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flydotnet · 6 months

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Intimacy Is Scary (It Doesn't Have to Be, But I'm Stubborn)

WHUMPTOBER 2023, DAY 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.” Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

Man, that "Non-Sexual Intimacy" tag is starting to rank up uses within this series. This is, what, the third time I'm using it? Fourth maybe?

I'm a simple girl: I love the trope of a character asking another about their scars and I! will! not! feel! bad! about! it! It's just too good to pass up and this time it's Funky Soccer Manga Rarepair Edition. This manga is prone to this kind of shit despite Urabe and Katagiri being the only characters to canonically have scars I can quote on top of my head (seriously, isn't it weird that, officially, Misugi doesn't have one on his chest, at least?), so I took advantage of that.

Despite the fact I had my idea of combining those two prompts specifically as soon as I thought about Day 27, I found myself stumped until this morning, mostly because I didn't want to write JunYayo or MatsuYoshi yet again. So instead I went for my like third most written CT ship lmfao, okay Fly, such variety.

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Intimacy Is Scary (It Doesn't Have to Be, But I'm Stubborn)

Summary: A quick check-up for a wound leads to a much more intimate conversation.

Fandom: Captain Tsubasa

Word Count: 1K words

AO3 version available here.

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In spite of everything about him that always leads to that sort of situations – his reckless style of playing, his intense training regimens, his refusal to ever slow down for anything and paying the price for it all – there’s one thing that’s become clear to Shun: he’ll never get over himself.

It’s not for lack of trying: he just hates being taken care of, he’s pretty sure. He hates the pity in people’s eyes when they look over his wounds and the concern in their voices when he has a fever and they know it just as well as he does. It makes his skin crawl and gives him the overpowering urge to leave the fuck out, never to be seen again, or something along those lines.

This used to just be an annoyance, most of the time; but now, it’s an actual issue. He doesn’t actually want to be like that, so reluctant to let himself get vulnerable even around people he trusts with his whole heart for anything else under the sun.

It’s biting him right now, since he has Kumi looking him over, or rather, trying to. They’ve been at this for the past few minutes and, now that he has to take his shirt off so she can check out if he’s scraped his shoulder or not, it’s raging an awful storm inside his mind.

“Let me see, please,” she tells him with the kindest voice that’s ever addressed to him.

Despite that, and how much he dislikes going against her, Shun remains hesitant. It still crawls under his skin.

“Do we have to?”

She doesn’t bulge, not even an iota.

“I’d feel better if I knew what exactly needs patching up.”

She makes such a compelling case – and it’s her too. The one he can actually call his girlfriend and it wouldn’t be anything close to a lie. That sucks so hard.

“Okay, okay…”

At long last, and after gulping down his ever-fluctuating pride and finally admitting to himself he can’t say no to her anymore, Shun decides to take off the damn thing and let her in at last. The pain that briefly burns even hotter as he does helps him stay grounded and, dare he say it, it may’ve softened the embarrassment that should be flowing freely inside his veins right about now (or maybe he’s finally getting over himself).

Kumi doesn’t wait a second longer before she takes out the first-aid kit on her lap and cleans out the scrape. It stings and itches, but it’s stop annoying him as much long, long ago. You do get used to it, after a while. In mere minutes, she has bandaged it without a single default and sat back inside her chair, proud smile on her face.

“Here we go, all done!” She announces, as peppy as ever.

“Thanks, it’s great!”

Right as he’s about to put on his shirt again, her eyes grow wider, and he stops midway there.

“What’s this one?” She asks, apparently mesmerized by the thing, if her wide-open eyes and how they sparkle is any indication.

He follows the direction of her fingertip, which lands on an old scar he forgot he had. It’s long, almost circling his shoulder, and clearly looks stitches – at least, it’s obvious to him, most likely because he knows he was under the knife for that one. It’s had the time to blanch out and regain some of his usual skin colour, so it’s not as ugly as it used to be (even if he’s unable to wear it as a badge of pride, unlike Urabe).

“I, uhm… I don’t remember it well, but I broke my shoulder when I was little. They had to screw stuff in place, I think.”

“Oh, that must’ve been a bad fracture, then.”

“I was apparently super annoying about being unable to use my arm. Also, I used to beep when passing through metal detectors, I can remember that. That was kinda funny, though.”

“As in?”

“I’d whine to go to sports class, even if it’d have been useless since I couldn’t use my damn arm.”

Kumi giggles.

“Then you don’t seem to have grown up this much!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” he tries to sound offended, but all he does is chuckle.

“You know what I mean! You’d still try to play soccer even without a foot – in fact, you’ve already tried playing with a sprained ankle, I remember that!” She calms down and points to another, this time much lower. “Oh, and this one?”

Shun has trouble remembering how he ended up with this one. It’s a smaller one over his ribs, far from the much cleaner, clinical one on his shoulder. He’s gotten injured enough time that he’s starting to lose track of which scar was made by what incident or how recent it actually is.

This one should be familiar, no? It’s on top of his ribs. Did he break a rib? Most certainly, he’s for sure bruised some multiple times, because running fast and loose means tripping on your laces. It’s awkward, though, how his own body confuses him, and especially now that someone is asking about it.

“I don’t really know,” he ends up admitting, not without a layer of shame. “It’s been a long time and I don’t know how it came here. Probably got it while playing around or something.”

“Oh, I see.” She does sound let down, which sucks ass. “It’s fine! You’re already really kind of replying to my questions.”

His cheeks feel a lot hotter.

“It’s no big deal,” he spits out.

He puts his shirt back on without adding any other world.

A vigorous volley of knocks at the door of the clubroom prompts them to both turn their heads around.

“Nitta! Manager! What are you two still doing in there?!”

Goddammit, that’s Ichijo.

“Coming, coming!” He yells out. “We should get outta here before they suspect something.”

She nods and gets up, giving him her hand – which he gleefully takes.

#whumptober 2023 #no.27 #scars #“let me see”#captain tsubasa #fic

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dzpenumbra · 1 year

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12/26/22

Merry Christmas!

I started my day by going to the PTSD subreddit, looking for people who were struggling today, and leaving thoughtful, honest, inspiring comments for them. I hope it made an impact. It's a bittersweet feeling for me. I still get very self-conscious about being misinterpreted and taken out of context. Something about the public nature of posting really heartfelt shit on social media, I guess. But, I swear, this fear only developed over the past like... 5 years, tops. I never used to have this problem. In fact, the account that I'm using, my primary account has posts on mental health subreddits telling my story from well over 10 years ago. I made it a point to not delete anything, to trust my story to tell itself. To not let fear make decisions for me. Now... well, I guess that's kinda the PTSD thing, in a way. I think it's trauma that did it. Betrayal of trust, shit like that. Either that or I'm just 20 years late in developing teenage trust issues. I don't know.

But yeah, it's bittersweet because it still feels like... I'm speaking from a place of expertise... and I'm usually one of the only people in the comments that's not just repeating something that was said to them by a therapist or a friend or a group therapy leader or something they read in a book. I speak like this. From the heart. And from personal experiences. And I try my hardest to disclaim that, though I really don't have to, but you know... in the Age of Anxiety, how could you NOT put a label on a bag of rice cakes that says "Do not heat these in a toaster". How could I NOT sabotage my own credibility within the first sentence of giving advice by saying "just keep in mind, this is my personal experience, and your mileage may vary, and I might be completely wrong, please don't yell at me, sir or ma'am." It's so obnoxious, I hate it... but like... I hate that it makes sense to do it, to the point where it feels almost... mandatory.

So yeah, I left people some heartfelt perspectives, and I think they were appreciated. I got up and got kitty food. She puked again, twice today, but I think it was hairballs this time. So I tried not to stress too much. I checked the rock tumbler, I was supposed to let gas out of it and check to make sure the solution in it didn't turn to sludge, and I think it's still okay so... yeah. But the barrels and tumbler are pretty hot... so I'm really gonna have to keep an eye on that. I poked some holes in the box over it, but I just don't want the thing to overheat, or be a fire risk or something. My other tumbler didn't do that, and I ran that thing in the summer, so I don't know what the deal is... but I'm just gonna keep an eye on it.

I recorded some more Rimworld. The story is very interesting and compelling. Just now, the story took some turns I really didn't feel comfortable with though. And that's a tough one. Like... it's a guy that's basically a vampire (but with a nano technology rather than vampirism being a virus), and he's stranded with his ex-wife who is a nurse and helped him get this nano-treatment to cure his terminal cancer. His ex-wife is like 25 years younger than him, so it's a little weird right off the bat, but there's the whole immortality element so it's just... all of it is super confusing ethically at that point... And they reconnect and become lovers again right off the bat, like day 2. After about a full season, they start fighting. I mean, the wife picks fights with the vampire dude. Oh shit, okay, forgot this happened first, so the wife has been starting to feel the effects of aging and she was getting food poisoning a lot so she was spending huge amounts of time in bed and she was miserable. The vampire dude offered to... infect(?) her? I don't know the right term. It's a genetic infection basically, so he would do a "procedure" where he'd inject her with some of his nanites and she would go into a coma for a few days while they essentially reprogram and overwrite her genes, giving her the genetic gifts that he got, the same way he got them from someone else - a nonexistent character I've been referring to as "The Doctor". And the catch... she was in a coma as a child for a long time. That trauma was part of what made her become a nurse. So like... this was probably the biggest decision of her life. And she went for it. So he gave her the gift...

However, I'm gonna try to put this lightly... she's a bit of a bitch. I'm still learning about her, and this game is absolutely nuts in how it will simulate these kinds of behavioral traits, especially with personality mods included. She's a misandrist, and she started to be very aggressive against vampire dude, very insulting in very deep ways, and regularly. This hit a breaking point and he actually broke up with her. This was while there was a third colony member that just joined, but he was away helping another faction harvest crops. Protein, is his name. Quite an unfortunate nickname, considering these two are literal cannibals, it kinda goes with the blood drinking thing. Like, not exclusively cannibalistic, but like... they consider themselves higher life-forms than humans, and consider human meat a sacred food as part of their spiritual beliefs. So, Protein... I couldn't pass up the chance to try to rescue that dude, and I was so glad he decided to join. But, what happened tonight was... the vampire dude... okay, he needs to do this thing called "deathrest" every... month or so? And it's basically like a 2-4 day coma where he's just out of commission, but if he completes it... he can get some pretty cool perks like faster movement and more nutrition from blood and stuff. And it's kinda mandatory, because he'll get pretty sick if he doesn't do it. So vampire dude (Lorall) goes in for his deathrest, and his ex-wife (Sylph) decides to hook up with Protein the next day. Yep. And then the second Lorall wakes up, he goes to cook some meals, then Sylph bee-lines into the kitchen, breaks the news to his face and starts insulting him again. And they get in a physical fight, but Sylph is a non-combatant, so like... she doesn't do acts of violence, despite initiating a fight... so it like... turned into a dude beating his vampire ex-wife, which was kinda really uncomfortable.

I don't like encountering infidelity or abuse stuff in story games like this. I mean, at all, really. It makes me really, really uncomfortable. I know it's important to include those things because they are things that happen and it's important for people to not think life is all sunshine and rainbows, that these things do happen in life, and when they do they look like this, as a cautionary tale. So people can recognize when those things are coming up, you know? I think that's super important. But, it still makes me really just want to stop recording, and I dread when it happens when I stream, it's just like... I start freezing up and go... no... no, come on... what are you doing... make better decisions, please, you're supposed to be a protagonist.

Well, here's another fun complication. I have over 7 hours of raw footage to work with here. I just played it back for the first bit because I didn't remember the character names by heart (I only really retain those when I say them out loud a lot). And... the videos don't have audio. YEP. 7 hours of silent film. It's still useable, I'm planning on doing the whole thing in the form of a "captain's log" journal entry style narration. Big shock, huh? And I don't mind the challenge of doing foley work. It's just a bummer. All I needed to do was fix one setting, but I didn't think to because I assumed OBS would do it for me, the whole default sound driver thing. But nope... so... cool...

Anyway, enough about that for right now. I thought the story was cool, though it did take some uncomfortable turns, maybe that just spices up the story in ways that I would not creatively have gone, maybe that's just a creative curveball that I need to see how it plays out. Like a main character dying or something, and you just need to see how it goes. The ex-wife turns out to not be the nicest person in the world, she's actually kinda cruel and vindictive, and aggressive. And the protagonist narrator, the vampire dude, is... physically abusive. And... does abuse really have the same implications for immortal beings who heal completely within hours? Does it carry the same weight? It definitely opens some interesting ethical questions.

Okay, enough about that for now, for real this time. I decided to make a present for my cat. Oooo okay, first I did yoga, that was good, I missed it yesterday, THEN I started to re-wrap my cat's big cat tree thing. It was a hand-me-down, the scratching rope was all torn to shit and cats really don't like scratching on that, so I ordered new sisal rope which came in yesterday. I cleaned up the carpet, trimmed it, tore out the old rope (salvaged what I could for god knows what craft project in the future) and put in the new stuff. It actually looks much nicer. I have another one to do on another one of the legs, but now that I know how to do it, it should be easy. I also joked about the only christmas tree I had was my cat tree, so I said screw it and decorated her tree with some christmas lights, my first time ever having my own christmas tree of any kind. I don't know if she even cares about the lights, but it was a nice moment for me. =D

Then I had a really good conversation with my mom. Like, things are getting surreal. She's opening her mind and educating herself a lot about mental health stuff, and she's starting to see everything that I've been seeing. And I feel like she's finally learning my language, which... is incredibly disorienting after like 4 years of feeling like I'm speaking Japanese to her. But it's very good. And she has a lot of insight about my personal history from childhood which has been immeasurably valuable in combatting my impostor syndrome. And she told me some really cool stories about my grandfather, who was apparently a lot like me too in a lot of ways, and was a pilot, which I always thought was really cool. We spent some time talking about Christmas and traditions and church and that kinda stuff, and the whole... ritual? I guess? Like... keeping up appearances, and getting attendance points? Making sure you show up for X or else you're going to get punished or some shit. And it was really nice to be on the same page about it, and I got to share some of my ancient cultural research about like... the origins of holidays like Christmas around this time of year. Why we celebrate family gatherings and even feasts in the middle of winter, of all times. What the point is. The Spirit of Christmas, right? Because this is a rough fucking time of year. Especially if you're in the North, I don't know if it's the same in the extreme Southern Hemisphere, but I'll tell ya... The lack of daylight. The cold. The difficulty traveling. The difficulty in heating. And I think back to the past, even just like 150 years ago, which is like... nothing, like 2 human lifespans. This was the time of year that a lot of people would just... not make it to Spring. Food would run out, people would get sick, travel would become near impossible, you were isolated and stuck with people. You need to make a deliberate point to ground that. To all individually remind yourselves "this is my family, we're all in this together, we need to appreciate each other and remember why we're all here". And that's what me and my mom did, and we told stories and bonded, it was very nice. I have always considered that... the true meaning of these kinds of holidays. And it was very nice to experience the real thing for once, and I really look forward to doing it again.

The rest of the night was leftovers, cookies and recording Rimworld. Now I'm super tired and I kinda want a bath before bed. I realize that despite having a fun chill day... I didn't do anything for myself except for 26 minutes of yoga. The cat tree was for my cat, the Rimworld is for an imaginary nonexistent audience, the phone call was for both my mom and myself. Well... the cookies were for me... XD So I kinda want to go draw a nice hot bath - at 3:30 AM - because it's cold as shit, and fuck it, it's my holiday, too. And if anyone is really bothered by me filling a tub at 3:30AM... I mean... what can I really do about that? They can get over it.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

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megabees · 4 years

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On Pike, Yasha, and Ashley Johnson

so i don’t see a lot of meta surrounding yasha or pike, and while i understand a lot of it does stem from Ashley’s absences on the show, I think there are a lot of similarities between Pike and Yasha and I want to talk about them, as a noted Pike and Yasha stan. this is inspired by meta posts by @c-is-for-circinate and @your-turn-to-role, and i want to just mention that all their metas are great.

(if you aren’t here for my long meta (and it is long), the TLDR is that Ashley explores interesting things in both her characters, such as how leaving/being left behind affects you, the idea that you can be both soft and hard at the same time, and unknown faith in a higher power, and how we don’t give her enough credit on that)

One of my biggest regrets about Pike is that with Ashley at Blindspot, we didn’t get to see her have the character arc that I feel like she deserved. Playlists for Pike include exploration of her anxiety, the feelings that she is always the one being left behind and that she is too busy tending the hearth to be able to be there for her family, being torn between doing battle and healing (much harder when you’re the only cleric, rather than Jester’s Battle Mercy vibe), and her feelings towards both Scanlan and Percy.

Those are a lot of nuanced feelings, and I think while Ashley wanted to explore them, she was robbed of some of the ability to do so by Blindspot. Due to this, I think occasionally she falls victim to the fandom trope of forgetting that a character can be complex, and that happens even in the show. Characters like Vax, Keyleth and Percy all come to her with their problems, and she takes their problems, hints at her own, but they are never unpacked. I think a prime example of this comes in Episode 54 of campaign 1, in the conversation following Vax’s trip to the Raven Queen Temple. Keyleth comes to Pike, as she’s confused by Vax and the Raven Queen, and the following conversation ensues.

Keyleth: I guess I just - I've always respected you and looked up to you, and... you're a cleric of Sarenrae, but you still seem to be very much in control of your life and your destiny, and you seem to know where you're going.

Pike: It's okay. I feel like maybe I just look that way, because I don't feel like I have much of anything together, or know where I'm going.

-brief break to talk about Vax and the Raven Queen and how much we hate the Raven Queen-

Keyleth: Would you say you haven't fully given yourself to Sarenrae?

Pike:(hesitantly) I think I try to, but there's always that little part of me that thinks... or has doubt? So I don't know.

