan of the music I avoid any media that promotes the genre nor do I follow any producers of that type of media. Audience fragmentation also goes hand in hand with polarization because, while individuals get to avoid certain media, a select niche of very popular media is consumer by everyone. The creates the long tail affect which breaks down audience consumption into the head, which is the small group of popular media and the tail, which is the different smaller media content individuals consume. I believe Soundcloud is a perfect example of both the head and tail of fragmentation. The app itself belongs in the head, because millions of audience members use this app on a daily basis to listen to their favorite artist but, the majority of artists who upload their music onto the app are a part of the tail, because minus the major artists who are globally recognized the smaller artists who produce the same content do not have the same following, thus resulting in fewer audience members. The monetization of audience behavior is a one of the biggest shift in audience history, because now audience members have become a commodity and the content producers get paid based off their consumption. This is why a rise of Youtubers has formed because people know they can make videos of almost anything and get paid per view. An example of this would be music streaming services like Apple Music and Spotify, audience members not only pay monthly for a subscription for the app but from each time they play a song the artist who created the song gets paid, thus monetizing what us as audience members see as entertainment. The final shift is content on demand, this means audience members have the power to consume content at moment or time they want to. With so many different types of media that cater to our every need, whenever we crave the need for something we can fulfil it. Whether it is wanting to get an update on a game, watch an old movie or learn a new workout plan, whenever we want to consume a specific type of content it is available. One type of content I personally consume on demand is Instagram, there will be various times in a day, sometimes even minutes after checking it I will go onto Instagram on just scroll through the feed. Though it doesn’t solve any desire, it entertains me and gives me a break from whatever I was doing.

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feelingsdusk · 7 years

Note

The prompt I mentioned: Maybe Steter - meeting online in a supernatural forum/chat. maybe AU meeting first time or somewhere in canon and them not realising who the other is.

Thank you @ssree for proofing and for listening to me whine about this one for this long. Because people, this one was a nightmare and I’m never ever doing something like this again T.T

—

Right, wrong and everything in between.

Prompted by@lostwithoutmyanchor: The prompt I mentioned: Maybe Steter - meeting online in a supernatural forum/chat. maybe AU meeting first time or somewhere in canon and them not realising who the other is.

(But never Peter).

Except they're paying attention to him now and Peter feels about to burst out of his own skin.

(Apparently, even after all these years teaching him better, Peter still hasn't learned. Shame on him.)

(Because shortcomings apart, they're still family, they're still pack, they're still his, for the better or the worse.)

"Peter," he answers blinking before he can think of it, too thrown off by the speed of the kid's speech. "And I don't really think it works that way, kid."

"Hi, Peter, nice to meet you," the kid continues unfazed, reaching to shake his hand and leaving the gummy bears behind when they unclasp hands.

"Thanks, sir," the kid chirps.

(Smart kid.)

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

He opens the bag anyway.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter wonders which is worse, not having ever been loved by family or having known the feeling and then losing it.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

"But-"

There's a pause and the boy finally unclenches his hands. He swallows forcibly and for a second his eyes don't leave Peter's.

"There's... nothing wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you."

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"Exactly," Peter nods as he turns to leave. "Take care, kid, and don't forget that."

"Peter?" He looks back towards the boy and finds himself caught by eyes that know more than they should. "There's nothing wrong with you either, right?"

"I-yes," he stutters caught off guard before taking a deep breath and regaining his footing. "There's nothing wrong with me either, kid."

"Ok," the boy nods and Peter suddenly remembers how to breathe. "Goodbye, Peter."

If the closest he can get to happiness is by achieving mental peace, Peter will take it and be, well, happy.

---

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

(Everything.)

---

(No answer comes.)

---

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

---

It gives him a place to start in any case.

"What's wrong with you, Peter?" she asks horrified when he tells her why he killed those men, and then she refuses to avenge the pack. "I'm the alpha," she growls. "I forbid you to continue."

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

---

Peter is stronger, faster, more powerful than he has ever been! It's an exhilarating and euphoric feeling and he can't have enough of it.

Well, they do say that what resists you is sweeter in the end.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

---

Well, look at who decided to finally show up.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

Choices, choices.

If he proves to be too troublesome, Peter can always change his mind at a later date, after all, and drive him out of the territory.

---

How disappointing.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

----

Anticipation is part of the game, after all.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

---

It's a very... revealing night, that's for sure.

All in all, Peter is left floundering a little because he has to re-evaluate his stance on this matter. However, before he can decide exactly about how to proceed, he gets found out.

