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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Where Loyalties Lie

(Technoblade X reader)

Request 3: Can we get a little angsty fic or headcanon of Techno trying to get the reader to leave L’manberg?

Requested By: Anonymous

~~~

“Tubbo please take a deep breath,” You followed him around the rubble as he paced restlessly.

“I’m president of a crater (Y/n)!” The boy pulled on his ears with a loud whine, “What am I gonna do. I can’t believe Wilbur blew it up-” He felt your hands touch his own and gently pull them away from his oversensitive goat ears. “What am I gonna do? I-I’m a kid…” You frowned, moving to cup his cheek with your hand. He nuzzled into it desperately, welcoming the comforting touch of someone who he considered family.

“You’re going to get through it because you’re strong.” You told him, “and so brave little ram.” He flushed pink letting out a whine of protest especially because he was still surrounded by most of his friends.

You watch as Quackity walked over to the both of you and placed his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder squeezing it, “We’ll rebuild. We’ll be right behind you Tubbo.” He smiled at the kid and you couldn’t help but smile over at him.

“Thank you both. Truly.”

There was one thing that had you were worried you may come to regret, and that was not taking Technoblade’s hand as he fled from the country. You were close almost touching it, he looked like he wanted to beg for you too but one desperate cry from Tubbo had you pulling away. He looked heartbroken but at the same time, you saw understanding in his deep red eyes.

Family came first.

That day he pulled you close pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be back for you.”

You murmured a soft I’m sorry, turning to find Tubbo to make sure he wasn’t injured or dying. The thoughts of the festival replaying in your head, you couldn’t go through that...not again especially because now Tubbo was officially on his last life. Tommy couldn’t fathom how you didn’t blame Technoblade for what happened that day, but to you, two things were clear: one was that Tubbo didn’t blame him which made it easier on your end to forgive him; two Schlatt was manipulative and overwhelming as fuck you can’t blame someone for something they were peer pressured into doing. Speaking of Tommy you ended up finding Tubbo and him in the rubble that day, the taller male was pressing cloth to Tubbo’s bleeding arm desperately, when you took over and Tommy seemed grateful.

However, you had to push your possible regrets aside and focus on the new nation you’d help build, and build it you did. You worked endlessly for months on end creating a lovely new nation for people to live in, Tubbo had dubbed it New L’manburg. You felt his pride and happiness, he just loved seeing everyone together again and happy once again. Finally, the server felt somewhat normal after all that destruction, even if there was a Techno-shaped hole in your heart. Things changed rather quickly when Tubbo was, in your eyes, manipulated to exile Tommy by Dream. You had tried to argue for the boy saying that not only was he Tubbo’s friend but just a kid. You were shut down harshly by not only Dream but Tubbo as well, the look in his eyes was filled with so much loathing and frustration. It’s the first time he ever snapped and was harsh to you, you felt your own frustration bubble up in your chest. You turned on your heel and marched back up into your house, you were not going to put up with this behavior. When you slammed the door shut, and turned around to find Technoblade standing in your living room, with your cat purring fondly on his shoulders; you almost screamed.

“Heh- why are you scared it’s just me?” The hybrid complained his nose scrunching up, “Don’t be cringe- oof-” Techno grunted as you threw your arms around his waist, the man flushed to the tips of his ears and looked away from you, Taffy hopped off his shoulders disgruntledly, “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.” He pet the top of your head tenderly and you looked up at him with a smile.

“What’re you doing here Tech? If Tubbo finds out he’ll have your head.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find me then huh?” He mused lips, quirking into a smile, and you nodded in agreement. “Other than that just running some errands. I’m in retirement now you know. I have to say that ‘New L’Manburg’ is certainly a name.” He did air quotes around the name and you nudged him,

“Be nice.”

“Boo Cringe. I’m a Blood God starlight. I don’t do nice.”

“Bullshit,” You punched him in the arm, “Tea?”

“Please.” He cracked a smile as you walked over to your tea kettle heating the water and grabbing some tea bags.

“So, you came here to run some errands huh? I almost thought you missed me?” Technoblade shuffled a little behind you, how could you read him so perfectly? It was complete and utter bullshit. You heard him click his tongue distastefully behind you and you couldn’t help but smirk cheekily,

“Get off my back woman.” He stated gruffly as you laughed, “but I guess I do miss you a little bit.” You smiled fondly and softly cooed at him and he let out another scoff,

“A little bit?”

“What is this interrogation? You a cop now?” You placed his tea in front of him and he took a sip,

“Yeah, we’re gonna need to do a strip search. Drop your pants.” Technoblade choked on his drink, face turning the darkest shade of red you’ve ever seen from him. You howled with laughter sliding down in your seat beside the man.

“I changed my mind. I didn’t miss you at all, you’re a terror.”

“You love me, admit it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He murmured looking at you with a sudden softness that was out of character for him. You didn’t notice the change but it was there, oh if only you knew how much of what you said was true. He did love you. He ran his tongue across his teeth and reached out to interlock your hands within his own.

“Come live with me.”

“Tech…”

“I’m in retirement now. I’m going to get some turtles hopefully, maybe some other pets while I’m at it. There’s a lot of room...It gets lonely all alone you know. It’d be nice to have you there with me.” He watched hesitance flicker across your face again just like the day Wilbur blew up L’Manburg. Your thoughts went to Tubbo and how much he needed you, especially now that Tommy was exiled. However, you were also brought back to a few moments ago where Tubbo snapped at you for trying to help. You took a ragged breath and pushed his hand away, he frowned sadly bringing his hand back down to his lap.

“I need to be here for Tubbo. He’s a kid Tech...way over his head. Dreams sniffing around him like a dog looking for his next victim to manipulate. I can’t let that happen, not to him. I know he’s President of this nation and you hate him for that, but he’s my brother and I love him. He’s a tough kid with a lot of fire, but I can’t just leave him in the dust. I love you,” You reached up and cupped his cheek and Technoblade felt his cheeks burn at the implication, “but I can’t leave until Tubbo is safe.”

“I’ll convince you one day.” Technoblade shot back even though his heart ached, that you wouldn’t be coming home with him. But Technoblade wasn’t known for giving up. He was stubborn as hell, he’d win you over yet. You’d come home with him, he’d confess to you and he’d make you the happiest person in the world. You just...didn’t know it yet.

“I’m excited for the day you do Tech.” You snickered softly, you both were startled by harsh knocking on the door.

“That’s my cue. See you soon Starlight,” Technoblade hummed slipping right out the window, you watched him go longingly. You shuffled towards the door and opened it slowly, on the front steps stood Tubbo who was rocking nervously on his feet.

“Hi…”

“Hey LR...you okay?” Tilting your head to the side,

“Is LR supposed to stand for little ram?”

“Problem?”

“No…I suppose not.” He murmured before clearing his throat and straightening his back, “I wanted to talk with you.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow watching him nod his head sternly, you walked outside and closed the door behind you so you could lean on it. “Shoot,”

You watched as Tubbo swallowed thickly, “First off I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. It wasn’t fair of me to snap.” He watched you nod a little urging him to continue, “however, I am the President now and you have to respect my authority.” Eyebrows furrowing together in frustration you opened your mouth to counter him but he held up his hand, “Dream has an idea of how to rule. He can steer me in a better direction-”

“Pardon me?” You let out a disbelieving laugh, “A better direction? Tubbo, are you forgetting everything we all fought for, we fought him for independence. He killed us!”

“He might’ve changed!”

“He exiled Tommy!”

“He deserved it!” Tubbo shouted back as your nose scrunched up, “He’ll steer me in a direction that you never could!” He snapped before realizing what he said, he slapped his hands over his mouth eyes widening to the size of saucers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-”

“Go home Tubbo.”

“(Y/n) please,” He reached out towards you and you held up your hand,

“Go reset the day. You need rest,” You frowned, turning back into the house “see you tomorrow.” Inside the house you shut the door on him and slid down onto the floor, you brought your hands to your mouth and swallowed thickly. A part of you wished Technoblade was still here just so he could tell you to get over yourself, he wasn’t skilled in the art of comforting others, but he could make you laugh. To keep yourself sane you reminded yourself that Tubbo was a child and needed you now more than ever, especially if he thought Dream was dishing out good advice. But you were hurt and a selfish part of you wished you could just go live in retirement with Technoblade and not worry about the new country forming, but you couldn’t ditch Tubbo.

Running a hand through your hair you sighed loudly, one might wonder what exactly could Tubbo do to make you listen to Technoblade’s offer. Honestly, you had no idea if anything would make you do that unless of course they just started executing people or something ridiculous like that.

Restless was how you’d describe the rest of your night, you tried to sleep but after a few hours of tossing and turning you gave up. You decided to make yourself a ‘healthy’ midnight snack, a small bowl of mac & cheese, you didn’t care, you were sad. You sighed softly scratching behind your cat’s ears, “It’s just you and me against the world Taffy isn’t it?” Her purrs rang in the air as she snuggled against your hand, distracting you just enough to swipe a noddle from your bowl. “You fat bitch!” You hissed as she ran off back up the stairs, you leaned back in your chair and sighed, literally nothing was going your way today. Just as you finished up your snack you heard a soft ping upon your window, turning to the sound you noticed your neighbor Phil awake in his house. He held up a hand and waved at you through it, and with a small smile, you waved back. He shuffled back into his home, I guess you both were insomniacs together, Techno knew how to pick a certain type of friend it seemed.

You walked back up to your bedroom and slid under the covers once more, maybe you were wrong and things were going to get better.

Months went by and nothing seemed to change much to your disappointment. Tubbo and you were still a little rocky, you had forgiven him for his harsh words but he always put Dream’s and even Quackity’s opinion before your own. When you came back from visiting Niki one day and saw wanted posters of Technoblade all around the country you almost had a stroke. You confronted Tubbo about it and only half answered you before running off when Quackity called him. That worried you, he normally didn’t like lying, especially not to you.

The same day you were walking into the market to get some fresh fruit when a hand shot out from the wanted poster and pulled you behind it. You were held flush against someone’s chest who chuckled gruffly, you recognized that chuckle anywhere. “Techno! What’re you doing here?” You asked looking up at him with eyes filled with concern, “don’t you know you’re a wanted man?”

“I think that just makes this all the more exciting.” Techno mused running his fingers through your hair, “Plus it’s not like anyone here can catch me.”

“Wrong I could catch you.” He dared to laugh in your face,

“Sure you could, and I’m half sheep.” Technoblade mused and he watched you huff cutely, “Don’t get all huffy at me you know I’m right.” You only waved him off, “seriously though I’m here to do some trading with Phil.”

“Oh…” You gave a nod, “Will I see you more frequently then?”

“You could see me all the time if you moved in with me.” Techno joked again and was surprised to see your face fall a little. Are you serious? Was he getting you to crack? “Starlight?”

“Ask me again in a few months and I might say yes,” You teased brushing the question off swiftly, Technoblade didn’t pry but he could tell you were almost convinced. Just what was going on in this country to make you want to leave your little brother? “Now shoo, go see Phil before he gives up on you.” You gave him a little shove and he stumbled off with a huff sticking his tongue out at you in the process.

After that encounter, you didn’t run into Technoblade for another very long stretch of time. About a month or so after that encounter, Tubbo had shown up at your doorstep a complete nervous wreck. He begged you to help him, claiming he needed diamonds for an upcoming project and wanted you to acquire them for him. “Tubbo I don’t understand why I need to go on this trip? I have diamonds I can just give you. You know I don’t care.”

“But I feel bad about it,” Tubbo argued with you “please just do this for me.”

“You know I’ll do anything for you. If you want me to get them this way I’ll do it. I should be back tonight is that okay? Do you need them sooner?” Tubbo looked relieved as he took your hands in his own,

“No tonight is perfect!” The boy chirped sounding more like himself than he has in months, you couldn’t help but smile. You ruffled his hair a little before kissing his forehead,

“Then tonight you shall have them, Little Ram.”

Tubbo helped you gather the materials you needed for a trip down into the mines, Tubbo even gave you some fire resistance potions. You thanked him for the potions before putting on your armor and heading down into the tunnels. As you were down in the mine the concept of time was always an illusion, so when you finally found diamonds for Tubbo and you left the cave you were surprised to see the sun was just setting. You hummed softly to yourself walking back into New L’manburg excited to show off to Tubbo you couldn’t help but wonder what he needed them for in the first place. However, when you entered town you were greeted by a gathering going on at the center. Everyone seemed to be there clad in what looked to be butcher’s outfits, your vibe was immediately thrown off eyebrows furrowing in concern. Quackity was giving some sort of speech and that finally drew your eyes towards the podium, locked inside a cage was a fuming Technoblade. You rushed towards the group, pushing past Ghostbur and a blue sheep, and grabbed tightly onto Tubbo’s arm.

“Tubbo what the fuck is happening?” He tensed turning towards your face. It was no secret that you and Techno were friends, this wasn’t good at all.

“(Y/n)! You’re back early!” He spoke nervously rubbing his hands together as Quackity turned towards you,

“Welcome back!” Quackity hopped off the podium with a smirk, “Fundy grab them.”

“Quackity hey wait a minute-” Tubbo started as Fundy roughly grabbed onto your arms pinning you in place,

“Ow hey! Watch it! Let go of me!”

“Get your hands off them!” Technoblade snarled nostrils flaring grabbing the bars of the cage tightly.

“Quackity you said we’d leave them out of this!” Tubbo argued and your jaw dropped staring at Tubbo, “You promised!”

He waved Tubbo off with a scoff, “they’re just as bad as Phil, Tubbo. She needs to be punished. We can't play favorites when trying to run a country. We’ll execute Techno then deal with the other traitors.”

“Execute?” You choked, “you can’t be serious! Tubbo you cannot be serious, since when are you okay with public executions?” He refused to look at you, his hair covering his eyes, he only nodded his head in Quackity’s direction.

“Do it.”

“Tubbo!” You shrieked watching Quackity grin maliciously, moving over to pull the lever that would allow the anvil to fall and crush the man below it.

What happened next was a cluster fuck, someone began trying to set off TNT, and Quackity pulled the lever. It fell rapidly towards Techno and he pulled something out of his pocket, in a flash of bright colors and bursts of light Technoblade was ripped apart and pulled back together again. He was alive, Technoblade really doesn’t ever die. He hopped on top of the anvil and jumped the bars of the cage, Fundy had long since lost his grip on you, he noticed Dream ushering him inside a cavern and he paused a moment. The hybrid turned towards you holding out his hand one final time, the world seemed to stop a moment and it was just you and him. His face held a desperate look in it, almost pleading you to take his hand within your own. You flashed back to the day Wilbur blew the country up, Tubbo called your name you glanced over your shoulder once towards Little Ram. You reached into your bag and dropped the diamonds you found for him on the ground, you grabbed Technoblade’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Technoblade smiled and yanked you forward, leaving a heartbroken Tubbo in your wake.

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c-is-for-circinate · 3 years

Note

I'd love to hear more of your thoughts about why P5R didn't quite land for you. I had the same reaction to it, but I've never quite been able to properly articulate why the last section fell so flat.

God okay so I've tried several times to answer this, and it seems like the answer is 'I still have way too many feelings, personally, to say this in anything less than thirty pages and fifteen hours of work', because Persona 5 the original is a game I loved a lot and care about a great deal. And most of the reasons I disliked Royal feel, in my head, like a list of ways it broke some of the things I liked best about P5--which means explaining them feels like I need to explain everything I loved about the original game, which is a book in itself, complete with referents to P3, P4, Jungian psychology, the Joseph Campbell mytharc, and fuck all even knows what. And that is too much.

But today I realized that I could instead describe it from an angle of, Persona 5 Strikers succeeds really well at doing the thing I think Royal was trying to do but failed at. And that I think I can talk about in a reasonable amount of wordspace, hopefully, behind this cut because I have at least one friend who hasn't played Royal yet.

Note for reblogs/comments: I HAVE NOT FINISHED STRIKERS YET. I got through the jail that pretended to be the final jail and have not yet gone into the obviously inevitable 'ohshit wait, you mean there's something more than simple human machinations behind all of this?' dungeon. (I got stuck on a really frustrating side quest, put the game down, and then dived into Hades to avoid throwing the Switch across the room for a while--and anyone around this blog lately knows how THAT'S been going.) Please no spoilers past Okinawa!

So, one of the many, many things I really appreciated about Persona 5 was its straightforward and unashamed attitude towards abusers and their acts of violence. Because, while yes P5 is a story about the use of power and control to make others suffer, it fundamentally isn't about those abusers themselves. It's about their victims, those that survive their crimes. And this shows up repeatedly over the course of the game.

We do not give a shit why Kamoshida wanted to beat and rape his students. We really don't. Kamoshida does not deserve our attention one moment longer than it takes to make him stop. Because, ultimately, that's the goal of P5, start to end. We don't know for sure if what we're doing is fair, if it's justice, if it's questionable. What we know is that people are being hurt, badly, actively, right now this second. What we know is that victims are suffering. What we know is that we, personally, us-the-protag and us the Phantom Thieves at large, are in danger. And in those circumstances, we don't care about the abuser's side any more. We don't. We don't have the space or time or capacity to care, because that is not the point.

The point is to help the weak. To save the people who need saving, right here and now. To give others the courage to stand up on their own behalf. We're not even out to change society, not really--that's a byproduct. We are reactions. We are triage. We are important.

There's something so empowering and validating about that as a theme, y'know? In a media landscape so full of "sympathetic villains", the idea that, you know, maybe sometimes you don't have to break yourself to show compassion that might possibly heal the bad guy--that sometimes you can just make the bad guy stop hurting people--feels both refreshing and satisfying. I really appreciate it as a message! I liked it a lot!

And yes, there's nuance to that theme, and the game is not without compassion. We save Futaba, because 'make the bad guy stop hurting people', in that case, means 'make this person stop hurting herself'. We give Sae a path forwards, help her fix her own heart. Yet it's worth pointing out that in both of those cases, while we were very glad to do those things, to save those people, we also went into both of those palaces for extremely practical reasons to begin with. We needed Futaba's help. We needed Sae's help. The fact that we chose to talk Sae into a change of heart rather than simply stealing her treasure, while ultimately a very good thing for her, was absolutely a practical choice predicated on the need for her palace to still exist to save our life. And yes, we wanted to save her, for Makoto's sake--yes, we wanted desperately to save Futaba. But Sae and Futaba let themselves be helped, too, and that doesn't change the overarching themes of the story itself.

Akechi (and to some extent Okumura) would not let himself be helped. Akechi's another interesting nuance to this theme, because of all our villains, we do learn the most about what drove him to the cruelties and crimes he's committed. He's at that intersection of victim and villain, and we want to help him, as a victim--but we also know that stopping him as a villain is more important. We'd like to save him from himself if we could, because we save people from their sources of trauma, it's what we do. We regret being unable to do so. But in the end, what matters to the story is not that Akechi refused to be saved--it's that Shido and Yaldabaoth need to be stopped, for the sakes of everyone else they're hurting now and may continue to hurt in the future.

The thing is, there's space and maybe even a need for a corollary discussion of those places where victim and villain intersect. It's an interesting, pertinent, and related topic. Strikers made an entire video game about it, a really good video game. It's centered in the idea that, yes, these people need to be stopped, and we will make stopping them our priority--but they're not going after us, and that gives us some space to sympathize. Even for Konoe, who specifically targets the Phantom Thieves--compare him to Shido, who actively destroyed the lives of both Joker and Futaba, who ordered Haru's father's death, who's the entire reason the team is still dealing with the trauma of Akechi's everything. Of course the game can be sympathetic to Konoe where it can't with Shido. There's enough distance to do that.

But right--Strikers is a separate game. It's a separate conversation. It's, "last time, we talked about that, so now let's take it one step further." And that's good writing. (It's something Persona has done before, too, also really well! Persona 3 is about terrible, occasionally-suicidal depression and grief. P4 is about how you can still be hurting and need some help and therapy even if things seem ok. Related ideas, but separate conversations that need to be separate in order to be respectful and do justice to either one. P5, as a follow-up to P4, is a conversation about how, ok, changing yourself is great and all, but sometimes the problem is other people so how do you deal with that? Again, still related! Still pertinent! Still alluded to in P4, with Adachi's whole thing--but it wasn't the time or place to base a quarter of the game around it.)

So one of Royal's biggest issues, to me, is that it tries to tack on this whole new angle for discussion onto a game that was originally about something else.

Adding Maruki's palace--adding it at the end, which by narrative laws suggests that it's the true point that everything else should be building up to--suddenly adds in about a hundred new dimensions at once. It wants us to engage with "what in this abuser/manipulator's life led him to act this way?" for basically the first time all game (we'll get to Akechi later). It wants us to engage with, "if the manipulator has a really good reason or good intentions, does that mean we should forgive them?" It requires us to reflect on, "what is the difference between control and cruelty?" It asks, "okay, but if people could be controlled into being happy, would that be okay?" (Which, based on the game so far, is actually a wild out-there hypothetical! Literally not a single thing we've seen in the game suggests that could ever happen. Even the people who think being controlled is safer and easier are miserable under it. Control that's able to lead to actual happiness is completely out of left field in the context of everything we've encountered all game so far.)

That's too much! We don't have time to unpack all that! We only have an eighth of the game left! Not to mention we are also being asked to bring back questions we put to bed much earlier in the game about the morality of our own actions, in a wholely unsatisfying way. Maruki attempts to justify his mass brainwashing because "it's the same as what you're doing", and we know it isn't, but the game didn't need Maruki calling it out in order for us to get that. We already faced that question when we started changing hearts, and again several times throughout the game, and again when we found our targets in Yaldabaoth's cells. The fact that we change hearts does not mean we think "changing hearts is fine and kind and should be done to everyone, actually." Changing hearts has been firmly established in this game as an act of violence, acceptable only because it prevents further systemic violence against innocents that we must prevent. The moral question has never once been about whether it's ok to change the hearts of the innocent, only about how far it's ethical to go against individuals who are actively hurting other people. Saying "you punched that guy to keep him from shooting a child, so punching people is good and I will save the world by punching everyone!" is confusing! and weird! and not actually at all helpful to the question of, how much violence is it acceptable to use to protect others! So presenting the question that way just falls really flat.