Pike is in doubt! About her gods, about her destiny, (about the fact that she’s developing feelings for Scanlan and losing them for Percy), but we never explore that! And then Ashley has to go back and we have to fight some dragons and then Scanlan LEAVES, and she’s mad about that, and heartbroken. Remember those issues about being left while everyone else goes off? That factors into why she was so mad at Scanlan. He may have idolized her and hit on her relentlessly, but he made sure to check in on her and her well being, and he grew up once he had a daughter.

Above all, Pike is a healer, and a devoted one at that. She’s loyal, and she’s kind and she puts others in front of her at all times. But it’s hard to do that all of the time, and it makes her get walked on sometimes. I love VM, but Pike is swayed easily by them, and they don’t talk to her about it as much as they should. (there’s some interesting meta to be done here about the way clerics are treated as not having their own problems and how they tend to repress rather than address, in both the MN and VM, but that’s for another time). She’s painfully aware of each time VM leaves her behind, and how her service stops her from helping her friends.

On the other hand, Yasha’s exploration looks at how leaving can hurt your friends. She’s off to wherever the Stormlord calls her, but she doesn’t always provide that closure to her friends of where she’s going or how long she will be gone. In a way, the inverse of Pike. It’s explained as “oh that’s just what she does” by Molly in the very beginning, but when Yasha is taken by Obann, it is taken to a whole new level.

Yasha joins Obann, and she does hurt her friends. She’s forced to kill the Cobalt Soul. She almost kills Beau in the cathedral. She hurts Fjord below the earth. For a while, she is gone and she is hurting innocent people, and that affects her emotional state. How is she supposed to gain these people’s trust back, especially after they are used to her not sticking around? I think this is one of the main reasons (other than Blindspot ending) that Yasha sticks around after the Cathedral. Ashley says in her first playlist that “She realizes it’s better to keep a safe distance from those you care about. It’s better not to care. Leave in the night. Search for more answers. Leave, because where she’s going, she can’t be saved anyway.” This is Yasha’s attitude up until she is let back into the MN after almost killing Beau. They are still kind to her. They pull her up from the depths. In the second playlist, Ashley writes “The Mighty Nein had compassion for her and took her back in, even after almost killing Beau. They showed her love. But forgiving yourself takes a lot more time…In life, it’s so much easier to punish yourself for mistakes than it is to forgive. But sometimes, SOMETIMES, love makes it through the cracks. The greatest balm for certain wounds, for healing, is love and acceptance.”

Yasha is learning how to let people in, to let herself be taken care of and to take care of others. She is learning how to reconcile the soft parts of her with the hard. That’s the other thing so compelling about Ashley’s characters. Both Yasha and Pike play with the juxtaposition between hard and soft, between strong, loud, angry with timid, quiet, kind. Pike is “a MONSTAH.” She’s small, but she’s tough. A healer, but one who would rather be hitting. Yasha is big, but she’s so tender. A tank, but one who heals immediately. There are no shortage of incredible female characters in CR, but the way that Ashley creates characters who don’t play to type shows me that she knows how to mix up her characters for conflict. A tenderhearted, mild barbarian and a tough, bold cleric provide an inherent contrast within their characters which allows for a more tangible personage.

In addition, Pike and Yasha both find themselves perplexed by the gods, but leading with unwavering faith. The Stormlord saved Yasha. He plucked her from a rage and reminded her of who she was. Sarenrae saved Pike. She was in a family who had an unfavorable reputation, and she was reunited with Wilhand, who gave her a relationship with Sarenrae and Grog. These interceedings from the gods produce an unrelenting faith, even when it’s hard, and move both Pike and Yasha to a higher mission of growth.

In summary, Pike and Yasha are incredibly complex characters, and with a brief peek behind the curtain, we can see the ways that they’re similar. Ashley plays quiet sometimes, but her scenes in which she’s in control are spectacular, and her characters are as well. She bides her time, and she knows her characters well, what makes them tick and how they would react to certain situations. It’s a pity we didn’t get more time with Pike, but I’m looking forward to seeing where she takes Yasha.

#critical role #critical role meta #meta #yasha nydoorin #yasha #pike trickfoot #pike #ashley johnson #cr meta

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

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Longitudinalwaveme Reviews Some More Old Comics (and One New One), Part 2

Batman #321, “Dreadful Birthday, Dear Joker...!”

The story opens with Commissioner Gordon receiving an invitation to the Joker’s birthday party. “Black tie optional, funny hats mandatory”. A few seconds later, everyone in police headquarters doubles over laughing, the victims of Joker’s, well, Joker gas.

Batman is on the scene only a few seconds later, and starts punching out Joker’s goons. Unfortunately, by the time he’s finished doing this, both Joker and Commissioner Gordon have disappeared.

Eminently Quotable Joker: “Ah---the Batman! What an expected surprise! And what a waste of a perfectly good window! Couldn’t you have used the door?”

As Joker leaves in his Jokermobile, the police officers tell Batman that the Joker also captured Robin earlier that day (by pretending to be a woman with car problems!)

Meanwhile, Selina Kyle, Lucius Fox, and Alfred are talking when the Joker bursts in and kidnaps them as well. Notably, Selina mentions that she’s been having terrible headaches.

Selina Kyle wakes up in a room with Batman; the other kidnapees wake up in the Joker’s “Ha-Hacienda” on his “victim-go-round”.

Eminently Quotable Joker: “Tomorrow is my birthday, and by way of celebration, I intend to eliminate all you who’ve crossed me, while all of Gotham watches! It’s not exactly the catcher’s mitt I really wanted...but it’s a pretty fair second place! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Hawkman stars in a Hostess cupcake ad!

The Joker murders one of his own henchman with his “BANG!” flag gun for not laughing at his joke.

Eminently Quotable Joker (in response to Robin saying “You’re out of your mind!”): “Gloriously so! Isn’t it wonderful?”

In order to get his audience, the Joker put an ad in the newspaper that states that the “Harlequin Baking Company” will be inviting all of Gotham to sample its wares at the Seaside Coliseum. AND IT WORKS, because everyone in Gotham has the IQ of turnips. A bazillion people come to the Coliseum to get free food.

Joker dramatically reveals himself to everyone and explains that he’s going to blow up all the people he hates with a giant cake bomb. Then Batman arrives and offers himself in exchange for the other hostages. This goes exactly how you’d expect it to go, but Batman manages Batman his way out of the trap, saving both himself and all of his friends.

Joker runs away and jumps into a boat. Batman follows him, they fight for a bit, and then the Joker apparently blows himself up. But he’s not dead, because nothing can kill the Joker. Batman even says so.

This would’ve made a great episode of B:TAS.

Batman #322, “Chaos--Coming and Going!”

And now for something completely different!

Catwoman looks at a bunch of old newspaper clippings of herself, as the comic hints fairly subtly that she might be unwell (just as her headaches last issue did).

Meanwhile, a van is delivering issues of the tabloid The Gotham Guardian...when a thrown bundle of newspapers is intercepted by a boomerang! Captain Boomerang is in Gotham City!

The two men in the van react by promptly trying to run Digger over....only for him to slice their van in half with a boomerang!

Digger yells at them to tell their boss that this was only a warning: the mysterious boss owes him a million dollars, and he wants it in 24 hours or else.

Then Batman shows up out of nowhere and he and Boomerang get into a fight. Digger distracts Batman by using his exploding boomerang to damage a nearby building. This causes some rubble to fall on one of the drivers. Batman goes to rescue him, and Digger vanishes.

Green Arrow stars in a Hostess fruit pie ad!

Batman talks to Alfred about Captain Boomerang, telling him to ask Lucius Fox to find out who owns the Guardian, since he’s probably Boomerang’s next target. He also refuses to call the Flash in for help. “The night I can’t handle a punk like Boomerang is the night I hang up my cowl!”

Catwoman goes to a doctor and it’s confirmed that she is, in fact, dying. She has less than a month to live and the only cure is some Egyptian herbs that have been lost to time.

Meanwhile, Captain Boomerang lets us know that he hates Gotham. “Lor’, but I hate this cronky town! I never would’ve come her from Central City if it wasn’t for my million quid!”

Apparently, Captain Boomerang set up a retirment fund for himself and is ticked off that has money was subsequently stolen.

“It’s really rum--downright ironic! The one time I play the game by their rules--and it’s me who gets taken for a sucker! Well, nobody crosses “Digger” Harkness--and gets away with it intact!” That’s our Digger!

Also, he has a giant boomerang hidden under a tarp.

Catwoman goes to the museum to see a display about cats...and conveniently, some ancient Egyptian medicinal herbs are there. Catwoman determines to take them so she can save herself.

Batman asks the most Irish Irishman to ever walk the pages of the comic book about where he might be able to find Captain Boomerang, but he hasn’t heard anything. Then Alfred calls Batman and tells him that Lucius has discovered that the Gotham Guardian is owned by a corporation which serves as a front for a guy named Gregorian Falstaff.

The man in question is eating dinner at a hotel when he is rudely interrupted by Captain Boomerang, who knocks out Falstaff’s bodyguard and demands his money. Falstaff plays dumb, claiming that the whole thing was an unfortunate accident and offering to write him a check. Boomerang insists that it’s cash or nothing (since he doesn’t trust Falstaff). Then Batman shows up, and Digger throws a smoke bomb boomerang that distracts Batman long enough for him to knock him out with another boomerang.

“You gave it a fair dinkum try, cobber-but fair ain’t enough when you’re dealin’ with the likes of me!’” Didgeridoo! Crikey! Steve Irwin! Can you tell I’m Australian yet?

Selina Kyle tries to call Bruce but can’t get ahold of him, so she decides to take matters into her own hands and pulls out her Catwoman costume.

When Batman comes to, he’s been tied to the giant boomerang.

“Nothin’ permanent, mate--you’re simply tied to my giant rocket-powered boomerang! Only Flash’s super-speed saved him from the original--and without super-powers you’ll never escape this improved version!” So...which one of the giant boomerangs you used to launch the Flash into space are we talking about here, Digger? Because there’ve been at least four at this point.

Boomerang launches the boomerang into the air and it explodes. Digger is naturally convinced that he’s killed Batman, only for Batman to promptly prove him wrong by showing up alive and well. “Nobody could possibly survive a flight on my Doomerang!” Oh, Digger...

Batman explains that he survived by “maneuvering my bonds toward the Doomerang’s rocket-jets--and the ignition-flames freed me! Then I simply slipped away under the cover of all that smoke before the Doomerang took off!” I love that Batman also calls the thing a Doomerang (with a totally straight face, mind you.)

Then Digger throws a boomerang at Batman at the same time Batman throws a Batarang at him. But because Batman is Batman, he wins the boomerang duel and knocks Digger out. Way to take away Digger’s only accomplishment there, Batman. It’s like if Superman won any of his races against the Flash.

Batman decides to investigate Falstaff.

Meanwhile, at the museum, someone who looks like Catwoman is stealing one of the exhibits....

Flash #286, “The Color Schemes of the Rainbow Raider”

This issue introduces the greatest villain of all time...the dreaded Rainbow Raider!

After a long day at work, Barry Allen is heading home...only for an alarm to go off at the Centrex Art Museum! Barry has to promptly go into action as the Flash as Barry thinks about how tired he is. Apparently, his new police chief, Darryl Frye, has made him work overtime three times in one week alone.

Suddenly, a rainbow appears, bewildering Barry, as it hasn’t rained for the past week. Barry runs inside the museum to find the guards crying inexplicably. Barry deduces that the thief has been altering their emotions and realizes that this is probably not one of his established Rogues.

Sure enough, he soon comes face-to-face with the Rainbow Raider!

“Welcome, Flash! I didn’t think you and I would be meeting so soon...but sooner or later we were bound to clash! Allow me to introduce myself! I am the Rainbow Raider---the most colorful criminal this city’s ever seen!” Oh, Roy. You’re so amazingly silly, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Roy shoots a beam of blue light at Barry, who somehow deduces that this was what enabled him to mess with the emotions of the guards. Barry dodges the blast of blue light, but it hit and knocked out by a blast of black light.

The police are suitably baffled by the Rainbow Raider, who, incidentally, signed his crime scene with “The Rainbow Raider was here!” That’s amazing.

Meanwhile, the Flash runs home, for the Rainbow Raider has...uh....sucked all of the color out of his body! Somehow! Wha?

Meanwhile, in a mobile trailer, Roy is gloating to himself. “Now I know I’m ready for the big leagues--on a par with seasoned criminals like Captain Cold and Mirror Master!” Uh...sure, Roy.

Batman and Catman star in a Hostess cupcake ad!

“Roy G. Bivolo is compelled by higher motivations--like art appreciation!”

Roy reveals that he suffers from achromotopsia, a rare form of colorblindness that means he sees the world entirely in greyscale. This fact apparently scuppered his burgeoning artistic career, because the art critics of Central City have never heard of black-and-white artwork even though it totally exists.

Also, Roy’s dad was apparently a, quote, “leading world-renowned optometrist”, and he tried to create goggles that would allow Roy to see color. He passed away shortly after Roy turned 21; having finished the googles just days before.

When Roy tested them a few weeks later, he found that they hadn’t cured his colorblindness...but that they could shoot out “bands of multi-colored solid light particles that I could literally “ride” through the sky”. Roy then uses his father’s notes to unlock even more abilities with his goggles. Eventually, his mother also passed away, and Roy decided to turn to crime.

“Since I was robbed of a brilliant art career as a painter--I think it’s only fitting that I rob others....rob them of the pleasure they’ve derived all these years from priceless works of art I myself have never been able to enjoy! If I can’t see them in all their glory---then neither will anyone else!” Roy...that’s insane.

Barry Allen fails in his attempt to flirt with Fiona Webb, then exposits about pseudoscience. “The color black appears black because it absorbs the light waves of all other colors...without reflecting them! Those black beams the Rainbow Raider enveloped me with must’ve had a similar effect--saturating my body with radiation that prevents me from reflecting any and all light-waves...leaving me totally colorless!” SCIENCE!

Barry uses makeup and hair day to make himself look normal. As a result, he’s 20 minutes late to work and gets chewed out by his boss.

Also: “The unnatural inner-vibrations from this color drain are steadily sapping more and more energy from my molecules by the minute!” More SCIENCE!

Barry is about to get to work when he hears about the opening of the Skytop Art Gallery. Assuming that this would be an ideal target for the Rainbow Raider, he goes into action as the Flash.

Roy has created a distraction by using his emotional manipulation powers to get all of the art patrons to fight each other while he escapes. Barry runs up a building and onto Rainbow Raider’s rainbow...whereupon Raider shoots a blinding light at him, causin him to slip off the rainbow and almost fall to his doom. Luckily, his ability to vibrate through anything saves his life, as he manages to vibrate through a green car he was about to land on.

Barry then finds that he’s turned totally green. ‘I must’ve been vibrating on the precise wavelength of the color green when I passed through this heap--somehow allowing me to regain my capacity to absorb green light-waves!” SCIENCE! He then starts running through vehicles of other colors to regain his capacity to absorb those light-waves, too. Since Raider is colorblind, he can’t figure out what the Flash is up to.

When Raider takes one last blast at the Flash, the effects restore him to normal, and Flash is able to make quick work of the Rainbow Raider.

I love the Rainbow Raider so much.

#flash comics #batman comics #dc comics

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wondereads · 3 years

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Personal Recommendation (06/06/21)

The Cruel Prince by Holly Black

Why am I recommending this book?

I really loved this book. It was really well-written, the characters were great, and I have an extreme obsession with faeries. I can see why it's so popular, and I finished the entire series in a week.

Want something short and sweet? Check out my tiktok

Plot 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

When she was a child, Jude Duarte's parents were killed by her mother's first husband, a vengeful faerie general. The general in question, Madoc, took his own faerie child, Jude's older sister Vivienne, and mortal Jude and her twin sister Taryn to live with him in Elfhame. Although Jude lives under his protection, she is abused by the complicated rules and vicious inhabitants there. Desperate for power, Jude gets involved in a power struggle between the three princes of Elfhame, Dain, Balekin, and her personal tormenter, Cardan.

I love political intrigue books; I also talked about this in my review of The Winter Duke. I find it so much more interesting when the characters decide to use manipulation and politics to their advantage than just going to war. Also, despite most of the faeries being irredeemable assholes, Jude's motivation to protect Elfhame and continue to live there was believable. Also, the missions she went on were always full of suspense, and I don't think I was ever bored while reading this book. Normally, romantic relationships in the midst of much bigger problems tend to irk me, but Jude and Locke's relationship was incredibly riveting. Rather than just being a distraction from the main plot like in some other books, I think that whole interaction only fueled Jude's decisions later, especially in terms of her recklessness. Also, all of the scenes where Jude develops other relationships, such as with Taryn, Cardan, Dain, and the Court of Shadows, contributed either to Jude's character development or directly to the plot. Finally, there are many twists and turns throughout the book. The reader knows there's something up, but I could never quite figure it out in time. For example, it's not hard to see that something's up with Locke. However, I had no idea what it actually was until the reveal took place. I was always on the edge of my seat.

Characters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

It is so hard to write from the perspective of only one character and then make them likable. Despite the entire book being from Jude's perspective, she was my favorite character. She's tough, she's unrelenting, and she's willing to make sacrifices. On the other hand, she's ruthless, reckless, and not exactly what I would call a 'hero'. It is so satisfying to have a main character that understands that sometimes bloodshed is necessary and does not shy away from making hard decisions. Jude, of course, initially has reservations against killing, but I think the way she overcomes that was perfect.

