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wisteriabookss · 3 years

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An Extensive Analysis of Eris

The recent excerpt from ACOSF has got this fandom spinning on it’s head because it includes a feral-smiling Eris waltzing with Nesta. As a result, people have now delved deeper into his character and whether or not he deserves a redemption arc (or an arc of any kind).

So naturally, he has been compared to Rhys, because Rhys also appeared to us in the beginning as a cruel, cunning person, who was eventually revealed to have a bigger heart, and a valid excuse (at least amongst the IC) for his behavior.

I made this post to mainly catalogue all that Eris has done, analyze his actions, see if he indeed can be compared to Rhys, and to determine whether or not he should have a redemption arc.

What We Know So Far

Our first mention of Eris is in ACOMAF, when Rhysand is explaining to Feyre what happened to Mor. I could put the quotes here, but just to save some time I’m gonna make a long story short.

Mor’s father, Keir, declared that she was to be sold in marriage to Eris. Eris is known for being cruel, and Mor begged Rhys to stop it. Rhys brought her to the Illyrian camp for a few days, and she decided to sleep with Cassian in order to ruin her “pure” image. Because she slept with Cassian, Eris refused to marry her. Said, “she’d been sullied by a bastard-born lesser faerie, and he’d now sooner fuck a sow.” Her family, although it’s not said explicitly, basically beat her, and then dumped her body on the Autumn court border with a note nailed to her body that said she was Eris’s problem now. Eris left her for dead in the middle of their woods.

Now, we’re going to look at what he exactly said during this event, given to us from Mor’s POV in ACOFAS:

“Don’t touch her.” Those steps stopped. It was not a warning to protect her. Defend her.

“No one touches her,” he said. Eris. “The moment we do, she’s our responsibility.”

Cold, unfeeling words. “But—but they nailed a—”

“No one touches her.”

A pale, beautiful face appeared above her, blocking out the jewel-like leaves above. Unmoved. Impassive. “I take it you do not wish to live here, Morrigan.”

He must have read it in her eyes. A small smile curved his lips. “I thought so.”

Eris took a step away. Someone behind him blurted, “We can’t just leave her to—”

“We can, and we will,” Eris said simply, his pace unfaltering as he strode away.

“She chose to sully herself; her family chose to deal with her like garbage. I have already told them my decision in this matter.” A long pause, crueler than the rest. “And I am not in the habit of fucking Illyrian leftovers.”

Now that we have Mor’s side of the story, we’re going to look at what Eris has said about that fateful day during a discussion with the IC in ACOWAR:

Mor snarled, rattling the glasses. “You never gave any evidence to the contrary. Certainly not when you left me in those woods.”

“There were forces at work that you have never considered,” Eris said coldly. “And I am not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me.”

. . . .

A frown at Mor as he drained his wine and set down the goblet. “I’m surprised you still can’t control yourself around him. You had every emotion written right on that pretty face of yours.”

“Watch it,” Azriel warned.

Eris looked between them, smiling faintly. Secretly. As if he knew something that Azriel didn’t. “I wouldn’t have touched you,” he said to Mor, who blanched again. “But when you fucked that other bastard—” A snarl ripped from Rhys’s throat at that. And my own. “I knew why you did it.” Again that secret smile that had Mor shrinking. Shrinking. “So I gave you your freedom, ending the betrothal in no uncertain terms.”

“And what happened next,” Azriel growled.

A shadow crossed Eris’s face. “There are few things I regret. That is one of them. But … perhaps one day, now that we are allies, I shall tell you why. What it cost me.”

A main takeaway from this is that there seems to be much more to story of what happened between Eris and Mor.

Does that mean him leaving her in the woods is excusable? No. Absolutely not. He didn’t try to take the nail out of her (which would’ve been the bare minimum), he didn’t alert Rhys that she was there, he didn’t do anything to help her. He started to make the situation even more traumatic by saying vile things to her. Whatever reason he gives for not helping her will be just that: a reason. But not an excuse. Those are two very different things.

Eris say’s that leaving her there is one of the few things he regrets. There’s something in that. I’m not saying under any circumstance that he should be forgiven because he feels guilty, thats stupid as hell, but it is showing that he’s not some apathetic, other-worldy evil person. There’s some semblance of a conscious in him.

He also say’s that one day he’ll tell them why he did it and what it cost him. By what it cost him, I’m guessing he’s talking about the cost of ending his betrothal to Mor, because I can’t think of what he lost by leaving her there.

I don’t think there’s been any mention of someone getting revenge on Eris because A.) Rhys told Feyre that, “Azriel found her a day later. It was all I could do to keep him from going to either court and slaughtering them all.” and B) her family was obviously going to do nothing cause they’re the ones who hurt her.

I’m not going to try and theorize what cost Eris had to pay. It obviously is something (or someone) important to him.

But to me, one of the biggest things we got from this discussion is that it seems Eris knows Mor is gay. That secret smile of his that had Mor shrinking, the way he says he knows why she slept with Cassian, and that he gave Mor her freedom by ending the betrothal without giving a reason . . . he knows.

He knew she was gay, so he ended their engagement, no questions asked. And then Mor was dumped in his woods, and he did nothing to help.

Morally grey, indeed.

