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bellamygateoldblog · 4 years

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best and worst relationships?

There’s a lot of varables to consider here, and I’m feeling sick and bored out of my mind, so i’m going the long way round. This is a nightmare to read on mobile, im so sorry.

‘Best’ and ‘Worst’ labels depend on a number of things:

— Story of the pairing

— General intrigue and how enjoyable their dynamic is to watch

— Chemistry of the two (or more) characters

— Presence (or lack of) valuable relationship qualities (is this relationship healthy according to the world it exists in?)

and the importance of each of those differs from person-to-person.

Note: Sticking to popular relationships. I’ve blocked names, but I’m also throwing it under a Read More because it’s long and negative. It’s largely anticlarke because she’s a terrifying character and her mere existence derails most of her dynamics. Ship and like whatever you like, I hate fandom gatekeeping. But you asked so let’s go.

There’s also no order to this. Welcome to chaos land.

Best ‘Best’ List: objectively good relationships

— Linctavia

— Marper

— Spacekru

— David and Nate Miller

— Raven and Sinclair

Unconditional love, mutual respect and support, found family, would die (and live) for the other. I can’t find fault in them.

Memori

I had a bit more to say about this one because there’s something so highly romantic in two people abandoned by their clan, cast out, finding each other in a literal desert wasteland. Like they’re each other’s oasis. In meeting Emori, Murphy finally found acceptance after spending far too long alone, and being told he was worthless by people who’s approval meant something. And Emori having someone prepared to do whatever it takes to protect her and make her happy is everything I could’ve wanted for her. They’re so deeply in love.

Best List

Becho (pre-season six)

Your local enemies-to-lovers. partnership over co-dependency. Compromise. Affection and emotional support from both sides. Willing to throw themselves right into line-of-fire for the other. A cut ‘i love her’ scene which i’ve personally decided wasn’t cut. I LOVE THEM.

Arguments against:

- ‘killed’ Gina (moreso she aided her death) while acting on orders from her superiors

- ‘killed’ Octavia while acting on orders from her superiors

- killed Ilian/ attempted to help Roan win conclave over Octavia

- almost killed Clarke (season five)

- happened offscreen

Arguments to discredit previous arguments because I’m sick and tired of seeing them in the pro tags:

- Echo was Bellamy’s enemy through those first three listed events. Bellamy had no reason to expect loyalty or respect, or anything else from her. She was always looking out for her people just as Bellamy was his own. That was quite clear.

- In fact she actually tried to help Gina because she was important to Bellamy, apologised that she couldn’t and did save Bellamy’s life despite their enemy status.

- ‘killing’ Octavia was not in cold blood. It was actually an accident.

- This one is nonsense. She wanted to kill Clarke during season five “even though she’s important to Bellamy”…after she just left him to brutally die and held Echo and her family at gunpoint and threatened to kill them. Context matters.

- not a fan of the time jump either, but if you’re able to accept the Madi-Clarke relationship which also developed offscreen, you can deal with this one.

Hard to talk about this one without defending it. Echo deserves better than season six Bellamy, who would abandon her in order to chase a woman he knew for 6-ish months 6 years ago. I say it’s his loss.

Jonty

It was a beautiful relationship and then a beautiful breakdown of one. I really enjoyed their dynamic. About to get controversial and suggest Monty could’ve taken a different approach with Jasper. I’ve never committed genocide and had to learn to live with it while watching my best friend suffer from the decision, but I do have clinical depression and somewhat relate to Jasper. There was this scene, where in the background you see Jasper go to hug Monty goodbye and he avoids it. It was such a small but sad detail. I felt Monty wanted Jasper to deal with his grief in a certain way and got frustrated when he didn’t. Sometimes he could be insensitive and blaming, and i think had there been more communication their friendship could’ve been very healing for the both of them. I think we learn at one point Jasper actually thought Monty was “fine” and didn’t even realise or understand that Monty hurt too. Jasper had this tendancy to only consider his own feelings, and this put a rift between them. Tough love doesn’t work for everyone, and I think Monty’s sometimes cold approach held that rift in place. The simple fact that both sides are so easy to understand and empathise with, and that this gradual undoing of what was once an incredibly strong bond was inevitable, made watching it all wonderfully bittersweet.

Zaven

This was good, but it was so rushed it made me bitter towards them. While it was Raven being thrown with yet another random guy, this did strike me as much more meaningful than her fling with Wick and I think it would’ve been a lovely relationship had it been able to continue. I think this was that love Raven deserved. It’s a damn shame it was used as just another level of torture for her. I think if they had let it develop more naturally and not been so full-on so soon, and of course if the actor hadn’t opted to leave the show, this would’ve been up on my best ‘best’ list.

Dropping this here: being intelligent isn’t actually important when pairing Raven up. Fandom acts like she needs someone “on her level” or “at her speed” (shudders), someone to challenge her, which has always come across as very demeaning of characters with less intellectual capacity, as if they’re less than Raven because of this when they are absolutely not. This mentality also denies Raven of partners that can value her and treat her well just because they aren’t Stephan Hawking. A romance isn’t a competition or a class project. Shaw was good for her, not because of what his brain could do, but because of who he was.

Bellamy and Octavia

This bitch toxic, YEET. I adore it. I really do. It’s such an intriuging and complex dynamic. The poisonous nature of their relationship is neither of their own faults, they’re both a victim of their own circumstances and, in Octavia’s case, a lack of socialisation and, by extension, non-understanding of grey area is also intrinsicaly linked to it. They truely love one another, but aren’t learned in how to show this in healthy ways. Makes that back-and-forth an entertaining watch.

Main grievance:

Beating your brother bloody while he’s chained down and unable to defend himself against you is disturbing and inexcusable in any context, and whether or not you’re grieving is irrelevant.

Neutral List

C//exa

Placing this one here just because i don’t care about this relationship, but did like bits and pieces. I think this one ended before it even started. For me most of it’s appeal is in the gradual moulding of the dynamic and the many phases it went through. I did find intrigue in that journey. However the fact the show reminds me at least a few times a season that Lexa was the one has me digging my heels in. I hate being told what to think.

I don’t really remember it all that well so I don’t necessarily have strong opinions. I know some people do. At this point in the show I was growing more and more annoyed with Clarke, and eventually i went from liking Lexa to being indifferent to her, so a dynamic consisting of them both was the least interesting thing in the world to me by the time it started heating up.

I will say this is probably one of the only significant relationships Clarke has where she doesn’t ultimately have more power than the other half. There isn’t a mechanism there that allows one to use to do harm to the other to advantage themselves; Lexa is the commander, but Clarke is constantly pushing back and Lexa respects and listens to what she has to say. There is literally a shot of Clarke backing the most powerful person on the ground into a table. I think Clarke was a positive influence on Lexa, but during this time Clarke was slipping into worse and worse versions of herself.

Some thoughts:

I found it was innappropriate for Clarke, as a leader of her people who’s primary concern is supposed to be what’s best for them, to have become romantically involved with the commander of the people they hadn’t a stable relationship with, and who ultimately has the power to strip them of all freedoms. It’s so easy for those romantically and sexually charged feelings to cloud and confuse what are extremely important considerations to be made about the people back home. It wasn’t a very responsible relationship.

On the flipside of that, from this relationship Lexa was convinced to grow into peace. Which is quite obviously a positive affect. Though I found it was odd that Clarke, just a random teenage girl from space, would be (successfully) telling the commander how to manage her people when she herself was not at home overseeing the climate of her own. It just has some very weird implications.

Lexa’s betrayal at mount weather, actually a very silly and counter-productive decision, was what forced Clarke to lose her humanity in what was the most traumatic event of her entire life. The fact it was forgiven so easily was hard for me to get over.

M//rphamy

Season five was good for them. It seemed as if they’d grown, were much closer, more respectful, and more affectionate. Then season six happened, and Bellamy was back to treating Murphy like he was beneath everyone. He started again to talk about how therapeutic it would be to hurt him, as he has, physically, many times in the past. Just tearing open old wounds at this point. In season five he reminded Murphy he wasn’t worthless, that he did belong with the group, but in season six he went back on all that, and put Clarke ahead of him at every turn, and prioritied her feelings over his very real pain. They’ve had a complicated history of violence, usually coming from Bellamy’s more hot-headed side.

I put this here because it’s an immensely compelling dynamic. These characters work well together, there’s heaps of chemistry and allure in each of their interactions. It’s just an entertaining time whenever they share scenes. But despite that, I don’t know where I stand with them and I don’t know where they stand with each other as of season six.

Worst List

Be//arke

There is a mess of negative thoughts inspired by this relationship about proportionate to the amount it’s shoved in my face. Clarke is just no good for Bellamy. Is the concise way of putting it.

Here’s a list of some of them which I usually like to bury deep inside my head for sanity purposes:

Ignoring whether or not actions were for the people/the only option and focusing solely on how the relationship is affected by them regardless

- Clarke has a tendancy to view the most important person (pre-season five) in Bellamy’s life as necessary collateral damage. She has brought/almost brought harm to Octavia on multiple occasions, the two most notable being TonDC and the conclave. Both while being on the same side as Bellamy from a political standpoint, and both while his friend who he had reason to expect affirmation, consideration, and loyalty from. Clarke betrays those key values. This happens again in season five when Clarke’s Plan-A solution is to “take her out.”

( this is also what sets her apart from Echo, who was never in the position to make her own choices. Clarke has that agency and control that Echo’s superiors had, but never Echo. )

- and saying that, I think it’s incredibly hard for Clarke to maintain any meaningful relationships being in the position she’s in. How do you have friends when you have to always put them second?

- speaking of the conclave, Clarke held Bellamy at gunpoint in order to prevent him saving his sister’s life. She said she “didn’t pull the trigger” and that was that. All is forgiven. However she did pull the trigger in what was an attempt to scare him into submission so I really don’t even know what to say here. The writers kinda forgot?

- they aren’t equal. They haven’t been co-leaders since season one. He was demoted almost immediately to second-in-command beneath Clarke. Clarke is the leader, the literal head. She makes the choices while Bellamy gets her out of the trouble she usually gets herself into, risking himself and others in the process. It’s a racist trope. It’s the ‘white princess and her brown knight.’ She has agency and power and he’s her loyal soldier, subordinate. Inequality isn’t inherently a bad thing but this power imbalance between them is utilised in harmful ways.

- speaking of “the good knight by his queen’s side,” this comes across as codependency. Clarke relies on Bellamy’s support, validation and loyalty, while ‘the heart needs the head to tell it to beat.’ That’s paraphrased from season six, that’s an actual line in the show. Bellamy needs her to guide him, to “keep [him] centred,” that’s another line from the show. That’s still not enough? He literally tells us in season six that he needs her, and has needed her in the past if his psychosis episode is anything to go by. He has impeccably low self esteem and views himself less than. I mean if you need further convincing of they’re inequality, just look to their places on the ark which are quickly reinstated once it reaches the ground. Clarke is upper class, she’s later the daughter of the chancellor, she comes from a loving family, from one of (if not, the) more well-off stations, she’s educated and she has passions, but Bellamy? From the poorest ark station, raised by an emotionally abusive mother, a janitor, his whole motivation his entire life has been to love and protect Octavia. I think a lot of this devotion he has for her comes from a place of idolisation, of seeing something in her he wants for himself.

- now this ugly trope could also come from an absense of Octavia. The moment they get to the ground Octavia is on a journey of self-discovery. And eventually, she becomes her own protector, and she finds a home in Lincoln. So naturally Bellamy looks for the closest relationship he can find that resembles that old one. It’s Bellamy and Clarke. Now, instead of Octavia, he’s driven by and found purpose in protecting Clarke. In fact, the Clarke-Bellamy dynamic has so many similarities to the Octavia-Bellamy one I can absolutely see the sibling like quality to Be//arke.

- Clarke abandons Bellamy after mount weather. She leaves because she can’t bare the reminder of “what [she] did to get them here.” So she leaves and instead Bellamy is the one forced to see the faces of the 48 every day, reminding him of what he did to get them there. Clarke comes across as completely oblivious in this entire situation. Bellamy and Monty are both written using the word “we” to refer to the mount weather genocide, but Clarke? It’s “I” and “me” every time. It’s as if she truely believes she’s the only one suffering from it, she’s bearing it so they don’t have to, except that isn’t true at all and that fact is so painfully clear. Later she tells him she knew she could leave because the people had him, but who did Bellamy have? He dealt with that weight and that grief alone because the only other person who could possibly understand, the one who pulled the lever with him, ran away. After she had convinced him not to in season one. She then comes back informing him she’d been acting on behalf of her people in Polis, without the people’s own knowledge or consent, but i digress, and he’d just ruined everything. So much for co-leaders. And he blows up at her, and we see how badly this action hurt him.

- In season five she leaves him to die out of spite and took her daughter to the people he saved her from at the beginning of the season. It could’ve been avoided, but she decided to punish him. That’s all it was. Don’t give me none of that “I had to!!!” she screams in season six to mindspace!Octavia. Bellamy was forced into role of father at just 6 years old and has proved time and time again he was prepared to risk it all in order to protect his child, there was nobody more equipped to handle Madi than him and her yelling in his face that he couldn’t understand was perhaps the biggest betrayal of them all.

- In season five she tortured and almost murdered his entire family. After switching sides again at the end of the season, all this pain inflicted was meaningless. You can talk all you want at me about Clarke’s *reasons* but all she did was take the path of most destruction towards the same end-point. It was just unnecessary violence caused because she had this desperation to take the wheel.

- all of this works because the writing is always in Clarke’s favour. The show is framed in a way that makes Clarke sympathetic, emphasises how much causing others pain hurts her, and that means that she’s never held to any of these actions, she might get a stern talking to but she’s forgiven insanely easily and allowed to go on with no actual change.

Pr//ncess M//chanic

Unfortunately, from what i’ve gathered, there’s a lot of racism in this one just as there is in Be//arke. I mean the entire nature of the relationship relies on the elevation of Clarke and the narrative power to demote Raven to ‘second best’ and prop over and over again. Raven, a girl who works her ass off to make most of the victories in the show possible, actually spoke the words “she saved us again” after launching a pod from an exploding planet into space and fixing the ark while space walking. It’s mindblowing. Raven’s (and others’) successes are handed to Clarke on a silver platter and we’re just meant to eat that up and blindly accept that Clarke is our one true saviour. I’m not going into this because it makes me feel sick and Raven deserved better.

Unrelated thoughts:

I don’t see their relationship as friendly at all post-season two. I got the impression Raven actually didn’t like Clarke, but it was all very complicated.

I also think it’s terribly convinient Raven never found out the true nature of Clarke’s relationship with Lexa because I don’t believe she would’ve ever been okay about Clarke again if she had (if the writers were going for realistic).

Madi/Clarke/Abby

Clarke strapped a torture device around her daughter’s neck for means of control and activated it under the guise of protection and that isn’t okay in any world or any context. Madi is a little girl who is dependant on Clarke and Clarke betrayed that trust. Those shock collars were used on her early in the season, she experienced the torture herself and still used it on her child. A lot of Clarke’s more unfavourable and/or unhealthy behaviours and characteristic are also present in Abby, which leads me to believe those are a product of her upbringing. Like mother like daughter, Abby also electrocuted Raven. Abby and Clarke have this strange rival-like relationship and I find it particularly cold, maybe because they’re so similar.

Abby and Raven

Abby has physically harmed Raven more than once. Out of anger and spite, or out of desperation. People hurting each other on this show is pretty standard and while this isn’t as overwhelming a mistreatment compared to others, her hitting Raven while she was acting chancellor was a pretty gross abuse of power. Its a visual display, with Abby’s imposing figure looming over a sitting and emotionally vulnerable Raven. We’re supposed to view this, i think, as mother-daughter. Abby says very early season one that Raven reminds her of Clarke, but she’s never shown treating Clarke in the way she does Raven. I liked the relationship during season one. From then and with Abby’s slow descent into villainy, not so much.

Ontari and Murphy

*She raped him. Next.

Cl//phy

Clarke is a cause/reason, whether direct or indirect, of a huge chunk of Murphy’s suffering, all of which she’s never been held accountable for due to Murphy’s position as undesirable. I, along with Murphy, had to be told she cares about him in season six because her otherwise complete disregard for his life has been pretty apparent.

Notable mention:

Chaining up him and Emori like dogs and promising to sacrifice the woman he loves, against her will, for the greater good after he saved her life. He has to beg her, plead with her and her almighty god complex, and it’s all quite uncomfortable and eery. (She later draws a picture of this event in her sketchbook which is…kinda weird.) And, in true Clarke fashion, she refuses to accept responsibility for this action and hides behind the same old trend of gaslighting and screaming “i had to!!!” I can’t root for a friendship between these two no matter how fun their back-and-forth can be. Especially since I can’t recall a single time they’ve shared a nice moment. Oh, and here’s a post about why Clarke and Murphy will never bond over isolation and survival.

*The clashing of Ontari and Murphy’s personalities was hilarious and I enjoyed watching them on screen together.

#the 100 #anticlarke #antibellarke #anti princess mechanic #anti bellarke #finally free of this question #the100meta #tw; child abuse #tw; rape #ro.answers

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gallantgautier · 5 years

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Ooc, what are Sylvains most positive traits and strengths?

ooc: I’m so sorry this took me forever to answer, I got distracted. And when the mun gets distracted they forget about things sitting in their inbox. But considering the sheer amount of Sylvain angst I’ve been writing, both in threads and in meta, I feel now is a good time to get into this. Under a cut that I stealth edited in because this got long.

Strangely, this topic is actually a little harder to talk about than his flaws, and it probably has a lot to do with the fact that those flaws are so deeply intertwined with the positive aspects of his character that, as far as examination goes, they get overshadowed by the act of actually unravelling his personality to get to them, it’s what makes Sylvain such an interesting character, really.

That, and I think one of Sylvain’s biggest strengths of character is that, despite it all, despite his disillusions, insecurity, bitterness and inner conflict, he doesn’t let it completely consume him.

Let’s briefly touch on a big aspect of Sylvain Meta I have been focusing on a lot lately, both in previous character examinations and in my head because damn if the bug hasn’t bitten me hard. I won’t get too much into it, there’s a whole lot over here if you’re interested, but it focuses on the negative and that’s not what we’re doing today.

Miklan.

All that stuff considered; it would be so easy for Sylvain to hate Miklan. (He says he does. He doesn’t.) It would be so easy for him to hate the world, and I suppose he does in a way. He hates the world that’s put so much stock into Crests and those who bare them. In general, it would be so easy for Sylvain to hate everything and lash out.

Yet he doesn’t.

Now, an argument can be made that he lashes in, and he does, in a big way. It results in his interactions with people – mainly women – being fake. It results in his lack of trust in people in general, evidenced in that, if we don’t include Byleth seeing as they can reach S rank in all their supports across avatar gender choice, Sylvain only has four supports that go higher than B. Only two of those go to A+, and they’re both with people he’s known all his life.

And yet, Sylvain is very genuine in his friendships. Sure, there’s a colouring of playing around, and while he may not fully trust other people in his life he calls friends and may never let them see the person underneath, he cares and it shows.

I present to you exhibit A; his support with Bernadetta.

Now, this is a subject we’re probably all close to, receiving praise for your writing is forever going to be awkward, but we can see in this conversation that he isn’t just saying “Yeah! This is really good!” Sylvain makes a point of highlighting the details he enjoyed, and more importantly, why he enjoyed them. He also states in his letter that he hopes he inspires Berie to write more, and when we consider how little Sylvain thinks of himself, it’s hard to imagine that he’d think of his opinions as ‘inspirational.’ We can conclude, then, that Sylvain is sharing his thoughts not because he thinks anyone would be interested in hearing them, rather that he thinks having them heard will help.

Let’s move on to his second positive trait. He’s very insightful.