Cardan, of course, is a crazy complicated character. Especially since it's all from Jude's perspective, we never know exactly what he's thinking. Either way, you'll probably end up hating him before you're a few chapters in. Despite that, the paper and the Court of Shadows scene are rattling. I won't go into further detail to avoid spoilers, but I have to mention that I loved where Cardan and Jude's relationship left off in the first book. It's made abundantly clear that they do not love each other, probably don't even like each other. What they have is a mutual obsession, and they definitely have a long way to go for any semblance of a healthy relationship.

As for the other characters, I would willingly kill Taryn and Locke, no I will not elaborate. Madoc is more trouble than he's worth, and I will forever be shaken over the fact that he is apparently green. I'm kind of on the fence with Nicasia because she's had to deal with just as much manipulation from faeries as Jude, but she also, you know, as humiliated Jude and tried to kill her multiple times, so... Valerian can choke. I actually quite like Oriana and Oak, and I think Oriana would be fine if she wasn't so paranoid about Jude and her sisters. Finally, I could never get a good read on Dain, but I think that fits well. It makes sense that he never shows his hand, and I did at least like him, even if I didn't trust him.

Writing Style 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Holly Black's pacing is impeccable. I was never bored while reading this book, and I felt like I had to keep going. Many fantasy books are tricky in the first quarter or so because of all the worldbuilding that has to be established, but I think she worked it into the actual plot very well. There's also the issue that writing about faeries is tough. They're always giving out riddle and all their words have double meanings, so the author has to account for that, which I think Black did wonderfully. Once again, it's amazing that I like Jude so much when the entire book is just undiluted her all the time. I'm so impressed that I never once disliked her while reading. Also, there were certain scenes that absolutely took my breath away. As in, I had to stop and breathe for a moment after I finished them. Finally, I loved that Holly Black included allusions to the other faerie books she's written, such as Severin from The Darkest Part of the Forest and Roiben and Kaye from Tithe.

Overall 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I love it. The plot was very well planned out, the characters were well-developed and had believable motivations, and the pacing was so good. I can see why people go crazy for Jude and Cardan because they're both compelling characters with a relationship that can't go five minutes without creating some new drama. There's also the fact that I love anything to do with the darker side of faerie lore. I would recommend this book for people who like faeries, enemies to lovers, and complicated family relations.

The Author

Holly Black: American, 49, also wrote The Spiderwick Chronicles, Modern Faerie Tales, and The Iron Trial

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every two weeks, and I take recommendations. Check out my about me post for more!

#books #recommendations #reviews #the cruel prince #holly black #folk of the air #fantasy #ya

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hazard-and-friends · 3 years

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i watched the first episode of canine intervention tonight, here’s some uncensored liveblogging featuring my spicey dog training takes:

“my dog training system is known all over the world" mhmm. lemme google this guy.

by clicking through his in person training site to his online remote training course, i found a whole lot of big red flags: "Establish pack leadership" dogs don't have pack leaders. anyone who wants to make you a leader is not using a good understanding of dog behavior "Time your praise and corrections" the times when i use corrections are when i'm the least on my game. my goal is NEVER to use corrections/positive punishment. why should i? it's concerning that he uses it as a core part of his method. "Exercise and reinforce your leadership as a way of life" more leadership bullshit.

fancy letters are not the end-all-be-all, and there are trainers i seriously respect who have none of them. but they don't talk about leadership and corrections. it's concerning that he talks about his sports team as a kid, where he went to high school, and his celebrity clients, but not his mentors and education in training.

back to the show

why does his facility have enough dogs to keep them in kennels? how does that teach aggressive dogs how to be safe in a home environment?

not all of the dogs in the first shot of a class (~1:38) have two collars on but a lot do. that's not a red flag (i worked sydney in two collars [her flat collar and a martingale, because syd was very gear smart and it was nice to tell her that we were doing heeling now]) but with what i saw on his website? it's quite likely that one of those is the dog's normal flat collar with tags, and the other is a prong, choke chain, or electric collar

also: "I help the dogs that no one else will" is a flat out lie

if you're willing to take on any human aggression cases, generally you’re willing to take on all of them. now, some of these cases may generally lead to a recommendation of euthanasia. but that's in the best interests of the dog and owner

oop class shot where it's clear that they're wearing prongs

here's two points not about this guy specifically: 1) it is hard (impossible?) to do humane, ethical dog training in a 45 minute episode slot. it's not good tv. it's slow as hell. there's no drama. the aggression trainers i know? have never been bitten. many have never been CLOSE to being bitten. no tv value. 2) the positive dog training community is OVERWHELMINGLY white and middle class.

it's also full of racists.

"Nearly a million dogs are euthanized yearly and over 40% of them are pit bulls" i've calculated that first statistic myself, but it's important to put it in context: this is USA specific, and that's down from 3-4 million 20 years ago. the second one, i would love to see his source.

he's right that it's important to understand where aggression comes from

anyway back to those two points, at the same time that it's really, really hard to do compelling TV with ethical dog trainers, it's also really REALLY important that the positive dog training community be working on being anti-racist. and it's really, really important that low income dog owners and people of color are getting good dog training.

alright first case! he's had her 3 months, 3 bites in that time. 10 attempted attacks. she's a young adult bully breed mix who had one front leg amputated after being shot. owner walks her in a muzzle which is a) too small and b) not bite proof.

"I see what we're working with" he says, after approaching a dog in her crate. hazard responds similarly to someone coming in, but he's not a bite risk. that's not a good evaluation.

he is correct about lady macbeth's motivations: this is a dog who's scared as hell and making herself really big and scary so that everyone leaves her alone.

okay he's also right that playing with her around strangers is really, really good for fear aggression

"frenzied just chaotic state" yeah no

reality check for y'all: i am not an aggression specialist and i have seen more freaked out dogs

she was on edge! she was unhappy! but holy shit was she not even remotely close to what dogs are capable of

"she just bit me!" she nipped your cheek, not breaking skin. that's a level 1 or 2 (of 6). that's not NOTHING but it's well within normal for a dog who's being restrained when she wants to be somewhere else.

[note that at no point in the episode was the owner ever given any sort of indication that lady macbeth is not this horribly aggressive Pit Bull TM. nor was there any discussion of a bite scale.]

"The only option we're gonna have is to [board and train] for 3 weeks" "I have no choice but to take her back to my facility back in San Jose and work daily with her" no!!!!!

[15 minute break]

lmao sorry i had to go yell at gf about how much this board and train is not necessary and in the process penny decided to cause Drama again

ANYWAY, the b&t is not necessary because all of those aggressive incidents bar the first could have been avoided if the owner was on the ball. this is not JUST a lady macbeth issue, this is ALSO an owner issue. both of them need to relearn how to handle new people.

as a bonus, lady macbeth needs to learn to trust her owner, which she categorically cannot do in a b&t

"The box is an important training tool to teaching new behaviors. It's also a first step in establishing pack leadership" ok this is new to me

and new is not a good thing here

text: Obedience depends on a dog's trust and respect for their pack leader calculus depends on your trust and respect for your math teacher! if you respect them a lot you will magically be able to do calc!

I WAS HOPING. I WAS TRYING.

i was HOPING that his training for her fear aggression would be based in toy play.

instead he's got a fake arm and he keeps reaching out to poke her, and the owner says "no!" and does a leash pop (leash wrapped around her neck) every time she tries to bite.

"She doesn't know it's not his hand" it smells like plastic what would she THINK it is

also funky that we're 19 minutes into the episode about an aggressive bully breed mix and the trainer's childhood bully breed mix who killed a dog, and like. not a single mention of what these dogs were bred for.

let's go back to "how are you teaching aggressive dogs to live nicely in a home, if they are spending most of the day in a wire kennel"

for shits take, high school doesn't teach you how to handle your emotions! why should obedience class teach your dog the same?

and then like, every time she breaks the down he yells NOPE and leans over her??????

dude you're scaring her into being obedient. while you're talking about how it's important to treat her fear.

text: Fear based aggression can be reduced by desensitizing the dog to strangers you're right! it sure can! THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU'RE DOING HERE

you've got a dog on her side with one hand over her, the other on a skinny check chain on her neck. every time she does anything but lay flat, the leash is popped and you say no. you are flooding this dog and creating learned helplessness.

jo summed it up well with this: he's good at seeing the behavior, he knows what he's looking at, he just can't change it. he only knows one method.

jo and i are now trying to figure out if "dog training but marie kondo not cesar milan" is a viable tv show

jas correctly stops the friend and changes how he approaches the dog, that's a good response

i'm laughing bc after a 3 week board and train which is not going to be less than $4k, he's giving the exact same "how to meet new people" directions that i would give to a similar client--at the start of our time! not at the end!

"I can't imagine imagine a dog having it too much worse than she did, the fact that she took a gunshot, the fact that she had no security for years of her life" alright dude a) think worse, this PALES to abuse cases b) let's not? shittalk? the care that people without reliable housing give to their dogs (and occasional cat!)?? because what they do for their pets is incredible, and it isn't necessarily connected to her opinions on strangers

so yeah still laughing bc like. that "happy ending" would be my first session with a client. that's how you START handling stranger danger. and for this the owner paid thousands.

#ethics in dog ownership #dog training #ask to tag

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poppy-pelican · 4 years

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Darkness on Fire (chapter 2/5)

Rating: Explicit (although not until later chapters)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692747/chapters/65460514#workskin

Chapter 2 Summary: Hawkeye and Mustang discover some secrets about Van Hohenheim and his family, and their simple bodyguard job quickly gets complicated.

Two Years Later

Chris Mustang should have known raising a boy around an establishment like hers would come back to bite her in the ass. When her nephew was tragically turned into a vampire, she had expected him to sulk and pout about it. But no, Roy relished his new night life, as he called it. Currently he was tasting his third woman of the night, always out in the open for anyone to see. Chris had asked him to take it back to a private room—many times—but he claimed it was good for business. He dropped by once a week for his meals unless work kept him away. It was always the same. He never took one of her girls to a private room, always drank from their wrists, and was never exclusive with a particular woman like her many other vampire customers.

The only steady woman in his life was his dedicated assistant, Riza Hawkeye. Chris checked her watch. It was past five in the morning. The stoic assistant would be arriving soon to remind Roy to leave before sunrise. He hadn’t explained why he returned from the militia with his alchemist teacher’s daughter as his shadow. When Chris had poked around for information from others, the truth of it had been enough for her to refrain from searching for anymore answers on the subject.

Vanessa, whose wrist Roy was tasting, giggled as he licked the wound shut with an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows. She blew him a kiss and sashayed over to a vampire couple who wanted a quick bite to share before dinner. Vanessa was best suited for that kind of meal, seeing as she was a vampire herself.

Roy slunk over to the bar, his gaze flicking revealingly to the door where he expected his assistant to appear.

“I’m going to be unreachable for at least a week,” he said. “An old friend asked me to come for a visit. Elizabeth will be accompanying me.”

“Oh?” Chris asked. The two of them were part of an elite, off-the-books team for the new fuhrer. They were slowly hunting down the last of the previous regime’s supporters—the ones who wanted humans to submit and produce blood like livestock. But since Roy mentioned Hawkeye’s codename, that meant this assignment was not from Grumman. A more personal assignment, then?

“Enjoy your visit,” she said.

Roy checked the door again, not even attempting to hide it.

“She’s late, huh?” Chris asked. “That’s not like her.”

“She was running an errand for me. I’m going to be annoyed if she doesn’t get here before sunrise.”

Chris held back a smirk at his barely concealed worry. “Are you going to need a room?” she asked.

The question went unanswered as Hawkeye finally walked in the door, folding a dripping umbrella.

“Did you get held up?” Roy asked.

“Hi Chris, could I get a quick coffee?” Hawkeye asked, ignoring the question.

“Sure thing.”

As she listened to the pair’s hushed conversation, she saw she already had a pot of coffee ready. She didn’t recall making it, so it must have been one of the girls.

“It took longer than expected, but I got what you needed,” Hawkeye said. “We can talk more about it tomorrow night.”

“You’re going to make me wait all day?”

Chris put the mug down in front of Hawkeye, who thanked her quietly.

“You should get home, sir. Not only is it raining, but the sunrise is soon.”

“Rain,” he grumbled.

“I have an extra umbrella in my bag,” she said. She tossed it at him. “I’m going to drink this and then I have a few more errands to run.”

He gave a petulant sigh, but waved goodbye and was out the door. After the rest of the vampire customers had either left or taken one of Chris’s safe rooms, Chris returned to Hawkeye, pouring herself a glass of white wine.

“How did your meeting tonight really go?” Chris asked.

Hawkeye clutched the mug closer to her.

“It went fine.”

“It seemed like you were shooing my boy away,” Chris said. “Have something to hide?”

“I just didn’t want him to burn any bridges because of me. Our contact can be difficult, but he always has the best information.”

“So…there’s a reason to burn bridges?” Chris inferred.

“Not on my account,” Hawkeye said. “Next time I will just make sure to bring your nephew along. I don’t like surprise vampire meetings. It was supposed to be just myself and the contact.”

And there was the info Roy would take issue with. He never wanted her to deal with vampires on her own—and with good reason.

“You don’t look compelled now, but…” Chris looked Hawkeye over. Her skin was paler than usual, her eyes red and tired. If nothing else, the blood would give her a small energy boost. “I have some vampire blood on hand if you need.” As her bar grew into a neutral ground for vampires to meet, she had long ago started keeping the stuff on hand.

“I probably should. To be safe. Though I can’t see why they would have bothered,” Hawkeye said. “Aside from trying to intimidate me with the vampire they brought along, it was a simple exchange. Though… I may have threatened to blow his head off,” she said with a half-smile. Hawkeye’s reflexes were legendary. Few humans could hit a vampire target so unerringly.

Chris gave a throaty chuckle. “That’s one way to take care of things.”

She pulled out a lockbox she kept under the bar for special customers. Compulsion was a tricky thing. During active compulsion, it was easy to notice, particularly if it was someone you knew well, but if the vampire compelled you to forget, that was a different matter.

She opened the box, glancing at the tiny bottles of blood. “I don’t have Roy’s on hand, if you’d prefer his, I keep it upstairs.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

“How about this one,” Chris said, holding up a labeled bottle for Hawkeye to take.

“Maes Hughes?” Hawkeye asked curiously. Hughes was a good man—and a lucky one. It wasn’t six months after Roy transitioned into a vampire that Hughes followed him into the nightlife, although with far less enthusiasm than Roy. Hughes’s spirits rose once his girlfriend assured him she wouldn’t leave him over some fangs and a change in diet.

Hawkeye thought it over for a minute before grimacing and adding a few drops to her coffee.

“He’s a frequent donor. He likes to help out,” Chris explained, watching as Hawkeye took a sip.

“No compulsion,” Hawkeye confirmed. “And I’m pretty sure this coffee is made of tar because I can’t even tell there’s blood in it,” she said with a wink.

Hawkeye finished her coffee, leaving just as the first rays of light began to peek across the rooftops. The rain had stopped, and she left her umbrella behind with a subdued wave before she went out the door.

Chris ambled over to the umbrella, picking it up. Inside she found a note wrapped around the handle, “Mustang’s sire is back in Central. Be careful.”

Chris crumpled the note, feeling deeply unsettled. She knew how desperately Roy and Hawkeye wanted to put an end to deceptively young Selim Bradley’s life, and yet they were leaving town. It gave her a bad feeling, but she could only trust the pair would take care of each other and return safely.

“Why the hell did Hohenheim ask us all the way out here?” Roy asked, looking around the small village of Resembool with skepticism. They had arrived on the sleeper train, and sunrise would be soon. Roy was uncomfortably aware of the lack of safe houses in the country compared to Central. “Pretty sure the people are outnumbered a thousand to one by sheep.”

“Let’s get going. Hohenheim said he’d meet us near the general store,” Hawkeye said, marching ahead without waiting for a response.

Roy let her gain some distance as he did one more scan of the area. While Hawkeye held her own, she was only human and therefore much slower. Usually they would drive together, but it seemed the invention of the car had yet to trickle its way to the rural areas of Amestris. Instead there was enough quiet that Roy could hear Hawkeye’s delicious heartbeat thumping along even a hundred feet away.

He caught up to Hawkeye with ease, even though he carried both their bags. Hohenheim had been incredibly vague and unforthcoming about how long they would be needed or why, so Hawkeye had insisted they pack enough to get by for at least two weeks.

Hohenheim appeared at the end of the road, his unusual golden eyes almost glowing in the moonlight.

“Welcome, little brother,” Hohenheim greeted. He refused to stop calling him that no matter how often Roy reminded him he hated it. Exactly like an older brother, Roy supposed. “And the lovely Miss Hawkeye. I’m glad you’re here. My wife is excited to meet you.”

“Your wife?” Hawkeye asked, her curiosity leaking out.

“The mysterious Mrs. Hohenheim?” Roy asked.

Hohenheim chuckled lowly. “Yes, although she kept her maiden name, Elric. Resembool is her hometown, actually. She wanted to raise the children here.”

“Children?” Roy asked, his surprise mounting. “As in—your children?” Although Hohenheim had taken Roy under his wing after his untimely death, he had never mentioned children, not even his wife’s name. He was exceptionally private.

“Yes, we have two boys. Edward and Alphonse. Ed is eleven, Al is ten.” Hohenheim sighed like an exhausted but doting father. “They are a handful. Very talented alchemists for their age. And…fledgling vampires.”

“That is not what I was expecting,” Hawkeye said bluntly.

Roy shook his head, hoping to clear it. “Something tells me our sire knows about them.”

“I’ve no idea how he heard about them, but he sent a…letter” Probably not a good letter. “Usually I can talk him out of his delusions, which is why I’d like to deal with him promptly. Did you find out his location?”

“He’s in Central,” Roy said, looking at Hawkeye intently. She had been very close-lipped about her meeting with Raven other than the basic facts she had gleaned from him. “He’s been spotted at his usual haunts there.”

