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emachinescat · 3 years

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Title: Of Concussions and Incorrigible Cons | Fandom: Psych

Summary: AU of the pilot episode. After being reprimanded by the interim chief, Head Detective Carlton Lassiter bites off more than he can possibly chew after attempting to apologize to a concussed Spencer for the less than gentle arrest at the end of the McCallum case. Spoilers for "Domestic Pilot." Part 1 of my whumpy episodic AU series, "AU that Glitters."

Words: 1,951

TW: None

AO3 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Episode AU: s01e01: Domestic Pilot, Whump

Year Published: 2017

Full story here or on AO3!

Head Detective Carlton Lassiter stood in front of the interim chief's door, fist poised to knock and foot tapping an anxious rhythm on the floor. Vick had been rather short with him when she'd asked him to come to her office as soon as the paperwork for the McCallum case had been taken care of. It wasn't the "I'm busy, so make it quick" kind of short, either… she was agitated about something.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

Her voice rang out from inside, dead serious as could be. Yeah, she was pissed about something.

He entered, and opted for the ignorant approach, which was just as well, because he really had no idea what this was about. After all, he'd already been given a stern-talking to about inter-department romance and Lucinda was in the process of being transferred. A little swell of fury rose at the thought of the man – the so-called "psychic" who had so carelessly ruined one of the only positive things he had going for him.

"Detective Lassiter. Please sit."

He sat stiffly in the proffered chair, refusing to let the cushy trappings lull him into a false sense of security. He maintained eye contact with the chief, letting her know that he was completely comfortable in the situation that he found himself in, and that he had nothing to hide. Never mind the fact that he wasn't all that comfortable with the cloak and dagger business, being left in the dark about why he was here in the first place. "Chief. What can I do for you?"

Vick's eyes may have softened the tiniest bit at his cordial greeting, but she still did not look like a happy camper.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Detective," she said bluntly. "This could have turned out much worse. As it is, I am going to have to give you an informal reprimand and warn you to be very careful in the future."

Lassiter blinked. "Uh, Chief… What…?"

"Detective, you cannot be physically aggressive toward civilians who are in your custody, unless they are resisting arrest or are posing a threat to you or others around you."

Still trying to work through the confusion, Lassiter was both offended and relieved that there had been a mistake like this, that Vick actually thought that he'd attack a non-resisting civilian. Whatever she'd heard, it was all a big mix up. "Chief, let me assure you that I would never—"

"Shawn Spencer. McCallum residence. Yesterday afternoon. Ring any bells?"

Lassiter blanched. "Spencer hardly counts as a civilian. He's a hindrance to real police work, a distraction, and at the time, he was trespassing. I had to take him in." He left the bitter, At least, until he solved my damn case, left unspoken.

"Be that as it may, Detective, your shoving him head-first into the frame of the car was a bit overboard, don't you think?"

Wait, this was what this was about? Seriously?

"He was resisting arrest, Chief. He was… flailing and pretending to have 'visions' and acting like a crazy person!"

A delicate but ferocious eyebrow lifted. "Not when you shoved him into the car. And may I remind you, he did solve the case?"

"Did he tell you this? That little…"

"Detective!" the chief cut him off before he could say anything to get himself into any more trouble, which, although he didn't appreciate at the time, he was begrudgingly thankful for after the fact. "Mr. Spencer didn't tell me anything. I was there, remember? I saw the whole thing… whatever it was."

Oh. Right. Damn that Spencer for getting into his head like this!

"He's fine, Chief," Lassiter responded, much more calmly this time. "Don't let him take advantage of you. This country is crawling with people faking injuries just to get a few thousand dollars from a lawsuit."

"I told you, Mr. Spencer said nothing to me. His father, on the other hand, called me this morning in a rage. Thankfully, I was able to calm him down and help him to see reason, but it wasn't easy."

"So he went and told his daddy that he got a boo-boo at the crime scene?" Lassiter couldn't keep the disgusted contempt out of his voice this time. "I thought they hated each other, anyway?"