(And right, I love Strikers, because Strikers has time to unpack all that. Strikers can give us a main bad guy who wants to control the whole world for everybody's own good, because Strikers has earned that thematic climax. It has given us sympathetic bad guys who started out wanting to control the world to protect themselves and ended up going too far. It's given us Mariko Hyodo, who wanted to control the world to protect other people and went too far. It's given us a long-running thread about police, the desire to serve, and the abuse of power that can lead to. And since we are actively trying to care for the people whose hearts we're changing in Strikers, we can open the door to questions about using changes-of-heart and that level of control to make other people happy. We can even get a satisfying conclusion out of that discussion, because we have space to characterize the difference--Konoe thinks that changing peoples' hearts means confining them, but the Phantom Thieves think it means setting them free. We have seen enough sympathetic villains that we as an audience have had the space to figure out how we feel about that, and to understand the game's perspective of "stop them AND save them, if we can possibly do both." And that message STILL rests firmly on Persona 5's message of "it is Good to do what you have to do to stop an abuser so long as you don't catch innocent people in your crossfire.")

It's worth noting that the general problem of 'asking way too many new questions and then not answering them' also applies to how Royal treats its characters, too. P5 did have unanswered questions left at the end! The biggest one, and we all knew this, was Akechi, and what actually happened to him, and how we should feel about him, and how he felt about us. That was ripe for exploring in our bonus semester, and to Royal's credit they did in fact try to bring it up, but by god did they fuck up doing it.

Akechi's probable death in the boiler room was absolutely the biggest dangling mystery of the game. It was an off-screen apparent death of a key antagonist, so all of the narrative rules we know suggested that he might still be alive and would probably come back if the story went on for long enough. So when Royal brings him back on Christmas Eve, hey, great! Question answered. Except that the situation is immediately too good to be true, and immediately leads to another mystery, which leads to a flat suspicion that something must be wrong. We spend several hours of gameplay getting sly hints that, oooh, maybe he's not really alive after all, before it's finally confirmed by Maruki: yup, he really died, if we end the illusion we'll kill him too. Okay, at least we know now. Akechi is alive right now and he's going to be dead if we do this, and that doesn't make a ton of sense because every other undead person disappeared when the person who wished for them realized they were fake but at this point we'll take it. So we take down Maruki, and okay, Akechi really is dead! Probably! We're fairly sure! Aside from our lingering doubts!

And then we catch a glimpse of maybe-probably-could be him through the train window, and I just want to throw something, because come on.

Look, it is just a fact of storytelling: the more times you make an audience ask 'wait, is this character dead or aren't they?', the less they will care, until three or four reversals later you will be hard pressed to find anybody who gives a shit. Royal does this like four different times, and every iteration comes with even less certainty than the last. By the end, we somehow know even less than we did when we started! Did Akechi survive the boiler room to begin with and Maruki just didn't know? Or was Maruki lying to try and manipulate us further? Or was he actually dead and then his strength of will when Maruki's reality dissolved was enough to let him survive after all? Is that even actually him out the train window?

Where is he going! What is he doing! How did any of this happen! What is going on! We all had these questions about Akechi at the end of the original P5, and the kicker is that Royal pretends like it's going to answer them only to go LOL JK NO. It's frustrating and it's dissatisfying and it annoys me.

The one Akechi question that Royal doesn't even bother to ask, though, let alone leave ambiguous, is how does the protagonist feel about him? The entire emotional weight of the third semester rests on the protagonist caring about Akechi, Sumire, and Maruki. Maruki's the person we're supposed to sympathize with even as we try to stop him. Sumire's the person we're trying to save from herself. And Akechi is our bait--is, we are told, the one thing our protagonist wished for enough to actualize it in this world himself. Akechi's the final lure to accept Maruki's deal. Akechi's survival is meant to be tempting.

For firm Akechi fans, this probably worked out fine--the game wanted to insist that the protagonist cared for Akechi the same way the player did. For those of us who're a little more ambivalent, though (or for the many and valid people who hated him), this is a super sour note. Look, one of the Persona series' strengths is the way it lets players choose to put their time and emotional investment into an array of different characters, so the main story still has weight even if there's a couple you don't care about that much. It has always done this. The one exception, from P3 all the way through P4 to here and now, is Nanako Dojima, and by god she earned that distinction. I have never met a person who played Persona 4 who didn't love Nanako. Nanako is a neglected six-year-old child who is brave and strong enough to take care of herself and all of the housework but who still tries not to cry when her dad abandons her again and lights up like the sun when we spare her even the tiniest bit of time and attention. It is impossible not to care for Nanako. Goro Akechi is not Nanako.

And yet third semester Royal doesn't make sense if your protagonist doesn't feel linked to Akechi. The one question, out of all the brand new questions Royal throws out there, that it decides to answer all by itself--and it's how you as a player and your protagonist ought to feel about an extremely complex and controversial character. What the fuck, Royal. What the fuck.

In conclusion, I'll leave you with this. I played the original Persona 5 in March and April of 2017, as an American, a few months after the 2016 election and into the term of our then president. It felt painfully timely. A quick calendar google early on indicated that the game's 20XX was almost certainly 2016, and the closer our plot got to the in-game November leadup to an election destined to be dominated by a foul and charming man full of corruption and buoyed up by his own cult of personality, the more I wanted to laugh/cry. It felt timely. It felt important. It felt right.

I went through Royal (in LP form on youtube, not having a platform to play it on) in summer of 2020, with a hook full of face masks by my front door and protests about racial tension and local policing that occasionally turned into not-quite-riots close enough to hear at night if I opened the windows of my apartment. The parts of the game that I remembered felt as prescient and meaningful as ever, if not even more so. The new parts felt baffling. Every single evil in the game felt utterly, painfully real, from the opening moments of police brutality to the idea of a country led by a guy who probably would use his secret illegitimate teenage son as a magical assassin if the opportunity presented itself and he thought he could get away with it. Yaldabaoth as the cumulative despair of an entire population who just wanted somebody to take over and make things be okay--yes, yes, god, in summer of 2020? With streets full of people refusing to wear masks and streets full of people desperate for change? Of course. Of course that holy grail of safety should be enticing. Of course it should be terrifying.

And then Maruki. Maruki, who was just so far outside the scope of anything I could relate to the rest of the game or my own life. Because every single other villain in the rest of Persona is real. From the petty pandering principal to the human-trafficking mob boss. The corrupt politicians and the manmade god of cultural desire for stability. And this game was trying to tell me that the very biggest threat of all of them, the thing that was worse than the collective force of all society agreeing to let this happen because succumbing was easier than fighting back--that the very biggest threat of all was that the world could be taken over by some random nobody's misguided attempts to help?

No. Fuck no. I don't buy it. Because god, yes, I have seen the pain and damage done on a tiny and personal and very real level by the tight-fisted control of someone trying to help, it never looked like this. Not some ascended god of a bad therapist. All the threats to the world, and that's the one I'm supposed to take seriously? This one man is more of a threat than the fundamental human willingness to be controlled?

Sorry, but no. Not for me. Not in this game. Not in this real-life cyberpunk dystopian apocalypse.

#c plays persona #driveby meta attack #p5 royal spoilers #p5 strikers spoilers #holy crap I did it #I actually wrote a semicoherent essay of a length I'm willing to put on Tumblr #about my problems with this game #I have been trying on and off for MONTHS #I wanted to like Royal SO BADLY #it makes me SO UPSET #anyway #now back to your regularly scheduled Hades blogging #asked and answered #Anonymous

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rpmemes-galore · 3 years

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the neverending story ... sentence starters

“You must live your story.”

“You're hiding, aren't you?”

“What are you going to wish for?“

“I will not die easily. I am a warrior.“

“They look like good, strong hands.“

“Who were you running away from?“

“You must let what happens happen.“

“It's the most dangerous of all journeys.“

“Without a past, you can't have a future.“

“Every real story is a never ending story.“

“Don't you have the courage to save us?”

“No, you didn't fail. I'm the one who failed.“

“Everything will turn out all right. You'll see.“

“Who knows what use they’ll make of you?“

“Never give up, and good luck will find you.“

“Nonsense! You don't understand anything!“

“Nothing is lost... Everything is transformed.“

“If you come any closer, I will rip you to shreds.“

“If we're about to die anyway, I'd rather die fighting!“

“Please, help me! You said you knew the answer --- !”

“When you know as much as we do, nothing matters.“

“Stop daydreaming. Start facing your problems, okay?“

“Regardless of what may happen, I have to go forward.”

“But that is another story and shall be told another time.“

“What I really and truly want? What do you mean by that?“

“If you don't want me here, you shouldn't have sent for me.“

“It's your own deepest secret and you, yourself, don't know it.”

“What I've started, I must finish. I've gone too far to turn back.“

“Well, why don't you give ‘em a good punch in the nose, hmm?“

“That must mean I can do anything I feel like. Don't you think so?“

“Confronted with their true selves, most men run away, screaming.”

“In short, there are as many different passions as there are people.“

“And you, whoever you are, can have the honor of being my last victim.“

“There are many kinds of joy, but they all lead to one: the joy to be loved.“

“Oh, nothing can happen more than once, but all things must happen one day.“

“I'm sorry, but this is not the time nor place for children. I must ask you to leave.”

“Without memory, how will you ever find your way back to where you came from?”

“Do not be afraid. We will not harm you. We have been waiting for you a long time.”

“When it comes to controlling human beings, there is no better instrument than lies.”

“Strange as it may seem, horror loses its power to frighten when repeated too often.“

“Maybe all the people who say ghosts don't exist are just afraid to admit that they do.“

“The human world is full of weak-minded people, who think they're as clever as can be.”

“It means that you must do what you really and truly want. And nothing is more difficult.”

“When a person is only half an ass like me, and not a complete one, she senses certain things.“

“Everything must be equal in your eyes: good and evil, beautiful and ugly, foolish and wise.“

“Because people who have no hopes are easy to control. And whoever has the control has the power.“

“Only the right name gives beings and things their reality. A wrong name makes everything unreal.“

“You're old enough to get your head down out of the clouds and start keeping both feet on the ground, right?”

“You wish for something, you've wanted it for years, and you're sure you want it, as long as you know you can't have it.”

“By going the way of your wishes, from one to another, from first to last, it will take you to what you really and truly want.“

“Humans live by beliefs. And beliefs can be manipulated. The power to manipulate beliefs is the only thing that counts.”

“Some people risk their lives to conquer a mountain peak... No one, not even they, themselves, can really explain why.”

“Once someone dreams a dream, it can't just drop out of existence. But if the dreamer can't remember it, what becomes of it?“

“It requires the greatest honesty and vigilance, because there's no other journey on which it's so easy to lose yourself forever.“

“There's just something missing. And once it gets hold of you, something more is missing every day. Soon there won't be anything left.”

“But, if all at once, it looks as though your wish might come true, you suddenly find yourself wishing you had never wished for any such thing.”

“Wishes cannot be summoned up or kept away at will. They come from deeper within us than good or bad intentions. And they spring up unannounced.“

#the neverending story quotes #both film and book.#rp meme #sentence starters

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

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Soulmate September - Day 13

Day 13 - Everyone is born with a super power, but when soulmates are together their powers are nullified by each other.

Pairing(s): Romantic Intrulogical, Romantic Moceit, Romantic Prinxiety (background), Familial Anxceit

TWs: swearing, one mention of puking [nothing detailed], innuendo, Remus being Remus

Logic reigned at night in Newmind City.

Okay, that may not be entirely correct; the quicker the time sluggishly dragged itself towards 6 am, the faster the brain cell count dwindled. Stupider and stupider decisions were made edging the lines of the illegal and bordering on the disastrous.

No, the Logic that owned the night came in the form of the superhero; Logic.

The hero had to admit, it wasn’t the most extravagant name out there, he’d heard many more creative and intimidating names; the Sandman, Sweet Psyche, the Tempest Tongue, all of them household names by now, whether hero or villain. Logic wasn’t exactly a name that struck hearts much outside of NewMind City, but within the alleyways and dive bars, criminals lived in fear of his watchful patrols.

Harnessing the power of Order and Stability made Logic a formidable opponent. The effect on his physical balance allowed him to fight on any surface - even hundreds of feet off of the ground - with almost zero chance of falling. The way he could manipulate any situation into the perfect rube goldberg machine to aid his crusade was terrifying given the right situations. Only one villain dared provoke Logic at every turn; Deceit.

The Lord of the Lies. A Self-Proclaimed Subterfuge Specialist.

Deceit seemed to live for one thing and one thing only; to destroy the city from the inside out. Logic would have admired the serpentine slanderer if not for his methods. Forcing politicians to spout the truth? Urging government officials to spill their true agendas against their will? Logic admired that kind of drive, but at the same time, this was a man who used lies as weapons. Deceit used them to hurt others whenever he so desired.

Stalking across the edge of the Talyn Street apartment block, the hero could hear a commotion in the distance; by the sounds of it, at least three men were involved and by the sound of it, things had gotten ugly in a hurry. Logic took off along the edges of the nearest buildings and-

Wait. Something didn’t feel right.

The closer he got to the commotion, the less balanced he felt on his own two feet. Had he somehow exhausted himself? Impossible. He’d faced rather a quiet night until now. His thoughts were distracted long enough that he nearly slid right off of the edge of the building overlooking the alleyway in question. The scene that unfolded set Logic’s blood to a boil.

Four men, not three. One held back by the largest thug in the group while the other two took turns brutalising the man, though he didn’t let out a single sound. Logic had to be careful; he couldn’t tell if his powers were acting up for sure, but just in case, he used the fire escape to stick to the shadows, to better observe the situation.

Despite the beating he was taking, the man being held back didn’t seem too worried. Logic found out exactly why when the man waited for the next brutal gut punch and used it to flip the larger man holding him onto his attacker. It was impressive to say the least. The final attacker still standing went to pull out a blade, evident by the flash of silver light that caught Logic’s eye, but thankfully, their victim was armed as well.

The way the man twirled the butterfly knife in his hand so effortlessly was hypnotic, borderline erotic if Logic were to be so bold. Focus. You have a job to do. He leapt down from the fire escape with only a few inches between him and the attacker’s back. Before the assailant could do anything, Logic drove his elbow into the man’s temple, knocking him unconscious. Checking that he hadn't actually killed him, Logic took his pulse with relief before looking up towards the victim,

“Are you unharmed-”

“That was so sexy.”, the man murmured.

“..... Come again?”

“Gimme a second.”

It took Logic that second and more to realise the innuendo. He annoyedly rolled his eyes and made sure his hair was neatly pushed back once again out of the way of his mask.

“Would you mind informing me of the situation, um..?”

“Remus.”, the man grinned.

Logic wasn’t sure whether the grin reminded him more of a gassy shark or a seasick crocodile, but either way, he began to wonder if Remus wasn’t entirely innocent in this situation…

“Remus.”, Logan repeated, “Actually, I’ll need to ask you to assist me in escorting these charming gentlemen to the station-”

“That won’t be necessary. You’re too tired to move.”

The silky, venomous voice pierced through Logic before he could react. Dammit, he hadn’t anticipated these thugs would be working for Deceit. His movements were sluggish and just as he watched Remus hit the ground, Logic too felt the rough kiss of gravel before he was out like a light…

When Logic awoke, he felt rather like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air; everything was flipped, turned upside down.

Startled, he noted the boiling oil below him - typical of the villain’s over the top style - and the power suppressing cuffs keeping his hands secured behind his back. On the floor just to the left of him, he could make out the goons from earlier sat playing cards while Remus was tied to a chair a couple of feet away. Logic was thankful to see Remus had no new injuries though he was still out cold. The man may be a wretch but the hero really didn’t want to see harm come to him.

“Ah, you’re finally awake, my dear nemesis.”

Deceit’s voice trickled from the speakers in the room, sickly smooth and deadly, like honey laced with poison. Logic knew not to listen to it consciously, he’d made that mistake once before and it’d nearly cost him his life. He instead focused on struggling to get out of the situation he was in, but with his hands cuffed using suppressor cuffs, he was fighting an uphill battle.

“Now, now, don’t exhaust yourself. I’ve been waiting for this day for a while now, I don’t want you too tired for the grand finale.”

The smugness dripping from every word even passively began to give Logic a headache. His attempts to escape were becoming more and more fruitless; the chain that held his legs in place also stopped him having his skin boiled right off the bone so being too unruly with them was out of the question. All he could do was hope that Remus would wake up and have some kind of ability that might help the both of them.

Come to think of it, why had his powers suddenly stopped working as he’d approached? Perhaps one of Deceit’s thugs had been in possession of something made to counteract his abilities? No, that didn’t seem likely. Knowing the smug villain, Logic knew there was no way Deceit would let his cronies take charge of something that powerful and impressive. He was wrenched from his thoughts as Deceit’s message continued,

“I hope you’re prepared to-”

He stopped. There was a sound akin to rustling and clattering before Deceit’s voice came once more. From the muffled volume and the conversation, Logic guessed the idiot had forgotten to turn off the microphone.

“Pat, dearest?”

Another voice, probably the aforementioned Pat, spoke sweetly in response,

“What, honey?“

“Where’s my villainous cape?”, came Deceit’s inquiry. Logic had to bite his tongue to refrain from laughing. Might as well enjoy the show while he thought of an escape plan.

“What???”, came Pat’s reply, a little closer now going by the acoustics.

“Where. Is. My. Villainous. Cape?!”

“Oh, I put it away!”

Logic was thoroughly enjoying the drama going down over the speakers, and so were Deceit’s henchmen who Logic spotted had stopped their rousing game of blackjack to instead get comfy and enjoy the show.

“Where did you put it?!”

“Why do you need to know, Jan!?”

Huh. This wasn’t how Logic figured he’d find out his arch nemesis’ name, but he wasn’t about to complain. What did strike urgency back into him was the progression of their conversation.

“Oh for the love of-! My plan to erase my nemesis is in danger!”

“Our EVENING is in danger!”, there was a soft sigh, “Look, Jan, we’ve had this reservation planned for months now! I’m gonna assume your nemesis is a little tied up at the moment,” , Logan rolled his eyes at such an awful pun, “So why don’t we just go enjoy our anniversary dinner and you can deal with him when you get back, alright?”

Horrifyingly, Deceit huffed a sigh, “I suppose it would be interesting to keep him suspended for a while, let the terror sink in. Good thinking, my love.” The sound of a light kiss and a chuckle could’ve made Logic lose his lunch. Or perhaps it was the idea of being held upside down for so long..

“Alright, Pat, if we hurry, parking shouldn’t be too awful...”

The intercom went quiet and now Logic could truly let the situation sink in; he’d have to remain suspended over boiling oil, watched by Deceit’s cronies, unable to save himself or-

Remus!

He’d almost forgotten about the odd gentleman. He turned to see him-

Oh, are you kidding me.

Remus was still out cold. How. How in the HELL could one man be asleep for so long?!

Logic didn’t like the idea, but he had little choice. Inhaling, he began to yell, “WAKE UP-” when something hard impacted his cheek. The blow sent his glasses hurtling onto the ground - thankfully missing the boiling oil at least - and breaking apart on impact. Dammit.

“Keep your mouth shut, Zero!”, one of the thugs chided, earning snickers from the other two and inciting them to join in on the jeering and insult hurling. Logic was just thankful that whatever had been thrown - he suspected a mug by the feel of it - must have been the single dispensable item at hand considering nothing else was thrown other than attempts at insults. The hero had no idea what was worse; the idea of dying from heart failure with the blood rushing to his head, or dying of sheer embarrassment knowing it’d happen while having to listen to these ignoramuses try to genuinely roast him.

Logic could already feel unconsciousness taking hold of him when the first thug began screaming. It took the last of his strength to turn towards the cacophonous cries of terror, but his vision was so blurred without his glasses, all Logic could see before he passed out were a pair of glowing green eyes and a whirlwind of obsidian tendrils.

When Logic awoke, the first thing he noticed was the cold breeze settling into his skin through his suit. Opening his eyes, the hero still couldn’t see clearly, but as he squinted, he began to make out stars and clouds. Shit, how long was he out?

“Wakey wakey, princess! You had me thinking you’d gone and died on me there!”, came Remus’ already unmistakable voice. Logic sat up, still reeling as he saw Remus approach him, getting clearer the closer he came until he was knelt down beside the hero.

“Here,”, Remus placed Logan’s broken glasses in his hand, “Sorry I couldn’t fix ‘em, it’s not exactly my expertise.”

Logic had so many questions already; how had they survived?! What had Remus done back at Deceit’s lair before he’d passed out?! Why did he still find it hard to use his powers even now he was free of the cuffs?! The hero frowned as his powers refused to work on his glasses. Remus - seemingly uncaring about Logic’s lack of a response - watched him attempt to work before he caught himself.

“Ah, wait. Lemme back up.”

The hero was confused as Remus backed away a good couple of feet from him on what Logic now recognised as the rooftop of the Crofter’s Hotel. He was about to ask for an explanation when he realised his powers were slowly coming back, reslotting the glass into the frames and straightening out the bridge and legs of the glasses. Order maintained once more, Logic donned the glasses, thankful for his vision stabilising.

“Thank you, Remus.”, Logic went to stand up, but he still felt lightheaded. Thankfully, Remus saved him from toppling over, catching him at the waist and helping him carefully sit back down.

“Careful, Specs. I don’t want my soulmate hurting himself-”

“Apologies, your what?!“

Logic was stunned to say the least; Remus had just thrown that out there like it was any old fact.

“Soulmate. Y’know, your cosmic companion, your destiny dictated darling, your fatemate!”, Remus listed excitedly, “You know all about it right? When you meet-”

“- your superpower is nullified around that person, yes, I am aware.”

Logic wasn’t sure what to think; he’d never paid much thought to his soulmate, in truth, he preferred to think of his work as his soulmate. Not that he didn’t like the idea of meeting the man the universe decided was his perfect match. Nor did Logic mind that the man was rather handsome in the mysterious cryptid kind of way. Logic gestured for Remus to sit with him and extended his hand to Remus for shaking,

“Logan Berrie.”, Logan offered, trying to settle back into his civilian mindset.

“Pie.”, Remus responded, low-fiving Logan’s hand.

“Pardon?”

“....We’re not playing a word association game?”

“.... I was providing you with my name, Remus.”

Remus grinned, “Wait, that’s your name?! That’s-”

“Ridiculous, I am well aware.”, Logan scowled, “I did go to school after all-”

“I was gonna say that’s awesome but whatever!”

Logan did poorly to hide his surprise as Remus laid back like he could fall asleep, “So Logan, how’d you fall in with ol’ Snake Face himself?”