Now, we all know he’s smart, way smarter than he’d like to let anyone think. We see this easily in his supports with Annette, not just how easily he understands the text she’s studying, but also his recognition that the formula is over-complicated. It’s proof that he really does understand the subject and hasn’t just memorised it.

But that’s a display of his intelligence, not insightfulness, that comes later in the support with “Guys like me who hate hard work and sorta get by on our wits? It all falls apart eventually.” Now, I suppose this is a somewhat weak example, as it’s more self-awareness than insight, still, I do think it’s a bit of both, to know that he can’t just get by on luck forever.

Still on this topic, but in radically different context, I’d like to point your attention to Sylvain’s support conversation with Dedue, where he comes to the conclusion that the people of Duscur are innocent. Now, Three Houses intentionally halts certain supports from progressing if they contain story spoilers or if they require certain events to have occurred before them, either because the support itself references those events, or so that the player has context to understand the gravity of what happens in the support.

As such, this statement from Sylvain can happen incredibly early in the game, and potentially is one of the first occasions where a student alludes to a third party pulling some strings. Now, Sylvain doesn’t go that far in his conclusion, doesn’t even have a conclusion, really. But the fact that he even questions it, that he’s looked at the evidence and found that something doesn’t add up, speaks for an insight that, so far, I haven’t really found in the “supporting cast” for lack of a better term.

The final positive trait I want to bring up, one that he doesn’t attempt to hide because honestly he has no need to by virtue of the reasoning I’m about to get into; how important promises are to him, how lightly he doesn’t make them, and how he keeps every single one. He doesn’t hide this simply because it’s a rare occurrence that only happens around people he trusts.

I’ve trawled through Sylvain supports, the word “promise” comes up a grand total of 13 times across all 17 characters (that’s a total of 42 separate conversations.) You’d think for a guy who is personified as being a cheat would make a helluva lot of empty promises, wouldn’t you?

That number isn’t even accounting for the fact that half of the time in these supports, it isn’t even him saying the word.

Let’s discount one of these right off the bat. He says it, but it’s to Hilda, and half of it is a joke, where he tells her to “stop lying, take responsibility, and fall madly in love with him.” He asks her to promise him these things in exchange for forgiveness for taking a tongue lashing from the librarian that was meant for her. None of this is overly important to my point, save the fact that it’s the one time where the word doesn’t carry all that much weight, but it’s not an exception to the rule and still a reinforcement as he’s not the one making it.

Two other occasions I want to bring up next are his supports with Byleth and Mercedes. These aren’t like the previous where it doesn’t carry weight, quite the opposite, but he says the word only once for each. For the former it’s right at the end of his marriage proposal so… Kinda a “well duh” moment, doesn’t really require any analysis. The latter is also at the end of the final support conversation, and it comes in response to Mercedes asking if he will “protect her in turn.” Considering this is a support required for their paired ending, we can sort of take this as a marriage proposal too, but I place more emphasis on the fact that during this portion of the conversation, Sylvain has let his guard down around Mercedes, to the point where he actually cries. That’s pretty significant.

The remaining ten mentions of “promise” come in his supports with his three childhood friends.

Let’s look at Dimitri first, as he only has half of the number of conversations with everyone’s favourite philanderer that the other two do. The word comes up, across both conversations, four times, and only once by Sylvain himself, in which he promises to “do better” and focus more on his studies etc. The other three occasions come from Dimitri, first questioning whether Sylvain will keep to his word, the second is in the B support where he confirms that Sylvain actually did, and the last is Dimitri promising to help Sylvain out with “…something he knows how to help with.” (The last isn’t all that important really, save for keeping count.)

So that leaves the final six, considering we discounted one at the beginning, that’s half. And wouldn’t you know, as well as being part of the Original Childhood Friend Quartet, these two are the only people he can obtain an A+ rank support with. Coincidence? I think not.

Between Ingrid and Felix’s supports, Ingrid’s contain the majority with four, but unlike with Dimitri, it’s Sylvain saying it three out of those four times. However, this time we have the one occasion where he doesn’t completely stay true to his word. Like Dimitri’s support, his first promise to Ingrid is in regards to his behaviour, but, despite his own opinion on the matter, Ingrid expresses exasperation that he’s still playing around. However, it’s worth noting that this promise comes after Ingrid has chewed him out for events that happened a number of years ago, in public, and in a manner that by all accounts is pretty belittling. It’s probably the one occasion he’s made a promise out of frustration and to just end the conversation, evidenced by how he tacks “ Are you happy now?” on to the end. This, I think, is the exception to the rule, rather than the occasion with Hilda, but an exception I think proves the rule.

The second mention is from Ingrid asking Sylvain to stop acting so nonchalant about getting hurt or killed,” and the third is him making that promise right after. It’s never strictly mentioned if he actually does keep it, however, his following support with her involves scenes with him taking his training and combat situations seriously. I believe this is him making an attempt to minimise the possibility of getting hurt in the first place. It’s a roundabout way of keeping his promise, sure, but one that definitely works, dealing with the root cause rather than the surface issue, as it were.

The last comes with “It’s not a joke that you’re beautiful, but I wasn’t trying to hit on you or anything. Promise.” This one, at first glance, doesn’t seem much to read in to, and at face value, there really isn’t. I think this ties in more to the way Sylvain regards promises, and that (hopefully) Ingrid knows that aspect of him too. It’s an emphasis on him being genuine, that he truly means what he’s saying.

Lastly, we have Felix, arguably the most important one. I have a lot of headcannon surrounding this, we’re not going there today, we’re going to stick with what we know.

It’s only mentioned twice, both by Sylvain, and it’s a reference to the same promise, that they’ll “stick together, until they die together.” It’s worth noting that he brings it up specifically on the second mention, but on the first, it comes after Felix being concerned (angrily, because it’s Felix) that Sylvain actually will die, and Sylvain stating “Nah, I won’t die on you. I promise.”

At first, it’s a bit of a throwaway line, until later in the support he talks about The Promise, it paints the first line in a whole new light, that in reality Sylvain is saying “I’m not going to break my promise.” And if you get their paired ending in the Azure Moon route, he really doesn’t.

It’s also brought up outside their supports, if you recruit one and not the other, they talk about it pre-combat if you set them against each other. Please don’t do that. It’s rather poignant, I think, that game mechanics are the only way to get Sylvain to break a promise.

To summarise, Sylvain’s strengths of character manifest in how much he truly cares about people. How he can find the strength to lift his friends up despite the weight he puts on his own shoulders. How he might be crumbling but ultimately will not break. And just how dependable he is by virtue of how he won’t ever make a promise lightly, nor will he break one.

#Sylvain Jose Gautier #Meta #positive traits #character strengths #me: It's hard to talk about this because xyz reasons #also me: 2k of meta later #Anonymous

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kalinara · 5 years

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You know what I loved best about Shadowhunters?

It is the first time I’ve seen anyone tackle the idea of a deconstructive adaptation outside of fanfiction.

The Mortal Instruments novels were pretty popular as I recall. They sold well, built up a pretty passionate fanbase, and even got a movie that I never actually saw. I think I read maybe the first one, and it wasn’t really to my taste, but I didn’t think it was terrible. It just had a lot of the common flaws that I see in a lot of YA books.

And generally, when you get an adaptation, it doesn’t tend to touch on these problematic elements. Or if it does, it kind of sidles away from them. The Twilight movies, for example, show us a couple of POC as vampires, even though technically according to the books, all vampires get paler with age. But at the same time, neither movies nor books really address the inherent racist dynamic between the vampires and the werewolves. And so on.

Shadowhunters is different.

When I watch Shadowhunters as an adaptation, I get the sense that a lot of the people involved genuinely do love the Mortal Instruments as a series, but that they’re not willing to overlook the problematic elements. They want to explore them instead.

And they did. Starting with the Clave. Because, at least from what I recall, there’s not a whole lot TO the Clave in the books. I mean, it’s there. Sort of. But our main trio (Jace, Alec, and Izzy) seem to be primarily fighting demons on their own. They’re literally children. I think Alec is the oldest at what, seventeen? And while they’re meant to protect Downworlders and only kill demons, there’s a certain level of probably unconscious superiority. I mean obviously they don’t support Valentine, the villain who wants to genocide all the downworlders. But the elements are still there. Our heroes have angel blood, our heroes are special, and their authority is righteous.

I’m not trying to attack Ms. Clare with this, because I think this kind of thing is very very common in YA books in general. But I love what Shadowhunters did with this set up.

First, Shadowhunters did away with the idea of Jace, Alec, and Izzy as lone child soldiers against demons. The Clave exists, and it’s very visible. The Institute is bustling, filled with all sorts of background personnel. Something is always happening. Things are always being monitored. There are missions happening that our characters aren’t necessarily involved in. This does create a bit of narrative awkwardness in the first season, when the show tended to cleave more loyally to the books. (Alec’s role as de facto leader of the Institute early on in particular seems to wax and wane in terms of level of authority.). But it smooths itself out early on. And it makes more sense: fighting demons is pretty important. Not a matter to be left to three teenagers alone.

The show both ages up our characters, which makes certain romantic plots a lot less creepy, and actually addresses the idea that these people have been essentially soldiers from childhood, and that there is a LOT of institutionalized racism and superiority, along with militant duty, that gets drilled into these people from birth. We get to see the kind of environment that builds a Valentine, and how even generally rational adults like Luke and Jocelyn might have gotten caught up in his fanatic ideology. It takes the throwaway comments and superiority displayed by the protagonists in the book and extrapolates where that came from.

I remember reading somewhere that Ms. Clare was really unhappy with Alec’s actions early on in season one, when he was in support of Meliorn being taken to the City of Bones for interrogation (torture). And I can understand that. I’m sure Ms. Clare has a very clear idea in her mind about who Alexander Lightwood is. And her Alec Lightwood would never agree to take a man to be tortured.

But I think that, in terms of the show, it was important to show Alec like that. Because we needed to see exactly how ingrained this ideology actually is. Jace is the brooding rebel. Izzy is the bleeding heart half in love with Meliorn already. Alec is the responsible one, the dutiful one who shoulders the burdens. Which means, he’s the character most likely (at this point in the story) to swallow his conscience and misgivings and do what he thinks he’s supposed to do.

It’s an ugly moment, but it provides us with a focal point for his eventual growth. Alec’s multi-season plot, of overcoming both overt and unconscious personal racism, to tackling the problems of the Clave itself, is one of my favorite parts of the series. And it had to start somewhere.

One of the touches that initially made me uncomfortable, but now I rather like, is how most of the Shadowhunters are white, while most of the Downworlders are POC. There are exceptions on both sides (the Penhallows, Luke-pre-Werewolfing, Iris Rouse), but that’s the general gist. And at first, I thought this was a really bad thing. Until I realized that the show actually was making a point.

Because the racism against Downworlders is fantastic racism. And all too often, fantastic racism becomes an excuse to use real world narrative tropes meant for poc and apply them to white people. And look, I like X-Men as much as anyone, but this isn’t our story. (And there are very few things that annoy me more than when we see fantasy racism applied in ways that lead to POC being racist against white people: see the anti-alien senator during one season of Supergirl who just happened to be Latina.)

Even though it’s still a little uncomfortable that most of the people with “angel blood” are white and most of the people with “demon blood” are not, it does mean that we’re basically returning the focus of the fantastic racism back where it should be: on the POC victims.

Most of the Downworlders we see on the show are good people. They’re trying to live their lives the best they can. And the Clave uses the actions of a few bad apples (many of whom have some significant provocation!) to justify a draconian rule over all of them.

The parallels are hard to miss, and the show doesn’t actually try to miss them. I always think particularly of the episode in season 2, where the Clave starts to chip Downworlders in response to a serial killer targeting Shadowhunters. It’s heavy handed, sure, but it hits hard when Maia talks about real world racism and how the Shadowhunters are supposed to be better than that. It’s another episode where a main character is complicit in the institutional racism, and that gets called out too.

It’s not perfect, of course. And I think Jace, in particular, ends up getting off scott free for things that he really shouldn’t. (For example, kidnapping the werewolf girl and bringing her to Valentine makes him literally guilty of her murder under the law.) But it’s something.

Another improvement from the books is in Alec and Magnus’s relationship. For one thing, they’re a side couple in the books, given a handful of scenes here and there, but very much in the shadow of Clary and Jace’s drama. Their plots have some seriously uncomfortable elements: the age difference, the way Magnus presses Alec to come out, Alec’s paranoia over Magnus’s sexuality and past experience, Alec’s plotting with Camille to remove Magnus’s immortality. It’s a mess.

Now whether or not it’s a worse mess than Clary and Jace’s nonsense. You got me. But it wasn’t fun.

But even with the problems, Magnus and Alec meant something to a lot of fans. And I think the show really delivers on that front. Magnus and Alec go from being a side couple with a handful of scenes, to in many ways, being the pillar of the series. The age difference is less of an issue (I mean, Magnus is still many times Alec’s age, but Alec is actually an adult in this version). The biphobia is gone, and while Alec is occasionally intimidated by the difference in their experiences, it never turns into a critique of Magnus.

Their conflicts and obstacles are much more compelling. Alec’s initial coming out story was triumphant and the best part of season 1 to me. The fact that Magnus is a Downworlder, and Alec is a Shadowhunter, with all that entails isn’t forgotten. The romance, and Alec’s plot of overcoming his racism, are deeply intertwined. And Magnus isn’t a bit part in the story either. His plot, especially with regard to his self-identity and relationship to his magic, is just as important, if not more so, by the last season.

The weakest part of the series for me was when they were more faithful to the books, but I thought the show did a good job of refocusing later season events on Clary rather than Jace. One of the things that annoyed me about book and the early part of the series is that, as soon as we had Jace’s (not) parentage reveal, he seemed to end up with 90% of the focus in any of the family drama. Clary discovers her long lost father is a genocidal maniac, but Jace was raised by the man so it gets more focus. The dynamic between Jace and Jonathan had a lot more focus in the books too. Sometimes it seemed like the story forgot that Clary also had a family stake in more than just her mother. So I was really happy when the show started digging into Clary’s identity as a Morgenstern, and went the route of linking her to Jonathan. (Even if I could definitely do without incestuous overtones.) Jace, as a character, tends to work better when he isn’t the center focus, in my opinion. Or at least when the focus is shared, and he gets to react and take part in other characters’ plotlines.

You’ll occasionally see this sort of deconstruction in fanfiction (when it’s not a joyous celebration of unlikely characters banging - not that there’s anything wrong with that), but rarely to this extent, and certainly never with this kind of budget. The idea of a “Shadowhunters style deconstruction” is a really interesting thought exercise to apply to all sorts of media that has both enjoyable and problematic elements.

#shadowhunters #anti the mortal instruments #adding that tag just to be on the safe side

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papersynth · 6 years

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The Feud breakdown theory

TLDR: Its basically one big Klance-centric episode, this whole theory’s probably a reach but its nice lol. Reposted from my twitter. More under the cut!

Lets start off this thread by pointing out one of the glaring things that immediately hit me once I started watching this episode when it aired: the title sequence. I'm not particularly old but my parents have always loved gameshows and reality television.

They would watch it in the living room and so one of the things that stuck out to me the most was how the logo for Garfle Warfle Snick is visually similar to "The Dating Game" which was a 60's TV show centered around a bachelorette picking out a guy to take out on a date.

Even the dang flowers.....

It was at this moment I thought "well, after being basically deprived of any Klance scenes for 3 seasons, you'd think S7 would bring you some of that and boy oh boy I've been fed so well. I think its strange for them to visually replicate a DATING GAMESHOW logo. We know for a fact that they were going for a family feud esque style, so why didn't they just replicate the Family feud logo instead? The vibe of the entire episode would change because it'll be a glaring reference.

Going back to Kaplan's tweet about how things aren't what they seem, the Feud really, like, obviously lets you know, that things really aren't what they seem. The story shifts in focus and tone and so do the characters.

My theory is that this episode foreshadows events to come that even the paladins never knew were even challenges themselves.

I believe this sort of aids the Klance fight theory (graciously written by Ca HERE) because that altean colony which they believe was a win for them to discover, could possibly be their next challenge (their garfle, becomes a warfle)

We also know that it isn't new for Voltron to use the "it was an altean all along!" as shock value for their enemies but at this point, I think Allura's starting to learn that her race is equally capable of evil.

This adds to the idea that during the 3 year gap, there's a possibility that the altean colony and Haggar/Galra have been working together to develop new technology (Hunk: I've never seen the Galra use weapons like these before) because clearly it isn’t the olkari helping them.

Time for my biggest reach yet, how the fuck is that a chopstick lance. You can recognise a mullet for a hundred feet away but you can't recognise a sword at point blank. Strange considering Keith drew out the sword pretty quickly, so there's no way Lance saw chopsticks.

NOTHING in this image screams chopsticks. I even went and printed out this god forsaken screencap and tilted it to see if it looked like chopsticks from a far angle and nope, still looks like a blade. This one's a reach but, chopsticks are insinuate a "yin-yang" dynamic.

Chopsticks is a strange pick because it doesn't LOOK anything like a chopstick. It would have made more sense to call it a shovel, paper fan, knife, surfboard etc. Go off. Chopsticks have always been used as a pair, one cannot exist without the other, which brings me to voltron's wings. I like the idea of Voltron being similar to Darling in the Franxx because of their mecha designs kinda taking reference from Evangelion. This is a reach definitely, but its cute whatever, eat this up. There's a mythical bird called "Jian" and it only has one wing.

The bird can only exist with another of its kind, where together, they can fly and soar. Wings and duality are symbols that have ALWAYS gone hand in hand, simply because there are two. Chopsticks being Lance's stupid fucking word choice is so damn specific its hurting me.

HERE'S ANOTHER REACH Y'ALL, the reason why chopsticks are thicker and circular at the top but thinner and squared at the bottom is because they represent the heaven and the earth. WHERE'D THEY COME FROM Y'ALL. WHERE DID THE PALADINS GO? UH? BACK TO EARTH YEA?

And once again, Keith draws this one very quickly so it does show that Lance can make a good guess immediately. I can see why he would say Dog here. SO WHY COULDN'T YOU SEE A BLADE AT FIRST LANCE? EXPLAIN YOURSELF. MOVING ON FROM THE DAMN DRAWING GAME.

I think these two screenshots speak for themselves. Earlier this morning I wrote a theory about how the Klance dynamic is all over the place because Lance has grown as a person in his absence and he's confused as to how he's supposed to behave towards "new keith".

He takes a jab at Keith throughout the start of this whole episode

"Not my fault keith can't draw!"

"I'm not a mind reader!"

So once again, its the usual bickering coming from Lance, but we see that shift later in the episode, I'll get to that later.

The next game with bii boh bi. Funny to me how the game's called "The Garflator" when we've already established that "Garfle" means to "win". The monster isn't the Garflator as they've misleaded, its the tank.

If you don't believe me, here's the subtitles literally calling the monster the "Warflator". Strange isn't it? You miss these things when you watch it the first time. Bob wasn't joking when Warfle and Garfle were interchangeable.

I don't really want to analyse how Bii Boh Bi acts throughout the whole segment mainly because I think that's reaching a little too far, and it was likely comedic the entire time, but I can't help but notice that his tone throughout suggests a "fill in the blanks" situation.

My theory is that this situation foreshadows the possibility that someone will help Lance fill in the blanks, and guess what the answer is in the GARFLator. He might even really be running out of time so again, stick it out till the last episode of S8.

Bonus: Seems like its pretty nice isn't it. Our crops are watered and his skin is cleared. Joking of course, but overall the whole Garflator/Warflator situation keeps getting mixed up together that's why I think this theory's reaching but I digress.

Time for the scene that made all of us Klancers scream into the depths of hell. We all already know that they didn't have to vote for each other if it was meaningless, but after seeing the recent surplus of Lance being hurt by Keith leaving, I've got a solid theory.