"They have a… complicated relationship, and it really isn't our place to bring that under speculation. However…" She sighed. "It is my job to make sure that my officers are not allowing their emotions or anger, no matter how warranted said anger might be, to get the better of them. Especially after what Henry told me this morning. Apparently, Mr. Guster had to take Shawn to the emergency room last night after his headache peaked and he lost consciousness briefly. Mr. Spencer is being treated for a concussion, Detective, and that is why we're having this talk."

"Oh." Lassiter wasn't sure what to say beyond that, but he slapped away the little niggle of guilt that tried to burrow into him at the news. He hadn't meant to hurt Spencer, certainly not that badly. The man was being difficult, had lost Lassiter his girlfriend, his respect… had mocked him by acting like an idiot and still managing to solve the case first…

"Shawn himself is not going to press charges or file a report, though I was obligated to contact him about the matter. He said – and these are his words – that 'Mr. Grumpy Detective-Face is emotionally stunted and is just trying to express how much he likes me in the only way he knows how.'" Vick looked marginally amused as she read Spencer's response off the sheet in front of her. A muscle in Lassiter's neck twitched. "Now, those exact words could be because of the concussion…"

Lassiter fought the urge to roll his eyes. "They're not, Chief. Trust me."

Now appearing to be fighting a smile, the chief said, "Consider this your unofficial reprimand and warning to control your irritation when you are faced with a particularly difficult witness… or consultant. Because once he is feeling better, I do believe the department will be calling on Mr. Spencer again."

This time, Lassiter couldn't stop the eye roll. Or the groan. Vick smiled. "You're dismissed, Detective."

"Yes, ma—uh, I mean, Chief."

***

Shawn was woken when the doorbell rang, the sound slicing through his aching head like a butter knife through steak... or however that saying went. Without bothering to get up from where he was sprawled on the couch, he called out, "It's open."

Damn, concussions sucked. It was bad enough that Gus had practically dragged him to the hospital after he'd had some sort of dizzy spell last night, but then he'd called his dad to boot? Was this now Gus with his mom for additional parental torture? Not that he would mind seeing his mom… but he was so over worried hovering. Gus played the part of a worried mother exceptionally well, and Shawn couldn't handle two of them… Which was made irrelevant when the door opened to reveal not his mother, but…

"Detective Lassiter?"

Lassiter stepped into Shawn's apartment, keen blue eyes taking the coffee table littered with empty pudding cups, icepacks, water bottles, and prescription bottles. "You just leave your front door unlocked for anyone to come waltzing in? You're just begging to be robbed." Upon taking another look around at the untidy living space, his lip curled and he added, "Or maybe not."

Shawn struggled to sit up past the monkey playing cymbals in his head. "Your contempt for my apartment aside, what are you doing here?"

The detective hesitated. "I was just in the neighborhood and I…" Shawn watched knowingly as the detective's gaze shifted to the rather impressive bruise on his head.

"You wanted to check on me? Oh, Detective, you shouldn't have!"

"I didn't," growled Lassiter. He paused. "This was a mistake. I'll just—"

"Wait!" Shawn shifted, patting the sofa seat beside him. "Come in. Sit down. Rest your rumpus. Put your feet up. Slow your roll. Chillax your—"

With an irritated grunt, the detective passed the threshold and sat in the chair farthest away from Shawn. "Look. I didn't exactly… yesterday, when I…"

"I know, I know. You were just expressing your love for me in the only way you know how, like that little boy in school who pulls the little girl's pigtails because he thinks she's cute."

"Absolutely not."

"Okay, you got me—" Shawn winced as a particularly painful wave shot through his poor, abused noggin. "I was that kid in school. Her name was Melinda, and she had the cutest, bounciest set of—"

"Dear Lord, please stop talking."

"I was going to say pigtails, dude. Mind. Gutter. Get it out."

"This is a monumental waste of my time," the detective spat, standing up so abruptly it almost gave Shawn vertigo… Or wait, he might have already had vertigo, wasn't that a concussion symptom ? And what was vertigo, anyway? Besides an Alfred Hitchcock flick?