(P.S. To the person that posted something along the lines of, “I can’t wait to see Mor’s face when she see’s Eris dancing with Nesta,” . . . get help)

Another excerpt I wanna look at also happens during the recent discussion we’ve just seen, but it has to do with Feyre and Lucien.

“You hunted me down like an animal,” I cut in. “I think we’ll choose to believe the worst.”

Eris’s pale face flushed. “I was given an order. And sent to do it with two of my … brothers.”

That little hesitation before he says ‘brothers’. . . sus. That’s all imma say. (maybe there’s more than one illegitimate son in that family . . .)

“And what of the brother you hunted down alongside me? The one whose lover you helped to execute before his eyes?”

Eris laid a hand flat on the table. “You know nothing about what happened that day. Nothing.”

Silence.

“Indulge me,” was all I said.

Eris stared me down. I stared right back.

“How do you think he made it to the Spring border,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t there— when they did it. Ask him. I refused. It was the first and only time I have denied my father anything. He punished me. And by the time I got free … They were going to kill him, too. I made sure they didn’t. Made sure Tamlin got word—anonymously—to get the hell over to his own border.”

Where two of Eris’s brothers had been killed. By Lucien and Tamlin.

Eris picked at a stray thread on his jacket. “Not all of us were so lucky in our friends and family as you, Rhysand.”

We see another semblance of conscious here when Eris refuses to take part in the slaughtering of Jesminda. To even be in the same room as it. He then made sure that Lucien wasn’t going to die by making sure Tamlin was at his border.

I’m not putting these quotes here to say, “Look, he cares about stuff , so let’s excuse everything he’s done.” No. There is no excusing any of his actions. Just like we can’t excuse Rhysand’s behavior in the first two books, or Cassian’s, or Nesta’s, or even Feyre’s, etc. But what we can do is see the reasons for their actions, and try and understand why they acted the way they did. They have their reasons, and Eris has his. (P.S. I’m not trying to compare what they’ve done, I’m just noting that they all had reasons to do what they’ve done, and they all deserve to be heard out.)

Comparison To Rhys

As I said earlier, Eris has drawn a lot of comparisons to Rhys. I agree with most of them.

This fandom has catalogued all of Rhys’s questionable actions like . . .

*TRIGGER WARNING: words like sexually assaulted*

Rhys sexually assaulting Feyre three times in the first book by drugging her, and then compelling her to give him lap dances in front of the folks Under The Mountain. He then displayed Feyre again in a sexual manner in the second book in front of The Court of Nightmares as, and I quote, “The High Lords Whore.”

In both situations he could’ve done things so much differently. In the first book, he could’ve just, oh I don’t know, kept her in her cell? Or maybe brought her upstairs as a normal person?

And in the second one she literally could have been ANYTHING else. Everyone thinks she’s his prisoner, so why didn’t they go with that? Why couldn’t he have just dressed her in some raggedy-ass clothing, messed up her hair, and then tell her to act super stoic or frightened? Really Rhys, she just had to be your whore? (I know it was consensual but that doesn’t make her persona okay. He could’ve picked literally anything else)

Did he have his reasons for doing this? Yes. Does his reasons excuse what he did? No. You don’t have to make everyone else around you act a part just because you do.

So while we may not excuse Rhys’s actions, we can understand his reasons even if we don’t agree with them. Same with Eris. We know Eris has his reasons, and I doubt we’ll all agree with them, but he still has them.

Let’s also not forget that Rhysand made a deal with Eris and Keir that he would support Eris’s claim to the Autumn Court throne when Eris decides to kill his father for it. He also allowed Keir and his court to come into Velaris, and even though they’ll be turned away by every vendor, he still allowed them in. While he had his reasons for doing this (the Darkling army for ACOWAR) he still did it. It still hurt Mor.

Redemption Arc

My biggest hesitation in thinking Eris will get a redemption arc is wondering where it would fit in the books for him to have one. We don’t know how if his waltz with Nesta is just a one-time thing or if it’s a result of a friendship between the two. The second book is supposed to be centered around Elain, Azriel, and Lucien, so that could also be a spot where he get’s an arc, maybe through a relationship with Lucian or Azriel.

Either way, I’m not gonna bring down the hammer and say that he shouldn’t get a redemption arc. Tbh, the term ‘redemption arc’ kinda annoys me because it shouldn’t be about redeeming what was done in the past, but more about learning from past mistakes and taking the initiative to grow into a better person. That’s what I want for Eris. He’s not going to magically be revealed to be this super sweet fun-loving guy like Rhys. I don’t want him to be revealed like that either.

I just want to see more of his character, see why he is the way he is, and, like i’ve said a million times in this post, know his reasons for acting the way he does.

One last thing before I go. I’m not interested in seeing any relationship blossom between Eris and the IC, or Nesta, and I think it’s unlikely anyways. There’s a possibility for them to have an understanding, sure, but no friendship. I know there are some people who automatically adore Eris because they hate Mor and that’s just stupid. Mor isn’t my fav either, but I won’t cheer Eris on just because he hurt her.

That’s all I’ve got. If you’ve made it this far, I appreciate you. Really.

