#like he's completely insane but entirely lucid at the same time.
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deadpool max ii #1
#deadpool#hydra bob#sci talks comics#honestly love this dialogue#i love their stupid dynamic#i love how infuriating it must be to deal with wade but he's still so weirdly nonchalant and his presence is kind of calming.#i feel like it would be such a weird feeling being around this specific wade. he's so impossible to read. but like weirdly level-headed.#like he's completely insane but entirely lucid at the same time.#i just really like the tone they struck with him in this book. he's a really interesting wade.
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Joining The Superfriends - 22
Read it on AO3 here!
Lena settles back into her recliner and hugs Teddy Eddie to her chest, wrapping her arms around him and pushing her nose into his fur.
She closes her eyes and tilts her head back after a moment, basking in the peaceful quiet of her safe space. Today has been more than hectic with everything that happened with Nia and she can scarcely believe that she actually travelled into another person’s dreams, it’s truly insane to think about. It’s not something she’s ever going to willingly try again though, despite it happening in the dream, her boob still hurts a little from where Nia tossed a candle at it. I suppose it just lets her know that the stories are true, get hurt in a dream and you get hurt in real life, or worse, if you die in a dream, you die in real life too.
It's a lot to take in so having this time now, in the space that is her own and nobody else’s, it’s everything. This is something she’s never had before and it’s everything she’s always wished for but until recently, never dared to believe she could have, until she got it that is.
Her life has reached a strange point, one in which everything is simultaneously amazing and absolutely terrible at the same time, her mind drifting between being just content and full of crazed panic. It’s a wonder she’s able to get any sleep at night at all with the way she’s constantly flipping between the two.
She’s away from her family, that’s a major plus. She’s got a place of her own, and she’s very much on her way to having a girlfriend. Not only that, but the girlfriend in question is a complete and utter goddess, Supergirl herself. Lex would have a heart attack if he ever found out.
Lex, ugh.
He’s the main cause of all of the bad things in her life, even now when she doesn’t have anything to do with him. Especially now. She just can’t escape his disgusting clutches, he’s determined to force his way into her life again and is willing to do whatever it takes to do that, to kill whoever it takes to do that. That’s the scariest part.
On top of that, she’s pretty darn certain that Nia’s reoccurring dream that made her so tired her brain literally forced her into a lucid coma has something to do with him. He’s the one person on this planet that Lena is certain would destroy the entire world with every person on it just to enact his revenge against one person. Or in this case, probably a couple, she’s become his target just as much as Superman ever was and while it does stroke her ego a little to be grouped with a Kryptonian, it’s mostly just scary.
Just thinking about it makes her nervous and her fingers start raking down through the soft fur of the bear she’s become really emotionally attached to since Kara gave him to her. He reminds her of the bear she had as a child, the one her birth mother gave to her before she died, the one her adopted mother, Lillian, got rid of the day she turned seven because she was ‘too old for something so childish’. Thinking of that bear still makes her heart break just as much as it did that day and it makes her want to curl up and cry the way her seven-year-old-self did. She didn’t sleep properly for weeks without that bear to keep her company, her old reprieve from the life she was thrust into was stolen and it was a lot for a child to handle.
She moves him away from her chest so she can look at his little furry face. He’s cute and just knowing that he belonged to Kara first, that he provided her comfort in the way she’s getting now, it makes connects them in one more way and Lena loves any connection she can get with her.
Alex once mentioned that even she took a turn with Teddy Eddie and that makes her feel better too. Alex is so brave and strong that it’s easy to forget that someone like her might not be feeling as brave or as strong on the inside and she can see why Alex might have needed him too. It makes her feel less weak to be so fond of a silly little stuffed bear.
She tucks him under her arm and lets her eyes fall over her apartment, her space, her sanctuary. She loves every corner of this place. There are not many corners and not a whole lot of space between them either but it’s her home. She told Sam that she’s going to find a new place to move to once her lease is up and she really is going to do that but she’s going to enjoy every last second she can in this place while she has the chance to. This place has served her well and it would be a crime to let that go unappreciated.
It’s not just the apartment that has served her well though either. It’s the people that helped her build this space for herself that have served her well. Alex gifted her the furniture, Kara, the things that have helped make this place a home, specifically the painting she’s always enamoured by and spends at least ten minutes staring at before going to sleep each night, fascinated by the colours and the brushstrokes that show the story of Kara’s life behind them, and the little teddy bear that keeps her company. They have quickly become the things she treasures most, and she dreads the day she crosses paths with someone who needs the bear more than her because she won’t be able to say no to passing him on to do his duty in making the world a better place with his hugs.
If there’s one thing she’s learning though, it’s to drink in every good moment she can and commit them to memory because they are what will keep her warm at night, although if the night with Kara tells her anything, Kara is very good at making sure she doesn’t get cold, that woman is basically a walking space heater.
Her phone starts ringing and it actually makes her jump since she’s so in her head about reviewing everything going on in her life at present. She sees who the caller is and answers while praying the phone call is going to be short. She loves Sam but she’s far too tired for an hour-long call, the kind Sam likes best.
“Good evening, Samantha.”
“Do you have to be so weird?” Is Sam’s response, huffy and tired.
Lena’s lips quirk up at being able to be the one to annoy Sam for once. “Yes, I thought you’d appreciate it.”
“I would on any other day than today.”
“Why’s that? What’s happening?” Lena leans forward in her recliner, suddenly worried about her friend. It’s not normal for Sam to be anything other than happy and bright, or at least pretending to be so the fact that she’s being openly upset is troubling.
There’s a series of sighs coming from down the line as Sam tries her best to find the right words. “Luthor Corp is a mess, Lena. It has been since you left really. Without you down in the labs, barely anything gets done and what is done is, quite frankly, terrible. Lex is pissy that he can’t use any of it to do fuck-knows what and he’s been having shady meetings with a bunch of people nobody else knows anything about other than the fact that they have a lot of money.”
“So, what you’re saying is that my brother is probably doing a bunch of super illegal things, which is on brand for him, but he’s now doing it in a way that could affect not only the company but every employee if it gets found out?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I have half a mind to report his shadiness myself and take away whatever bullshit he’s doing by taking away his headquarters of disaster, but he has too many connections and would find out who did it and I can’t risk Ruby in that way.”
“I know you can’t, but it isn’t a bad idea to get him away from Luthor Corp. Let me speak to Brainy tomorrow and see what we can do, alright?”
Sam’s tone clears up almost instantly. “That sounds really good.”
“Don’t expect a super-fast turnaround though, Sammy. We’ve had our own issues here since you left that we have to deal with. All I can say is that something big is coming and we have no idea what it is.”
“That is not helpful for my anxiety.”
“It’s not helpful for mine either but here we are,” Lena says, fingers still raking through the fur of the teddy bear tucked into her.
“Whatever, I have to go anyway, I’m making dinner, I just called to dump my issues on you,” Sam says, the smug annoying tone she usually speaks in back in place.
Lena hears it and snipes back at her. “What else do you ever call me for, you’re a very high-maintenance person, Sam.”
“Rude, I’m never speaking to you again, or at least until tomorrow.”
“Awesome, talk to you later, bye.”
“Bye.”
Lena is pleasantly surprised at the length of the call. She was expecting for it to have lasted way longer than that so she’s pretty happy with how short it was and with the fact that she managed to make Sam feel a little better in the process.
She drops her phone onto the arm of the recliner but doesn’t even have the opportunity to fully stretch her head back to rest against the back of the chair before there’s a pounding on the door. The kind that makes her heart sink because it sounds a hell of a lot like someone is about to try and knock her door down.
Before she can fully register what’s happening, the door opens and a figure comes barrelling in, or more like, stumbling in while almost failing to keep their balance.
“Kara? What are you doing?”
Kara regains her footing and drops several bags onto the counter before going back to shut the door. “You should really lock this, you know?”
“Well, I was going to when I go up again. I forgot to do it when I got home and couldn’t be bothered to get back up right away when I noticed. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come barging in.” Lena’s cheeks are bright red, a little embarrassed that she’s been caught cuddling with a teddy bear, even though Kara gave her the teddy bear.
Kara looks kind of guilty. “I didn’t mean to kick your door, I slipped on your welcome mat and then grabbed the handle to try and get my balance back but it opened and I fell inside. If you tell Alex I’ll have to kill you and nobody will find your body.”
“Oh, the mighty Supergirl can’t even stand up without falling over like a klutz, how can us mere humans ever cope in the shadow of such a powerful being?”
“You’re mean and if you don’t stop bullying me, I won’t share the food I brought over. I thought you might want to have dinner with me but I can see where I’m not wanted.” Kara makes to pick the bags of food back up and head out but Lena calls her bluff, staring her down until she’s beside the door and waiting for Lena to stop her. “You’re extra mean.”
Lena grins as Kara puts the bags down for a second time, not planning on leaving at all. “You don’t seem too upset about that.”
Kara lets out a dramatic sigh that belongs on a soap opera of some kind and looks over her shoulder to send Lena a withering look. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty.”
The words simultaneously make Lena blush and make her want to argue but Kara’s eyes have softened and she’s got a cute little smile across her face that makes Lena want to just get up and kiss her.
So she does.
Lena climbs to her feet, stumbling a little in the process as she hauls her ass off the recliner and ditches Teddy Eddie on the seat. She practically launches herself across the room and grabs Kara by the back of her neck to bring her into a kiss that she most definitely was not expecting. Not that she’s complaining though. Not at all. In fact, Kara greets her movements with a vigour of her own, gripping her around her waist to keep her close and when they part, it’s with a breathless giggle that makes Lena kiss her again.
Kara only lets it go on for a minute and for a second, Lena thinks she’s done something wrong but then Kara whispers the most unsexy things she could have said in the moment.
“The food is going cold.”
“You…” Lena frowns. “Did you just stop us kissing because you’re hungry?”
“Your lips aren’t going to go cold if I wait an hour, the food will.” Kara shrugs, unpacking the bags to reveal a whole load of Thai food. “I even got you something healthy since you’ve been complaining about all of the extra calories I’ve been forcing on you by bringing you take-out all the time.”
Lena really needs Kara to stop being cute because it’s making her want to kiss her again and she can’t do that at the minute because all of a sudden, Kara only has eyes for the food she’s unpacking and wasting no time digging into.
“And…I’ve lost you to the food.”
“Only temporarily, don’t worry. Here, this is for you but I got a few extras in case you want to indulge.” Kara slides over the food she ordered specifically for Lena.
Lena takes it with a hint of a smile. “We both know you ordered the extras for you and are only offering them to get into my good books.”
“I’m always in your good books so that’s pointless.”
Lena moves back to her chair, moving Teddy Eddie onto her pillow so she doesn’t accidentally get any food on him. Kara follows her and perches on the side of the bed, bouncing a little on the mattress as she lands. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you Kara Danvers.”
“I think it’s just a given.” Kara grins.
Lena rolls her eyes and changes the subject from Kara being insufferable. “Whatever you say. Now, have you spoken to Nia since everything happened?”
“Briefly. She’s doing better. She says she’s tired but nowhere near as tired as she was before she was sucked into the lucid dream. I think she’s more worried about what’s going to come at us since her dream was that bad she was forced into a lucid dream to protect her. Something really bad is coming and I’m not exactly thrilled about the prospect of it.”
“Me neither. It’s actually been something that’s been on my mind too. I’m thinking of updating the Tower’s security systems, maybe finding a way to block off the entry points in a pinch because the bugs got inside way too easily before and we had no way to stop them. I think we also need to get our heads in the game with surveillance.”
“I think that sounds very sensible.” Kara’s joking attitude dwindles as the conversation turns more serious. “It’s definitely making me nervous that we have no idea when our lives are going to become a hell of a lot more complicated.”
Lena nods, shovelling her food into her mouth and swallowing her bite before speaking. “Yeah. I hope it waits for me to move places though. It would be a pain to move in the middle of an apocalypse or something.”
Kara’s eyebrows shoot up, her eyes growing wide. “Wait, hold up. So, first of all, please don’t jinx us by saying we’re going to be trapped in an apocalypse and second of all, when are you moving places?”
“Oh yeah, I promised Sam and Jack that I’ll move when my lease is up, they are worried about me living in this area so I agreed if only to not have to listen to them complaining about it.”
“Well, when the time comes, I’ll give you a hand moving your things over and I’m sure Alex won’t mind helping either.” Kara looks quite pleased with the news and it becomes clear to Lena that this is what Kara had been hoping for, that she too is worried about Lena living in this area. She had mentioned it when she first found out about the apartment and was helping her out but hasn’t really mentioned it since so Lena had assumed she had gotten over it but that’s not true, she was simply allowing Lena to make her own decisions.
The freedom that Kara gives her is so refreshing that it makes her yearn for it all the more, to want the independence she’s never had and run with it for as long and as far as she can.
“I appreciate that. I haven’t got much longer left on my lease so I’m going to have to start looking for a place really, really soon. Would you mind giving me a hand with that? You know the city much better than I do and I need somewhere that’s safe enough I don’t hear any complaints but cheap enough my bank account doesn’t cry.”
“Of course, This is so exciting! I know which areas you want to look at already, oh, actually, can you make a list of the things you’re looking for in a place? I want to find you the best place I can.” Kara is grinning at the very thought of it and when Lena looks down, Kara has kicked off her shoes which means she's now displaying her toes as they curl in excitement. Damn, this woman is too cute. She needs to leave her shoes somewhere nobody will trip over them though.
Lena holds her hands up, a chuckle bubbling in her throat. “Woah, woah, slow down there, tiger. I just want something similar to what I have now. I love the cosy size of it and I am perfectly happy with just the bare minimum. I don’t care what it looks like or what facilities are available. Just having a space that is my own is enough for me.”
Kara mirrors Lena’s outstretched hands, ready to debate but making them look like a pair of mimes practising for a show. “I hear you but just because you’re ok with having the bare minimum, that doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve better. Think about it, don’t you want a place with a bathtub so you can have a soak after a long, hard day? Maybe with some bubbles, a glass of wine and a good book?” Kara can see Lena wavering. “You could have a place with enough space for a rug. I love a good rug; don’t you like a rug?”
Lena tilts her head, giving in with a smile that can’t be restrained. “I do like a rug.”
“You don’t need a massive place for those things, you just have to be open to paying a tiny bit extra to treat yourself because you’re special and you deserve it.”
Lena looks down for a moment as she feels her cheeks glow in a faint blush she’s almost embarrassed by. “Maybe I should look over my finances and see what I can spare for rent. Thanks to a certain job, I have a better budget than I had when I got this place.”
Kara finishes up her food while Lena talks. “Ok, you do that and I’ll start looking at what’s up for rent at the minute, let’s go, let’s go, round up the troops.”
Lena doesn’t move, just keeps slowly chewing. “You need to chill. There’s no rush.”
“But I—”
“Kara, I’m not rushing my food to look at finances, that’s boring. I’ll look after I’ve finished eating.” With her words, Kara loses the pouty puppy-dog look she was developing and her expression lightens immensely.
“Wait, you’re going to look?”
“Yes. Now, I think there’s still some of the extras you got on the counter, you forgot to grab them because they were behind the bag.” Lena points over to the counter but before her arm is even properly outstretched, Kara is tripping over her shoes and landing on the floor with a thunk. Lena can’t even react though because, in less time than it took her to fall, Kara is up and standing over the food left on the counter, already digging into it.
Lena opens her mouth to speak but there’s nothing but genuine shock in her system so it takes a moment for her to find words. “That was, well…ok.”
Kara smiles, her cheeks full of food, making her look like an adorable little chipmunk. Lena wants to kiss her again but it’s clear that’s not happening because the second they finish it looks like they are going to be doing some research on apartments. Just what Lena wants to be doing. Not. At least she’s doing it with Kara. That does make things a hell of a lot better.
-
“How do I end up in situations like this?” Lena complains, pinching the bridge of her nose between a thumb and a finger.
Kara shrugs next to her, sheepish. “Sorry.”
“Literally the first place we’re viewing and we get trapped in the elevator. It’s just my luck.”
“I can get us out if you need me to desperately but I don’t really want to give myself away as being an—”
“I get it.” Lena looks over at Kara, who is leaning against the wall opposite her, both keeping the doors to the elevator to one side of them and the mirrored back to their other side. “I’ll just cross this one off the list. This is a terrible first impression and there’s not going to be a second one.”
Kara nods. “I think that’s smart.”
Lena clicks her tongue rhythmically, her eyes darting around the metal death box they’re trapped in. “Do you think it would be passable if you managed to pry the doors open?”
Kara shrugs while pulling her glasses down her nose before using her X-ray vision to take a peek out at what is right outside of the doors. “No can do, buckaroo. We’re between floors.”
“Ugh. So, what now? We just wait and hope someone will eventually answer this garbage alarm button?”
Kara jams her finger onto the button again, nothing visually happens when she does so and no ringing happens either. “I guess so. Someone will find us though, there’s what, fifty units here? Someone will try and use the elevator and figure it’s broken or since we came early, the real estate agent who’s meant to show us around the place will figure it out when we don’t show up.”
“Kara, I’m halfway through arming the new security systems at the Tower, this was only meant to be a quick errand, not an all-day event, I’ve got to finish up the system.” Lena pulls her eyebrows together and rakes her fingers through her loose hair, stressed and a little panicky at the feeling of being so trapped, especially for an undetermined amount of time.
There’s nothing Kara can do except stand there awkwardly and try to come up with a solution that could work but there’s really not much she can do. She wants to make Lena feel better but it’s obvious that the only way she can do that is by getting them out of the situation but she can’t do that since their phones aren’t getting a signal and they haven’t had a response since they pressed the alert button, something they have done around half a dozen times at this point.
Kara leans her head back against the wall and as her eyes fall on the ceiling tiles of the elevator, she formulates a plan. With her x-ray vision, she can see that if they climb out of the top, they can ‘climb’ the beams and she can open the doors onto the level above them. Of course, she’ll actually fly them up there but if anyone questions, they can just say they managed to climb it.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Kara grins and double checks there’s no camera, which there isn’t, thankfully. Then she floats up enough to shift a tile out of the way and make sure their path is clear, which it is.
Keeping the tile to one side, she floats back down and holds her arms out for Lena to step into. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
Lena is certainly not about to argue and presses herself into Kara, her arms coming out to wrap around Kara’s neck while Kara’s wrap around her waist before she’s being lifted into the air.
“Are you ok?” Kara asks as they gradually make their way up the elevator shaft.
“I’m good, just please keep going,” Lena replies, her grip on Kara strong enough that if she were to use that much force on a human, they would wake up with bruises the next day.
“Almost there.” Kara hovers beside the doors for a moment before realizing there was a flaw in her plan. She looks around and sees a thin ledge and flies towards it. “I’m going to need you to be super brave for me for a moment, Lena.”
Lena’s eyes are screwed shut so she has no idea what’s happening but she doesn’t like the tone Kara is using. “Why?”
“I need to put you down for a minute on a ledge so I can open the doors. Just keep your eyes shut and lean back into the wall. I’ll be right here if you fall but that won’t happen if you just press back away from the edge.”