Past the pounding in his skull, Shawn heard footsteps stomping away, toward the door. Despite the telltale ringing in his ears, Shawn scrabbled to his feet, ignoring the dark spots dancing wildly in front of his eyes. His pulse hammered, his breath felt short and stunted, and the dizziness spiked. He knew what was going to happen seconds before it did. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

***

When the world swam back into focus, Shawn was surprised to find that he was back on the couch, not in a heap on the floor. He noticed blearily that his hands tingled like he'd been sitting on them for a couple of weeks, and his ears were still ringing like a high school band had paraded between them and accidentally left the triangle player behind. With a groan against the horrible pounding that had overtaken his skull – the procession of drummers must've gotten left behind, too – he rolled over to see Head Detective Carlton Lassiter kneeling next to the couch.

"You passed out," the detective stated helpfully.

"I did not," Shawn argued, mostly out of obligatory need to irritate whoever was in his general vicinity. "I fell asleep, suddenly and quickly, in a very manly and not wimpy way."

"Sure you did. Just be glad I got to you before you hit the ground. You would have a matching bruise on the other side of your head."

Shawn feigned shock. "So you dashed to my side, caught me before I hit the ground, gently placed me on the sofa, and lingered over my prone body until you knew I wasn't on death's door? Detective, I'm touched."

Lassiter half-sneered, half-smirked. "You were only out for a handful of seconds. I was hoping you'd stay out of it long enough for me to escape, but of course you had to ruin that plan, too."

Shawn winced, only partly out of pain. "Look, man, I'm sorry about your girlfriend. I just—"

The detective stood hastily, popping up from the ground like a Jack-in-the-Box with a strong Irish hairline and lots of pent-up aggression. "We don't talk about that. Ever."

Shawn lifted both hands up in mock surrender. Lassiter's face softened, just the tiniest, miniscule bit. "You're okay, though? Do I need to call your father or someone—?"

"No! I would rather you leave me here to die."

Lassiter shrugged. "Works for me." He strode for the door.

Shawn hesitated, licked his lips, and then offered, "Detective? Thanks."

"Just take it easy," the detective advised.

It was as close to an apology as Shawn was going to get, and, though Shawn might not have shown it through his next words, he did in fact appreciate it.

"Lassie," Shawn said, testing out the new nickname he'd been considering since he'd met the detective. He watched with glee as the man bristled in agitation.

"What?" the detective ground out through gritted teeth.

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

The head detective had fled the apartment and slammed the door before Shawn could blink. Shawn settled back into the couch cushions and tried to will his head to stop raging against him. Or at least a plain but not drop-dead-ugly working tolerance, he amended in his head, before he drifted off to sleep.

#psych #shawn spencer #carlton lassiter #karen vick #fanfiction #fic rec #psych fanfic #episode au #friendship sort of #hurt/comfort #also sort of #usa psych #emcatwrites

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lycorogue · 4 years

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Love Square Fluff Week: Part 3 - Trust

A bit flipped here, AAAAAND I should be on day 5 or 6 of @lovesquarefluffweek 2020 by now, but... *shrug *

Surprise surprise... I didn't think of anything until about 9pm, so once again I didn't publish anything until after 2am. UPDATE (2/12/20): The story has now been edited. Sorry if you read it originally with the typos.

Also... yeah... I know... kinda angsty again. I don't know why writing pure fluff has been so hard for me this week. I've done it in the past. I've written fanfics so fluffy and pure I warned readers that they might need to set up dentist appointments to make sure their teeth didn't rot. Something about this week though, man.... This "chapter" is the first one I officially tied to the other two, and, much like with my last short, this could have been both the Day 2 prompt of 'Trust' and the Day 5 prompt of 'Comfort'. For this go, I was mostly focusing on 'Trust' so I still need to write up something specifically focused on 'Comfort', despite it being an underlying theme throughout this series of one-shots.

Also, I rarely write in third-person omniscient (usually sticking to either first-person or third-limited), so if I'm head-hopping in this, please let me know.

Just like the other two “chapters” of this, you can either read this story below the break, or you can check it out on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

I Have Something To Confess

Summary: Now that she's the Guardian of the Miraculous, Ladybug has a lot to confess.

Word Count: 2844 Rating: General Audience Spoilers: Desperada, Feast, Chat Blanc, and Miracle Queen spoilers (which you’d realize after reading that summary... whoops) Love Square Side: LadyNoir Romance Level: Sweet Friendship

The apartment remained dark; still vacant. Ladybug wasn't sure if she preferred that to someone else living there. Someone else making it theirs. Making it no longer his.