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couch-house · 4 years

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Wow people like that anon are why we need to be more educated about manipulation via self-destruction. We all need to understand and know that if we constantly, repeatedly "make" someone feel bad enough to consider harmful actions just through TINY contradictions it might just not be us and we don't have to put up with all the stress, discomfort, depression, etc. that comes from it. And sometimes it's really obvious when it's manipulation, it's not NEVER an option.

exactly bro. i’m gonna do something real fun and talk about my abuser, who did this for years! under the cut

so im just gonna come right out and say it so i dont gotta give him an epithet every time, but his name was dibby/dib. he goes by a different name now i think but from what ive heard it seems like ppl r familiar with him by that name as well. w/e for his privacy i guess ill just leave his current name out of it. anyway i knew and was friends with/dated dib for about 7 years before we cut each other out.

ANYWAY dib had/has legitimate mental health problems, yes, but he also chose to use those problems as excuses for his manipulative and abusive behavior. dib had bipolar and would experience dramatic mood swings. unfortunate but normal and okay! if you experience mood swings and suddenly feel overwhelmed by sadness or anger, you probably know that, if you recognize this as a disorder, you should let the people around you know, tell them how you’re feeling, and do what you can to manage the situation. dib would instead say “oh no i feel a mood swing coming. :( quick, distract me!” which, again is a clumsy but fair way to handle that, EXCEPT when it inevitably failed to cheer him up, he would blame us for failing, call us bad friends, insist we didn’t care about him, and isolate to only talking with his favorite person (for a while that was me).

when dib got upset he would blow up, block me for days or weeks, and then later when he calmed down and felt lonely he’d add me back with some half-apology and assume everything was fine again. here’s a list i kept of things that upset him and had this result! it was called “things not to do”

tell dib when [his gf] is streaming

fail to tell dib when [his gf] is streaming

ask dib if it’s okay to do things

talk to him when he’s feeling antisocial

offer critique when it isn’t asked for

ask dib not to do something

talk to him in the tags (when not friends)

spam things he doesn’t like/isn’t involved in ((the relevant examples are bug blogs, bunnies, and the pbs kids show arthur. not because they trigger him, just because he doesn’t like them))

talk about/mention people that are my friends that he doesn’t like

offer solutions when he just needs confirmation

make it about you

yeah. keep in mind every one of those bullet points corresponds to at least one time he either faked his own death or blew up and blocked me for a week.

the bigger problem though was his suicide ideation. dib had a pretty shit life and pretty shit mental health and unfortunately was legitimately depressed and suicidal. he needed help but, living in america, really couldnt afford it most of the time. this is okay. if you or someone you know is unable to get medical health for depression or suicide ideation you know how hard it is to live with. sometimes there’s not a lot you can do and that person will Just Be Depressed an just Want To Die and theres not a lot you can do to help, even if you try your best. that of course, is not the problem with dib.

the problem was repeatedly, starting i think when i criticized him for pushing everyone away by insisting no one cares about him and not putting any effort towards others, would make some vague allusion to feeling suicidal and abruptly log off and stop answering messages. this can be an okay way to deal with yourself if you’re upset BUT. THE NEXT DAY, after i frantically thought he was going to Attempt and repeatedly messaged him to try to deter him, check on him, ask if he was okay (he really just went to sleep, which again is fine), he decided to PRETEND TO BE DEAD. he told his gf and maybe one other person he was alive but threatened them to stay quiet and pretend he was dead or he WOULD commit. so his gf at the time had to play along and all of us then-kids were freaking out that our friend had died, only for him to decide later that he’d had his fun and he could now announce “no i just logged off for a little bit :)”

he did this. many times. make some allusion to wanting to attempt then abruptly stop answering messages, knowing what people would assume. (this was one of the pieces of testimony i did not include verbatim in that rk post: i was told rk would do very similar things; part of why i thought the post was necessary. ive lived through the other side of that and i dont want ANYONE else to). i think two separate times that he did this, i was sent home from school early because i was crying so hard (my best friend let me think i was responsible for his death. he did this on purpose. he did this repeatedly. thats fucked up)

one time he posted a supposedly queued suicide note post! and all my friends were terrified he’d died! so i remember someone anonymously messaged kylee henke asking for advice, and i (who at the time he was mad at and had already blocked) got fed up with it (again because he’d done this so many times and i knew by now that there was no point in getting upset, he was just doing it for sympathy or attention or w/e) and messaged his mom on facebook asking her to check on him. he was fine, just like. crying in his room. also sidenote he got BIG MAD that someone told his mom and was posting when he was found out liek WHO TOLD >:( n i was like :)). bc bro if ur really abt to attempt i have an Obligation to get someone irl to check on you and protect you. but obviously you werent since this was like the 20th fucking time youve done this 🙃

he was a huge pizza shit for other reasons too but the main relevant one was that he would use his mental illness as an excuse for his deplorable behavior and blame others for things literally no one can reasonably do anythign about and then constantly and i DO MEAN CONSTANTLY use his own life and suicide ideation as a trump card.

anyway if you know someone who repeatedly threatens suicide or pretends to commit suicide by purposefully alluding to it before ghosting you, or posting a suicide note meant to blame others, you need to get out of there right now. that is not okay and you should not be dealing with that. ive taken years to get used to the idea that if i criticize my friends, they won’t kill themselves

#you didnt ask for this but i wanted to vent lol #anyway if you know who this is... steer clear #he was still engaging in this behavior at 21 #he is the same age as me #nonart #suicide ment #abuse ment #ask to tag #also i wrote this out of order so it might be. incomprehensible #Anonymous

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jesus-otaku · 7 years

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Okay, so it’s a little past afternoon, but it’s still Sunday, so...this fanfic post is officially on time!