"You must be Stiles," he purrs, delighted to finally have a chance to asses Stiles' intelligence in person without any intermediaries.

Except apart from an admittedly good self-preservation instinct, he doesn't get to find out much because Derek intervenes.

(He sighs inwardly. Always so dramatic, his nephew.)

He asks Scott's mother to a date, and the teen in question just gapes uselessly. Stiles crashes his jeep on Peter's car to stop them from having said date. He nearly laughs delightedly right there.

"Do you want the bite, Stiles?" Peter asks instead of simply taking it and the teen says no. He's lying, he can tell, but Peter leaves anyway. He has more than enough time to convince him later.

(He doesn't.)

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

---

(Peter kinda hopes that the afterlife is a thing so that she's watching.)

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

He could have certainly chosen to come back at a better time... if the damn ritual hadn't had a deadline, that is.

Well, no matter. Peter can use this to his advantage, actually, because Derek will need him in one way or another because of the situation and he won't be able to say no.

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

(Because no matter what, the one thing he won't do is beg.)

It works.

"Why would I want help from a total psycho?" Derek grunts after he scoffs, not even turning to look at Peter.

Life has never been better.

(That was sarcasm, if anyone was wondering.)

(Given his previous record, Peter is pretty sure he won't stay that low on the list for long, though.)

(What's wrong with you, Peter?)

Thank god it's over, Peter really needs that bed and cleaning this mess up is going to take a while.

"Is leaving him alive really wise?" he asks, because someone has to, because they don't know if this change is permanent.

Except for Stiles, who just purses his lips, and Chris Argent, who is as stony as ever, the rest turn to look at him horrified.

"What's wrong with you, Peter?" Derek hisses.

Peter smiles with all teeth.

(Ah, so it's going to be this way.)

---

And now the alpha pack is in town, isn't that wonderful?

Why was he so adamant on staying alive besides for being a contrary bastard?

(Peter has to remind himself a lot of the sweet sight of a destroyed Argent family these days.)

---

"What's wrong with you?" seethes Derek before throwing Peter into a wall and leaving.

Out of all the people that Peter could have been saddled with, he has been lucky, indeed.

"You know, I was a kid so I had an excuse, but what's your deal?"

"There's nothing wrong with you? What a load of bullshit." Peter can't breathe and he's insanely grateful that Stiles can't hear that. "There's something wrong in everyone, so who fucking cares?"

"Wha-"

"Not unless the wrong in you tries to have another go at my people, because then my wrong would come out to play, and everything would be wrong with that... for you, capiche?"

"Duly noted," Peter answers as dryly as he can, because his world feels off its axis right now.

Then, Stiles extends an arm, hand clearly possed for a handshake and Peter is reaching before he can think of it. When Stiles lets go, gummy bears have been left behind.

Peter can't help it. He laughs.

(And for the first time, he feels happy.)

What's wrong with you, Peter?

Who cares?

#prompts '16 #lostwithoutmyanchor #my fanfiction #teen wolf #steter

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specialagentfluffstein · 7 years

Note

good morning cute and sort of mysterious lady. ALL THE QUESTIONS PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

Good afternoon enthused and sort of mysterious new friend! Here all the questions.

1. Do youbite or lick ice cream? Neither. I use a spoon because ice cream is so damn messy.

2. What ishome to you? Wherever my record player is.

3. What wasthe last lie you told? That I definitely had a great time at someone’s birthday party.

4. Doeseveryone deserve the truth? In the end, yes.

5. What isthe creepiest toy ever made? Kewpie dolls.

6. Describea moment in which you did something unacceptable in a bad situation. Encouraged an officer to let me stay late and help with a holdover shift, even though explorers are supposed to get dumped off after twelve hours.

7. List twothings that are more easily done than said. (No, I didn’t mix them up.) Opening the door to the backlot outbuilding garage and unlocking the Bearcat G3; Running an ID card over tac two on a felony stop with multiple subjects.

8. When wasthe last time you worked really hard to achieve something? Getting to the place where I could graduate a semester early.

9. How manyall nighters have you pulled? I’ve seen my share of Graves.

10. Ifhumans didn’t evolve to laugh or smile, how would we express our happinessinstead? Probably through other verbal indications and physical expressions.

11. How manyromantic “things” or “flings” have you had? Enough to know what I’m not looking for.

12. What isyour paradise? unlimited access to media - e.g. music, movies, tv, books, etc. and a comfy place to listen/watch/read

13. What isyour favorite background noise? (Ex. Water dripping, people talking.) Fancy restaurants or reruns of television shows.