Lets look at the scene first, mainly at Hunk and Pidge's faces. We know Hunk is emotionally observant while Pidge behaves logically, so I think when we're speaking logically: Lance picking Keith seems HIGHLY illogical to pidge.

Lance "hates" Keith. Why pick him to survive? THE MATH DOESN'T ADD UP. On the other hand, Hunk's facial expression here seems more....worried? Not confused. There's been substantial evidence that Lance was hurt by Keith leaving, and if he spoke to anyone about it, it'd be hunk.

I think Pidge is surprised to hear these things come out of Lance's mouth and seeing Keith pick him. Remember when they all picked someone to help Lance? The braniest of the team? I think honestly Pidge might be the first to pick up on their possible affections towards each other.

This sort of parallels the earlier scene where Lance was the last one to figure out Pidge was a girl, but maybe that's reaching a little too hard (Curse these short arms!)

Earlier this morning I wrote a thread about how Lance picking Keith to leave here is probably the nail in the coffin that he deeply cares about Keith. Remember, this situation would probably be the third time that Keith has left Lance.

Read the linked thread, I won't reiterate it here but basically Lance grows in Keith's absence, stepping up when he needs to, but its not really what he wants. Losing Keith again might be devastating, but that only heightens why this scene is so affectionate. He makes this choice himself.

He calls Keith the future because he has faith in his skills (he's our leader) and him as a person (plus he's half galra). That Keith HAS a future. This is SIGNIFICANT because the only other person that has said that they have faith in Keith, was Shiro.

Shiro is VALUABLE to Keith, he's the most important person in his life. Having people believe in him has always been difficult and I think where Lance says (although cryptically) that he believes in Keith, is really where their new dynamic takes off.

THAT's why Keith behaves somewhat coldly in S7, because its never gonna be easy for him to suddenly accept a new person in his life. He’s not sure how he should react to another person caring for him. Both of them know their dynamic isn't what it used to be, they can't joke and jab anymore. We're back to square one, but its different this time.

One last thing about this episode (that isn't Klance related) is Luxia's kingdom, just a fun quick thought that maybe the Baku might be back, i mean he never really was defeated, just trapped. ;)

Uhhh that's it! Can't think of anything else haha. Thanks for the wild ride friends, I hope these feed your optimism for today~ Again, they're all just theories but I hope S8 is a good experience for everyone! Have a great day :)

One last thing: I would love it if Klance happens and the theories prove true, and if it doesn't its okay! Sure I'll be disappointed, but its fine if I'm wrong about a fictional TV show lol.

#klance #keith #lance #vld #vld theory #klance theory #i think this was a nice theory #i worked hard on it pals uwu

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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🏰👑⚔️🐲 79 update

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opheliawillowbrook · 5 years

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Let the Record Show

A/N: So as stated, this fic has been written to provide closure to the infamous arc brought about in Nightwing #93 in which (if you are unaware-so spoilers!) Nightwing is raped by Tarantula (Catalina) after the death of Blockbuster because, (if you think like Devin Grayson) why the fuck not, right? Thankfully for those of you reading this, I don't. But in any case, my friend (Embrlee Frith) and I have discussed this arc in-depth and thought it (aside from most untactful) very poorly handled. Which is a shame since there really were some good bones to discuss, not just about rape, but also male rape victims in our society and the aftermath that all victims of sexual assault and rape survivors go through. However, as most of you are probably aware, DC and Devin Grayson sorta dropped that ball and refused to pic it back up. Though, to be fair, Ms. Grayson, being, well-Ms. Grayson, did try and clarify the scene by referring to it as "non-consensual sex" which is probably the most accurate example of an oxymoron one can bring to fruition, but that's a subject for another time. But given the sort of "mishandling" of the canon, I was commissioned by our lovely Ms. Frith to cover this subject matter and try and bring some closure to this event for both the reader and the character.

I'd also like to apologize to anyone offended by my words of Ms. Grayson. I'm clearly not a fan of her work (as I'm sure I've made it very clear) I just think as a writer this subject matter deserved far more respect than it got and this is my attempt at providing that.

I Also recently re-edited this story and hope the changes help make it feel finished. Please let me know what you think :) I also found a great song to go along with this fic. It's called "They're Not Horses, They're Dead Unicorns" by Bayside. So if you like a little music with you reading, you might enjoy it!

So if you're still reading this, I'd like to thank you. Let me know what you think and let's see if we can put this ghost to rest now, shall we?

As Always, With Love

-Ophelia

“She was a termite, Eating away at my roots. I was just a lost soul, who needed a home, I was filling, a void, with you.” --Bayside

He sat in a dark corner of the crowded bar at a small table by the foggy window. This was far from how he'd normally spend an evening, but tonight was far from a normal night. It had begun to rain over Gotham, the air thick with its dewy metallic scent. It almost smelled like blood—like her . He looked down at his half empty beer bottle, a little distressed that he was three drinks in, and the edge still wasn't off.

Drinking was always something he'd avoided, something he looked at as unnecessary and otiose, but in the wake of the past year, he'd built something of a tolerance to it. It was all he could do to cope at times. He didn't consider himself an alcoholic; he mostly only had a drink or two, but he still wasn't proud of the fact it was something he required now, that it was the only thing that came close to washing away that bitter taste.

It had been a year since he'd lost everything he'd worked so hard for. A year since he'd lost friends, his city, and the thousands of innocent lives within it. But worst of all, he'd lost a significant piece of himself, and he blamed himself for all of it. All because of one night, one choice and her.

The thought of her was nearly enough to make him sick as he downed a sip of beer to try and flush her foul taste from his mouth. However, the cheap beer and whisky was not enough to drown out the bitterness—that rotten taste he could just never get off his tongue. It was like he'd unknowingly bitten into a spoiled piece of fruit, only to find its sweetness was replaced with decay and maggots. He could still feel the invasive parasites crawl beneath his skin every now and then. At just the right moment, with just the right touch, or the right set of words. The feeling always left him feeling dirty, and no matter how hard he scrubbed or scratched, her touch would never wash off him. He'd wear her mark for the rest of his life.

What was worse was that he'd never told anyone about what had happened to him; he himself had a hard time believing its validity. In his mind, he tried to tell himself that what he thought happened was nothing of the sort. That the trauma of watching a man die was the reason for his physical and mental discord. Or at least that's what she'd told him.

Still, it never mattered how many times he tried to talk himself down, or how many times he tried to tell himself that what happened, hadn't happened at all. He could still never get that bloody taste out his mouth. He could even taste it on the air.

"I would have never pegged you as the drinking alone type," he heard a familiar voice say.

He looked up to find a single blue eye staring down at him, her lily-white hair draped around her black leather jacket.

"Rose," he said in a genuine shock, "what are you doing here? Why aren't you with the Titans ?"

"Yeah, about that," she said, taking a seat next to him, "that wasn't exactly hooking up. So I'm currently between jobs right now."

"Okay," Dick replied perplexed, "then what are you doing here?" he asked, entertaining some guilt that she'd gone out on her own. He was after all her mentor.

She shrugged somberly. "Well, I just found out that the closest thing I had to a best friend died…"

"Eddie…" he said ruefully, recalling that Tim recounted the incident, but he hadn't mentioned that Rose left the team. "I'm sorry."

She gave him a weak smile and stole a sip of his beer. "Don't be. Eddie died a hero, and in my book, he couldn't have gone out like more of a badass." She paused a moment, clearly remembering her friend. If anything, she was sad for herself, but refused to admit it. A lot like him.

"But with that being said," she added, "I'm here to drink my feelings and have a meaningless hook-up… Care to help a girl out, Grayson?"

She smiled at him coyly. He'd like to have thought she was joking, but he knew she wasn't. If Rose Wilson was anything, she was brutally honest, and he respected that.

"I can help you with the first half of your missions of self-destruction, but you're on your own with the latter."

"Eh, it was worth a shot," she shrugged, "but it's your loss."

"Somehow I'll live."

Sadly enough, part of him wanted to take her up on her offer. The idea of losing himself in another for a few hours was a tempting way to momentarily ease him of his current torment. However, he knew once the sheets were dirtied and the sweat was dried, he'd be right back where he began. Rose was also a little too young for him, and he didn't feel like adding statutory to his already stained morality. Though it seemed to be the least of her worries. But if nothing else, she'd make good company for his misery.

He ordered her a drink, mostly because he knew that if he didn't, she'd find someone else who would. And he'd have much rather been the man feeding her alcohol than one of the many seedy low-lives who'd jump at the chance to hinder the autonomy of a pretty 17-year-old girl. Not that Dick worried about Rose's ability to take care of herself. He knew she was more than capable, but if breaking one rule prevented her from making a horrible mistake, then he didn't see the harm in it.

The two sipped their beers and talked about their losses and gains. Though somehow they felt their losses were what made them who they were.

Dick took notice at how much Rose had matured, she'd oddly grown up a lot in the past year. She was still very much the same: Hot-headed and unpredictable, but she'd begun to understand how to use those things to her advantage. Dick couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. At least he'd done something right.

They both finished their drinks, and when Dick glanced up to the bar to get a second round, he froze.

It's never gonna stop...

Rose noticed his sudden shift, his face paused, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

"You okay?"

He snapped out of it and looked at her. "I have to go."

He took out his wallet and threw a couple bills down on the table, hurrying himself to leave. But it was too late, she saw him.

She stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to fix her drink. She looked like she were dressed for a funeral, as though she were burying her third husband. Her black dress was low, showing off the prominent curves of her breasts, her lips painted red, like they were stained with his blood. But it didn't matter how pretty she looked. For beneath that low black dress and behind that lipstick smile she flashed at him, he could see just how ugly she truly was.

Suddenly it was like the world stopped turning and the ground fell from beneath his feet. He was back in that moment again, like the scar had been ripped open with a dull knife, the blade delving deep into his dignity.

It's never gonna stop...

"Dick?" He could hear Rose's voice, distant, like she were 100 miles away. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know..."

He took off, practically running out the door, pushing past the crowd of people until he was out in the pouring rain. It was as though he couldn't breathe, like his lungs had filled with a toxic smoke, smothering him in with past he just couldn't shake. He could feel the rain hitting his face, a sensation he'd once found clean and refreshing, only now it felt like an affliction, like a cancer burning into his skin. Convicting him with the sins he'd committed, and the ones committed against him.

Rose had immediately run after him, knowing something was deeply wrong.

"Dick! Dick, wait!" Rose called, her platinum hair looking grey beneath the foggy rain. "Are you okay—what happened?"

He didn't stop, he just kept moving, not sure what to say. "I just need to go home, Rose."

It was a terrible excuse, but it was the best he could come up with. Plus, what could he really say? He couldn't even admit the truth to himself, never mind a teenage girl who held him in such high standing.

"It's okay, you can tell me," she urged, but he still wouldn't stop. "It was that girl, wasn't it?"

He stopped. The rain beating down on him like it had in that very night a your ago.

"She did something to you, didn't she?"

He turned, at a loss, not even sure what to say, but before he could speak, he saw her again.

She'd stepped out of the bar, just under the overhang, looking out at him through falling sky. He stared at her for a minute, part of him wanting to show her how badly he hurt. How deeply that scar through his heart ran. But another part of him was still too afraid to even look her in the eye. For a moment he thought she'd try and approach him, but she didn't, and at first, he couldn't understand why. Then it hit him. And no, it had nothing to do with melting Wicked Witch of the West style.

Rose...

She had now locked her eyes on the woman beneath the overhang, keeping herself from the damp air.

Dick wasn't sure what would come next. Part of him wondered if Rose would, well, pull a Rose and throw a right hook across Catalina's face. Or if Catalina would say something in an attempt to dismiss the younger girl. Something he knew wouldn't go over well.

However, Rose surprised him. She turned her scowling face away from the woman in black and walked toward Dick.

"Come on," she said over the percussion of rain. "This place will let anyone in, we're better off at your place."

The whole speech was a jab at Catalina. She didn't need her mentor to tell her anything, she already knew. Like she could smell that primal fear radiating off him, or possibly even something about the way that woman looked at him. Her smile gilded with something predatory, hungry for self-satisfaction and the taste of blood on her tongue.

Rose took him by the arm and led him away, the rain still pouring down around them. It's humid smell rising from the flooded pavement beneath his feet. Dick could still feel her eyes on him, a feeling of shame ricocheting down his spine as he was whisked away by his own protégé, the old one merely watching as she did so. He'd faced murderous mad men, violent Metahumans, and bloodthirsty demons, but somehow, a simple human woman was the greatest monster he'd ever faced. A woman he could have easily overpowered, yet somehow couldn't. The thought left a deep wound in his masculinity, like he failed as a man, like maybe he'd let it happen. These poisonous thoughts were something he'd become accustomed to ever since Catalina had taken matters into her own hands.

By the time they made it back to Dick's apartment, they were both soaked to the bone. He could feel the filthy rain collecting along his jaw and dripping heavily from his chin as he unlocked the door. Rose noticed his hands were shaking and he cursed at himself as he struggled to steady them. He finally got the key into the lock and turned it, looking around before entering the safety of his home. They entered the reasonably sized studio apartment, and Dick flicked on the light. He closed the door behind them, locking the knob, deadbolt, and key chain. Rose, of course, thought it was a bit overkill, but given his reaction to the woman at the bar, she'd have done the same thing.

"She's really got you on edge," Rose said, pulling off her soggy coat. "Who is she?"

"No one."

"Well, then she's a whole lot of no one ." Rose grimaced. "I'm sensing "They're Not Horses, They're dead Unicorns," vibe?"

"Something like that…" he sighed, wiping the rain from his brow, "only in the darkest context possible."

"What do you think she wants?"

He looked up at her. He hadn't really thought of that. It had been a year since he'd seen her last, since he just walked away and never looked back. She got what she wanted, why would she come back now?

"Fuck," he huffed blankly and sat down. His mind digging up an old thought he'd once had, one he prayed wouldn't come to fruition.

Rose could see the lost look in his eyes and the disparity quaking in the space where his heart used to be. This was nothing new to her. Whatever he lost, he'd lost it before they'd met. Only now she was beginning to understand what that was. She could now see just where that jaded and cynical nature came from, exactly what cracks left him shattered. Unlike many, she was actually about to see exactly what slipped through those cracks, exactly what had been taken away from him.

"I take it whatever she did to you, you're not over it?"

He looked at her with an ill expression and ran his hand through the fringe of his damp hair. "I don't know if I'll ever be over it," he said ruefully. That was the closest he'd ever come to admitting it, to saying it aloud.

Rose looked down, that was all she needed to hear. He didn't need to say more.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

He glanced up at her and smiled at a loss, but also for the fact that she didn't laugh at him, that she didn't seem to judge him for it. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do," he admitted. "Some days I can live it, then come days like this, where I can barely get my shit together."

She could understand that feeling, knowing how it felt to want to shed the scars that bind you, only you can't help but be who they've made you.

"You can talk about it if you want."

"Thanks," he said, and smiled falsely, "but talking about it is something I'm still not quite able to do." He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, like it were they that had betrayed him. "I just don't understand it completely. And honestly, I just wanna forget it ever happened."

"But your body won't let you."

He nodded painfully, almost feeling like he had to vomit. He had to change the subject. "Sorry I ruined your night."

Rose smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "No big deal, you probably saved me from making a poor life choice."

"That's probably true," he conceded with a nod.

"Yeah, seriously. Once my brain tastes alcohol it's like it's go time! Let's make some fucking mistakes! And see how quickly you can ruin the life you work so hard for..." she broke into a slight giggle. Rose was often amused with her on sense of humor.

Dick shook his head, well aware that Rose Wilson and alcohol were not meant to be in good company with each other. That girl could do a whole lot of damage and end up with one hell of a hangover. But he laughed anyway.

"But hey, now I can technically say I went home with Nightwing. I got braggin' rights now."

He shook his head at her shit-eating grin, realizing she'd probably use that to piss off daddy . It would also do little for either of their dwindling reputations, but he had bigger problems to worry about.

"I know you don't wanna talk about it, but I get the feeling you think she found you," Rose said. "Is she capable of that?"

Unfortunately enough, she was. She was an ex-FBI agent, after all. She probably knew exactly where he was this entire time and he never even thought to look behind him. But truth be told, he didn't want to know. It was easier if he didn't go looking for her in every shadow that haunted every corner.

"Yeah."

"Do you think she's been following you?"

He didn't want to think of that either, but he wouldn't put it past her. "Yeah, and it wouldn't be the first time."

"Jesus." Rose scowled. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"A year ago."

"So what's she doing, slinking up from Hell for some fresh air, thinking she'd just drop by, say hello?"

Dick grimaced. "I'm honestly really afraid to find out…" The look on his face hardened, consequence tying his tongue.

"Oh…" She paused a minute, thinking about how devastating that would be. To have something so heavy thrust upon you; forever tied to the person who'd already taken so much. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, and I really hate to say this, but there's no way she'd look like that if she'd dropped a fucking kid like three months ago."

Dick looked up at her. Only Rose would say something like that.

"I mean her tits would be like on the floor," she added crassly. "She could take a fucking eye out with those puppies, and I should know."

He glared at her, not sure whether to scowl or laugh. On one hand, her banter was oddly amusing, and on the other, he had a really hard time accepting humor in that moment. But maybe that was his problem.

"Rose, I know you're just trying to help, but if you could stop talking about how hot Catalina is, that would be great."

"Hey, I never said that walking gash was hot, I just said her fucking boobs could have their own gravitational pull," she corrected. "Life's not fucking fair, man," she added referring to her own humble cup size.

"Yeah, it's not," Dick accorded coldly, and he couldn't have agreed more.

His life had literally become one horrible montage of one bad thing after the next, and it all started the second she showed up. In the beginning, he actually felt guilty for feeling that way, like it was somehow unfair of him to blame her for things that came of his own volition. But with time, it simply just became part of his coping mechanism. Catalina equaled death, devastation and rape, and he just couldn't see past that. He liked to think if he'd just never met her, or if he'd just thrown her ass in jail when he had the chance, that everything would be different. Maybe nobody would have died, and that Blüdhaven would still be standing today.

What was worse, and the thing that ate at him the most, was that he'd willingly invited her into his life. He'd delivered himself like some naive lamb to slaughter because he'd actually once felt sorry for her. That's what it had always come down to. She had a shitty life, it wasn't her fault. If he had just been a better man, or a better mentor , she wouldn't have turned out like that. It didn't seem to matter that she was a grown woman and should have known better, he still made excuses for her. But now, he couldn't excuse that she was stained in his blood and the blood of others, and he couldn't do shit about it. Catalina was literally like a flesh-eating bacteria to him. A termite eating away at his body and soul.

"You've never actually confronted her, have you?" Rose asked, once again pulling him into the now.

He sighed and shook his head. "Not really—no. There was so much going on after it happened and I was still kinda in shock. She told me I wasn't thinking straight and that the trauma I'd experienced made me look at it that way. I believed her because I wanted to, but as the shock wore off and I began to see how far she'd burrowed into my life… I knew I was right."

He seethed a moment, that foul metallic taste overcoming his mouth.

"She was literally taking over my life, acting like she'd done nothing wrong—acting like she belonged with me. I couldn't take it, so I left."

"That's when you started mentoring me…" Rose said, having a rough idea of the timeline.

Dick looked up, it really was ironic. He'd been so badly burned by one protégé, and the other was the only thing keeping him from crawling out of skin.

"Yeah, you turned out fine, though."

"Yeah, because of you," Rose urged. She owed him everything. Without Dick Grayson, who knew where she'd be. "Without you, I could never be a hero."

He looked at her fondly, but he knew she didn't feel like one. He didn't feel like one either.

"Y'know," Rose began, "sometimes you gotta take your pound of flesh and just walk away."

"I'm really not one for revenge, Rose."

"I saw the way you looked at her, Dick," she said, sitting next to him, "like if you could kill her and get away with it, you would."

He didn't say anything, but that was exactly how he felt, only he knew it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't fix him.