Logan rolled his eyes, still propped up on his hands, “The same way all heroes are presented with their arch nemesis; he and I crossed paths and unfortunately, while we share some values, we have vastly differing opinions on how society’s problems should be fixed.”. He glanced over at Remus, fidgeting idly with the corner of the beat up long coat his soulmate wore.

“What was your transgression?”

Remus squinted at Logan for a second, “I’m cis.”

“... No. Transgression. What was it you did that made my nemesis target you? I noticed you addressed him by a rather flattering nickname earlier, so I assume you know of him personally.”

“Oooh.”, Remus grinned, snickering at just the memory of it, “I may or may not have pissed off his little brother.”

Well, that had Logan’s attention immediately. The hero lay on his side next to Remus, propping his head up on his hand, ready for the juicy details. He may have thought himself above gossip, but that didn’t mean Logan didn’t enjoy a good old tea party.

“How so?”

With a grin Logan was sure should’ve split his soulmate’s face in half, Remus proudly elaborated, “Well he and my twin brother were dating, and they had a bunch of friends and family all gathered for some bullshit, and my brother wants me to say something - a terrible decision, really - and I’m there kinda caught for what to say. So I’m having to think on the fly.”

“So, what did you do?”, Logan inquired, clearly getting sucked into the plot unfolding.

“I just said the first thing that popped into my head!”

Logan rolled his eyes once more, but there was a fondness to it this time. “Which was?”

Remus proudly cleared his throat, bringing a hand up to clasp an imaginary microphone, reciting perfectly from memory,

“To the seventeen people in this room that all wished they’d taken my brother’s virginity first, just remember this is the guy who got blackout drunk, cried because he couldn’t afford chicken nuggets, and scared a birthday party of kids when he puked up behind Chuck E Cheese’s back in college!”

The snort of laughter Logan let out was disgustingly ugly. He clapped his free hand over his mouth despite his giggling soulmate’s attempt to swat the hand away. Logan finally gathered himself,

“That’s amazing, oh my goodness.”

Remus excitedly beamed, “Ten tittied Christ, thank you!”

What a visual.

He continued to rant, “I knew it was funny! But nooooo! It was all “that's not an appropriate story, Remus”, or “How could you say that right now?!”! They were the ones who wanted me to ad lib a last minute speech! So what if I said it in front of hundreds of people at their wedding-?!”

Logan couldn’t help it, the bellowing laughter that tore out of him was too much to contain. When was the last time he’d laughed so heartily? Logan wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure when Remus joined in with his laughter, but by the time they were done, Logan had laid down next to his soulmate to stare up at the stars. Then a thought hit him,

“Wait, you said your brother and Deceit’s brother are married, correct? Making you and Deceit brother-in-laws? ”

Remus nodded, “Yep.”

“And you’re not on his side, but are-?”

“Nah,”, Remus predicted with a head shake, “Ditz-ney Prince and TT are both heroes, so there won’t be much of a problem with us being a thing. If that’s what you were worried about.”

Logan nodded, though his frown continued into his query, “Ditz-ney Prince and TT are… interesting hero names...”

Remus rolled his eyes as if it was obvious, “Nah, those are nicknames. My brother’s The Prince over in Sanders Town a couple miles out from here, and you probably know the Tempest Tongue-”

“I’m sorry, your brother is married to THE Tempest Tongue?!”, Logan interrupted, though he shot Remus an apologetic look for his outburst. His soulmate chuckled, “Sounds like someone’s a bit of a fanboy.”

“No, no,”, Logan assured him, frowning despite his obvious embarrassment, “Nothing so childish, I merely admire his work-”

“You think he’s hot-”

“I said no such thing-”

“You didn’t deny it either.”

Remus had him there. Logan punched him in the arm playfully and, as if to prove a point, shuffled closer until he was almost laying on Remus. There was a question on Logan’s mind still, and he finally verbalised it as his gaze fell back onto his soulmate,

“Might I ask, how did we escape? I hate to admit it, but I was passed out for the entirety of your rescue.”

“No shit, who do you think had to carry you?” Remus teased, “I just used my power, wanna see? It’s super fucked up-!”

“No. I mean, I would like to at some point, but I would rather we stay like this. For a little while.”

It felt like his cheeks were on fire, and the sweet smile Remus shot his way had Logan’s heart racing.

“Sure thing, Specs!”, he slid his hand along Logan’s arm and softly let it card through his dark hair, “And how about after we’re done here we go mess with Snake Face? ”

Logan grinned back at him; why shouldn’t they have a little fun after all?

“What did you have in mind?...”

-----

This was fun!

I haven’t written many hero fics before so I hope this is okay!

A big thanks to my friends in the discord for helping with this one when I had a writers block moment.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

#intrulogical #moceit #prinxiety #remus sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus #logan #janus #patton #soulmate september #im catching up i swear!#also just incase #emile is Sweet Pysche #and Remy is the Sandman

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chippa-thoughts · 4 years

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Felix is a Metaphor

Just like the Bakerix episode was a metaphor for interracial marriage, a lot of people picked up the fact that Felix is a metaphor for harassing/mistreating women. So let’s dive into it, shall we?

*SPOILERS FOR FELIX AHEAD, PLEASE WATCH THE EPISODE BEFORE READING THIS IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS*

⚠️ Also, I understand this may be a sensitive topic for anybody who has been a victim or knows somebody who has gone/is going through this sort of thing at the moment. So please be wary of this while reading. ⚠️ Also please note, whenever I say “women” or “boys” or “men” it’s just a generalization. The terms are fluid for everyone, but because Felix is a boy and Alya, Rose, Juleka and Ladybug are girls, my terminology is mostly stemming from that. None of the terminologies are meant to be malicious.

PRE-THOUGHTS: AS SOON AS the episode synopsis for Felix dropped all those months ago, I had the biggest hunch it would be taken in this direction because of who gets akumatized: Alya, Rose and Juleka. It said they were coming after Felix which meant he did something to upset them and I could only assume it was going to be a metaphor for mistreating women.

THEN THE TRAILER DROPPED and my suspicions were only moreso confirmed.

------------------------------------------------------------ ALRIGHT, LET'S DIG INTO IT. ------------------------------------------------------------

1. THE "VICTIMS"

Alya, Rose and Juleka are our beautiful, personable and lovely women who are akumatized as a result of Felix being manipulative, a liar and verbally abusive.

These are all the traits of the type of guy (and there are women who are like this too) who see women as objects, or as trophies to "conquer."

They start off looking like a nice guy - saying all the right words to make you feel good about yourself. Quite literally, they may be pretending to be somebody they're not. They may be impersonating someone else and lying about who they are just to impress you or put you at ease.

Only to reveal his true colours later on.

His words hurt them and they are left feeling disappointed and betrayed.

The fact that all 3 of them are akumatized could represent a situation where a guy has played multiple girls at once.

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

2. HAWKMOTH'S WORDING

The words he uses to akumatize people are usually a hint to the meaning of the episode.

In this case, 'the boy you thought was your friend' could be switched out with 'the boy you thought who liked you/flirted with you,' again, tying back to the description that boys like these always come off nice, or seem like your friend at first... until they cross the line.

Then this was their reply:

This is the kind of thing you would say to a boy who's played you or used you - otherwise, I don’t believe Alya, Juleka and Rose would get so easily akumatized over one mean video. I believe they were specifically akumatized as a demonstration to fulfil this underlying message.

Imagine a group of exes getting back at their abusive ex-boyfriend together.

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

3. NAUGHTY GIRL

I believe this was intentionally a piece of dialogue to represent when guys like these make promiscuous comments towards women such as referring to them as a "bad girl," in need of "punishment" (if you understand that innuendo).

Many people have come to critique this as ‘toxic phrasing’ which implies that the boy will assert his dominance because the woman is ‘asking for it/she deserves it.’

It's a common phrasing guys like these will use to flirt and 'get in,' but as the Trio of Punishers express: this is just terrible.

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

4. NO, MEANS NO!

And finally, this scene perfectly and ultimately captures their underlying message:

Let's go through it frame by frame:

Firstly, Felix grabs LB's hand in a manner she is startled and uncomfortable with.

Guys like these will often touch you or hold you unexpectedly or without permission, or, in ways that may make you feel uncomfortable. They often just help themselves to it, usually under this twisted mentality that 'you want it' or 'it must feel good.'

Ladybug in this scene represents women who face this situation and are startled, shocked, or taken aback by the sudden affection.

Look at the way she has clenched her fist - she's being protective of her hand now.

And this part:

Again, reiterating the idea about how guys like these tend to say things you want to hear. They'll seem nice, they'll seem like they care... but all they 'care' about is getting your guard down so they can slide in.

In more specific situations, guys might actually say they 'love you' because they know it works.

And Ladybug lets her guard down for a second because, in reality, it does sound nice at first.

And she has a bit of a gleam in her voice.

Then ooof Cue this twisted music, to match his twisted mindset.

The fact he trails off after "let me..." is to insinuate that real-life situation where guys want what they... want 👀

Then he starts advancing on her.

Look how uneasy it's making her. It's to simulate these real-life situations as I keep mentioning.

And backs her up into a wall.

Years ago, this was seen as the 'classic' move in shows, films and even cartoons to 'get' ladies. In fact, there's even a name for it in Japanese media called "kabedon" - the ‘wall push/wall slam/wallpin’ whatever you call it.��

But in this day and age, we realise it is showcasing some sort of ‘toxic masculinity’ where the guy is advancing dominance over a woman who: a). does not ask for it b). did not give consent.

But many new media forms are also using it ironically or satirizing it as a way of being subversive.

To heighten her discomfort, Cristina Vee adds these sounds and mumbles of discomfort.

And this frame is given a second or two for us to soak in.

The diagonal angle reinforces how twisted this is, Ladybug is shown to be helpless, startled and her limbs are spread against the wall, overshadowed by Felix's body.

This is how it used to be. The show is making a statement for how wrong this is.

She expresses her first "no."

And look at how disgusted and uncomfortable she looks.

But he ignores her refusal and keeps going, signifying men who don't respect other’s wishes.

And then our favourite moment:

punches him

Because Ladybug represents this forward movement with women.

This kind of behaviour should not be tolerated and no woman (and even man) deserves to be treated this way.

The staff behind Miraculous express their attitude towards this through Ladybug when she exclaims:

They want to tell you that "boys" like him are not worth your time. You should not have to put up with people who cannot respect personal boundaries and try to violate yours. Ladybug represents the idea that you deserve so much more than a guy who is manipulative, shallow and tries to weasel their way into your affection with cheap tricks.

The best part is, Cristina's comment about all this:

Felix is meant to represent the "bad boy," who thinks he's so suave with women when in reality, he's just a player, a cheat, and as Cristina says: not worth it.

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5. ENTITLED

One extra thing!

This line reveals one of Felix's key characteristics: he always gets what he wants. He thinks he's entitled. He gets away with everything. Hence why he thinks he can treat women the way he does.

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

Let me know your thoughts on this!

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ymiwritesstuff · 4 years

Text

Unfinished Business

This was the request I was initially very confused about but luckily the anon was kind enough to elaborate! Thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

The request: No problem! The idea was that reader learns about Dio bullying jojo/killing Danny and just takes a swing at him, knocking Dio on his ass. After that Dio keeps trying to win her over but she always resorts to a fistfight. It’s all fun and games until he turns into a vampire and punches don’t work anymore

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 1: Phantom Blood

Dio Brando x Fem!Reader

Summary: Confronting Dio and inflicting physical damage on him was undoubtedly one of your weirdest yet greatest achievements but never in a million years would’ve you guessed just how serious it truly was.

There were certain moments in your life when you got this gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right. A bubbling anxiety mockingly poking your insides, making it impossible to ignore. These moments were rare, but they were almost always there for a reason. Not once, had your gut feeling been incorrect or for naught.

And this piercing feeling was stronger than ever as soon as your (E/C) eyes landed on the adoptive son of the Joestars.

The sinister aura that seemed to surround Dio was undeniable. You were sure that behind those sharp eyes and that admittedly charming smirk was an underlying malicious intent that was just waiting for its moment to strike. He was good at hiding it, often using his talent with words and good looks to his advantage. It was absurd how easily he was able to use people and turn them into his followers he could never consider as friends. No matter how much he tried to appeal to you, -which was quite a lot as for some reason he seemed to be intrigued by you-, that alarming feeling you experienced when near him was telling you to get far far away from him, because something was definitely not right about him.

And when his own brother voiced his concerns about him, your suspicions were more than confirmed. When Jonathan told you all about the things Dio had done to him, your blood was practically boiling in anger, your mind not wanting to believe those horrible actions to be true. You were angry. Not only because of the horrible things the golden haired male had done, but also because of how sad your friend seemed to be. Jonathan didn’t deserve this. He hadn’t done anything and his life was so cruelly ruined by his adoptive brother.

How could someone do something like that? What twisted mind could bring so much suffering and misery to an innocent person’s life? Learning the truth about Dio made a part of you feel grateful for your feelings of anxiety as if it weren’t for them, you could have fallen victim to his charm, rendering you completely oblivious to his true nature.

But now that you knew exactly what was going on in the depths of Dio’s heartless mind, you allowed your wrath to take over your mind and blind you, causing you to quite recklessly make your way to the blond, unrelenting determination to defend your friend fueling you.

Your heavy, angry footsteps seemed to echo around the forest, your eyes filled with rage. Thanks to some “light” questioning from his followers, you gained information of his whereabouts, and were heading towards his location, your mind set on one very specific goal; To beat the shit out of him. You didn’t care if he was stronger than you, that very simple fact flew above your head due to your fury and the only thing you wanted to see was him laying on the ground, bleeding. Quite brutal, even from someone like you, but he deserved even worse than that.

When your (E/C) eyes see his figure leaning against a tree the only thing you can see is red, burning anger as you quicken your steps, unable to hold back any longer. Dio’s amber eyes turn to look at you, seemingly sensing your presence and his lips curl into that irritating smirk you had always hated. This time though, you want to wipe it off his face.

“(Name), what a surprise to see you here. How can I-” His smug voice gets cut off by your fist hitting his face, causing him to stumble back and fall on the ground. With a painful groan he grabs onto his now bleeding nose, a sight with pleases you greatly. Serves him right. His amber eyes look directly at you, filled with that same rage that fueled yours just mere moments ago. Before he has any time to yell at you for punching him so rudely, your stern voice comes forth:

“If I ever see you harming Jojo or if you even dare to come near me ever again, I’ll make sure that your nose won’t be the last thing I break.”

And with that one, simple sentence you withdraw from the scene, leaving Dio confused, angry but at the same time, extremely impressed.

The impact of your attack stuck onto Dio for years and only seemed to increase his already existing fascination with you. Of course, the bitter taste of something akin to defeat left its mark on his tongue upon the impact but at the same time Dio couldn’t help but to feel a sense of respect for you. The fact that you had managed to inflict such brutal damage on him was impressive and he was now far more intrigued by you.

But try as he might, he soon realized that trying to win you over was anything but possible. Whenever he so much as approached you, your fists found their way in front of you, your eyes glaring at him with undying spite and hatred. To avoid unnecessary conflict, Dio thought it best to leave you be -though he could easily overpower you-, despite wanting to use his manipulative tendencies on you as well as get revenge for that utterly insulting punch you had delivered all those years ago, as it still somewhat haunted him.

But when the overwhelming power of the stone mask engulfed him, so did his thirst for revenge.

Your slow walking comes to a halt when that familiar feeling of something not being quite right hits you after it has laid dormant for years. Your eyes quickly scan the area that’s covered in darkness thanks to the night surrounding the area, not noticing anything out of the ordinary but that feeling just won’t stop bothering you. It’s as if someone is watching your every move, following you around like a shadow. And then you hear it.

“My.. Aren’t you brave? Walking around the dark and dangerous streets all by yourself.”

That voice. “Who’s there?!” You immediately recognize it, but at the same time it sounds so different. As if it’s empowered by something very sinister. Cold shivers run down your spine as his chuckle echoes around the dark alleyway, your instincts immediately telling you to run. That’s what you try to do, but stop in your tracks when a dark figure you can only assume to be him lands in front of you. You notice the familiar amber eyes glowing dangerously, that same smirk dancing along his lips framing the sharp fangs in his mouth as he looks at you, that sharp gaze burning you like a flame.

Since running seems to be out of the question, you resort to the other method that had been successful last time, and swing your fist at him, hoping to make him stumble back again. Your efforts are in vain as he swiftly grabs your fist, his smirk only growing at the disbelief on your face.

“That’s not going to work on me, (Name). But this reminds me, we do have some unfinished business.” His grip on your wrist tightens and with it sends waves of pain throughout your entire arm. The anxiety and fear within you only increases as Dio’s intense gaze looks directly at you. This was bad.

Your heart races, your stomach twists in fear and before you even realize it, your eyes fill with tears as you only now realize just how bad of an idea it was to launch your fist at this monster’s face all those years ago.

#jjba #jojo #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure phantom blood #jojo dio #dio brando #dio brando x reader #dio #dio x reader #jjba dio #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #reader insert

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the-mangled-readings · 4 years

Text

Project AI0.043 (Part 5.5)

lA/N: Sorry it took me a long time, but I been really busy lately but I promise I'm a get back to writing!

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Story Summary: On the 12th Hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible. He got seven of them but never found the last one.

Chapter Summary: We get to know what happened to the Reader after Five left to the Present.

Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Language.

Word Count: 2,193

Tag List: @featuringcone9 @lesbianismybitchname @fiveisadorable @here-in-never-land sweetingcas @whatawildone

You watched the blue portal fade away right in front of your eyes, with your husband in it. Five was gone. He never meant to leave you behind, but you guys had already planned out everything since the beginning, but now that he was officially gone, your mind wasn’t at ease. All those years of being married, doing missions together, those nights where you guys would share each other's company, they were all gone. You knew he needed to come back to his family, to save them, and the world, but what about you ... You were his wife, and you were as important as his siblings. Weren’t you?

You were about to leave the area when everything stopped in time. You knew what this meant, she was here, and it wasn’t good.

“Well, well, well.” You heard a familiar voice from behind. “Looks like our beloved Five is gone for good.” The Handler smiled. You watched her walk around you like a predator, waiting to jump on its prey, but you notice her fidgeting, she would usually do this when she felt anxious.

“Something troubling you Miss ...” You teased, earning a small scoff from her. “You know, for someone that was thaught to be a deadly mercenary, I must say, you’re going soft.”

“Is that all you could come up with?” You quirked an eyebrow, making her roll her eyes. “No, Darling.” She finally stopped in front of you. “What I meant is that it’s a shame to see such a good Ace like yourself ...” She began to trail off, slowing getting closer to you. “Lower herself, just for a simple man.”

“He’s not just a simple man, he’s m-” You argued but was quickly cut off.

“Your husband, yes ... I am very aware of the atrocities you guys had done. It’s like Bonnie and Clyde never died.” She teased. “But if I may, you guys were also partners at the beginning. Did it ever occurred to you that maybe ... just maybe, he might have been using you all along just to get what he wanted?” She quirked her eyebrow and a small grin began to form in her lips. You knew this tactic, she was trying to manipulate your mind, like in the past.

“He would never do such a thing. I helped him because what we do is not right ...” You argued, making your fist light up a little. She quickly took notice of this and argued back immediately. “No, but it is OUR job to kee-”

“WHO SAYS ITS OUR JOB, HUH.” You interrupted her, your eyes were now glowing. “Look, Anya ... We all have our purposes in this world, the moment we’re all born, and if we do not follow our paths, it causes an imbalance to th-”

“How do you even know that ... See, this is what I mean. This Organization is all about following guidelines, submitting to the rules, but it shouldn’t be like that. We need to let things happen on their own.”

“I’m afraid, we cannot ... Otherwise, how will the world keep its balance? Everybody is taught differently, according to their cultures, religion, and legacies. We trained YOU with logic and facts, so you could see things clearly, but I’m afraid that your emotions got the best of you once again, so I’m a have to terminate this project ... and start all over.” She looked down, searching for her black sunglasses. “What ... What pro-” You suddenly felt a sharp pain in your neck, it was warm and it spread quickly, making your drop to your knees followed by the floor. “I will see you in a bit, my Dear.” She smiled coldly and waved at you before you lost conscience.

You suddenly woke up tied up in a bed, a shiver ran down your back, as you quickly recognized the cold and enclosed chamber, you began to panic. Its size was small but the ceiling seemed to never end. Your eyes darted everywhere, the small scratches and holes on the walls, made you remember why you were so scared of disobeying The Handler as a child.

“NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, with tears dripping down your cheeks. “LET ME OUT, OR I WILL BURN EVERYBODY IN THIS FUCKING BUILDING!” You clenched your fist but nothing came out. The only thing you could feel right now was anger and fear.

“I’m glad to inform you that it won’t happen any sooner my dear, not after that little incident we had many years ago.” You heard The Handler’s voice echoed through the walls. “We modified the chamber, so it can hold your powers and absorb them, meaning you'll just become a regular human ... but don’t worry we’ll use them for a good cause, for now, you need to sleep.”

Then a loud vibrant noise echoed through the chamber, making you feel lightheaded and nauseous. You tried to fight it but the more you tried you grew weaker and weaker.

“No ...” You whispered. “You’re all going to pay for this ...” With an unknown force, you began to scream even louder, and move agitatedly, with the noise still ringing in your ears.

You didn’t know how or for how long you had been screaming, but now, your voice was almost gone, you felt tired and weak. Your body shivered from the cold. Your eyes slowly scanned the room and fell into a small figure, a girl, sitting by the wall, her arms crossed above her knees covering her face, making it hard to see her clearly, but you did notice some bruises in her arms, and she was wearing a gown, maybe she was another poor victim they tried using.

You slowly tried to sit up but she quickly jumped under the bed, now crying.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You tried to sympathize with the little girl, only hearing her crying stop. “You can’t help me.” Her voice was raspy and distorted. “We’re only going to make it worse if we fight, or have forgotten already?” You slowly raised your head, only to find the girl floating above you and looking down at you, her tears dripping down into your face. Her bruises slowly began to spread and darken her skin until she was completely dark. “BECAUSE I HAVEN’T!” She screamed, while her body caught on fire, dripping her remainings on your body, making you caught on fire too.