14. How manyhearts do you think you have broken? Probably quite a few. At least four in the past two years.

15. What isthe most important thing about electronics? What does this say about you? That they can handle multiple things at once. It says that I am a multitasker.

16. Why dopeople care about celebrities? Do you care about celebrities? Because sometimes it’s nice to escape to a world where the only real problems are botched nose jobs and whether or not someone should have worn something. I care in that I’ve got my favorite celeb crushes (Hi, Alexander Skarsgard!)

17. What isthe most annoying thing someone can do to you? Act like they know what they’re doing when they obviously don’t. Also act like I can’t do something because I’m a girl.

18. Do youoverexaggerate? What are the pros and cons of this? not really. I tend to encounter so much weirdness that I don’t have to. Pros: I’m a good story teller. Cons: people sometimes think I am exaggerating.

19. Have youplayed any instruments before? Which instruments? I can play three elvis songs on the piano.

20. Do youlike taking selfies? Why or why not? Yup! Because I’m self centered as hell.

21. List 3things you like about yourself? 1. Great hair; 2. Smart; 3. Loud.

22. What isthe best advice someone has ever given you? “If the worst thing that happens today is that you mess up on the radio, it’s been a good day.”

23. Do youhave what it takes to raise a child? Why or why not? Yeah not a big fan of small children.

24. How doyou cheer yourself up after a bad day? Television.

25. When wasthe last time you felt awkward? Truly awkward? I somehow ended up sitting in on a male officers yearly physical exam results last year, because no one thought to leave the female explorer in the waiting room or make her wait in the hall. Homeboy was in prime health though.

26. Are youintroverted or extroverted? Or a mixture of both? definitely an extrovert.

27. Whatconstitutes a good friend? Being invested, but not clingy.

28. Wouldyou rather have a lot of friends to hang out with or just one best friend? Depends. I have a super ultra best friend, but I also will talk to anything that moves, so I generally need to be around people.

29. In aregular day, what do you not want to hear? “How will the detectives/officers/males in general be able to get any work done with you looking so cute?”

30. What isyour dream job? FBI SWAT Medic or Television critic

31. Is itbetter to be lazy but smart or hardworking but unintelligent? The former.

32. What isa truth about yourself that others find hard to believe? I graduated high school at sixteen and I’ll have my bachelor’s at twenty.

33. Whathave you always wondered about the other gender? Does the penis bounce around when you run/go up stairs/move in general like breasts do?

34. Whichfantasy world would you like to visit the most? Does Bludhaven count? Because I’m totally down to be a cop with Dick Grayson.

35. Describethe worst friend you have ever befriended. I tend to inadvertently pick up cling-ons, so I spend a lot of time trying to look like I really have to be somewhere on campus whenever I see someone who thinks we’re besties.

36. Imaginethat you have switched bodies with someone you don’t know. You can’t switchback. What do you do? Are you sure I can’t switch back? Because I think I might be hunting down shadowman and making him change me back.

37. If youfound the recipe for immortality, would you sell it or would you burn it? Is keep it for my own personal gain an option? Can I develop it into a serum of sorts to deal with life-threatening illnesses and injuries?

38. What isthe most important, applicable class you have ever taken? Statistics in high school and First Responder. I am so good at calling 911.

39. Name thelast book you read. One Bullet Away by Nathaniel Fick.

40. Imaginethat you are unable to express emotion. How would this affect your world? Ha! Jokes on you I’m already an ice queen with no feelings!

41. When wasthe last time you made the first move? Last spring, on the hot Marine in my advanced nonfiction class. Got his number and everything.

42. What isyour opinion on electronic music such as dubstep or trap? I like Deee-Lite, does that count?

43. What wasthe last movie you watched? Blue Ridge Fall. Chris Isaak is great.

44. Do youlike and appreciate your life? I do.

45. Do youlike and appreciate yourself? I do.

46. When wasthe last time you cried? ???? Good question.

47. What areyou scared of? Not a huge fan of fire.

48. What isthe most embarrassing, cringe-worthy thing you have ever done? same story as last time.

49. What aresome of your hobbies? I knit! I’m working on a shawl right now.

50. What isa superficial yet annoying mistake you constantly make? Confusing the boxes on J4 (paperwork) because I’m not paying attention.

51. Are youa good friend? What makes you a good friend? If not, what makes you a badfriend? I think I’m a good friend. I’m pretty loyal once I think you’ve earned it.

52. Do youhonestly learn from your mistakes? Yes. At least I try.

53. Whathave you learned the hard way? The running boards/ any protruding edge on SWAT trucks are not fun to collide with.