Lena is not happy with the words coming out of Kara’s mouth and is not on board with that plan. She opens her eyes to assess what ledge Kara is talking about and she only sets her sights on it for a millisecond before she’s shaking her head dramatically. “Absolutely not.”
“I can’t hold you and get the doors open at the same time. The only other way is for me to let go of you and you hold yourself up on me.”
“Kara, I’m scared, I can’t do it. You know I don’t like heights.” Lena's lips tremble along with every bone in her body, fear coursing through her.
Kara squeezes her tighter for a moment before moving to the ledge, setting Lena’s feet down and holding her so she doesn’t fall. “Just get a feel for it. I’d put you back in the elevator until the doors are open if I could but I can’t risk someone looking down and seeing me flying you back up. Just get a feel for it and close your eyes, push back into the wall.”
Lena does as she’s told, her eyes drifting closed and her weight settling back. There’s just enough space that her feet are completely planted but that doesn’t make her feel much better.
“I’m only a couple of meters away, just stay how you are, you’re doing so good,” Kara reassures her, backing away from her slowly and then rushing to open the door, getting it open after using her x-ray vision once again, this time to check the coast is clear and she isn’t about to open the doors and show herself flying in front of a whole bunch of people.
Since it is clear, she gets the doors open with pretty much no effort and then uses a burst of her super-speed to grab Lena and move her out into the hallway. Lena gasps into her ear with the movement, not registering what is happening for a moment, causing a massive rush of adrenaline because she thought, for a moment, that she was falling to her death.
Safe from their predicament, they end up in a hug, one that grounds the pair of them. For Lena, it provides a safety net, a warmth that proves she’s out of the situation, and for Kara, it’s a finish line. Proof she solved the problem and an end to a few nerve-wracking minutes where she thought she might have accidentally outed her identity.
“That was not fun. Shall we get out of here?”
Lena answers quickly. “Yes, and next time, I’ll make the plans for viewings.”
“I’m not going to fight you on that.” Kara smiles. “Let’s get back to the Tower so you can keep working on that security system.”
“Are you going to stick around for a little while or do you have to get back to the office?” Lena asks, locating the stairwell and beginning her descent.
Kara checks her watch, following close behind her. “Um, I have a little while but I’ll have to go in a bit, I’ve got to go and meet with a guy for an article so I only have just over an hour.”
They have never been so glad as to be out of a building as that one and Lena takes one last look at it before Kara flies them back to remind herself to never go anywhere near it again if she can help it.
She’s not a fan of flying but she had to admit defeat and simply gets Kara to agree to fly slowly because she couldn’t borrow Alex’s car since she’s having a day out with Kelly and Esme. It’s actually not too bad though, not when she closes her eyes and just relaxes into Kara’s strong body as she’s held bridal style.
They land on the balcony of the Tower and Kara’s not surprised when Lena makes her way down the stairs on shaky legs before heading right for the kitchen with only a mumble of, “I need a cup of coffee the size of my head and I need it stronger than any alcohol I’ve ever had before. In fact, maybe I’ll make it an Irish coffee.”
Kara has to keep an eye on her to make sure she’s not about to do any day drinking, at least not when she’s doing security things. It’s better to be safe than sorry.
By the time Lena is sitting back at her desk with her laptop open in front of her, she’s a lot more relaxed and she’s feeling much better, or her legs have stopped shaking at least.
Kara sets herself up at the end of her desk and gets her laptop out too, content to do some research for her article while Lena does her work, happy to be in the same space as her, especially since it’s a space they aren’t trapped in and it’s an actual room instead of an elevator, something that Lena would like to avoid where possible from now on. Lena’s going to have to learn where the stairs are in the Tower just to avoid the elevator but then again, she’s never seen any so she might just have to get J’onn to do a little bit of home improvement.
They work like that for a little while, simply just sitting in silence with the tap tap tapping of their fingers on their keyboards as they type filling the air. They both jump when a resounding knock breaks their concentration.
They turn to the door to find Nia standing there awkwardly, waving at them jauntily despite the awkward stance though.
“Hey, Nia. How are you?” Lena greets her. “How have you been?”
“Better.” Nia smiles, grabbing a chair and taking a seat, “I’ve been sleeping a lot better but I’m still having lucid dreams so that’s the main reason for that. I think that whatever is coming, is coming soon.”
“Winter?” Kara adds, completely unhelpfully.
Nia sighs and facepalms. “I don’t think this is Game of Thrones.”
“Bad joke, I see that now.” Kara’s cheeks redden in a blush that takes no time to cover her skin, “I’d take it back if I could.”
“As you should.” Lena winces, replaying the joke in her head and immediately wishing she didn’t. “So, Nia, have you noticed anything out that might make you think that it’s going to be soon before shit goes down?”
Nia nods, the movement hesitant, scared she’s going to freak them out. “I have.”
Lena’s eyes widen a fraction but that’s the only giveaway that she’s heard the sentence at all.
“A large portion of the aliens in the city have been on edge, at least they are on edge enough that they have been staying as far away from the social scene as they can. Al’s bar has been practically deserted this past week.”
“Al’s bar?” Lena questions.
“It’s an alien bar. We go there sometimes; you should actually come the next time we go but you keep turning us down when we ask if you want to come for drinks after work.”
Lena freezes at being called out for her aversion to going out with the team after work. She’s going to have to go with them sometime to prove them wrong now. “Right, yes. That makes sense.”
“I haven’t been able to find out what they all know that has made them do that but I’m working on it, it could really give us some good insight.”
“That sounds good, keep up the good work, Nia.” Kara smiles at her. “Actually, how about we head over to Al’s tonight? I can meet you there at six if you want to grab some fries and a couple of beers.”
Nia’s face lights up but there’s a devilish glint in her eyes that makes both Kara and Lena nervous. Only one of them needs to be nervous though. “Lena, I think this is your opportunity to broaden your horizons. I think your brainpower would be really useful out there today so you’ll have to come with us.”
Lena looks to Kara for help. She’s open to going someday, just not today. She faces a betrayal like no other as Kara’s eyes light up so bright she might as well be staring into a pair of disco balls with a flashlight beaming at them. “I think that’s a great idea, Nia.”
“Lena and I will meet you there at six then,” Nia confirms, cutting Lena off before she can even speak, the words rushing out because she saw Lena open her mouth to argue.
Upon realizing that she has no way to argue with them and becoming resigned to the fact she just sinks back into her chair, mentally preparing herself for the evening she’s going to have. “Whatever, it can’t be as bad as the day I’ve had so far.”
“What?” Nia tilts her head, confused.
Kara pulls a face, one of guilt and disdain for the events that transpired. “We went to view an apartment today.”
Nia looks mildly intrigued but doesn’t say anything, just waits for Kara to elaborate.
“We didn’t see the apartment but we did see the elevator because we got trapped in it and I had to fly us out of the top of it and onto the floor above.”
“I don’t know if I want to go out for drinks with the pair of you if you’re bringing bad luck with you.” Nia stretches and her back cracks with a pop that makes Kara’s lips pull down in disgust. Her body doesn’t often crack because of her physiology but the sound of it in other people makes her shudder in repulsion.
“I’m ok with not going.” Lena takes the opportunity.
“Don’t even bother fighting, Lena. It’s happening.” Nia shakes her head softly and there’s amusement on her face that makes Lena dread the evening even more. Today can’t get any worse.
Read the next 4 chapters early on Patreon here!
#supercorp#supergirl#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#cw supergirl#fanfic#supercorp endgame#supercorp fanfic#kara zor el#scientist lena luthor#joining the superfriends#wlw#fanfiction#chaoticsuper
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Before the Fever - Chapter Three
{Master Chief x Reader series - TV based}
{A╱N} This came out on AO3 a month or so ago, but as I’m gearing up to finally post chapter four, I’m finally getting around to posting it here to be caught up across both platforms!
{gif by maschinen-mensch}
Enjoy! ♡
Chapter Three - Chief, We Have Company
Air filled my lungs as though I hadn’t taken a breath in years. My point of view shifted before me in what felt like seconds, and I couldn't quite grasp what was happening. I felt detached and complete simultaneously, but the shock of what I’d just experienced left me in a heap on the floor, my already mangled shoulder smushed against the table. I wasn’t sure how I ended up there, my brain still processing the fact that I had just been standing, reaching, about to run…
Had I fainted? Was I dead?
My ears were ringing, my eyes were still open, entirely too focused and yet completely unaware. The world around me came back to life in a disconnected haze, a slow descent from wherever I’d shifted to.
Everything was a blur, muted from the sudden chaos that seemed to ensue before a wave of unknown serenity washed over me. I wasn’t able get a hold on whatever reality I was in now, I could only recall what I’d just seen– where I’d just been. I found myself hung up on how truly striking the vision was, possibly the prettiest environment I’d ever seen.
There was a sense of tranquility that seemed otherworldly in and of itself despite our standing in the expanse of the galaxy. Where there were so many planets and belts to explore, this held something different, something so much greater than the average planet. There was green grass, a warm climate, blue sky..
It all seemed to go on infinitely.
Looking up for what felt like the split second I stood there among the meadow, I noticed something more, something larger— what looked like a ring stretched above me with a brilliance that I wouldn’t have believed if I didn’t see it for myself.
It wasn’t like the rings on my home planet, not even close.
If I was honest, I wasn’t even sure anything I’d just seen had been real at all.
But so quickly did my heart pull me toward the mysterious field again. I felt deeply compelled to return to wherever this mystifying atmosphere was, as soon as I possibly could.
I tried to move my body, to pick myself up off of the floor, but my limbs felt weak, my mind bogged down with both the desire to go back and the need to wake up again. Blinking a few times in an attempt to further bring myself back to consciousness, my eyes felt heavy, as though they wouldn’t allow me to come back to Rubble just yet.
Once I gained my bearings again, I saw him, on one knee, head lifting slowly to meet my dazed stare through the shielded helmet he wore. A hand was steadying his large frame on the floor, and he looked far more poised and collected than I did still slumped against the table. Trying to compose myself, I shook my head slightly, my half-lidded gaze trailing around the room before landing back on the Spartan.
A breath escaped me before I could speak.
“What.. What was that?” was all I could ask, my voice seeming to crash around us in the quiet despite the softness I spoke with.
But the soldier remained quiet, not saying a word to me as he stood up. I wondered if he’d seen the same thing I did, or if I’d just been thrown into some kind of stupor. Maybe it was a dream– maybe he’d knocked me out and it was simply too quick and too hard for me to realize it.
His lack of response made me feel insane, like I’d suddenly become a victim of my own mind in those few seconds it seemed like I was in another dimension entirely. I tried to think of what else I’d seen, but the vision faded quickly with each new second of lucidity.
———
I saw her there, but turned around with her face to the sky, she didn’t see me. It wasn’t long enough for either of us to truly examine what we’d seen, to acknowledge each other’s presence in the vastness of the realm. The previous times I’d laid hands on The Artifact before, the visions I had weren’t nearly as clear. They felt like memories resurfacing, faded truths uncovered.
This girl seemed to take not only herself to this new world, but myself, as well. There were no memories, no sensations of anxiety or confusion. It was vivid, awe-striking. I felt glad to have removed the pellet, to be able to absorb what I could in those few short seconds.
But it was all still unknown. Somehow, something within her, within me, brought us to it. Halsey needed to know. This could be the breakthrough she’d been looking for. Maybe she could figure it out further– explain what was going on.
Who was she, who was I, how we were intertwined over this object?
Cortana snapped me out of my thoughts, speaking to me directly.
“I’m running a systems check, but everything seems to be… nominal. Your levels are completely normal– perfect, actually! Not like last time at all. Honestly, I was pretty sure you weren’t going to make it, and that all of this would end up futile.”
“Thanks, Cortana,” I spoke aloud, the sarcasm thick in my voice.
“She seems to have triggered something within The Artifact.. Perhaps we should bring her with us. Doctor Halsey might be interested to know that there’s something more going on here.”
I thought about it. She was probably correct. I had enough trouble with Kwan Ha on the venture from Madrigal. Just when I thought I had that taken care of, I pick up another tourist.
Great.
———
“Cortana?” I repeated in question, brow furrowed.
He certainly was strange. If the holographic vision of a woman was Cortana, I wondered why he was talking to her without her actually being present the way she was before.
He still didn’t respond to me, seemingly deep in thought as I watched him regain his composure and move from his spot, taking the last couple of steps toward the table. I could only look up at him, defeated for the moment. I was still too taken by what I’d seen, almost exhausted, though still extremely intrigued– more so now than I was before.
He closed the case around the object again, fingers careful not to touch it despite the thick gloves he was clad with. I quickly perked up. I hadn’t been able to see just what was in the case, and I really had no idea what precious treasure I almost had in my own possession.
Deciding it was probably better that way now, I let my gaze drift back to the window that held the stars in view. It wouldn’t hurt as much to think about the loss and the embarrassment of being caught so easily if I didn’t know what I was missing out on. What did I really expect? I should’ve been lucky I wasn’t being restrained and taken back to a UNSC base immediately.
Easing up again, I shifted to stand up in turn. The locks clicked and the titanium-covered Chief took the handle into his hand once more and turned towards the center of the room. Before I could ground my feet again, the blue flecks of light reappeared, quicker this time, revealing the interesting woman once more.
“Allow me to introduce myself, {Y/N}. I’m Cortana.”
The smile on her face was pleasant, her stance confident yet welcoming. I couldn’t help but silently gawk for a few seconds as I really got a better look at her. There wasn’t a chance for that before, I was too terrified for my life.
At a better glance, it was quite apparent that I had never seen anything like her: she seemed to run a range of familiarity and emotion. Where did she come from? Who was she? I had so many questions, but all I could manage was:
”How do you know my name?”
She seemed to be amused by my question.
“I’m a form of artificial intelligence designed to aid The Master Chief in and out of battle. In other words, if I didn’t know about you, I wouldn’t be doing my job,” she responded.
I paused. Everything seemed so easy, too easy. No one was rushing to take me into any kind of custody. From what I saw, it looked like the Spartan was completely preoccupied with the briefcase and getting it as far away from me as possible.
“So… You’re not going to kill me, then?” I asked them with narrowed eyes, almost in shock.
I had, after all, attempted to steal UNSC property, from a war machine, with no escape plan, and really no reason other than copping a little currency from whatever the item might’ve ended up being.
“No,” was all he said gruffly through the system in his helmet, and I turned to Cortana again.
“He’s not a man of many words,” she smiled in my direction, hands behind her back.
I knew I shouldn’t have continued, but curiosity got the better of me. These people were supposed to be killing machines, uncaring of anyone except themselves, their UNSC comrades, and whatever mission they were on. Letting me go seemed… against some kind of protocol.
“Why?“ I pressed directly toward the Spartan.
I really was on a roll tonight, wasn’t I? I should’ve left well enough alone. Anyone would’ve thought I had a death wish.
But I heard an exasperated breath escape him as he turned his head in my direction to speak, his body unmoving, still facing Cortana. His helmet caught the light of the stars in the window, the dark green seeming to gleam.
“Because you’re coming with us,” he stated as plainly as if I’d asked him the weather, lifting the case from its spot and bringing it back down to its rightful place at his side.
Ah. There it was. I knew I shouldn’t have asked.
“Wait, what?” I asked incredulously, still somehow surprised even though I was expecting this.
I backed up around the side of the table, eyeing them both with caution. “I am not going to be a willing participant in whatever this is.”
“Actually,” Cortana piped up, “you don’t have to be. Due to your sticky fingers, this is the proper course of action. The Master Chief was simply being polite.”
“Polite,” I repeated through an abrupt laugh, unable to believe it.
She almost had me for a second. I’d almost thought she was nice, maybe even on my side in some strange way. I didn’t want to believe someone… some thing, so lovely might be so cruel. Then again, I remembered just who I was dealing with. Cortana was a part of them. A part of him. A stranger with a penchant for stealing what looked like expensive items meant less than nothing to either of them.
“You can have your thing, okay?” I offered as though anyone thought I had any potential of taking it back at all. “I don’t want it. Just let me go.”
It felt like a lie, though. I wanted it. If the item in the briefcase was what sent me to my new world, I wanted to see what it had done to me, where it had taken me. All so suddenly I was wrapped up in a frightening addiction to the serenity it offered, the new and intriguing mysticism it awakened. I wanted to see the beautiful place again, to experience the tranquility I was enveloped in there.
But I also didn’t want to be held hostage by the UNSC or their Spartans. As The Master Chief stepped closer to me, it was clear that I didn’t have a choice anymore. I was as good as military property. All of the things I’d heard from The Rubble's inhabitants were about to be inflicted on me, no longer just horror stories told around street fires.
“What a lesson I’ve learned,” I began, a poor attempt to talk my way out of it. Was I guilting him? As if they had consciences.. “You bully me into losing my means of eating, and I sit here and allow it.”
The Spartan stopped then, staring at me for a moment before lifting his hands and gripping his helmet, the case still hanging in his grasp. In one swift movement, he removed the bulky metal from his head with a hiss and brought it down again.
There was no need to wonder if he was looking me dead in the eye or not anymore. He most certainly was.
“This isn't about learning a lesson.”
The moment he’d revealed his face, I couldn’t help but stare. He hadn’t been wearing the helmet when I stole “The Artifact,” but I didn’t bother to study him the way I felt compelled to now. My line of sight fell on his eyes, still seeming light in the darkness— his nose, his jaw, his lips…
Had he been this handsome in the alley? Am I finally losing my mind? I tried to shake off the thought without physically moving my head.
“My current mission is to bring the item back to the UNSC. The quicker it’s there, the quicker… We can figure out what it does. You’ve done something with it, something I believe would be useful in our research.”
It sounded like he had something more to say, like he was holding back. I took note of the way his voice sounded, how it held a masculine gruffness but still remained something akin to soft. It almost felt as though he was trying to convince himself, too.
"Done something to it..?" I trailed off, unsure of what he was talking about.
It was in the case, in his hand, seemingly unharmed. What had I really done?
“The fact that you stole it is something else entirely, and will be dealt with accordingly by the appropriate personnel once we’ve arrived.”
I was out of ideas to get myself out of the situation I found myself in all over again. Astra popped into my head. She would’ve charmed her way right out of this, we would’ve been walking out of here with smiles on our faces, maybe even the briefcase in hand! I terribly regretted leaving her behind, trying to keep her safe. It seemed she’d been the one keeping me safe the entire time. My lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.
“I don’t know why I’m explaining this to you,” he breathed again before taking a step closer to me.
“If you would let me explain—“ Cortana began again.
But her face quickly fell, a look of concern replacing her content features before she spoke up once more.
“Chief, we have company,” she stated with a seriousness I hadn’t heard before, and disappeared again.
His stance shifted as a loud roar replaced the silence around our little conversation. The Master Chief was suddenly extremely unconcerned with me as he threw his helmet back on, prepping for what was to come.