“Evening, M'lady.” Chat Noir landed beside Ladybug on the building across from the empty apartment. “I have to say, I wasn't expecting a late-night meet-up. What's up? What are we doing here?”

“Chat Noir,” Ladybug's voice was soft; solemn. “You know I've hated keeping secrets from you, right?”

“Yeah. Of course I do. What's going on?” He inched closer, but kept his hands to his sides, unsure what kind of comfort she would need yet.

“I'm the Guardian of the Miraculous now, and so many secrets have already been revealed to you, like who the other Miraculous holders were. But, I wasn't the one who got to let you know that, and neither did Master Fu. You had to find out because of Hawkmoth, and I hate that. I should have told you, or Master Fu.”

“It's okay, Ladybug. I have to admit I hated that you were trusted enough to know, but I wasn't. I also hated that you were able to pass out Miraculouses, but I couldn't choose a hero. But I get it. I understand why. I'm not mad at you, or at Master Fu.” This time he rested his hands on her shoulders, squaring her in front of him so she could see how sincere he was.

"Even so." She turned, and Chat Noir reluctantly let go so she could. "There should only be one secret between us, and that's who we really are. No others. Hawkmoth still managed to find out who the other holders were even when Master Fu and I were the only ones who knew, and he didn't even learn from either of us. So, from now on, you're going to know too. I promise."

“Thank you. That means so much to me, but-” Chat Noir looked around him. It wasn't often that they fought in this particular part of Paris, and there wasn't a monument nearby. There didn't seem to be anything terribly significant about the spot, but it also wasn't terribly secluded. “Why did you ask me here? This address?”

Ladybug pointed across the street, to the empty apartment. “You see the one that's dark?”

“Yeah. The one with the flower box?”

Ladybug didn't even notice that. She was so focused on what was missing from the inside of the apartment, she didn't even see the flowers still growing on the small balcony outside the living room windows. They were a bit wild since no one had properly cared for them for nearly a month now, but still, they grew. They had lived on even without a guiding hand. She suddenly had a touch more faith that she could do the same.

“That apartment used to be Master Fu's.”

Chat Noir did a double take. Master Fu had lived there. That was where the Guardian of the Miraculous was. That apartment was where Ladybug would disappear to in the middle of their battles in order to bring a new hero into their fold. Suddenly, the apartment felt so surprisingly close to his own home.

“You knew where he lived?”

Ladybug nodded. “I'm sorry we never told you. It wasn't fair.”

“The whole time?”

“What? No!” Ladybug flailed her arms around, crossing them wildly. “No no no. Not the whole time. I didn't even know there was a Guardian at first. I was just as clueless as you when I first got my Miraculous. No, I only found out after Volpina attacked.”

“Still.” Chat Noir crouched down, perched like a cat as he stared across at Master Fu's former apartment.

“I know.” Ladybug sat beside him, her fingers digging into the cement roof ledge. “It was still a long time that I knew and you didn't.”

“I didn't even know there was such a thing as a Guardian of the Miraculous until Syren.”

“I know, and I'm so sorry.”

“Why did Master Fu bring you to his home, but not me?” Chat Noir glanced over, his eyes wide, sad, and pleading.

Ladybug gently squeezed his forearm. “If it's any consolation, he didn't bring me to his home. My kwami did.”

“But why? My kwami never had me come here to meet Master Fu. In fact, I only officially met him when he came to my house.”

“He- he came to your house? How? Wouldn't that have given himself away?”

Chat Noir blinked. He didn't realize he had a secret from Ladybug (aside from the identity thing).

“I- I can't really say how. Secret identity stuff, but no one I live with seems to have questioned it.”

Ladybug nodded. “Master Fu probably knew what he was doing. I'm glad he did finally talk with you, but I'm sad that you two weren't able to interact more.” Refocusing on the apartment, she tried to figure out what exactly she could tell Chat Noir without potentially giving him a clue as to who she was.

“As for why my kwami brought me here, there is this book. A spell book. It explains the Miraculous and the other powers they each possess: the transformations, as well as how our normal powers could evolve once we're stronger.”