54. What isthe most important thing to have in order to attain happiness? A Happy outlook.

55. Whichmedium do you use for expressing your artistic emotions? (Singing, writing,etc.) I write, and I like to sing in my car, and I knit.

56. Are youa creative or a logical thinker? I’m logically creative.

57. What isthe smartest thing you have ever done? Bought a unique antenna ball. I always know which white four door sedan is mine.

58. What isyour ideal meal? Sushi. or any meal shared with people who make me laugh.

59. What isthe worst thing someone could do on a date? Say “I hate cops” and/or hold me vaguely hostage for ten hours.

60. Do youlike animals? Which kind is your favorite? Can I say Porgs? Does that count? I also like doggos.

61. If youcould turn one legal thing illegal, what would it be? Riding your bike on the sidewalks around campus.

62. Do youhave any guilty pleasures? Bad television.

63. What isthe best thing that the internet has ever created? Dog videos. And the ability to look things up in seconds.

64. Do youlike playing video games? Which video games? Uhhhh I still play the nintendo ds lego games. I like the batman one.

65. What isyour opinion on beauty in today’s society? It’s so unique! Like there are so many ways to be beautiful even on just a superficial level.

66. Are youa morning person? When do you usually wake up? Yes! I try to be up and moving by 8am.

67. Do youhave a favorite Disney movie? Character? either Sleeping Beauty or The Princess and the Frog. I love love love Judy Hopps from Zootopia and I’m quite partial to Prince Phillip.

68. Wouldyou rather live in the city or in the countryside? 110% City Girl.

69. Wouldyou rather live near the ocean or in the mountains? Ocean.

70. What arethe best things about winter? Sweaters and cocoa and fluffy things.

71. Whatscares you most about the future? That I don’t know who will be there with me.

72. Whatmakes you feel old? Being around fourteen-year-old explorers.

73. How manyhours do you spend on the computer or phone on average? five? more if I have a lot of homework?

74. What aresome of your New Year’s resolutions? I don’t resolutions so much as goals. I’ve met most of them.

75. What isyour life story in 6 words? Why is this happening to me?

76. Describeyourself in one word. Loud

77. What badhabits do you do? Obsessive gum chewer.

78. Whatgenre of music do you listen to? A wide range of stuff. I’m really into Opera and Choral right now, but I’ve also listened to “Southern Nights” and “American Girl” on repeat today.

79. Mostprominent childhood memory? Sunday Dinners with my family.

80. Imagineif you had an older brother. If you already have one, what is it like? If youdon’t, how would this change your life? I wouldn’t be the oldest, which means I couldn’t pull the oldest child card.

81. Spiritanimal? Grizzly Bear

82. Do youbelieve in horoscopes? Sometimes.

83. What isthe worst advice you’ve ever been given? any variation on “let things come to you”

84. List the3 most important people in your life right now. Sister, Mom, BFFL.

85. Favoritememory of your family. The last time my uncle came and visited.

86. What doyou look for in a relationship? Being treated with respect. Also a uniform (especially a USMC one) doesn’t hurt, but it’s not a deal breaker.

87. Do youhave a role model? Why or why not? Yeah! But it’s more like I like the way people act or do things and I adopt those traits and things.

88. What isyour opinion on social media? A good way to fuel the mild narcissism I try to keep quiet. Also good for amateur detective work.

89. Are youa pessimist or an optimist? Aggressively optimistic.

90. Listsome things that you think are overpriced? FEMALE TACTICAL ANYTHING.

91. What isyour worst memory or creepiest experience? Sixteenth Birthday.

92. Whatsuperpower would ruin the world? Invisibility.

93. What issomething you swore you would never do when you grew up, but you did anyway? Go to college in my hometown.

94. Whatlessons have you learned from movies and which movies were they? You can be both a princess and a total badass (Star Wars); It doesn’t matter where you came from, you can be a hero/achieve your dreams/make things better (Pretty much all of the Disney movies). Ohana isn’t necessarily the people you’re related to (Lilo and Stitch).

95. If youcould travel anywhere, where would you go? Right now? Disneyland Paris.

96. How doyou approach people? Confidently.

97. What isyour opinion on first impressions? Usually pretty accurate, barring some wild exigent circumstances.

98. What aresome things you did as a child that you no longer do? Wear frosted lip gloss.

99. Whatlanguages can you speak? English, Spanish, Regional Law Enforcement, and I’ve got a basic understanding of Old English.