Title: Shall We Dance? (Part 5)

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Ladynoir, Adrinette, some implied Cheesecake (Plagg/Tikki)

Word count: 3396 oops how do these chapters keep getting so long

My personal playlist for this part: Surely (I Love You) [Huey Lewis and the News], What’s Next? [Big Bad Voodoo Daddy], You’re Only Human (Second Wind) [Billy Joel]

I am so proud of myself for getting this posted on time. I had a fiasco during research and I was afraid I might not get it out when I said I would. But it’s here! On time! Happy day! (Enjoy!)

“God, there was so much that could go wrong.”

________________________

The classroom brackets to choose their pair for the district competition were posted. Marinette felt vaguely as if she might throw up. She and Adrien were assigned to go up against Alya and Nino, of all people, in the first round. Marinette personally thought it would be a miracle if they made it past this round. She still hadn't gotten used to dancing the tango with Adrien; they'd be lucky if she didn't trip them both within the first two minutes. “Am I allowed to forfeit?” she asked Alya, who was standing next to her and looking at the brackets, although she already knew the answer was no.

Alya smiled with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Unfortunately, unless you want a failing grade for not participating …”

Marinette grabbed at Alya's arm. “You have to help me. I'm going to make a fool of myself and make Adrien look bad in front of the entire class. I can't let that happen! He'd never forgive me!”

“Well, actually, knowing Adrien, I'm pretty sure he'd forgive you before you even apologized,” Alya replied with a laugh. She removed Marinette's hand from her arm. “And you'll be fine. If it's that bad, you could always try imagining that you're dancing with someone else.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but she caught sight of something or someone behind Marinette, and started heading across the studio to Nino. “Good luck. I'd better go help Nino figure out our choreography!”

“Alya, wai—”

“Morning, Marinette,” Adrien greeted her, coming up beside her. He gave her his usual cheerful, sunny smile that always set her heart pounding double-time. “We start working on choreography today, right?”

“Yeahning—I mean norming—I mean morning,” she stammered. She pasted a smile on her face and hope it looked genuine enough to cover up how nervous she was feeling. “I mean good morning! Yeah. Um … that is, yes. Yes, we're supposed to start choreographying—choreographing! We're supposed to start choreographing today.” God, she needed to stop talking before she made herself look like an even bigger idiot. Her stupid mouth couldn't seem to listen to her brain, though, and she found herself stuttering on like a fool. “Since … um … the competition district is … ack, I mean the district competition is coming up and we have to—well, the class has to … um … pick who we're going to send for our age bracket. To compete. In the competition.”

Somehow, Adrien must have understood what she was trying to say, because he nodded and asked, “Is there an assigned song that we have to choreograph our dance to?” He set his bag down and crossed over to the warm-up bar so he wasn't blocking the door anymore.

Marinette hurried to join him. “We have a few songs to fick prom—I mean pick from.” This day was off to a horrible start so far. She couldn't even talk like a normal human being. Choreographing anything today was going to be a nightmare.

Adrien, of course, (bless his soul,) had more presence of mind than Marinette, and proved to be a natural at choreographing. With her limited, stammered input, he selected the music for their dance from Miss Bustier's provided CDs, and immediately set about figuring out how they would open the dance.

“… And then maybe some kind of turn? That could work really well with this crescendo in the music.” He turned to Marinette. “What do you think? Should we do a turn here?”

“Huh?” Put on the spot, she could hardly manage more than a few broken syllables. “I … well … if … maybe … we could … and … um …”

Adrien stepped away from the bar. “How about we practice what we've got so far? Then we can see how well the turn would work.” He held his arms out in the ballroom position, waiting for her to join him.

Inwardly, Marinette cringed. This was not going to end well, she could tell already. She could barely even talk to him today. There was no way she was going to manage dancing with him. Especially not the blasted tango. But, since it was Adrien and she could never tell him no in a million years, she got to her feet and let him take her hand in his for the ballroom position.

It was a catastrophe.

“I'm sorry,” Adrien apologized when the third move nearly ended in Marinette tripping both of them. “I forgot, I learned that one back when I was in private lessons. I should have asked if you knew it first.”

“That's—it's—I mean, um, it's okay,” she managed to say. “I know it—the move, I mean. I just—I wasn't—I forgot, um … I forgot what came next, and I … I'm sorry, my brain just—stupid brain, I …”

“Don't worry about it,” he assured her. “We can try again, from the top. We've got a couple weeks to figure this thing out. There's no rush.”

Marinette thought that two weeks was nowhere near enough time for her to get used to dancing the tango with Adrien, let alone compete with him against their classmates, but she kept it to herself and let Adrien start their routine over.

“We've got your first bracket!” Tikki announced, waving a piece of paper in her hand as she came over to where Ladybug and Chat Noir had just been about to start their first dance of the night. Plagg joined them moments later.

“Unfortunately, it looks like you guys are gonna have one of the harder preliminary brackets,” Tikki continued. She tucked the paper into the pocket of her suitcoat. “You're up against a pair that's competed before several times representing Papillon.”

“Papillon?” Ladybug and Chat echoed in tandem.