“NO!” You screamed, yanking yourself off from the dream and from one of the restraints while getting forcefully pushed back into the bed by one large male nurse. “NO! LET ME GO.” You punched him on the jaw, only earning the same treatment back. It hurt like hell, the chamber did a great job at absorbing all of your abilities because now you were spitting blood.

You turned to the male and spit on his face, making him angrier but he was quickly pulled back by the other 3 nurses that entered the tiny room. Catching you off guard, one of the other nurses quickly injected you a yellow liquid, staining you instantly.

“AH !” You yelled, yanking it off your arm, stabbing her on the throat, making her drop to her knees and bleed out on the floor.

“Claudia!” The large male nurse yelled and was about to throw you another punch when you heard a familiar voice enter the room. “Adam, behave yourself.” The Handler ordered. “Please, let us be, we need to speak privately, and Oh dear God, please take that thing away from here.” She turned away, pinching her nose, blocking the smell Claudia’s body was releasing, while the rest of the nurses carried Claudia’s lifeless body out of the room. “Dear, Dear, you really don’t know when to stop do you?” She finally turned to you, a mocking smile spread on her face.

“I was taught by the best if I can remember.”

“That is true.” She nodded, still smiling. “Glad to know our training served you well.”

“Cut the bullshit, what do you want.” You snapped, making her frown. “My, my, someone is cranky today, aren’t we.”

“What did that nurse inject me with, it burns.”

“Well ... you put us in a very difficult situation, Anya. You see you’re the only one with enough power to stop the Apocalypse, and even to create one, so we can’t let you go ... and we can’t kill you either. So there’s only one appropriate solution, for these types of situations. We injected you with a neuro-acid which will put you in a permanent coma. Exactly what we had planned at the beginning ... ”

Your heart instantly jumped at the word “Coma”.

“No, YOU CAN’T ...”

“It will be a simple and elegant way to ... put an end to our collaboration ... Just so you know, we will always be grateful for your help. Goodbye, my Dear.” You watched The Handler walk away, but you noticed another young woman standing by the door before being shut behind her.

“That girl ... I remember her.” You said to yourself but the neuro-acid began to hit you immediately. Your breathing became heavier, and your vision was slowly becoming blurry. The room was spinning, and your body felt numb, it was like floating on water, but you couldn’t move nor speak.

“No, no, no, no, no, n-” You thought before shutting your eyes.

You were now trapped inside your own mind, floating in the darkness and cold.

“Five ...” You whispered to yourself. “Help me ...”

“Poor thing ...” You heard a woman’s voice echoed through the darkness. “Such waste ... I thought you were stronger ... I guess I was wrong.” She continued.

“Wh-who a- ...” You tried to speak, but nothing came out, you couldn’t even make a phrase in your mind. “I am what lives within you ... I’m that small spark that makes the REAL ... you.” She began. How did she even hear you, or even knew what you wanted to ask? “I believe I told you, I am part of you ... (Y/N).”

You tried moving your head around, but you couldn’t. “Help ... me.” You begged to the unknown voice.

“It’s cute how hard you try ... Look at you, you’re just weak, you’re flawed, helpless, you’re nothing.”

“Please, hel- ...”

All of a sudden, you regained your strength and sat up from the bed you had been tied up. The darkness changed into bright and warm colors, making a trail from the ceiling to right in front of you, and that’s when you finally saw the woman. Her skin was pale, and her hair was white, she was dressed in black, much to your likeless she kinda looked like The Handler, but also like somebody else, she was facing away from you. “Your mind seems to be troubled.” She asked, tilting her head to the side. You took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m ... Is this an illusion? Or a dream?” You asked, but the woman turned and stared at you blankly. “Only if you want it to be.” And with that, she turned away from you again. “What did you mean by I am what lives within you.” You slowly got up from the bed, walking towards her.

“I saved you many years ago when you were a child ... you were just a lab rat back then, they have been using for their stupid experiments. Their preservation of the time continuum ... It’s just a Fantasy, no one, but US can actually keep the timeline intact ... we can even alter it.” She finally turned to face you, her eyes were dark, lifeless, but her stare somehow had a heavy feel to it. “We’re the creators of Worlds, (Y/N). We can do whatever ... we ... want.” She spoke, raising her hand, the colors changed drastically, forming stars and planets. “When I came to this planet, I heard a call, YOUR call, they had been torturing you for years and I could feel it. They tried to understand the origin of your powers, but little did they know that they were just looking at the tip of the iceberg. (Y/N) do you have any idea of what you are truly capable of?”

“Why do you keep calling me like that ...” You asked, bewildered. “Because that is your real name before they stole it away.” This time, her tone changed into a more warm and comforting. “Your real name is (Y/N) (Y/LN). You were born just outside (THE CITY YOU WERE BORN), your mother and father, (YOUR PARENTS NAME), loved you dearly, but they had no idea of what they were getting into.”

“What happened to them?” You looked at her, tears falling down your cheeks.

“My dear (Y/N), this is going to be painful to hear but, now we have an eternity to talk about it, so let me tell you what really happened, from the beginning and to the reality you know today ...”

#The Umbrella Academy #The Umbrell Academy fanfiction #The Umbrella Academy fanfic #The Umbrella Academy imagine #The Umbrella Academy x Reader #number five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves fanfic #Five Hargreeves fanfiction

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hollenka99 · 4 years

Text

The One Where More People Die

Summary: Marvin confronts Anti and learns something he wishes he hadn’t.

Warnings: Mentions of death, murder and manipulation

Marvin is apprehensive when he approaches the door. He honestly shouldn't be involving his brother in his superhero issues. Still, he was hopeful Sean would talk sense into him. The meeting proceeds as usual with coffee and chatter on the sofa. Marvin takes advantage of a natural lull in conversation.

"If I kill Anti, will you forgive me?"

He has never seen such a double take of this magnitude. "Marv, that's- fuck. You know I've always got your back as your brother but holy shit. You can't just dump that question on me."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just... I've been fighting this guy for years and he won't stop. Desperate times, desperate measures, you know?"

Sean places both his hands on Marvin's shoulders. "Listen to me, you are being super irrational right now. I get that you are extremely done with him, I do. But can you even hear yourself at the moment? Please tell me you can."

"One guy to s-"

"Oh no, we are not going there. Don't you dare start bringing these morality thought experiments into the conversation. This isn't some hypothetical situation, Marvin. This is real life. You are talking about killing an actual person. An extremely shitty person but still. I obviously can't speak from experience but I don't have to when I say it will fuck you up for a very long time. I am begging you, don't get your hands dirty. Hang on."

Sean abruptly heads to a mirror to scrutinise himself. When he goes to face his brother, he looks like a bootleg version of Anti. The hair's not long enough or the right shade of green. Nor is his skin as pallid as the true killer's. Also, Anti's ears seemed to be slightly pointed at the top, which Sean is probably not aware of. Still, for someone who has never seen Anti in person before, it's a decent attempt.

"Find a way to arrest me and get me to rot in jail. After all I've done, don't you think I deserve to?"

Marvin has stopped looking at his brother. Instead, he is pressing his face into his raised knees at the corner. "Please don't change into him. Come on, pretending to be him is a shitty thing to do."

"Yeah, no, you're... you're right." He returns to the sofa as himself before swinging an arm around Marvin's shoulder to pull him in. This would have to suffice as a conclusion to the subject for now.

----

Jackie is one of the first to witness Marvin's ecstasy when he is able to prevent one of Anti's attacks. It had been a chance encounter while he had been patrolling in the park. Anti's mistake was shifting prematurely. All it took was a small distraction to allow the potential kidnapping victim a chance to escape. Cat hadn't seen where the guy had run off to but at least he was safe. The only bad outcome was Anti disappearing from sight as well. Someone's life had been saved, Jackie encouraged him to focus on that.

Jackie decides to surprise him with cupcakes for when he comes home from a shift. The gesture goes down well. Marvin brings up his recent good deed again as they sample the baked goods. Jackie is really glad to see his friend in a better mood. He's seemed so stressed lately. Marvin won't confirm it but he can tell it's linked to his work as the Magnificent Cat.

Joel drops by to hang out with his Irish friends later on in the week. He certainly does his best to act as he does normally but it is clear something's on his mind. When Jackie temporarily walks outside the building for a smoke, he is surprised to see his friend follow him. They make small talk for a couple minutes before Jackie delicately questions whether Joel was okay. He reveals there'd been a death in the family, his grandfather. And no, seriously, there's no need to apologise out of sympathy. Joel rambles a little about the man before voicing an odd request. He asks about Jackie's father. Jackie doesn't understand how that will help things but there was no harm in humouring his grieving friend so fuck it. He's slightly taken aback by the fact this causes fresh tears to appear. It gets mentally brushed off as this being a highly emotional time for Joel.

Marvin interrupts the conversation when he calls down from the balcony for them to return already.

"I feel sorry for him. At least I knew this was coming for a while. Shit's going to hit the fan hard for him soon and he has no idea."

Joel doesn't elaborate. Jackie isn't sure he wants him to.

---

Jameson had better things to do on a Tuesday night than deal with his tormenter. Yet here the asshole was, dressed in skinny jeans and a dark t-shirt, leaning against the doorframe. Under different circumstances, perhaps the glowing red light that leaked into the hallway would have been pretty to notice. It's far from it when Jameson's swaying to music with his daughter in his arms gets rudely interrupted.

"Cool, huh? I think our meetings needed a bit of jazzing up. Where's Laura, by the way?"

"None of your concern." The radio transmits.

"Oh, we're doing this via radio?"

"I am holding a baby and I don't trust you to behave long enough for me to put her down. So yes, as much as I hate it, I am using a radio."

"Right. Well, anyway, the reason I'm here is because-"

"I am not your reset button. Fix your problems on your own."

"So you'll let a woman stay dead, knowing full well you could have saved her life?"

"I am not the one who killed her."

Anti does not appear to be impressed with this response. Arms still crossed, he walks in Jameson's direction. As he passes, clearly on the way to the front door, he delivers a side eye to the performer.

"You know the cool thing about having the gene? There's always something you can refine, explore or expand upon when it comes to your abilities. I suggest you keep that in mind."

Despite Anti's absence, Jameson doesn't feel like having fun this evening anymore.

---

Anti clearly wasn't too pleased about something. The news claims it doesn't know who is responsible for bodies showing up with evident trauma to the skull. Honestly, who else could it be? If Marvin's mind wasn't so preoccupied with recent developments, he may have noticed how suspicious it was to receive correspondence from his enemy shortly after venting to Sean about the new murders.

The note delivered personally by the sender to the apartment reads:

Alright Cat, town centre at 3 tomorrow?

Oh definitely. Marvin wouldn't miss this opportunity to end things once and for all if he tried.

Anti was a trickster, he already knew that. If there was somebody he could shift into, he would. And yet Cat was still momentarily shocked to find Jameson waiting for him. It's not him though. He can't exactly tell how he instantly knows but he does. The real Jameson is likely at home right now.

"Alright Anti, what are you trying to prove? You've already made it very clear you've done your research into my personal life. Why my cousin?"

The murderer begins speaking through his hands. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"No. Jameson can't speak and definitely wouldn't use his sound manipulation to pretend he could. You've been speaking the whole time I've known you. Do your homework more thoroughly before trying to frame him."

"Alright, you got me. Not Jameson. I wanted to have a little fun with it but I guess that's not going to happen."

No, it certainly wasn't. The door bursts open. Wind rushes in. Anti is thrown to the floor. The Magnificent Cat wastes no time ensuring he remains there. Weight on the chest, hand at the throat and fist raised to potentially target the face. A moment passes as Anti processes the rapid succession of events. That's when he resorts to the worst tactic. The person Cat threatens now looks like Sean.

"How dare you." He feels the cheekbone for a second when his knuckle connects with it. "Stop looking like my brother."

"It's me!"

"He is the last person you should shift into if you want me to listen." The nose is targeted.

"Marvin please."

"Shut the fuck up."

"It's me, I swear. It's actually me." Anti is beginning to produce crocodile tears now. As if that would work on Cat.

"Why the hell should I believe you?"

Anti wriggles his fingers. They spark slightly. Cat misses this detail, preoccupied with glowering. He certainly pays attention when Anti causes his own hair to stand as he moves his hands around it. Sean loved performing that trick when they were younger. Oh shit. Marvin rapidly removes himself from his brother.

The situation de-escalated, the two brothers allow themselves to have the past few minutes catch up with them. Marvin sits with his knees up, one arm around them while the other rests on his forehead. Sean, meanwhile, remains on his back while covering his entire face with his hands. His nose is bleeding as a result of the hit. They breathe.

"Are you alright? I'm s-"

"Oh, sure." The hands are moved so they don't obstruct his mouth anymore. Now the heels of them are being pressed into his eyes. "My baby brother just punched me in the face a few times but yeah, doing grand." Arms flopping to the side, Sean turns his head to face Marvin. "But would we be brothers if we didn't have fights?"

"Don't joke about that."

"I'd honestly take being beat up over having a knife aimed at me."

"I'm so sorry. I thought he shifted into you to try get me at a disadvantage. I-"

"Stop. We'll be here all night."

Eyes still springing tears, Sean forces himself to sit upright. Marvin takes this as his cue to strongly embrace his brother. Sean reciprocates the pressure following a moment of surprise. The brothers remain in each other's hold for as long as it takes for tonight's events to truly sink in.

"I want to go home."

Marvin couldn't agree more with that desire. At Sean's apartment, the two of them sit quietly on the sofa. Neither seems to know how to break the silence.

"You don't have to talk. But I wouldn't mind some answers."

"No, you're right. You deserve the truth."

Sean's tale begins when he is 16. One of the other boys from school had been following him home and harassing him. That nuisance combined with the foul weather made him want to get home as soon as possible. While taking a shortcut through a field, Sean had lost his cool and whipped round to confront the kid. All it had been was a shove. Of course, poorly suppressed aggression had to be translated into something. And when you have electricity at your disposal? Those results can prove deadly.

"He was just there on the ground. And I was 16, you know? What the hell do you do when you've just committed manslaughter? Then everyone started talking about it. I had so many opportunities to turn myself in but never did."

"Why didn't you then?"

"You're going to hate me for this but uh... you. Well, you and the fact it had been rough weather that afternoon anyway. No, don't look at me like that. You were like 6 or whatever. As if I was going to leave you alone with our parents just because my powers acted out for a second."

"I kinda remember it being on the news." Marvin mutters numbly. "...You killed someone."

"It gets worse."

As it turned out, Sean had befriended a fellow student called Will Andrews while at university. The two of them had organised a drinking session together. He had gone a little too far that night and unwittingly revealed the secret he'd believed he would take to his grave. Unbeknownst to Sean at the time, Will had the gene. In Will's case, it had manifested in the form of possession. It allowed him to completely take over the individual and, in cases like Sean's, use their power to his advantage. He'd then proceeded to blackmail Sean by threatening to turn him over to the authorities if Will wasn't allowed to have his way.

As Marvin allows himself time to silently process this, he glances at the portrait hanging on the wall. It's a picture of Sean, some 10 years younger and with barely any facial hair, as well as a woman with her black hair plaited past her shoulder. They're both evidently very happy in each other's company. Marvin would hope so, since they were dating. Or, at least, had been before Emily had ended it in the worst way. All Marvin remembers from that night is Sean going out for the evening, Emily coming over with her key and them ending up hanging out until Marvin reluctantly went to bed. Then being informed the next afternoon after school that her body had been found in a nearby river. His brother had been a wreck following what she had done.

"Was Emily alone that night?"

"Don't."

"She wasn't, was she?" It's clear Sean is unable to say 'no' aloud. However, from the way this topic appears to be his breaking point, he doesn't need to.

Marvin doesn't push it. He'd never understood how she could have been so happy while chilling with him then deliberately drown hours later. However, being 13 at the time, he'd simply taken Sean's word that it was a far more complex issue than he likely could grasp.

"This Will guy's been making you kill all this time?"

"Yes." A voice crack within the whisper.

They meld into one from the force of Marvin's arms around him. "I'm so sorry. I wish you would've told me earlier so I could have helped."

"Not your responsibility." is mumbled.

"As if I'm going to let you be upset just because I'm younger. Tell your single braincell that, Zapper."

-----

A man with green hair walks into the nursery. It's a lovely room, the little girl's parents hadn't done a bad job when preparing for her arrival. The majority of the walls are light blue, white clouds dotted about. Hardly a masterpiece but he's sure the 10 month old didn't mind too much. Little Freya had been peacefully dozing in her crib until he'd approached. Ah, even while sleeping, she proved to be her father's daughter. She begins stirring as she is lifted. Anti ensures her senses give her no reason not to settle. Still, that baby monitor wasn't purchased for no reason.

As if on cue, Jameson comes cautiously speed-walking through the door. His anxiety rapidly morphs into contempt.

"Sorry to disappoint, it's just me."

"Get out of my house."

"How about... no. Or at least, not yet."

Baby in his arms, he makes himself comfortable in the armchair positioned in the corner.

"A man repeatedly breaks into your house and now is holding your child. You're awfully calm for someone in this situation."

"You are in no way a threat to her."

"Oh really? I could do it. Just a few seconds and I'll be giving you my condolences."

"We both know you're not going to."

"You're really prepared to call my bluff in this situation? Somehow, I don't think you're stupid enough to risk your daughter's life."

"I'd simply rewind a few minutes."

"What about this afternoon?"

"Oh for the love of god."

"Marvin caught me off guard and it ended with me giving him a bullshit story. Obviously, he can't know any version of the truth."

"No."

"Jamie-"

The performer holds his hand upright. "How many times must I say 'no'? If he knows any part of the truth then good. He deserves to stay safe from your deception."

"Tried to frame you today, you know. He's thankfully too smart for that trick. But could you imagine if it had worked? Dozens of counts of murder will land you a whole life order. If they found you guilty, there's no minimum term. It's not like you'll re-enter society when she's in her 20s. No, you'll be there until you keel over."

"There is no evidence. I can't be convicted."

"But Anti's been seen at countless crime scenes. By none other than the guy who frequently collaborates with the police. You'd certainly be a suspect if he chose to talk."

"Then I would explain the shapeshifting serial killer has decided to use an innocent and well loved performer as his scapegoat."

The light suspended from the ceiling flickers. The disturbance increases speed until the lightbulb can't take the abuse any longer. Jameson simply sighs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or facepalm to emphasise his thoughts on this display. Time halts. Extracting Freya from Anti's arms is relatively easy. As soon as he touches her and wills it, she exists outside of time with her father. A safe distance from the man, his daughter safely in her crib as she should be, Jameson grants Anti the privilege of being freed from a temporal limbo.

"Grow up already." He glowers. "I am done with this little 'partnership' of ours. We both know you would never intentionally harm me or Freya. And don't you dare even consider laying a hand on Laura."

Anti puts his hands in the air so they are parallel to his head. "Alright, I get the message."

"Tell Marvin the truth. The real truth."

"Like hell I'll do something so stupid."

"Either you tell him or I will."

"We both know I would never risk him walking out of my life."

"The truth will come out eventually and it will be better if it comes from you. As for people leaving your life, well... I would have physically distanced myself long ago if there were not things keeping me rooted here."

"Really?"

This is evidently the final straw for Jameson. "You have abused my powers for your advantage, dressing it up as if I am doing justice. You have threatened the people I love so that I feel incentivised to do as you say. I struggle to sleep and I assure you it is not because I have a baby. You have made my life a misery and I have no obligation to play nice. Even when you stop looking like that, I don't want to be around you. But of course, I pretend the opposite is true to protect you. And yet, and yet, after all that stress and strife, you have the gall to act as if I owe you loyalty. I never have."

"I uh... didn't get all of that, sorry. But-"

"Then perhaps this will be a good summary." With one finger, he does indeed condense his message to something much more universally understandable.

"He won't forgive you for keeping this from him, you know." Anti remarks.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"Whatever."

Anti begrudgingly makes his exit. The whole time he travels home, he wonders how much time he has left before the inevitable catastrophic end of all he's known.

#jumbled au #my writing #tw death mention #I am going out for a birthday meal out and I am hyped to see what the reactions to this are

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mintymiknow · 5 years

Text

Scintilla - ch. 6 | Bang Chan

summary & more info | masterlist

Characters: Stray Kids, Reader

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Summary: Perhaps the saying “too good to be true” was an accurate description of what was about to go down in your seemingly smooth-sailing life, and a certain revelation may have started that downward spiral.

Genre: Royal fantasy [Red Queen AU]

Word count: Approx. 7.6k

Warnings: Fight scenes, mentions of blood and violence

A/N: Ch. 6 is here! 👀 Sorry for the long wait. I was studying for my finals next week. I was able to finish this since I decided to take today as a break. I’m studying with friends tomorrow anyway~ So, this chapter may be one of my favorite chapters so far, and I personally like how things went down in here. Enjoy! Like always, don’t be afraid to talk through the asks :>

Several days had passed since the Grand Festival took place, and you still could not stop thinking about a certain someone, and a certain something that he did. Changbin, being the best brother in existence, could not stop teasing you and would often make kissy sounds when you were together. You’d have to smack his arm several times to shut him up, not wanting to get unnecessary attention from Hyunjin, Seungmin, or Minho. Technically speaking, being in love with Chan – a rebel – was the biggest “no-no” among all the rules of royalty.

But, were you really in love? Was this really “love” you were feeling towards Chan?

Maybe that was why being with him was always something to look forward to, especially when he looked at you like nothing else mattered – no bad blood, no scheming, no stupid royalty – nothing.

But it wasn’t just the overly-romantic, “swoon-worthy” moments you had with Chan that made you happy. Even as you “mock-sparred” with him at a grassy field somewhere in the outskirts of District 9, you felt your heart bursting with joy. The thrill of using your abilities to the fullest, the rush of adrenaline as you tried to keep up with a seasoned fighter – it was all exhilarating.

You surprisingly kept up with Chan as you exchanged a little hand-to-hand combat with each other. Though if you were being completely honest, you had a hunch that he was simply holding back. Most of the punches were coming from you, and Chan simply dodged or blocked them. “I didn’t know princesses knew how to fight.” Chan jokes.

“Yeah?” you throw another punch, “All the Elites kind of have to be trained. It doesn’t help when Minho was the one I usually trained with.”

“Yikes.” Chan laughs, “Must have been torture.”

“At first, but we got used to it.” you grin, igniting a flame on your fist before aiming it at the male.