He rose from the couch and walked to a drawer, he opened it and took out an old shirt, throwing it over to Rose.

"You should change out of those wet clothes. There's a laundry room downstairs if you wanna throw your stuff in the drier."

She caught the shirt and nodded. "Yeah, there's no way in Hell I'm leaving you alone tonight. Not with Psycho Bitch on the prowl."

He smiled. "Wanna order a pizza?"

"You paying?"

After that, the two talked about why Rose left the Titans, and why she felt she didn't really fit there. They talked about Eddie, and how Rose had asked him to leave with her. That was a little painful.

Rose asked how things with Barbara were going (they were supposed to get married, after all.) However, the answer was nowhere. Apparently Dick was having a hard time functioning in the relationship, specifically because Barbara was always so micro-focused on everything he did. From what she understood, that was nothing new. Barbara had a reputation for being a little unforgiving, especially when it came to Dick. And Rose could totally understand why he didn't feel comfortable opening up to her about what he'd been through. He wanted her to see him as strong and competent. He'd probably feared she'd think he were exaggerating, or scold him for being too trusting with Catalina in the first place. And though his fears weren't necessarily warranted, she understood why he felt that way. Nobody wants the love of their life to see them as damaged.

He apparently tried his hand at a few other relationships, but nothing really seemed to fit. Everything just seemed uncomfortable, and in some cases, much like with Barb, they just didn't have the patience for his newfound affliction. It's like everything just felt so disconnected.

His concept of touch was altered, and not the violent sort, the intimate kind. Little gestures made his stomach sink, especially if he wasn't expecting them. There were times when a woman he was deathly attracted to would lean in, and he'd pull away without a second thought. It had just become instinct. Even something as simple and comforting as a hug had become a perversion of itself. He hated how things of such simple kindness now held such rue and disdain. Things that once breathed of love and strength were now among the things he feared most. It was like the ties to his humanity were cut clean from his bones.

Dick looked at the time to find the hour was far beyond late, and he was beginning to feel it as well.

"I think I'm gonna turn in," he said. "You can take the bed."

Rose shook her head. "No, I'm good with the couch. Unless, you wanna share the bed with me," she said with a sly grin.

"No offense," Dick said, and smiled, "but I'd rather take the couch. Nice try, though."

"What can I say, I'm not a quitter."

"And I admire that, but you're off-limits."

She smirked at him, as if his comment gave her some vague validation. "Yeah, but if you change your mind, the offer's still on the table," she added mischievously. "But for real, I'll take the couch. You're much taller than me, it's not really fair to make you sleep on it."

"You're not making me, I'm offering."

"And much like my offer, I'm not taking yours."

"Okay, then," Dick said, picking up a pillow. "Oh, and Rose…"

She turned and looked over at him questionably.

"If you pull that shit you pulled on Tim, I'm gonna kick your ass."

He threw the pillow at her and she smiled, actually looking a little embarrassed.

"Um, I plead the fifth," she replied, catching it. "But, I will say that I was absolutely shit-canned that night and my crowning achievement of the evening was that I didn't die."

"Sounds like you made some fucking mistakes."

"Oh, you know it."

"Night, Rose," he said, crawling into bed.

"Night, Deathwing."

He rolled his eyes. "I hate that name."

"I know."

He didn't get much sleep that night. For even in the still silence, his brain would not shut off. His body desperately ached to shut itself off, but this primal force would not allow it. He lay in bed, just staring at the ceiling, shuffling through the thoughts and fears. Counting the losses, wondering if there was anything gained through any of it, but he just couldn't seem to find anything.

Rose was fast asleep, curled up in a ball on the couch. He took a deep breath, both out of loss and boredom.

He couldn't help but wonder where she was then, where'd she'd been. If she'd been there this entire time, and he just hadn't seen her until now. What did that say if she had?

He finally found the word that he'd been searching for. The word that best described the vile taste in his mouth. The one that brought validation to the feeling he'd been struck with when he'd noticed her dressed all in black.

"Violated," he whispered into the darkness. That's how he felt—how he'd felt ever since the moment she'd touched him. Everything she'd done after that, and even before, was a violation of his life, his morality, his body and above all—his sanity.

He wondered if she'd even seen it that way. If there was one thing wrong with Catalina, it was her moral compass, but he couldn't see that as an excuse any longer. He couldn't accept that she just didn't know any better. If anything, that made it worse.

When the morning finally came, Dick had managed to snag a few meager hours of sleep, but it was better than nothing. He got up, showered, and made some coffee, the smell rousing Rose from what he could only describe as a near coma.

Lucky little bitch.

She stretched out on the couch like a lazy house cat who wanted her belly rubbed, but she wasn't so lucky.

"It lives," Dick said, bringing her a cup of much-needed coffee.

She smiled tiredly, sleep fresh in her eye. "Yeah, there were a few hours there where my soul was like, I should probably go …"

"Well, then consider this coffee the rejection notice to your DNR."

She took the mug and thanked him, taking a generous sip.

"So where you off to from here?" he asked, heading back behind the counter.

She shrugged. "Not sure yet. I'll probably just wander around until something sticks."

"And what if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll revise the game plan," she replied flatly. "Or maybe retire to Florida and die."

"You're kinda young for that," he laughed.

"When has age ever stopped me?"

He raised a brow. "Good point."

"What about you?" she asked. "What's next for Nightwing? "

"Breakfast." He took a carton of eggs from the fridge and a package of bacon. "You like bacon, right?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied, stretching again. "Anyone who doesn't can't be trusted."

"That's what I like to hear. Eggs scrambled?"

"Sure," she laughed, rising from the couch and leaning against the counter.

He noticed the shit eating grin on her face, he had to ask. "What's so funny?"

"Um, I'm wearing your T-shirt and you're making me breakfast, and the best part is, I didn't even have to blow you."

God, she has no filter, he thought. If that was her way of flirting, then at least one would always know where they stood with her.

"Well, I hate to ruin your little school girl fantasy, but would you mind beating the eggs?" he said, handing her a bowl and a whisk.

She smirked and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off at the pass. "And do not say what I know you're about to say."

"Oh you're no fun—I'm only kidding."

He laughed. "Rose, we both know you're not kidding."

She smiled coyly. "Guilty, but what do you want from me? At least I'm fun—unlike Kara. Now that girl's got a serious problem. You should see her Pinterest page. It's fucking creepy, and so is Cassie's…"

"I don't even understand what Pinterest is."

"Keep it that way, I wish I had. Girls get uber creepy on Pinterest." Rose paused a moment. "Speaking of creepy. I can only imagine what Cuntberry's Pinterest page looks like."

"Now I'm really happy I don't know what Pinterest is."

They went on to make breakfast and eat, continuing their banter, going on about old teammates and who was where. Dick offered to clean up while Rose took a shower, not that she needed an excuse to skip out on the cleanup. When she was done, she got dressed and ready to head out.

"You need anything," he asked, walking her out of the building, "like money or—"

"Thanks," she said, cutting him off, "but I'm good. Plus with a face like this, free alcohol won't be in short supply."

"I meant like... for food and a place to stay." He scowled playfully.

"I'm fine, my mom left me some money. So I'll be good until I figure out what the hell I'm doing."

"Well, I think you should go back to school."

"I have my GED, that's fine."

"A degree would better," he replied, pushing the door open. "You're a smart girl, it would be a shame to waste that."

"That coming from the boy who dropped out of Hudson University ... and became a cop."

"Hey, I got great benefits with that job."

"Yeah, 'cause being a trust fund brat doesn't pay, right?"

He pushed her playfully, and she punched his arm. "Ah," he whimpered, forgetting how strong she was. "So violent."

"Like you can't take it," she said, stepping out on the sidewalk. "So I guess this is me…"

He shrugged looking back at her and stepped out the door. "So where you staying?"

"Shitty motel, other side of town."

"Sounds swanky."

"It's kinda charming… if you like crime scene tape, the smell of burnt cigarette ash and a gratuitous amount of prostitution."

"Sounds a lot like your childhood."

She burst out laughing as if she didn't laugh she'd cry. "Sadly true. Lord only knows the damage I've suffered at the hands of my parents."

He smiled, reaching into his pocket, and took something out. "Here," he said, holding a pre-pay phone. "My number's already programmed in it. If you need anything, let me know."

She smiled gratefully and took the device. "Does that also include—" she began mischievously, until Dick stopped her.

"3am booty calls—no."

"Damn," she sighed. "Worth a shot though. And thank you… for putting up with me and my nonsense."

"Well, your nonsense actually helped me get through a pretty tough night so… thank you."

"Well, if you need anything, I'll probably be around later."

"I'll keep that in mind." He smiled.

She began to turn, but stopped and turned back to him. "Y'know how you're always telling me to not be so hard on myself and that I shouldn't be dwelling on the past because I can't change it and all that shit?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, vaguely."

"You should do the same," she replied. "You can't change what happened, but you can be stronger for it."

He looked at her a moment. She may not have been without her faults, but she really did possess a heart of gold. And he couldn't have been prouder of her.

He pulled her into a hug, slightly taking the girl by surprise, but she quickly relaxed into it.

"Thank you," he whispered. "It's nice to know I did something right."

She smiled against his shoulder. "You saw the good in me when I couldn't, I thought you deserved the same," she said, then finally pulled away. "Well this has officially gotten far too sappy for my liking. I'm off like a prom dress, Grayson."

"Bye, Rose!" He waved. "And be good!"

A smug expression fixed on her face. "I can make no such promise," she droned, "but for you, I'll try…"

He watched her leave, hoping she too, would find her place in the world. It would be a shame if she didn't. When she was gone, he turned to go back upstairs when a thought crossed his mind. A thought that raised the hair on the back of his neck. He looked around, it was like he could feel her , like he knew she was there, but he just couldn't see her.

I'm just being paranoid, he thought. I need to stop thinking about this.

He grudgingly shook off the feeling and headed back into his building. When he reached his apartment, he dug into his pocket, and his heart dropped.

"Damn it," he hissed, realizing he'd misplaced his key.

It wasn't really that big of a deal, he was more than capable of breaking into his own apartment. He just didn't really feel like doing it. He looked around, and noticed an old bobby pin lying on the floor, not far from where he stood.

"Perfect."

He picked up the pin and bent it back, he'd have the lock picked in no time. He placed his hand on the knob and inserted the pin, but before he could go to work on the lock, he realized the door was unlocked.

He froze. "No, it can't be…"

He turned the knob with an unsteady hand and slowly pushed the door open. He peeked his head in, looking around to see if anyone was there. He finally found the nerve to step inside. Part of him actually contemplating calling Rose and asking her to come back.

Fucking man up, Grayson , he thought, silently scolding himself, especially since a year prior this would have been nothing to him.

He looked around, nothing seemed to have been touched or out of place, everything was just the way he'd left it… except for one thing.

His eyes fell on his pillow; there was something lying there, something that just didn't belong. He approached his bed, slowly, readying himself for anything that came his way in that moment. Deep down, he hoped he was just over-exaggerating, that maybe Rose had left it there for him. But any hope of that was dashed when he peered down at the envelope and saw her handwriting, scratched across the white paper in red.

Mi Amor, it read as he picked it up, a vile mix of anger, fear, disgust and bitterness pressing into his flesh as he held it.

She was here…

His knees buckled and he collapsed, too overcome by the thought that she'd been in his home. That she could, and did, actually take that security away from him. How could she? Did she actually think this tactic was romantic? Or was this simply just a power play? How long had she been waiting for him to leave? She had to have been watching him.

He felt sick and threw the letter down, scrambling for the waste basket, his body violently purging the contents of his stomach. He dry heaved a few times, his breath tight, his heart pounding in his throat. His face was hot, everything was hot.

He tried to focus, and pull himself out his current state of duress. "Think of something else…"

But he couldn't. And the truth was, that was what she wanted. She didn't want any other thought to cross his mind, she wanted that space for herself. She wanted to consume him.

He sat there a while, forgetting about time, his mind just completely racing until it finally grew numb. Everything went numb.

He resented it—feeling like a victim, but he was one, and he hated her for it. He hated how weak he'd become and how easily he crumbled at the mere thought of her. He hated that she'd infiltrated him and festered in his mind. That she was the source of such rotten memories, each one decaying as he slept, the infection spreading through his consciousness and destroying his sanity cell by cell.

He looked down at his hands, flashing back to an image that had burned itself in his mind, one that made him recoil. He could see her face through the billowing shadows and the silver flecks of rain, her eyes cast down on him. Through the still frames, his quaking hand reached up to stop her, but failed to do so, his objection falling on not a deaf ear, but an ignorant one. He felt empty, like he'd died, his heart ceasing to beat, but somehow, left watching from his empty shell. Like a cage with a dead bird inside.

Now, in that very hand, he held the letter, nearly forgetting it was there. He didn't want to open it, he didn't care what she had to say, or how she felt, or how fucking crazy she was. None of that mattered, she'd already taken too much. She could kill him for all he cared, at least then it would be over.

He pulled himself together and tore the envelope open. He took out the piece of fine paper, a faint scent hitting him like a ghost he was far too familiar with. It was her perfume, an odious blend of mahogany and teakwood. It was slightly musky and wreaked of her cruel brand of femininity. The smell was enough to force his flesh to crawl, his hand aching as his eyes flashed with the loathsome image of her shadow in the rain.

He took a heavy breath and unfolded the note, the same red ink staining the purity of the pale page, his stony blue eyes growing grey as the storm rolled in.

To my dearest Amor, Mi Tesoro,

(And if that wasn't enough to induce vomiting...)

It's been far too long, I know. My time away from you has been nothing but agonizing. I tried—I really did—to stay away like you asked of me, but… I just couldn't. And to be honest, if I could find a way to tie you to me so that you'd never leave me again—I would. No one could ever love you the way I do, or as much as I do, Mi Amor.

As for the last time we saw each other, I forgive you. I know you were in a dark place then, and I'm hoping you'll let me help to ease that pain. I would die for you, I hope you know that.

I'm sorry to contact you like this, but I cannot stand the thought of you rejecting me in person—not again. I want to start over with you, I want things to be different between us. Please meet me tonight at the bar. After seeing you last night, I can't wait any longer. I don't know what I'll do if you don't show… Please just give me this one thing.

If for whatever reason you decide not to show, just know I love you with my dying breath, and know I always will…

Todo Mi Amor, Catalina

Her words read like sugar laced with cyanide, delusional and so far removed from the suffering she'd caused. Like she'd come back to rip what was left from his half-empty chest. The letter still hung in his hands, the red ink somehow disturbing to him. Granted, the whole gesture was disturbing to him. She'd violated his privacy, his home, his body, and written down every word of it as though it were love. And maybe it was-the deadly kind .

He looked again at that last line, those deathly sweet words bring him back to one moment.

It's never gonna stop…

And, indeed, it was never going to stop.

He buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes, trapped in grief. He just didn't know what to do. He tried running off, he tried sending her away. He'd literally had her locked up and thrown away the key, and still, she somehow managed to slither her way out of that. What could he do now?

He finally removed himself from the floor and made sure every window and door was locked up tight. He immediately ripped off all his clothes and took another shower in a feverish, angry fashion, the water so hot it nearly blistered his skin, and remained that way until it finally ran numbingly cold. But he still felt dirty.

He got out of the shower and looked at his worn face in the mirror. He felt as though he'd aged about a thousand years, yet he was trapped in the body of a twenty-something year-old man. A shell of who he used to be. That foul taste still sour in his mouth, mixing with the sick taste of bile. If only she were like old gum to him, momentarily sweet, but tasteless, something he could spit out and forget. He did his best to brush away the putrid flavor, but like so many nights he'd endured, he just couldn't rid himself of her aftertaste.

He didn't bother getting dressed, he just crawled into bed and lay there, wishing he could sleep, but such a mercy was not granted to him. As the hours passed, he thought about the yesterdays: The long sleepless nights, the following days after Blockbuster's death and what came of it. Each frame passed by him like a fog, like ghosts without names, aimlessly moving through him. Their cold hands removing pieces of him and burying them beneath wilting flowers where they'd lie forgotten, rotting away into nothing.

After a few hours of silently wasting away, he looked at the time. It was a little after 5pm. He was hungry, but he didn't really care, mostly because it didn't matter what he ate, he'd still taste her.

His phone rang, startling him. He missed the days when he wasn't so jumpy. Now if someone so much as touched him, his skin would crawl. He didn't want to bother getting it, but knew if he didn't, it might raise some concerns on the other end. He just hoped it wasn't anything important. Or better yet, he hoped it wasn't her.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he heard Rose say, "whatcha up to?"

Lying in bed contemplating killing myself. "Nothing, thinking about making dinner. You?"

"Eating dinner, and binge-watching Dexter. "

"That sounds… like a weird combo…"

"Yeah, this show makes me hungry, as do most things, really."

Dick shook his head. She really did take after her uncle Wade.

"So did you just call to tell me about how watching a serial killer dismember other serial killers makes you wanna polish off a second plate of ribs, or did you actually need something?"

She giggled a moment, but then got back to the matter at hand. "No, I was calling to see how you were. Y'know, that whole song and dance…"

He smiled vaguely, but felt guilty. He didn't want to lie to her, but that was exactly what he was going to do.

"I'm fine, Rose. You don't need to worry about me," You have enough to worry about…

"You sound a little…" She paused, trying to find a delicate way to put it. "Y'know, like you're thinking of going down the street instead of across it." Well… delicate for her.

He sighed. "It's not like that."

It kind of was.

"Anything I missed?"

He looked down at the letter. "Nope, just still a little shaken from last night, that's all."

"Y'know, if you want me to, I can come over…"

Part of him really wanted the company, but the other part of him didn't want to drag her in any deeper than she was. "I'm fine, Rose. I'm still trying to figure shit out."

"I know," she replied. "I just know how hard it is when the very thing that emptied you is out there and you know it."

She may have been young, but she knew a lot about betrayal, abuse, and heartbreak. Though in Dick's case, heartbreak wasn't at all the right term. It was more like having his heart cut out.

"Do you think if I confronted her," Dick asked cautiously, "it would be a bad idea?"

There was a pause from Rose's end, and he could hear her breath hitch slightly. "No," she finally began, "I think if that's what you need to do, then you should do it." There was conviction in her voice. She understood all too well. "But Dick…"

"Yeah."

"If you do, just know that it will probably end badly. You never really know what you're capable of when someone who's hurt you that deeply is standing right there in front of you… You might not even know what she's capable of."

She wasn't wrong. Dick could think of one particular moment where he'd come dangerously close to bludgeoning Catalina to death. His outburst frightened him. He'd never before been that angry or volatile, and the fact was, in that moment, he wanted kill her.

Maybe I shouldn't go…

"But I understand that maybe you need to face her, let her see what she did to you. Let her know what will happen if she ever tries to do that to you again…"

He took a deep breath, he'd never really gotten the closure he needed. He was too wrapped up in everything else. Not to mention, part of him was still in denial, trying forget it ever happened. But it didn't matter how many times he told himself it was a simple "misunderstanding," or how many times he tried to chalk it up to guilt, it still happened, and it happened to him.

"So what do you have on the agenda tonight?"

He could hear Rose click her tongue, and she replied, "I was gonna polish off a third plate of ribs," she joked, "but if you have a suggestion, I might be down…"

"I was thinking of getting a drink… "

A few more hours had passed. Dick had gotten dressed and finally left his apartment, which took more effort than he liked to admit. However, it helped to know that he wasn't going into this situation blindly or alone.

The rain from the night before had dissipated, the air cool as the wind blew over his shoulder. The street was unusually quiet for once. It was peaceful, but unnerving, much like the past year. Hopefully that meant something—something good.

Each step took a little more persuasion than the last, each muscle recalling the touch of her cold hands, the stink of the rain and emptiness that followed all of it. The only thing that drove him was the notion that this might lead to the end. That whatever followed tonight was for the better. He just hoped, silently prayed it was true.