“A- a book? About the Miraculous?” Chat Noir grew pale. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what book Ladybug was talking about.

“It is written in a language that only Guardians can read, so my kwami couldn't decipher it. She knew that Master Fu would want the book back, though, so when I found it she told me where to find him.”

Plagg had seen the book. He knew that Adrien was carrying it around all day. He never once mentioned Master Fu or even that there was a Guardian that was looking for it.

Maybe it wasn't the same book. Maybe there was another one that had pictures of superheroes and written in a language he didn't recognize. He didn't know that many languages; it was possible.

“You said you found the book?”

Ladybug nodded. “In a trash can in the Place des Vosges. I- I found it when I went there to yell at Lila for lying on the Ladyblog about knowing me. That must have been how she was able to have the Fox pendent replicated.”

Lila? That's why Adrien didn't have the book when he went home that day? She had taken it? He wanted to believe that Ladybug was mistaken, but it did add up, and Lila proved herself untrustworthy on multiple occasions. Still, his father got the book back, didn't he? One of Adrien's classmates returned it, didn't they? Was that Lila? Why would Ladybug give it back to her to return? Did she force her to? Why did his father get the book back in the first place, didn't Master Fu need it?

“Chat Noir? Are you okay?” Ladybug began rubbing his back, bringing him back to present. “I know, this is a lot, isn't it?”

He nodded. “So, do- do you have this book now? Do you know how to read it?”

“Well, I sort of do.” Ladybug turned back to the apartment building across the street. “For reasons I can't really talk about because, ya know, secret identities and all that, the book was returned to the man who had it before Lila: Gabriel Agreste. That was why he became The Collector; he was mad that the last gift his wife gave him went missing: the book.”

Chat Noir sank; his shoulders felt heavy. It was the same book. Nothing made sense anymore. More questions flooded his mind.

“Wait. Is that why you thought that he could be Hawkmoth? Because he had a book about the Miraculous?”

Ladybug nodded. “Plus, you have to admit there was a lot of other circumstantial evidence that would have fit. I'm glad I was wrong, but it would have also been nice to have found Hawkmoth and finally stopped him.” She laid back across the rooftop, counting off the dozen stars that were bright enough to cut through the light pollution. “Master Fu took pictures of the pages before we returned the book, and then he translated the digital copy. I guess after we defeated Feast, and Master Fu told me he wanted to train me to be the next Guardian, he must have made a duplicate of his digital copy of the spell book. I have that, and a way to translate it. I have to be careful that no kwami sees it though. It's super important that they never learn how to read the book or discover its contents.”

“It is? Still? I thought there were no more secrets now.”

Ladybug sat back up so she could meet Chat Noir's eyes. “We have to keep this one. The book explains everything, including the ingredients for the power-up potions. What if a kwami finds that out? What if Hawkmoth's or Mayura's kwamis knew how to make the potions? It may not be a concern for our kwamis now, but what if some future Ladybug or Chat Noir gets corrupted and orders their kwami to tell them that info? What if we let any of the other kwamis find out, and then Hawkmoth captures them?”

“You always have a reason for your secrets.” There was a bitterness in Chat Noir's voice.

She placed a hand on Chat Noir's shoulder; it was stiff. “I'm sorry. I really am, but this is for everyone's safety; now and in the future. Please understand. I'm telling you because I wanted to show you the spell book. I wanted you to know what I do in case something comes up and I can't tell you the information when you need it. We're partners, Chat Noir, and I want us to be more equal in that partnership, but you need to understand how important certain secrets are.”

Chat Noir scanned her face, taking in all of her sincerity. He rested his hand on top of hers, and gave it a little squeeze. “Nah, I get it. I do. I'm sorry I'm acting like this. You don't like lies, and I don't like being left out – or for others to be left out. I've had too much of that in my life. But you're right. Some secrets are important to keep.”

“Thank you, Chat Noir.”

Ladybug then took her yo-yo off her hip, and swiped a finger up the side like she were about to capture an akuma. The yo-yo opened up into a transdimensional pocket; a glowing endless pouch. Reaching in, she pulled out a flash drive. "Here. This is your copy of the spell book. Make sure no one can find it."