100. What doyou think society will be like in 30 years? Better.

101. What doyou do on your lazy days? Watch TV.

102. Whatended your last relationship? A move to Colorado.

103.Favorite food? Sushi. and Pizza.

104. What isthe most terrifying dream you’ve ever had? I dreamed I was living on a house boat and I was pregnant. I woke up terrified and thinking ‘How am I going to be a cop if I’m pregnant?!’

105. Whenwas the last time you got seriously angry? Anytime my co-lieutenant does anything.

106. Whatwas the last friendship you broke? I’m not really sure. I try not to burn bridges.

107. Do youhave any pet peeves? Wrinkled clothes and mismatched socks.

108. Who wasthe last person you gave a hug to? My sister?

109. Whenwas the last time you got seriously stressed? Trying to finish a profile for my nonfiction class last month.

110. Whatpart of your personality do you want to change? I can be a little cold.

111. Who isthe most positively influential person in your life right now? One of the detectives I work with.

112. What isyour biggest motivation? Fear of failure.

113. Whatdid you want to be when you were little? A Triple Threat.

114. Whatare some things that you are good at? Knitting, being the cutest explorer, making breakfast foods, basic makeup.

115. What isone thing you want to be good at? winged eyeliner.

116. Whatdistracts you the most, especially when you’re trying to work? My sister. In the best way, though, She’s always sending me silly memes or dog pics.

117. Howimportant is privacy to you? Really important.

118. If youcould create one social norm, what would it be? Disney music being acceptable on the radio.

119. What’sthe craziest lie you’ve ever told? I once convinced a boy scout troop that I was British.

120. Whatstory do you like to tell about yourself at parties? I like telling the story about the time a guy shoved meth up his butt in the back of the squad car I was riding in on a ride along. It’s a crowd pleaser for sure.

121. What isthe lamest thing that you have seen someone do? Tell a class that he enjoyed going to the gym as his icebreaker fun fact.

122. What isthe stupidest thing you’ve done to impress someone? Gave him a bunch of Junior Officer stickers. (it worked, though)

123. What isyour morning routine? Tumble out of bed, stumble to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition.

124. What’sthe last thing you did that is worth remembering? I bought some professional clothes beyond just a white button up and black pencil skirt.

125. Ifkarma was coming back to you, would it help or hurt you? I think it would help.

126. What isyour opinion on playing “hard to get?” You should probably just be straight with people.

127. Whatare the pros and cons of straightforward? Pros: no bullshit! Cons: People think you are “scary” or “brash.”

128. What doyou consider “leading” someone on? Lying about your intentions.

129. Are youthe friendzoner or the friendzoned? I’ve been both.

130. What doyou admire most about your friends? They are so kind.

131. What doyou admire most about your family? We are a resourceful and resilient bunch.

132. What isyour opinion on “going with the flow?” Something I have to work on.

133. Do youenjoy talking or listening? Both.

134. When isit time to end a friendship? When it’s unhealthy for either party.

135. What isthe worst excuse you’ve ever come up with? “My mom won’t let me give my phone number out” I was fifteen.

136. If GPAdidn’t matter, what courses would you have taken? More science and physics classes. And theatre. And art. And writing classes.

137. Whatare your favorite baby names? my current favorite baby is named Finley…

138. Whenwas the last time you had a deep conversation with someone? I talked with a detective about some of my ambitions.

139. Whatinstantly ruins a conversation? Felony Tones (ha) and ignorance.

140. Biggestturn ons and turn on offs. On - Nice smiles; Off - “You’re too pretty to be a cop”

141. Biggestdisappointment - Not making Captain.

142. Do youhave any self-restraint? Yes, unless it is with puppies and then no.

143. Whendid you last do something outside of your comfort zone? I did something with the permission of one advisor and his supervisor that was in direct opposition to what my main advisor wanted. It worked out in my favor though.

144. Prizedpossession(s)? Four gold medals from competing in SkillsUSA in high school, some photo boxes, my record collection, my playing card collection.

145. What isyour opinion on second chances? Okay when they are truly deserved.

146. Text orcall? Text. Or call. Whatever. I’ll likely ignore you either way.

147. What doyou like about the 21st century? I am not socially obligated to wear a skirt if I don’t want to.

148. Whatadvice would you give to yourself 5 years ago? It’s okay to change your mind. Do what’s going to make you happy. Kiss that boy.

149. Howorganized are you? Pretty organized, when I have time to sit and organize.

150.Favorite mode of transportation. Bearcat G3.

Thanks for being nosy!

#fluffy answers

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