Chan quickly reacts, pivoting as he grabs your wrist. You expected him to punch back or bring a kick to your stomach, but he instead pulls you towards him with a rather innocent grin. “Well, you’re going to need that when you become queen.”

You smile up at the male, eyes gleaming with admiration. He mischievously winks, and you tilt your head in response. Suddenly, you hear a piercing, ear-shattering sound accompanied by a small popping in the air in the space between your bodies. You jerk back, realizing Chan did that with his powers. “Did Minho ever teach you to not get distracted in a fight?” the male smirks.

Slapping your ear to relieve yourself of the lingering and irritating sound, you throw a smirk back at Chan, “Of course he did.”

“So you’re saying I’m too distracting?”

“Your words, not mine.”

You charge at him once again, a flurry of punches and kicks flying towards Chan. He expertly blocks all your attempts, occasionally swinging a few strikes himself, careful not to actually hurt you. With one particular punch, you duck and grab his arm, holding it close to you so that you could flip him over or strike from behind. Chan, however, uses his other hand to grab your wrist, spinning you around so that you were now caged in his arms. With your back against his broad chest and strong arms around you, you feel your heart go up in flames. “You fight rather well for someone with a pretty face.” Chan whispers, breath tickling the shell of your ear.

You angle your head to smirk at him, “Pretty face, huh?” you squirm free from Chan’s hold before smirking wider, “Rich coming from someone who looks like he could be a prince.”

Chan finds himself laughing, but his gleeful expression quickly morphs into something much more serious when you shoot a fireball at him. He chuckles before making use of the soundwaves to dodge your attack with accelerated speed. After a few more shots, you chuckle, “I thought you said you controlled sound!”

Another fireball. “You didn’t say anything about having speed!”

Chan dodges yet another attack before suddenly veering around behind you. He grabs your wrists from behind and grins, “Ever heard of sonic speed, y/n?”

“Can’t say I have.” you smirk, shifting around to elbow the male.

He evades it by a mere millimeter, and you take the opportunity to swing your leg below, kicking his ankle in the process. The impact causes him to fall on his back, but not without dragging you down with him. You become a mess of tangled limbs on the grass with Chan smirking up at you. You conceal a giggle before relaxing in his arms, “How does it work?”

Chan stares up at the sky, absentmindedly combing his fingers through your hair, “I basically manipulate the soundwaves around me so I can travel faster than the speed of sound.”

“That’s interesting.” you chuckle, “Newblood abilities are so fascinating.”

“Woojin’s is the most fun, if you ask me.” Chan laughs, “Gravity is everywhere.”

“Have you been victimized by Woojin’s abilities?”

“Too many times to count.” Chan grins. “We train as well, and whoever faces off with Wooj, well…let’s say they don’t get it easy.”

He slowly sits up, shifting your position so you sat on his lap. He grins up at you when you start picking flowers from the grass and placing it behind his ear. “Tell me about the Silver side.”

You shrug, “Well, we all started basic training when we were about 8 years old. As we got older, we had the whole ‘mock battles’ and duels with each other. Minho was never easy to beat, but I did manage to burn his hair a few instances. He didn’t talk to me for a week. Oh, and Changbin! Bin’s really great too.”

Chan listens to you blabber on and on about what it was like getting to punch Minho, or Hyunjin freaking out every time Changbin aimed at him with fire, or how Seungmin had everyone wrapped around his finger. Your eyes were gleaming, telling the stories through the immense glimmer they held, and Chan couldn’t help but soften his heart even more.

“What? Why are you just smiling and staring there?” you ask, poking his cheeks playfully.

Chan chuckles, clasping his hands around yours, “Nothing. I just realized that you love to tell stories.”

“Yeah?” you quietly chuckle, “Mother always told us stories – me, Changbin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and even Minho would listen to her endless narrations.”

When Chan notices how your eyes seem to darken like cloudy skies, he gently tilts his head to the side. “You’ve never talked about your mother before. You always mention your father.”

You play with the chain necklace that hangs around Chan’s neck; its cold surface feels nice in your fiery hands. “Mother passed away when I was 12. She was always sickly, so it didn’t surprise the Silvers. Still, it was devastating, and I think that was one of my lowest moments in life.”

Chan gingerly places a finger under your chin, making you look directly in his eyes. “I bet she was a great woman.”

“She definitely was. But I guess she and Father are now happy together.” you chuckle. “I wonder if they’d be proud of the person I’ve become.”

“Hmm.” Chan hums, reaching up to gently caress your cheek as a calm smile slips its way onto his lips, “I’m sure they are.”

“Enough of this, I hate getting mushy.” you laugh, attempting to get off of Chan’s lap.

The male, however, had other plans. He devilishly smirks as he keeps you close to him, arms wrapped around your waist. “Who said you could leave?” he laughs, finding amusement at your squirming.

You playfully slap his arms, his chest, and basically every other part of him before breaking into a big smile, “Chan! What are you doing? I want to get up!”

“Our little battle from a while ago isn’t over, y/n.” he chuckles.

Before you can protest or squiggle out of his grasp, he attacks your waist with tickles. You let out a sharp scream before flailing around. Changbin would probably joke about how you looked like a dead fish, but that was beyond the point. “Chan!” you breathe out, “Stop! Ah! I’m very ticklish!”

Chan continues to attack you mercilessly, the twinkle of mischief in his eyes unending. He laughs, “I’ve found your weakness, princess.”

“Chan! Please!” you say in between fits of laughter, cheeks hurting from laughing too much, “No!”

What started as a tickling battle – or more like tickling assault – eventually developed into a playful wrestling match. You tightly grip Chan’s wrist, moving his arms as far away as possible. “No more tickling for you, Bang.”

Chan pretends to struggle in your hold, his smile almost enough to distract you from your immense efforts to keep his fingers away. “Can you really hold me down, princess?”

“I’m stronger than you think.” you argue with gritted teeth, obviously using all your strength to stop Chan’s minimal attempts to tickle you.

When he smiles wider and laughs a bit louder, his dimples expose themselves, and you find yourself melting at his carefree appearance. Who gave him the right to look that cute? This gives Chan enough time to maneuver himself, moving around and flipping you over so that you were the one laying on the grass. He hovers above you, using his arms to support himself. You feel your cheeks heating up, and you mentally blame your innate abilities for your increased body temperature. “Getting hot?” Chan whispers dangerously close to your ear, his breath fanning your now-sensitive skin.

You place your hands on his shoulders as if trying to push him away, but really, you didn’t make any move to do so. “I’m always hot.”

When Chan’s lips curl into a smirk, you blush even redder and smack his chest, “No, no, no! Chan! Not in that way!” you feel the embarrassment pulsing in your veins, and maybe the ground should just swallow you whole right now. “I mean, my Burner abilities naturally give me higher and warmer body temperatures than other people…so like…I am…hot.”

Chan decides to aggravate you even more by simply remaining silent, staring at your already flustered face with an intensity so heavy, your heart starts going crazy. With one arm still supporting his weight, his other arm clamps onto your waist, his touch feather light, yet you feel every sensation that sends tingles under your skin. He drags his hand lower to your hips at a dangerously slow pace, and you find yourself holding your breath. “I can see that.” he whispers lowly.

Just as Chan’s eyes become lidded, yours go wide, watching every gesture the male does. Your heart beats in anticipation as Chan lowers himself, lips ghosting over yours so temptingly. When his lips brush over yours for a split second, your breath hitches as you grip his shoulders tighter, causing him to chuckle in delight yet again. He found it rather amusing that someone as confident and fiery like you were a melting mess when it came to him.

“Are you afraid, y/n?” he speaks lowly, lips brushing against yours yet again.

It takes a lot of concentration on your part to not get lost in that buzzing sensation. You shake your head softly, moving one hand along his neck before it lands just under his jaw, “I don’t think I am.”

Chan doesn’t know what compels him to do his next actions – placing tender kisses all over your neck – but he doesn’t protest, and neither do you. This was dangerous territory, you both knew that, but perhaps living dangerously was something you both had come to agree upon. Perhaps every cell, every fiber in your bodies just told you to let go. It was like there was some sort of inherent instinct prowling inside both of you that just naturally connected you to each other no matter what logical reasoning there was against it. Chan was basically playing with fire at this point, almost quite literally. Fascinating how powerful emotions could be in dictating one’s actions, right?

His soft neck kisses slowly turned into gentle nipping, and the feeling his lips and teeth had on your skin felt so right at that moment, burning you up even more as if your own flames were enveloping you. You both remain peacefully quiet with the only sound being heard coming from the rustling of leaves from trees nearby. Or…Chan simply filtered all unnecessary noises out so that he could truly share this moment of intimacy with you.

As he continues his endeavors along the junction between your neck and shoulder, you reach up to tangle your fingers with his platinum hair, finding enjoyment in its softness with a contented sigh escaping your lips. Chan’s nibbles and wandering hand comes to a halt when he hears light rustling nearby. He lifts himself up just enough to give you space before whispering, “Someone’s coming.”

“Oh, gosh.” your eyes go wide as you say a silent prayer, hoping that it’s not Minho, or any Silver at that. In fact, you prayed no one was there and that Chan was just hearing things.

Tough luck. Chan never just “hears things”; if he was gifted with the ability to control sound, then he was also very sensitive to all sounds.

However, his sharp gaze immediately softens at the sight of the approaching figure, and you start to wonder why. Chan gets up, eyes crinkling with thrill as he stretches out his arms to accommodate a brown-and-white dog. A dog? Chan kneels down, an endearing giggle escaping his lips when the animal leaps into his arms. The male sits on the grass, gleefully playing with the dog in his arms. You scuttle over to them, sitting next to Chan. “Is this SKZ’s dog or something?” you chuckle.

Chan shakes his head, “Mine. Well, technically, when Woojin and I were kids, we found Berry as an abandoned puppy and we took care of her ever since.”

“Berry?” you giggle at the soft-sounding, adorable name, “That’s cute. I didn’t know you guys had a dog. I’ve never seen her when…well, when we hang out.”

Chan smiles, rubbing Berry’s tummy, “She’s usually in the house, roaming around and cuddling with at least one person. Woojin must have let her go out.”

Chan’s occasional giggles and words of adoration towards Berry bring a euphoric melody to your ears, and it reaches deeper, tugging at your heartstrings. You chuckle to yourself, unaware of the fact that you’ve inched closer to the male. You slowly bring your gaze to his face, scanning every inch your eyes could see. You felt your heart melt at how his eyes held an entire galaxy filled with stars of pure joy as he lovingly pet his dog. You felt the butterflies in your stomach go wild as Chan’s tender coos escaped his lips, the sound nothing short of fondness. Here, right before your very eyes, was a rebel who had gone through so much. The snotty Silvers callously insinuated that his kind were “dangerous” or “murderous monsters” just because they weren’t born into elitedom. Yet as he played with his precious pet, you saw nothing but a normal young man who was simply relishing in the simplicity and bliss of mundane things. He was no different from the Silvers laughing about in Miroh, or the jolly citizens mingling in Elysium. They were wrong. They were all wrong, and your father was right. At this thought, you gently rest your chin on his shoulder, eyes still gleaming with awe as you look up at him.

Chan chuckles at the contact and tilts his head to look at you, “What?”

You blink a few times before breaking out into a wider smile. “Nothing, nothing.” you muse, expression softening even more.

Chan’s lips quirk into a smirk before he places a gentle kiss on the bridge of your nose. The action surprises you for a second, but you still end up giggling and scrunching your nose a bit too cutely for Chan’s heart to handle. Berry leaps from his arms to prance about in the field, chasing what seemed to be a butterfly. Chan takes this opportunity to lay his head on your lap, staring at you with his unwavering eyes. “I have a very serious question for you, y/n.” he whispers, and you feel your heart leap like a frog.

“What’s that?”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Chan asks, expression rather serious.

“What?” you choke, “Why are you – ?”

“Or maybe Minho’s your first?” Chan raises an eyebrow haughtily, a smirk splaying on his lips, “Has Minho ever kissed you?”

You feel your face redden once again, struggling to get your response out. The words jam at your throat as you gulp, causing Chan to gleefully chuckle at your predicament. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” you stutter, heaving a little pout at the male.

He laughs, “For someone who spent most of her life in a castle with minimal socialization, I’d say you kiss pretty well.”

“Bang Chan!” you squeal, hands flying up to cover your flustered face. Suddenly, all memories of the kiss you shared with him while in Miroh started replaying in your mind like a broken record, and it still felt so real.

When Chan starts to laugh louder, you huff in defeat and shyly answer his query, “I have never kissed anyone and never have I kissed Minho. You’re the…first.”

Without another word, Chan reaches up to caress your cheek – the gesture a feeling you’ve come to love, in all honesty. He gently brings your head lower, his lips pressing a kiss to your own. You lose yourself in the supple feeling of his lips working magic on yours – not even the finest velvet in the castle could compare to how exquisite it all felt. When you both pull away, Chan smiles against your lips in satisfaction. You giggle before sitting straighter, grinning at the male, “Hey, Chan?”

“Hmm?”

“Why’d you become a rebel?” you quietly ask, curious eyes dancing with his, “I’m sure you could easily live in Elysium, enjoying life without much problems.”

Chan smiles, his gaze now locked onto the clear sky above, “I joined SKZ ‘cause my parents used to be a part of it.”

You hum in response, and Chan continues to speak, “I didn’t know they were rebels. I found out when they died.”

Your heart sinks at the admission of the male, a frown darkening your features, “What happened?”

Chan watches the clouds in the sky, eyes shifting from one cloud to another as he chooses his words, “It was a few years before your father became king, so you know, rebellions were still a common thing. Woojin and I were really young at that time. We were out playing or something, and we somehow caught wind of a fire erupting somewhere in District 9. Turns out the whole place was burning. We couldn’t find our parents, and that was when Ho, SKZ’s current captain, took us to safety. In a camp, survivors and other rebels were there, including the dead bodies of our parents. Ho explained to us that our parents were rebels who were killed by Silvers in one of their planned rebellions.”

“So…Ho took you both in?” you ask quietly, “Raised you and all?”

“More or less, yeah. At least until we were old enough to actually live on our own.” Chan explains, “Either way, we joined SKZ ‘cause we didn’t want that to happen again. We didn’t want any more gruesome stuff happening like it did with our parents.”

“I’m sorry.” you say in a hushed voice, hand gently placed atop his chest.

Chan is quick to note the guiltiness in your soft-spoken tone and envelopes your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think more than anyone, you know what it’s like to lose both parents. Different causes, but…it all feels the same.” he offers you a small smile, chuckling breathily afterwards, “I think that’s why you’re a really strong and driven person.”

You return the smile, soothingly running your fingers through his hair, “I kind of have to be, Chan. No one else is going to do it for me.”

“It’s hard, right?” Chan chuckles.

You give him a knowing grin and nod, “You know it.”

“I see myself in you sometimes, y/n.” Chan’s eyes twinkle so softly, you suddenly feel like putty, “I guess that’s why I was so drawn to you; why I think you’re going to do great things.”

“Let’s hope that actually happens, Bang.” you giggle, “I have very big decisions to make.”

“Don’t we all?” Chan laughs, and you find yourself beaming with him.

You wished the moment could have stayed like that – peaceful, pressure-free, and without any worry – but the universe liked to play games. Just before Chan could lean in to kiss you again, a familiar voice called out from a hill nearby, “Chan! Y/n! We got a situation!”

The distress in Felix’s voice alarmed not just you but Chan as well. He immediately lifts his head from your lap, standing up without a minute to waste. You do the same as Felix teleports in front of you. Catching his breath, Felix turns to you, “I got word that Miroh…the castle was attacked,” he then turns to Chan, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat, “by SKZ.”

If Chan was confused, he didn’t show much of it. He simply bit his lip and cast his eyes down to the grass as he tried to analyze the situation. You, on the other hand, gripped Felix’s shoulders in panic, “What do you mean? How is this possible?” you turn your attention to Chan, “What is going on?”

Chan steadies you, “I don’t know, y/n. Neither of us do.”

Felix nods his head fervently, “I don’t and neither of the boys too.”

Gripping your hand tightly, Chan asks the young male, “Where are the others?”

“Jeongin went to Miroh disguised as a Silver to get more information. Woojin and Jisung are on stand-by at the base.” Felix replies, nervously fumbling with his fingers.

Chan clicks his tongue. Your quivering hand trembles in his hold as you look into his eyes, “Chan, I have to go. Now. Alone.”

Chan only nods, gesturing for Felix to take over. Without any words of reassurance or goodbyes, Chan releases his hold on you, Felix’s own hand replacing his. Within seconds, Felix teleports you both out, but Chan managed to catch the look of guilt, confusion, and hurt painted on your face, but what got his eyes wavering and nerves pulsing the most was the way your glossy eyes stared at him with two heavy questions:

Did you know about this?

Were you involved?

Once Felix had gotten you as close as possible to the castle, you were greeted by chaos and an uproar. The Royal Guard were running around, calling out orders and aiding the injured guards. Apparently, just a small part of the castle was raided, away form the royal chambers and offices, but it so happens that the part that was raided was the dining hall and one of the ballrooms where you and your friends often stayed in. “Changbin!” you called out, sauntering into the castle with flame-wrapped fists.

You knock out a few rebels on your way to the ballroom, paying no heed to who they were. You no longer needed to push open the grand doors of the ballroom as the rebels had struck it down. You leaped over the debris, scanning the room for your brother. However, what you were presented with ripped your heart out in an instant. “H-Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin’s head lay on Seungmin’s lap, shiny Silver blood cascading his face and trailing over his closed eyes. Seungmin looks up to see you, his fearful eyes pleading for help. You rush over to them, kneeling beside Hyunjin’s unconscious body. “No, no, no. Hyunjin!” you scream, shaking his body. “Hey pretty boy…it’s y/n. Are you there?”

You turn to Seungmin, and he doesn’t need to read your mind to know you wanted answers. He shakes his head, “The attack started in the dining hall just down the corridor and started spreading here in the first floor. Hyunjin said he’d handle the ballroom while Changbin and Minho checked the other parts. I rushed to Hyunjin but…they had Silents, y/n. Hyunjin couldn’t do anything.”

“He-he’s not dead, is he?” you place a hand just above his heart when Seungmin shakes his head.

“He’s not, but I don’t think he’ll be waking up to greet you with a smile.”

You release a breath of relief, cradling Hyunjin’s head close to whisper, “I’m so sorry, Jinnie.”

“Y/n!” Changbin shouts upon entering the room, “Oh my gosh, Hyunjin!”

“He’s just unconscious.” you say, getting up to rush into Changbin’s arms.

Your brother hugs you tightly, “It was SKZ.”

“Do you really think that, Bin?” you whisper, “Would they really?”

“No, I don’t know, y/n.” Changbin answers, “SKZ isn’t just Chan and the guys. They’re a big group, so I don’t know if they all planned this or not.”

“I was with Chan.” you say, “He said he didn’t know...”

Your voice trails off as you see the metallic blood dripping from his sleeve, “Bin, your arm!”

Changbin shrugs it off, forcing a smile for you, “It’s just a shallow stab, nothing serious. You know I can take more than that.”

“Take Hyunjin and Seungmin to the medical wing.” you tell your brother, “Please. Get yourself treated too. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Changbin nods, heading to the two males. He helps Seungmin carry Hyunjin out, igniting a flame on his other hand in case there were still rebels around. Just as the three get out of the room, several rebels bust into the already-shattered windows, face masks concealing their features. The red bandanas wrapped around their biceps had “SKZ” written in black, and you suddenly feel a slight dread in your chest.

You are, however, forced into action when the rebels begin to attack you. One had abilities like Jisung, and the other was a Bomber like the one who ambushed you in Elysium from before. You block off their attacks, dodging lightning strikes and skipping away from explosions. You find a plank of wood lying around from the debris and set in on fire like some flaming sword. Without anything holding you back, you blast a shot of blazing fire towards the Electricon while striking the Bomber with your makeshift fire sword. The Bomber blows it up, but the second he does, you barrage him with a blast of fire. The familiar smell of ashes and smoke fills your nose, and you relent your attack. The two bodies collapse to the ground, completely burned to a crisp. A third opponent comes into play, eyes prowling like a lion. You do the same, aiming your flame-thrower-like ability at him. He, however, creates an energy field to shield himself. Immediately, he stomps forward and approaches you, swinging a knife in your direction. You end your flames and dodge his knife, but he manages to land a punch against your stomach. You stumble back, keeping your guard up with flames. “That’s not going to do anything, princess.” he laughs, creating yet another shield.

You narrow your eyes, brain rattling for a way to break his shield. You stretch one hand out and assail him with flames, but he simply blocks it with his shield. Sarcastically yawning, the rebel stands there, unamused. You bite your lip and stretch out your other hand, shooting flames towards the pile of debris by the door. “Where ya aimin’ sweetcheeks?” he laughs.

You tilt your head and smile, “Your cheeks.”

You flick your finger, and the fire you kindled from the debris comes at the rebel from behind. He isn’t quick enough to react, and as a result, his backside starts to go up in flames. He drops his shield with a cry of pain, and you take this opportunity to kick his chest. He stumbles back and falls over the window with a piercing scream. You look over to make sure he stayed down, grimacing when his impact on the ground makes a bone-crushing sound.

A fourth rebel comes up from behind you, and you pivot around just in time to grab his wrists from driving a knife into your back. He, however, grips your forearm and winks. You suddenly feel all energy being drained from you, and as you try to wriggle out of his grasp, you grow weaker every second. They were what they called “Leechers”, and they could siphon out life from humans. You grit your teeth and combust in flames, hoping the rebel would let go. However, as your energy was being drained, so were the intensities of your flames.

The rebel collapses all of a sudden, and you watch with wide eyes as red blood soaks his shirt, a shiny dagger lodged into his back. You look to the doorway to see Minho, arm outstretched and clearly unhappy. You feel your knees buckle as you sit on the floor, breathing heavily. You don’t say a word, but Minho is approaching you rather calmly. He grips your forearms tightly to lift you up, and that was enough for you to know he was angry. Of course he would be. You both stare at each other, the air buzzing with all these different emotions at once. You take in his disheveled appearance – his usual black suit jacket discarded to reveal a white button up stained with red and messy hair that clung to his forehead with sweat. You didn’t know if it was the sweat that made him shine, or if it was his own Silver blood seeping out from the wounds on his face. You look at him with apologetic eyes in hopes to convey your apologies, but he simply glares, eyes holding nothing but coldness, “Save it, y/n.”