He finally approached the bar, and that uncomfortable feeling grew tighter in chest. It reminded him of how he felt after he'd lost his parents. The loss and uncertainty colliding together like the harsh winds and rains of a hurricane, leaving a lifetime of devastation in its wake.

He paused when he got to the door. Part of him wanted to turn away and just forget about the whole thing. However, he wasn't sure what would happen in the fallout if he did. He took another deep breath, and pulled the door open. The bar wasn't overly crowded, unlike the night before. The table by the window was open, and he sat himself down like he'd never left. He looked around, trying to get a better sense of his surroundings. Rose was already sitting in the back corner, polishing off what looked like a Mai Ti, the poor guy next to her probably striking out. She glanced over at Dick with a sly grin, and bit into the cherry left in the boozy remnants of her drink.

Yeah, the poor bastard's not getting very far with her.

Dick looked around. Catalina was nowhere to be found, and part of him hoped it would stay that way. But he knew he wouldn't be so lucky, she'd show eventually, and if she didn't, he didn't even want know what would happen then.

A period of ten, then twenty minutes went by. Rose was already finishing her second drink and chewing through her second guy, while Dick hadn't even taken a sip of his beer. He heard the door open and he looked up, a cold wash of fear running straight through his veins. She looked over at him and smiled, disturbingly, as if nothing were amiss. Like she couldn't even see that he was practically crawling out of his skin.

She went straight to the bar, happily flirting with the bartender who remembered her. He fixed her a glass of red wine and poured a few fingers of whisky. The whole time Dick glared at her, noticing her lip color was the same, her frame now covered in a form fitted black coat. He heard his phone vibrate, and quickly checked it.

Rose: Something tells me Tits has your whole funeral planned out on Pinterest.

He shook his head and replied: Seriously, she looks like she's dressed for the occasion too!

"What's so funny?" he heard, and looked up. There she was.

She set down her wine and pulled out her chair, placing the whisky in front of Dick.

"I thought you could use this," she said, pulling off her coat and sitting down.

"I think I'm good," Dick replied, pushing it away. "I remember the last time I accepted a drink from you."

She was still wearing black, this dress being a little different from the last, but cut just as low and shamefully short. Once again, she looked like some rich trophy wife burying the husband she killed.

"So you do blame me for that ?"

"You got me shit-faced and tried to make me marry you," Dick scowled, "how is that not your fault?"

Catalina smiled as if nothing were wrong. "I didn't come here to argue, Mi Amor, I—"

"DON'T, call me that ," Dick snapped angrily.

She glared at him, nearly speechless. "I've always called you that—"

"Well, I don't want you to," Dick growled. "I never did."

"Like I said," Catalina continued cautiously, "I didn't come here to argue, I came here to talk."

"You have five minutes and that's all you're getting from me."

She lifted her wine and fraughtly sipped it. "So I see you're still upset with me."

"You could call it that, yeah."

"I thought giving you time would help, I guess I was wrong." She peered down at the drink she'd bought him, still untouched. "You're really not gonna drink that?"

"No," Dick replied coldly, "I don't want anything from you."

She looked back at him, insulted. "I didn't know what I was doing then, okay? I was just as lost as you were."

"Really, because it felt like you were leading the way. Leading me right off a damn cliff."

"Because you let me," she asserted. "You did the moment you got out of my way."

His stare hardened, and for a moment, he almost saw red. "You bitch," he hissed. "You still want me to believe that it was my fault . You still want me to feel guilty for what you did."

"I did what needed to be done." She lifted her glass again. "I did what you couldn't."

"Because it was wrong. "

"Sometimes a little wrong can serve a great right." She smiled at him, like she didn't feel anything. "I know you have a hard time seeing that, it's why I did what I did. So you didn't have to."

"So what, you want me to thank you?" Dick asked bitterly. "That's what you want, isn't it? Because if I thank you, then I own it, right?"

"No," she replied with a chill, and placed her glass on the table. "I wanna know it was worth it."

"I've given you enough, I'm not giving you that too."

"You really believe that?" she asked, wounded. "You haven't given me nearly what I've given you."

Dick laughed patronizingly. "You're a liar. The only thing you have ever done is take, Catalina. And I don't know what else you want from me, but I have nothing left for you to take."

Her face softened, but he wasn't sure why. "I don't know what you mean… but heartbreak can bring out the ugliness in all of us."

He thought he was going to lose it.

"Heartbreak?" he questioned. "Fucking heartbreak!"

"Keep your voice down, people can hear yo—"

"No, Cat," he declared, leering at her, "you didn't break my heart, you ATE it. That way I could never get it back!"

She grimaced. "I don't understand where this is coming from, Mi Amor. I would never intentionally hurt you like tha—"

His hand fell on the table with a slamming percussion. "Then why did you fucking rape me, Cat?" Dick hissed, so that only Catalina could hear him.

Her brow creased as she leaned in. "What the hell…" She was speechless, a little taken back. "What are you even talking about? I would never do such a thing to you..."

"The rooftop, Cat! What, you don't remember? Was me telling you not to touch me just a minor inconvenient detail to you?"

"We went over this," she reasoned, hushed, "you were in shock, you didn't know what you were saying—"

"Then why the hell would you think it'd be a good idea to fuck me then?"

"There is no need to be vulgar. I—"

"Vulgar," Dick laughed. "I'm sorry my choice of words is making you uncomfortable—I mean you raped me, so I guess I owe you some sense of decency, right?"

"Stop saying that—it didn't happen like that."

"Yes, it did," he insisted. "You fucking raped me and you do it every time you sit there and act as if you're entitled to a part of me—to a part of my life . Or when you act like it's me—like I'm the one with the problem!"

"Because all I've ever done is love you and you've given me nothing!" she spat, her face beaming red.

"So you fucking took it, you bitch," he seethed, his voice poisonous.

"You never appreciated anything I did for you," she hissed. "I almost spent my entire life behind bars for you!"

"For what you did, in my name," Dick corrected. "How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?"

"Loved," she replied with a warning, like it was some end all-be all. "I did it because I love you, because I saw how much you needed me, how much you needed me to do that for you . And you let me. Tell me that isn't love ."

He was honestly frightened. He could see that deep in her eyes she believed what she was saying. That she thought by killing Blockbuster, it would make him love her, but it didn't. It only pushed him away, and she couldn't let go of that.

"You need help."

"I need you," she countered. "I love you more than anything, and I can't live without you ."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Dick asked. "Because I'm not falling for it, not this time."

"So what? Blockbuster's death is a stain on your conscience, but my life, what—not so much?"

Dick looked away from her, he knew she would probably play this card. The truth was, he would care if she did something to hurt herself, especially to spite him—it terrified him, in fact. But if he played into it, she'd win, and he'd never be free of her.

"No, of course I'd care, but if you really loved me, you wouldn't leave me with that guilt. That would destroy me, and you know that. How is that love?"

He could see her blood practically boiling. He had her cornered logically, she wasn't getting out of this one.

Lucky for her, she didn't have to. The bartender approached them, standing behind Cat and looking at Dick as if he were the bad guy.

"If there's a problem here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," he said, obviously addressing Dick.

He looked over to the man, he was just doing what he thought was right, rescuing the damsel. Dick would have done the same if he didn't know any better. But still, it made him sick that everyone would assume she was the victim—that she actually thought and acted like the victim.

Dick pushed out his chair when Catalina turned and raised her hand.

"There's no problem here," she said calmly, "this is just a simple misunderstanding ."

She looked over at Dick, she wanted him to agree. Only he wasn't interested in doing what she wanted—not anymore.

"It's okay," he said, letting his eyes drift down to Catalina, "I was getting ready to leave, anyway."

The Bartender looked over at Dick as though he were one lucky son of a bitch, and smiled at the Catalina. "Well if you need anything, just let me know."

Yeah, wait till she bites your apple, hero, Dick thought a little bitterly as the man walked back over to the bar, his eyes still trained on Dick like a hawk.

Dick began to rise from the table, but the black widow protested. "We're not done here."

Dick looked back at her warningly. "I am."

She sneered from across the table and stood up as if to block his exit.

"Well I'm not."

Dick looked back at her, a little intimidated, not so much for the fact that she was standing in his way, but for the fact that if he even touched her he'd probably get his ass thrown in jail, and she knew that.

He peered over her shoulder to see Rose stand up, ready to kick "Tits" into next Tuesday if need be. Dick looked back at her, visually telling her to stand down. He couldn't allow her to take the fall for him—as much as she wanted to.

Catalina noticed his line of sight and looked behind her, a thick scowl casting over any beauty left on her face. She trained her sight back on Dick, the scowl taking on a mocking expression.

"What? Not man enough to face me without your little pet ? Nice, Dick."

Like she had any right to talk about pride or strength. She didn't know the first thing about being strong or brave. He needed to let her know that.

"You're the one who's jealous of a 17-year-old girl, but if you really must know, she replaced you, and she's ten times the hero you could ever dream of being, Catalina. You'll never be anything to anyone."

Out of anything he said, that seemed to hit her the hardest, but he wasn't sure why. Was it because he'd replaced her, or was it because he valued the replacement more than her? Or was it because he took away her validation as a hero?

She looked down bitterly, and made a fist. "Fine," she growled, "if that's how you feel, fine! But this isn't over…"

He didn't like the way she said that, but regardless, he let her continue.

"…Not by a long shot," she continued harshly. "So when you're done playing with little girls , I'll be waiting."

She leaned in as if she were going to kiss him, his lips hardened and cold, but she only smiled mockingly, hoping whatever stains she'd left on his soul would fester one last time. She placed her fist in his hand, her smirk deepening, feeling him writhe at the contact, but he still held his ground. He felt a small piece of paper fall into his palm and she closed his fist around it, holding her hands around his. He knew she was aware that he could do nothing, that's why she was doing it. He leered at her with a burning hatred, but that was all he could do. For now.

"Until then, Mi Amor."

He watched her walk out the door, the bartender still glaring at him. He wanted him out, and Dick was happy to oblige.

Rose finally moved from her corner, trying to mask the fact she was nervous for him, but covered it smugly.

"Ready to go?" she asked, and he nodded.

Within moments, the two were nearly out the door, but not before one last outburst.

"Wait," the frat boy who'd bought Rose a few drinks said, "you're going home with him? He didn't even buy you a drink!"

Rose looked back at the guy like he were wearing a helmet or something. "Yeah, last time I checked, buying a girl a few drinks was about as binding as a pinky swear. Stop acting like you bought me a lobster."

Dick shrugged at the guy, as did the bartender. Yeah, it sucked, but hey, home girl owed him nothing.

"Ready to go, Rose?"

"Like a prom dress."

And with a roll of the bartender's eye, they left.

They walked outside, the wind blowing a little harsher now. The sky above was clear, the stars managing to shine over the cityscape despite its dull radiance lifting into the air.

Dick admittedly felt a little freer, like some of the weight he'd been shouldering was alleviated, the space in his chest aching less. He'd said everything he needed to say to her, even if she wouldn't own up to any of it. He wasn't stupid, he knew she'd never acknowledge her wrongdoings, but it would have helped if she had. He may have even held some hope for her, but he knew now he should have never placed such a fragile thing in her hands to begin with.

"So was it worth it?" Rose finally asked, uncertainty bleeding from her eye.

Dick took a breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm not fixed, but I'm better. And that's a good start."

Rose smiled weakly at him, she knew what it was like to feel that way. Just always short of whole.

"Yeah, it gets better with time."

Dick shuddered at the thought. Time was something that had become unbearable to him, to think it could actually help mend his wounds, seemed a little deceptive.

"I hope you're right." He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder blade, guiding her down the street. "Thanks again. I don't know if I could have faced her without someone I trusted to back me up."

Rose smiled coyly. "You trust me?"

"Yeah," Dick said, and looked at her oddly. "I wouldn't have pushed for you to be a Titan if I didn't. What makes you think I don't?"

Her eyes fell on the ground. "Cause no one really does. Eddie did, but he's gone now. You just never really said it, so… I don't know—I guess I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't…"

He stopped and turned to face her. "Trust is something that you shouldn't have to say out loud, Rose, it's just something you feel. I trust you because at the end of the day you wear your heart on your sleeve and you don't bullshit anyone. I know you think you're not a good person, but you are, and deep down, you just want people to see that. You're a hero because you want to be a better person, and when you help people, you do it because it's right, not because you're looking for a favor, or to be favored."

"That's because you haven't received my bill yet, Grayson. You've racked up quite the tab, too," she joked, trying to get the focus off of her. "I'm kidding, by the way."

"I know. Humor is how you deal with crazy shit, it's that or anger. I'm glad you're turning to the former."

"I learned that from you," she said softly. "I saw how much you were hurting, yet you still found a way to make light of everything. I thought I'd give it a try."

"I'm glad you did."

They reached her Harley and she turned to her mentor with a sentimental half-smile. "Well, it's been real, but like every great adventure, my time here has come to an end."

"Yeah, I'm really gonna miss you. I'm shocked you haven't made a sexual innuendo all night."

"Well, it didn't seem appropriate given the circumstances, but, I found out the age of consent is 16 in the state of New Jersey… So y'know, if you wanna make out with me before I ride off into the horizon, I'd be cool with that."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I'm aware what the legal age of consent is, and no, no offense."

"You and your morality, Grayson," she said, picking up her helmet. "Maybe I'll have more luck with your brother."

"My brother?"

"You know, the guy with the red helmet, what's his name?"

"Oh… Jason," Dick said, less than enthused, "he comes with a lot of baggage."

"And you don't?"

"Touché."

"Well, I'm gonna head off now," Rose laughed. "No more psycho stalkers, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he said with a smile. "No more letting creepy guys buy you drinks."

"I let you buy me drinks."

He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Please take care of yourself, Rose."

She looked up at him and nodded. "I will, I promise… Deathwing."

"Okay, now get the hell out of my city and stop calling me that."

As he watched her go, he realized he finally understood. Understood why Catalina, a self-centered, ego-driven narcissist wanted to be a hero. It had nothing to do with helping humanity, or even making one life better. She had no need for that, it was all about power. Everything she did, every move she made was self-serving or a display of dominance. Killing Blockbuster, that was simply her playing God, forcing herself on Dick; that was taking what she wanted, but couldn't have, and she'd just reminded him of that. She couldn't leave him until she'd had the last word, till she'd sunk her fangs in him one last time to poison him. She just had to take away his power. Well, not anymore. If she wanted to act like an insect, he'd just have to crush her like one.

She waited, a glass of wine in her hand. She took as sip and looked down at her phone, recollecting the call she'd received. She was a bit shaken when she heard his voice, her heart teetering on its tipping point. He told her he was too rash, that he let his anger get the better of him, but he was ready to talk now. Ready to hear what she had to say. That he couldn't wait. She'd smiled at that, she knew he'd come around, he always did.

Without a second thought, she gave him her address and invited him over, telling him she would make it all better and left him with that.

She took another sip, her anticipation pumping through her veins, the heat of the wine mingling with her blood. She'd been waiting an hour, though it felt like a decade, but that hour was nothing compared to the lifetime she'd spent waiting for him.

A knock rapped at the door, and her heart skipped a beat. Her breath hitched and she placed her glass down on the table and went to the door, taking a moment to check her makeup and fix her dress. She composed herself, taking a moment to quell her near giddiness. She finally opened the door, doing her best to display her most convincing bedroom eyes and found him in their fabled stare.

"Mi Tesoro," she said, sickeningly sweet, "I knew you'd come."

He smiled at her subtly. "You gonna invite me in?"

"Oh, of course, Mi Amor," she said huskily, "you're always welcome."

She shifted out of his way and he stepped inside. He took a quick look around. Her apartment wasn't big, but none of them were in that neighborhood. He should know—it was his neighborhood, after all.

"So tell me, darling," she began, closing the door, the faint click of the lock following, "why the sudden change of heart?"

He looked over at her and shrugged nonchalantly. "You were right, I was just upset. I wasn't being fair to you… I'm sorry ."

She smiled, flashing a hint of victory. "I forgive you," she said, walking toward her prize. "Now why don't you let me heal you, Mi Amor." She placed her hands on his chest, a sinful look in her eye. "I promise, baby, I'm gonna take good care of you now."

He brought his hands to her face and smiled, cradling it as she closed her eyes, leaning in to seal her prey's fate. Only Dick had other plans.

His hand slid to the back of her neck and his face hardened to stone. His grip on her became cold and tight as he suddenly conjured an unnecessary amount of strength. Channeling every ounce of hatred, every violation, and every last bit of fear he held for her. He threw her, face first, into the high table beside them. She collided with the object with a violent force, the tempered glass surface cracking, and her wine glass shattering as it hit the the tile. She collapsed to the floor, blood pouring from her nose and into her mouth. She lifted her head, her body still in shock, as a rough hand tangled itself in her hair and pulled her motionless body around to face him.

He knelt down, hovering over her with an infuriated look in his eyes. She tried to look away from him, but he gripped her jaw and forced her to stare in his direction. She was going to hear this, whether she wanted to or not.

"If you so much as cast a shadow in my fucking direction, I will finish this job," he growled in a low voice. "As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me, Catalina—and I never wanna see your fucking face again! Got it?!"

She whimpered a little and nodded, but refused to cry in front of him, as though she could keep some sense of dignity if she didn't.

"Bitch," he huffed in her face, a faint spray of saliva hitting her cheek with a hateful breath.

He released her heartlessly and got up, storming out of her apartment as quickly as he'd struck her. She heard the door slam shut, cutting the last tie left between them. She flinched at the sound, like it hurt, and began to cry. She was finally afraid of him; she didn't have any power left to play. She had lost him, for good this time.

Dick threw on his hood, stepping out onto the street and into the cool night air. The wind had subsided and for the first time in a year, he felt his stomach calm. He didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder anymore. The bleeding in his chest had finally quelled.

He couldn't change what had happened to him, and he couldn't change what happened in the wake of it all. But he could change who he became as a result of it all. He knew he wouldn't be cured overnight, but he knew, in time, he'd be fine again. He could move on now. He could finally breach the surface and breathe—he could live. And for that, he could find enough strength to embrace the tomorrows and move out of the yesterdays.

The air somehow smelled sweeter—cleaner, even. Like the smoke had lifted, and the fires burned out, no longer hindering his senses. He could see beyond the rubble to a path beyond the ruins. He took a deep breath, taking the cold air in like it was the first time he'd ever done so.

Clarity, he thought, feeling the ground beneath his feet again, the world indeed still there. He wasn't afraid anymore. He wasn't waiting for some unspeakable thing to pull him into its undertaking. No. For the first time in so long, he was free of her. Free from her hold and presence, and more importantly, free of her memory.

He couldn't taste her anymore.

#nightwing #nightwing comic #nightwing fanfiction #devin grayson #nightwing 93 #rape #male rape #rose wilson #rose wilson fanfiction #Teen Titans #Titans #batfam #catalina flores #dick grayson #dick grayson fanfiction #dick and catalina

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zig-a-zow · 6 years

Text

As told by Aiden [Chapter 4: Watching and waiting]

Summary: Aiden Zhou had everything figured out. He was a Junior at high school, he would graduate in two years, attend a prestigious school such as Juilliard and become the best musician he could be. Of course, despite being practically a prodigy at what he loved, he had a lot to learn yet, especially the most important lesson: there was more to life than what he once thought.

Pairings: Aiden x MC (Grace Ashton)

Word count: 2826

Notes: Hello there! What is this, you might be asking yourself? Well, nothing other than what the title says: High School Story as told by Aiden. The events from the book, but from his perspective, plus extra scenes/fanon lore. There are significant changes in this story, though. For once, I have two MCs, best friends Grace and Callie. However, one of them will be significantly more prominent due to being Aiden’s love interest. Also, each chapter has its own song, cause how could I write about Aiden without music included? Click the lyrics to listen.