I looked around inside, searching the dark corners and peering down the hallway, nose scrunched at the noise. Without another moment to think, the door was being blown off, like locking it prior had been a fool’s task. I shrieked as plasma flew across the room, the gurgling sounds of a foreign tongue that I knew to be Sangheili shouting into the space that was so quiet just moments ago.
The Covenant...
Though they'd been mentioned around, though the language had been passed on to others and the tales told, I was almost shocked to see them for myself; shocked to know that they weren't just a horror story made up as some excuse for the UNSC to take over other planets. The last place anyone had heard of their appearance was Madrigal, but no one knew for sure. Judging by The Master Chief's lack of response to my earlier accusation, I now thoroughly believed what we'd all heard was true after all.
Fight or flight kicked in all over again, and my feet moved on autopilot, carrying me across the large sitting area and toward the hallway. I dodged the rift the best I could as it made its way further into the house with haste. Despite my sheer terror, I focused on finding an exit route.
Hiding seemed to be the only viable option as the other entrance and exit points were now blocked with alien forces. There had to have been somewhere I could hide out undetected.. I didn’t stand a chance against the plasma throwing beings.
It was hide and hide well, or perish. That seemed to be the theme of my evening.
Avoiding the decor that had been pulled from the walls and shoved off of larger pieces of furniture, I noticed in the few glances I took backwards that The Covenant was doing exactly what I thought they were going to do when I’d given The Master Chief a piece of my mind earlier: Fight with the Spartan. I supposed I should’ve counted my lucky stars that they weren't on another asteroid, destroying the majority of the residents who lived there instead.
The Sangheili seemed to be after the case he held onto as though his life depended on it— which it might’ve, now. One by one, he was bringing down the alienistic figures that were impossibly much larger than himself with ease. It wasn’t until he picked up one of their own weapons that the opposing side was cut down considerably, each body falling with a shriek in a puddle of purple.
But no matter how many times it seemed like he was making some headway, another group poured in to join the battle.
The stars seemed to pour into the room as I tried to keep away from the main event, and in one large heap, the ceiling collapsed inward. How we weren’t sucked into the abyss, I wasn’t sure. Some kind of atmospheric technology, I decided in a split second. It all felt so far beyond me, so much bigger than I could ever comprehend. I was just a girl from Rubble caught up in a pissing contest between the galaxy's “protector” and the universe's most wanted.
Reaching my destination, my trembling hand gripped onto the corner of the room at the end of the hall, ducking as I heard another loud blast ring through the chaos. I was almost home free, safe to find a spot to wait the disaster out, to escape the Spartan and his foes.
While nowhere was truly safe in this playing field, some kind of concealment was better than nothing. Just before I crossed the threshold, just before I could finally breathe a little, something grabbed my ankle with a painful tightness.
“Shit!” I screamed without thinking, tripping forward past the door, my body falling halfway into the room.
All that crossed my mind then was my failure. So close, but so far, watching as the furniture ahead of me seemed to shrink with each hard pull of my leg. This was it. I couldn’t talk or walk my way out of this one.
My heart painfully pounded in my chest with pure shock and fear, like accidentally missing a step on a set of stairs. I screamed again, fingers spreading out against the flooring, my nails surely leaving sharp marks in a manic attempt to find something, anything to keep me grounded. I needed to pull myself away from whoever, whatever had it’s paws on me— to keep me from meeting the fate I thought I was so close to avoiding so well. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder, not wanting to face the harsh reality of my mortality. I’d played enough games this evening.
Still, my eyes grew damp as I was dragged backwards and upwards with ease, right into the clutches of a being that seemed like an infamous fable. It growled at me while I dangled in its grip. My weight unfazed the beast, as though I were nothing more than a child’s toy or fragile prey to play with. This, I decided without needing to think too much, was far more frightening than any Master Chief.
I struggled against the alien, its frame tall and overpowering, allowing me to be no match for it. Still I tried nonetheless, kicking and squirming with every ounce of adrenaline I had left in hopes of making some kind of contact. I glanced over at the scene just feet away from me, the Spartan fighting alone, knocking hoards of their kind down like dominoes, swift movements making it all look easier than it probably was.
It wasn’t until I noticed a much larger Covenant soldier, what I recognized from other’s accounts to be an Elite, coming straight for him with a weapon that looked two sizes too big that my own voice escaped my throat without my brain signaling it to.
“No!” I screamed in his direction, trying with no avail to break free of the claws that had me. “Look out!”
But the nanosecond The Master Chief turned toward the Elite, he deftly lifted a glowing shield, taking the brunt of the hit and being flung back towards the wall. The case clattered to the floor, sliding across the room in the opposite direction. It was then that the alien stepped up to him, examining his limp body with an intelligible battle cry before turning toward me with a horrifying glint in his eye.
The creature that held me pointed some kind of device in my direction, watching as the end opened up and glowed brilliantly. I was waiting for a devastating blow, a brain-frying shock, the connection that would bring me out of this world for good— but it never came. Instead, I continued to resist; anxious, but still maybe a bit hopeful to be set free if they didn’t see what they wanted from me.
It all happened too quickly then— the Elite scooped up the case and rushed back in my direction, shouting at its comrade that held me. I was gripped with terror, the blood in my veins coursing through me faster than it had when I’d stolen the stupid thing to begin with. All reservations and prior notions melted away as I fought for my life. If The Covenant got ahold of me, surely whatever lay ahead would be far worse than anything I could’ve faced with the UNSC.
This was definitely one of those ‘I should’ve stayed home’ moments. While I didn’t exactly have a home, the place I had been staying sounded a lot better than where I currently was, and even better than where I was headed.
But I couldn’t shake the horror I was laced with. I needed help, my desire to survive the situation superseding anything else.
“Chief!” I finally shrieked, my voice faintly cracking with emotion as I tried to reach out for him, uncaring now of what I thought of him and where his loyalties stood. If I had any chance at surviving this now, it would be by his hand.
After all, he was humanity’s savior, and I was a human.
I panicked, desperate to reach him, desperate for him to hear me through the daze he still seemed to be in, limp against the wall. I hoped with everything I had left that he was still alive and breathing.
A blue ray of light beamed down from the newly opened sky. Before I could take another breath, I was being carried into its line of fire along with the Elites that were now taking me hostage instead of The Spartan and Cortana. Where was she, anyway? I was under the impression that her entire purpose was to help him...
I threw my fists into any point of contact I could find with the burly figure that held me tightly, nearly suffocating. “Chief, help! Please! Please wake up! Cortana! Please!”
My voice trembled, full blown tears welling up in my waterline. Terror wasn’t enough of a word to describe it. I’d always prided myself on being fearless… For taking on The Rubble and all of its ups and downs without a care or doubt in the world.
I mean, I attempted to stand up to a Spartan..
But I’d never come in this close of contact with this kind of danger before— not so helplessly. The UNSC, they had laws- Protocol. The Covenant? If the stories were true.. I’d be lucky if I made it back out alive and in one piece. That is, if I made it back out at all.
As soon as we reached the blue beam, upward we went. The only man strong and brave enough to save me disappeared before my very eyes as we glided into the threatening ship that hung above us. I’d only gotten a glance of it when the ceiling caved in, and the notion of just how huge it was didn’t make matters any better.
As quickly as they came in, we were gone, and The Artifact had come right along with us.
#master chief x reader#halo#master chief fanfiction#Pablo Schreiber#master chief#cortana#john 117#halo fanfiction#halo fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#halo tv series#halo tv#halo paramount#halo tv show#master chief fanfic#Pablo Schreiber fanfic#Pablo Schreiber x reader#halo paramount+
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Ogre explained at a VIP meetup once that his lyric style was partially informed by growing up with undiagnosed dyslexia and his untreated struggle to read and write, paraphrasing from memory he basically said he started writing his poetry focused on individual sounds rather than entire structured sentence and that was a lot of how his plays on words and the weird semi coherent rambling nature of his lyrics came about. I think it makes his writing so unique.
I’ve said it before but I think that Goneja is one of the best examples of Ogre’s lyric style, the lyrics just feel like this hazy somewhat lucid dream and the way they run into each other line by line and sound by sound is just to die for:
But honestly tons of his lyrics evoke this. I was looking at Past Present the other day and just so enamored but the way the lyrics ramble on and on with these semi-connected metaphors and symbols and how it’s not necessarily sensical if you look at each individual line but altogether creates these very distinct sentiments and concepts all circling around each other:
The funny thing is also that Ogre of course is credited for helping write a portion of the songs off of Ministry’s The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Taste, and I am almost completely positive that he wrote this portion verbatim in the song Breathe, because it is so standoutedly Nivek’s lyric style:
We are talking a band whose main lyricist writes shit like “In through the window, quiet as a mouse, no sound stirring throughout the house” and “I really want to break your jaw, I think I’m gonna have to break your jaw, gonna punch you till your face is raw, gonna punch you till I break the law” (LMFAO). I could actually write a damn essay on Al’s lyric style as well but that’s for another time. The point is “Hope springs eternal but there’s no conviction / Action mistaken for ransom is paid” very much evokes Nivek to me. The only other alternative is that it was Chris Connelly as his lyrics are also very flowery and poetic (“The open machine wounds unconscious diameters drained / The murder eclipsed by the moment of truth for a fragment of pain”), but I feel like “the world is insane” is just such a Nivek line. His combination of these sort of playful quips and use of words like creepy or insane combined with this otherwise complex lyric style is super distinct.
There is also something about Ogre’s lyrics that I love which is that like, sometimes the lyrics seem too confusing when you first hear them but if you actually know what they’re about they start to make more sense and you can follow the thought process. There is way more coherency than you might first expect. Like did you know the song “The Daze” is about writer’s block and procrastination?
Or like, some of them are obvious enough but actually getting into the lyrics you start being able to piece together meanings in ways even more complicated than on the surface, like Hexonxonx obviously being about environmental degradation and specifically the big fossil fuel companies and pollution but you start to get more and more out of these little fragments that Ogre is narrating through:
Same can be said for First Aid and the AIDS crisis.
And obviously none of this is really deep insight, I’m kinda just stating the obvious but ugh I just love the way his lyrics flow and connect in this sort of dreamlike semi coherent fragmented structure… so so so cool and unique and inspiring.
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thinking about ultraman blazar ep 1 in a non insane way
ok ive had like 20 hours to ruminate on the ep now and I think it's probably my favorite first ep of an ultra show i've seen so far. (though ive only seen the new gen shows and nexus so that could change when i eventually get to some of the showa stuff)
a lot of what I loved so much about it just had to do with how sort of sudden it felt? Like comparing it to the first eps of the last 3 shows it kind of didn't do any major worldbuilding at all for the new setting. It established the presence of kaiju and of a military response, then established that ultraman has been an urban legend for a few years but thats it. There's no time given to further exploring anything that couldn't be established with a few off hand comments about the situation.
I think the msot interesting part of the ep was actually just how it was so, straightforward? Like it feels like the events of the ep are happening in the same 25 minutes that the actual runtime takes, everything happens so quickly and at once that it makes it feel far more like an event we're seeing from a vouyeristic perspective. We're not getting any more than 2 perspectives either. It cuts between Gento and Nagura but thats it, it strictly stays between the perspective of the 2 skard members and never breaks that except to return to the members of Gento's team. for their reactions to what's happening.
I think the highlight of the ep was the actual fight itself though, completely putting aside that it takes up almost half of the ep's run time it feels like there's so much more going on than just being a fight. The character's reactions to it feel a lot more like, genuine compared to how first ultra appearences usually go. Like all the members of Gento's team jsut look baffled at what's happening, and the entire first half of the fight feels especially vouyeristic thanks to some of the angles used.
almost the entire firs half of the fight before the cm break is filmed form this specific angle, with any zoom in shots being from the same general perspective, and making the camera a lot more shaky, giving it the feeling of a video shakily recorded on someone's phone as they try to capture the absurdity of what's happening.
The 2nd half of the fight goes in for a lot more closeups and wide shots that leave this perspective but for it to have lingered here for so long just made the scale of the fight feel so much more real in the moment and on rewatches. Like in general I feel like this is the first time I've seen an ep that captured the absurdity of an ultra fight sow ell. It feels unreal in such an incredible way to see this fight unfold, and I mean that in the ebst way possible.
Im realizing just as I write this that the entire sequence feels sorta dreamlike, which is just reinforced by gento's moments of lucidity jsut before and after the fight where he seems to be recognizing himself as Blazar, only to presumably lose consciousness during the fight itself.
There's so much about this ep that just does like, nothing to explain the world, but I think that's one of the ebst parts. This whole ep felt like you were getting to peer into a random half hour in this setting, and by the end of the ep i had so many more questions about what was happening than I did going in. I can totally see why they would have shown ep 2 at all their pre release events instead of this one, since it feels so much mroe like an extended teaser of what's to come in the ebst possible way.
anyways tldr blazar is good as hell and I can't wait for next week
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i've seen takes that jgy started playing turmoil before the staircase, aka wwx comments that it would take 3months for turmoil to kill nmj (ch64) so obviously jgy started playing it a long time ago, causing all of nmj's anger, all of that was his fault.
but also the novel says that jgy made a decision on the stairs or gave something up then a few days later played for nmj (ch 49) and like...idk what that could be except for killing nmj, is there something else this could be?
is wwx right? is mxtx bad at timelines? is nmj kick 3 months in the past, what is the time between 49 and 50 (when nmj dies in 2mo)
idk this whole thing is fuzzy and if you have any clarification or insight i'd like to hear it
-🦊
Fox anon! I'm glad to hear from you, and I hope you're doing well. I'm sorry I took so long to answer this—I was trying to be thorough, you all can judge whether I succeeded.
Now, I think the first thing to note here is that WWX actually and explicitly observes the Song of Clarity working when JGY is playing for NMJ before the stairs (ch 49):
Since then, Jin GuangYao would travel from Lanling to Qinghe every few days, playing Sound of Lucidity to help quell Nie MingJue rage. He tried his hardest, without speaking even a single word of complaint. Sound of Lucidity was indeed effective. Wei WuXian could clearly feel that the hostile energy within Nie MingJue was being suppressed. And, when playing the guqin, the way that the two conversed and got along even had a hint of the peace they had before they fell out. He began to think that maybe the so-called busy reestablishing the Cloud Recesses was just an excuse. Perhaps Lan XiChen simply wanted to give Nie MingJue and Jin GuangYao a chance to ease their tension.
(emphasis mine)
I think this is pretty conclusive. WWX's observations on the spot override his conclusions after a) being extensively soaked in NMJ's anger/resentment (ch 48-50) b) the entire drama afterwards at Jinlintai including being stabbed through by Jin Ling (ch 50) and c) resting and recovering for four days (ch 63).
Moreover, let's look at what WWX actually says in chapter 63:
Wei WuXian, “Jin GuangYao’s spiritual energy isn’t high. He wouldn’t have been able to take someone’s life with just seven notes. And killing him this way would’ve been too obvious. He definitely wouldn’t have chosen a song so powerful. But, if he could use the reason of playing the Song of Clarity for ChiFeng-Zun to calm his temper and continued to play it for three months, would the song be able to act as a slow poison and catalyse ChiFeng-Zun’s outburst?”
He's asking LXC questions about Turmoil, because it's new to him and he doesn't understand everything about it. I think it's pretty clear here that he's starting from how long he saw JGY play for NMJ, and asking if that would be long enough, rather than definitively stating that it would have to take three months; nor is there anything in LXC's response ("… Yes") that suggests three months is any kind of necessary minimum.
So those are the facts at hand. And imho if you look at the text in the later Empathy, there's a great deal of supporting evidence as well. There's the moment you mention, where JGY seems to be making a decision:
Nie MingJue, “Then why don’t you sacrifice yourself? Are you any nobler than them? Are you any different from them?”
Jin GuangYao stared at him. A moment later, as though he had finally either decided on something or given up on something, he replied calmly, “Yes.”
He looked up. In his expression were some of pride, some of calmness, and some of a faint insanity, “I and they, of course we are different!”
I agree with you, he's deciding to give up on NMJ—and if it's something else, what is it? If JGY isn't giving up on getting through to NMJ here, what function does this line serve in the text?
And I think it's worth noting here, as I've noted before—when JGY is talking about how different his and NMJ's positions are, he says "Your background is noble and your cultivation is high"; and the "Your background is noble" part is 你出身高贵, with the 高贵 being the "noble" part. When NMJ is asking him "Are you any nobler than them? Are you any different from them?" the "Are you any nobler than them?" is 你比他们高贵吗—so the "noble" part is, again, the same word, 高贵. Given that JGY has just spent a great deal of breath explaining that he is different from NMJ precisely because of his less-noble background, this is very much a pair of questions that might quite justifiably make JGY feel like NMJ is just completely not understanding anything he is saying here at all.
Besides that moment, there is the way he approaches or interacts with NMJ, which is quite noticeably different after the stairs. If you look at the beginning of the stairs, he's trying to convince NMJ to let the XY thing go: he says that if XY is locked up for life and can't hurt people, this isn't too different from him being executed, and then when NMJ does not accept this, points out that it's JGY's father's command and he cannot simply go against it as NMJ wishes. Once JGY loses his temper, he is still presenting arguments for his position—which granted is now approximately "you're being a hypocrite and you don't understand things", but he is still arguing for it—that is, he is still trying to reach NMJ; he is acting as though on some level he believes he can get through to him.
But in attempting to convince NMJ about XY, he is not acting like someone who expects that NMJ is right about to die; because if he were expecting that, he could simply say whatever he likes to put NMJ off, knowing that he won't actually have to pay up. Similarly, in attempting to get through to NMJ via argument, however angrily, he is not treating NMJ as purely an object to be manipulated; NMJ's beliefs matter to JGY separately (I am not saying /only/ separately) from what those beliefs lead NMJ to do. To put it another way: he cares about what NMJ thinks. This too is something that prevents JGY from simply telling NMJ whatever he wishes to hear, and this, too, is lost at the stairs.
For after the stairs, telling NMJ what he wants to hear, and just telling NMJ something that will put him off because he knows or hopes he won't have to pay up, are exactly what JGY does. When he shows up at the Unclean Realm a few days later, he tells NMJ he's here to acknowledge his mistakes and that he's realized NMJ is "doing this" for him; he promises to bring NMJ XY's head in two months, and tells NMJ he can do whatever he likes with him if JGY does not. This is a significant change in behaviour from before the stairs, and in consideration with all the other evidence it seems to me that this is because, post-stairs, he no longer values what NMJ thinks of him, and he is now gambling on his killing NMJ before NMJ kills him.
The only area where he does push back now is NMJ's treatment of NHS, I suspect because he worries about what NMJ might do or continue to do to NHS in his remaining two months of life.
So: I really do think the evidence is pretty clear that JGY starts with Turmoil after the stairs, in that it is directly signalled by the text and in that all the evidence around it backs this up.
That said, I have seen other objections raised by various anti-JGY folk, and while some of them have more merit than others I think it's worth taking the time to go over them.
-JGY couldn't possibly have prepared the Turmoil music in the few days between the stairs and him starting to play for NMJ after.