Tikki's eyebrows went up in surprise. “The biggest swing club in Paris,” Plagg explained before she could even open her mouth to answer. He propped his arm on Tikki's shoulder. “It's run by an anonymous benefactor who uses the name Papillon as his alias. He's been sending in competitors for … how long has it been now, Tikki? At least twenty years?”

“Twenty-one,” Tikki supplied.

“Twenty-one years,” Plagg said. “And one of his pairs has won almost every single year. We always go up against them in the finals. Haven't beaten them in the finals since the original Ladybug and Chat Noir retired. Which was about seventeen years ago.” He eyed the two of them. “I'm a bit surprised you haven't heard of Papillon before. They're a lot bigger than we are in the swing dance world.”

“I've heard of them before,” Chat said, shrugging, “but I thought they were some kind of dance school for people who wanted to learn as a hobby. I never really paid much attention to the names of the clubs who sent the winning pairs for the swing competition.”

Plagg looked at Ladybug. “I always got my info about the competition from a friend of mine,” she explained. “And she was more interested in Kwami Dance Club and Ladybug than the other competitors. So I never got names.”

Plagg grinned. “Your friend has good taste.”

“In any case,” Tikki said, drawing their attention back to her, “you're competing against Monsieur Pigeon and his partner Colombe in the first round.”

Monsieur Pigeon?? Ladybug snorted in amusement. Chat Noir seemed to find the name just as funny as she did; he burst out laughing. His laughter set her off, and though she tried her best to stop laughing, she couldn't.

Tikki propped her hands on her hips. “Laugh all you want, but they're good dancers. They've made it up to the semifinals before.”

“Still,” Chat Noir managed to snicker, “Monsieur Pigeon? What's his first name? Homing?” He dissolved into another laughing fit at his own joke.

“Papillon stole our code name trend,” Plagg said by way of explanation. “And Tikki's right. He doesn't sound like much, but he and his partner can be a tough pair to beat. He's been competing for at least the past ten years.”

“An old pigeon,” Ladybug quipped to Chat in a whisper, having stopped laughing enough to at least regain her faculty of speech. He nearly doubled over.

Tikki and Plagg seemed to silently decide they should just wait until Ladybug and Chat had stopped laughing about the name Monsieur Pigeon. Plagg leaned against Tikki, his arm still propped on her shoulder, and she folded her arms across her chest patiently. When both Ladybug and Chat Noir had finally managed to cease their laughing fit, Tikki resumed the conversation. “The thing you're going to have to watch out for with this pair is their aerials. They know a lot of aerials you two haven't learned yet, and they've had years to perfect them. Their big finishing moves are sidecar and the angel.”

Chat waved his hand dismissively. “They don't sound like all that.”

Plagg and Tikki exchanged glances. “Sounds like someone needs a reality check,” Plagg remarked as Tikki took his hands in hers, obviously preparing to dance. He shifted with her into the closed position, and they fell into the rock step with the ease of years of practice. “This is sidecar.”

In the amount of time it would have taken Ladybug to blink, Plagg swept Tikki up off the floor and dipped her to first one side, then the other. She would have thought they were doing the double cherry bomb if it weren't for the fact that Plagg wasn't supporting Tikki the same way at all. She was about to ask Chat if he thought it was all that impressive a move when Plagg swung Tikki straight towards himself and then up, with only his hands on her waist for support. Tikki balanced, upside down and pin-straight, above Plagg for what seemed like an impossibly long amount of time, though it was probably only a few seconds at most. Then she was swung back down onto her feet.

“Holy crap,” Chat said under his breath. Ladybug was inclined to agree.

“Monsieur Pigeon won't put his partner down that soon,” Plagg warned them. “He likes to strut his stuff a little first.”

“I know someone else who used to like to strut his stuff,” Tikki remarked with a sidelong glance Plagg's way. He either didn't hear her or elected to ignore her. She turned her attention on Chat Noir and Ladybug. “Plagg makes it sound like a bad thing, but showing off is actually a really good idea when you're doing aerials. The longer the girl's up in the air, the more impressive it looks. As long as you don't hold her up for too long,” she amended. “Otherwise it can start to seem like you just don't know what to do next.”

“So that's sidecar,” Ladybug said slowly, “but what about the other one you mentioned?” She didn't think anything could possibly top that near-impossible balancing act, but if there was one thing she had learned about swing dance, it was always full of surprises.

“The angel,” Plagg said. Tikki took his hands in hers in obvious anticipation. “It's not as impressive from a brute strength perspective, but it looks cooler.” With that, he and Tikki started the rock step again, and Tikki was spun around only once before being flipped up onto Plagg's shoulder. Although this time she was balanced on her stomach and not upside down, she still remained pin-straight as before.

“That's so cool,” Chat gushed. Rather than intimidated, he looked … excited? Did he forget that this was a move their opponents had mastered?

Plagg looked smugly pleased by the praise. “As an additional option, for added effect …” He spun in a tight circle, keeping Tikki perfectly balanced the whole time. At the end of the turn, Tikki was flipped off his shoulder to land back on the floor. “And that's the angel.”

“Could you teach us that one?” Chat asked eagerly. He seemed to catch himself, and looked over at Ladybug. “If it's all right with you, of course, my lady.”

She smiled. It did look like a fun aerial to learn. And it couldn't hurt to brush up their repertoire before going up against someone with as much aerial experience as Monsieur Pigeon. “I wouldn't mind.”