“Good,” Hohenheim started walking at a brisk vampire pace. “I’ll take you to my house. Sunrise isn’t far off.” Then he quickly retraced his steps, turning sheepishly to Hawkeye.

“Just give me the directions and I’ll find my own way there,” she said, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. She hated when her humanness was a burden.

“All right. The boys can let you in. They are still very tolerant of the sun.”

Roy was intrigued. He had heard of vampire children, but they were rare and—like these boys—kept hidden until maturity. No wonder Hohenheim settled in such an isolated town.

Riza would have considered staying in town and renting a wagon if she’d known most of her walk would be uphill. Sunrise had come and gone, and the August sun was stretching across the rolling hills. She shed her light jacket, carrying it over her arm the rest of the journey.

She was almost there when she finally came across other humans. An adorable family with a young daughter.

“Are you looking for the automail shop?” the mom asked, crinkling her eyes in a friendly smile. Perhaps she thought Riza’s arm hidden beneath her jacket was automail.

“No, just visiting some friends,” Riza replied, hoping she didn’t come off too rude. She wasn’t sure she should let anyone know who she was visiting.

“Well, we are the doctors in town,” the man said, introducing them as the Rockbells. “If you need anything, stop by the clinic.”

Riza thanked them and continued up the hill. As she spotted a house that fit with Hohenheim’s directions, she spied two boys tussling in the shade of a large tree. They had the same coloring as Hohenheim.

She studied the boys. They looked so human, but there was something different about their movements. Faster, stronger, like a vampire. Any concern about their control around a frail human fled the moment they spotted her and reverted to human speeds, coming over to greet her politely.

“You Uncle Roy’s friend?” the smaller one asked. She stifled a laugh at him referring to Roy as uncle. Probably more of Hohenheim’s teasing.

“Yes, Riza Hawkeye. Are you Edward and Alphonse?”

“I’m Ed. This is Al,” the taller one said, sticking a thumb toward his brother.

“Nice to meet you. You can call me Riza if you’d like.”

“Do you want to see our treehouse?” Ed asked abruptly, gesturing up above in the branches, where there was in fact a small wooden fort with a tire swing underneath. “It’s so fun during the day, but Mom never lets us play in it unless there’s an adult around.” He grinned charmingly. Riza was being played.

“It’s already past bedtime,” Al said dutifully, but his pretty golden eyes also lingered on the treehouse.

“How about a quick look,” she said. “I’ve never been in a treehouse before.”

The boys cheered and clambered up the rudimentary ladder. Riza followed, feeling awkwardly tall as she hoisted herself up into the cozy wooden house.

“What’s this?” she asked, holding up a girl’s doll she almost sat on. It reminded her of one she had as a girl.

“Oh, that’s just Winry’s. She uses this during the day when we can’t come out. We’re only allowed to play with her in the evenings,” Ed said matter-of-factly.

“Winry Rockbell? I think I met her on the way here.” She doubted there were two girls with such an unusual name.

“Yeah, that’s her!” Al said excitedly.

The boys showed her around the treehouse like it was a grand house, rather than a small structure Riza couldn’t stand up fully in. The most interesting thing was the obvious remnants of alchemy. It looked advanced, from what she knew, and when she asked them about it, she wished she hadn’t. Alchemists were all the same. They would’ve talked her ear off if Al hadn’t started yawning, reminding her that vampire children slept during the day.

Inspecting the Elric home from the outside, Riza was unsurprised to find all the windows had locked shutters, and as the boys opened the door, they were very careful to only crack it as much as necessary to open it. Riza followed them in, most interested in finding a glass of water before getting to work.

Hohenheim popped his head out a door.

“Did they show you the treehouse?” he asked.

“It was a very nice treehouse,” Riza said, not wanting to get the boys in trouble. “And I’d never been in one. I just had to take a peek.”

A woman with chestnut brown hair and twinkling green eyes appeared beside him.

“Hello, you must be Miss Hawkeye. I hope the boys weren’t keeping you out too late.”

She introduced herself as Trisha Elric before ordering Hohenheim to get some refreshments while she corralled the boys into their bedroom.

Mustang was in the pristine kitchen drinking a glass of wine, looking comfortable at the kitchen table.

“We’ll wait for the boys to go to sleep and then fill you in,” Hohenheim said, offering her a glass of water and a plate of cheese and crackers.

By the time Riza had eaten and freshened up in the bathroom, Trisha had joined them at the table.

“The boys are asleep. They—they know a little about Van’s sire, but we don’t want to frighten them,” Trisha said, grasping her husband’s hand.

“While I don’t anticipate any real danger to the boys or Trisha, I would feel better if another vampire alchemist was with them while I was gone. And I requested Hawkeye because we need someone who can go into the daylight like our sons, just in case.” Hohenheim said.

Riza wondered what had been in the letter he mentioned earlier, and why it had made him bring outsiders into his family home after all this time. Not just any outsiders, the Flame Alchemist and the Hawk’s Eye. Riza was sure he had others he could trust equally, and while she was touched by his trust in them, she knew they had been chosen for their considerable skills. Even though Hohenheim didn’t expect danger, if there was any, it sounded like he wanted to be prepared for it to turn deadly.

After discussing Hohenheim’s plans, Trisha showed Riza and Mustang around the house while Hohenheim went to make some last preparations.

“You’re welcome to anything in the kitchen,” Trisha said. She tilted her head, glancing between Riza and Mustang before she asked, “Will you be needing blood, Roy?”

“I knew I’d be roughing it, so I overindulged last night,” he replied. It should hold him over, as long as he didn’t exert himself excessively. Riza could guess what Trisha was wondering, but Riza hadn’t given Mustang blood since the first time. She had an agreement with Mustang that she was a delicacy only to be used in emergencies. It had been…too much, the one and only time he’d been at her vein.

“I apologize that all we have is animal blood. I drink it whenever Van is gone,” Trisha said.

Human blood was limited in small villages like Resembool. Riza didn’t have to look at him to know Mustang was mentally groaning. Human blood was not only more nutritious, it tasted better. While Trisha and Mustang could give one another blood, vampires were tetchy about sharing with those in committed relationships.

“Do your sons drink much blood?” Riza asked.

“No, we occasionally add our own to their drinks, but they don’t need much. And Van and I do very well drinking from each other.” Trisha’s cheeks turned rosy. Oh.

They moved onto the sleeping arrangements. “Van said you two have known each other a long time and wouldn’t mind sharing a room,” she said. Trisha looked amused. “But he can be a busybody. So do you mind sharing the study? Otherwise we can put one of you up in the living room.”

Riza looked at Mustang, who only raised an eyebrow as if to say it was her decision. She’d either look like a prude or like she was sleeping with her boss.

“We can share,” she said. “I’d take the couch, but I don’t want to be in the way.” A compromise, she hoped. She really didn’t want to be a bother.

“I promise not to bite,” Mustang said teasingly.

Riza bestowed him with her most unimpressed look while Trisha laughed.

After Trisha left them to get settled for bed—because it was already almost noon and they had been up all night—Mustang couldn’t resist heckling her.

“You know, I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t want to share,” he said quietly, an attempt for them to not be overheard by the family in their rooms. “I could even take the couch.”

“It’s not like I’ll be sleeping much,” she said, realizing too late how that sounded, so she spoke quickly. “I’ll try and keep watch during the day. You can be on duty at night. It’s just a matter of adjusting my sleep schedule.”

“You planning to stay up all day?” he asked, sorting through his luggage. “You’re no good to me half asleep.”

“No, not today. I’ll go to bed earlier tomorrow. Could you wake me if I sleep past sunset?”

“Sure,” he said. “Are you going to wear that godawful thing you wore to bed when we stayed in Dublith?”

Riza scowled. The last time they had to share a room, he’d mercilessly teased her about her nightgown. It was a shapeless, high necked, long-sleeved gown that went down to just below her knees. But it was insanely comfortable, and she didn’t care what Mustang said.

“This one is short sleeved for summer,” she said innocently.

“That’s not better. How old are you, anyway? Eighty?”

He knew very well she was twenty-one.

“I brought an extra one in case you need something to sleep in,” she offered, infusing such sugary sweetness that he wrinkled his nose.

“I should burn it. It’s hideous.”

“It’s just for sleeping in,” she said.

“It makes you look like a stuffy virgin.”

Riza laughed, pulling out her hairbrush.

“I am a stuffy virgin,” she said. “So it’s doing its job.”

She thought nothing of the comment for a brief moment before she realized her blaring mistake. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the constant presence of Mustang since they boarded the train, or the fact that she was still a little in shock over learning Hohenheim had two vampire children, but she had let herself become too comfortable with Mustang. Flirtatious.

Mustang was even more surprised.

“That’s impossible! How did I not know this?” He promptly cleared his throat. “Not that I should know. But…you’ve had several boyfriends.”

She tilted her head, her smile falling.

“I’d rather not show off my body, especially my back, to someone I’m not serious about.” She could never date an alchemist, or anyone untrustworthy who could decipher her tattoo. It limited her prospects, but not as much as the odd hours of her job with Mustang did.

“And now I feel like an ass. I’m going to bed before I put my foot in my mouth again.”

“Probably best for both of us, sir,” she said, disappearing to the bathroom.

Hohenheim left as soon as it was dark, and Roy went up to make sure Hawkeye was awake. He paused outside the door, listening to her heart beating in the languid rhythm of sleep.

He knocked loudly on the door, grinning as her heart jumped awake. Then, because he was a foolish man, he opened the door to make certain she was awake. She stood in a hurry, hair tousled, eyes bleary.

And there was the ridiculous nightgown. This one had touches of feminine ruffles at the shoulders, and looked silky and soft. It was perfectly innocent.

This one, just like the one she’d worn in Dublith, seemed conjured from hell to torture him. He expected Hawkeye to wear something like all the female soldiers of the militia had. They’d been boyish and simple. Bland.

He rarely let himself think of her as anything more than a friend. That stupid nightgown had derailed all professional thoughts. He was itching to hike it up to her hips, revealing more skin inch by inch until—

“Did you need something?” she asked, turning to grab her bag.

“Um, breakfast is being served,” he replied, backing out of the doorway before he said or did anything else moronic.

Downstairs, Roy helped Trisha in the kitchen while they waited for the rest of the household to appear.

“Can you show us some flame alchemy?” A young voice asked from behind him, when breakfast was nearly finished. “Dad says you can set a whole building on fire.”

Roy turned and found the two brothers dressed and bright-eyed. They had the look alchemists get when knowledge is in front of them. Unfortunately, flame alchemy was something he could never teach them. He’d made a promise to Hawkeye.

“I suppose I could give you a quick demonstration if your mom doesn’t mind.”

Trisha laughed. “Sure. I’d like to see it, too.” She leaned back on the counter, watching expectantly.

Roy pulled out his gloves.

“Why do you have the transmutation circles on them?” Ed asked, curious.

Another benefit of becoming a vampire had been losing the need for drawing circles when transmuting.

“They are the original ones from—before,” he explained. “I still need the gloves for the spark, so I’ve kept using them.” Maybe one day when they needed replaced, he would just make them plain white. Then he looked at the boys watching in giddy anticipation. “Do you two need to draw them out?”

“We still need circles sometimes, but the older we get the less we need them,” Al said.

“I can do without one most of the time now,” Ed bragged.

“But you burn in the sun twice as fast as me,” Al pointed out, sticking out his tongue.

“Perhaps time for the demonstration,” Roy said, then with a snap he created a small flame in his hands, shaping it like a sunflower.

The Elrics ooed and ahhed as Roy did a few fanciful tricks, happy to use his alchemy for something good. He was also honest enough to admit to himself he loved to show off.

Hawkeye appeared and Roy extinguished the flames immediately. She had never outwardly said so, but he suspected she inherited her father’s dislike of showoffs.

“Time for breakfast,” Trisha said.

“Too bad Dad said we can’t ask him to teach us any flame alchemy,” he heard Ed mutter to his younger brother.

Roy would have to remember to thank Hohenheim for that later.

As they ate breakfast, the boys made a grand case for running to see their friend Winry before she had to go to bed. On this, Roy allowed Trisha to decide, and she practically pushed Roy and Hawkeye out the door with her children. He got a strong feeling she wanted time to herself.

“So you haven’t been able to go out much lately?” Hawkeye asked the boys, full of sympathy as they cut through a grassy field.

“Not during the day,” Al said forlornly.

“But Mom said we could invite Winry over to the treehouse either this afternoon or in the morning— since Riza’s here.” Ed looked hopefully at Hawkeye.

“That’s up to Mustang,” she said.

“That should be fine,” Roy agreed easily. The boys cheered and began plotting all the games they would play. Kids should be kids, Roy thought, and the treehouse was right in the front yard.

The Rockbell home was busy winding down for the night when they arrived, but they welcomed the boys and their escorts in with kindness.

Yuriy and Sarah Rockbell asked after Trisha.

“She stayed home to relax,” Hawkeye explained, doting on the family dog. Typical Hawkeye. If there was a dog, she could not resist making friends with it.

“I don’t blame her,” Yuriy confided. “Those boys probably talk even in their sleep. Winry is the same.”

“It’s good she has friends her age nearby,” Hawkeye said. “It’s a talkative age.” Her comment brought Roy back to little Riza Hawkeye growing up a little neglected and lonely in her father’s house. He’d once found her telling her dog about her day at school. After that, Roy made an effort to ask about her studies, and even then it had been like pulling teeth to get her to speak to him. Maybe what she’d needed was friends her own age, not an awkward teenage boy.

Granny Pinako shoved a bunch of sweets at them all, drawing Roy from his memories, and Winry brought some of her automail prototypes to show her friends. Now Roy understood why they were friends with the girl—she was as clever as they were.

“How am I supposed to know if it’s any good?” Ed asked her.

“Can’t you feel how light it is? But it’s still very durable!” she told him crossly.

“I think you should let me transmute some skulls on it. Make it look cooler,” Ed suggested, and their arguing turned into some kind of game of chase around the house with Al and even the dog joining in. It gave the adults a chance to talk.

“Of course we know you by reputation, Flame Alchemist,” Sarah said, once they got past the watered down version for why Roy and Hawkeye were bodyguards to two pre-pubescent boys.

“We were volunteers for the militia ourselves,” Yuriy said. “We appreciate everything you did for our country.”

Roy heard the genuine feeling in his words, but it left a bitter, crawling sensation behind. His mind went to that night, his body operating without his control, burning everything—and everyone—in sight. Hawkeye had rightfully put him down like the monster he was, though he wished the responsibility had fallen to someone else.

“Not to bring up troubling memories,” Yuriy added. “We just wanted to thank you.”

“We owe you just as much thanks,” Hawkeye said, recovering quicker than Roy. “There were more injuries than a bit of vampire blood could fix.” And many of the vampires tired of the chore, although Roy had never minded. He had always wanted to help others, and now in his veins he carried a gift to heal injuries more easily than alchemy.

“It was the least we could do. We know the good that vampires can do. Hohenheim saved my mother’s life,” Yuriy said, nodding at Pinako. “And this was fifty years ago,” he grinned, lightening the mood.

“How old is Hohenheim anyway?” Hawkeye asked.

“Old as dirt,” Ed yelled from across the room, laughing at his own joke.

Later, with promises to send Winry over in the morning, they left with two very hyperactive kids. It was in this excitement they showed their supernatural traits most. The boys played a game of leapfrog that was more like two leaping leopards. The boys never would have stayed under the radar in a busy city, but the country fields were vacant except a few bleating sheep.

“You can run ahead with the boys if you want,” Hawkeye said. “I can tell they are dying to run home faster than my human pace.”

“They probably walk slowly for the Rockbell girl all the time,” Roy said.

“Actually, we carry her,” Ed said. He skidded to a stop in front of Roy, uprooting clumps of grass in the process. “She’s not heavy and she likes to go fast.”

“Why don’t you give Riza a ride?” Al chimed in, joining them. “I bet you could jump over the sleeping sheep faster than we can!” Then he promptly looked panicked as Ed elbowed him. “Please don’t tell our mom about sheep jumping.”

“Sheep jumping?” Roy grinned wickedly. He thought of little Riza Hawkeye who hadn’t known how to enjoy herself. It was never too late, was it? “Come on, Hawkeye. Brace yourself.” He tossed her over his shoulder before she could protest.

“Did you like sheep jumping?” Al asked Riza eagerly as they came to the last bend before their house. Riza’s feet were happily on the ground again.

“I think it would’ve been more fun if I hadn’t been upside down,” she said, glaring at Mustang who pretended to fix his hair—which was no messier than usual.

“Yeah, we carry Winry piggyback,” Al agreed.

“It’s best to always ask before throwing a woman over your shoulder,” Mustang said. “Next time I will ask. Probably.”

“To be fair, it was fun,” Riza said. And if she’d wanted him to put her down, she would have made him do it. There was something to running fast, though she could have done with less jostling.

Trisha welcomed them back, and everyone scattered. Riza went to familiarize herself with the property while Roy did the same at vampire speed. Riza would have to do another circuit in the daylight to cover her bases.

Beginning her struggle to change her internal clock, Riza went to bed hours before sunrise, long before the vampires in the household. In Central, this was usually when she woke up for the day, but after pulling a couple of late nights, she fell into a heavy sleep.

When Mustang woke Riza, at first, she thought it was for her turn to take watch, but his posture was too urgent.

“Someone’s outside,” he said. “Get some clothes on. Come downstairs.”

Trisha and the boys were gathered in the living room with Mustang when Riza came down. She’d pulled on the clothes she wore yesterday in record time.

“You two do not leave this room unless I say so,” Trisha was saying, more fierce than Riza had heard her yet.

It was well past sunrise. Mustang and Trisha were captive to the house.

“I think there’s a fire right against the front door,” Mustang said, addressing Riza. As he spoke, she could suddenly smell the smoke. “If I stand back, you can open the door and I can take care of it.”