Yes, I agree; he must have had it prepared earlier. But that only means that he had it prepared, not that he was using it, and while there are certainly people who will only prepare a weapon if they are sure they will use it, I really don't think JGY is among them. He might also have prepared it as evidence for his father that he was working on solving the problem.
-WWX didn't notice a difference between the music JGY was playing before the stairs and the music he was playing after; therefore, it must be the same music.
Honestly, I think that WWX just didn't notice. It's explicitly described as very subtle, and indeed he can't tell the difference between the altered passage and the rest of the song (ch 63):
Wei WuXian withdrew the flute from his lips, “It really is this section? But I don’t find this section different at all.”
And he again observes how similar they are in chapter 64:
And he combined them so well. They sound as though there were the same. His musical talent is indeed excellent.
His repeated observation that they sound just the same suggests that he could very well have failed to notice, I think, and indeed he would have heard the altered version more often.
There is also another explanation, entirely compatible with JGY only using Turmoil after the stairs. WWX says of JGY playing Turmoil that he must have "used little spiritual power" during the Clarity sections, and "only exerted power" during the Turmoil section (ch 64). So if we think WWX would definitely have noticed the difference, there is an explanation for how he nevertheless very clearly observed NMJ's hostile energy suppressed by the music; JGY might have been using his power during the (much longer) Clarity part, and only used a very little during Turmoil. Personally, I think that it fits better with the overall emotional arc if JGY didn't change the music he was playing until after the stairs; but I accept this isn't ruled out as a possibility.
I feel obliged to note that at one point, after I was challenged on the issue of JGY changing the music after the stairs and pointed out WWX noticing NMJ's hostile energy being suppressed, as above, I was offered as an explanation for the passage that JGY couldn't possibly have abruptly switched to Turmoil right away when he started playing for NMJ, because NMJ would have noticed that he was suddenly feeling worse; and that therefore WWX clearly feeling NMJ's hostile energy being suppressed was not really evidence that JGY was playing Clarity and not Turmoil before the stairs. But I disagree with this, on two counts.
First, it is not clear to me that NMJ would in fact notice. He does not seem to be very self-aware about the effects of the sabre curse. He explicitly denies it at the stairs, for example: "I am not [in turmoil]. I know what I'm doing" (ch 49). After he burns NHS' things, when JGY asks him if he's told NHS about the sabre curse yet, NMJ asks "Why would I tell him so soon?" even though at this point he is quite clearly being affected (ch 50). And when he kicks open the door to kill JGY in chapter 50, he seems not to think about the curse at all. Of course this last is moments before he qi deviates and dies and is therefore perhaps not representative, but it fits with the general pattern; I don't believe we ever see him consider whether his anger might be because of the sabre curse, and indeed he is hardly given to questioning the righteousness of his anger in general.
Secondly, and more abstractly...WWX observing the hostile energy being suppressed—"clearly feel[ing]" it being suppressed (ch 49)—may not be /literally/ incompatible with the idea that JGY changed music after the stairs. But a story isn't just a collection of facts, and I think by far the most natural interpretation of this, in context, is that JGY is playing Clarity and not Turmoil. Which is not of course to say you can't have a resistant reading here, but I think it's generally good practice to acknowledge when your readings are resistant readings, and especially if you have a resistant reading not to say it is the only possible reading of the facts.
-JGY has no motive for playing for NMJ other than wanting him dead.
If we assume rather that he doesn't want him dead, he pretty clearly has a motive to help keep NMJ's temper under control, both on a personal level (so NMJ doesn't attack or embarrass him) and on a political level (so NMJ doesn't lose it and embarrass JGS). I would also like to note that although it was some time ago, and it seems likely that even before the stairs JGY's feelings about NMJ are not as positive as once they were, we have seen JGY go to quite heroic lengths to save NMJ's life before, when he saves him from Wen Ruohan by misdirection and assassination then drag/carries his unconscious body rather than leave him there and make good his own escape.
-The stairs and the fan burning both happen before JGY starts playing for NMJ after the stairs; NMJ wouldn't do either of those things in his right mind…
I agree; the Nie have to deal with the sabre curse. I think it's worth pointing out, too, that aside from Clarity we don't see NMJ take any measures to try to deal with the curse, either directly in addressing the curse itself, or by preventing himself from acting excessively under the influence of the curse; it shouldn't be surprising, then, that the curse can cause such drastic incidents.
-…and the sabre curse wouldn't be strong enough.
This one really confuses me as an objection, I'm going to be honest. We can be pretty sure NMJ would have qi deviated eventually, Turmoil or no. NHS says this in chapter 26:
"The sabers of our past sect leaders were all heavy with hostile energy and killing intent. Almost every single sect leader met a sudden death from a qi deviation explosion. Their irritable tempers also had a lot to do with this."
(As a side note: the missing paragraph in the ER translation right after this has I think occasionally led people to the conclusion that it is the qi deviation and such that WWX suggests is similar to demonic cultivation, as opposed to the sabres turning murderous after the deaths of their owners—you can see the Taming Wangxian and the MDZS Translation versions for the full context of the exchange.)
So NMJ was almost sure to qi deviate eventually! Moreover, he would have greatly strengthened the sabre spirit through his extensive use of Baxia during Sunshot, and after the war he continues to pursue cultivating with the sabre, without, I think, any sign of moderation. And it seems likely that he is already showing recognizable symptoms of the curse by the time JGY starts playing for him alone, as Clarity seems intended to slow the progression of the curse and also like something relatively newly introduced—they don't seem to have been doing this since Sunshot just in case, or anything. So how then could we be sure that the sabre curse on its own would be insufficient?
-NMJ wasn't at all violent before JGY started playing for him
This is simply not true. Unfortunately we don't see much of him outside of Empathy, but looking exclusively at things that happen before JGY starts playing for him:
His reputation in Sunshot is about his destroying the Wen, contrasted with LXC's which is about saving people (ch 48):
During the Sunshot Campaign, stories of praise were told about all three of the Venerated Triad. The ones of ChiFeng-Zun were about how he swept over all obstacles, leaving not even a trace of the Wen-dogs after he finished. ZeWu-Jun—Lan XiChen—however, was different from him. After the situation of the Gusu area had settled down, Lan QiRen was able to defend it with great tenacity. Thus, Lan XiChen often travelled to aid others, saving lives from danger. In all of the Sunshot Campaign, he had countless times recovered lost territory and assisted narrow escapes. This was why people were ecstatic whenever they heard his name, as though they gained a ray of hope, a powerful trump card.
The description of his reaction to seeing MY kill the Jin captain pretty strongly suggests his initial reaction was to attack MY on the spot (ch 48):
Nie MingJue saw all of the scene. Without saying a word, he unsheathed his saber by an inch. A sharp ring pierced through the air.
Hearing the familiar sound of unsheathing, Meng Yao immediately trembled. He spun around, his soul almost evaporating, “… Sect Leader Nie?”
Nie MingJue pulled all of his saber out of its sheath. The body of the sword glared brightly, yet the blade itself vaguely glinted in the red shade of blood. Wei WuXian could feel the billowing anger from him, along with emotions of disappointment and hatred.
Meng Yao knew Nie MingJue’s character more than anyone else. He dropped the sword with a clang, “Sect Leader Nie, Sect Leader Nie! Please wait, please wait! I can explain!”
Even after he's listening, he ends up grabbing MY by the collar and lifting him up (ch 48).
When he's explaining what happened with MY to LXC, he announces his intention to kill MY if he ever sees him again (ch 48), and after MY kills WRH, saving NMJ's life in doing so, and is carrying him out afterwards, he grabs his sabre from MY's hand and tries to kill MY again (ch 49). He only stops when LXC physically blocks him, and changes his mind after LXC explains that MY was in fact a spy, and I think it's worth noting that WWX believes that MY would probably have died under NMJ's attacks before LXC arrived if NMJ hadn't been heavily injured (ch 49). We're also told the brotherhood oath 3zun swear is unusually violent, in a way JGY suggests, and which LXC notably does not refute, was decided by NMJ (ch 50). Finally, while this summary of NMJ's interests is arguably from WWX's perspective, it is still notable that the only two things he's apparently interested in are "training his saberwork and killing Wen-dogs" (ch 49)—which is to say, the study of violence, and a particular and fatal application thereof.
(Totally unrelated fun fact: I was looking at the entrance to the Phoenix Mountain Hunt for this too and apparently NMJ is seventh on the young cultivators list (ch 69). The more you know!)
I want to be very clear that I am not saying that all of NMJ's violence is unreasonable or not understandable. But that it can be reasonable and understandable does not mean that it is not violent; and it is certainly not the only reaction a person could have to the events he's reacting to. Contrast LXC, as someone rather on the other end of the spectrum.
-If NMJ were violent, JGY wouldn't risk his life killing him via Turmoil (and therefore NMJ must not be violent)
Even aside from the extensive textual evidence for NMJ's violence, I don't think this holds together. As shown above, I think it's quite clear that NMJ was in fact always a violent man, but there is absolutely no question that he's violent to JGY in his last months of life, and if you think JGY started playing Turmoil for NMJ before the stairs, then it's really extremely clear that JGY was willing to risk NMJ's violence in killing him! I think the clash between JGY's desire to live and the evident risk to his life from killing NMJ with Turmoil actually supports the position I am arguing here. Assuming we are agreed that JGY is attached to his own life, and as it's clear that as NMJ approached his end he was a danger to JGY (regardless of how that end was induced!), why was JGY playing him Turmoil?
I think the stairs make it clear to JGY that his life is not safe while NMJ is still alive. Using Turmoil, therefore, becomes a gamble he is willing to take, though still an enormously risky one: on the one hand, it appeases his father and enables him to promise NMJ he can do whatever he likes with JGY if he doesn't kill XY in two months (ch 50), a promise he obviously and understandably has no intention of keeping. But on the other hand, if NMJ doesn't die within the two months, he probably will simply kill JGY—and more than that, given his focus on JGY, he may kill JGY anyway, for some much more trivial reason. Indeed, this is exactly what almost happens just before NMJ's death, when he kicks open a door and attempts to kill JGY on the spot because JGY was complaining to LXC about NMJ's treatment of him; if LXC hadn't blocked NMJ's sabre, JGY would almost certainly have died (ch 50). But as risky as this gamble is, it is still a better bet than waiting around and hoping LXC always saves him when NMJ tries to kill him—especially taking into account the risk from his father should he do so.
-The stairs incident was good for JGY and bad for NMJ, which is evidence that JGY arranged it on purpose
...I have a lot of things to say about this position. None of them are very nice. However, as I am in fact trying to argue in good faith, I will attempt to address it as an argument.
I think this comes from a confusion of the fandom reaction to the stairs with the in-universe reaction to it. To people now, yes, looking at this makes NMJ look bad, and inspires sympathy for JGY. In-universe, however—when NMJ publically assaults JGY and tries to kill him, when he calls him Meng Yao, when he shouts he's the son of a prostitute, it's not /NMJ/ who looks bad. NMJ of course is righteous in his anger; really he's only putting that boy in his place, don't you think? I knew Chifeng-zun didn't really accept him. Etcetera. It /weakens/ JGY's position, because the cultivation world does not have the same beliefs and priorities and value judgements that we do!
Certainly if he'd actually managed to kill JGY he would suddenly have found that he had killed JGS's beloved son, the only remaining son of the Jin, a war hero, his own sworn brother who had saved NMJ's life etc etc etc. But only because then there would have been political advantage in it for JGS, and quite substantial political advantage too, and he wouldn't have to deal with JGY being around anymore. As it stands, all NMJ's actions at the stairs do for JGY is tell the world that he is vulnerable and weak and disgusting. The only significant person in-world who would find JGY more sympathetic after this incident is LXC, and frankly a) he is already deeply in sympathy with JGY and b) we don't see JGY playing it up—after LXC's appearance at the stairs rather he minimizes and soothes things, and even when we overhear his complaints to LXC around two months later he is talking about what NMJ thinks of him, and not the physical danger NMJ poses.
I will also observe that while JGY does end up losing his temper, he starts off soothing even through NMJ's first attempted assault, and only loses it after NMJ calls him Meng Yao and says "your whole thing stopped working on me since a long time ago" in front of everyone; this attempted conciliation seems an odd thing to do were he in fact trying to manipulate NMJ into assaulting him, trying to kill him, embarrassing him and weakening his position in public. You could argue that NMJ would be more angered by JGY's attempts to be soothing than he would by JGY's directness, and thus the soothing could be read as provocative, but this simply isn't backed up by the text; while NMJ was obviously already angry before JGY lost his temper, he nevertheless escalates significantly after JGY talks back.
Moreover...I think what NMJ actually does and tries to do at the stairs, in terms of violence, is sometimes not fully grasped.
The first thing he does once they're properly outside is try to hit JGY, though fortunately JGY manages to dodge. When NMJ kicks him down the stairs, even aside from calling JGY the son of a prostitute, JGY ends up rolling down more than fifty steps and acquiring a head wound—/another/ head wound, because he already had one, apparently from the physical abuse he receives at Jinlintai from Madam Jin. And finally, NMJ actually /unsheathes his sabre/ and, after LXC approaches, announces his intention to kill JGY:
Lan XiChen, “Brother, sheath your saber first—your mind is in turmoil!”
Nie MingJue, “I am not. I know what I’m doing. He’s beyond hope. If these keeps on going, he’ll do the world harm for sure. The earlier he’s killed, the earlier we can relax!”
(ch 49)
When I say that NMJ almost killed JGY at the stairs, I am not just talking about kicking him down the stairs, although that certainly could have killed JGY. I am talking about drawing his sabre on JGY with the intention of killing him. JGY would very likely have died if LXC hadn't thought they were taking too long and come to see.
JGY can certainly take enormous risks when it's necessary—but for a risk like this he would have to be gaining something extremely significant, and I remain unconvinced he was gaining anything at all, let alone anything worth the cost.
-NMJ's actions at the stairs and his burning NHS' things are completely unrelated to any of his previous actions and motivations.
In fact, although they're certainly both significant escalations, I think that in both cases NMJ's motivations and actions draw extensively from preceding characterization.
Consider the stairs. The direct classism is certainly new, but there are several other elements that have already been established as part of NMJ's characterization: the tendency to violence, the investment in JGY behaving correctly even while ignoring incorrect behaviour around him, the approach to justice both in his particular and frequently-retributive idea of it and in his commitment to that idea, and a failure to understand the realities of JGY's position.
The violence I discussed above, and the failure to understand JGY's position has I think been discussed sufficiently elsewhere and besides would be a full post in its own right. As to NMJ's approach to justice, you can see both idea and commitment to it in his anger to the men speaking badly of MY (ch 48) and his appreciation and promotion of MY for his accomplishments (ch 48); his initial intention to kill MY after he catches him killing the Jin captain (ch 48), his subsequent insistence that MY turn himself in to the Jin (ch 48) and his intention to kill MY for his betrayal after MY tricks him and escapes (ch 48); his initial insistence that MY should pay for killing the Nie cultivators, even as he acknowledges that MY saved his life and says he will kill himself after he kills MY (ch 49); and of course in his insistence that WQ and WN should pay for their complicity with WRH, even in the face of LXC and JC's defense of them (ch 73). And in describing LWJ as "absolutely [unable to] stand wrongdoings, possibly even more than Nie HuaiSang’s brother" (ch 30), WWX implies a great deal about the extent of NMJ's inability to stand wrongdoings. Of course, not all of these instances involve NMJ seeking violent retribution as justice, but a significant portion do—about half—and it is certainly a recurring theme. This approach to justice, I should add, is certainly involved in attempting to punish JGY for his misdeeds by killing him, but it is also part of why he is so upset in the first place: in NMJ's view of things, holding XY in prison instead of executing him for his crimes is failing to see justice properly done.
The investment in JGY behaving correctly, even while caring less about the behaviour of other people around him doing the same, is likewise an established character note. WWX concludes that NMJ's desire to guide JGY is one of the main reasons he agrees to the brotherhood (ch 49); we see his disapproval of JGY associating with XY, who already has something of a bad reputation, at the Flower Banquet (ch 49); at the conference after WWX rescues the Wen, when JGY backs up his father's lie about what WWX said about JC, NMJ seems to mark it more heavily than JGS' initial lie (ch 73). And then, of course, there is this, from the scene just before JGY starts playing for NMJ (ch 49):
In reality, it wasn’t that Jin GuangYao could calm Nie MingJue’s anger, but that since Jin GuangYao came, all of Nie MingJue’s anger would be directed at him alone, having no time to scold others. Thus, there was nothing wrong with saying that he was Nie HuaiSang’s knight in shining armor.
While NMJ's actions at the stairs are certainly not something he'd have done without the sabre curse, and again the direct classism is new, it nevertheless very much ties in to his preexisting characterization.
What about the burning of NHS' things? Again, many elements of the situation derive from NMJ's preexisting characterization; in this case, his tendency to release his anger on physical objects, his desire for NHS to be a strong cultivator and his angry displeasure with NHS' actual interests and capabilities, and his threatening to burn NHS' things.
Although prior to the burning of NHS' things it seems to be usually a momentary lashing out, NMJ definitely has a history of releasing his anger on physical objects. When he is annoyed at the men speaking badly about MY, he knocks down (or carves up? the English is unclear) a boulder at the front of the cave (ch 48); when he decides not to kill MY after LXC explains MY was their spy, he carves a boulder in half (ch 49); and he cracks the top of a table by bringing his palm down on it in the scene just before JGY starts playing for him (ch 49).
As to NMJ's desire for his brother to focus on and do well at cultivation, and his displeasure at NHS' actual areas of focus, this is perhaps one of his most consistent beats of characterization. We see it in our introduction to NHS at the Cloud Recesses lectures (ch 13); in NHS' plea for WWX's help with the test (ch 14); in LXC's message to NHS from NMJ and NHS' reason for staying in CR instead of going to Caiyi Town (ch 16); in WWX's reminiscences about NHS after discussing the "Man-Eating Ridge" with the "know-it-all of Qinghe" (ch 21); in NMJ and LXC's discussion when NMJ brings LXC NHS' sabre during in Sunshot (ch 48); and of course in the scene just before JGY starts playing for NMJ, both in his initial anger at NHS' preoccupation with the fans and uncertainty about his sabre's location, and in his dismissal of NHS as a "good-for-nothing" even after his temper had faded (ch 49).
The threatening to burn NHS' things, on the other hand, I believe we only see once, and really in the form of "instructing NHS to burn certain specific things of his"; but it is in the very scene before JGY starts playing for NMJ, as NMJ tells NHS to burn the fans he has just been going over tenderly before JGY interrupts (ch 49).