Back in the medical wing, Minho drags you into the room where Seungmin and Changbin were waiting. “Do you see what you did, y/n?” he says, not bothering to raise his voice. “Your actions did this, y/n.”

“Minho, I didn’t know! No one knows anything for sure, ok?” you sigh, turning your eyes away from the male’s daunting gaze.

Minho laughs, “Y/n, I’ve been telling you again and again that you and your brother are prancing about with rebels. Oh, and what a coincidence! The rebel group your friends belong to just attacked your castle!”

You shake your head, “Cha – those guys wouldn’t attack, they – ”

“How foolish can you get? What’s it going to take for you to see the consequences of your actions?” Minho groans, exasperation taking over him, “You weren’t even here when they attacked, because let me guess, you were with Bang Chan again. Getting chummy, right?”

You knew a part of Minho was right. You weren’t there to protect your castle – your friends. Hyunjin lay unconscious because you snuck away to spend time with a certain rebel. What a disgrace, you thought, for the princess and queen-elect to get distracted and disregard her duties just to satisfy her own desires. The princess is missing in action when rebels decide to attack her home. And yes, at this point, that was on you. That was your fault and your mistake, and you would take responsibility for it.

You quietly respond, “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll take responsibility for my foolishness, but we need to know who did – ”

“Y/n,” Minho starts through gritted teeth, “SKZ did this. Don’t tell me you still think your friends are innocent and harmless when their group did this.”

He grips your wrist, dragging you with him as he strides out of the room. “Seungmin, three Royal Guards with me, now!” he barks his command.

Three guards follow the two of you without question. Seungmin gives Hyunjin’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and looks at Changbin nervously before making his way to your group.

You look at Minho with fearful eyes, voice rather frail as you ask, “Minho, what are you doing?”

“We’re going to visit your boyfriend, y/n.” Minho snarls, voice low like a growling predator seeking his prey, “I want answers.”

Storming into District 9 with Minho and the Royal Guard didn’t seem like such a pleasing sight, and the icy glares the Reds and Newbloods were throwing were not helping at all. Seungmin suddenly felt so small, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to lift your eyes from the pavement. In the middle of the city square, Minho lifts both hands so all his chains, rings, and earrings levitated away from him. All his accessories morph into knives, and he directs each one merely inches away from the onlookers’ faces. “Bring me Bang Chan and his friends, unless you want these knives wedged into your foreheads.” Minho hisses, eyes narrowing at each person.

You want to rush to Minho’s side and stop his little theatricals, but one guard has a death grip on your arm, making sure you get nowhere near the Magnetron.

Meanwhile, in Chan’s base, Jeongin paces around nervously, “Hyung, hyung. Lee Minho and the Guard are in the square. They want us!”

Jisung narrows his eyes, “Let me at him. We’ll finish this once and for all!”

Felix bites his lip. “He’s really pissed, Jisung.” he points out, “Not even y/n could stop him.”

With his arms crossed, Woojin says, “The situation is really messy. All proof and signs leads to SKZ definitely attacking their castle, and they find it ironic that they attacked when y/n was away.”

Chan leans on the doorframe and turns to Woojin, “Let’s give them what they want, then. They want answers, let’s give it to them.”

Jeongin looks at the older male with worry, “Are you sure? What if they kill you?”

“Minho is cruel, but I think he knows better than to kill any of us in front of y/n.” Chan explains, patting Jeongin’s back reassuringly, “Stick close to Woojin and Felix, ok?”

Jeongin nods. Chan then turns to the other younger boy, “Jisung, refrain from attacking or provoking Minho. We don’t need to make it any more complicated.”

“Roger that, sir.” Jisung salutes.

Minutes later, his group walks into the city square with Minho waiting for them. Chan and Woojin lead the group with the younger males behind them. The three guards with you fix their stances, ready to attack in case the Newbloods did anything funny. Chan walks closer, now face to face with Minho. “What do you want, Lee?”

Minho smirks, “Y/n here thinks you didn’t do anything but clearly, your little gang of rebels attacked our castle.”

“SKZ did attack, but it wasn’t on my watch or order.” Chan calmly replies, “I didn’t know anything about it.”

Seungmin steps up from behind Minho, eyes wary and critical, “I have some doubts about that.”

You look at Seungmin with shock as he attempts to read Chan’s mind. Chan raises his eyebrow and smiles, “You’re not going to find anything in there, Whisper.”

Seungmin glares, “It’s hard to read everything, but I can still pick up fragments. Just give me enough time.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, “Let’s have some fun while waiting, shall we?”

He gestures towards the guard holding you, and he lets go. You slowly make your way to the center with Minho and the rest. Minho’s icy stare is on you as he speaks, “Maybe your girlfriend can get you to speak.”

You glare at Minho, leveling the viciousness in his eyes. You hear the people murmuring and mumbling about you being the queen-elect, but you shut those words out. “Well?” Minho smirks at you, eyebrows raised expectantly.

You huff and turn to Chan, eyes apologetic once again as you shake your head in the most subtle manner possible. “Tell them it’s not true, Chan. Tell me.”

Chan looks at you with calm, sincere eyes, ignoring the glare Minho was throwing at his direction, “SKZ is a big group, Your Highness. A different faction could have attacked your castle, but it was not ours.”

Minho turns to Seungmin who whispers, “I’m sensing some irregularities to your words. You’re anxious, Chan.”

Jeongin suddenly pushes past Woojin, rushing to Chan’s side. The young man’s eyes are ablaze with his own fiery fuel when he speaks against the two, “I went to Miroh when the attack happened! None of our faction was there, I swear on my life!”

Minho turns his attention to Jeongin. He shakes with fear, but he does his best to hide it. Minho nods, speaking in a deadpanned manner, “Ok, kid. Then whose was it?”

Jeongin gulps, eyes darting between Chan and the other Newbloods. Before he could reply, Seungmin turns his attention to him and reads his mind. “Apparently, it was a higher authority.” Seungmin reveals, “He didn’t get the name, but it was a high-ranking member.”

At this, Chan’s calm façade falters, and his eyes go wide. He couldn’t have possibly gone there. That’s all it takes for Seungmin’s ability to get past Chan’s unguarded mind, successfully accessing his thoughts. Once Seungmin has read it all, he lightly gasps and steps backwards. “What?” Minho demands, hands shoved in his pockets.

Seungmin’s shuddering eyes never leave Chan’s as he breathes out, “You were supposed to…to kill the princess…to kill y/n.”

Your heart stops beating and everything suddenly falls silent as a buzzing sound takes over your senses. You feel numb and speechless, drowning in your own thoughts. You quickly snap your head to face Chan, struggling to keep the look of betrayal at bay. Chan’s eyes are filled only with guilt as he stares back, eyebrows furrowed in distress.

“And…” Seungmin continues, pointing to Felix, “you were supposed to kill Changbin. You and Chan were told to get close to them so they’d be unsuspecting when the time to kill them came.”

“Bingo.” Minho scowls, drawing all his knives back to him to form a sword pointed at Chan, “Explain yourself, Newblood.”

Chan’s soft gaze towards you turns hard and steely when he glares at Minho, “That was the mission, Lee, but we decided not to push through with it.”

“Then why did your higher ups attack us?” Minho hisses.

“I said we didn’t know about the attack.” Chan spits back.

Seungmin’s voice is now steady and firm as he speaks, “I don’t read any signs of him choosing to abort his mission.”

“That’s a lie.” Chan says through gritted teeth, “Your abilities don’t know everything that goes on in my mind, Whisper.”

“But you don’t deny that you were going to kill y/n?” Minho shoves the sword closer to Chan’s face.

Chan ignores Minho’s question as he turns to you, slowly speaking, “Y/n, you have to believe me.”

“Is this what you meant when you told me that ‘everything we choose to do has risks’ and that we have to decide if we’re willing to take those risks?” you ask emptily, eyes avoiding his own.

“Y/n, I never meant to – ”

“Were you just playing around with me, using me?” you finally snap your head at him, tears pricking at your eyes with all your emotions overwhelming you once again, “Did you say all those things, do all those things just to use me and get on with SKZ’s plans?”

“Y/n, listen to me!”

“Were you just some sort of distraction for me so that my attention was away from the castle so your people could attack?” you scream, the tears now staining your cheeks. “Hyunjin is on the verge of death because I trusted you all!”

At the mention of his friend’s name, Jeongin’s heart breaks. Jisung and Felix look to Woojin who is just as puzzled as Chan is. Everything seems to be building up, but the only person you pay attention to is Chan. “You took advantage of me, Chan.” you breathe out in disbelief.

Chan shakes his head, eyes trying to plead with yours, hoping to stop yourself from building a wall between you two. “Y/n, I won’t deny the fact that my mission was to kill you. I’m being honest here. But I didn’t want to do it. Neither of us did, and that’s why we decided to disobey our orders.”

“This is more than enough to prove you’re a threat and danger.” Minho smirks, pulling the sword back as it transforms back into chains while his other knives return to their earring or ring forms. He grabs Chan’s collar and hisses, “Mark my words, Newblood. You are never seeing the princess again, and I’ll make sure your buddies don’t either.”

With a menacing grin, Minho puts his palm near the side of Chan’s head, one of his rings turning into a dagger, “You make any move or attempt to do so and this dagger will be the only thing touching your heart.”

“I said I’d let it all slide when I saw you the last time,” he continues to laugh, “but you test me, Newblood. I’m not letting this pass anymore.”

Minho retracts his dagger, but instead, he punches Chan’s face. You and Seungmin gasp while the other Newbloods and Reds start protesting and exclaiming profanities. The Royal Guard creates a barricade to ensure no one rushes into the scene between your group. Chan doesn’t react and simply stares at the ground with his head turned to the side. You grip Minho’s arm and whisper, “Enough, let’s go.”

But before anyone can make any move to leave, Jisung’s voice booms as he sparks his fists with electricity, “Lee Minho, you asshole!”

Woojin tries to stop the younger male, but Jisung has already bolted towards Minho, landing a sparking blow to the Silver’s face. Minho brings his hand to his nose, his fingers now painted with Silver blood, and with his enraged expression, you knew that there was no stopping his rage. Minho exclaims in frustration as he directs all his blades at Jisung. The latter is able to zap most of the blades, effectively blocking them out. However, a few blades make it past his lightning defense, grazing and cutting parts of his limbs and face. Two blades lodge themselves into Jisung’s leg, and he falls to his knees with a grunt. Minho is already sending another wave of blades towards his direction, but Chan pushes Jisung out of the way. He waves his hand in the air, soundwaves deflecting the flurry of blades. His eyes now carry more intensity than you’ve ever seen as if live fire were dancing in his very orbs. Minho decides to merge his blades into a sword and charges at Chan with full speed. Chan picks up a spare blade from the ground, and they battle it out, neither of them being able to land a blow on each other. Minho swipes the blade away from Chan’s hand and swings his sword at the male, but Chan snaps his finger, causing a crack of soundwaves rippling between them. The impact of the waves’ force hits Minho, and he stumbles back. Before he can do anything, he suddenly feels a heavy feeling gripping his chest as he gasps for air.

“There’s a Silent in here.” you rush over to Minho, eyes darting to look for the source.

When Chan’s eyes land on a figure walking towards your group in the city square, he starts to glare. “Ho.”

The captain claps his hands, mockingly kneeling in front of you and Minho. You bring fire to your fists and raise it at him, but the male simply looks to the side. His companion, a Silent just like him, silences your abilities too. Not too strongly, but just enough to keep you down. “I have to say, Lord Minho, Your Highness, coming to District 9 to attack Newbloods is a bold move. Are you trying to start another rebellion?”

Minho chokes out, “You attacked Miroh first.”

Ho chuckles, “It’s your princess’s fault. She fell for our man over here.”

Chan whispers between him and the captain, “Let them go, Ho. There’s been enough bloodshed today.”

Ho rolls his eyes, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. His companion lets go of his hold on you, but he has yet to do so with Minho. He roughly grabs the Silver’s jaw, forcing Minho to look at him, “You mess with my men again, and it’s goodbye to your and your posse, understood?”

He pushes Minho’s face away before releasing his ability’s hold and getting up. “Stay in Miroh and leave District 9 to us.” Ho smiles deviously.

Minho glares at him before grabbing your hand and gesturing for Seungmin to follow. With his pride and dignity crushed like that, Minho would want nothing but to get out of there. The Royal Guard leads the way, the three of you following close by. As if on habit, Chan manipulates the sound between the two of you – possibly the last time you’ll ever experience that – as he whispers a weak and broken “Y/n, please”.

But unlike before, you don’t respond; you want to, but you couldn’t find the words no matter how hard you tried to search for the right ones. You were just a few steps away from becoming out of Chan’s sound range, and that would result in you not being able to respond without anyone hearing. You still couldn’t formulate a decent response; if you didn’t say anything, that was it.

Three steps left.

Two steps.

One step.

You were now out of range from Chan’s sound manipulation, and the thought of you not being able to give at least one reply brought tears to your eyes once again.

Goodbye forever, perhaps.

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a-totally-legit-farm · 4 years

Text

The Hunt (Nikoma Drabble)

drabble - nikoma | read on google docs

Nikoma had been losing his mind as of late – it had started in his compulsory excursion to Zuzu, being cooped up in supercooled office spaces and hotel rooms. He still got to drink, and smoke, but he had… More requirements. The man sighed, like he had just got a hit of nicotine or a mouthful of good whiskey –

His broadsword cleaved the leaf clad golem in twain, splitting its core, its tacky sap tarnishing the usual sheen of the carbon-greyed steel. The creature moaned in faux pain as its form dissipated, becoming little more than bark, leaves and ichor. As it gurgled, he flicked the weapon in a swift, clean motion, the force from the twist flinging his victims’ lifeblood into the dirt.

It always felt good, removing that little bit of magic from the world. After all, Nikoma reasoned with himself, it was magic that killed my dad. This was something he had come to tell himself in his years of monster hunting. He remembered the autopsy results clearly – nothing was wrong with his father; it was a freak heart attack. The only conclusion a young Nikoma could come to, in his rage-filled, sorrow-riddled mind, was that his father had been the victim of some sort of magic.

The bushes ahead rustled, and from it, poured more monsters. A pair of golems and a small fleet of giant bugs rushed his position. Nikoma pushed forwards, the man’s steps placed with powerful intent, propelling him towards the blood that his sword hungered for. The sword was something else. Nik had always been an excellent fighter, a force of nature that would take enough damage to kill a man and still march on the offense, but this sword, Vice, was a different creature. The ouroboros engraved above the cross guard was telling of its nature – self-destructive, forever hungry.

The first bug was dispatched with a well-placed front kick, his black combat boots tearing through carapace and fluorescent gore, shattering the exoskeleton of the mindless creatures. The buzzing quieted slightly as the pink mist settled on the insect’s comrades – Vice swung left and low, through the pivot point in the closest golem’s knee, the green, spellbound husk toppling to the dirt. Nikoma followed the sing through as he was dive bombed by another beetle, leaping into a roll to try and regain his footing.

Beetles poured in from every direction now, with a golem leading each wave of insects. Again, he darted in, the six-foot tall man moving like a lightweight boxer, each footstep and sword slash carefully timed to wreak maximum havoc among the growing ranks of enemies. It was tiring work; Vice was not a small sword, yet each swing clipped at least one foe, never wasting energy in missed attacks. He cleaved through the horde of beetles, taking only superficial damage from their kamikaze-style dive bombs – it was rare for a bug to leave Nikoma’s reach once it had entered it. It was the golems Nikoma was weary of, the dense bark that made up their exterior was like rock and being punched was not in the swordsman’s list of things that were fun.

Vice spearheaded upwards as Nikoma lifted, the blade’s navy-grey steel piercing up and under the golem’s chest plates, his sword shattering the core inside, as its dead weight was lifted into the air, limbs limply dangling. It was a show of pure strength, as Vice relished the sticky ichor leaking from the now defunct golem. Again, that rush of adrenaline, that nicotine hit feeling, and a soft quenching of that ever-present bloodlust. Nikoma sighed, as he shrugged the golem off his sword.

It was quiet now, the cacophony of carapaces clacking silenced for the first time in what felt like forty minutes. Discarded exoskeletons and that bright bug meat littered the forest floors, piles of sap and bark and leaves piling amongst the corpses. It was a brilliant sight of awesome violence, and Nikoma reveled in it for slightly too long. It wasn’t what he had come into the forest for, but it was what he needed. His cuts and bruises pulsed and ached, a trail of red running from his eyebrow to his jawline. The pain was good.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

That was a mistake.

The iron grip of a golem wrapped around his ankle – it was the second he had faced, the one he had lopped at the knees. It was a rookie mistake not to destroy its core. He twisted, in an attempt to stab at it from above, but vines lashed around his right arm from the surrounding scrub, as he heard the uttering of a Fae language. Son of a motherfucker… His irritation spiked as he realized what had happened. The reason he was here had happened.

Nikoma was aware of a rumor, relating to a possible Spriggan sighting in the deep woods. Spriggans were fae of fables, renowned for their affinity of the woods, and known master manipulators. Good thing Nikoma didn’t care for trees. He had set out, Vice crying to taste the organs of a faerie, and Nikoma willing to do the deed. After all, he was a monster hunter. And now, his target hovered just two meters in front of him. It garbled its disgusting dialect at him, and he felt the digits of the golem grow and stretch and harden around his left leg.

It was a curiously grotesque creature – its skin tone was a pasty green, with what seemed to be wrinkled leaves making up some sort of garment around the faerie. Its face was long, its nose bridging in a very inhuman way, creating deep wells for its golden sliver-irises to sit in. Atop its head was a moss that did not seem to be a part of the Spriggan itself, instead its own, independent organism, moving slowly despite the lack of breeze.

“Human, who are you to encroach upon my territory?” The Spriggan’s voice was like wind blowing through leaves, whispy and whimsical, yet the tone behind the words was sinister and menacing – and Nikoma couldn’t help but scoff at the monster. A typical fae trick, to ask a human their name. There was a lot of power in a name.

“Get fucked, monster.” Clearly the faerie did not take the insult lightly, but whether it was the f-bomb or the monstrous insinuation, it wasn’t clear – regardless, the golem and vine’s grip on Nikoma grew tighter. The man could feel the plant matter cutting into his skin, rubbing and burning as friction held two of his limbs tight in place.

The creature’s eyes narrowed as it muttered more gibberish, “Gweles’m neb eghen’gas…” Nik spat at the faerie, saliva and blood intermingling as his disrespect landed on the fabled being. “You think yourself higher than us, gowygyon fethesik, yet you don’t realise you lunch with monsters worse than I.” Nikoma gritted his teeth – the fairy was monologuing now, great. The words had weight to them, however – magical weight, the Spriggan’s powerful persuasion pushing its rhetoric into his head. “The flame-haired one, she is a monster, duwesow’a chatelydheith , not of race nor magic, but a monster nonetheless…” The Spriggan hissed his words at Nikoma, hovering in and out of Vice’s possible strike range as his speech filled the air.

“You know this, yet you only strike us down… Pystyon…”

Nik growled, slowly rotating his sword in his right hand – and not bringing attention to his left, barely moving it at all, for he was still not fully restrained. Clearly the Spriggan had not fought a human before, despite all its wisecracks. “You know this to be true, gowyow soudoryon. Are you fine with dining with monsters, yet killing innocent peoples?” His growl turned into a snarl as his teeth become bared, and the fae retreated a few meters, in expectation of more bodily fluids.

Instead, that same flick of the wrist this time sent Vice up into the air, and with a precise strike Nikoma had caught the handle and degloved the golem clutching his ankle, and following the momentum through, slashed the vine holding his good sword arm. In a flash, he sprinted at the faerie, who had frantically begun chanting its putrid dialect. Roots burst from the ground and vines lashed from the trees – they managed to catch hold, but the warrior was a force unstoppable. Clay cracked and crumbled as the root tips ripped out, and trees creaked as the vines pulled on the smaller branches.

Nikoma leaped, screaming, sword ready to thrust into that sickly green skin. The closer he got, the more biological chains he felt halting his decent. He closed his eyes, and he heard Vice. Push now. Feed me. He thrust the blade forward – just as he came to a complete stop. His amber eyes opened, to meet the Spriggan’s golden gaze. Through its chest was Vice, soaking in a soft ambrosia gushing from the mortal gash.

He was suspended by a harness of roots and vines, now completely immobile, yet his blade pierced the ground, via the fae’s internal organs. One final rush of that satisfaction hit Nik, as he watched the life drain from his latest victim. As it died, the Spriggan uttered one final phrase.

“A-barth Duw, gwitha fleghes rag an euthvil ma…”

Its final words was its final mistake. As his organic shackles became limp and unrestrictive, Vice spoke – also for the final time. The creature has kin. They must be removed. Nikoma grunted – normal people’s swords don’t talk to them. He wiped the warm, golden blood on the bark of a nearby tree, before trekking off into the woods. He sheathed Vice, and retrieved his flask of whiskey, gulping down the bronze liquid with ease.

Oh well.

Guess he was off to kill some more fairies.

#nik drabble #long post #theres not a lot of nik being a badass asshole #so heres a little bit

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randomkposts · 4 years

Text

Hello

I figured I should start with wall of quotes. Cause whynot

Quotes “It's hard to hate my prep team. They're such total idiots." - Katniss.”

“Here's some advice. Stay alive.” “The cat that Prim got hates me, I think partly because I tried to drown it.” “District 12: Where you can starve to death in safety.”“No. Now, shut up and eat your pears."

” It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death." "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you will find in the arena. Say it's a gigantic cake-”“Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying.”

“Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do. Especially if the target is unprepared.”

"Well, leprechauns. You know they're not real, don't you?""Let us proceed under the assumption that the fairy folk do exist and that I am not a gibbering moron."

"I majored in Ancient History. You have your own page in the 'Criminally Insane' section."

"Really, Butler, I must begin choosing my business associates more carefully. Hardly a day goes by when we aren't the victims of some plot.""The punching is not helping my concentration, by the way.""Oh, brilliant. I must write that one down in my witty retorts book."

"The pixie is crazy! Give me your gun, Holly. I'm going to shoot him.""Excuse me, Captain. Are you two going to weep salty tears of admiration over a helmet all night, or do we have matters to discuss?"

"This is a well. You might think that there is something to it... But in fact it is just an ordinary well."

Woman in Ur : Hey, where are you four brats off to now? What...? You're going to go save the world...? Did you get hit on the head or something!?