Riza nodded and walked to the door, her gun in one hand. Smoke seeped in through the thin cracks around the door. Riza waved at Mustang, his gloves at the ready, but he was hidden around the corner in the shadows.

The doorknob was too hot to touch, so she grasped it with the hem of her shirt. Unlatched, the door slammed open, a stack of firewood tumbling toward her. She jumped back against the wall as it blew a wave of heat into the house before Mustang smothered it with a crackle in the air.

“I hear someone out there,” Mustang warned.

Kicking the burnt wood out of the way, Riza stomped out of the house, eyes squinting in the bright sun.

The horror at seeing Yuriy Rockbell’s vacant blue eyes staring at her distracted her just a moment too long to avoid the knife in his hand.

The smell of Hawkeye’s spilled blood permeated the house, mixing with the fumes from the smoke. It was too bright to look. Roy’s eyes already ached from putting out the fire, but he had heard her gasp in surprise before she grunted in pain.

He snarled, almost lunging to the door when Trisha yanked him back.

“You’ll burn,” she said simply. “Edward—”

Ed rounded the corner, Trisha restraining him by the shirt so he couldn’t run out of the house.

“It’s Dr. Rockbell!” Ed said darkly. “He’s compelled.”

The sounds of scuffling continued.

“I have his weapon,” Hawkeye panted. “If Ed and Al can help me—”

Al darted out, followed by Ed—whose shirt ripped as he escaped his mother’s grasp.

A moment later the boys dragged Yuriy into the living room. Trisha tore into her wrist, giving him her blood while simultaneously compelling him to calm.

Hawkeye stumbled in next, clutching her abdomen, dripping with mouthwatering blood. There were also several deep gashes on her arms.

Roy’s fangs went to his wrist, pulling her against him in one swift motion. He held his dripping wrist to her lips, which she kept firmly closed.

“Riza,” he said gently. “Don’t make me compel you into drinking this. You need it.”

At last, she parted her lips and latched onto him, eyes closing as she sucked. Roy watched her throat flex as she swallowed, the warmth of her mouth and the subtle flick of her tongue on his skin delivering sensuous shivers down his spine.

As his blood joined with her body, a strange possessiveness he couldn’t explain came over him. He only knew he wanted to sink his fangs into her neck.

“Feel better?” he asked, hoping to distance himself. His own thirst was growing. He’d have to dig into the stash of animal blood after all. She’d taken more than he expected.

Hawkeye withdrew, a little blood dribbling down her chin, which she licked.

Roy’s fangs ached with the need to bite, but he forced himself to look over her injuries. Only faint marks remained of what was visible. The boys brought a first aid kit and a wet cloth to wash the blood off, so Roy left Hawkeye with them while he went to speak to Yuriy. He looked dazed, slumped over on the couch while Trisha patted his back.

“Is she all right?” the doctor asked him, looking worriedly at Hawkeye.

“She’s doing better,” Roy answered, probably not as kindly as he should have. He reminded himself it wasn’t Yuriy’s fault. “How are you?”

Yuriy rubbed his arm. “She broke my arm—understandably—but it’s healing as it should. I think it was a clean break.” He sighed heavily.

“Do you remember being compelled?” he questioned.

“It was a woman. Dark hair, very pretty.” Yuriy grimaced. “I was letting the dog out before bed and she was outside the house, waiting. She wanted me to get—” his eyes went to where Ed and Al were doting on Hawkeye.

“I see,” Trisha said, folding in on herself. “They were just baiting Van to leave.”

Roy nodded in quiet agreement. His sire wanted to collect those boys, and he had sent one of his followers to retrieve them. The woman who compelled Yuriy would surely try again.

“We need to leave—tonight,” Roy said.

#royai #royai AU #vampire roy mustang #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #FMA #Fullmetal Alchemist #fanfic #roy mustang x riza hawkeye

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tonyglowheart · 3 years

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This entire thing is a rant, feel free to ignore it, but I saw your post about how destiel fans can’t win in this context, and yeah. So have some rambles.

I’ve been thinking about the fact we (current spn/destiel fans) can’t win all night... I’ve seen so many people talking about how homophobic it is - and while I would very much like to argue, as every point I’ve seen made by a non-spn fan has been wrong so far, if I did everyone inside the fandom would agree and everyone outside would either call me straight or pity me for believing it’s okay.

(Cas wasn’t even sent to hell lmao. He was sent to angel death (the empty), a place he has escaped in the past. Other points, like that meta about spn has been predicting exactly this for months, that Dean ended up sobbing on the floor because he was so upset, like that death means next to nothing on spn, like that there is two episodes left, etc etc. you feel me right? I just don’t want to post wank to other spn blogs atm, we’re getting enough frustration as it is, no need to add to it.

It’s also worth pointing out that the bar is very, very low. Spn is a prominent TV show - not a Netflix show, or indie, or whatever - and it just said “main character in gay love saved the world”. [insert gif of ghostfacers dude saying that gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day here]

I just saw someone saying that spn having Naomi try to brainwash Cas out of loving dean makes spn homophobic (it is a conversion therapy parallel). My first response to that is that Naomi was the villain lmao? I guess we can’t write villains doing anything homophobic because having villains do homophobic things makes, uh - checks notes - villains look homophobic, and clearly we can’t have that.

There certainly are legitimate things to criticise spn about, but this isn’t it lol.

Also now some people are unironically trying to cancel Jensen because “his acting was homophobic, and so he’s clearly homophobic”, nevermind that he’s an actor and his character struggles with understanding his emotions (which I think he played excellently, myself. That scene had a very Dean delayed emotional response), nevermind the support he’s given to us queers in the past. Like. Idek man.

We would have been laughed at if we got no destiel, too.

It would have been worse, had the writers pulled a dumbledore. At this point I also trust the writers not to pull a GoT - they have explicitly criticised that ending in spn’s canon.

Spn’s writers did that by making the main villain of this season, Chuck / God, say GoT had a good ending. To reiterate a previous point I had: villains do bad things because they’re bad. And the bad things they do make them bad. For the people out there not still following, if someone does something in a story and it makes them a villain, that is explicitly telling you the story (and probably the writers) thinks that thing is bad. In this case, Chuck likes to write things for him, and we the audience have been shown and told that is bad.

Apparently thinking a gay confession is good in 2020 makes me straight. Seems unlikely, but whatever. Sorry for the length, I guess I went overboard, I’ve been holding it in lol. Anyway, DESTIEL IS CANON 💚💙 hope you have a good night

Helloo supernatural anon I hope you are living your best life right now. Yeah I’m like..... skeptical and leery myself but having lived through some absolute garbage discourse that is general purity wank, as well as the C/QL greater fandom here and on Twitter I find myself... much more wanting to question the “general wisdom” of things esp in terms of negativity, bc a lot of the time I find.... it’s wrong? Like so wrong. Or at least presents such an incomplete picture of the whole situation and also presents it in such a removed context that words that have meaning and are operationalized in a certain way for a reason, no longer have meaningful usage.

Anyway I don’t... know too much about the specifics of Spn but someone I follow is into it and talks a lot about the Gnostic stuff and that all was very fascinating to me, and I also have been grappling a lot with cultural Christianity bc of cmedia and the way ppl just *clenches fist* unthinkingly or uncritically slap some Christian norms on it and call it a day 😩 help I’m Tired. My thing here being... I actually got tired of the uncritical “superhell”s at some pt bc I am, in fact, incredibly exhausted with cultural Christianity, and because it does seem like, even possibly(?) without the Gnostic stuff it’s different from a “hell” or other Protestant-derived afterlife concept, and also yeah that it wasn’t seeded out of nowhere, it was set up to happen, which then... lends credence to the idea that whatever the current era of Spn is doing, the current showrunners are doing it with purpose.

And idk I just... refuse to believe the concept that ALL of the fans of Spn - esp the ones who have been following it still, or got back into it and are following it currently, are acting under delusion or are fooling themselves into liking it or thinking it’s good or whatever. I personally find that kinda infantilizing and patronizing and playing into issues of dismissing things women and/or other marginalized identities like.

Plus I find the concept that (from what I think I’ve been seeing Spn fans say) that the current era of the show is quite actively grappling with itself, its past, its legacy. to be very interesting and compelling; it hearkens back to like an old lore kind of feeling, of a thing that has grown into a nigh undefeatable monster and realizing that, also realizing that the only way to defeat itself is through grappling with its own nature and transforming and transmuting itself into something else. I personally find that more plausible and compelling than “Supernatural has been actively and continuously queerbaiting for 15 homophobic homophobic years., so right now we’re all very sorry for you because this maybe is no longer queerbaiting but it’s still homophobic and it can never be anything different ever.” I’ve been sort of tangentially aware of Spn thru the years and didn’t we agree, around the time of that in-universe play about Spn and with the lil Destiel shoutout, that Spn has come a ways as far as coming to terms with its fandom and working to treat its fans better? Why the sudden regression into “oh no, Supernatural is and forever will be homophobic and a hate crime”? 🤔

The rest under a cut bc the ask is already long and then my rambling will get longer-

But yeah I mean..... I get that the legacy of Supernatural has been certifiably Rough, but I think people also forget how different of a time 2005 was? Hell, how different of a time 2015 was, even, prior to, say, Obergefell v. Hodges. Now I’m not saying that to blanket-excuse Supernatural, but like, you look at mainstream shows from the era and... there’s a lot of shit lmao. The fact that Supernatural has existed this long seems to me like.... maybe we CAN look at how it’s developed through the years vs just insisting it is what it was 15, 10, hell, 5 years ago. Especially since, to my knowledge, there’s been showrunner changes? Which seems to me like it would... affect things? I mean honestly, I remember back when I got into Spn for a hot second because of Castiel, I remember watching panel, Q&A, etc vids thru the years, and like... I thought we agreed that... it was the fans who were going a bit far pushing the shipping question like literally ALL the time to the actors, who are not in control of the show and.... like at the time.... that could have had personal implications for them? And yes homophobia bad, and people can still be allies despite that, but again like.... I do feel like - from what I’ve seen - that these guys were NOT ready to deal with a lot of that but they’ve (okay Jensen I’m talking about Jensen here) genuinely grown and learned? Also how many years ago was the essay autograph thing that people keep trotting out, like what year was it in and what year of spn was it, and what were the prevailing opinions on LGBT issues and bisexuality then.

I’ve been seeing some murmurings of identity politicsing surrounding ppl who enjoy Supernatural, and I’m sorry that that’s happening to you, it really fucking sucks and it’s also the dumbest way to “make” or “win” an argument because it shouldn’t ever be a final determiner, just factors to consider when considering what life experiences might have informed someone else’s PoV and views as well as maybe how you can better communicate with them. Instead of it being a “weapon” or “tool” to either dismiss someone or de facto validate an argument.

Also yeah I get it that you don’t want to send discourse to spn blogs bc I imagine you guys ARE actively grappling with all the bs rn and it’s a lot. Even just from like, the stuff I see around, I’m like tired of it. I’m genuinely having more fun with ppl who are having a good time with Supernatural than the ppl who are hating on it, even in this sort of backhanded “oh we’re not clowning YOU we’re clowning the writers and showrunners who think you should be satisfied with this,” when... yeah? the people who HAVE been watching the show and therefore... know what’s up.. DO seem to be? And all this based on *fake gasp* context. And that’s where the backhandedness becomes kind of poisonous to me, because it implies that it IS bad, and that you SHOULDN’T be satisfied, but poor little you are but don’t worry, we’re not making fun of YOU for liking garbage, you’re just the hapless victim who is consuming the garbage bc... idk, whatever reasons ppl are coming up with ig.

idk man it’s 2020. Fandom isn’t activism, performative or otherwise, it’s okay to let people enjoy things even if you think they’re “objectively” bad, and like... I don’t know if people can call something bad when they’re not even working with the whole context and instead are dealing with rumor and reputation.

#supernatural cw #I tag this for ppl who I know want nothing to do with spn rn and are blacklisting and so it doesn't end up in main tag #Anonymous #asks answered #long post

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adventure-hearts · 4 years

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20th Anniversary = 20 questions (Day 14 / 21)

FEB 14: FAVOURITE SHIP / OTP

All right. I know what is expected of me. Time to give one for the team.

*cracks knuckles*

It’s a strange time to be a Sora/Yamato fan. Just when everyone had kind of grown out of the shipping wars and when most have accepted that the Epilogue outcome was going nowhere, we got new canon that ended up challenging many people’s expectations and not paying too much attention to the ship. The Result: some of the people who are more invested in the canon portrayal of Sorato are the ones that were left more disappointed.

But this isn’t going to be a discussion of the “Highschool is Complicated!” approach that tri. (and so far, Kizuna’s promo) have taken. No, fam, this is a good old-fashioned analysis about why this ship freaking works.

I’ve been uninspired lately, and it’s been a while since I wrote a proper, long Sora/Yamato analysis. Consider this post a sequel to my very first meta, one of the very first things I wrote when I started AH. You can also check the sorato / soraxyamato tags to read few smaller pieces I’ve written since.

I think it’s time to move on from the whole “here’s 97699 hints and foreshadowing you missed in the original series”. By now, everyone knows the appeal of the couple is based on their parallel journeys, the symbolism of the crests, the perfect balance that it gives to the triangle, their similar yet compatible personalities... I don’t feel the need to keep justifying it or trying to convert people.

For the Kizuna Countdown, I’m going to write a few words about Yamato and Sora’s mutual understanding and uncanny empathy for each other, focusing in particular on the portrayal of their relationship in tri., and even more specifically about their scene in Chapter 6, which, is to my mind, one of the best canon Sora/Yamato scenes we ever got in canon. I’ve actually written briefly about it before, but I’m just going to analyze it again, because it’s such a perfect moment of shipping bliss.

It is my contention that tri. didn’t give us much, but the little it did give was spot on.

The scene takes place early in Chapter 6, after Taichi’s disappearance. Yamato has assumed the role of the leader and is making sure the group moves forward and keeps fighting, in spite of what happened. However, although he is acting calm and pragmatic and determined, other feelings lurk inside. For a split second, Yamato drops his mask and looks back at the mountain where Taichi went missing, and his true feelings emerge to the surface.

Everyone else seems oblivious to this moment of vulnerability. Except for Sora. Yamato tries to hide it, embarrassed that she caught him, but eventually relents. This shit doesn’t work with her. While everyone moves on, Yamato and Sora stay back to have a one-on-one.

At this point, I have to address the elephant in the room, which is that tri. makes zero acknowledgment of the current relationship status of these two, or even about whatever happened between them during 02.

Is this a scene between boyfriend and girlfriend? (tri. surely peppered the episodes with enough material not to completely erase this interpretation — arriving together all time, etc.). And if they’re not together, do they have a romantic history? Did the 02 fling go nowhere? Are they exes? Who broke up with whom? (lbr, Sora did.) Are there lingering feelings between them? (This, I will argue, is obvious — from Yamato’s side, at least)

The fact is we don’t know the answers to any of these pertinent questions. It’s let to the viewers to imagine the background of the relationship according to their own interpretations. It’s a bad writing decision, obviously. But I believe that, despite of this uncertainty, this scene still works wonderfully to establish and develop why Sora/Yamato makes so much sense.

Back to the scene. Sora doesn’t even need to ask Yamato what’s up. She immediately knows what is going to his head. In fact, she is the one who verbalizes what he doesn’t dare to. Yamato is surprised that she read through him so well.

Then Sora decides to do the most “unhealthily-Sora-thing” she can do. She tells Yamato he can go find Taichi, if he wants to, and that everyone else will be fine. It’s obviously not true. Sora is putting Yamato’s emotional needs first, ignoring her own. She knows that the whole “let’s save our tears for later and fight on” is something he’s doing for the sake of others, not necessarily what his heart wants him to do.

But Yamato doesn’t even think twice. He immediately reaffirms his choice. He’s not leaving the group at this crucial time, when he has a job to do. It’s the right thing to do, it’s what Taichi would want. Yet, he is conflicted. Part of him is pulling in the opposite direction, as his natural instinct (his Crest, remember?) is pulling him towards his friend. The fact that Yamato is making a decision with his head rather than with his feelings is a huge sign of growth for him. But it’s a tough choice, and he’s not immune to the inner conflict and the responsibility of stepping into Taichi’s shoes, as later scenes in the episode will show.

Sora is reaction to this is just The Best. She doesn’t judge. She gets it. After all — and every tri. scene is always echoing what came before, always sending us back to moments in the previous series — this has happened before. Once, it was Sora who made a different choice. She was the one who left to find Taichi, and the group suffered (as did she, who had to be alone with her grief). At another point, Yamato also left the group — not to find others, but to find himself. Then, Sora was the one who provided reassurance and who understood why he needed to go. This is to show that, if anyone understands the urge to leave, it’s Sora. She’s giving Yamato permission to make a different choice, taking the pressure off his shoulders. So that when he decides to stay, it’s much more powerful.

Sora then decides to open up. She’s very cautious about it, but she ends up admit she’s struggling with all the loss they’ve been experiencing lately. Yamato admits he feels the same.

This a pretty vulnerable moment for Sora. As previously established, she’s one of the characters who represses her emotions the most, preferring to focus on others instead of herself. In such a moment of crisis, of course she’s doing her best to hide her fears. She’s far from an optimist, but her job is to keep morale up, to reassure others. So, for her to expose her own doubts to someone else is also a big step.

I’d just like to point out that the framing of this scene is really interesting. Next time you’re watching it, notice where the characters stand at the beginning and at the end.

When Sora starts talking about her feelings to Yamato, their backs are turned to each other. She’s looking at the mountain behind them, he’s staring at the goggles in his hand. Taichi is on both of their minds, as their pain about his disappearance rise to the surface. This is a point when each of them is kind of lonely in their own grief.