Taglist: @mlmseangayle @ravenclawpokegirl25 @poofboopmew @apluschoices

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 (It’s right here!) - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7 - Ch. 8 (Coming soon!)

Oh, you capture my attention

Carefully listening

Don’t wanna miss a thing

Keeping my eyes on you

He had been staring at his phone’s screen until its light stopped illuminating his face, and he could see his reflection on the glass.

The screen came to life again with a single tap of his finger, as he immediately deleted the message he had written but not sent.

Was he really going to text Grace? Right now, while laying in bed, unable to sleep?

It probably wasn’t a good idea, he told himself. They had been talking all night, and even if she seemed pretty… interested in him, maybe it was a little too much to talk to her now.

Plus, she was probably already asleep, like a normal person at 5:00am.

Aiden sighed deeply, leaving his phone on his bedside table and pulling his blankets to cover his whole body in a futile attempt to rest at least a few hours.

Next morning, he had a raging headache and wished he could stay in bed all day. Or maybe all week. All month…?

Begrudgingly he got out of bed, and left his house hoping for a little bit of quietness at school.

Which he didn’t find.

“Aiden! AIDEN, HOLY SH–!”

“Myra, language” he simply said, waiting until his friend reached their usual table at the cafeteria.

“You’re not gonna BELIEVE what happened today at homeroom!” she exclaimed as she sat across from him, a big grin of joy adorning her face. “Come on, ask me what happened!”

He sighed.

“What happened, Myra?”

“Okay, so Grace and Callie are sitting in the front with Caleb, right? And suddendly Brian comes in and starts acting like a jerk, so Caleb is fed up and they both get up, like, they’re gonna fight!” she started narrating, her hands gesturing as she spoke. “And Brian goes and punches Caleb when he’s distracted! And Grace is all like ‘Oh, no you didn’t!’, so she goes and…!”

Her hand turned into a fist, and she punched the air with a smile.

“BAM! Right in the face! And he almost falls on his back! It was hi-lar-i-ous!”

Aiden listened in silence, an expression of astonishment displaying on his face. He tried to imagine Grace, petite and dainty Grace, punching the school’s quarterback so hard that she made him stumble. It was surprisingly easy to picture.

“So Callie is all like ’Oooh nooo, don’t fight!’, and grabs Grace before Brian can hit back, and Vice Principal Isa came in right then! And she took them ALL to the Principal’s office! HOW COOL IS THAT?!”

“Pretty cool, if you ask me” they both turned to Ezra when they heard his voice, just as he took a seat beside Myra, grinning. “Yep, everyone’s talking about it. I think Morgan recorded it all, I hope she uploads it to MyTube soon.”

“Oooh, man! Why didn’t I think of recording it…?!”

“Wait a minute… are you two celebrating this?”

At his words, Myra and Ezra exchanged glances briefly before turning to look at him again, stunned expressions on their faces.

“Well, she did punch the biggest jerk at Berry High, so…”

“… of course we’re celebrating, you dummy! Here’s a better question, why aren’t you?!”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t condone violence in any way, shape or form?” he replied to Myra’s rhetorical question with one of his own. “What Grace did was wrong, no matter how justified you might think it was. She lowered herself to his level, it’s as simple as that.”

Ezra smirked at that.

“Okay, you tell her that.”

“What…?”

“Hey guys” Grace’s voice startled him as she took a seat right beside him. She gave him a quizzical look before turning to the others, grimacing at their smiling faces. “Don’t tell me…”

“Aaah! Grace, you were so awesome!” Myra almost bounced out of her seat with excitement, her voice a squeal. “Remind me not to mess with you!”

“Oh, and Aiden has something to tell you” Ezra smirked mischievously, nodding his way as if to give him the word. “What was that you were saying right now…?”

“I, uh…”

Aiden stammered for a few seconds, suddenly feeling all his confidence and resolution go down the metaphorical drain. To his surprise, Grace barely turned to him with a tired expression.

“I heard him. What I did was wrong, I lowered myself to that idiot’s level. He’s right” she mumbled, casting her gaze toward the table in shame. She let out a long sigh of resignation. “Don’t get me wrong, he deserved it. And I’m not gonna lie, it felt good. But guess who was almost suspended and is now stuck on Homecoming committee?”

She half-heartedly pointed to herself with her thumbs.

“This girl.”

A moment of silence reigned between them, and Aiden took a good look at the girl beside him. She looked somehow smaller than before, and genuinely remorseful. He raised his hand a few centimeters, tempted to place it on her shoulder, before Ezra spoke again.

“Sorry, Grace. We didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything” he said with a soft tone, and Myra nodded silently by his side, a rare serious expression on her face. “It’s just, what you did today? It was great, even if it got you in trouble. You wanna know why? ‘Cause that guy always thought he was untouchable, he could do whatever he wanted, but guess what? He can’t, 'cause people like you are out there putting jerks like him in their places. So chin up, queen. You did good.”

Grace looked up at that, her dark eyes shinning slightly as a tiny smile started to appear on her face. Myra rounded the table to sit by her side and give her a quick hug, smiling encouragingly.

“That’s more like it! We’re not saying you should go around punching every person that looks at you the wrong way… though honestly, that would be pretty cool” she started, before catching herself, shaking her head quickly. “But seriously… giving the Brians of the world a reason to count their teeth? Yes, please!”

Just then, the bell rang. Several people started abandoning the cafeteria, and that included them as well.

“Thanks for the pep talk, guys” said Grace with a little smile, shrugging slightly. “I guess this could be worse…”

Aiden remained silent. He had heard lots of stories about how Maria Flores, his classmate and the person in charge of Homecoming committee, was like as a leader. They all agreed in the fact that she could be utterly terrifying.

But somehow he had a feeling that Grace would be able to handle it just fine. At least he hoped so.

A growing feeling of discomfort didn’t leave him alone for the rest of the day.

Aiden couldn’t help but feel guilty about the way he had spoken before. He dreaded the idea that his words could’ve hurt Grace’s feelings in any way. So he needed to talk to her so he could… apologize? He wasn’t really sure of what to do, but he had to do something.

He didn’t see Grace again until it was time for him to finally leave the school. He had just walked out of the band room after practice, and was approaching his locker when he could hear her cheerful voice calling his name.

“Oh, hey! Look, it’s Aiden!”

When he turned around, he could see her approaching quickly with a grin and a cupholder full of milkshakes, Maria following her at a moderate pace and clearly not as excited.

“Grace, we can’t stay for too long…”

“I know, I know! Just wanted to say hi!” she replied with a brief laugh, turning to him again. “Hi!”

“Hey… what are you doing here?” he mumbled as his eyes fell on the cupholder significantly.

“Homecoming committee… we had to go and get something to eat 'cause we all got hungry halfway through.”

Aiden was about to say something when he could hear Maria huffing at a prudent distance from them, probably unaware of him noticing her gesture of impatience. He sighed.

“It seems like you’re busy… but I need to talk to you” he admitted as he finally reached his locker, placing a few books inside. “It’s… moderately important.”

“Oooh, you got me at 'moderately’!” Grace had a playful smile on her face, so he wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not. “Tell you what, I’ll hit you up as soon as I’m able, okay?”

“Grace…”

“I’m coming!”

Grace winked before she walked away and joined Maria, who clearly was growing impatient by the minute. She turned around once with a smile.

“Talk to you later!”

“Yes, talk to you later!” repeated Maria as they both started to walk away, and seemingly realized what she had said a few second later. “Why did I say that? I’m not going to talk to him later!”

Grace laughed loudly as they reached a corner, and Aiden was barely able to hear them anymore.

“Don’t laugh, it’s not funny…!”

“But it’s super cute…!”

Aiden stopped for a second before closing his locker, his gaze directed toward the corner where the pair of girls had disappeared from view. He frowned slightly. Had he heard that right?

Had Grace called Maria cute?

'No. She thought what she said was cute. In a funny way’ he told himself as he shrugged, hanging his backpack on his shoulder. 'But what if it was… in a flirty way?’

Well, if that was the case, it was okay. Because Grace had the right to flirt with whoever she wanted, and he had no say in that matter, obviously.

He knew all of that, and still, he wasn’t able to erase that frown from his features.

He had patiently waited for Grace to call, but she didn’t.

At first he thought nothing of it, and distracted himself with simple tasks like composing a short piece for violin and making small talk with his parents while having dinner.

But as the night progressed, he started to feel… something.

At first, he was worried. Was she okay? Maybe something bad had happened. He contemplated calling her himself to check, but what if she was simply busy and his call was unwelcome?

Then he was somewhat disappointed. Maybe she just had forgotten, which was completely plausible.

Or maybe she was talking with Maria instead.

Aiden huffed as he finished drying his longish hair with a towel after a shower, as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He frowned, though he wasn’t sure why.

He made his way back to his room and let himself fall on his bed with a soft thud, staring at the ceiling for a few moments.

He could feel his tired eyes give in after minute or two, and drifted to sleep.

Aiden wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but his phone rang on his bedside table and startled him. He grabbed it, half asleep, and let out a sleepy groan.

“You have to be kidding me…”

It seemed like Grace had decided that calling him almost at midnight was a good idea.

He felt tempted to ignore her call and resume his much needed sleeping… but he couldn’t do that. Well, he actually could, if it were Ezra or even Myra.

But seeing Grace’s name and face in his screen was somehow enough for him accept the call.

“Hello…?”

“Hey! Did I wake you up?!”

“Mhm.”

“Ohmygod, I’m so sorry!” Grace’s voice sounded a bit hushed, as if she were trying to keep quiet and failing. “I didn’t mean to, but I just now found a moment to myself.”

Aiden yawned as he sat down on his bed, rubbing the sleep out of his tired eyes in an attempt to fully wake up.

“Why?” he muttered, his voice a bit hoarse from sleeping. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah… I mean… well, Emma did something really dumb and brave today and needed some cheering up, so I had the brilliant idea of staying up with her and Callie for a while” Grace explained with a sigh, sounding tired as well. “I didn’t expect Emma to stay for so long. Her mom came to get her like twenty minutes ago.”

“And Callie?”

“She’s sleeping on the floor. I don’t know how she does it, to be honest.”

Aiden nodded slowly before remembering she couldn’t see him at the moment. He sighed deeply.

“Sorry, I can hang up if you…”

“No, I mean… I’m already awake” he mumbled, and it was only half a lie. “I might as well say what I wanted to say. It’s about what happened today.”

“A lot happened today” she pointed out, matter-of-factly. “Are you talking about me punching Brian or…?”

“Yes. Partially. Mostly about what I said later on, at lunch.”

Grace remained silent, and all he could hear for a few seconds was her calm breathing. He knew she was waiting for him to explain further, but couldn’t help finding the soft sounds oddly relaxing.

He shook his head, feeling himself blush.

“I meant to apologize, Grace. I was out of line.”

“For stating your opinion?”

“For the way I worded it, I suppose” Aiden looked up at the ceiling yet again, suddenly feeling like he didn’t really know what to say. “I felt… guilty afterwards. I did not mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Aw, Aiden… you didn’t. Really” she assured immediately, and he could almost hear the smile on her face as she spoke. “You were right. And it’s okay.”

“Maybe so, but…”

“If it makes you feel better… then I accept your unnecessary apology.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the tone of her voice and the emphasis of her words. Her soft laughter made him smile.

“Thank you, Grace.”

“Don’t mention it. I guess I should let you sleep now” she muttered then, and he could hear the mischief in her voice. “Even though I don’t really want to.”

Aiden let himself slide in his bed until he was again resting on his back, and repressed a yawn. He was really tired, but the conversation was getting more interesting by the minute.

“Is that so?” he could also hear a rare glimpse of confidence as he spoke, and assumed it was only because she couldn’t see his blushing face. “May I know why?”

“I dunno. I really like the sound of your voice. It’s… deep but also soft? Like a constant whisper… if that makes any sense.”

Suddenly all that confidence he was building up once again drained faster than it had arrived. He swallowed hard, feeling his face burn red with embarrassment.

“Oh. Um… thank you? I think… uh…”

Grace giggled at that.

“You’re blushing.”

“N-No, I’m not.”

“You’re totally blushing. That’s cute.”

’Cute’.

Suddenly Aiden felt the need to hang up without any warning, and just go back to sleep, possibly with a frown.

But that would be too immature for him, so he sighed.

“I really should go back to sleep now” he said then, and he noticed that his voice sounded more serious now.

She noticed as well.

“Uh… sure. Of course. Have a good night, Aiden.”

And there it was again, that sting of guilt he hated so much. He sighed, his tone softening slightly.

“Good night, Grace.”

They both hung up at the same time, and as he was setting his phone aside, Aiden came to have an epiphany of sorts.

No matter how hard he was trying to deny it, it was very clear now.

He was jealous.

And he hated it.

Oh, you capture my attention

I’m anticipating

I’m watching and waiting

For you to make your move

Got me on my toes

Chapter 4 is up!

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Remember that I can add you to my taglist if you want me to, so you don’t miss any update!

As always, feedback is appreciated and encouraged! Thanks for reading!

#playchoices #high school story #hss #aiden zhou #aiden x mc #maria flores #myra khandaar #ezra mitchell #hss mc (grace ashton)#zig writes #fghfjjgv #i like how this came out #💖#thanks for your patience btw #ok bye #long post

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sol1056 · 6 years

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the consequences of unexplored implications

One of the hardest things to do in writing (above and beyond all the regular hard things) is recognizing the unexplored implications. Some of these can be more obvious with some simple stats: how many characters are male vs female? how many white characters get speaking parts or are named, vs how many non-white?

Others take a bit more thought, like realizing the only female characters are unnamed prostitutes, or the only Hispanic characters are janitors. Sometimes it means untangling a well-meaning attempt to subvert a racist trope (ie uncivilized/inferior primitives) that actually ended up unwittingly in a completely different but equally racist trope (ie the noble savage).

And then there’s a really tricky one to realize, that at least in my experience needs a big-picture view of the entire story. Only then can you see how seemingly independent parts, when overlapped, result in unfortunate implications.

It’s this last one that I’m starting to twig on, in VLD. And it comes from a combination of a particularly pernicious trope in American media, the canonical relationship between Keith and Shiro, and the purpose of repetition in stories.

the bury your gays trope

Basically, this trope shows up when a story establishes a happy queer relationship, and immediately decides one of the two must die.

Often, especially in older works (to the extent that they are found in older works, of course), gay characters just aren't allowed happy endings. Even if they do end up having some kind of relationship, at least one half of the couple, often the one who was more aggressive in pursuing a relationship, thus "perverting" the other one, has to die at the end. ... Nowadays, when opinions on sexuality have shifted somewhat, this justification will often be attempted via Too Good for This Sinful Earth. Sometimes it's because the Magical Queer has died in a Heroic Sacrifice so that the straights may live.

(Also, for some reason, it’s a particular favorite to have one-half of a lesbian couple killed by a stray bullet. Google it.)

Honestly, this trope is so pervasive, it’s damn hard watching popular media. You end up constantly braced for the inevitable death (sometimes followed by the surviving partner going totally evil, a la Willow in BtVS). Well, unless the relationship is toxic or controlling, and then the implication is that het relationships are the only healthy ones, but that’s a slightly different trope.

In short: if you’re queer, happy endings are not for you. And if you do manage to get a happy ending (ie Bill in Dr Who), you had to suffer ten times as much as anyone else to get there. Compared to het relationships in the same story, it’s always the queer couples that suffer the most. One way or another.

canonical and word-of-god Shiro/Keith

Assumption: Keith and Shiro have an emotional bond much deeper than any couple we’ve seen on-screen. The very least one could say is that they have a deep relationship, albeit presumably platonic. (I should also note that I do consider ‘platonic’ love to be an equal to ‘romantic’ love; it’s just a different type of consummation.)

Apart from that, there’s word-of-god: the EPs’ comments (ie “beloved mentor”), VA interviews, and various directors/artists posting sheith images with romantic vibes. Yes, that’s all non-canonical, but the message is: if you read this platonic as simply pre-romantic, well, the series’ creators are there with you.

I will note, I don’t consider this as representation. In canon or it doesn’t count! (Looking at you, Rowling.) Still, word-of-god is clearly impacting the fandom’s interpretations of the relationship.

using repetition in stories

The try/fail cycle and repetition have a core element in common: an event repeats until the character learns what they need to achieve victory/resolution. The difference is that in try/fail, the character should move up each time. In repetition, the character must re-experience a lesson they failed the first time.

To compare:

try/fail: the antagonist has a black belt! get white belt, challenge antagonist, fail. okay, green belt! challenge antagonist, fail. next belt!

repetition: the antagonist has a black belt! test for white belt, fail. test for white belt again, fail. test for white belt again...

When the overall plot’s try/fail is too similar, readers will see the protagonist as too stupid to quit (or change tactics). Repetition works best as a recurring motif: event A, parallel event B, character learns and changes, we have development, and this happens in support of, or alongside, the plot’s try/fail cycle.

Example: if Lance were to flirt with ten different girls and they all shot him down, that’s try/fail. His development is via repetition: it’s a repeating pattern with Allura, until he learns to take a different approach.

Here’s the important thing: like try/fail, repetition is a lesson to be learned. Most readers assume repetition means the previous instances were failures. If the character does the exact same thing and this time it goes beautifully, expect some side-eying from your more astute readers.

But at the same time, if the character had no control over the outcome in previous instances, expect frustration instead. Readers will intuit the story is indulging in a kind of victim-blaming: the character had no power to ‘do it right’ before, yet the repetition implies that failure was their fault.

And that brings us to how these three parts, combined, make me see some seriously unfortunate implications in VLD.

all three together

So we have sort of this gray-area kinetic-platonic, potential-romantic, relationship. And twice now, one-half of that relationship has been, well, not killed, but sort of killed. Gone, vanished. The other half is left behind, grieving. It’s implied Keith fell apart the first time, and then we got to see it on-screen, the second time.

It doesn’t actually matter whether S3/S4 Shiro is the ‘real’ one. If he’s not, then we have a third loss. If he is -- but compromised as a tool of the empire -- then it’s still a loss, if a psychological one. He’s there, it’s just not... him, anymore.

In other words, three times that a potential-queer relationship has been put through a Kill Your Gays maneuver that ended up being just a ploy.

Done once, it could’ve been a subversion of the trope. Aha, the writers could say, we didn’t kill anyone, instead, we brought him back! Yes, one-half of the couple (and later, we find out, both halves) suffered during the separation, but since that’s mostly backstory, it’s all good, they’re happy now. Carry on, Jeeves.

Done twice, the writers not only re-triggered a possible KYG interpretation, they also tripped over the issue of repetition. Remember, the repetition is a lesson -- something must be learned, to prevent its recurrence.

The problem is removing Shiro leaves Keith to experience the aftermath. By default, he takes the protagonist’s role, and according to the literary convention, he has to learn something to prevent a repeat. But in neither instance -- the Kerberos mission, or Shiro’s disappearance from Black -- does the story give any indication that Keith had a direct impact on the outcome. He did nothing to cause either, therefore there’s nothing he could feasibly do to fix either.

That makes it especially infuriating that the third time around, one could conceivably say: gee, Keith kept looking, until he found this not-Shiro. If not-Shiro does any damage, that can be traced back to Keith.

On its own, that could be an interesting dilemma. Taken in light of repetition, not so good. The unfortunate implication is he should’ve learned from the previous two times, and his failure to do so is the reason he ended up here.

what’s the lesson, then?

Is it: stop caring for this person? Is it: loving someone that much means you have to suffer? Is it: you can’t just be happy? Is it: if you want to try for happiness, you have to earn the right to it?

How is it that Lance can just flirt, make peace, and develop a deep friendship with Allura -- and neither are forced to undergo repeated trauma in the process? Or that Pidge has just one scene of implied loss, and it’s over and resolved in the same episode? Yet meanwhile Keith -- the only one with a same-sex relationship of significant depth -- has to lose, and lose, and lose?