Gilgamesh : Enough expository banter. It's time we fight like men. And ladies. And ladies who dress like men. For Gilgamesh...IT IS MORPHING TIME! Galuf : Bartz! Stop that! Bartz : But it's fun! poke, poke, poke... Bartz : Jumping Christmas!

Edgar : "That's Shadow! He'd slit his mama's throat for a nickel!" Kefka : "This is sickening! You sound like chapters from a self-help booklet! Prepare yourselves!" Locke : "Hey! Call me a TREASURE HUNTER, or I'll rip your lungs out!" Edgar : "If something were to happen to me, all the world's women would grieve!" Setzer : "My life is a chip in your pile. Ante up."

Yuffie : So! I saved the great Vincent Valentine! Do I get any thanks?

Squall : Right and wrong are not what separate us and our enemies. It's our different standpoints, our perspectives that separate us. Both sides blame one another. There's no good or bad side. Just two sides holding different views. Squall : I dreamt I was a moron...

Seifer : Great, I have one chicken-wuss and one kid who just entered puberty in my team! Squall : ...Whatever.

Auron: The red carpet has teeth. Auron: Outside the dream world, life can be harsh, even cruel, but it is life.

Rikku: Memories are nice, but that's all they are.

Kimahri: Pick spot. Shut up. Wait.

Rikku: Do you think we need a password? Paine: How about 'Kick..it's..ass' Paine : The hardest person to know is one's self.

Raogrimm: People are capable of kindness beyond angels, yet we also commit sins that would put a demon to shame... Lonely Chocobo: Warkkkkk!!! Gweh!!!! Warkkkk

Naja Salaheem : (After Abquhbah faints when he realizes that he's speaking to the empress) Nothing to be concerned about, Your Magnificence. Mercenaries are trained to sleep anywhere, anytime if the opportunity presents itself.

Lightning: Worst birthday ever. Lightning: It's not a question of can or can't. There are some things in life you just do. Lightning: We live to make the impossible possible! That is our focus!

White Mage: Hi. I was just wondering if you knew how much we've suffered because of you. Good day. [after finding the Falcon Rydia : It's not yours. Edge : That's okay, it would be happy to be used by us!

...That's General Leo.. He could be my friend if he weren't my enemy.

You think a minor thing like the end of the world was gonna do me in?

"What a cute doggy!' "Leave us. The dog eats strangers...'

This should be fun. When do we leave?

Read my lips - mercy is for wimps! There's a reason "oppose" rhymes with "dispose"...If they get in your way, kill them!I don't care for the appearance of this pitiful little hamlet... So burn it!!

Figaro Guard : Kefka's "One shy of a six pack!" Imperial soldier : I oppose peace! Narshe resident : Narshe is a neutral city.! We want no war here, but that %#$@& Empire won't listen! South Figaro Resident : We may be thieves, but at least we have goals in life!

Cyan: This is the Phantom Train. It carries the departed to the other side. Sabin : Wait! I don't want to go THERE!

Strago: Go to your room! Relm : I will not! What a fussy old man! Strago : Relm! Is that you, my dear? You're alive! Relm : Idiot! Of course I'm alive! Strago : Oh, I'm so happy..." Relm : Did you think I was gonna check out before you, old man? Strago : You're as foul mouthed as ever, bless your heart!

Shadow: I know what friendship is... and family...

"It's not my problem."

"Don't fight here! You'll ruin the flowers!" "I think they believe I have what it takes to be in SOLDIER!" "Mine is special. It's good for absolutely nothing!"

Don't need no appointment... This is a 'mergency! Anyone who don't wanna get their face bashed in better git outta the way!! "I've got the wrong person."

W-wait a second. I won't run or hide. Yes, I was a spy. I was hired by the Shinra. I couldn't help it. How 'bout if we continue like nothing ever happened?

Shut up! Sit your ass down in that chair and DRINK YOUR GODDAMN TEA!

This's gonna be a big splash. Hold on to your drawers, an' don't piss in 'em!!

Maybe God'd forgive an ugly shit like you, but I won't!

I don't know what the hell it is, but it's falling from the sky. Hmpf! It's not even an omen.

Hey, do you know who I am? I'm Cid—that's who the hell I am! Now just let me handle it!

I don't want to regret not having done something later.

I always thought this planet was so huge. But lookin' at it from space, I realized it's so small. We're just floatin' in the dark. ...kinda makes you feel powerless. On top of that it's got Sephiroth festerin' inside it like a sickness. That's why I say this planet's still a kid. A little kid sick and trembling in the middle of this huge universe. Someone's gotta protect it. Ya follow me? That someone is us.

We're busy runnin' back and forth! Even my bikini goddess would be pantin' about now!

Oh, GAWD! If I knew this was gonna happen, I would've taken rope escape lessons more seriously!!

Escape from a world of illusions... Hmph... I wonder which is better.

I know you want my help because I'm so good!

Cloud, put me in your party, so I can get off this ship. Cloud...sign this. It's a contract that says when the war is over, all the materia will belong to me.

The stars shine so bright, like glowing materia... reach up and grab one. GROSSNESS! Don't mess with me old man! You don't even have any Materia!

Citizens, unite! Come to the light, Mako energy. Power is truth. Shinra is the future. Real happiness can be found in obedience to the company People are ignorant. They'll feel better as long as someone is punished.

Godo : Go! Survive till the end! And return! With the Materia! Doctor in Mideel : You can see for yourself what things look like, but at least no one was seriously hurt. We're just very unhappy now. Junon soldier : I'm learning to be a delinquent soldier!! I just can't seem to get the hang of it! Reeve Tuesti : What may be a few to you was everything to those who died...

Barret : She ain't gonna show up. 'Least this time she didn't steal our materia. Guess we gotta be thankful for that. Yuffie : How could you say that!? I came all the way here after being seasick as a dog! I didn't go through all that just to have you guys have the best parts all to yourselves!

...A speech? Forget it. Cut the mic!

You're-going-to-like-me! You're-going-to-like-me! Did it work?

D-Do you have any...hot dogs left?

...The HELL! Man...Now this is what I call boring. This ain't right, man!

YOOOO!!! The HELL you doin'!!!?

I'm a pretty lucky guy. Hand in hand with two beautiful girls.

That is sooo vague!

Super-Duper-Mega-Bummer!!

Well, Zell was riding his T-Board in the hallways of Garden. He made a sharp turn and went straight into the woman's res...

Sharpshooters are loners by nature... We hone our instincts, pour our whole being in a single bullet. The pressure of the moment... An instant of tension... That's what... I have to face alone...

Well, fine then! We WILL have a good time!

Thanks for the support, but I never miss my target.

Well, we could skin this little guy and wear him as a disguise...

I say things that get a rise out of some people. Just don't let it bother you and we'll get along fine.

Ooh neato! A hole in the middle of no-where!

You've all heard this before. How life has infinite possibilities. I don't believe that one bit. There weren't many paths for me to choose. Sometimes, there would only be one. From the limited possibilities I faced, the choices I made have brought me this far. That's why I value the path I chose... I want to hold true to the path that HAD to be taken.

Let's just fire like crazy and make a big hole, BOOM!

...Speeding. Let's go arrest that student for violation of academy regulations. Listen up! Teamwork means staying out of my way. It's a Squad B rule.

This is the scene where you swear your undying hatred for me!

And so, Laguna runs for dear life. She got upset and put fruit jam in your shoes. You were almost in tears!

Fujin: DISTURBING.RAGE!SHOCK!GOOD. CONVENIENT.PERSUASION, USELESS. SEIZE!IGNORE.RUN!ELLONE? NOT HERE.FATIGUE POSSE... We are. We always will be. Because we're a posse, we want to help you. Whatever it takes to fulfill your dream, we're willing to do. But... You're being manipulated, Seifer. You've lost yourself and your dream. You're just eating out of someone's hand. We want the old you back! Since we can't get through to you, all we have now to rely on is Squall! It's sad... Sad that we only have Squall to rely on... Seifer! Are you still gonna keep goin'?

Big Sister: I can't wait until I meet a guy that I can scream at and exchange blows with!

Quistis : You're the squad leader. Good luck to you. Seifer : ...Instructor. I hate it when people wish me luck. Save those words for a bad student who needs them, eh? Quistis : Alright, then. Good luck, Seifer. Seifer : [to Fujin and Raijin] Add Instructor Trepe to the list. Zone : Our plan is to...Selphie : ...Blow it to smithereens with a rocket launcher!? Zone : [taken aback] ...Ahh...not quite... Rinoa : Oh, shut up! I made it like that on purpose. It represents my hatred towards Deling. Zell : Hatred, eh? Yeah...right. Selphie : It's one of the...ugliest things that I've ever seen in my life. You must really hate him.

You don't need a reason to help people.No cloud, nor squall shall hinder us!Piece of cake. I'm an escape artist.

In the end, it boils down to two simple choices. Either you do or you don't. You'd think with all the problems in this world, there'd be more answers. It's not fair... but that's the way things are. The choice is yours.

SON OF A SHOOPUFF!

Al Bhed is Al Bhed. Rikku is Rikku. Rikku swore to protect Yuna. And Rikku is not a liar. Kimahri can tell. So, she is a friend.

Why are you still here, sir? (pause as Auron looks at him) I beg your pardon. We Guado are keen to the scent of the Farplane.

Rikku : Did you...hit your head or something? Tidus : Um, you guys hit me. Rikku : Oh, right...do you remember anything before that?

Sometimes, when I got a lot on my mind, it just helps to go, "AAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Once Lady Yuna fixes her hair, we leave." "Guard your emotions first, then guard your summoner." "Ha! Legendary guardian? I was just a boy. A boy about your age actually. I wanted to change the world too, but I changed nothing. That is my story." "Don't look to others for knowledge. This is your story."

Don't think it's just a game. Your life's on the line. "You. It's what's for dinner." You. Are. Hired."

Barkeep : Mish Yoona, what can I do for yoo?

Yuna : Duck Soup! Paine : Duck what?

Rikku : I'm gonna kick you in the spleen! Paine : Spleen?

Lightning : (to soldier).Nice gun. Noctis : Goodbye, whoever you are.

You sure are a keen observer of the obvious, kupo!

And I know some "little girls" who can kick your butt!

"You hit the Lord of the Titans in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush."

Rachel: They asked me a lot of questions about you. I played dumb. Annabeth: Was it hard?"

"Love conquers all," Aphrodite promised. "Look at Helen and Paris. Did they let anything come between them?""Didn't they start the Trojan War and get thousands of people killed?" "Pfft. That's not the point. Follow your heart."'

“Ever had a flying burrito hit you? Well, it's a deadly projectile, right up there with cannonballs and grenades." "The ADHD part of me wondered, off-task, whether the rest of his clothes were made the same way. What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades' underwear?"

Rachel: You're a half-blood, too? Annabeth: Shhh! Just announce it to the world, how about? Rachel: Okay. Hey, everybody! These two aren't human! They're half Greek god! . . . They don't seem to care."-

"What I did next was so impulsive and dangerous I should’ve been named ADHD poster child of the year."

“You're a stalker with hooves." "I am not! I followed her to the Big House and hid in a bush and watched the whole thing.”

Well, we kind of tried to kill each other in a duel to the death." "I see. You tried the diplomatic approach.”

"Well, Percy, what have we learned today?""That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?""No," "We've learned that your plans really, really bite!”

"Dude!" said a party pony as he unloaded his gear. Did you see that bear guy? He was all like: 'Whoa, I have an arrow in my mouth!”

“Boys are usually forbidden to have any contact with the Hunters. The last one to see this camp…” She looked at Zoe. “Which one was it?”"That boy in Colorado,” Zoe said. “You turned him into a jackalope.”Ah, yes.” Artemis nodded, satisfied. “I enjoy making jackalopes…”

“Christmas in the Underworld was NOT my idea. If I'd known what was coming, I would've called in sick. I could've avoided an army of demons, a fight with a Titan, and a trick that almost got my friends and me cast into eternal darkness. But no, I had to take my stupid English exam.”

“Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian." "You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminum cans," I reminded him."Those are vegetables.”

"How about this: stealing is not always bad?""I don't think my mom would like that moral."

I thought about the lines Rachel had spoken in that creepy voice: about storm and fire and the Doors of Death. "Maybe," I said, "but it didn't sound so good.""No," said Apollo cheerfully. "It certainly didn't. She's going to make a wonderful Oracle!”

"My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." He glanced at me with distaste. "As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, it would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on - it is that you were a TERRIBLE father.”

Running with a drowsy child of Hades was more like doing a 3 -legged race with a life size rag doll.”

“Yay!' he said. 'Now we can eat peanut butter sandwiches and ride fish ponies! We can fight monsters and see Annabeth and make things go BOOM!”

“You know how teachers tell you the magic word is 'please'? That's not true. The magic word is 'puke'. It will get you out of class faster than anything else.”

" He tossed me a jar of thick green liquid—Greek fire, one of the most dangerous magical substances in the world. Then he threw me another essential tool of demigod heroes—duct tape”

“Juniper: Are you guys busy? Percy: Well, we’re in the middle of this game against a bunch of monsters and we’re trying not to die. Annabeth: We’re not busy. ”

Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry. It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works."I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?"Oh . . . yes. Good point.”

“Let us find the dam snack bar," Zoe said. "We should eat while we can."Grover cracked a smile. "The dam snack bar?"Zoe blinked. "Yes. What is funny?""Nothing," Grover said, trying to keep a straight face. "I could use some dam french fries."Even Thalia smiled at that. "And I need to use the dam restroom." "I do not understand.""I want to use the dam water fountain," Grover said."And…" Thalia tried to catch her breath. "I want to buy a dam T-shirt."

"with great power... comes great need to take a nap"

“Oh no." I said panic rising in my chest. "No, no, no, Somebody get a can opener. I've got a god in my head!!”“Well," I said. "If you need me, I'll be outside, playing with sharp objects.”

“Fairness means everyone gets what they need. And the only way to get what you need is to make it happen yourself.”

“I guessed his name was Face of Horror. I wondered how long it had taken his mom to think of that. Bob? No. Sam? No. How about Face of Horror?”

“Now the tattoos," Zia announced."Brilliant!" I said."On your tongue," she added."Excuse me?”

“I just love family meetings. Very cozy, with the Christmas garlands round the fireplace and a nice pot of tea and a detective from Scotland Yard ready to arrest you.”

“Carter Kane, 14, died tragically in Paris when he was eaten by his sister’s cat Muffin.”

“There will be guards,” Bast said. “And traps. And alarms. You can bet the house is heavily charmed to keep out gods.” “Magicians can do that?” I asked. I imagined a big can of pesticide labeled God-Away.”

“I believe you, Sadie.""Oh really. I'm holding the bloody feather of truth, and you believe me. Well, thanks.”

I guess it started in London, the night our dad blew up the British museum.”

“The baboon is driving,” I noted. “Should I be worried?”

“Thank Ra!” She exclaimed. “Yeah, I’m alive.” “No, I almost jumped in after you. I hate the water!”

“Why did adults have to be so thick? They always say “tell the truth,” and when you do, they don’t believe you. What’s the point?”

“I must admit I’m impressed, Sadie. You controlled your magic and controlled Isis. And you, Carter, did well turning into a lizard.”

“That’s Narmer with the spoon,” I guessed. “Angry because the other bloke stole his breakfast cereal?”

“Most of Set’s forces were running towards our boat, screaming and throwing rocks (which tended to fall down and hit them, but no one says demons are bright).

"Great another mystery. I was about to suggest we ram Amos’s head against it and see if that worked.”

The stuff was so thick and rough, it made me wonder if the poor Egyptians had had to use toilet papyrus. If so, no wonder they walked sideways.”

“I looked back, but Bast and Sadie seemed fine. They were still staring at the water as if it were some amazing Internet video.”

. Why would someone display a rock? Aren't there enough of those in the world?”

“Dejardins was so stunned, he momentarily forgot how to speak English. "Ce n'est pas possible. On ne pourrait pas-”

#Random K #Hello #Former profile #So many quotes #I

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dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt · 5 years

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Matt’s Guide To Unhealthy Relationships

Since I’m pretty experienced now in unhealthy relationships (*insert sad violin music here*) I thought I’d give out some of the signs and you can decide whether or not you’re in a bad situation with your lover/friend/family member/whatever.

They blame you for things that aren’t your fault/take their anger out on you, be it with cold silence or passive-aggressiveness or yelling or physically hurting you or something else (like throwing plates or punching walls) or threatening to hurt you or others or pets. (I had somebody say they had to imagine beating their cat to death once to cope with anger... yeah, even if they meant it as a joke... not normal!! stay far away from me!! thanks!!)

^ They can’t control their emotions and you always seem to cop the brunt of them even though you had nothing to do with why they were angry and/or if you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and “pissed them off” by saying something innocent.

They got super defensive if you try to talk through a problem with them and try to turn the blame back on you

They act really upset and throw a pity-party for themself to make you feel guilty

They give over-the-top apologies that feel too deep and dramatic to be real

They apologize like “I”m sorry you took what I did that way” instead of “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

They might say “well you’ll know never to do that again!” when you ‘set them off’

They seem to almost set traps for you to fall into so they can get ‘righteously’ mad at you

They act like doing things for you is a huge deal and that you now owe them a favour for it

They tell you they love you so much and give you compliments but when it comes down to actions rather than words, they never support you

They back off a few days after an argument and seem to be treating you better but then fall right back into bad habits

They talk badly about your friends or family and try to isolate you

They call you names or “tease” you a bit too much or touch on the insecurities they know you have and it feels a bit too harsh to be meant in a friendly way

They say you’re being too sensitive (doesn’t matter if you are in their eyes, healthy relationships are about respecting and caring about each other and your boundaries, NO true friend will keep doing something that they knows upsets you, even if they don’t understand why it does)

They say they’re trying to get better... but nothing ever changes

They go on huge hour-long rants when they’re sad and you comfort them but the second you say you’re having a bad day they just say “that sucks” and move on, mostly back to talking about themself

They make excuses for everything. [Note: A LOT OF EMOTIONALLY ABUSIVE/MANIPULATIVE PEOPLE WILL BLAME IT ALL ON MENTAL ILLNESS. DO NOT TAKE THAT SHIT AS A REASON TO LET THEM OFF THE HOOK. Mental illnesses are hard to deal with, but if the person never goes to therapy or doesn’t even seem to try to fix it, BIG reg flag. There are always ways to work on mental health. And even if they ARE just that mentally ill, you still have to look out for yourself. DO NOT let people abuse you out of pity or guilt! You are NOT responsible for them, leave if you have to and do NOT look back!]

They talk badly about others behind their backs to you. Harmless venting is fine, but if they seem unreasonable or cruel, and they seem to try to drag you into it, most likely they do the same about you and don’t care as much as you think they do. If you try to defend the person, they try to rationalize it and might snap at you or raise their voice more until you relent.

They seem to lose their temper without warning. One moment you’re fine, the next they’re raging out on you and you don’t even know what’s going on.

They’ve lost friends or lovers before and seem isolated... there’s normally a reason for that

Things based around you never seem to last long; the conversation always ends back with them somehow

You feel constantly anxious or like you have to walk on eggshells when you’re talking to them

They make you feel like you have to comfort them after fights, even if you were the one who was hurt during it

You always end up the one who feels the need to apologize

Every so often you will have a few days of AMAZING fun where everything is equal and wonderful, but then it will deteriorate again. It’s like a fucking drug, the high that keeps you around.

They’re very overcritical of you and will look the gift horse in the mouth every time

You seem to disappoint them at every turn and you find yourself apologizing for anything and everything just to try and stave off the yelling/displeasure

They find something you like and dangle it over your head, like a carrot to keep a donkey plodding along. They always promise to give it to you but you never seem to get it or more than a few bites of said carrot before they take it away to keep you plodding

I’ll say it once, HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS DO NOT MAKE YOU FEEL ANXIOUS OR DEPRESSED OR STRESSED OR INSECURE. There are always bad days to every relationship, but constantly or almost-constantly dreading the inevitable next blow up is. not. healthy.

NOT EVERY UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP IS ABUSIVE. Sometimes two people just don’t get along despite how much they like each other and it’s better to split up than constantly fight or be uncomfortable.

WHEN THE VICTIM NOTICES ABUSE/SOMETHING ISN’T RIGHT, IT IS PROBABLY REALLY REALLY BAD. We are CONDITIONED not to notice it, so when we do, it’s really bad. If you have a bad feeling about a relationship, talk to somebody else you can trust, somebody impartial. If they start freaking out, GET OUT.

IT IS OKAY FOR YOU TO LEAVE. Even if they’re mentally unhealthy, even if you feel responsible for them, IT IS NOT YOUR JOB TO TAKE CARE OF THEM. Think of it this way: they are not getting better with you as their crutch. You will be HELPING them by leaving. Most of the time if an abuser says something like “I don’t know what I’d do without you” or “I couldn’t live without you” this is just a manipulation tactic and not real. You will not be any use to them by sticking around and gaining mental health problems yourself.

And MOST IMPORTANTLY, if you feel like you can’t go on without this person, if you feel like they’re your whole world and without them you will be lonely and depressed, if you feel like you’ll never find another relationship like this one or that you NEED them - NONE of this is true. You WILL find other people: no the relationship will probably not be the same, mostly because it will be WAY HEALTHIER AND BETTER FOR YOU!! There are people who will love you and cherish you and boost you up. There are people who will have the same interests as you. You are not alone. You will be okay. Just ,please, leave that toxic relationship, or it will not end well, I promise. It’s not going to get better, you cannot fix this person. You’re not doing anything wrong.

If you know deep down that something isn’t right, trust that feeling. Take care of yourself, and don’t be tempted to go back to them if you walk away. It’s hard to let go, but remember why you left and stay strong. You’re worth so much more than that. <3

#WE BE LEAVIN BAD RELATIONSHIPS IN 2018 #I wrote this really tired #sorry for types #toxic relationships #abuse #tw: abuse #manipulation #two relationships I had to leave now #bc of this bullshit #I'm done #fuckin done #XD #Matt speaks #relationships #IMPORTANT #please read it all #please check the signs #stay safe bbs

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loxxxlay · 5 years

Text

I think a big problem with certain, ahem, Discourse™ is the fact that people will look at any number of these categories:

autonomous

mind-controlled

under duress

psychologically manipulated

tortured

:and conflate them into one meaning.