Indeed, I think that scene in general is very much worth a look here, for what it has and for what it doesn't. On the one hand, we do see NHS' fear of NMJ—he literally falls to his knees in terror, and stutters even after getting up! But he also seems fairly comfortable after the worst of NMJ's anger passes, and when NMJ sends him off he goes not to his room as instructed, but to the living room for the gifts JGY has brought him. Yet many of the elements of NMJ's later destruction of NHS' things are present here, and to my mind one of the most important things about the scene is its illustration of what prevents NMJ from carrying out the threats he made in his anger. It's not that he's convinced he's being unreasonable—indeed, he doesn't seem to consciously change his mind at all. Instead it is simply that repeated interruptions and NHS's ridiculous appearance as he greets JGY end up draining his temper, and with his temper drained he no longer pursues punishing NHS. But this has obvious implications for what might happen if NMJ's anger did not diminish, and I think it's quite clear how the behaviour NMJ exhibits in this scene could lead to NMJ burning NHS' things simply by giving him a more sustained burst of temper, even as it is not something NHS ever expected to happen, or something that would happen had NMJ's temper not been worsened by the sabre curse.
To conclude this section—while NMJ's actions at the stairs and in burning NHS' things are certainly unprecedented in themselves, they are nevertheless solidly rooted in NMJ's preexisting characterization, and it's easy to see how the sabre curse could lead to these extreme escalations.
To conclude the post, I think the direct evidence is quite clear that JGY was playing Clarity before the stairs, and I think the indirect evidence also significantly supports it; nor am I convinced by various objections I have seen, for reasons I hope I have conveyed.
#more than one tag could contain#anger burned in his heart#we can't change places#long meta#and thank you very much to confusion-and-more for looking it over + their extremely helpful suggestions and revisions#this post would not be the same without them
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I see you mention writting for kakashi?👀 what kind of yandere do you think he'd be? Love all your writting byw! Thank you for the brain rot💖💖💖
Ty ty :3 I'm glad you enjoy!!
God I love Kakashi bc he's been in my life for... like 2/3 of my life now? The first characters I ever remember being attracted to were Kakashi, Inuyasha, and Zuko lol. I was like 6/7 years old for all of them. Kakashi absolutely gave birth to my sensei/mentor figure kink lmao. I'll probably write a profile for him eventually but have some HCs in the meantime!!
- It would depend a bit on reader-chan tbh. Like, if he's in a position of authority over you, he's gonna kinda feel guilty and struggle with that a lot. Me inserting my teacher kink ngl but I feel like he would kiiiinda have a guilty pleasure for it, gets off a bit to the power he has over you. (Obvs adult reader-chan, but an authority nonetheless).
- Definitely a guilty yandere. He's just lucid enough to feel like what he's doing is wrong, to know there's something wrong with him, and it eats at him at first, but it's just too good. You're just too good, he wants you too bad, and he ultimately consciously chooses the selfish desire over the voice in his head telling him he's doing something wrong. Again, he'd feel guilty, it would really bother him, and it would tear him apart if he ever kills for you or feels like he's forcing you, but it's just not enough to stop him.
- He would be protective as all hell. He's not a super delusional type but I can see him vastly overestimating the threats to y/n. Ooooh and it gets so much worse is y/n is ever in actual danger. Remember how protective he was of team 7 back in the OG series whenever they were in real danger? He's just - he would be like a guard dog tbh. If you get annoyed or creeped out by it, he will stop... visibly. He'll just be more secretive about it, and trust me, if he doesn't want you to detect his presence, he'll do a damn good job of making sure you have no idea he's there. He's patient and has a lot of restraint, and would hold back for a long time, content with stalking, fantasizing, and keeping you isolated from other people. It would probably take some kind of significant event, something where you were almost badly hurt or even killed, or someone threatening you, or perhaps some guy persistently chasing after you, for him to finally snap, delusion-style, and become convinced that you need him to take you away, that he needs you to be safe, you need HIM to keep you safe.
- It's not that he wants to be overbearing, it's just... he's lost so much. He's on the paranoid side of delusion, he just doesn't want anything to hurt you, he can't take that anymore. The man has lost so many things in his life and has suffered psychologically because of it. He generally would keep people kinda distant to begin with, so if you earn a place in his affection he's going to be insanely protective. Rejection wise, interestingly, he just kinda... ignores it. In one ear, out the other. He's one who can convince himself that you'll come around, even if it takes a lot of self-convincing, as he's not super delusional enough to automatically believe it. He'll likely just correct you, tell you no, he's just a guardian figure for you, nothing more.... for now.
- He can summon a pretty intimidating presence when he tries to, and he clearly has a ferocity deep down when he needs it. Enough to drive off people - and that's how he'd utilize it, he'd be one of the ones that very quietly and subtly, slowly scares off any perceived competition. He's not blatantly aggressive - no, he'd be very subtle as he goes about getting rid of people that he sees as being in his way. You won't know it's him, he won't be aggressive towards anyone in front of you -- when you're there, he smiles and nods and treats your friends very well. Hell, they probably won't even know who's behind it, they'll receive subtle warning signs, likely written things, with clear threats to back off. He's smarter than to directly confront them, and have them know who he is. He can eliminate them without needing to do it personally. He's not entirely above killing, but it would be a last resort.
- What's really difficult about him is that, even in a snapped, delusional state, he maintains his demeanor, the bored-sounding, laid back, low energy, and very competent, serious guy he usually comes across as. That's what ultimately will break your own mind -- usually, delusional yanderes are fairly obvious. It's clear they're out of their mind, their facial expressions and nearly hysterical mannerisms make it clear they're crazy and give you at least the reassurance that you're in the right and that they've lost it, that you need to be saved from them, not the world. With Kakashi... you feel like you're the crazy one. After all, he maintains that same demeanor he always has, he doesn't look, sound, or seem crazy or delusional in any way. He just sounds exasperated when you panic, like you're being ridiculous, as if you're a whiny brat and he's just... tolerating your tantrum. He says everything so calmly, in such a matter-of-fact manner, you can't help but feel like... maybe he's right. Maybe everyone was really out to get you. Maybe you really were too naive to see it. Maybe he really is just looking out for you, and maybe you really are being horribly ungrateful. Maybe you're crazy and he's perfectly sane, and once you start to believe that, he'll feed that idea until you're too afraid to leave even if he let you.
- Sex wise, I feel like he'd actually be very sweet and loving about it all, definitely a passionate kind of lover. As time goes on and he gets more comfortable, though, he gets into anything that gives a sense of control and possession. People who are into bondage on the giving end often like having a sense of control, of stability, and it puts them at ease, and he's no different. He likes the feeling of knowing you can't move, even if you try, of having complete and total dominance over you. Would definitely get into shibari -- not only does it contribute to the control factor, but he likes the aesthetic beauty of it all, seeing the bright red rope in contrast against your skin.
- Possession ties into marking kink -- bites, hickeys, scratches, he just wants to see evidence of him on you. It's reassuring, even. Edging as well, he likes feeling like he controls not only your environment, but your very body itself. He can get rough if he's in a certain mood, particularly stressed out from his responsibilities, and would probably very much be a brat-tamer as well, so don't piss him off... Unless, you know, you *want* him to get a lil rough with you.
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Blood Hungry: Part Four
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: ~2.6k
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.
Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take
“His name's Eddy Mays and he’s twenty-one-years-old,” Sheriff Halls says.
Eddy is sitting inside the cell looking dazed and wild. All you can feel is the insanity coming off of him and see the angry red energy pouring out of every pore. He’s not well, but you think you can get through to him if you really try. This kind of person needs to be handled with delicacy, and you’re the only one who can do that.
“Wait, Mays?” you ask.
“Do you know him?” Hotch asks.
“Yeah. I just can't believe a boy like Eddy would do something like this. He was the nicest kid you ever saw.”
“He's mentally ill, sheriff. A boy like Eddy could truly use an insanity plea in a court of law,” Spencer says.
“You know, the ironic thing about psychotic illness is generally they're less violent than the rest of the population. But by the nature of psychotic delusions, when they do get violent…” you trail off.
“We're never gonna get anywhere with him. Not like this. Look at the guy. You can't read him is rights. You can't even process him,” Derek points out.
“I better call his mother. It's a damn shame. His daddy died just a couple years ago. This is gonna fall awful hard on her,” Sheriff Halls sighs.
“What's the family like?” Hotch asks.
“His dad was a doctor and Mary Gwathmey Mays comes from one of the oldest families in Tennessee.”
“I'd like to meet her.”
“We already have,” you say and look at Elle who just nods.
“Good get her,” Hotch says and leaves the group.
“I can probably get through to him. He needs to be handed with care, and I’m the only one who can connect to his insanity,” you whisper to Derek.
“Tell Hotch that,” he whispers back.
You push yourself off the walls of the cell and head over to Hotch who situates himself in front of a computer that has a webcam. He’s going to call Penelope to see what kind of dirt she could dig up on Eddy and his family.
“Hey, Hotch, I think you should let me talk to this guy. I’m the only one who can see what’s going on inside his mind. I might be able to relate to him more.”
“Fine, you’re the lead with this one,” he nods and clicks on the invitation for the video chat sent by Penelope.
“Hey, Garcia. Talk to me,” Hotch says once her face pops up.
“So, I got a hold of Eddy's roommate in college who describes Eddy as having an overprotective mom,” she begins.
“How overprotective?” you wonder.
“She called him, like, three times a day. And get this, one time she went up to Boston to break him up with a girlfriend she didn't like.”
“Wow,” you and Hotch scoff.
“Yeah. It seems like Eddy's entire college experience was some sort of post-adolescent rebellion. He partied like an eighties clubber. He suffered a delusional break due to methamphetamine and rock cocaine consumption.”
“Wow, that is partying like an eighties clubber,” Hotch grins.
“That basically describes my older sister’s life to the T,” you shudder at the memory.
“Right. So then, uh, he was admitted to a mental health facility in Boston. He checked himself out a week ago and then found his way home.”
“What was his major?” you ask.
“Comparative religion.”
“Appropriate,” you comment.
“Thanks. Um, how is it having Gideon around?”
“Uh, you can have him back whenever you'd like,” she says.
She tries to hide her annoyance, but you know it’s there. Hotch only laughs and says his goodbyes before ending the video chat.
“If we’re going to get anything out of him, he’ll need to be medicated. I can tell you right now I won’t be able to get anything in his state of mind. His energy is spiking everywhere.”
“Then call a doctor. Get him sedated.”
“Yes, sir,” you nod and head off to call a doctor.
While you did that, JJ and Hotch talked with Eddy’s mother to see if they can get anything out of her before it’s time to talk with her son. You didn’t go with them because you wanted to observe Eddy for a while to get a feel of how you’re going to approach him. It’s weird to say, but the crazier they are, the more you connect with them. Not everyone can see it, but the crazy ones leave themselves wide open for people like you to come in and read them like an open book. The more lucid a person is, the more they have control over their conscious mind. They are able to control how closed off they seem to other people. “Crazy” people don’t get that choice, so it’s an open invitation to people like you.
In all your years of doing this, you have never met another person who could do the things you can do. Maybe… no, you can’t think about her in a time like this. In fact, you’ve locked everything that has to do with her inside a steel room. You refuse to think about her.
Mary Mays needs to stay at the station while you talk with her son, so she’s waiting in one of the comfortable waiting rooms. The doctor just gave Eddy everything he needs in order to answer some questions even though that’s not why she gave him the medicine in the first place.
She exits the holding cells and walks over to you and Hotch who are waiting for her.
“I've administered the haloperidol to Mr. Mays.”
“How long until it takes effect?” Hotch asks.
“It's coming on now with the full effect in about fifteen minutes or so. You have to realize that while the drug will make him appear to be asymptomatic it will not necessarily remove his delusional state.”
“Will it make him more lucid?” you wonder.
“Possibly. But let me make this clear. I gave him the shot because he needed to be medicated, not so you could agitate him by putting him through an interrogation. That boy needs to be hospitalized.”
“Well, a jury might agree with you, but right now he needs to answer some questions 'cause there's a little boy we need to find. Thank you,” Hotch nods and heads into the holding cells.
You, Hotch, and Spencer approach Eddy, and your boss gives you the okay to begin questioning him. Both agents will be lingering in the background just in case help is needed, but this one is all on you. Eddy is sitting in the corner with his knees to his chest and his fingernails in his mouth. The medicine did help, but not by much. You carefully take a seat on the bed and stare at the man who couldn’t look at you.
“Hi, Eddy,” you say gently. “Do you know where you are?”
He shakes his head and stares at the ceiling, but he answers correctly.
“Jail.”
“That's right. Do you know why?”
“I was very bad. Before, I was very bad. But I'm... I'm much better now, much... much better,” he stutters.
“Eddy, do you remember hurting anyone?” you ask, and all he could do is stare at you. You don’t know why it was at this question that he can look at you, but you know he won’t answer it. You decide to go in a different direction. “Where did you go to college, Eddy?”
“Mm, Boston,” he smiles.
“Did you like Boston?”
“Mm-mmm. No. I don't know,” he stutters and bites his nails some more.
“What was your favorite thing about Boston, Eddy?”
“Harvard time square, I had cappuccino,” he smiles at the memory.
You nod and look at Spencer, and he hands you the picture of Wally. You take it and show Eddy the picture of the happy young boy whose life depends solely on you.
“Eddy, do you remember Wally? Wally Brisbane?”
“I know the Brisbanes,” he lights up as if you gave him a present on Christmas morning.
“You took this little boy. I believe you don’t want to hurt him, but you have him somewhere.”
“No. No. I did not,” he begins to point angrily at the picture and scrunches up his face angrily, “I did not do that.”
“Eddy, I know you’re uncomfortable, okay? I wish I didn’t have to do this, but a little boy’s life depends on this. Look at your hands, Eddy. They’re cut up and you have bruises on your arms. Do you know why that is?”
“Yeah,” he whimpers painfully after looking at them.
“You killed three people, Eddy,” you sigh.
“You killed three people, Eddy,” he repeats while making eye contact with you. “You killed three people, Eddy.”
You need to get on with this because it’s going nowhere. You look at Spencer again and he hands Eddy pictures of the crime scene for each victim. Pictures you know will upset him, but it’s necessary.
“Paul Thompson. Annie Stuart. Lynette Giles,” Spencer says each of their names as he shows Eddy them.
With every picture Eddy sees, he grows more and more agitated. He clearly hates what he’s done, but it’s like his mind doesn’t want him to know he’s the one who did it. However, the sane part of him is trying to break through to tell him he’s in a lot of trouble. There are two sides fighting inside his mind, and it’s clear he doesn’t know which side to listen to.
“No! No! Stop it!” he yells at himself.
“I tried, but we're not going to get anything out of him. It’s up to his mother to help us find Wally,” you sigh and get up.
You and the other two agents leave the holding cell while Eddy yells at himself. It’s almost as if he has two personalities and both of them are coming out to respond to the other. All of this is taking place in his mind, and you kind of feel sorry for him. He wasn’t always like this, and you have a feeling his mother had something to do with it.
“We need him to tell us where that boy is,” Sheriff Hall insists when you and the two men exit the holding cell.
“Sheriff, we're not gonna get anything out of him until he gets this latest episode under control,” you shrug.
“Agent Y/L/N, it's getting cold and dark. If that Brisbane boy is anywhere outside, he won't stand a chance in hell.”
“I understand that, Sheriff, but putting too much strain on his mind will cause him to have a complete breakdown. I’m telling you right now, we will not get anything out of him because he believes he’s done nothing wrong in the first place. There are two battles going on inside his mind. The rational side and the insane one. The insane is clearly winning. His rational side came out when we showed him pictures of the victims, but it’s too small to overpower the other side.”
“How do you know this?”
Before you can answer him, Deputy Long screams at everyone to come back to Eddy. Her screams are so loud that everyone in the station hears, including his own mother. Everyone heads over to see what’s wrong because something clearly is. You waste no time rushing over to her. Eddy is trying to hang himself by the small barred widow above the toilet with the sheets that were on the bed.
His mother completely freaks out and tries to go to him, but Elle holds her back. You, Hotch, and Sheriff Hall rush inside the cell and try to help Eddy down. He’s choking and trying so hard to end his own life, but you’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen. He’s lucid enough to want to end his own life, and you know the rational side of his mind drove him to it.
Like you said, you feel so bad for him.
When you met Mary Mays, you know she was kind of sketchy to begin with, and apparently, the rest of the team thinks so as well. Hotch gave you the rundown of his interview with her earlier, and apparently, she lied to him before. She didn't even mention that her son was in a mental hospital in the first place, and when you called the hospital, they claimed that he called her to pick him up but she never came. Why would she lie about that? She’s definitely hiding something; you can feel her deceit radiating from her body.
“Why weren't you straight with us, Mrs. Mays?” Hotch asks in the safety of the waiting room.
“Straight with you?”
“You never told us your son was in a mental hospital.”
“I spoke with a doctor at a facility in Boston. He said Eddy was released a week ago and that he called you to pick him up, but that you never came,” you say.
“You asked me if I knew if he'd come home, and I didn't. I... I thought he was in Boston,” she lies again.
“There was also blood on the floor of your utility room. Do you have any explanation for that?” you cross your arms.
When Derek and Elle went to check out her house, they found blood underneath her fridge that she happened to forget to clean up. Plus, the place smelled like bleach. Weird, huh?
“Well, sometimes I cut my legs when I prune the roses.”
“You prune your roses in winter?” you ask as you take a step to her.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she becomes hostile and stands up to get in your face. “When do you prune yours?”
“Mrs. Mays, I understand that you may want to do everything you can to protect your son, but that little boy may be dying right now,” Hotch intervenes as Spencer lightly pulls you away from her.
“I would like to help you, I really would. But right now, I've got to see about my son.”
“I think it's better if you stay here,” Spencer suggests.
Every agent leaves the room to let her cool off her own head, and you shrug yourself out of his grip. Eddy was taken to a hospital immediately when the Sheriff knew he wouldn't be of any help now that he tried to kill himself.
“She's definitely lying. I don't know exactly what she's lying about, but she's lying,” Hotch determines and looks at you.
“Don’t look at me. Her mind is so closed off, I can’t get a read on her. Whatever she’s hiding, she really doesn’t want anyone to find out.”
“You don't think she'd let that boy die to save her son, do you?” JJ asks.
“I don't know.”
“She drives a Cadillac, right?” you ask, suddenly getting an idea.
“Yeah, why?” Elle wonders.
“They got a GPS system in them.”
“So…?”
“So, let’s see where she’s been. Let me tell you, technology doesn’t lie,” you chuckle and head outside to her car.
Derek, Hotch, and Elle follow you to her car, and after Hotch demanded to see her keys. She thinks you’re searching her car when really, you’re going to figure out where Wally is. You unlock the driver’s door and slide inside, and Derek slides into the passenger seat while Elle and Hotch linger by the window. After you turn the car on, you look up her search history on her GPS.
“This thing has got every stop she's made and how long she spent there,” you scoff.
“You know, these things could cause more divorces than internet porn,” Derek jokes until he sees something very interesting. “Hey, look at that. That's interesting.”
“Apparently, she stopped at the same place on route three like six times. Wally’s there. I can feel it,” you nod.
“Then let's get Mary and take her to that spot. We can tell her that we're going to visit Eddy in the hospital.”
“I’m going. You’re going to want me to come,” you declare.