“You're not going to beat him at his own game,” Plagg said, as if he could read her mind. “In a contest of aerials, he's always got the upper hand.”

Ladybug eyed him curiously. “Then what do you suggest?”

Plagg smirked. “Make him play your game instead.”

In less than twenty-four hours she was going to be competing on a stage in front of half of Paris.

“–ette.”

In less than twenty-four hours she was going to compete for the first time as the new Ladybug.

“–rinette.”

God, there was so much that could go wrong.

“Marinette.”

Fingers snapped in front of her face, jolting Marinette back to reality. She looked up from the spot on the floor she had been staring at fixedly for the past couple minutes and was greeted by the sight of Adrien looking rather worried. “Are you all right?” he asked her. “You seem kind of out of it today.” He paused a moment before amending, “Well, more than usual, that is. Is everything okay?”

Marinette felt heat surge into her cheeks. She'd been so worried about the competiton tomorrow that she'd ignored Adrien. And in the middle of class, too! “I'm fine,” she stammered. “Everything's fine. I was just … thinking. I got a little distracted for a minute. But everything's fine. Um … could you repeat what you said?”

He didn't look disappointed or frustrated with her because she'd stopped listening. As a matter of fact, he was still smiling in that sweet way of his that made her heart pound twice as fast. The boy really was an absolute angel. “I just asked if you would mind staying after school for a while so we could practice our routine some more. Nino mentioned that he and Alya have been practicing outside of class to get their dance down, and, well, I thought it might not be a bad idea to try practicing a little extra ourselves.”

Marinette's brain short-circuited. Staying after school with Adrien? To practice the tango? Together? Alone?

When she didn't respond right away, Adrien's expression fell ever so slightly. “We don't have to,” he added. “I just thought maybe—well, it was just an idea. If you can't stay then that's–”

“It's fine!” Marinette blurted. Adrien seemed taken aback by her vehemence, and she did her best to dial down her enthusiasm by several notches. “I mean—well—I don't mind. It's fine. I can call my parents and let them know I'll be a little late coming home. Um—how long were you thinking?”

Adrien shrugged. “Maybe an hour tops. I don't want to keep you here all day and I have a c—something important coming up tomorrow that I'll need to be well-rested for.”

Marinette hoped the “something important” didn't have anything to do with watching the first preliminary round of the swing dance competition. “An hour should be fine,” she agreed.

“Great!” Adrien beamed. “I'll go ask Miss Bustier about letting us use the room after class gets out, then. I'll be right back!” And he hurried off to do just that.

Marinette sank into the nearest chair. Had she really just agreed to spend an hour alone with Adrien after class? Her brain was sure to turn into total mush!

Then again, was this really a time to be worrying about spending a single hour alone with Adrien? There was a competition coming up tomorrow, one that would have far more consequences than the classroom bracket against Nino and Alya. Whatever happened tomorrow would reflect not only on her, personally, but on the Ladybug persona, Kwami Dance Club, and Tikki and Plagg, too. It had taken years for the club to rise to fame. To represent it poorly now would be to subject it to enormous ridicule. She didn't want that to happen, not to Tikki, who had been so eager and kind to help her come into her own as the new Ladybug, and not to Plagg, who had given her the best partner she could have asked for.

“Marinette, we're all set,” Adrien said, coming back over at a trot. “Miss Bustier said we can have the studio for as long as …” He trailed off as he caught sight of her face. “What's the matter?”

She did her best to school her face into a more neutral expression. Going by the concern in his eyes, she must have looked like it was the end of the world. “It's, um … well, not nothing, but … it—it's nothing important. Just …” She sighed. He wasn't buying it, she could tell. Every word just seemed to increase his concern. She would have to explain while revealing as little as possible. “It's just … competition jitters.” There. That was vague enough. He would assume she meant the classroom competition, not the swing dance one tomorrow. At least, she hoped he would.

Adrien sat down next to her. “You're nervous?”

She attempted to laugh, but it came out too shaky to be convincing. “It's kind of pathetic, isn't it? Getting nervous after so many years of competing …”

“It's not pathetic,” Adrien said with surprising force. Marinette looked at him and almost had to look away again when she saw the intensity in his face. “Marinette, there's nothing wrong with being nervous. It happens to everyone.”

This time, she did look away, focusing on her hands where they were folded in her lap. “But I've been screwing up so much the past couple months. I've never been the best in the class, but this has just been …”

The bell rang to signal the end of class, and their classmates began to filter out of the room. Adrien paid them no heed, except to give a wave of goodbye to Nino. His attention, for the most part, remained on Marinette. “It hasn't been that bad. It can take a while to get used to a new partner, that's all.”

“But two months?” She didn't lift her eyes from her hands. “I've been falling and knocking you over since day one, like a total klutz, and it hasn't been getting any better.”

He paused. “Well, I guess I can't argue with that part, but …”

“But …?” she prompted. She glanced up, curious, and noticed that aside from them, everyone else had left.

They were all alone.

Adrien was fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. “I noticed while I was partnered with Chloé that you danced really well with the other guys. I thought maybe it would be easy for you to adjust to having me as a partner. But, well, I guess that was kind of silly of me, huh? It's a lot to expect of someone, just assuming they'll adjust to dancing with someone they hardly know right away. If either of us is to blame here, then I think it should be me. For expecting too much from you.”