Maybe the writers figured: well, it’s not really death, it doesn’t count, let’s go ahead and yank that chain a second and third time. The story is blind to how their plot-twists aren’t all that better. It's still the same old bullshit: if you’re queer, you don’t get the happy ending. And if you do, it can’t be the simple meet-like-love of a het relationship. You’ve got to suffer for it.

But the story they’ve written, and the choices they’ve made, tell me: these implications are not on their radar. Worse, I end up feeling like they don’t care enough to even put it on their radar.

That’s why it really bothers me when the EPs say they’re pushing for queer representation. Because if the writers can’t even see the implications of doing this to a deeply caring platonic relationship between two people of the same gender, like hell if I want to see what they’d do to an actual, onscreen, queer relationship.

If you are rising up right now to insist ‘this is what the story demanded!’, I strongly recommend you go read this post: this is a jar full of major characters. Yes, that post is talking about black characters vs white, but it goes for any marginalized group, including lgbtqia.

Bottom line: no story demands anything. You’re the goddamn writer; you control the story. If you write shit, you’re a shitty writer.

Think harder. Dig deeper. Do better.

#writing #voltron legendary defender #analysis #tropes #queer media #sol thinks about stuff

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rimurutempest · 4 years

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I have no shame, so I’m posting another writing assignment for you all to either laugh at or ignore, your call.

Here’s the prompt:

“ Class ... Richard Matheson adapted I Am Legend for the bigscreen in the early 1960s. He so hated the changes made to his script that he asked to have his name removed from it. The movie, titled The Last Man on Earth and starring Vincent Price, is available to be watched on YouTube. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=feQIhzNpBLQ) After you watch the movie, write a three page (700-800 word) response focusing on the changes made. Pick 3-5 significant changes made and describe them. Discuss whether the change was a good, bad or horrific choice. You may want to rank your choices such as the 5 worst changes in order or the best 3 changes. Discuss what effect each change had on the story as a whole. You don’t need to do any research for this paper. I want to read your own thoughts on this movie.

Because we will begin next Wednesday’s class discussing the movie and the changes, you need to email your papers to me by 6:15 October 7, 2020. Journals submitted after that cannot be accepted.

Cut and paste your essays into the body of the email. Don’t attach them or send me links to Googledocs or any similar site.

Enjoy the film.”

and here’s my scorching hot take of 1200+ words:

I was looking forward to watching a classic Vincent Price film, full of playfully eerie campiness, but The Last Man on Earth didn't hold up to my expectations. It's not the first time I've seen Price play a villain, but the mood of this story just didn't seem to suit him. While I didn't love the book, the movie honestly sat with me even worse. I cant blame Matheson for hating it. My distaste for his writing, and the biases I noticed therein, stem from my personal conviction that it's crucially important to consume media critically and examine what messages are being conveyed, overtly, subtly, intentionally, or otherwise. As I mentioned in class, there were a fair many flaws that I found troublesome, but I absolutely acknowledge and appreciate the overall influence I Am Legend had on vampire – and in a broader sense, both sci-fi and horror – fiction. I deeply enjoy thorough world building and attention to detail, and I personally am very invested in plausible scientific explanations for fantasy tropes. The book delved into most of those details in a sensible way, but the film left much of them unaddressed, and that was disappointing to say the least.

The Last Man on Earth started out following the book well enough at first, some small details were changed, but none too important. These details were understandable given the limitations of the era, and didn't detract from the introduction to the post apocalyptic setting. Our main character, Robert Neville, has had his name changed to Robert Morgan. The movie started out with the 3 yr time skip, which happened a ways into the source material, contrary to the 1 year since the plague hit and 5 months we're told Robert spent surviving alone. There are significantly less sexy vampire women posing outside at night, and significantly less of Robert being insufferably horny as a result. The film also censored his alcoholism almost entirely, shaving a great many key events from the book.

In the film, vampires react to Robert during the day, albeit groggily and helplessly, whereas in the book they were fully catatonic and unresponsive, apart from a subdued dying gasp in some cases. On that note, there seem to be no vampire sub-types, all are apparently either fully alive or fully dead, and it is unclear which is the case. When Robert visited the mausoleum to mourn Virginia, there was no vampire to fry, and thus he didn't learn anything regarding exposure to sunlight. Instead he fell asleep in the mausoleum, rather than leaving to test effects of the sun on vampires further. His nap is also what leads to his returning home late, instead of a broken watch, and it's already night as he leaves the crypt, compared to night falling during the drive home. Robert's struggle to get into his house is quite different: there is no using his car as a decoy, no garage scene with Ben, no forgotten keys to retrieve, and no follow-up drunken shooting and punching after getting inside safely, just Robert plowing through the vampires recklessly, both bodily and with his car, until he's safely inside for the night.

The deviations from the source material are now piling up faster than I can count. Robert has his flashback to the plague days after watching home movies – not a detail from the book – and it starts much earlier, towards the onset of the plague. He is revealed to have been a scientist directly assigned to researching the plague, versus a former soldier working at an unspecified plant – I assume an electric plant, but nuclear would also be entirely plausible. The flashback continues, showing the events of the past all in one go, rather than being disbursed throughout multiple reflections over the course of the story proper. Movie Robert did not follow protocol to willingly burn Kathy, instead he actually fought authorities to retrieve her remains, unsuccessfully. The religious fanaticism and effects of religious paraphernalia are not really addressed, either.

The film is now so removed from the book, events are much harder to sync up – some events from the book don't happen at all, some happen out of sequence, and even still, some events in the film were not in the book in the first place. Movie Robert never seems to test the allyl essential oil, let alone isolate it, or sunlight at all for some reason. He doesn't work to gradually gain the dog's trust in the film, just chases it, gives up, then finds it outside his house shortly thereafter, suddenly offering its full trust. The topic of suicide vs continued, bleak survival is not explored. Film Robert also just flat out doesn't try to cure the dog and stakes it himself. In the book, it's implied he kept trying until it died, a week later, where it's unclear if he finished it off, or if it merely died of its infection and stayed dead. The differing ways the disease affects non human animals aren't really detailed in either media. Ruth appears immediately after the dog.

The entire Ruth encounter is vastly altered, with the whole sequence taking place within one night. Honestly, book Ruth was somehow more suspicious than this woman over all, perhaps because there is more time in which to build tension. The whole damn interaction is a mess in the film: somehow simultaneously nothing happens, and everything left in the story happens all at once in a jumbled up mess. Movie Ruth is never intimate with Robert, never knocks him out, never leaves to plead his case, leaves no note...Also I guess we have an answer to the earlier mystery, in that all vampires are actually alive? Meanwhile, rather than pills, the new vampires use a serum injection via syringe, and Ruth doesn't even remotely try to be subtle and sneaky about taking it, getting caught immediately by Robert.

Cue a very weird standoff followed by a sudden declaration of love? The so-called romance between Ruth and Robert wasn't half believable in the book either, but who the hell was supposed to believe that happened after the movie's sequence of kidnapping, shouting match, repeated physical assault, and like, a max of 5 minutes interacting...? Heteros are truly sick in the head, it must be rough. Now we've got a ridiculously unsafe blood transfer that instantly cures Ruth. Cue painfully stupid chase scene, featuring Ruth still simping for Robert in a downright offensively pathetic manner. Turns out bullets work on vampires in the film I guess. This ending begs the question: if all vampires are alive, why are they killing the ones with no serum? Also why did the women and children just like, suddenly file into that church in the middle of the chase-scene-slash-gun-fight? That was so weird. The poison tablets were obviously left out, since the whole scene just went off the rails anyway. Robert's parting title drop is omitted, presumably since the film didn't use the book title anyway. So many things left unaddressed, so many unanswered questions...What even happened to Ruth after that? Did she like, use her new antibodies to cure everyone else or did they kill her for simping crimes? Did she just...leave? When are we getting The Last Woman on Earth sequel film?

#back to school adventures #art is a breeze #i am legend #richard matheson #the last man on earth #vincent price #vampires #this professor really fuckin loves vamps but he's got such bad takes and such bad taste #and here i am to make this semester hell #an interesting hell but still #he doesnt know im just constantly making fun of him its kind of sad #i gotta oppress him though #please dont drag me for the simp comments im being entirely facetious and i never picked up using the term myself #my professor is just an old white catholique man and i have to trip him up at every opportunity

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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👑🏰⚔️🐲 DMODT 79 - update