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#blood hungry#series rewrite#criminal minds series rewrite#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#cm#cm fanfiction#season 1 episode 11#s1e11
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⭐ please!
I am beating my fucking ahead against this no chips Fox thing. Man is not lucid enough to hold a POV. Anyway. Roleswap Awful Teen Boba Thing!
He didn’t step any closer to Boba, but he did turn to face him. Boba was still looking completely away from him, but that was fine. He usually was. “Boba. You know you’re the last clone. Whatever that legacy you’re trying to live up to, whatever honor you’re chasing…you have two legacies. I get that only one is important, but you’re all that’s left of the rest.” For some reason, Ben found his throat choking up. Why? Why did he still care? “I have two legacies too. I’m - I’m one of the last Jedi. And I didn’t always like it either, Boba, and I always hated them a little. I - I can’t be a Jedi anymore. I’m just too - too wrong, I guess.” Ben fell silent, heart beating at this ribcage, before starting again. “I don’t have much, Boba. I don’t have anything. And you don’t have anything either. You’re awful and I’m a little awful too, but…we’re the only ones left.”
I decided early on that I wanted to do a riff on TBOBF to match my riff on the Mandalorian. This is partly for parallelism reasons, partly because I really love writing the absolutely shittiest teens, partly because I've always kicked around a slice from Ben's Lost Years (TM) and partly because MOB BOSS FENNEC SHAND COME ON COME ON MOB BOSS FENNEC SHAND PLEASE -
The entire story is about the parallelism and link between Ben and Boba. There's a weird connection built between two boys who, in some way, have nobody but each other. The only thing they share is something that they both detest, but by this time they're both mature enough to know that they can't shed it. Of course they fucking hate each other! (Also Boba's a brat lmfao king) But of course they'll have each other's backs, because some part of them still wants to protect this side of them that they hate.
Ben hates the clones, and he never stops loving them. Boba never identifies as a vod, and he never stops searching for people he can be loyal to. Happily, he finds that in Fennec and her mob empire.
Hondo & Fennec genuinely, actually wants the best for the kids. They view them as employees, but they both know that they accepted responsibility for this kid when they took them on. If I was a responsible adult and I had these federally wanted, traumatized teenagers on my hands then yeah, keeping family together and extraditing them to a place with no Empire where Fennec can watch out for them is actually a responsible thing to do.
It's just impossible at this moment, because they can't handle being part of the same family right now. It says a lot that despite how deeply Ben hates the clones, he still wants this connection with Boba. It says a lot that although Boba sneers on the clones & Ben's connection with them, he still childishly wants Ben on his side.
That's putting aside all of the other crap here, like the Obi-Wan Kenobi Classic of attaching his worth as a person to his abilities, like the other Obi-Wan classic of throwing himself so completely into his new role that he loses sight of who he is, and of the crippling identity issues that I cannot refrain from giving Boba.
(Look, like. Teens have identity issues. This is canonical to teens. The clone shit is the most insane identity issues of all time. Child/Teen!Boba is literally the most satisfying Boba if you're going to tackle those extremely interesting themes and that's my justification)
All that being said, I personally find this a story with a really happy ending. I was really happy to give Boba this. Fennec & her Tatooine Empire is exactly who Boba needs. I honestly think, in Disney canon, Fennec was Boba's first real friend - and it's developmentally awful to grow up without a consistent environment or caregivers. I'm glad he got to make that friend so much earlier, and have somebody who he trusts in his life, in a stable and consistent environment that a kid needs. Thank you, Mob Boss Fennec Shand!
#my writing#also sometimes we just want mob boss fennec shand and drunkle hondo#big fan of everything going on in this situation.
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I can't believe I didn't think the todo/endev stuff would've been divisive. Like if you don't like it then that's it, you just personally don't want to see it, that's valid, but then you have some ppl calling ppl who do like it and even hori abuse apologists (despite some of them being survivors themselves) but THen you have ppl on the other side insulting those who can't stomach it and, why is this all a thing.
CW/ abuse mention
I'm not all that surprised it stirs up such intense reactions. Unlike saving the world or becoming a hero, the struggle of a household and each of its members healing from a horribly abusive past, complete with all its uncomfortable, different, ugly blistering wounds and scars is way too close to home for a lot of people. Even for those who may have never experienced the same "severity" (in quotes because comparing trauma to silence or talk over victims of any kind is not okay - different forms of abuse is still abuse that leaves lasting impacts and effects everyone differently) they can feel personally connected to that pain.
I'm not surprised whatsoever that Endeavor is such a controversial figure. I would argue that's a good thing. If we come to love his character after lots of growth it's because he's really changed in the ways he's needed to and continuing on that road. If we can't ever get past what he did it's still justified because he's legitimately left the lives of his entire household in shambles - a home full of people who his chief responsibility was to love, provide for, and protect - who will carry the scars (some literal) of what he's done for the rest of their lives.
What surprised me most, however, is how Dabi became to be such a chief spokesperson for the entire family despite being the most removed as far as attitudes towards Endeavor and his actions in response; and how he became the only "valid" victim for so many.
I absolutely pity what he went through. He was absolutely right to feel abandoned. He was abused as much as anyone in that household. His trauma was just as real, just as impactful, and just as valid as the rest. All of his childhood trauma was a result of his father's actions of which Endeavor does need to face and account for. Even his desire to lash out at the objects of his father's affection - his mother and siblings - as a child as a way in his mind to make the pain stop and regain what he legitimately needed in his father's attention and affection is understandable given the circumstances. He's very much damaged, and the onset of that damage is not his fault. He desperately needed help he never got.
But here's where the split happens: at a point he was removed from his family and their influence and became his own person at which point he decided to step on the gas and purposely cause collateral damage on top of the self-destruction.
To be clear, simply leaving that harmful environment and growing up does not erase the damage it caused. PTSD would not be a thing of that was the case. However, Dabi is in one of two states given his behavior: he's genuinely insane (mentally ill to point he doesn't recognize what he's doing - a justified legal defense of insanity) or he's at least lucid enough to know and purposely chose to inflict harm on others because of whatever benefit he feels he gets from it (not able to plead insanity).
Either way, he's a clear danger to himself and others and needs to be reigned in. If he's not in full control of his faculties he needs professional help and has to be taken into custody for everyone's safety. If he is all there, it's right for him to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law because trauma does not excuse making more victims of any kind.
And for some reason, despite these facts well being able to coexist, the fandom doesn't seem to accept that - at least not uniformly and the disparity of opinion is night and day. We have real life examples of people who went through traumatic childhoods who became serial killers, and we don't disagree that they needed to be institutionalized or prosecuted for the safety of the public and their survivors; but Dabi gets a pass somehow?
Perhaps the main divide comes down to some can't/don't/won't make a distinction between Touya the abuse victim and Dabi the abuser. Both can and do exist in the same person, but the focus of his life's goal has shifted to be distinct enough to make that distinction as the audience. As a child, he was a victim who was doing everything he could think to do to get what he needed in a horrible situation. As an adult with ample degree of rational thought and self-awareness, he leverages his damage to justify the homicide he commits against his own victims.
And this especially is why I have pity for Touya, but not for Dabi.
I knew someone who did that - who did that to me. Someone who I considered a friend, even "family" until I set boundaries and started acting contrary to what they wanted when it was like a switch went off inside them. They had a legitimately terrible upbringing and a questionable family situation, at best; but that didn't mean I had to suffer the effects those negative influences splashed into my life.
If something I did made them upset and what they only ever knew was to verbally express, "You're lucky I have the control to hit the wall instead of you when I get this upset" that anger is valid, but I was also right to say, "If this is a problem, I'll do what I can to make it right on my end, but you do not have the right to threaten me, emotionally manipulate me, or lash out in retaliation - and especially not without consequences or pushback. You need help, and I want to help you help yourself; but that was not acceptable. I am responsible for me and what I do, not for how you take things and respond."
It boils my blood thinking back how often they tried to peddle back and make me the bad guy in my own head by trying to guilt me with their own tragic backstory so I'd stay complicit. Clearly, I'm still not completely over it, and I was unpleasantly reminded of it not long ago when nightmares with their face came back to haunt me for the first time in years after just seeing their name again in passing earlier that day. It took a complete stranger I met at a house party telling me after I spilled my guts late into the night for me to even begin to recognize that I was being manipulated and abused.
So yeah, there it is yet again - the Todofam drama is way too close to home for too many people. The worst tragedy in that, though, is that no one can apparently be validated in their opinions unless they bare themselves like I did just now. That shouldn't be the case. These discussions should be able to exist as hypotheticals and discussing canon events instead of requiring everyone who wants to weigh in to have their own trauma validated.
It's easy to pile onto Endeavor because he's the clear "bad guy" in the scenario who will never be able to erase what he's done even if all of his family magically forgave him and he turned into the patron saint of puppies and kittens. But for some reason it's not easy to recognize people can feel the same way about Dabi who can recognize him for being both victim and victimizer.
I wish it wasn't the case. There's a lot of right and wrong and stuff that isn't wrong - just uncomfortable and sucky in this subplot; but fandom is too stuck on insisting in an all or nothing bad guy/good guy to fully appreciate the nuance in this plotline.
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Sorry I had to send this as an ask stupid tumblr wouldn’t let me just copy and paste it in messages. But please let me know what you think!
Asylum Hearts
Xemnas “Superior of The In-Between”
Occupation: Cult Leader/Serial Killer
Driven by a murderous desire to collect hearts to complete what he, and his father, called ‘Kingdom Hearts’. Kingdom Hearts was thought by many to be just a long ago creation myth that is the basis behind Xemnas’, and ultimately his father Xehanort’s, preachings. Xemnas inherited the Organization from his father upon his ‘death’. (His twin brother Ansem having been chosen to Seek.)
Before being apprehended, Xemnas and his followers were killing their victims, literally ripping their hearts out, and collecting said hearts to sacrifice them to Kingdom Hearts. The thing no one saw coming is that the ritual they had started to conduct, before being busted, had actually started to work. A fact no one had caught onto except for Xemnas, Xigbar, and Saïx. Who now knew what it would really take for them to succeed. He had more then enough hearts in storage to try again, he had made sure of this, just in case something like what had happened actually transpired. All he had to do now was to orchestrate an escape from this infernal abyss of insanity called Arkham Asylum. The only up side to any of this was at least he had something pretty to keep his attention among the thought muddling drugs they had already begun to pump into him.
Xemnas’ head lolled to the side as his gaze eventually fell upon his intriguing new neighbor. “Pretty little doll.” He practically purred making sure he was loud enough for Nightshade to hear. His signature smirk widen as he saw her shoulders tense from hearing his new pet name for her. The little witch had ensnared his mind the moment their eyes had met in admissions. She would be most definitely useful in resurrecting his father for sure, but right now the lust in his blood coupled with the drugs made it incredibly difficult to think of anything else but her or more specifically the thought of what she’d look like underneath him while writhing and clinging to him in ecstasy. His brain may have started to grow foggy, but he was definitely lucid enough to flirt.
“That’s not my name.” She quietly answered as she looked over her shoulder to see his half drugged state.
A low laugh rumbled through his chest before answering “Oh yes of course, forgive me. My mistake. My GORGEOUS little doll.” He said making sure to lay heavy emphasis on gorgeous, but even heavier emphasis on ‘My’ making sure to capture her gaze. Another drugged laugh bubbled out of him as she shivered from the effect he was having on her.
“I’m not your anything.” She spat. “And my name is Nightshade get it right.”
A full chested laugh broke from him at her little display of ferocity. “Not yet maybe.” He said standing to face her cell a large hand coming to lay against the glass that separated him from freedom. “But do believe me, dearheart.” He purred seductively. “I’ll have you screaming for me to finally bring you the release you’ve only ever dreamed of, and one only I can provide, Nightshade.” The hand against the glass slowly lowering to come to palm the clothed hardening length in his pants. “Oh do you not see what it is that you do to me, My Doll?” His breath hitched as lust blown amber eyes met glassy wide smoky blue. “Oh my Witch.” A full throated groan left Xemnas’s throat as he lowered his pants just far enough for his considerable length to spring free from its confines. “What spell do you have me under?” He continued as he started to pump himself.
“You sure it’s not the meds making you horny?” Nightshade finally managed to find her voice, but couldn’t find it in herself to look away. He said she was gorgeous, but Gods damned he was the gorgeous one. Built like a brick house carved from golden brown marble, the face of a fallen angel, and hung like a fucking horse how the fuck was she supposed to look away and ignore that? To make matters worse he was getting exactly what he wanted. To turn her into a wet moaning mess without even having to touch her.
Opening his eyes in the midst of his haze of pleasure, his smirk grew predatory at the sight of her thighs clenching together accompanying the bright flush on her cheeks and chest. “Hmmmm” a hum rumbled through his chest. “I know for damn sure I don’t get this fucking hard for anyone else in this hell hole.” He panted. “Oh what I wouldn’t give to have your pretty little mouth sucking me off right now.” Xemnas looked over to her again, eyes boring deep into hers as she clenched her thighs tighter, letting out a low whimper. “And I bet you wish I was over there to throw you onto that Goddamned bed, rip your clothes off, bury this fat cock into that tight little pussy, and pound into you till you can’t fucking form a thought that doesn’t involve me.” He practically growled as he pumped himself at a furious pace, his peak quickly approaching. “Come now dearheart, show me what you so desperately wanted to touch right now.” He groaned. “Show me how fucking soaked you are for me.”
It was Nightshade’s turn to groan as the very last piece of her self control flew out the window, and her legs slowly slid apart. Her hips lifted slightly into the air to slide her pants and panties off her body. The blush on her ghostly pale skin impossibly deepening as she opened her legs to reveal her drenched core to Xemnas’s hungry eyes. “I can’t believe I’m about to fucking do this, and you.” She said aloud directing a heated gaze upon the silver haired man jacking off in front of her. “You are so beyond Goddamned lucky that we’re the only two housed in this wing at the moment.”
Her legs opening wider, allowing for Xemnas a better view of both her and her cunt, as one hand captured a nipple in between her fingers, and the other hand shot down to her soaking wet folds. A, louder than she wanted, moan graced his ears as her fingers played herself like a beautiful instrument, and making his hips buck wildly into his own hand. “Fuck! I can hear how fucking wet you are from here. Fuck woman.” He whined. “I’m fucking close.”
Nightshade wasn’t far off as she alternated between playing with her clit to shoving three fingers knuckles deep into her own cunt. The spring in her abdomen coiling tighter and tighter as she watched him become more and more undone. Their moans mingling together as she watched him jack off to the sight of her adding a fourth finger to the assault on her pussy, her head thrown back as her fingers stretched herself out. Upon opening them, her eyes met his golden ones, in that moment their erratic hips began thrusting in the air at the same time.
“Cum with me.” He whispered loud enough for her to hear across the hall, and that’s what broke the dam. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her entire back arched off the bed as her orgasm washed over her like a tsunami, and her cries becoming soft whimpers. The last thing that came to Xemnas’s mind before his own earth shattering release, was just how unbelievably exquisite she looked in the throws of a powerful orgasm. How exquisite she was period. His own release shook him as he painted the glass separating them with his thick cum. “Mine.” He growled as his half lidded amber eyes met her hazy pale blue.
I love it! You certainly have a talent for writing!
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Branded - Chapter 17
Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: None. Just smut and sadness.
(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by @araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)
Chapter Warnings: Explicit sexual content, mentions of past rape/sexual assault
Word Count: 3k
AO3
Your back hit the duvet on Bucky’s bed, soft and plush and very inviting. But all your brain could take in at that moment was the feel of the demon above you, strong arms holding you down as your legs encircled his waist.
His mouth was on your neck, all warm lips and a hint of sharp teeth. You were 74% positive you could come just from that, as keyed up as you were and as insanely good as it felt.
Each brush of his lips and each light scrape of his teeth made you squirm and pant like an animal. Your hands were in his soft hair, crushing him to your throat as your hips desperately rubbed against the hard planes of his abdomen.
Bucky let loose one of those low growls that sent a pleasant jolt up your spine before he broke contact with your skin. You were about to complain from the cruel lack of contact until you realized he was moving downward, his hands unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans with deft, practiced movements.
Subdued and placated for the moment, you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him, biting your lip as he removed his trademark black jacket, a long-sleeved blue Henley underneath.
He seemed to favor them, and you didn’t mind at all.
It was strange. Despite the fact you felt you were going to burst at any moment, you were more lucid now than during any of the previous encounters. You weren’t so overcome with lust that your brain was clouded, as if under a spell. You felt perfectly within control of your mind, if not totally in control of your body.
Hell, even if you could have stopped all of this, you wouldn’t have wanted to. The sight of Bucky pulling off your shoes and lifting your hips to tug down your pants left you breathless with need. You stripped off your own jacket, leaving on your shirt since taking it off required way more coordination than your trembling fingers had at the moment.
His eyes were growing darker by the second, every inch the predator he seemed to be, and those eyes never left your face, blazing blue with the strength of his own desire. Bucky had left your underwear on, a fact that would have been unfairly frustrating if he also hadn’t grabbed your hips and tugged you to the edge of the bed.
Bucky spread your thighs and knelt between your knees, leaving you dumb and speechless as he gazed up at you with a quiet sort of hunger. His wings were furled behind him, their leathery edges tickling the inside of your calves and ankles.
“I wanna try something different,” he asked in a low, gravelly tone that sent your head spinning. “That okay?”
“S-sure,” you responded, raspy.
Neither of you had other options when it came to the feeding, it had to be done, but being asked for your opinion made it feel more… normal. It let you pretend for a moment that you and Bucky were together by choice.
The mystery of his proposal was quickly answered as he turned his head to the side and planted a kiss on the inside of your thigh.
You jumped, hard enough your face immediately heated with embarrassment, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lip as his lips continued a trail upward.
He didn’t bother telling you to relax, which you appreciated, since your body felt like a taut string about to snap. Instead, all Bucky said was, “Lie back,” and you did so, fisting your hands into the covers with near-feverish anticipation.
Your shoulder burned, your brand punishing you for the delay, but you couldn’t find it within you to tell him to hurry up, mostly because you couldn’t talk. Gone was every thought in your head as you felt Bucky mouth and lick over your soaked panties.
Your hips jolted as you released a whimper, feeling like you might die if he kept teasing you. And Bucky was teasing you, licking and prodding your clothed sex with his lips and fingers, forcing sweat to break out on your skin despite the chill in the air.
He’d never done something like this before. He’d always just gotten straight to the point, with you too much of a feverish mess to care about the lack of foreplay.
But now? Now you felt something more than the forced human-demon bond. You wanted Bucky, and you didn’t think you could hide it for much longer.
He froze when your hands reached down and touched his hair, curling into the long, soft strands. And when you wrapped your fingers around his horns and pressed your palms against the rough surface, gripping them like bicycle handles, he lost the last of his control.
Bucky ripped off your panties and buried his face between your legs, pressing the flat of his tongue hard against you as he took one long, possessive lick.