“Not at all!” Marinette protested. “That's not—you're not asking too much! You're right, that I should have been able to adjust sooner. It's not your fault that I haven't been able to dance the way I should be able to.”

He smiled, but it wasn't his usual angelic smile. It was a bashful, half-relieved and half-apologetic smile, the likes of which she had never expected to see on Adrien Agreste, let alone at a time like this. “You're too kind, Marinette. I guess that's probably why I wanted to project my expectations onto you so much.” He stood up, twisting so he was still facing her. “I'm sorry. For expecting too much, and for not noticing sooner that you were nervous. We'll take things slower, okay? As much as you need.”

She bit her lip. “And if I still screw up?”

“If we've done our best, then I won't have any regrets,” he answered resolutely. “No one can ask any more of you than your best.” He offered his hand. “Ready to practice?”

Smiling, and somehow feeling like a huge weight had just been removed from her shoulders, Marinette took his hand.

#drabble #miraculous ladybug #AU #ladynoir #otp #adrinette #cheesecake #miraculous fanfic #shall we dance?

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junker-town · 7 years

Text

Meet the people behind a growing NFL boycott

‘Being black is bigger than watching football’

Before the regulars started to flood the pub and libations were passed around, a man stood behind the bar and stared at CNN. By 7 p.m. on this August night he was in a media-created daze. To him, he was alone. Just Kenny Johnson and the tube.

Johnson, the owner of the Bureau Bar in Chicago’s South Loop, was watching the dust settle at America’s latest football protest. Commentators spoke of the thousands who gathered on a Manhattan street, protesting the alleged blackballing of Colin Kaepernick by NFL teams.

Johnson had wondered for weeks what he could do to stand with Kaepernick. He wanted to clearly show his bars — he also owns Velvet Lounge nearby in the South Loop — would not support a league that so obviously didn’t care for the black people he employed or the values he held.

He decided on a boycott. Johnson got a graphic made that night. Johnson slapped some crude red bars across the league’s symbol to symbolize his dissent. It went up on Instagram, then Facebook. His two bars, a pebble's throw from Soldier Field, in the heart of Chicago, wouldn’t show the game. Johnson thought it was a success that Wednesday. Until the phones starting ringing.

“Shit, Thursday morning everybody started calling,” he said. “We’ve gotten a lot of hate. People bitching and screaming: ‘You ain’t shit.’ ‘Your bar ain’t shit.’ ‘You’re going to lose a lot of business.’ ‘We’re going to buy your bar when you’re done.’ ‘You should keep politics out of your bar business.’”

Johnson lets out an awkward laugh.

“Are we going to take a hit? Yeah, we’ll take a hit,” Johnson said. “But it’s not about the money we could make, it’s about what’s right and what’s wrong.”

This is a common refrain from people who’ve joined Johnson’s ranks. Heading into Year 2 of national protests in the NFL, these people have come together to attack the league for Kaepernick’s continued unemployment and in support of athletes continuing his stand.

The continued boycotting from Chicago to Brooklyn to Huntsville, Ala., is a response to the belief the NFL is ignoring a part of its audience and what they care about. For Johnson, that’s the awareness Kaepernick has brought to issues facing black America, whether it’s police brutality or racial injustice.

The boycotts ask: How can a league sell entertainment to black audiences, when the black men playing in it aren’t truly allowed to have a voice?

“The fact that they’re not letting him do his job for what he stood up for is more important for us,” Johnson said. “I can’t promote NFL football when they don’t want to hire a qualified African-American that protested something he believes in. Why would I try to drive business my way off of you when you don’t respect what this guy is doing.”

Kirby Lee-USA TODAY Sports

One of the first times this movement caught national eyes was when Gerald Griggs, the vice president of Atlanta’s NAACP, made a bold declaration.

“There will be no football in the state of Georgia if Colin Kaepernick is not on a training camp roster and given an opportunity to pursue his career,” Griggs said in an August press conference. "This is not a simple request. This is a statement. This is a demand.”

Spurned by the events in Charlottesville, Griggs saw an America that was being forced to reckon with itself. He saw an America, one that black citizens have seen and experienced for decades, being questioned.

Griggs specifically saw it in football. The Kaepernick Effect was spreading even with his unemployment: Players, black and white, were still taking measures to fight for what Kaepernick knelt for.

To Griggs, it gave him a moment to call for boycotting the league. The NFL, he said, is at an impasse with its fans. Until that’s resolved, protests involving boycotting are just the beginning.

“The NFL is a national pastime. If they truly want to embrace unity and foster cohesiveness, they need to understand there are two distinct sides of this conversation and both have to be addressed,” Griggs said.

Moments like his led to others. A #NoKaepernickNoNFL petition on Change.org started by 32-year-old Vic Oyedeji has grabbed more than 175,000 signatures to boycott the league. Huntsville pastor Debleaire Snell’s NFL Black0ut group reported over 7 million have viewed their videos and social postings about blacking out the league.

Gloria Blake, an owner of Brooklyn Blew Smoke, a popular cigar lounge, is turning her space into a forum for conversations on race and protest instead of hosting NFL games. Najee Ali, a Los Angeles activist, is doing non-violent actions with the National Action Network in front of Chargers and Rams games.