“Thank you, Ladybug. I'll keep it safe. I promise.”

“I know you will.”

Chat Noir accepted the drive, and tucked it inside one of his zipper pockets.

“There's something else. You saw Nino Lahiffe with the other Miraculous holders, but he wasn't transformed.”

“He's Carapace, isn't he?”

Ladybug nodded. “I had a feeling you were able to figure it out, but I wanted to make sure: no more secrets... aside from the one we need to keep from each other.”

“Thank you, Ladybug.”

“Oh! Also-” This last secret pained her the most to tell. It was one thing when only she and Master Fu knew who a Miraculous holder was, but to confess a civilian knew? “About Viperion.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I'm sure you noticed that he wasn't Adrien Agreste after all. His name is Luka. I tried to give the Snake bracelet to Adrien, but- but he- I never realized it because of how Second Chance works, but he told me that he tried being the Snake superhero Aspik nearly twenty-five-thousand times. We kept failing as a team, and he'd reset time to try again, and it never worked. He gave up the Miraculous.” Ladybug winced. She was dreading the next part.

"Luka ran up to check to see if we had found Adrien," she continued, "and I needed to find someone to wield the Miraculous. I hadn't learned about merging two powers yet, so I thought neither you nor I could use Second Chance. It was actually Adrien who suggested I give the Miraculous to Luka. He was the one who chose, not me, and he knew who Viperion was. I mean- he went to go hide before I officially handed the bracelet to Luka, and so it's possible he thinks Luka also failed or that I didn't listen to him and Viperion is someone else entirely, but that's not the kind of person Adrien is. He chose well. He saw exactly who we needed that day, and I don't think we would have been able to defeat Desperada if Adrien hadn't picked Luka to help.”

Chat Noir gawked at Ladybug, so she took his hands in hers.

“I am so so sorry, Chat Noir. It was wrong for me to let a civilian help me choose a Miraculous holder instead of you. I should have tracked you down and talked to you instead. And to let Adrien know who – besides Chloe, of course – had a Miraculous? It's inexcusable, and I hope you can forgive me. But that's it. That's all of the secrets I have left between us.”

“Aside from the obvious.”

“Yes. Aside from that. So, please, could you forgive me?” Ladybug squeezed his hands tighter, pleadingly.

Chat Noir remembered what it felt like, when Ladybug pulled him – well, Adrien him - into that tight hug on his sofa the night he was missing his mother terribly. He felt that weight lift off him again; that same sense of relief.

Ladybug looked close to tears, probably scared to have ruined their partnership when she handed him – Adrien him – the Snake bracelet, and let him choose who should wield it instead. It was a very un-Ladybug-like thing to do, but he was just so elated that she valued Adrien that much that he didn't think much of it.

Clearly Ladybug thought often of that moment, and she desperately needed the same relief she had given Adrien just a week before. He tugged gently on her hands, and pulled her into a hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, and let his head slowly sink into her hair, nuzzling her a little with his cheek.

“It's okay, Ladybug. I get it. I'm not mad, and if you could trust Adrien, then I will too. I'll even take special care to watch over him to make sure Hawkmoth can't get to him, okay?”

“You don't have to-”

“No. It's okay. You are the Guardian of the Miraculous. Let me be the Guardian of Adrien Agreste.” Chat Noir felt bad about manipulating her like this, especially when she truly did have so much extra piled on her plate now, and all he was promising to take off it was to watch his own back.

Meanwhile, Ladybug wondered if this was how Chat Noir found out who she was and became Chat Blanc. She wasn't sure how far into the future it truly was that he was akumatized, just that it all started when Adrien discovered who she was. If the Chat Noir of that timeline also watched over Adrien, and found out that way....

It didn't matter. Adrien didn't know who she was, so Chat Noir was safe. She held him tight, praying that he'd forgive her this one final secret between them.

“Thank you, Chat Noir. Thank you for having so much faith in me, and for forgiving me so easily.”