But when Sora asks if Taichi is dead, Yamato turns around immediately, focusing on her. She doesn’t want to believe he’s dead, but she doesn’t want to fool herself either. You can feel her despair at the moment, so carefully controlled until now.

Then Sora turns to him, tears in his eyes. A pretty vulnerable moment for both, when every pretense is dropped. They are facing each other, now.

And Yamato just… gives her the most affectionate smile ever.

Smiling! When she’s crying! I can hear some people sharpening their pitchforks as we speak. Our Yamato would never respond so callously to her pain! Just go and hug her, you big dork!

But think for a second.

Yamato gets that she isn’t asking him a question, not really. She’s just telling him how she feels. Yamato gets that trusts him enough to drop the mask that everything is okay. He gets that doesn’t necessarily expect him to lie or to comfort her… she just needed him to listen.

Flashback to Chapter 4: Sora’s complaint was that she wasn’t listened to, that her feelings weren’t being taken into consideration, that no-one seemed to care. The conflict back then was caused because Yamato and Taichi couldn’t see through her silence, and also because that she would refuse to talk about what was bothering her, and expected others to guess.

But now Yamato has grown, Sora has grown. They got to a place where they feel totally at ease admitting their deepest, darkest feelings to each other. They know the other will listen and empathize.

They’ve reached a moment of pure mutual understanding. Yamato totally gets Sora, is flattered that she trusted him, and he is full of tenderness for her. That’s why he’s smiling.

Yamato just asks if she’s okay and she thanks him, for listening.

By the end of the scene, they are facing each other, a lot closer, looking at each other with adoring eyes affection and trust.

That’s what Piyomon sees when she and finds them together. Piyomon goes into Protective Mother Hen mode and decides to interrupt this lovely moment. To ad insult to injury, he Yamato aghast at the accusation that he would break into “a cheesy love song.” (Would he? HAS HE?)

To sum up, I find this small scene to be a perfect example of why Sora/Yamato is so compelling to me, and why I think tri. (in spite of its issues) was such a wonderful addition to the history of this couple.

The trust and love between them (whether romantic or not) are palpable. Look at Yamato’s smile (and all the looks he gives her during tri.) The boy freaking adores her. Sora is more guarded, but actions speak louder than words. Lots of people complain Yamato and Sora “came out of nowhere” and “have no relationship outside of Taichi”. I redirect you to this scene. There’s history and depth between these two.

The scene also shows that their personalities are different enough to cause friction, but similar enough so that, when they are open and honest enough, they can understand each other’s thoughts and feelings easily and completely, without much need for words. This is important, since both Sora and Yamato aren’t good at expressing their feelings in a healthy and open way, although they are so empathetic and passionate. Yamato and Sora have never been a case of “opposites attract”. Similar personalities can cause their own set of issues, but they can still make for a compelling and fulfilling kind of relationship.

It also explains why gravitate towards one another and why they have what it takes to make each other happy in the future. Yes, they are probably the two people who are more invested in Taichi’s fate and the ones who are more concerned in keeping the group together under these specific circumstances. But who else would see though Yamato’s tough resolve and allow him to confess his inner conflict freely? Who else would let Sora vent out without jumping in with words of empty comfort? (The Digimon partners don’t count!) They give each other exactly what they need, in this specific moment and (one can only imagine) in other similar hard times. They make each other feel safe, understood and, ultimately, loved. Not a bad place to start.

*Dido’s White Flag plays in the distance*

#KizunaCountdown #digimon #sora x yamato #shipping

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londonfog-chan · 4 years

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Glitter Freeze: Kakyoin x Reader Part 2

Spot the Disney references.

“What in the goddamn hell...”

“I... we didn’t think it would affect either of you. But now that we know you’ve manifested, we aren’t so sure.”

You’re not sure what to do. The one who had been holding you when you woke up (the very handsome red head with a bandage on his forehead), was dragged off by your brother to another room. Your mother won’t let you go, she holds you tightly and keeps kissing you and you’re simply too tired to fend her off. And then there’s the issue of Frosty sitting next to you, the woman made of ice with a veil that doesn’t seem to want to let your mother shower you in warm kisses. It turns out the cold was just a cold. It happened before the big disaster, some dude woke up and took the body of one of your descendants, but the thing with the lady made of ice was exacerbated by your sickness. When she woke up, her first instinct was to take care of you. The stranger, Avdol, told you that she hadn’t been working against you completely. She was just a little misguided. Overly emotional, she let her better judgement fall by the wayside and just did what she thought was best at the time. She didn’t understand that she was hurting you instead of helping you. But before his own fiery power could melt the ice, it was Jotaro’s classmate that stepped in, taking you up in his arms while some of his power calmed down yours any way it could. Apparently that involved his own weird dude thing getting frisky with yours.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You look at your grandpa. The lady made of ice honest to god hisses at your mother, pulling you out of her arms and into a frigid embrace. She presses a cool hand to your forehead, your fever is still high enough that you can almost hear the sizzle of her cold hands melting.

“Excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but where the fuck do I even begin to explain what’s wrong?” You growled. “I can think of twenty fucking things off the top of my head. Pick one.”

The porcupine quills are out. You can feel yourself bristle with your usual ice cold attitude. The ice lady (Avdol calls her a Stand and you think that’s the dumbest fucking thing you’ve ever heard) softly hums, clicking her tongue as if she’s rebuking you. Your entire body is shaking, seized by the cold and the fear once again. You found out there actually was frost growing on your skin during the time you were getting cold, frozen fractals were currently blooming on your fingertips whenever the ice woman got particularly upset or felt you were in danger. That would explain why you felt like you had hypothermia. You basically did.

“But for functionality’s sake, let’s start with this bullshit. This is what’s been wrong. I get told I could have fucking died if your friend hadn’t thought it was odd there was ICE creeping out from under my door.” You show them the frost creeping up over your palms, and immediately Avdol approaches.

“Hold out your hands and breathe.” He commands.

It takes a lot for you to hold in the smart ass remark that wants to come out. The ice stand at your side hisses again and seems like she is going to do something to take care of the stranger, but the cold compels you to hold out your shaking hands to Avdol. You’re so tired of this. You want the cold to give way to warmth. This isn’t funny anymore and you want out of this shit.

“I want it to stop.” You hiss.

“I know.” He insists. “Breathe.”

His hands are warm under your palms, he guides your breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Hushing you and calming you down like you’re a toddler about to explode with a tantrum.

“Look.” He speaks and you obey.

Sure enough, you’ll be damned. Your stand calms down, the frost retracting from your hands and returning to being small glittery specks on the tips of your fingers. Miniscule snowflakes, beautiful and each one is completely different from the other in small ways. His breathing technique has worked. Quelling the rage that threatens to boil over in your blood.

“Thank you…” you breathe. “That’s… that’s better. Much better.”

“Honey…”

This time the ice lady lets your mother take your hands in hers, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her gently but firmly nudge someone aside as she pushes past Avdol to get to you. He yields obediently, both his eyes and the eyes of your grandfather tamed on your mother as she breathes her hot breath onto your cold fingers. Jotaro returns, his narrowed gaze on you both. You meet his gaze halfway, daring him without words. You feel like the ice is going to come back but it doesn’t. It seems like there’s someone else watching from his side. Something hidden that you’ve still got that childlike fear of.

It pisses you off that he has the capacity to intimidate you like this, and you hear your Stand hiss under her breath.

“I know you’re probably scared…” your mother’s gentle voice startled you out of your staring contest. “But you’ve got to trust your grandpa. He’s going to help you and your brother, and it’s going to be all better soon. Mommy won’t let anything happen to you either, ok?”

All you can do is let her hold you tightly against her chest. No one says much of anything. The long winded explanation that your grandfather threw at you isn’t even worth the brain power it takes to absorb it all. Vaguely you nod when your mother asks if you’re hungry. Running on autopilot, because the only thing you can think of regarding this whole thing is the fact that Avdol told you there was a good chance you could have died. Your grandfather Joseph doesn’t stay. He’s got to have a talk with Avdol, no doubt it’s a worry about what should happen to your mother. He mentions something about a fighting spirit before they exit the room, and you’re left with your brother.

“… jeez…” he sighs. Annoyed.

Bristling, you think that mother fucker has no right to be annoyed.

“You’re always causing trouble.” He mutters.

“What the fuck did you say?”

He looks at you sharply, but you don’t care. Suddenly you’re bristling again. Porcupine quills out. Ready to scream. That familiar tension in your shoulders builds up, and before you know it you’re shouting at the top of your lungs.

“I was causing trouble?! I was scared you big dumb fucking bitch!”

Despite your anger, you’ve begun openly weeping. Tears fall and your voice cracks as you continue to scream at your brother. Every little miniscule thing. The way he avoided you when you first got sick, and then how he neglected you when there was this horrible thing, like a cancer, building up inside you all this time and you couldn’t even get him to look at you. But that wasn’t anything new. Ever since he grew a few pubes and his balls dropped he treated you like a disease. It never used to be that way. He used to care, he used to walk you to school every day and cut up your katsudon pieces in your bowl because he loved you. He used to fill the void in your heart because your father was never home. Jotaro used to play catch with you, and dress your dollies up and sing to you and make you feel as though life was beautiful and worth living. And these last few days, you felt trapped in your kingdom of isolation.

He stands there unmoving as you let it out. You can’t believe it. He has little to no reaction to your outburst. For once in his miserable life he doesn’t turn the screaming back on you. Are you fucking winning this argument??

“You left me all by myself! I didn’t even have anyone come in to check on me when I was freezing to death all alone in my room! Do you have any idea how scared I was?! I thought I’d been forgotten, especially when I had this fucking dumb thing inside me stifling my screams… Your dumb fucking ass was in the slammer and I was probably going to die and a literal stranger had to be the one to bring me back! Now I think of it, I’m not scared, I’m fucking pissed off! F... FUCK! FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCK!”

The use of the word fuck is like a mantra when you’re arguing with Jotaro. From insults ranging to fucking cunt, fucking pig whore, you’ve called him so many filthy things involving the word fuck that it’s lost all meaning to you. But still, it’s so interesting that you suddenly feel like you’re shouting at two people all by yourself. Your stand has faded away, evidently too scared to face your brother, she lets you scream to your heart’s content because you can feel she’s scared to face the ramifications…

But you could give a shit less.

“You always took care of me... and I kept calling for you and you didn’t come and get me! You fucking promised-”

“ENOUGH!”

Your grandfather is at the door. Before you can continue he bullies your brother silently out of the room and is at your side, holding your trembling shoulders and trying to talk you down from turning the house into Disney on Ice…

You wake up four hours later, exhausted, wrapped in the arms of your grandfather as he snores without a care in the world.

At least you’re not alone, and it’s a double whammy to turn over trying to get up to pee only to accidentally roll onto your mother. Well, you’re certainly not alone anymore. You’re unsure how to feel now, the inner bitch of your soul screams too little too late, but now you realize that they must have heard everything and felt guilty for neglecting you.

Well… you think, It’s sweet but, they’re not the ones I want to feel guilty for this.

It takes a lot of effort. Your Stand comes out in a flurry of cold and you have to really get it under control to prevent your loved ones from waking up, but she does help lift you over their bodies and out the door silently. Her hands are frigid. Icicles pressing against your soft skin as she guides you down the dark hallway and into the bathroom where you sit thinking on the heated toilet for a lot longer than would be necessary. But now that you’re at least having a few moments of clear thought, you can’t help but wonder how the fuck you have anything to do with all this.

You heard your grandpa before he left the room the first time, Her fighting spirit is strong but… What the fuck is he talking about fighting spirit? What the fuck does this have to do with the snowy woman standing in front of you while you take a leak, like this is a group effort and she’s there for moral support? It leaves you with more questions than answers. Maybe if you had fighting spirit you wouldn’t have passed out and missed the entire thing, and then maybe your Stand wouldn’t be hovering over you while you flushed and washed your hands, pushing soap into your palms because you only rinsed.

Better yet, whatever happened to that hunk whose Stand wanted to go to pound town on yours?

“I’m sorry… Did I wake you?”

The voice is so gentle, so sincere. It’s nothing like the sounds you’re used to in the house so it’s startling to hear. It’s coming from the room right across from the bathroom, and when you slide open the door, you see the red head all nice and cozy under his own duvet on a futon.

“Hey.” You murmur. “You didn’t wake me up. Are you ok?”

His head is wrapped in bandages and you kneel down to his level. You’re still in pajamas, an old shirt and overly large pajama pants that once belonged to Jotaro. He’s outgrown so many clothes that you have all these pajamas to steal from him whenever you run out.

“I’m perfectly fine.” He insists. “I… I didn’t mean to impose.”

“Impose on what? You look like you’re just as fucked up as me.” You point to your forehead. “Is that because of your Stand too?”

“No… That comes courtesy of the man who almost made your stand kill you.”

“Dude…” you groan. “Where does this cunt live? Because I’m about to fuck his shit up into next week.”

He is dead silent while you laugh, and you realize that it must be because of your mouth. You blanch when you see his blank face illuminated by moonlight peeking from a crack in his screen door. An uncomfortable silence passes between the two of you. What else can you say? Nothing you have on your tongue seems fit for your ears, and it’s honestly like talking to Grandma Suzi when she ignores you until you clean up your language.

“All your ice is melted.” You huff, looking at the neglected ice pack by his side.

“Yes…”

“Do you… do you want me to fix it?”

I mean… you yourself are an icemaker yeah? Technically?

The hunk takes a while, but eventually nods his consent. Your Stand places her hands on the ice pack. You can hear the crackly squeeze as the water solidifies, and when you place it on his head he sighs in relief.

“Thank you…”

“No… I should be thanking you.”

He looks at you. Even though he’s just as ice cold as you are, those beautiful eyes that greeted you when you woke up hold you tightly in their gaze. He’s intently listening. All of his focus is trained on you. For the first time you feel almost embarrassed that he’s just staring you down.

“You saved me right? I… I remember you kissing me.”

“P-please understand… I didn’t set out to take advantage of you like that.”

He explains that it wasn’t completely him. For some reason, his Stand acted out on its own, clutching yours and lavishing her with affection.

“It was very strange…” he murmured. “For once it didn’t want to destroy. It seemed to want to draw out your Stand, the way she hovered over you, her frosty breath coating you in layers of ice… It was too much.”

“I… Well shit dude… I guess I’d rather thaw out by macking than die alone in my room like a human popsicle.”

Finally, he laughs, and your heart skips a beat because god dammit. He’s just so handsome. Total beef, more defined muscle than your grandfather and brother combined, and his gaze is just so captivating. He has those big puppy dog eyes, and he looks like he could bench press ten of you.

“I don’t hold it against you.” You tell him softly. “I… I was really scared. I could feel like I was slipping away into the cold. I wanted to give up. No one came for me. I couldn’t even cry for my mother… And then you came.”

You smile gratefully at him, swiping at a strand of hair that’s in your face.

“Thank you... um…”

“Noriaki. Kakyoin Noriaki.”

“Thank you, Noriaki-kun, for coming to my rescue.”

Unfortunately you will never know what it does for your features when you smile, and you miss the red dusting across Kakyoin’s cheeks as you exit the room.

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years

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Dragon Dancer Chapter 27: Into the Void

“Do you make your own dances to music?”

Johann and I made our daily morning walk towards the gym. The sun was peeking out from the heavy clouds. They’d let down a heavy downpour but thankfully it let up before our walk. Johann hated walking in the rain.

“I do. I’m no professional choreographer. But I can’t help but make up some steps if the song is compelling enough.” I replied.

“Have you heard of the song ‘Daily Growing’?”

My eyes shifted in thought. “Not off hand. What’s it about?”

Master List

“It’s about a woman promised in marriage to someone ten years younger than she is. Her father thinks it will secure her future because he’s from a noble family.”

I thought he was looking at me, but when I looked up wasn’t. He was an expert at avoiding eye contact.

“If your... if Robbie asked you to do something like that... would you do it?” He asked.

“Maybe... In a way, I feel like I already have. The truth is, part of the reason I went to Cassell was so I could get a lot of money and give back to my family. We’re poor so...” My use of the present tense sent a pang through my chest and I sighed against it. “But even if I wasn’t poor. This is a common thing among hybrids.”

Johann was silent for a moment. “Yes, this was my experience.”

“Well, in that case, I will listen to the song and try to dance it well. On one condition.” I quickened my pace to step in front of him, walking backwards. “You play music. I’ll dance to the music if you play it. I won’t be able to convey the meaning otherwise.”

Before he could answer, he turned toward the Cassell chapel. The building, set up on a high hill, was visible in most areas on campus. Right now, it was surrounded by a tremendous flock of doves. They swirled and dove about in distress, cooing loud enough to hear from a distance.

“Is there a hawk?” I asked.

“No. It means that... someone has died.” His voice was even, quiet and low.

“Is that another tradition?”

“No... it’s a fact.” With just a slight lowering of his eyelids, he conveyed an intense worry.

“Someone you might know?” Lu Mingfei’s face popped into my head.

“There were no missions from the Executive Operations department listed, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Do you need to go check on things? I don’t mind training alone if you need to.”

“No. There’s nothing I can do about it. Let’s just go.” He pulled his eyes from the church and continued. I had no choice but to follow. The bell tolled the hour.

Johann was supposed to be teaching me high kicks. But it was not to be. As soon as we had gotten our equipment set up, he looked past me to the door. A tall dark haired man in a navy blue suit stood at the door, hands behind his back. His dark eyes fixed on me. “Professor Schneider requires your presence.”

I looked up at Johann.

“Not Johann Chu. Only you. Alone.”

I gave a little shake of my head, remembering what happened last time.

“It’s okay. Go on. I’ll wait.” He put a hand on my shoulder, pushing me forward.

“Okay... sorry.” I gave one last glimpse over my shoulder at him. “I’ll be right back.”