When I say “autonomous,” I’m referring to the state we assume any character to be in unless given evidence to the contrary. they are in control of their actions and their decisions, and all responsibility for the consequences fall to them alone.

Mind-controlled is quite obviously the opposite of autonomous. this is not as simple as someone holding a gun to your head and saying “do this or die.” It’s actually someone taking even that choice away from you. the most obvious example of this in Marvel is Clint Barton the earliest Avengers movie*. In this situation, the character has no authority over their actions and has no responsibility to own up to them.

*Now I could also note Dr. Selvig, but it’s possible that even he was not 100% “mind-controlled” because at the end he admits that he maybe made a choice - for the portal to have an on-off switch. there’s a lot of theory on what this means, but canon leaves it entirely uncertain. So you see? Even here, there is some gray area within these definitions.

thus, psychological manipulation, torture, and duress fall to a sort of gray area in between, and it may be difficult to give them a value of how much control the character had over their actions and how much responsibility they should share for the consequences. For clarification’s sake, the gun scenario (”do this or die”) is duress, which can be any threat of harm; psychological manipulation is pressing on the trigger points of someone’s personality and pressuring/encouraging them into a decision they might not have otherwise made; and tortured is physical harm until one submits to the other person’s wishes.

this is where, as i’m sure you can guess, I’m gonna severely ruffle some feathers :’)

[read more cut]

For starters, let’s look at Bucky. Everyone agrees that he was not autonomous in his decisions as the Winter Soldier.

But was he “mind-controlled”? I say no. If he was fully mind-controlled, then the process Hydra enacted upon him shouldn’t have been able to be broken by a few words/memories from Steve. A parallel to this could be the fight between Natasha and Clint - Clint was going to kill Natasha while he was mind-controlled, and nothing Natasha could have said would have stopped him in that battle. It took that cute little “cognitive re-calibration” thing to stop him because the problem was with his actual brain. Someone else was controlling his actions. Versus Bucky, appeals to his emotions and memories did work, because the problem was less with his brain and more the fact that he had been beaten down into submission - he needed a emotionally-compelling reason to break out of the control.

My wording there is gonna piss a lot of people off because it sounds like I’m saying “hurting innocents” was not a compelling enough reason for Bucky to break out of the control - which puts his character in a negative light. And I guess, for the first half of that assumption, you’re right. :/ But it’s so much more complicated than that. And because of the complexity, it actually gives strength to Bucky as a character.

If he wasn’t mind-controlled, and he wasn’t autonomous, then he was either under duress (yes), tortured (yes), or psychologically manipulated (yes) - in short, All of the Above. He was under a constant threat of having his memories wiped, which was a very painful process - this was an instance of all three. And this doesn’t even go into what we learned about his history with Hydra in Civil War (in which he was used as a sparring partner (or less generously, as a punching bag) for other Winter Soldiers). All of these led to him being beaten down. All of these led to his lack of choice, his lack of autonomy. Personally, I think the effect was so strong that it absolves him of any and all responsibility for his actions during his time as the Winter Soldier. But I still wouldn’t call him “mind-controlled” - because for him to break free of that level of force shows how remarkable and admirable of a Survivor he is. And simply calling him “mind-controlled” erases both what happened in canon and also his character’s goodness & strength in my opinion.

So now that we’ve thrown ourselves to the wolves once, let’s do it again with a riskier subject: Loki. :’)

the fact is (and I think, the reason people argue so much) is that canon doesn’t really definitively give us evidence on way or another on any of the different terms. there’s been arguments for Loki’s autonomy as well as evidence for him being mind-controlled by thanos/the Other with the scepter, similarly to what Loki did to Clint (both arguments of which have flaws imo*).

For one, the Other still saw need to threaten Loki with harm, which is a compelling piece of evidence toward at least duress and also something that sways me from believing mind control because duress would be unnecessary if Loki was as mind-controlled as Clint.

However, the point isn’t really about autonomy or mind-control or the other grayer variations of. It’s about the discourse.

Some frequent statements I see are that “Loki was tortured into obeying thanos so his actions should be excused” or from the other side “Maybe he was threatened/tortured a little, but he acted mostly of his own volition, and to say he was tortured rids him of the moral complexity of his character.”

And my question toward statements like that are - are your two ideas really so far apart as you seem to think?

For the former statement, I see someone conflating mind-control with torture. For the latter, I see someone conflating torture/duress with autonomy. Both are an extremely similar headcanons at the core, but with different attitudes on what it means for Loki’s culpability - and with different (and sorry but also mistaken) views on what the gray areas mean morally.

For example, I don’t think Bucky is responsible for his actions because he was manipulated and tortured--but tony stark does. And while I don’t get that, there are a lot of people who side with tony in Civil War, so I can probably assume my point of view is not the only one that might be correct.

It’s the same thing here.

Judging someone who suffered trauma in their past which directly led them to morally questionable actions is a tough marsh to navigate. You might applaud a victim of child abuse for killing their abuser, even after their abuser is to be imprisoned. You might not applaud a victim of a gun-point robbery for killing their attacker after their attacker is to be imprisoned. Even moreso, you are extremely unlikely to applaud someone murdering their friend for a minor, verbal disagreement. Where do you draw the line of what constitutes culpability and what does not?

thus, the problem with Loki is that all of us might draw the line in a different place. And even then, all of us might put Loki on a slightly different side of that line because of the lack of specific canonical details.

But what few seem to be doing is acknowledging the fact that cases like this aren’t easy. there’s a lot of moral gray area between autonomy and mind control, and I doubt we, as complex individuals, are going to ever be able to find an answer that pleases everyone.

*Note: I have no problem with people who prefer headcanons in which Loki was fully autonomous or fully mind-controlled. While it’s true I don’t think canon supports either stance, I support you; fandom is your playground and you have every right to enjoy yourself how you see fit. I simply ask that you hear me out when I ask y’all to treat each other’s differences of opinions kindly and respectfully. <3

In the end, we are all fans of fictional characters--and because they are fictional characters, we have a huge opportunity here! We don’t need to worry about making the “wrong decision” toward a potential victim of abuse because Loki and Bucky and other characters do not suffer consequences the way someone in real life would. therefore, we have the ability to consider these questions of morality and test them out for ourselves without causing harm.

Unfortunately, what many people seem to be doing is yelling at each other and treating people with a huge lack of respect. :/

See, unlike Loki and Bucky, these are real life people you are hurting in these situations - people who are simply trying to test out their morality on fictional characters, like you. I see terribleness from all sides, even the ones I agree with, and so I just wrote this in the hope that there will be less fighting. And even if this only leads to a couple people somewhere modifying their feelings toward these subjects, I’ll consider it a success.

thanks so much if you read all the way through <3

Being autistic, I do tend to ramble and sound condescending, so if that happened anywhere in this post, I sincerely apologize. It was not my intent, and I did the best I could. :( Feel free to let me know so I can modify any of my language used here to be more polite. <3

Also, I apologize for lowercase t’s. My t key is broken, so I can’t capitalize it without it being time-consuming and annoying >.>

Finally - you’re welcome to reblog and debate on this post if you wishh, but I likely won’t be responding. Many times when people try to debate me, it’s because they haven’t taken the time to truly understand what I’m saying and they end up misunderstanding some of my points. I get upset trying to repeat myself to no fruition, and for my mental health, I will be avoiding that here. But if I feel I have something new to say and I have the spoons, then I will!! ^_^ (However, if you are attack me personally, rather than just my argument, then I’ll flay you or block you - whichever is easier at the time. ^_^)

#loki #loki meta #bucky #marvel #lox .... talks?#this isn't personal lmao #but i don't have a meta taggggg t_t #long post #but with a read more #meta #lox writes

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another-tiny-ant · 5 years

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New Beginnings

The New Year, a new start. It’s a cliché. But I am currently en route to my new home at university, having left my previous flat, so it truly is a new start. I’m really apprehensive, I suppose my experiences have taught me to be careful around new people. Even when at first they seem kind and friendly, they can turn on you at any point. Aware of my cynicism, I think in the past I have overcompensated instead, and thrown myself into investing in new people, only to be betrayed and mistreated further on down the line, and ended up being angry with myself for not anticipating it, or worse still, deliberately ignoring the signs. This is exactly the “victimhood” Eger describes in the exerts I posted in my previous post. I am trying to shed this cynicism, and pessimism, especially this year. But I think it is human nature to recede into yourself, and be hesitant around new people, at least to some extent, when you have been hurt. And I have always seemed to feel the pain of mistreatment from others especially keenly. This sensitivity has always been a negative trait, a poisoned chalice. But I want to see this as something positive. I want to wear my heart on my sleeve with pride. It is an important part of my identity. And whilst it is my weakness, it is also my strength; although I feel the pain more acutely, I am also able to love more deeply, and live compassionately. I have always believed in the importance of kindness. I have been bullied. But I will never, ever, become the bully. The cycle breaks with me.

The cynicism, the anger, the betrayal, the pessimism, that I suffer from, is part of my illness. But I think it has complicated origins. Probably the most significant cause is my experience of school. The bullying, the lack of self esteem, of confidence. My hands are here on the keys, but I can’t form the words. I don’t want to talk about the bullying, not now at least. I know to be truly free you have to confront the demons of your past, so that you can heal. I don’t think I can just yet. But I can talk about other things. The disability that has impeded me my whole life, which has been elusive enough to be invisible for diagnosis, but obvious enough for me to be bullied and ridiculed, at times brutally. The crushing of my dreams. That sounds so pretentious, but I think this is the real cause for how I feel now. The final nail in the coffin of the shit-mix cocktail.

Throughout school, what kept me going, through all of the abuse and self-doubt, was my work. I poured myself into my books- working towards something gave it all greater meaning: one day, I’ll pass my tormentors in the supermarket, and I’ll have moved on to much better things. I was pretty ignored in school, or even ridiculed, by some of my teachers. A couple were supportive, and to them I’ll always be grateful for getting me through. But when I aced my GCSEs, it came as a surprise to pretty much everyone, including me. I’d always thought I was an idiot. I worked so hard simply to distract myself from everything else. But suddenly, teachers, and even management in the school, took real interest in me. They persuaded me to apply for Oxbridge. Academia was all I had. I didn’t really have any friends. And so it became my identity. I applied for Oxbridge. I was ‘the smartest girl in the year’. Mostly, that was a heavy badge to wear- I had the p*ss taken out of me pretty mercilessly, and jealous girls were especially cruel. It sounds so pretentious saying all of this. But it’s true, that’s what I became. Going to Cambridge became my dream. I visited, and it was gorgeous. It was the promise of something better- people I could relate to, who shared an interest with me in the world around me that no one else seemed to. I’m sure now that it was a fantasy; I never would have fitted in. But at the time, it was real. I went to a lecture there, and spoke to the lecturer at the end. I was excited, I was inspired, I was brimming with potential. The lecturer was impressed. My teachers were impressed. I went to the interview, and I could feel the positive reaction from the two academics in my second interview. In the first interview, I was more grilled. And in the entrance exam, my confidence really faltered. But the college I applied to shared my name. Everyone seemed to believe I was perfect for it, even my teacher that studied there. It was meant to be. And I made the fatal mistake; I dared to hope, I dared to believe. I never told anyone else that, I was too ashamed. Even then, at my most confident, I was still afraid to express my belief that someone like me would be allowed in.

Inevitably, I was rejected. I’d got so far. Past the initial application. Past the exams. Past the interview. All the way to the Winter Pool- the college was even ready to offer me a place, if it had been big enough. If, if, if. I was not good enough. And I was crushed. I don’t think I’ve ever recovered, if I’m completely honest. The thought occurred to me this morning, at about 2:36. That rejection shattered the self confidence I had finally managed to build, in those few months. My identity was false. I had built my foundations on academic attainment, and I should have known better- arbitrary measurements like that, from a broken and elitist system, were never the right choice to construct myself upon. But I was heartbroken. I had dared to believe that kids with disabilities, from a state school background, and generally f*cked up by the whole institution, could earn themselves a place. I would be the first in my mum’s line to go to university. And not only that, the best university. Studying there for me was so symbolic, for so many reasons. But eventually, I’d buckled under the pressure, and I just wasn’t quite good enough. Despite all the hard work I’d invested, for years, with no help, and rarely even the support of my teachers. That loss has cost me in all of my academic endeavours ever since- I nearly missed my offers for my other unis, and I’ve never felt confident at university. And never again will I believe in fate. Our lives are determined by luck. If you find something precious, hold onto it, and never, ever let go.

The university application experience had much more far reaching impacts for me though. It revealed to me the inherent unfairness of our education system, but also our society. No matter how hard you try, the system is against you. I am disenchanted, disillusioned. I see the mess of our current political system, the hurt and suffering around the world, the conflict, the greed, the corruption... and I am numb. Sometimes I’m so angry, I want to punch a wall. I ball up my fists and clench my toes and set my jaw, and listen to angry music. Other times I want to curl up in a ball, and cry and cry. And maybe it will all wash over me. But I cannot make change, and I cannot make myself blind either. Instead, I am just a witness. I used to believe that I would go into politics. I’d make a change from the inside. But who am I kidding? They’d never let me in. I care, but I don’t manipulate. I shake and stutter when I’m afraid. I am forgetful. I think I care too much. I would be chewed up and spat out by the political system. I feel directionless. What is the point? I used to find solace in my books; now they are part of my disenchantment. It damaged me in so many ways. But I have to see the positives. Though painful, the awareness of this unfairness means I would be better able to make a change. The disappointment, the hurt, the bitterness- it could all be channeled somehow. And even if not, I coped. I got on with it. I still went to a good uni, despite everything that happened. Hopefully, by the end of it all, I will be employable. I will have potential. I have so many options of what to do with my life in the future. Most importantly though, despite my uni experience thus far not being what I’ve hoped for, it did introduce me to my boyfriend. We are specks of dust caught in a changeable wind, and somehow, we were blown to each other. It will all be worth it for that; we will figure out our future together.

I really am trying to come to terms with all of the shit that weighs me down. I am trying to change my outlook. I have the support and love of some very precious people. I will get better. I don’t want to be a victim anymore. I want to be a survivor. My teenage suffering is behind me, forever.

🖤🐜🖤

#lifeonthelog #anothertinyant #newbeginnings #i'm a survivor #fuck the establishment #teenagers scare the living shit out of me #hello good times

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violetsystems · 3 years

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#personal

I finally wrapped up most of the damage from 2020. Among all the pain and suffering I had to deal with from all sides, the financials were the most ambiguous. I read all these thinks pieces about the lasting damage it has done to the American economy. And then there’s the situations I find myself in that I am left to embrace alone. The reality is that most people seem to think there’s nothing wrong with me. Kind of like when I go to the dentist year after year and nobody ever says anything about fixing a crooked tooth. They floss around it. I feel them flossing around it. I apparently wear the defects so well that they become me. Whatever chunk was taken out of my life still keeps biting. There are no shortage of victims in this day and age. I’ve often had to read into the fact that nobody wants me to identify that way. For some reason based on what people think they know about me there’s a judgement placed without my knowing it’s due process. I’m laughably somewhere in the middle of everything through survival. Getting into arguments online or in the street to prove points for yourself is a losing battle. I have to realize the mindfuck of it all either way. I’m constantly playing damage control in a world that shoots itself in the foot to feel alive. If I look back at how long I’ve survived on this planet, I can admit to myself I’ve seen worse outcomes. To think a year ago, I was in a stable job with a stable amount of debt I couldn’t quite escape the gravity from. It was always me alone grinding to try and do that. And to this day how many ever stories you’ve heard about me across the world don’t really pay the bills or encourage people to treat me like a human being. I deal with people following me around and trying to communicate in ways I never consented to daily. Everybody’s vampiric instinct for some sort of intelligent connection is at my footstep every ten feet when I go out for groceries. People overstep the boundaries so much I’ve had to rewrite them for myself for protection. Now I’m boxed into cheap rent with no guarantees and everybody’s opinion about me on eleven. It’s the type of shit that would make anyone go nuts. Let alone everyone struggling for pieces of your power so they can have the upper hand in terms of social dominance. I get it. Almost too much. I live in a city where egos flare up every day. There’s no shortage of people spray painting gang symbols in pink all over my alley because somebody made the mistake of getting it fucking twisted. I have to walk through that aftermath and know it all. That everything I say or do is watched, taken out of context, manipulated to start shit because somebody feels some type of way about shit they do not know the repercussions of. People get shot in my city every day. I walk alone. Sometimes I take the bus when somebody is up in my face with something to prove on an abandoned street. My imperfections of which there are many aren’t ever going to save me. My brain does. And of the most sexy things in this world beyond my greying hair, my coffee stained imperfect dentistry or my pockmarked skin, I am human too. I live in a country where everyone envy’s the ability to speak freely without being taken to the stake for it. That’s always been a lie. I live that lie and dodge it every day. And there are no real door prizes for second place in that battle except dwindling health care benefits and a lump sum pension.

On the other hand, through all this I continue to make magic happen. I’m sure people can romanticize how it feels. There are times when it feels like I’m worth it. Everybody wants to roast you out here to feel better about themselves. I’d rather have girls show off their makeup tutorials in safety around me than deal with your petty online hierarchies. And this is what happens on a very hyperlocal level. People out here know what I’m about for better or for worse. It’s called the internet. People all over the world seem to have an opinion about what makes me tick after I’ve spent over three years writing my heart and soul in three paragraphs on the internet. And yet I’m still the enemy. I’m still someone you don’t quite trust. Someone you more than often throw under the bus because I can take it. Or there’s something I haven’t been through yet that makes me less threatening. To break me first so you can control me. And yet here I am out here with the remote control to my own life boarded into a fiscal cage. I’ve gone from worrying about money to worrying about when to switch to single payer healthcare. I’ve gone from holding down the fort to wanting to pack up my cat and leave completely. And I will have nothing holding me back. No hurt feelings. No vampiric lust for revenge or closure. No desire to be understood or seen. People abuse me every day in public and online as their own personal punching bag because they don’t have the strength or the will to practice on the real enemy. The same enemy I’ve been fighting up close and persona for years. Does this make me a beast? Yes. It makes me far more powerful than anybody would ever know. And yet I know the reality. I’ve lived it in my own city for years. People do not want people to be strong without some sort of failsafe device. Some secret way to cancel their mutant powers. Some word or phrase to break them when they fear the freedom and power running through their veins. Most of the time when that happens I’m paying my bills on time while holding back endless waves of childhood trauma living and growing up weak, smart, and awkward in America. And here I am still awkwardly unaccepted unless I submit. Unless I show some sort of weakness I haven’t already conquered. I’m defective just like you. But somehow it’s inconvenient for you to approach the reasons you can’t see that. You’d rather lump me in with everyone else and throw your shot. You take the hail mary play I’ve seen time and time again from people who secretly are uncomfortable with me winning. You try to make your bluff at the poken table and I have the winning hand. Soon I just realize it’s not worth my time playing. I find another table to saunter off to that doesn’t reward on house rules. And here I am out here again winning in spite of all the shit you people constantly talk on your secret club house forums. You might even take away bits and pieces of my own arguments over the years and use them against me. And where do you end up? In the same pitiful and tired argument over and over again. Nobody is going to lift you up from the graves being built around you other than you. This is what I have learned and have to process every day. The last eleven months have been barren at best. And yet I have no hope of it getting any better. I’m hurt, A pain that I’ve been able to manage by removing myself from culture that pokes and prods the scars. Like they’re doing you a favor while they watch you sink. Throwing rocks at the body floating down the river. Me playing dead long enough to run away.

If you want me to be honest, it pisses me off how worthless it is to argue anymore. To jump into this week’s political thought piece. To argue what a bunch of rich people vote on and why. To feel like you are part of any sort of people’s revolution that literally plays a ranking game in terms of suffering. America is good at valuing things. We take it to the extreme and drown everyone out in the process. The whole world is learning from us. And yet America and Americans are a diverse bunch. About the only thing I can tell you about America that is working right now is the IRS. That and my bank investigating just how many times I’ve been a target of fraud.. You’d think after all these words typed out into the internet that someone would realize I’m just as much of a victim as some people. Maybe not in the same way. But people would rather nitpick and point the finger to divert the attention from themselves. And the eye of fucking Sauron is always on me. Not you. You do not understand the weight of that statement that I live with everyday. Everyone has a fucking problem with me now. I have to walk through that brutal street catwalk every day in a city that would rather shoot you than discuss it’s feeling about the situation. And yet I’m supposed to feel sorry for everyone first. I’m supposed to watch my tongue for the secret internet and cultural police that control who wins and who loses. Did I forget to mention I live in America? The country everyone lauds as being the freest place in the universe. I’ll give you a hint. It is. I fucking live it. I talk and write about it too. And my voice is heard around the fucking planet without anybody having the least respect for how it plays out in my life. I could have died many times over because somebody had to use my life to prove a point. And it’s collapsed into a void in which I am trapped while everyone continues to throw stones. Everyone except the people I love. And the people that love me back. I’m being real with you. I stick my neck out every waking moment to live the life I believe is real. And there are no guarantees. No expectations. No hope or clearly worded rules or communication on how to progress. And week after week. Tooth after chipped and crooked tooth I speak my mind. I walk with accountability while people stare at the fucking ground. I live in a loneliness so deep and intense that ghosts still speak volumes. Things will never be forgotten no matter how silent I become. And yet people talk over it like I’m already dead. They stop at nothing to invade my life and defile every chance for me to not fade away. What in these three paragraphs to you defines me as the enemy? Because I have more power to make my dreams come true? Do you want to put yourself into the hell of walking in my shoes? Do you want to wander these streets without a weapon other than your kindness and patience? Do you lie awake at night thinking you will die alone without anyone having the reading comprehension to know what it is you are going through. I will answer this for you. No you don’t. Because you will see the exact hell that I know very well. No one saves you in this life but you. No one will pick you up out of the hole other than you. Nobody will tell you when you look in the mirror alone that you are beautiful other than you. To live with that knowledge and to take it out on other people is fucked. To judge other people you don’t even know who exhaust themselves to explain is a losing battle for attention. You should already know the simple fucking answer. Because I’m worth it. And I’m sick of beating myself up for people who think they are the only ones in pain. I’m dying here. Mostly from lack of open space and personal freedoms. Sounds like any other country you know other than America. Home of the free. I’m going to go exercise my freedoms on these weights. Because gravity holds pity on noone. And it’s easier to fall than to rise. That takes works regardless of how you were born into this world. Let’s stop fighting each other and pay more attention to the planet. You’ve already caused enough damage biting off more than you can chew. <3 Tim

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