Even if Kaepernick doesn’t become employed, the argument goes, the quarterback can’t become a football exile for speaking out about issues people of color face daily as Americans.

“Freedom of expression is at stake,” Snell said. “As owners and GMs discuss this, they talk about it as an ancillary issue. No, this is an American issue. It’s not a side issue. It’s the issue facing African-Americans in this generation.”

Blake said: “It’s almost as if it’s asking us to separate who we are and what we believe. There’s no right way of doing this. There’s no violence. There’s no disrespect. The reality we have to expect as a people is that as long as we are willing to resist, it’s going to be considered inappropriate.”

Griggs laid it out differently. It’s not just about unemployment. It’s also about discrimination. And the players still employed by the league, Griggs said, need to consider if football is more important than standing for what’s right.

“They need to think about what their legacy is going to be and where they stood in the new Civil Rights Movement,” Griggs said. “It’s time to send a message and the message is: We will have equality now. Not later. If it needs to be Sunday evening when the world is watching, so be it.”

Photo by Drew Angerer/Getty Images

Protest and boycott have threatened professional football in this country before. In 1965, just a year after the Civil Rights Act had de-segregated seating at the Sugar Bowl, black players came to New Orleans for the AFL All-Star Game. The AFL assured players nothing would be amiss.

Then black players ended up stranded at airports. By the time they got to the city, they were refused cab service. If they acquired rides, cabbies dropped them off miles from their hotels. Some were refused admittance to clubs and restaurants. Two dozen black players threatened to walk and the league moved the game to Houston.

Before the AFL boycott, fans had picketed and boycotted the NFL because Washington’s football team had refused to sign a black player. It became so contentious that Secretary of the Interior Stewart Udall refused to go to games until the NAACP stopped picketing.

Knowing the league has experienced these disputes before, Snell, the Alabaman pastor, finds it odd more and more conservative or right-leaning voices think football should be apolitical. His argument is: It never was.

“There’s always been a merger between sports and politics in the history of the United States,” Snell said. “We sometimes paint this as a narrative that protesting is about the flag or veterans. The truth is: [Kaepernick] knelt, specifically, to bring attention to the fact that there is a chasm between our ideals as a society and our practice as a society.”

The wrath from anonymously quoted team personnel and owners at fan forums rebuking protest in their league is another issue boycotters are hoping to address. As outlined in a policy proposition by the United We Stand Coalition after their New York rally, protesters and boycotters want to create an atmosphere in the league where players aren’t punished for protest.

Oyedeji, the man who started the viral petition to blackout the league, said if players continued to get shunned by owners for kneeling for black or brown lives, that’s a direct insult to their stance.

“If you keep seeing stories of folks protesting, if we keep talking about it, something will have to give,” he said. “Either they sign Kaepernick or they protect the players from punishment if they want to partake in social activism. The NFL has to do something.”

Ali, the Los Angeles organizer, offered a common phrase about the NFL in this climate.

"The NFL is a form of the modern-day plantation," Ali said. "They're treating Kaepernick like a runaway slave, making him an example so other players get the message: Do not get too uppity or we will blackball you.”

Jayne Kamin-Oncea-USA TODAY Sports

It’s hard to measure if these boycotts or protests will do anything to affect the behemoth the NFL has become, whether in sales, ratings or by forcing the league to have to comment.

An NFL spokesperson said in August the league was looking to set up meetings with groups that have reached out. Despite these offers, which protesting groups say have been non-committal on the league’s part, Oyedeji’s problem with the NFL stems from their alienation of paying customers.

Still, like many, he didn’t have an answer to what happens next.

“When is this gonna end? I don’t know. I’m just like you, I’m staying tuned to see what happens,” he said. “These protests brought light to the fact that many people are willing to not watch the games. So, at least, I’m happy.”

Snell and his collection of pastors plan to continue an action program that calls for abstaining from viewing the league, buying merchandise, and playing fantasy football. Every morning at 6 a.m. they’re going to kneel and pray for their communities, mimicking Kaepernick. On Sundays before service, they plan to take time to mentor black boys and girls in their church’s communities.

The need to boycott the league has never been stronger, Snell said.

“We need to send a resounding message that says if the NFL is going to gloss over to issues germane to this fan base, they need to know we can organize and leverage our dollars to influence and affect change,” he said. “It’s a gross miscalculation to assume our loyalties are absolute. Certain rights can’t be trespassed on without ramifications.”

In a gentrifying Brooklyn, the boycotts make sense to Blake, the cigar lounge owner. Like Johnson, she’s not concerned about the loss of business because of her desire not to show football. She’s willing to make sacrifices if it means inching closer to equality.

All of this comes with risk. She understands that. Her stable business could be hurt, just as Johnson’s bars in Chicago might. Yet, she couldn’t ignore her customers’ calls for action, she said. She felt compelled to do whatever was in her power.

Boycotting the NFL is only one small part of the fight for racial justice. In a decade peppered with protest and calls for black lives to matter, Blake understands she is only a small part of this movement. It’s essential to her, though, that she stands on the right side of history. Because, to be quiet during a time of turmoil, is to be complicit in the continued oppression she hopes to disrupt.

“There’s a revelation of the state of this country that has come to a head and needs to be addressed. We can’t keep turning our back to the call for basic human rights,” she said.

“At this moment, being black is bigger than watching football. I can say that without hesitation.”

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