I followed the agent to the Executive Operations department and we descended an elevator into the third basement level. “This area is top secret. Anything you hear here cannot be shared with anyone. Violations will result in severe consequences. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

EVAs voice came through the elevator. “Logged.”

The door opened. “Lu-Senpai!” I’d never been so happy to see him. Mine was the only smile.

Professor Guderian, Professor Schneider, Professor Manstein, Principal Anjou... there were no students here. These were all older people. We were the only ones. I took a step closer to Lu, my hand finding his.

Principal Anjou leaned against his desk. “We just lost a dozen people. The situation is critical. A dimensional rift has opened up in Siberia and a dragon’s heartbeat was detected. The team investigating vanished immediately. We have never, in all our history, seen a signature like this.”

“This is the last transmission from the team.” He turned to press play on the recording.

Voices from people I didn’t know. “Have you seen writing like this? This is… completely unrecorded.”

“ We’re submitting as many photos as we can!” The screen in front of us blinked on and I immediately turned away to avoid reading anything.

“The technology attached to these glyphs. What was it used for…?”

“Dragon heartbeat detected! Dead ahead! Retreat!”

“Where did it come from? There was nothing here!”

“Radioactivity levels are rising! This is dangerous! We need to g-”

Silence.

I turned my face into Lu’s shoulder to make sure I didn’t see anything.

“I’m afraid this is all the information I can give you. They were investigating the ruins discovered weeks ago and unearthed a dragon palace under the mountain, older than we have ever seen.”

“That dragon must be eliminated. But it is an unknown threat. Therefore, we are giving this mission an X designation. S-grade levels only.”

I slowly turned my head to look, making sure to keep my eyes to the floor in case the screen was still on.

“I’m not going to lie to you. This is as much about revenge as it is about investigation.” Anjou’s voice was taut with fury and pain. “Destroy the dragon, destroy his palace. We have enough trouble with four lords. We have no need of invasion from a fifth!”

“You’ll be outfitted with the strongest munitions from the Gear Department to get the job done. This mission is top secret. No communication from outside will be permitted from henceforth. You are to leave immediately.”

“At least let me tell Johann not to wait for me.” I pleaded.

“That will be a negative.” Schneider responded, nodding to the person who had escorted me.

The escort held out one black gloved hand. “We’ll be confiscating your phones and issuing you ones specifically for this mission,” the man said.

I handed over my phone and the agent placed it in a black box. Lu Mingfei did likewise. He was remarkably calm through this, but his hand was tightly squeezing mine.

“Lu Mingfei, we’ll be sending you the map of the known area. We’ll be trusting in you to find the dragon king and destroy it.” Anjou continued.

“Yes sir.”

“Dismissed, and … Godspeed.”

Another agent, female, approached and handed us our new devices. “Just say your name into them.”

“Lu Mingfei.” His device immediately turned on and recognized him as a user.

I stared at the phone. Johann’s voice echoed in my head, his face flashing in a memory. “Meixiu…”

The phone came on.

Lu blinked. “Eh? I thought you were Charlotte?”

My lip trembled and I swallowed hard. “That’s my English name.”

We took the elevator again and this time went up, all the way to the roof. The door opened to the buffeting wind of a large helicopter with two rotors that was already waiting for us. “Mingfei!” I shouted.

He looked down at me, giving me a thumbs up. He tried to talk but he couldn’t be heard above the engine noise.

We immediately lifted off, hovering over the college and speeding off in an unknown direction. Lu pulled up the map on his phone.

“Hey… Meixiu… or Charlotte? Which do you prefer?”

“Meixiu is my S-class secret name. You can call me that if we’re alone.” I replied. “Johann gave it to me. While I was dead.”

“It’s a good name for you.” He gave me a kind smile.

“Thanks.” My smile felt taut. “So what are we looking at?”

He nodded to me once. “To be honest. I have no idea. They said it's a palace, but usually palaces for dragons are like mazes. They can change shape with moving walls and traps. The prior team probably triggered something and the dragon attacked. We’ll have to be prepared for anything.”

He continued. “You’re not experienced so I’ll tell you. Only people with pure dragon blood can enter dragon palaces. Because this palace is so ancient, it might not recognize the blood of hybrids that aren’t S-class… S-class is the strongest but also the oldest bloodline. That’s why it's so rare.”

“I see. Is that why I was able to open the doors to the last palace?” I asked.

“That’s right. And it was probably why you were chosen for that mission too.” He met my eyes. “This is something only we can do. But we can do it. You’ve been training a lot with Johann. So… you’ll be even better than before.”

I leaned back crossing my arms.. “Since when were you so cool, Mingfei. I remember you crying about drowning in a submarine.”

A blush colored his cheeks. “A lot has happened… since you were gone.” He glanced at the pilot. “I’ll tell you when we’re alone.”

The stress made my stomach roil and I was sick the whole helicopter ride. I let Mingfei read me the mission briefing so I wouldn’t get even more nauseous. After the disaster with the dragon waking in the lab and then my strong reaction to the strange machinery attached to the beast, they dated the tech at around 10,000 years old, deep within the reign of the Dark King and perhaps predating the Light King.

They were in a hurry to unlock these mysteries when the team disappeared.

We arrived at another airport and switched immediately to a plane. We were also outfitted with our supplies, including the explosive. The plane took to the air toward Siberia, chasing the west-bound sun.

With no access to the internet, no access to music or video games, Lu picked up a piece of paper. He wrote something on it.

“We’re probably being watched and listened to on this plane so… maybe not share S-class secrets.”

I gave him a thumbs up.

“So you’re doing okay?” He asked outloud.

“Yeah, I’m alright! I mean.. At least I was this morning… Geez…” I let out a breath.

“Oh I’m glad. You… made quite a splash at the school lately.” He chuckled. “Maybe even more than I did coming here.”

“Oh if you’re talking about gossip? I don’t pay any attention to that. No time.” I forced myself to relax in my seat.

“That’s good. People are obsessed with you. They follow you around a lot. I’m sure Johann keeps a lot of stuff from you too.”

“Like what?” I looked up at him, crossing my arms.

“I uh... “ He rubbed the back of his neck.

“No, I wanna know what they’re saying about him!”

“Well… I mean, things really didn’t get crazy until Johann got suspended. Someone got the idea that the reason wasn’t really because Johann was late getting you back, they… thought you two had slept together and got caught.”

My jaw dropped. “For real?”

“Johann didn’t really say anything after that. I think maybe he hoped the rumor would go away but uh… It didn’t.” Lu winced.

“He shouldn’t have to say anything. Anyone who knows him should know…” I crossed my arms and looked away.

“And I know you didn’t mean it but… you’re pretty much hated in the Student Union after what happened with Caesar.”

“Big whoop!” I stared out the window. “Screw him and his club.”

“It is… kind of a big deal. Caesar bankrolls every other student association in this college. Only a few are free functioning.”

My arms tightened around my chest. I rested my head against the cold glass.

He took a breath and broke the news to me. “You’re pretty much… locked out of everything on campus.”

I closed my eyes.

“Caesar didn’t tell people to do that, but you saw how crazy some people are about him. Caesar…” He hesitated. “He wouldn’t allow them to threaten you. But he’s not going to tell them to like you. At this point, Lionheart is your only option for any club activities.”

“I’m just on a plane about to die for these idiots.” I said hoarsely “Maybe if I die, they can piss on my grave.”

“Hey! Don’t talk like that!” He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me away from the window “Don’t.”

I lowered my eyes. “Sorry.”

“Johann’s waiting for you back home. He… He already lost you once.”

“Sorry…” I whispered.

He let go of me. “I’m sorry I told you.”

“No… I needed to know. I’ll just start my own club then. If that’s how it’s going to be. Club S.”

He chuckled. “Just you in it?”

“Unless you wanna join?” I shrugged.

“I’ll… consider it. But it would be us against the entire school!”

“Compared to what?” I gave a single bitter laugh.

“Point taken.” He huffed through his nose.

Day turned to night. We got as much sleep as we could. From the Siberian airstrip we took another helicopter to the archeological dig site, a sprawling camp in front of a large cave in a mountainside. As soon as we landed we were ushered off the flight to the entrance and suited up. We weren’t going in through the entrance of the cave but a large hole bored straight through solid rock.

“You’ll be descending nine hundred feet! Once you get down there you’ll be right at the entrance of the palace!” The man, his face ringed by a fur hood, had to shout over the winds blowing in our faces. He shoved a bulky backpack in Lu’s hands.

“Is this a parachute?” Lu finally cracked, fear showing.

“It’s the fastest way to get you in! When it’s time to come back up we’ll toss you down a flying drone!”

“You expect us to jump into that giant hole?”

“We can’t put in spelunking equipment with a dragon down there! The chute opens automatically on a timer. Pull the cord and jump!”

He looked at me, eyes wide. Then he straightened up and smiled. “Okay, I guess that’s the way it is!”

I was harnessed to Lu, holding onto the equipment, and had a front row seat as we approached the yawning void. I was whimpering and near tears.

“Okay, jumping… One… two… three!” He pulled the cord and leaped.

Both of us screamed all the way down.

#Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Johann Chu #Lu Mingfei #Caesar Gattuso

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beneaththetangles · 4 years

Text

Mr. Gorbachev, Tearmoon Down This Wall!

I’ve always been plagued by endlessly recurring thoughts about how I’m a bad stupid sinful selfish lazy arrogant rude useless ugly fat disrespectful hardhearted unlovable disgusting et cetera person. The name for this phenomenon is shame, and for me and many others, it’s a result of having been abused. I previously discussed how I Refuse to Be Your Enemy!, vol. 1, contained a profound depiction of an abuse victim. That post has a fuller discussion of what shame is, but in brief, shame is a distorted worldview that says “I’m bad,” and tells me badness is endemic to my identity. Shame isn’t about doing bad things; it’s about believing oneself to be a fundamentally bad person. Well, a mere two days after I Refuse to Be Your Enemy! released, J-Novel Club published a second new series that intersects with the same topic. The hilarious and thought-provoking narrator of Tearmoon Empire, vol 1, proved surprisingly helpful in my struggles with shame.

The book opens with protagonist Mia Luna Tearmoon’s execution on the guillotine. Deposed crown princess of the eponymous empire, she clearly evokes the historical Marie Antoinette (even making a comment reminiscent of the spurious “Let them eat cake” line incorrectly attributed to the French queen). Likewise, her nation has experienced a series of tragedies plainly inspired by the real French Revolution. So when Mia mysteriously wakes up back at twelve years old, with full memories of everything she experienced in the revolution, it becomes apparent that the prologue is essentially setting up a tale of time-traveling Marie Antoinette trying to avert the French Revolution. It’s great and you should check it out.

There is much to appreciate about this book, and the unusually snarky narrator is one of Tearmoon Empire’s outstanding elements. It’s uncommon to find a story where the narrator is one of those seemingly omniscient outside observers not at all present within the story, yet has a distinct voice that practically makes the narrator a character in his own right anyway. The narrator’s sardonic opinions regarding the characters and events of the story provide a lot of levity. But for me, the narrator became much more than just a source of comedy.

For as long as I can remember, shame has been the inner narrator of my life, dispensing harsh and (in hindsight) unfair and even nonsensical commentary about myself. Seriously, if there’s a way to put oneself down, I’ve done it: I found fault with anything and everything I did. I blamed myself for things that weren’t even my responsibility. I dismissed the value of my successes and minimized whatever talents I might possess. Instead, I exaggerated my flaws. I treated real instances of failure as proof that my entire character was corrupt, rather than as individual mistakes. I worried that I was a hypocrite who accidentally deceived other people into thinking I’m a better person than I really was. If others said complimentary things about me, sometimes I assumed they were exaggerating. Other times, I decided they were sincerely mistaken due to not knowing the true me; obviously if they knew how wicked I really am, they wouldn’t say such nice things. I’d just ignore any evidence that didn’t fit my preconceptions about my own worthlessness. In my head, believing the teeniest little positive thing about myself equaled pride, so I stringently stifled any thoughts that I ever did anything good or had any good qualities. Sometimes, if circumstances forced it, I might internally concede that I committed a superficially good action, but then tell myself it didn’t count because I must have done it out of evil motives. I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

Unbeknownst to me, shame was leading me to lie to myself on a daily basis. Long before I knew what it was, or I understood that I’d been abused, or ever saw a psychologist, I was dealing with shame that came from the emotional abuse I experienced growing up. Even after learning that my pervasive sense of self-loathing had a name and that it comes from abuse, shame’s lies remained persuasive and constant. I did start to question these self-attacks, but the accusations continued to sound incredibly reasonable in my head. I didn’t really want to believe these cruel thoughts about myself, and knew that I had justification for doubting whether they were true. I also had learned that genuine guilt is tied to specific acts, so if I found myself feeling badly, but couldn’t identify anything I’d done wrong, chances were good that I was feeling shame and not guilt. However, I was also paranoid that I might use shame as an excuse to ignore my sins. “What if some of the self-judgment is true and I’m just using this business about shame and abuse to salve my conscience as I go on living wickedly?” I worried.

Enter the snarky narrator of Tearmoon Empire. The narrator is scathingly critical of Mia and those around her. If Mia does anything “good,” the narrator is quick to jump in and insist that it doesn’t count because Mia really had a selfish or stupid motive and the positive effect she had was a complete accident. If she manages to succeed at something to such a degree that even the narrator must grudgingly concede Mia was “good” in some sense, he quickly dismisses the whole incident as trivial, insignificant, hardly worth paying attention to. Her seemingly good deeds must never be construed as evidence of any virtue on Mia’s part. If characters around Mia witness her behavior and regard it in a positive light, the narrator denounces them as delusional fools who pathetically misunderstand her. They only think well of Mia as person, the narrator says, because they don’t know the truth about her. Does any of that remind you of something? Like, maybe something you read, oh, in the two paragraphs before this one?

The narration’s snide disparagement is certainly funny, but it also challenges readers to consider whether Mia is as bad as the narrator insists she is, as good as the other characters believe her to be, or perhaps something in between. As I read Tearmoon Empire, vol. 1, and pondered this question, I had a stunning epiphany. I don’t have an exact quote from when I made this realization, but it sounded something like this:

“There is an uncanny resemblance between the shame-fueled self-narration in my head and the comically derisive narrator of this light novel.”

It was eerie seeing how much this hypercritical light novel narrator’s attacks on the protagonist echoed the things I’d tell myself on an almost daily basis. Minimizing good things, dismissing positive perspectives from other people as ignorant accidents, suspecting wicked motives behind everything one does… The narrator’s tactics were all too familiar to me. However, there was one very important difference between my self-judging inner monologues and the narrator’s charges against Mia: I treated the former totally seriously, while I found the latter obviously ridiculous.

Though the narrator’s critiques of Mia occasionally contain an element of truth, much of the time it’s laughable how different the narrator’s scornful remarks are from what Mia explicitly says and does, or from the conclusions witnesses draw about Mia. The narrator’s snarky commentary is humorous in itself, and it gains a second level of humor as one starts comparing the narrator’s claims with how Mia actually acts and how other characters react to her. It’s literally unbelievable that Mia could really be the moronic evildoer that the narrator makes her out to be. Keep in mind, not once does the narrator suggest Mia is trying to deceive people: according to him, she just bumbles around trying to be a jerk but inadvertently giving people delusions that she’s a good person. The longer the book goes on, the more silly it becomes how much over-the-top stupidity it would take for all the other characters to misinterpret the princess so thoroughly.

Thanks to Tearmoon Empire’s narrator, I could see numerous lies that I’d told myself placed in a different context that made it unmistakable how absurd and untrue they were. Cruel indictments that sounded plausible in my head became far less compelling when spoken by another voice about another person. Since reading this book a couple months ago, it’s been easier than ever for me to recognize when I’m starting to tell myself lies, and to fight back against that tendency. I’ve done so much better at telling shame to just shut up when it starts trying to spew more of its familiar falsehoods, instead of getting wrapped up in self-deception and spending hours mired in tearful self-recrimination. The gap between the narrator’s view of Mia versus the other characters view of her enabled me to see more clearly how wrong I’ve been for dismissing outside evidence of my worth and trusting only the philippics of my own thoughts. This wasn’t a light bulb switching on—this was a whole array of massive sports stadium lights flaring up all together and drowning me in their radiance. To put it another way, you could say that I found Tearmoon Empire to be a truly light novel in more ways than one.

I never would have guessed that I’d end up praising a light novel for helping me deal with psychological trauma, but life is full of surprises. “Now let me be clear,” I’m not claiming that reading a good book is sufficient to solve serious mental health issues. If you or those you love are struggling, seek professional help. It works! I’m certain that my years of prior psychological and psychiatric care were essential for helping me grow to the point where I could benefit from reading Tearmoon Empire. This book is only one step in a long journey that’s not over yet. But the fact remains that reading a Japanese novel about a time-traveling Marie Antoinette analogue was a life-changing experience that has helped me in dealing with the shame from my childhood emotional abuse. Thank you, Nozomu Mochitsuki, for writing this book, and thank you, J-Novel Club, for translating and publishing it. I’ll keep fighting not to let shame narrate my life anymore.

=====

Tearmoon Empire can be purchased through J-Novel Club or Amazon. We’ll be discussing volume one is our next Light Novel Club meeting, so please pick up a copy and join us then, on May 31st.

#Light Novels #Christianity #Tearmoon Empire #Tearmoon Teikoku Monogatari #Shame #Self deception #Trauma #Truth #Articles #Author: JeskaiAngel

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andrea-lyn · 5 years

Note

Hey! So birthday request 🎂☺️(I am Shameless).So I was thinking since Alex Met Michael ‘s mum,can you please do an Alex taking Michael to meet his(Alex’s) mom fic?and Kyle tagging along because now they are the road trip trio and he says he is Alex’s best man.