“There's nothing to forgive, Bugaboo. It means a lot to me that you told me all of this.” Chat Noir wished he had some crepe paper and pipe cleaner on him so he could make Ladybug a flower, just as he had done for Marinette over the weekend. Didn't matter. Ladybug never liked accepting flowers from him anyway. So instead he just held her for as long as she needed in order to know that he wasn't going to abandon her.

They were partners, and she was his lady. Nothing would ever change those two facts in his heart.

Ladybug lingered in Chat Noir's arms. She didn't want to lead him on, but it felt too nice to push him away, or to let go of him. He wasn't mad. He understood, all of it, and he accepted it as well. She couldn't have asked for a better partner.

With one last burst of strength, she tenderly squeezed him close to her, breathing in his warmth and compassion. She never before noticed how familiar he smelled. If only she could peg how she knew that scent.

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

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thestuckylibrary · 7 years

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Is it bad that I sorta want Hydra cap? Obviously not cap willingly being apart of it but maybe similar in a way that Clint was brainwashed?

If what marvel was doing was akin to Clint being brainwashed, with a scene where Steve was forcibly mentally overwhelmed via comic book science it would be a different matter, but that’s not what marvel’s doing. What they are doing is monstrous, they are blatantly using Nazi imagery, influences from Nazi propaganda and a complete disregard for everything Cap is meant to be to create a narrative where fascism is the new exciting thing and our hero is and has always been our oppressor. This isn’t darkfic published under heavy warnings on AO3 intended as an exploration of character and morality under stress, Hydra Cap is intended as a deeply shocking and deliberate corruption of a character with incredible meaning to the oppressed, to be sold as the official byline of an influential company. More than that, Marvel is saying one of their historically most moral and justice loving characters is and has always been a Nazi. They have removed a powerful symbol of allyship and told us he was never with us foolish oppressed people anyways. They have made a character steeped in Jewish culture into a Nazi. They have explicitly shown Hydra Cap as “righteous” holding Mjolnir, thats literally saying Nazism is just and explicitly glorifying it. Its telling any white supremacist and racist and Nazi that they are righteous. That is incredibly, monumentally disgusting and inexcusable.

The fact that they have also made Magneto, a holocaust survivor into a Hydra operative is evil. It’s part of an effort to move Hyrda away from it’s alignment to Nazism, which honestly just makes Nazi ideology even more appealing to white supremacists. While they try and distance Hydra from Nazis, they also have really doubled down on their use of Nazi imagery, ideology and rhetoric in Secret Empire. I mean they have Inhumans being put in camps and operatives hail-ing all over the place for fucks sake, marvel it’s not subtle. By attempting to remove the association with Nazis, Marvel is making the ideals of Nazism something exciting, entertaining and appealing to a larger audience. It’s much easier to be a Nazi when you don’t consider yourself one and Captain America is backing you up.

If marvel was presenting Steve as having been brainwashed and his unwilling support of Nazism as a horrifying thing, I still wouldn’t be thrilled, but i wouldn’t be angry and afraid the way Hydra Cap makes me. Marvel is empowering real life Nazis through this storyline, and I can’t think of anything more incredibly monstrous and sinister.

Don’t support it. Ignoring Secret Emipre’s connection to the rise of fascism in the real world is reckless and ignorant at best.

@marvelentertainment and @nickspencerly have ignored the Jewish roots of the characters they are dealing with with cries of “it’s just fiction, don’t take it so seriously” and “good you’re angry, that means I am successful”. (i am paraphrasing here, their irl replies are much nastier) while either ignoring or revelling in the strong negative effect their explicit support of fascism has.

So Hyrda Cap in fic, before it was canon, with Steve as an unwilling participant is a whole different beast than the canon, loaded with Nazi rhetoric Hydra Cap. I’m not sure it can anymore be considered just to give any support to any form of Hydra Cap, even in fic, even in your scenario.

Real life Nazis use Hydra symbols and Hydra cap as images to justify their cause! It’s terrifying and marvel doesn’t seem care at all about the effect they are having on real life facism! I’m an art historian i KNOW how powerful images are and this is fucking terrifying especially since the creators are denying the power of their images!

#you're not a bad person for being interested in darkfic #but supporting marvel in any way about this is dangerous to real people #nazism tw #saynotohydracap #im very angry and very tired #Anonymous

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