When morning came, it was to the sound of tolling bells. Exhausted from Viren's cries, Eren had tried everything he could think of to hush his unhappy pup, yet nothing had seemed to work. Levi looked just as frazzled, having too tried to lure the pup to sleep only for it to have failed. Now the constant ringing had ruined his last hope that Viren would finally drift off from crying himself to sleep. Sighing deeply, Eren rocked Viren as he paced back and forth. He couldn't remember a morning when the town's bells had rung so insistently. Did they even have a reason to be ringing? Levi looked ready to find whoever was responsible for the racket and throw them off the bell tower. The poor alpha had decided that if Eren was staying awake with Viren, he should too... which ruined Eren's plan of swapping roles if Viren failed to calm. It wasn't their first sleepless night due to Viren's lack of lyrical talents since becoming parents but in the castle there was always someone to swap with, namely Armin, who was happy for cuddles even with the crying. In this city, and in this inn, he didn't feel comfortable enough to let his son out of his sight or Levi's hold. Eren's internal musings were disturbed by a crashing noise coming from the room next door. The sound accompanied by Armin swearing, Mikasa scolding, another loud thud then footsteps, before ending with a knock on their bedroom door. Levi's groan as he climbed off their bed summed up Eren's feelings over the morning, he didn't even have the energy to tell his mate that it was only Mikasa and Armin on the other side of their door. Crying even louder, Eren hushed his pup... not that worked, but at least he was trying, while having a whole new appreciation for what his mother had gone through when he was a child. Letting Armin and Mikasa into the room, Levi retook his place on the bed next to the blanket shaped lump that was Luca. Their son really didn't appreciate Viren's strong lungs. Turning face his friends tiredly, Eren smiled thinly, knowing that he had to human now they had visitors in their room. Walking over to them, Armin smiled at Viren as he wiggled his fingers towards him despite the pup's eyes being tightly scrunched closed "How's my favourite little man?" "Unhappy" "Awww... do you want me to hold him? How long's he been crying?" Had Armin really not heard? Eren could have murdered him on the spot "All night. At least 6 hours..." "Have you tried feeding him?" No. He hadn't tried anything of the sort. He hadn't tried feeding him. He hadn't tried bath time. He hadn't tried exercises in case Viren had to poop and was struggling. He'd tried skin to skin contact, and double checked that his son wasn't suffering nappy rash. He's even tried a little healing magic but there was nothing there to heal. The poor pup had exhausted himself into the point of "hysteria". He hadn't tried anything of the sort "Yeah... pretty much everything. The bells aren't helping either" "They woke me up... let me take him. I'm sure he'll settle for Uncle Armin" Not really wanting to hand his pup over, Levi was quick to agree before calling Eren over to sit in his lap. Viren continuing to cry as Armin hushed and rocked him. Eren letting his head drop against Levi's shoulder as he internally smirked. It was relieving that Viren hadn't settled immediately, not that he didn't want his son to rest, as it showed it wasn't anything he'd done or hadn't done "Armin, you're not settling him" Glaring at Mikasa, Armin moved Viren to his shoulder "He won't settle. This is the unhappiest I've seen him since he was reunited with Eren and Levi" "Let me try" "No. I've got him. Besides, you don't deserve cuddles. Do you know what she did this morning? I woke up to find a sword at my throat. Apparently I lack special awareness, then, when she finally goes to help me up she trips me. Hear what your Aunty did to me Viren?" Mikasa snorted, smiling too widely for the hour of the morning. Closing his eyes Eren let Levi wrap his arms around his waist as the alpha's before the alpha's hands settled to rest on his own. Levi's pain bled through their bond, Eren sure the man was sporting a headache at least the size of his own "It wasn't that bad. He was already mumbling in his sleep before the bells started. I simply thought it'd be interesting to see how he reacted" "You try waking to a sword to your throat... How long do you think these bells are going to keep ringing? And why are they ringing? Is it some kind of custom here? To annoy visitors with a million bells the moment the sun rises?" Levi's breath was warm against his neck as the alpha replied "I don't think so. To toll the bells this many times is either in celebration, which I think we would have heard about ahead of time, or something major has happened" Groaning as his brain tried to kick in, Eren pinched the bridge of his nose. It was far too tempting to sleep, and now his eyes didn't want to open again "You think something's happened?" "I'm not sure. It was rare for the bells of Mitras to ring. Erwin found the noise grating after the first half dozen or so rings. Eventually he managed to have the bell ringing cancelled for the most part. So yes, I do think something has happened" Kissing his temple, Levi's left hand soon abandoned his to move to his forehead "You're warm" "It's nothing. Just a lack of sleep" "I'm grateful he doesn't have the same issues with his lungs as you do, but he is just as tone deaf as you are. And he only seems to know one song" Growling, Eren didn't care if Levi was joking. He wasn't in the mood for humour "Don't be a dick to our baby. You might have your alpha senses, but I have dragon senses remember" "I know. You really should rest. Let us take care of..." "No. I'm his mother. I should be awake too" "Armin and Mikasa are here now..." Really? He didn't notice the presence or scent of his two friends... Levi was lucky he was too tired to snap at him "If you're staying awake, I'm staying awake. Luca probably needs to go to the bathroom too" "I'll take him. I assume he's the bundle in the bed?" Hearing he was talked about, Luca climbed out from under the sheets. His son looked miserable as he slunk across the bed to Mikasa. Reaching down she lifted him into her hold. It really wouldn't be long until he couldn't ask for cuddles anymore. Each time Eren thought that, he couldn't bring himself to stop trying. Luca was still a baby. His baby... His baby the size of a large dog now. God. He was growing up too fast "I'll take him to the bathroom. Maybe see about getting something to eat? How does that sound?" Luca chirped his agreement. Far too easily bought by food. Eren didn't want him out of his sights, but now Mikasa had promised food he couldn't say no "Thanks, Mikasa" Viren was still crying when Mikasa came back with Luca half an hour later. Accompanied by Freya and Steege, Levi tapped his arm then resorted to shaking him until Eren groaned at him "I'm sorry to disturb you. Especially after last night, and with your son being so upset, but there's been an incident. There are guards on the front step to take you both to the court" Last night? Did she mean Viren crying all night? "Did they say what happened?" "No. It seems to be something significant. The old man downstairs isn't happy, they threatened to come up and get you. He tried to explain you were a lovely young couple with your children... then had a shock when they informed him Eren was a prince" That sounded about right. The man was forgetful, but he was also a crack whip when it came to gossip. He would have fitted in rather nicely at the castle, and Eren couldn't deny he wouldn't mind bringing him back to Eldia. The man had children, but they'd all left to make their own way in life and never seemed to come back to visit him. It was all rather sad. He didn't live this long to be left alone at the end "I don't think Eren is in any condition to be up and walking around" If they court wanted them there, then there was no other choice "I'll be fine" "You're hardly fine" "Then what am I supposed to do, Levi? The world doesn't stop because Viren cried all night. It doesn't stop because my head feels like it's about to explode. If something's happened and they want us there, then we go. We go because that's what expected of us" "You're sick" "It doesn't matter how I feel. Viren needs to be dressed. We need to get dressed. Freya, can you please inform them that we're getting dressed and will be down shortly? I'll be bringing the children with me" "We'll be leaving the children here" Levi grabbed for his hip as Eren started sliding out his slap "We're not leaving then here" "Eren" "Don't fight me on this Levi" "Viren's upset. Luca has had enough. You're sick. And we're both exhausted. Mikasa and Armin can handle this for a few hours while we sort whatever they want out" "Of course we can. We don't mind" Armin's words betrayed the look of rising panic on his face given Viren hadn't settled "If something's happened, I want the kids with me. Now let me get up, we need to get ready to go. I don't want to cause a scene in front of the boys. I don't want them coming up here to drag us down there, and the longer you keep me in your hold, the angrier they're all going to be. So let me go" "Eren..." Taking Levi's hands off him, Eren was done. Something major was going on, they were being called in, and all Levi could think about was the fact he was a little feverish from a lack of sleep. There were more important things than his health. Like preventing his son's from having to suffer through another traumatic event. * The sight before then was absolutely revolting. Warned before they entered the room that it was best Luca didn't head in there with them, Eren brushed it off, and now his mate was severely regretting the decision. All it'd taken was look for Eren to be throwing up the dinner he'd eaten the night before while collapsing to the ground in a stunned heap. Laying on the cold stone slab, in one of the rooms deep beneath the courthouse, Willy's shirt was covered with blood which had gushed from man's mouth after having his tongue cut out and being left to bleed to death in the city's marketplace. He'd been found by one of the vendors preparing for the day ahead, hence the ringing of the town bells. In a similar state of shock, Levi wasn't completely sure what he felt at the sight. Three of the tribunal members had been waiting to show the unsuspecting pair the gruesome sight. It wasn't until they'd opened Willy's mouth to show them sight of the severed tongue that Eren had collapsed, and though he wanted to move to Eren's side to comfort him, he couldn't take his eyes off Willy's body. Surely Willy seeking them out, and this, couldn't be unrelated... He'd sought them out... If he hadn't been turned away, would Willy still be alive? He hadn't told Eren that Willy had visited. He hadn't had the chance, not with Viren crying all night. It'd been the last thing on his mind to tell him, and the last thing Eren needed after staying up with Viren. Whining for his alpha, Eren finally pulled his attention. Sinking down by his omega, Eren flinched when Levi's hand landed on his thigh, another small whine coming from between his parted lips. As tears rolled down Eren's cheeks, they shimmered with diamond shards. Willy wasn't worth Eren's tears. Let alone tears of such distress as to be diamond encrusted. Beginning to cough, his mate was working himself into internal panic "Come here, Sweet Boy" Levi couldn't gather him into his arms due to Viren on his shoulder, but Eren could move the few centimetres as Levi sat properly. Shaking like a leaf, Eren found his way into Levi's one armed hold. His breath hitching as he hid his face against Levi's shoulder "Is this my fault?" God. How could Eren think this was his fault? Fuck. He shouldn't have let "No. No, this is absolutely not your fault at all" "He... he's dead. They... cut out his tongue. I told him he needed to clean up his loose ends... They cut his tongue out!" "Eren, there's something I need to tell you. Willy came with a group of soldiers and money to see us last night. Freya woke me to tell me. He was put off by the innkeeper, and left. But she had the impression that there was something more to it all..." "He what?! Why didn't you tell me?" Cringing, Levi wished Eren hadn't yelled right in his ear "I was going to. Then Viren was upset, and we were called in here" "He... he wanted to see me? After I..." "Eren. The visit wasn't planned to be pleasant. The innkeeper told Freya as much. We think he intended to pay the old man off for access to our room, only he didn't count on him being scatter minded" "He might still be alive, if we'd... Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't you? You were awake all night. You were right there... and you..." "I was going to tell you. I promise I was going to tell you" "He's dead and the last thing I did was yell at him. I told him to stay away..." "Eren, he was murdered. Probably by the people he betrayed. Probably by those very loose ends from his attempt on your life. He doesn't deserve your tears, not after he tried to kill you. Not after what he put our family through. It's disgusting, but he's the one who brought this on himself" "He was still a person. He still had a family. Who cuts out a tongue and leaves the person to die?! Why didn't he try to get help?!" Hushing Eren softly, his mate really needed to stop yelling "I don't know. I don't know, Sweet Boy. But you need to calm down for me" "Calm down?! Someone fucking murdered him! I wanted him arrested! I wanted him to admit what he did, not for him to be murdered! There's no justice in death! And there's... there's no atonement either" Atonement. How could Willy have ever possibly atoned for what he'd done? He'd caused Eren's death. He'd caused the omega to die in his arms, and the loss of their third mate, who both of them were still mourning and suffering symptoms over. Willy could never have atoned for his sins, even if he'd spent the rest of his life in penance. The man had played a dangerous game in attempting to play both sides of the war. He'd brought this on himself, and now Levi was stuck piecing Eren back together yet again, because his mate cared too fucking much. How was that fair? How was this shit his to deal with? Swept away in the moment, and foggy from Eren's pain, Levi hadn't forgotten he was in the bowels of the courthouse, he had however forgotten that they had an audience. When one of the males began to speak, he found himself growling in an attempt to warn him off. Instead it led to Eren pushing himself back. The omega looked distraught as he wiped at his teary face "Prince Eren, have you composed yourself enough to talk?" The man wanted to talk? Eren was crying. Viren was crying. Luca was huddled up near the pair of them, probably terrified from all the scents in the air "Yes, your honour" "We called you here to enquire into whether you knew anything pertaining to the death of William Tybur. It's exceedingly obvious that you played no hand in the man's demise, however, you were witnessed arguing with him a few days ago. You accused him of partaking in the attempt against your life, correct?" "Y-yes, sir" "Explain yourself" Eren nodded, pulling himself to sit with his knees up and elbows resting against them. Levi thanked god his omega was wearing pants, because otherwise his mate would be exposing far too much for him to handle "The day you asked Levi and I to act as bait... I watched him. I watched his face. It was subtle, but the moment I laid eyes upon him I knew that he was involved. He looked... Willy looked displeased to see both Levi and I alive. There was also the way that he was the only one to make a huge fuss. I mean, yes, Magath did. But Willy... Willy honestly thought we were dead and that that was how it should be. It was all over his face. I couldn't stomach him. I couldn't stomach standing there with the man that tried to kill my family, so I left. I'm sorry for seeing so rude as to walk out of your court, but I didn't trust myself not to lose control of your magic. It can be rather temperamental, and I was suffering from the loss of our third mate, Obsydin. Honestly, this whole trial has been far more than I expected. A few days passed and, Levi and I were shopping with our sons. Because my magic blew up half the city, a lot of storeowners turned us away because Luca is a dragon. Willy sought us out to enquire over our health, and all I wanted to do was... honestly, I wanted to punch him. I was so upset over the treatment of Luca that he copped my bad mood. I told him to clean up his loose ends or it was going to come back to haunt him. I mean, I knew he was attempting to play both Levi and I, as well as Marley. For someone who was Zeke's close friend, Zeke never actually talked about him. Our marriage wasn't perfect. But Zeke tried. He tried when he found out I was pregnant and in his own way, he tried to stop Dina coming after me by taking me back to Eldia. He was worried about the baby, which I didn't know wasn't his at the time. He was always smiling. He was always too nice about things, and I lost it at him. I struck him in the face and told him to face his own sins. I wanted him... I wanted him to admit to organising to have my papers stolen as he knew about them all. He knew there were piles of them in my room, then they went missing. He knew someone attempted to murder me, and he was acting as if he was best friends with Marley, despite everything he said about them. He was supposed to be helping me abdicate the throne. I never wanted to go against Dina to claim control of Marley. I wanted her to pay for her crimes legally. I wanted her to understand that she ruined her son, and her country, by her actions and words. I wanted the same for Willy. But... I'm so sick of death. I'm sick of people suffering. I just want peace between Eldia, Marley, Draecia and the rest of the world. Levi just told me that Willy sought us out last night. Our son Viren has been crying all night, refusing to settle, so he kept it from me. Now I can't help but feel this is all my fault. I told him to... to take responsibility and now someone's cut his tongue out and left him to bleed to death. We don't know what happened to the maid. We don't know what Marley has planned. Dina doesn't care for any of those loyal to her... and it's... it's too much. I'm sorry, Your Honour. I know this isn't how a prince should act. But I didn't want to be a prince. I didn't want to be a dragon. I just wanted to be a normal person like everyone else and now so many people have been hurt and are suffering because Dina had me kidnapped to start a war that both Erwin and Zeke never wanted to begin with" With Eren's fiery soul it was easy to forget he was only 21. 21 and he'd already lost a clutch, lost a husband, lost a mate, lost his blood family, been cursed, been abandoned by Levi for months and forced into bed with another, and suffered through a hard birth that left him magicless until someone tried to kill him... oh, and of course, he'd been imprisoned in the one place he'd come to call home for weeks without proper care or treatment... and his lungs were fucked. He was also a prince, with two sons and an alpha with a memory problem that he was still to confess in full, worrying about the people of three nations, and in a foreign land where he didn't feel safe. His best friend was now prince and his sister refused to give him enough breathing space to grow into his own person. It was a ridiculous amount to be going on. Levi was sure that every single aspect of it all never left his mate's mind. He was so fucking strong to still be standing, in this case sitting, and being completely honest over the fact he'd run away because he needed to do what was right for him. Levi was falling in love with him all over again, even with the smell of blood and vomit in the room. He had the strongest and most passionate omega he'd ever met for his mate. Never could he love another like Eren. There could never be another like Eren. Clearing his throat, the man nodded towards the other two tribunal members "We believed Willy to be conspiring with Marley before this incident occurred. While investigating the Tybur family, we found large payments being made to them by the royal household to secure trade deals across the mainland continent. We also found claims that the Tybur family in fact controls more of Marley than Queen Dina herself did" Eren simply blinked at the man, Levi however nearly went him. It was as good as confessing that they knew Willy wanted Eren dead, and that the Tybur's had plans of their own to rule Marley. Having been labeled interim leader, the only thing stopping Willy from taking the throne once Dina was imprisoned, or executed, was Eren's legal claim as Zeke's husband "Do you understand me, Prince Eren?" Eren bit his lip. The omega looking down to his lap "Eren, he's saying that Willy wanted the throne for himself. They knew he was playing both sides, only they didn't account for Willy being murdered" The omega's head shot up, looking from Levi to the tribunal judge in angered confusion "You knew?! You knew and you let him walk around, to get himself killed! Why didn't you protect him? Surely if he was being watched, then you have to know who he was with. What he was up to. Who tried to kill me and what happened to that maid! You... you used him as bait too... I can't believe this. You would stoop so low. You've already dragged Dina's trial out. She should have been sentenced to a life where she's forced to give back to people. Where she's forced to realise what a real day's work is like. And that she can't always buy her way out of things. Willy should have been made to do the same. Helping people. Helping rebuild. Something more than... than him being butchered for you!" "We didn't know this would happen so soon. We thought..." "You thought wrong! You're a tribunal! You're supposed to be made up of individuals who think that way! You're not all the same. You're supposed to be open minded and fair. This isn't fair! I'm done. I'm so beyond done. My life is in pieces! Eldia needs its prince. Draecia needs its princess. Both are stuck here because you can't rule that Dina is guilty. Magath is guilty. Willy was guilty. Almost every single person in a position of power is guilty. I'm fucking guilty for taking lives. None of those lives should have been taken, and there's nothing that can bring them back. Everyone thinks people's lives are all a game, but they're not. There's no magical time connecting web or thing. We can't go back in time to before all this happened. And now it seems like the same mistakes are being made all over again. I'm done. I'm done with all of this. I want to go home. I want to be a mum. I want to live in a place where war isn't constantly feared..." Digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, Eren shook his head "I'm sorry, but this wasn't the right way to go about any of this. You made a mistake. You let him die. Levi, we're going back to the hotel" "Prince Eren" "No. I had so much faith in your judgment. I let you rip my life to shreds. I let you hurt the people I love with your questions. I know you didn't know any of us. I know our small issues probably don't matter to you, but Dina is guilty. She needs to be punished legally. Marley is suffering and needs so much help. So many people are dying and those who could help simply trample over them. Marley should just... it should be returned to its people. Let the countries reform themselves with support from the rest of the world... or let them form a government of their own where instead of listening to a ruling monarch because of their bloodline, have the people elect their own leaders. I don't want to be prince. I don't want any of this" Gathering himself up, Eren had the grace of a newborn foal as he found his legs beneath him. Patting Luca on the head, their son gently took Eren's hand in his mouth to lead to him towards the door. The three tribunal members didn't look impressed over Eren's frank words. Levi feeling his mate had pissed all over their pride and plans, and held no sympathy for them at all. They'd upset Eren, and they deserved to suffer his wrath. No one did sass like a pissy Eren did. Reaching the outside of the courthouse, Eren turned to look back at him. His omega had strode through the place too fast for someone ill. Shaking his head, the omega simply waited for Levi to join him as Luca released the omega's hand, licking at the few drops of blood drawn by his teeth accidentally. Taking the few steps, Eren started walking towards the inn instead of talking to him, letting a strained silence fall between them, though Levi wasn't sure why they weren't talking. Unable to understand just what was going through Eren's mind. Reaching out, Eren came to a stop as Levi's fingers brushed down his arm. Closing his eyes, Eren took a deep breath before opening his eyes and releasing it "You're mad, aren't you?" His mate was an idiot. A gorgeous, strong, idiot "Why would you think that?" "You didn't say anything" "I was trying to give you space. Though I'm not sure why" "I lost my temper" "And said what needed to be said" "My mouth moved on its own" "You had a shock. It was disgusting that they didn't warn you" "The needed to see our honest reactions" Eren was more understanding than he was. An honest reaction didn't need the corpse being exposed. Simply telling them Willy had died would have been plenty. Eren had fucking fallen apart in shock. It wasn't like Levi wasn't as equally disgusted, he'd simply seen worse living underground and in war. Even hunting trips gone wrong where soldiers had been gored by boar tusks, unable to be healed as their organs spilt from their abdomens. Eren wasn't like that. They should have all known this, yet... "I shouldn't have lost my temper" "No. That's where you're wrong. Everything you said was correct. They should have acted sooner. They should have prevented this from happening. I know you think you constantly need to follow this unwritten rule of always carrying yourself with composure, but you don't. These moments when you let your emotions show, those are the most honest and pure moments. When you let your real self show. When you stand up for yourself, you make stupidly proud. I fall in love with you all over again when you let yourself be you" Eren groaned at him, pinching the bridge of his nose "You're an idiot" "You're the idiot. You need to stop apologising for everything. If you fuck up, I'll tell you. Like I expect you to tell me when I fuck up" "Did you see them. They looked ready to arrest me for my words" "Because they didn't like the fact they were wrong being pointed out. I'm sure they knew they'd fucked up the moment they saw Willy's body. They failed to protect him, despite their suspicions. His death is on their hands" "I still feel like if we'd talked with him, this might have been prevented" "Or, he might have gone after you. There was a reason he had a large sum of money on him. There was a reason he was accompanied by Marley soldiers" "Because he was going to die..." Dropping his hand, Eren shook his head, before suddenly turning and striking the stone wall closest to them. Levi had thought they were simply walking close to the wall because Eren was dead on his feet, not because his omega planned on attacking it for no reason. It only took a few moments for Eren's hand to heal as if nothing had happened, but it didn't make what had happened alright "Feeling better?" "Not really" "Good. You had no reason to do that" "I know. I'm... I'm done. I've had enough. Dina probably won't even receive a sentence worthy of her crimes. I had so much faith in them Levi. I truly believed that they'd handle this case properly and professionally. That those questions were only to reconfirm the truths we already know. That we nearly died but those responsible would be held responsible. I'm done, Levi. I want to go home" Mentally sighing, the alpha knew what would happen if they left. Eren would be mad at himself for not seeing things through, then upset over not knowing what happened with his ex-mother in law. Carefully, he picked his words "Then we'll leave. If you truly want to leave before the verdict is handed down, we'll leave. I think they know that you won't be returning to court. Willy is gone now, taking his secrets with him to the grave" Rubbing at his hand, his fiancé sighed at him in annoyance "I hate when you do that" "Do what?" Feigning innocence Levi smiled. He didn't like that Eren had lashed out, but he did like the fact his mate knew that he knew he what he really wanted down deep "It's like you reach into my mind and know what I'm thinking" "I think you're thinking that we should stay, even though you're done with court you don't want to leave without knowing the verdict" "I said I hate when you do this to me" "I know. And I know you're stressed. Why don't we let Mikasa watch the children? I know you said you can't handle them being out of your sight, but you're exhausted. You threw up and you collapsed" "I'm well aware of that fact, but I'm his mother" Viren was still crying. Not the same constant cries, more like every few minutes he let out a loud cry and then lulling for half a moment, fighting to stay awake like his mother was "Levi" "Eren, please. If you keep stressing like this, you'll only feel worse" "I don't think I can sleep" "Then rest. I'm worried for you" A fever from lack of sleep was bad enough, but now Eren was shaking with effort to remain standing "I'm his mother. I can't pass him over to someone else each time he cries all night. What about when we move? Who do I pass him over to then? Or are you planning on bringing all our friends with us?" "It doesn't make you any less of a mother to make use of the people we have with us. This isn't an ideal circumstance" "They're our sons. I can't not be with them" "They'll be in the room next to ours" "Why don't you get it!? I don't trust letting them out of our sights. I don't trust that Marley won't go after them. That someone want go after them" Willy was dead. Dina was arrested. Levi doubted anyone would try go after them now that their own loose end was taken care of. Willy was their scapegoat "Why don't you get that you don't have to do this alone!? Do you think I would let them out of our sights if I believed they'd be hurt? They watched over the boys while we recovered. Luca's upset. You're upset. Viren is upset. You need rest. You need to get out of your own head for a while" "I don't want to be that kind of mother" "The kind of mother who admits he needs a little help?" "The kind of mother who can't deal with his own pup" He wasn't being a bad mother. He was being a stubborn shit. The moment the others saw him they'd be fussing. Mikasa would probably have worn a hole in the floor worrying over why it was just the two of them requested at the courthouse "Eren, I don't want to use a command to have you rest, but you need rest" "Then don't use a command. Let me lay in bed with Viren and Luca. I won't do anything strenuous. I won't even move. Please..." Viren's crying was the issue. Eren had already admitted it was worse for him with acute senses. Now he had his mate nearly in tears all over again, accidentally making him feel like a bad mother "One hour. If Viren doesn't fall asleep within an hour, Mikasa and Armin can watch him while we rest" Not impressed, Eren worried his bottom lip before realising his big green eyes weren't working against Levi's worry "Ok..." "Good. Let's get back to the inn" As predicted Mikasa was waiting for them. Armin was in his room with Hanji, and Moblit, going over the correspondence from the castle. Standing in the hall, she rushed to throw her arms around Eren once they'd cleared the staircase to the second floor. Catching him off guard, Eren slammed it to the wall due to the force of the impact. Snarling at the female alpha, Levi was slightly more forceful than he meant to be as he pulled her off his mate. Eren whimpering in confusion over what the hell had happened "I was so worried! What happened?! You look ill... are you sick? Sicker than you let on? What did they want? Why did they only want to talk to the two of you?" "Shit happened" "It's ok, Mikasa. I'm fine" "You're not fine. You're as a pale as Levi. Here, you need to rest" "Mikasa..." Taking his arm, Eren shrunk back from the touch "Really. I'm fine. I'm not hurt, only a little tired from Viren's crying, but I'm going to lay down" "Then I'll watch the boys. You need to rest, this has all been so taxing for you..." "Taxing for me? It's been taxing for all of us. Not just me. Not just for the only omega in the group. I'm going to rest. I'm going to lay down with my boys. You'll find out what happened, but I don't want to talk about and I don't want you fussing over me" "Eren" "Leave it alone, Mikasa. I don't want to talk about it. Come on, Luca" Left with Mikasa in the hallway, Eren slammed the door hard enough for Levi to flinch. Any harder and the omega would have probably broken the antique piece of wood right off its hinges "What the hell happened?!" Scowling at him, Mikasa adjusted the red scarf around her neck "Don't give me that look. Willy was murdered something this morning before sunrise, and the tribunal wanted to make sure we had nothing to do with it" "Murdered?" "His tongue was cut out. He was left to bleed to death in the marketplace. We weren't told before being shown the body. Now he's going to rest, and you're going to let him" Leaving Mikasa with more questions than answers, Levi let himself into the room he shared with his fiancé. Eren was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. Luca had dragged his blanket from their bed to set himself up on the floor in the sunlight streaming through the window. Closing and locking the door, Eren raised his head at the noise. His eyes red rimmed "I didn't mean to freak out" "I know" "She took me by surprise" "I know" "Is she mad?" "No. Confused, but not mad. I explained what happened" "I don't think I could have. I can't get the image out of my head" "No. It wasn't a terribly nice surprise" "How's Viren?" Still crying? How was supposed to be? Eren could hear how unhappy he was "I'll change him, then we'll settle him down. You're supposed to be resting" "I know" Gathering up everything, Levi went about laying Viren down on their bed in order to change him "What's going on in your mind? Talk to me" "I guess I'm in shock. When I was in Marley, I was threatened. I mean, I had death threats. There were some who threatened to cut my tongue out... and now... it's fucking gross" Luckily Viren's nappy wasn't. A little wet, but nothing like some of the presents he'd gifted them "It was. Is that why you don't want to sleep? You're scared of nightmares?" "Have I told you how much I hate when you're in my head?" "You've got nothing to fear with me here" "You can't control my magic" "No, but I can be with you when you need me. You don't need to be strong in front of me" "I know. I can't stop thinking though" "You think? Never" "God. I'm so done" "Then move your arse. If you want cuddles, you've got to get ready for them" "I can't move. My boots are too far from my hands" "Who's fault is that? You didn't need to grow so damn tall" Flopping back on the bed, Eren smiled softly at him. His hand reaching towards him to wave at him before dropping down on the bed "I'll keep that in mind. You know, you look good like that. You're a really good father to our sons" "You just want me to take your boots off for you" "Mmm. Maybe. I didn't think it was humanly possible to be this tired, yet awake at the same time" "That's because of all that thinking you're doing. Viren's changed, let me settle him then I'll help with your boots" "Thank you. When we get back to Eldia, I promise I'm going to do everything I can to be the best omega I can for you" "You already are" "Mmm... I want to be better. I really love you, you know" "I know" Settling Viren down on Eren's pillow there was a moment of silence, followed by a second and then a third. Kissing the pup's forehead, Levi thanked the gods as he pulled back, careful not to disturb the pup as he climbed off the bed. Whispering, he crouched to work on Eren's boots "Viren's finally sleeping" "Really?" "Yeah. I think he's finally going to stay asleep" "Thank god... I love him more than life, but my head is ringing" "You're next" "I don't want to" "You need to" "I have too many thoughts in my head" "I can help with that" Giving a weak laugh, Eren shook his head "I seriously doubt that we're thinking the same thing there" "I don't know. Maybe an orgasm is exactly what you need?" "Only if you can suck my brain" "I can try" Purely because Eren was thinking he was joking, Levi helped his omega out his pants. Both of them careful not to wake Viren, who'd now been quite for last 15 minutes. He hadn't been horny until he had Eren laying beneath him with the sweet smell of slick filling the space between them. Burying his face between his legs, Levi ran his tongue along Eren's shaft, the omega whining as he arched into the touch "Levi... I'm tired" "You don't need to do anything" "I don't know what to do" Sleepy Eren mumbled out the words softly, having already forgotten when Levi had literally just said "Let me take care of you" And orgasm was exactly what Eren needed. Coming hard, Levi swallowed what he could before catching the rest on his tongue. A smirk on his lips as he drank Eren's seed down, expecting to see Eren's blissed out expression, he looked up to find Eren's eyes closed. A few seconds passed as Levi reapplied himself between Eren's legs to lap as Eren's slick arse. Moaning at the contrasting tastes on his tongue, Levi was caught off guard as Eren let out a loud nasally snore. The little shit had cum, then fallen right to sleep with his dick out and legs over Levi's shoulders. Part of him wanted to laugh, while the other part of him had to deal with getting the pantsless omega up to lay next to their son without waking either of them... and the fact he was hard and definitely going to have severe case of blue balls.

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