(I’m sorry that this is so much of a belated birthday gift, but a bunch came in before, but I hope this works for you even if it is no longer your bday)

“I don’t know about this.”

Alex glances to the passenger side of the car, trying to surreptitiously check that the locks of the car are on for the fourth time. After all, the last thing he needs is Michael tucking and rolling out of the car because he’s panicking. “Michael,” he sighs, glancing in the rearview mirror. “How come you’re not helping?” he demands, of Valenti. “What are you even here for?”

“The entertainment, mostly,” Valenti quips.

Michael is in the middle of what might be an actual panic attack and Valenti is about to eat popcorn. Alex pinches the bridge of his nose and wonders what he did to deserve this, never mind that he’d been the one to actually request this happen.

It’s Mother’s Day and after the disastrous events at Caulfield two years ago and everything that’s happened since, Alex didn’t think it would be smart to leave Michael alone on the day.

Maybe he’s just trying to fool everyone. Maybe it’s because Alex is going to visit his mother in person for the first time in years, because after he’d called her to ask about Jesse’s habits, she’d ended the call saying that he should come see her sometime.

He’d made a promise and now he intends to keep it.

It feels like if he doesn’t, it’s not only him making his mother upset, but somehow undermining Michael as well, who’ll never get a chance to visit his mother again, thanks to Jesse Manes’ legacy. The very least Alex can do is offer him something else, even if it’s second best.

His mother lives out in the middle of nowhere, off the grid. Alex had helped erase her information so that certain people (specifically his father) couldn’t find her once he got old enough and had tracked her down.

She’d explained it wasn’t the boys she wanted to hide from, but Jesse.

They’ve been talking lately and he’d mentioned wanting to introduce her to his boyfriend, which she had eventually come around to. Alex suspects that she’s anticipating another military boy, someone that reminds her of Jesse. She’s going to be so damn surprised.

“Michael,” Alex says, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “It’s okay. She’s gonna love you. You’re nothing like anyone I was around growing up. That’ll do it alone.”

“So, be the anti-Manes?” Kyle quips.

Alex raises both brows and shrugs, because, “Yeah. Kind of.”

That seems to relax Michael a little. Alex isn’t so sure that he’s as relaxed, but he’s burying it down deep. He’s never brought anyone home and it’s for obvious reasons with his father, but with his mother, it almost felt like cowardice. Not bringing Michael or anyone else felt like he could keep his heart safe in the process.

He’s not so sure he wants safe, now.

Pulling into a long, winding driveway, he knows that there’s no turning around at this point. They’re here and his mother is expecting them. To leave now would be an act of cowardice so grand, so awful, so terrifying that he suspects he’d have to go months without speaking to his mother as a consequence.

Besides, he wants her to meet Michael.

The three most important people in the world to him are within a mile of each other right now – mother, boyfriend, best friend – and Alex has never felt safer or more panicked at the same time.

“Okay,” Alex says, and parks the car. “We’re here.”

Here goes nothing.

When Alex is making his way to the porch of the little bungalow, Michael weighs the merits of running away. He’d have to live off the land in the desert, sure, but then he won’t have to worry about being a disappointment to anyone’s mother (especially seeing as he doesn’t even have a shot of being with his own).

Of course, there’s one looming doctor-shaped issue in his way.

“Don’t even think about it,” Valenti warns, like somehow he’s learning mind-reading tricks from Isobel.

“What? I was just…” Michael trails off, when he hears low voices at the porch. He straightens up his posture, aware that he’s not going to get out of this, and if that’s the case, then he needs to make sure he doesn’t fuck this up.

Michael Guerin, Earner of Parent’s Trust isn’t a trait that he ever thought he’d possess, but for Alex, he’s got to try.

“You were just debating running away. I’m pretty sure that’s why I’m here. Got to make sure you don’t make a break for it.”

He’s lurking back here because he doesn’t think that he can muster up the courage to get over there until Alex either deliberately drags him or his presence is requested. “I’m not exactly the kind of guy mothers like.” It’s an understatement. Michael’s not the kind of guy any parents like, from his interaction with adults as a kid.

Valenti clearly isn’t impressed by his little ‘woe is me’ parade.

”You know how hard it is for him to come out here and face her. It only happens when something is important,” Valenti says. “He doesn’t like bothering her, but ever since Caulfield, I swear, he brings this up on a weekly basis. He’s always asking me if I think you two should come out here and look. It’s mother’s day and he wants to spend it with you and with her.”

”Also, you,” Michael feels compelled to point out.

”Yeah, notice how I’m the one talking you off the ledge? Alex knew he’d need the backup,” Valenti boasts. “Is this about your Mom?”

They really, really, really don’t talk about this often, but Valenti knows the gist of what happened in that prison. He knows that Michael had lost his family that day and that his mother had been one of them. What’s been weird, honestly, is the fact that Valenti gets it.

After all, they both lost parents to Caulfield.

”I don’t want to think that she can replace her,” Michael admits, feeling feeble for the way he sounds as he speaks, “and at the same time, I don’t wanna be the ingrate boyfriend who doesn’t see how much Alex is doing to make this happen for us. It’s just, how is she supposed to replace my Mom? How can I even think that when I don’t even know my Mom?”

”You won’t find that out standing out here,” Valenti says.

Michael breathes in and out, staring at the daunting bungalow in front of him.

”Do or do not…” Valenti intones.

”Oh, fuck you, I knew showing you Star Wars was a mistake,” Michael groans, but it has the effect of breaking the tension, making him huff out a laugh as he nods his head. “Yeah, I got it. There’s no try.” He’s just gotta do this and he knows it’ll turn out fine.

He still can’t help worrying.

”Michael,” Alex calls, ducking out onto the porch. He’s smiling like the sun is shining on him and he’s waving for the both of them to come inside. He looks so happy and Michael isn’t about to ruin that by running away. “Come inside, lunch is ready.”

Valenti claps him on the shoulder, putting his hands on both of them like he’s intending to steer him inside if Michael doesn’t go on his own volition.

”You can do this,” Valenti encourages.

”I can at least try,” Michael admits. “For Alex.”

”For Alex.”

Michael sits in the truck, full of lunch, tea and cookies, still feeling the tightness of Alex’s mother’s embrace as she’d hugged him so tightly to say goodbye, refusing to let him go until he’d relaxed. He hates that he’d tensed, but his experience with the Manes family, outside of Alex, has been resoundingly stressful.

She’d been kind and warm and welcoming. She’d been the complete opposite of Jesse, and he’s starting to understand why she’d run away so early in Alex’s life.

“So, did she…” Michael trails off, hating how small his voice sounds. “Do you think she liked me?”

Alex gives Michael a fond smile. “She did ask when I was going to ask that nice boy to marry me,” is his wry comment. “She’s hard to put off when she knows that I’ve been in love with the same guy for over twelve years, not to mention the part where we live together. As far as she’s concerned, that’s inevitable.”

Michael feels his cheeks go hot, because he’d liked her, too.

It’s not that he’s ever had a mother figure to compare her to, but she’d been sweet and warm with her love, while also having a firmness and a backbone of steel – but then, he supposes you’d have to, in order to leave Jesse Manes, because that takes guts.

”I liked her too,” he mumbles, staring out the window so Alex can’t see the vulnerability on his face. “Do you think we could turn this into a regular thing? I know she doesn’t like coming back to Roswell, but I don’t mind driving out here, if that’s what we’d need to do.”

From the way Alex practically radiates relief and joy, it’s definitely the right thing to say.

”I think we can manage,” he agrees, tugging Michael towards him for a slow kiss that makes

“Come on, let’s hit the road,” Valenti says, interrupting that beautiful moment, hopping in the back of the car, arms piled with leftovers. “I saw a 7-Eleven on the way back and I don’t know about you two, but I’m thinking Big Gulps.”

Okay, thinks Michael. Maybe Valenti has a few decent qualities up his sleeve and his taste in roadside beverages is up there in the plus column.

#thougtsofadyingatheist #malex #malex fic #tumblr prompts #meeting the in-laws #road trip buddies!#roswell new mexico

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bookstryingtostealyourheart · 5 years

Text

The Way You Look Tonight

A/N: Welp this request made me watch my favorite episodes of the Vampire diaries: “Our Town”, and “Dangerous Liaisons”. Maybe listen to “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran while reading, cause it was in the episode during the dance and I listened to it while writing. God Klaus is such a gem. I am kind of making this request take Caroline’s place in the “Dangerous Liaisons” episode, so he invites the reader instead of Caroline, as they’re kind of a thing. So if it seems familiar....its like a little spin off of the episode. I thought that caroline and how she treated him made me :( because he was trying so hard. So enjoy, I’d be so willing to write more Klaus imagines, or for anyone else to check out my list and if you want for anyone else, just ask <3 Hope this was what you were looking for!

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader

Request: “Klaus Mikaelson x reader who is insecure?” YES BITTY THANK YOU @calumfkinghood

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You hear a knock at your door, and raise an eyebrow, heading to check it out. Seeing through the glass door, you see nothing outside, which either means trouble...or ding dong ditchers, which can fall into the category of trouble. You open the door and squint, being blinded by the bright sun. Stepping out, you look around, but there is no one there. “What the heck?” You ask yourself as your eyes adjust and you look down, to reveal a rather large red box with a bow on it, as well as an envelope. This seems rather strange, so you give a confused smile, picking up the box and bringing it inside. Of course, there was a moment of: this could blow up as soon as I open it...but curiosity killed the cat, making you open the envelope first.

“Please join the Mikaelson family this evening at seven o’clock for dancing, cocktails, and celebration.” You read aloud, furrowing your eyebrows. Mikaelson? Who? You flip over the invitation, hoping for more information, and that is exactly what you got. In very nice handwriting, you read: ‘Y/N, please wear this beautiful dress and bring my fantasies to life tonight. My family would like to finally meet you. Fondly, Klaus.’ You blush as you read the name. Klaus? Klaus has been so busy lately with Stefan and Damon, that you haven’t seen him much. Of course, you love Elena, but her boyfriends cause so much trouble. You and Bonnie could agree with that fact, as she is the closest thing you have to a best friend right now. Her and Matt. Matt was always your best friend, but Bonnie and you have bonded lately. When Klaus came to town, you had ran into each other while he tried to contact Bonnie. Klaus was rather charming, which had been rather enticing. The only issue, as you will admit, is how unpredictable he is, as he cannot trust anybody. so many people have crossed Klaus, and he has so many enemies. But he has been nothing but kind to you, time and time again.

Letting curiosity get to you, you opened the red box to reveal a red ball gown, sparkly and beautiful, as well as a rather large diamond necklace with matching earrings. You swooned, not because of the fact that he is giving you such material things, but because he did all of this, for you. Not for Caroline, not for Elena, but for you. It confused you, but you were grateful.

“So are you going to come tonight, my love?” Klaus asks and you jump, looking towards the door. You’d left the door open as you were taken over by curiosity and nosiness. “You know, leaving the door open after someone leaves you a creepy box is not ideal or safe.” Klaus teases, a grin clear on his face. He is in good spirits today, which makes you nervous. Not because he has bad intentions, but because you are nervous to meet his family. They are original vampires and all, but also, there is a lot of hatred going around: Elena and Rebekah, Kol and everybody, Damon & Stefan with Klaus, and now Bonnie is mad at elena. It seems like a drama fest that you don’t want to get yourself into.

“...I don’t know Klaus. Your family is rather intimidating. I’m just a human. You could invite another vampire, and probably get brownie points from the others. Caroline would look amazing in this dress...” You offer and Klaus holds up a hand, stopping any more thoughts from flowing out of your mouth.

“I am startled by your statement, Y/N.” Klaus says in his voice, the root to the charming way about him. There of course, is always something attractive with someone with an accent, as well as his old fashioned gentleman ways. “It does not matter to me if my family likes that you’re a human or not. You being a human is...somewhat pure. It is nice for a change. And, I did not invite Caroline as my date, I invited you. I picked out this dress for you, as I think you look breathtaking in red. Caroline, she would not do this dress justice.” Klaus explains and for a second, you believe him. You believe he means that, but then again, he is very charming. But he thinks you'd look better than Caroline? She is drop dead gorgeous, with the looks of a model. “Please come, Y/N. Maybe those material things don’t excite you, but there are so many things I want to show you. If you come tonight, I will be filled with gratitude...if you do not, I will understand. I hope to see you there, my love.” You hear and then Klaus is gone, as well as the door closed. One thing that surprised you, if he wanted you there so bad, why didn’t he just compel you? He was perfectly capable of doing so, but he chose to let you decide. Although he did not compel you, you felt compelled to go tonight. The dress was a good color red for your skin complexion. You even know what you want to do with your hair.

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Matt had been invited to the party, so the two of you had come together. He was there with Rebekah, and you were here with Klaus. Who would have thought that two of the strongest vampires would invite humans as their date. You hated to admit that it felt like a trap, but there was absolutely no telling with the Mikaelsons. “So you...and Klaus?” Matt asks, surprised that his only friend who has not gotten dragged into vampire drama is now the date of the oldest and first vampire ever. It showed him that his whole life was taken over by them, but he would never come into your business unless he was sure you’d get hurt, and he is here with Rebekah. That would be hypocritical.

“You’re surprised he wanted me to be his date?” You asked, sending Matt a confused and slightly irritated look. He shook his head immediately.

“No! I just...thought you would stay out of this vampire drama. But what you said, I didn’t mean anything like that. You look amazing in that dress. Klaus chose that wisely. Promise me you’ll stay safe tonight.” Matt says and you nod, giving him a pat on the back.

“Of course. You too.” You reply before entering the beautiful house, music filling your ears, as well as smell of champagne and cologne fills your nose. A woman takes your jacket as you let your eyes sweep the room. So many people, dressed in amazingly expensive clothes, drinking hundred dollar champagne. It made you wanna crawl into yourself and hide. With that thought, you grabbed a glass of champagne from a waitresses tray.

“Goodness me, darling, you look ravishing in that dress.” Klaus says from behind you, making you turn quickly. He also looked handsome, white undershirt and bow tie, as well as a black blazer jacket. He had the aged prince look that a lot of men did not have anymore.

“I’d hope you like it, you bought it yourself.” You reminded him pointedly, taking in the atmosphere. He let out a rumble of a laugh, nodding at your point there. He practically pictured you in it at the store, and it wasn’t far off from how it actually looks. You may look even better than he imagined. Klaus liked you because you were pure in the sense that you were completely and utterly human. You were refreshing to be around, like a breath of fresh air.

“You are so brainy, little pet. That is why I know my family will like you.” Klaus explains as he leads you through a crowd of people. You were nervous. He had to be bringing you to either Rebekah, Ester, Kol or Elijah. Elijah, from how Klaus explains him is the most accepting, so you silently hoped to meet him first. Ease you into the chaotic family. You weren’t with Klaus, so you don’t know why it matters to you so much.

“I am not brainy.” You whisper to him and he rolls his eyes. He knows much about the personality traits of a human...he has analyzed them for around a thousand years. It is clear to him you are a little insecure, and he thinks it’s cute. Not that you stress out, but that you’re not arrogant. He hates girls who are over arrogant. It comes off to him as unattractive. Coming to these thoughts, Klaus decides to have his nice talk with you early. He pulls you out of the main room and into a side room. It was nice, lit with candles that smelled clean and sweet.

“Y/N, darling...you are brainy. You are amazing, but you are insecure. I think it is your only flaw, because you talk so down on yourself sometimes. That is the only unattractive thing about you. You think people like Caroline are pretty, and don’t get me wrong...she is, but you are too. You have this glow. God this glow that blows you away. You are kind, generous, attractive, smart, sassy, sexy, and so much more. But no amount too much of anything. You will never agree with me, but I want you to know that someone who has met thousands of people, seen the world change around him, thinks you are as flawless as a human can get. Please don’t waste this life of yours dwelling on what could be. You have a whole world out there that would love to see you blossom into something amazing.” Klaus lets his words flow effortlessly from his lips, taking you by surprise that he is opening up and telling you all these things. He isn’t trying to make you do anything but care for yourself. This was a soft side that you assume not many people see.

You let a tear fall down your cheek, never hearing something that deep come your way, as you look up into his eyes. Although he is so old in reality, his eyes are so full of life, so full of life wanting to be let out. It inspired you almost as much as his words did. This is why you leaned up and pressed your lips against his, which took him by surprise of course. His thoughts roamed for a second before he kissed back gently, his hands falling at your waist. He was glad you did not argue with him, and clearly accepted his compliment and slight lecture. He felt like he did something entirely right, without any ulterior motives, which was strange for Klaus, as he always did things that would help him later on, but what would this do? Him, kissing you, making you feel better about yourself. He wasn’t sure, but he did not mind at the moment.

“Ahem. Niklaus...care to introduce us to your new friend?” Both of you flew away from the other, startled by the new voice in the room. It was Rebekah and Kol, both of them sporting smirks. You looked at Klaus, a bright red blush on your face as he bit his lip. He knew you wouldn’t love meeting them like this, but he was not all that upset about the situation. He would not let the moment be ruined because of his little sister and brother who like to butt into his business.

“Rebekah...Kol...This is Y/N. She is my friend.” Klaus informs them, his arm going around your waist. Rebekah and Kol give each other sideways glances, before their eyes landing on you again.

“Friend...do you kiss all of your friends like that?” Kol asks with a dark chuckle, making Klaus scoff. This was uncomfortable, with so much power in one room. Klaus was clearly feeling protective, not liking his most unpredictable brother and sister looking at his date with such hunger for information.

“Nope just this one...especially with the way she looks tonight, don't you two agree she looks breathtakingly beautiful?” Klaus asks his family, a bright smirk on his face as he spoke. He is such a pain, but he knows how to make a girl feel like a princess, quite literally.

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