Your back arched off the bed and you actually saw stars. A noise you’d never made before, high-pitched and tortuous, came out of your mouth, and you gripped his horns tighter, pulling them toward you as you tried to fuck yourself on his tongue.
Bucky was having none of it; he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs and pulled them over his shoulders, holding them in place as he licked you again, tongue warm and wet and—oh… definitely longer than a humans.
“Fuck,” you choked out, squirming, the sensations too much but not enough. It felt insanely good, and your tightening abdominal muscles meant you were going to come soon, but you didn’t want it to end, not when he’d just started. You wanted him to climb up your body, hold you and actually kiss you, a real goddamn kiss—
—but at the same time, you couldn’t bear to tell him to stop. Not with his tongue now prodding your entrance, pushing inside and manipulating you with way more flexibility than a human tongue could ever provide.
In a move that made your vision actually swim with tears, Bucky pressed the flat base of his tongue against your clit while somehow managing to fuck you with the rest of its length.
You let out another choked noise, practically squeezing him between your thighs as your legs crossed behind his head, your hands tugging on his swept-back horns, desperate to pull him closer.
Bucky let loose a growl, gripped your hips tightly in his arms, and without warning, sucked on your clit as if to devour you.
That was all it took, pushing you over the edge as you arched your back and cried, your mind going pleasantly white for a moment before returning back to your writhing body. Pleasure pulsed across every inch of skin, the burst of energy released by your orgasm pulled down and outward at the point where his mouth met your skin.
Bucky was feeding off you. Surprise mixed with the continuous orgasm, and you moaned needfully as you kept a hold of his horns like your life depended on it. Bucky lapped at you, drinking you down as he made a groaning noise of his own.
You were completely wracked, exhausted as he finally pulled away and you were allowed to come down from your high, but you didn’t want to stop. Not yet.
“Wait…” you said, clumsily reaching out when he sat back on his heels. The sight of him licking your slick off his lips left an echo of desire in its wake. “You didn’t… come, did you?”
To your surprise, he gave a light snort and appeared almost sheepish.
“Don’t worry about that. Sit tight. I’ll be right back, okay?”
You simply stared at him, as if you had the strength to go anywhere right now, and watched as he rose to his clawed feet and disappeared from view. To the bathroom, you realized, when his retreating form disappeared into the alcove you had spotted earlier.
Shivering as you became very aware of the chilly temperature, you curled onto your side and pulled your knees up to your chest, tilting your head up to look longingly at the head of the bed where several plush, grey pillows leaned against the headboard. They were only a few feet away, but it might as well have been miles.
The obvious didn’t occur to you until Bucky returned and began gently, carefully cleaning up the mess between your legs. You rolled onto your back, clumsily batting away his hands.
“C’mon, stop that,” you mumbled, “I’m just going to get dirty again.”
You felt clumsy and warm from the aftereffects of the feeding, even sounding a little punch-drunk to your own ears. Bucky raised an eyebrow.
“What are you talking about?” he intoned, flat and unamused.
“Aren’t we gonna… you know…”
Your ears went hot as your entire face flushed, and Bucky had the decency to only mildly smirk at you. It might have been a mocking gesture, but damn he looked good while doing it.
“Why would we? The feeding’s already done. You can feel that, right?”
Did you feel the uncontrollable magical lust retreat so you could function like a normal human being? Sure, but, that wasn’t the damn point!
While you floundered for a response, Bucky picked you up from the bed and laid you against the pillows. He was always so careful when he picked you up, as if afraid you would shatter in his arms, and it made you even more flustered.
“Y-yeah, but…”
You trailed off, watching as Bucky turned to a nearby dresser. He pulled out a pair of pajama pants, blue-and-white plaid that looked super soft, and he turned back and handed it to you.
“Sorry, this’ll have to do for now until I wash your clothes. They’re kinda… ruined.” There was that sheepish look again, but from the spark in his eye you saw an echo of pride in that fact.
You took the pants from him and pulled them up your legs, sighing at the feel of the soft material against your skin. “I—I can leave in a few minutes after I catch my breath—“
Bucky was already shaking his head.
“Maybe you don’t feel it yet but it’s gonna hit you soon, especially since I wasn’t as careful as I should have been.” He licked his lips nervously and looked away. “Stay the night. I won’t bother you.”
“You don’t bother me,” you muttered grumpily, apparently not possessing your usual filter post-feeding. What an annoying side effect. You winced as you managed to pull up the covers and slip underneath them. The feel of the cold sheets made you shiver. “And you keep avoiding the subject.”
Bucky released a tired sigh, the tension of his shoulders as he stared down at the sheets obvious.
“Why would I make you go through all that again if we didn’t have to?”
You opened your mouth to answer. Nothing came out. It took a few seconds for you to give a weak answer, and not the one you really wanted to give.
“Are you… sure it was enough? Doing it that way? I mean, you didn’t…”
“Yeah, I did,” he insisted. “When you came, so did I. That’s how the feeding works; we’re connected on some kind of… energy level. I don’t understand everything about how it works, but I do know I can feed through oral sex. I mean, I’d never done it quite that way before, but… I guess the same rules still apply.”
You blinked at his vague answer, feeling incredibly stupid, like you were missing something you should be understanding.
“What do you mean… you’d never done it that way before? What way? What rules?”
Bucky grimaced, his tail returning to its usual nervous twitch whenever he was distressed.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Oh.”
You dropped your eyes and gripped your fingers on the covers, pulling them up a little as you tried not to be hurt by the statement. He still had things he wanted to keep private, and you couldn’t resent him for that, not when you were keeping too many of your own feelings hidden.
You heard him sigh, a tired, frustrated sound. “No, it’s… shit. It’s not your fault. It’s just hard to revisit that stuff.”
“You don’t have to��“ you were quick to say, but he interrupted just as quickly.
“Yeah, I do. We promised transparency, right?”
You looked up at him, just in time to see him run his normal hand through his hair. The movement was semi-distracting, especially since you knew exactly just how soft that hair was now.
Bucky leveled you with a look that made it seem as if he was bracing for something.
“Remember the whole succubus/incubus argument we had before? Well, regardless of what I am now, I was a succubus. And I was forced to feed exclusively on… on men.”
Bucky paused, shifting on his feet and looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but there. You were about to tell him it was fine, he didn’t have to tell you anything he didn’t want to, but he continued in a tense, low tone.
“I don’t know why they made me that way. If it was because I already liked guys as well as girls, or if it was because of that fucker Zola who turned me into this—this thing. Whatever the reason…”
He grimaced again, so hard it was a wince.
“…that’s how I always had to feed. That’s how HYDRA made me feed. By sucking guys off, by letting them fuck me. After they fucked with my head and made it so I couldn’t remember anything, they made it seem like the feedings were a reward.”
He shook his head, pulling back his lips over his teeth in a humorless smile.
“But the result was the same. I never had a choice. So… if I can do anything in my power to make this less invasive for you, then I’m gonna do it.”
His hand returned to his hair again, brushing it back in a restless, irritated fashion, and you were struck with the image of a predator pacing in a cage as he moved back and forth near the foot of the bed.
“One of my handlers, he showed me a book once. It had sketches, real old ones, of different feedings. One of them showed a female incubus feeding from a woman, so I thought… maybe it’d be better doing it that way than forcing you to…”
He trailed off, his expression almost sickened now.
You felt the same way, nauseous and horrified, but not at Bucky. Never at Bucky.
Bucky had had to feed before. On people other than you. And entirely against his will.
The idea seemed obvious now, but it still left you entirely speechless.
“So…” He looked away from you, flexing his jaw as he moved to pick up your clothing from the ground. “No. I’m not going to make you endure any more than you have to.”
Shame filled you so fast and so deeply it made your eyes prickle with tears as you looked away. Having to feed on people, being forced to have sex against his will, of course it had been a nightmare for him. How had you never realized that before?
And here you were, treating it like it was some kind of casual fling in the hopes that someday it could be something deeper. Pretending that this whole situation wasn’t the result of Bucky suffering at the hands of HYDRA decades ago.
“I’m sorry,” you said, dropping your eyes to your curled hands in your lap. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
Bucky made an annoyed huff, his tone just the same as he said, “That’s not—I didn’t tell you that to make you feel sorry for—Jesus, don’t apologize, all right? I’ll feel more like an asshole than I already do. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”
You couldn’t stop the annoyed sigh before you’d already made the noise, your hands curling into fists.
“Why. For accepting a toy from a kid? Come on, Bucky.” You looked up at him, slightly tilting your head as you gave him an imploring expression. “It’s not your fault. It’s not mine, either. Can we just put the blame where it belongs? With those Nazi fuckers?”
Bucky released an amused snort, looking almost startled that he’d made it. You began to hope, just for a moment, that you’d gotten through to him, but then he shook his head and turned away. He approached a light switch on the wall, pausing with his demonic, armored hand inches from the switch.
“Go to sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
Without waiting for a reply, he flicked off the light with a clawed nail, leaving the apartment in muted darkness. Only the distant lights of the city shining through the clock faces made it so the penthouse wasn’t completely pitch black.
Trying not to pout and failing, you laid back under the covers, releasing another heavy sigh that you knew he could hear. Good. Let him know what an ass he was being. Not to you, but to himself. Why couldn’t he see that none of this was his fault, and he was actually an amazing, caring, wonderful person doing the best he could in a shitty situation?
It felt like you were hitting a brick wall, over and over and over again. God, why did it seem the only time you two got along was when he was holding you down and making you come?
Your own question made your cheeks flush, and you turned over on your side, pulling the blanket up to your chin. Your warm skin made it more obvious how cold the clock tower really was. Surely the guy could afford central heating? He had to be loaded to afford this place. You didn’t know where he got his money from, but it was obvious he wasn’t hard up for cash.
Despite the chill settling on your skin, and despite your best efforts to attune your hearing to the quiet apartment for signs of Bucky moving around (there were none), you eventually stumbled into a restless sleep. One that didn’t last long. You kept surfacing into a half-conscious state, shivering violently as your limbs curled into protective positions.
It wasn’t until you felt the bed dip and warm, strong arms wrap around your waist that your muscles stopped trembling, and you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Next Chapter
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Thoughts on LUCIDS Part four
Once again, I took forever to post this, sorry. Spoilers for LUCIDS Part four under the cut.
1. I love the little chimes when the apple pops up into view as he throws it. I just think the opening scene is really cool.
2.Wait if they met in Elementary school, does that mean in this universe Benjamin could go and talk to a little Isabelle?
3. I definitely have to copy down his speech about everything constantly existing for theorizing purposes.
4. Benjamin writing his proposal speech is the sweetest thing I have ever scene, and I am absolutely in love with their relationship now. I desperately wish that there were more fanfiction writers in this fandom so that I could read so much fanfiction about it! Unfortunately, we have a grand total of like one person, so I guess I will have to suffer.
5.Aghhh I love Isabelle's voice!
6.Oh my god its the scene from the epilogue!
7.I LOVE THEIR INTERACTIONS SO MUCH! Oliver making for of Benjamin for being dramatic is quite possibly my favorite thing ever. I’ve probably mentioned this already, but Characters and relationship dynamics are always my favorite things in any series, and little things like that, and them knowing there is going to be a PowerPoint when Ms. Hills talks to them gives me so much joy.
8. Ms. Hills back at it again with the stellar memes! Also, the roasting of Benjamin’s jokes is so good.
9. Wait, its been at least 3 days, and neither of their parents have gotten at all suspicious that they haven’t seen their child? I’m slightly worried by this information.
10. I know that I’ve been talking about like, every other line so far, but they’ve just been so good that it feels wrong for me not to comment on them. Anyway, the shot of Oliver calling dibs on Benjamin’s bed, Benjamin protesting, then it immediately cutting to Oliver sitting on Benjamin’s bed while joking with him is one of my favorite scenes in this whole series, and this episode has already managed to surpass part 2 as my favorite episode at only like 5 minutes in.
11. Oliver’s facial expressions when Benjamin is going on about the dreamscapes are so incredible, and I just- UGH! I can’t express how much I love this series.
12.Ok, I already addressed how I’ve been talking about every single line and how redundant I am in this post, so I’m just going to say how much I love Benjamin and Oliver’s dynamic one more time, and then I’ll shut up about it for this episode.
13. Ms. Hill’s facial expressions and mannerisms are one of my favorite things about this frickin series. Her little proud shift when she tells them that she made more “Dank memes” and her smirk at Oliver’s terrible joke are so good.
14. Ok, now we’ve caught up to the point where everything in Jasper, the Epilogue, and the Trailer have happened, so there is literally zero knowledge of what is going to happen going forward, and I am so excited for it!
15. Did Quinn not recognize Benjamin from the cult? Or was he just asking about Oliver?
16. I did say I wasn’t going to praise Benjamin and Oliver’s dynamic anymore, but I have to give some appreciation to Jasper and Quinn. Gosh it’s great. Like we only got one scene, but gushing about a show together is one of the best examples of friendship. Also, I’m so glad that Oliver got to hear people gush about his show like that. He deserves it.
17. QUINN IS A LUCID! I lowkey expected that, but I didn’t expect him to be like... practiced at it. Also, my friend mentioned this when I rewatched it with her, but the swear filter is such a great detail.
18. Why was this scene cut into Jasper episode 6? Does time move that much quicker in Jasper’s dreamscape? Does this give an indication of how time works as far as dreamscapes go? Does time move quicker in some dreamscapes than others? Did he not actually see this when he was knocked out at that time, and that was just foreshadowing?
19. Hey, he referenced the discord! Cool!
20. Oliver getting winded after like 5 seconds of running is a mood. Like same dude, same.
21. Time for your regularly scheduled loving the music in this series mention. It is so incredibly good! I’ve actually been paying more attention to it lately, and I am completely blown away. I don’t know if that is because this is like par for the course, and I haven’t really thought about the soundtrack for shows that much in the past, or because this series in particular is really good, but either way I enjoy it immensely.
22.I do not talk enough about the cinematography in this thing. Once again, it might not be more than what most shows do, but this is all done by like one guy! It is amazing!
23. I just realized that Oliver and Benjamin probably just straight up passed out in the Whole Foods in the first episode of TAOBAO.
24. I wonder if Jasper is going to address what Oliver told him with Quinn later, or if he’s just gonna be like, “oh well,” and keep on livin.
25. It is moments like these where I wish the fandom was bigger. Normally, I would have been reading Oliver/Benjamin and Quinn/Jasper fanfiction this entire time, and then after this interaction I would have been able to enjoy the brand new flurry of Jasper/Oliver fanfiction, but once again, all I can do is suffer.
26. Wait, why didn’t Ms. Hills realize that Quinn was a Lucid before? Are there certain criteria you have to meet to technically be a Lucid?
27. Was weird time jumping shenanigans going on? Why did we get a clip of Benjamin waking up? Are we going to learn more about how LUCIDS do time stuff in the future?
28. The Ah! A tree! guy was funny enough on his own, but Nick later explained it on the livestream, and gosh, that was a layered joke.
29. What the actual fuck Ms. Hills. God I have so many thoughts and feelings about this scene. First of all, I almost cried the first time I watched it. Second of all, how are Benjamin and Oliver going to handle this information? Oliver especially? Like that is brutal man. Third of all, who did Quinn meet? Did he find another Lucid who trained him? What happened? Fourth of all, does Arthur know about this? Also, this was an observation from someone in the Discord server who wasn’t me, but does this have any implications for Arthur leaving and then Ms. Hills telling Oliver that “he always comes back”? Holy shit man, this scene is so crazy.
30. Benjamin cheated on Isabelle!? When they had a daughter together!? That scene was like two punches to the face, finding out about what Ms. Hills did, and then what Benjamin did. I can’t believe that he would open with that 2 minute shot making me fall completely in love with their relationship, and then just rip out my heart and completely stomp on it like that.
31.Before I go into my closing thoughts, I just have to mention how much I love that ending music. Its so sweet and calming and comforting, and I want to be able to listen to the full version as soon as possible. This episode took everything I loved about Part 2, and then ramped it up to a ten. The soundtrack felt even more impressive, the characterization was pure gold in every single line, the character dynamics felt so real and natural, the plot twists were so incredibly insane, and the ending music makes me feel even more like I’m going to cry than the one from Part 2 did, but like in a good, comforting way.
32. Every single character in this series has to have an angsty backstory and moral complexity, don’t they? Like I can’t think of a single main character that those things don’t apply to in at least some way.
33. Apparently Isabelle is voiced by a fan called astronautdancer (I think that is right) on TikTok who made a spinoff series about Isabelle, which I’m really excited to watch! (Nick did say it probably wasn’t canonical though)
#thank you so much for reading this post if you actually managed to make it through the whole thing#I can't believe how quickly he manages to put out this episodes#and they are all such incredibly high quality!#sorry about using such and also so much in this post#LUCIDS#nicholas podany#LUCIDS Part four#LUCIDS Part 4#god I love this series so much
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The heretic was bruised, beaten, the bones of his left hand crushed, his lips swollen. Dried blood had gathered beneath his nose, beneath his jaw, and on the inner tunic of his shirt.
Arbitrator Caractus was unhappy. They’d simply thrown the man into an interrogation cell, and expected her to register his information before he was handed off to... well, she wasn’t entirely sure. But she didn’t think anyone came back from it. The Inquisition? Perhaps. But the Arbites didn’t much care for the Inquisition. Prone to corruption. For all their faults, the Arbites were ruthless opponents of corruption. Even their worst enemies admitted that they may have been sadistic bastards, but they were bastards who always had a paper trail to document that sadism... Marielle Caractus was not sadistic. But she never really -had-met her father...
“Name?”
The heretic smiled. “Marcus Tertullius.”
He didn’t cackle madly. He didn’t laugh. He simply smiled. Almost... it was almost polite of him.
“Citizen Tertullius, you have been charged with...” she skimmed down the list. “Well, my. What an interesting evening you had!” She cleared her throat, “Distribution of heretical texts with the intention to incite civil disobedience. Possession of an outlawed weapon. Vandalism in the First Degree.Attempted sabotage of public works. Theft of Imperial Property. Threatening a member of the Urban Cohort. Threading an Arbitrator. Possession of bomb making materials. Shall I enter your pleas?”
“May I have a handkerchief, please?”
She passed one over. He nodded his thanks and cleaned the blood from his face. “To the first charge. I admit to owning the material and distributing it. I do not admit guilt in owning an heretical work, however.”
“You are aware that this is a banned work, and has been so since at least M32?”
“It wasn’t as if I had a copy of the Necronomicon, Arbitrator.” His voice was calm, pleasant.
“No. There were no M1 era Gallic texts on mortuary practices. Nor fictitious works of supernatural study in your possession, Citizen.”
Marcus smiled again. “My. You are well educated, Arbitrator.”
“And to the others?” She said, moving on.
“Intention to cause civil disobedience? While I contend this is a matter of,” he spat blood into the handkerchief, “of free will, I plead guilty. Absolutely, unabashedly guilty.”
She nodded, “You had in your possession an illegally modified Imperial Guard issue laspistol.”
Marcus laughed for the first time. “Imperial Guard issue. That is rich. It’s a family heirloom. I think you’ll find it is an antiquity. A legacy of an ancestor who fought for one of the Emperor’s sons in the Imperial Army. And I didn’t modify it one bit. I merely kept it clean and functional. Shame your jack booted morons had to damage it. Real history there.”
She frowned, “Can you substantiate that claim?”
Marcus nodded, “You will find the registry number, and the license we hold for it, and have, for literally ten thousand years.”
“Vandalism.”
“Guilty. Though I think it was an improvement.”
“You sprayed the words ‘cocksuckers’ across the statues of four different heroes of the Imperium. I hardly think it was an improvement.”
“Art is very... subjective, granted. They were Ecclesiarchs. Two were subsequently executed. I hardly think that qualifies as heroic, with or without the executions. Do you have a problem with art?”
Marielle raised an eyebrow, “No.”
“A problem with cock suckers then, Arbitrator?”
She smirked, “Art is a luxury wasted on the insane.”
“And cock suckers are wasted in a clerical life.” He coughed, covering his mouth, “the plea is guilty.”
“You do not seem to have much of a fear of the punishment which awaits you, Citizen Tertullius.”
“Fear is a luxury wasted on the faithless, Arbitrator.”
He was, by all rights, inviting a beating. And yet, his eyes were placid, he was fully lucid. He was not ranting or raving. A madman nonetheless. Beatings? Those were wasted on madmen.
“Attempted sabotage of public works.”
Marcus considered this. “I rather think I was successful, I didn’t merely attempt it.”
“It says here that you attempted to slice into the internal holonet data feeds for the administratum complex.”
“I did not,” Tertullius smiled, “I did not attempt it. I succeeded. Uploaded my data packet.”
Arbitrator Caractus scowled, “No virus was detected. Pictures, text then? Something about ‘cock suckers’ again, Citizen Tertullius?” Was he some sort of pervert? Was that his angle? Perhaps they’d labeled him a heretic misunderstanding his intent. Criminal, but..
He laughed, briefly. It was painful, and he was forced to cover his mouth again. “No. Copies of that so-called work of heresy. Self-Replicating.”
“I see.” She frowned. “So it is a sort of virus then. We should have it scrubbed.”
Marcus shook his head. “No need. It’s done it’s work already.”
She would have to look into that later.
“Bomb making materials?”
“Not guilty.”
“Proscribed chemicals and a timing mechanism were found in your apartment, Citizen.”
“Not an explosive. A smoke charge. Drives the sensors on the local police autocars crazy.”
“Smoke bombs are classified as explosives under the Proscribed Civilian Weapons Act, Explosives: Chapter 7, section 14, Amendment 457a.”
He shrugged. “I would clap, but the bastards broke my left hand.”
“Citizen,” she sighed, “your records are clean to this point. You make a better salary than most. You have a clean apartment and you own your own autocar. What could possibly motivate such behavior?”
Tertullius’ face was blank, but his answer was sincere. “Faith.”
“The Holy Books of our faith do not...” Marcus interrupted her, and his voice was hard. “Your faith. Not mine.”
“That is blasphemy, Citizen.”
“So is all of this,” he threw up his good arm, manacled to the left, gesturing, “all of it.” So. Now the ranting was come. She steeled herself.
“Be careful, citizen,” she cautioned, “you haven’t expressed such beliefs that can cause you significant pain. They might even be mercifully quick about it...”
“I do not fear your Inquisitors.”
“You should,” Marielle’s retort was sharp.
“When I was a Navy Armsman, oh, round about the time you probably began your training, I watched the Marines Malevolent vaporize a colony of monastic gardeners because they had evidence that an icon to a false god was being hidden in their vicinity. They killed them all. Burned their city. And found they’d got the coordinates wrong. The captain of my ship, he was horrified. Couldn’t do anything. I heard, a few years later, filing the report ended his career. The man had a Navy Cluster. He was a legitimate hero.”
“I am unsure how this affects your plea, citizen. I believe we are just about done here.”
“You asked me about my faith, Arbitrator. I do not lie. I lost my faith that day. It was the latest in a string of atrocities, acts of cowardice. Things that made my blood boil and my heart ache. Turns out, however, that I didn’t completely succeed as an atheist. That icon, you know. Of the false god? Our search parties never found it. Not officially. But... you know..” he leaned forward, beaming, “we did. Four of us. Miles away, in some bombed out bunker from generations past. It was a little thing. A book, the cover embossed with a circle, half white and half black and a pictogram I didn’t recognize. An archaic Terran text it turns out.”
“You should have turned it in, then.” Marielle sighed, “That’s another charge. They will likely execute you for it.”
“Oh, but we did, Arbitrator. To the Captain. After I’d read it cover to cover, of course.”
“Sweet Emperor, man! Do you want to be executed?!”
“Not particularly. But I have done my duty. I am at peace.”
“You are a madman” Marielle shook her head. “A lunatic. Those books. They say horrible things. They do horrible things. And now we’ll have to arrest otherwise innocent people, since you so kindly uploaded the damned thing to the data feed, and.”
“No. Not that one. What I uploaded came later. Though I suppose it could inspire a kind of madness.”
Marielle closed her notebook, “I think it’s time we parted company. You are of no use to anyone but...” she shook her head, “but them, now.”
There was a code burst, illuminating her helmet feed, and she switched it on for a moment, listening. “Yes,” she said to the other end, “come on ahead.” Caractus turned her attention back to Tertullius, “Arbitrator Webb will take your to your holding cell. I suggest you make peace with your maker.”
Tertullius smiled, “We are broken in his crucible to be reforged in his anvil.”
Cripes. A looney. An eerily calm looney. But a looney just the same. He said little else, and when Webb arrived, she merely passed him on with a shake of the head. “Lost cause, Dub.”
Webb shook his head, sympathetically, as best a man built like an aurochs could. “That’s a shame. I’m sure you got something useful from him. You always do with these things, Mary. See you on the flipside.” Webb’s powerful frame seemed to diminish the half-broken Tertullius; the man put up no fight but showed no fear. Whatever he had to say, he had said it. She watched her them go and shook her head again. What a waste.
Marielle turned her eyes back to the helmet feed, blinking away the messages that had filled her inbox. At last, she came to it. A text file.
“COMMON SENSE,” it read, “by Thomas Paine.”
More lunatic nonsense. She was preparing to delete it when another code burst came through. Webb again, “Just couldn’t stay away, eh Dubb?”
“Well. No. But... I’ve got some good news for you, Marielle. You get to go off duty just a bit early. Maybe we could get dinner?”
“Sure. But... why?”
“Well, we’ve been dating for three years, and I thought maybe we should take the bold step of dining together now and again.”
“No,” Caractus rolled her eyes. “Not that. Why the early shift?”
“Oh. That. Well, your interrogation tonight. Your vandal-cum-mad bomber-cum-heretic...”
“Yes. The calm, creepy one.”
“Pretty calm now. He’s dead. Died of injuries in the waiting pen.”
“What? You literally just picked him up.”
“Not really true. I picked him up hours ago. The street squad beat the hell out of him. We were hoping he’d stabilize before we brought him up to you.”
“Brought him up?!” Marielle blinked, “Again?”
“What do you mean ‘again?’”
“Are you joking, Dub?” She frowned.
“Oh, come on Mary. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to talk to him before he died. But better for him. Wouldn’t have survived the Inquisitors. But, if it makes you feel any better,” Webb’s voice reassured, “I am sure you would have got something useful out of him. You always do with these things.”
#askmalal#chaos gods#horus heresy#warhammer40k#warhammer30k#malice#ask me questions#malal#the warp#chaos philosophy
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I'd LOVE to read more Archer x Rogerina!!❤ Don't have any specific requests so maybe just something from one of the prompts you have? And I agree, I don't care what Joe's in as long as I get to see more from him!!!
Omg thank you for asking for Archer x Rogerina because I do have something to share that I couldn’t quite fit into the ongoing narrative! So this is not based on a prompt, but since Trip The Light Fantastic is told in Ben’s POV, as I was working on Joe’s character, I wrote his version of that night. And here it is:
I catch you looking back at me, looking through a cloud of steam
Archer x Rogerina AU, Joe’s POV
Right before senior year began, Joe had just broken up with his then-girlfriend who was cheating on him with a mutual friend for almost as long as they were together. That was enough to put him off any kind of relationships for a while. Besides, he thought he’d give being completely and truly single, a try. He kind of miss the sex and occasional cuddling, not that he’s particularly the cuddling type, but it’s nice to have a warm someone in bed and not wake up cold and alone sometimes. But to compare that with the kind of serenity and peace he has now and the headaches he saved, he’d rather keep being single, thank you. He has more time than ever now to read and write and drive by himself, and he has even started dancing regularly again.
And then there’s the Halloween party at the Maleks’. It’s the kind of party that all seniors go to, many juniors get invited to, and selected few sophomores could get in by miracle, and freshman could only dream of going. Maybe next year, or the year after. The host of such a party is always that one kid in the senior year who is filthy rich and you’re lucky if he isn’t an asshole who also buys his way through college. Well Joe sure is lucky. That kid, or those kids, because there are two of them, are his childhood best friends, Rami and Sami, whose father is a rich Egyptian-American business tycoon who moved to New York and built himself a business empire working closely with the Arabs and their oil in the 80s.
It was last year that Rami told him he has his eyes on a certain London girl who is majoring in arts together with Joe, who is in her sophomore year. Her name is Lucy. Of course Joe knows her. Joe knows everyone. It comes with being occasionally recognized as that kid from Jurassic Park, and every time one of his professors brought up the fact we have someone in the class who is here on the personal recommendation of Steven Spielberg, he would slowly slide down his seat a little, hoping the remark would remain just a remark, and it would be forgotten by the end of the class. Sometimes it works exactly like how he wants it to be, sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, it earns him a reputation that he plays down and many friends, no, a large group of people he socializes with regularly. So he is some kind of a popular kid too, although a somewhat reluctant one.
The Maleks’ mansion is pretty much his second home, and he was in his element that night, having accepted Lucy’s dare to show up in a girl’s character costume, and she even volunteered to do his make up, on one condition; no glitter involved. She did manage to put on something metallic-hued on his eyelids though, because he looked in the mirror and his eyes sparkled subtly whenever he blinks. Lucy had shrugged it off and told him, it wouldn’t be too noticeable, the house would be dim and there would be light strobes instead of actual lighting.
Lucy smiled up at him as she gave his make up, her handiwork, its last touch. “My goodness, you’re beautiful,” she marvelled. “Don’t make me change my mind, Luce,” he warned her. “No, don’t!” Lucy protested hurriedly. “No, no, no. Now let’s go.” But not before she stopped one last time to take a selfie with Joe, no, the Archer.
His Archer costume was a hit, apparently. But he made it very clear that he’s there just to enjoy the company of himself. And dance like mad, which was great because he had gotten back at it and been practicing for a while now. And that’s when he saw Rogerina. One sulky Rogerina who was drinking beer alone and trying not to look like he’s staring when he pretty obviously was doing exactly that. Joe thought that they look kind of wildly different, him and Rogerina who has a more muscular build and moody-boyish look. He even stood with his legs apart, chugging his beer with one hand on his hip, not even trying to appear feminine. But even across the room, Joe could feel his eyes on him, and they’re crazy-intense. He didn’t even know how to describe it, but he had never been stared at like that since he was five and sitting in an audition for Stanley Kubrick.
He thought about it, but Rogerina obviously isn’t one of the people he knows, because he knows everyone here. Almost. Let’s find out who you are, Rogerina, he thought as one of his favourite songs came on, and he danced to it with an added flair, his moves all smooth and pronounced. Rogerina kept staring even as he made his way to Rami and Lucy. Lucy asked him if he’s murdering people on the dancefloor, and he just laughed it off. He headed to the kitchen to retrieve some rum he knew is kept somewhere safe and away from casual partygoers, half-hoping Rogerina would follow him there. And he wasn’t disappointed. Well he had to talk with Chace first, and the first thing Chace said to him was, “Hey there gorgeous.”
“Asshole.” He laughed him off, because he knew Chace well. He’s always trying to get into someone’s pants, gorgeous girls or boys alike. They’ve fooled around before, but decided it’s better to remain friends as they are now. They talked shop and laughed, but from the corner of his eyes he could see Rogerina approaching the kitchen. He had never wanted a friend to disappear so fast before. And he’s glad when Chace decided to go looking for pretty girls at the pool.
The masked hesitation he could sense in Rogerina’s voice as he said hi to him was cute, to say the least. When was the last time he had been chased after like this? He was so determined too. He told him he came looking for a light for his cigarette. Classic excuse. He has a deep voice, British accent, and a very boyish smile. Definitely not a senior, maybe not even from the same department. He’d have remembered someone like him. Joe found himself looking into green eyes as Rogerina stepped closer to him to light up his cigarette from the mini kitchen lighter he was holding. He smelled nice, with a faint hint of aftershave. He wondered if he’d taste like beer and cigarette and something entirely different or surprising.
Mint, Joe thought later as they began kissing and he’s savouring the blonde’s lips. The cigarette he lit up earlier must be his first, as the taste was very faint, and it soon disappeared. The bitterness of malt and mint on his tongue fits right in with the Coke and rum sweetness on his own.
Rogerina kissed him like he meant it, like the persistence by which he went after him to the kitchen, which found him pressing the sides of his knees on Rogerina’s hips, and that’s when he found the lighter innocently tucked in the side pocket of his skirt. He wasn’t even surprised, but he was absolutely delighted at the thought of this green-eyed British boy going after him and cooking up a lie to flirt with him. Makes him want to give him exactly what he wanted, and set him on fire while doing so. So he kissed him deeper, tongue all the way in, a hand in hair and another on his back, gripping him through the white shirt. He pushed himself forward and closer, so Rogerina could touch more of his exposed thigh. There’s growing heat at the base of his guts, and he slid even closer to give friction to it, and that’s when he realized they’re both hard.
Holy shit, he thought, and almost immediately wanted, no, needed more of this delicious friction. They’re separated by layers of fabrics, but fuck if this doesn’t feel so good, kissing a boy indecently in an open space, pushing and rubbing against each other fully clothed while the sound of the party droned on in the near distance. There’s no way this would not look exactly like what it was, and the thought of anyone potentially walking in on them is an incredible turn-on.
But Joe did pull away from Rogerina, mainly because he did not actually want anyone to walk in on them, and he needed to at least get a name. “Ben,” he told him in between breaths, eyes still transfixed on his lips. He looked like he was dazed and drunk, or somewhere in between. They were kissing again in no time, and when Joe deliberately pushed himself against Ben as he slid down the kitchen counter, they both moaned loudly into the kiss, and he almost lost his mind a little. They’re fast becoming like magnets, one gravitating to the other as soon as they pull away. He wanted to get his hands everywhere on Ben, wanted to touch him, kiss him, make him moan his name. They were strangers barely ten minutes ago, it’s so fucking insane, but there’s nothing else he’d want more right now than this green-eyed Brit in Rogerina costume. But not just yet.
So he smiled sweetly to him when he asked him nicely if he’d want to get out of the party with him, and he thought there’s no way he’d say no to that. They were kissing slower now, heartbeat calmer, desire kept in check. He held his hand close, making sure he wouldn’t change his mind. Something’s telling him he needed to do this right. This isn’t just a party hook-up, a fooling around kind of fun.
That same something’s also telling him he’s hooked, and it felt headier and sweeter than anything he’d drank tonight.
So when they did get out of the party, not before he caught Rami for the barest seconds to say goodbye, surprisingly without Lucy by his side, he decided they’re not going immediately to his place. He still has Ben’s hand in his, and he’s looking at him and smiling with his lucid green eyes and Joe wondered if it felt a little bit more than just infatuation or hormones. He thought about how ridiculous it was to think of it as anything more than what it was, but it lingered on long after.
#hardzello#hardzzello#archer x rogerina#joe mazzello x ben hardy#joe x ben#all the aus#ask#answer#trip the light fantastic#writing#joe mazzello#rogerina#ben hardy#ao3#extras#character study
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Explaining ‘Joker’s Negative Critical Reception
SPOILER WARNINGS FOR ‘JOKER’ AND ‘THE PERFECTION’ (LIKE, ALL THE SPOILERS)
TRIGGER WARNING: I BASICALLY THINK THE JOKER WAS RIGHT
In my recent review of Joker, I alluded to an enclave of (predominantly middle class) film critics who absolutely hated the film, not because of its actual quality, but because it drew attention to widespread social inequalities in which they themselves are complicit. To be honest, I was going to leave it there and not provide any commentary on these film critics, since, y’know, they failed miserably: people went to see Joker in their droves and it made roughly enough money to fund two moon-landings and a year-long block party. However, I did some googling and it turns out that the phenomenon of insane critic-hate for this flick is much more widespread than I initially thought, and so it behooves me to give the reasons for this hate a little more thought.
Now, obviously, I’m dismissing the idea that this is simple, honest criticism that just happens to differ from me out of hand. I try not to do that too often, because I think its far too easy to start seeing conspiracies where there aren’t any. However, if you’ve been to see Joker then you already know that it’s a self-evident and transcendent work of artistic accomplishment the likes of which almost never actually show up in cinemas. A handful of bad reviews I could understand, since all taste is ultimately subjective- but a million thinkpieces about whether the film even has a right to exist looks suspicious to me.
In order to start dissecting Joker’s own private backlash, I’d like to draw a comparison to another film (which I also mentioned in my initial review): The Perfection. You see, Joker references a lot of classic films, from King of Comedy to Taxi Driver to The Network, but the film that it most reminds me of is The Perfection (which, incidentally, is the only other film I’ve ever called ‘transcendent’ without the faintest trace of irony). Both films are revenge films about people suffering from an invisibilised forms of pain. The protagonists in The Perfection survived rape but couldn’t have their suffering recognised because it was an accepted part of the sexist world to which they belonged. They eventually killed their rapist and his minions. Fleck (the Joker’s real name) suffers from mental illness and crippling poverty, but finds no sympathy. Instead, he’s alternately abused and ignored by the people in his life and those he turns to for help. His mental illness is even exploited by TV personalities who he’s never met for a cheap laugh. In the end, he takes revenge and in so doing, starts a violent uprising.
The big difference between The Perfection and Joker is that the former attracted praise from the majority of critics and ambivalence (rather than abject hate) from those who weren’t on board, while the latter was hit with a tidal wave of abuse. Both films are of comparable quality and both are thematically similar. so why is one widely accepted and the other denounced.
Well, one of the major differences between the victim-protagonists. The Perfection’s victims are lucid, relatively financially stable women from two different ethnic groups. The Joker, in contrast, is a mentally ill white man from an impoverished background. The sad fact is that some types of victim are trendy and others aren’t. Dirt poor, mentally ill honkies just aren’t as on-trend as well-spoken middle class women who have had something horrible happen to them. I don’t intend to be dismissive of the type of suffering portrayed in The Perfection (nobody deserves to go through what that film’s heroins did, yet sadly, in real life, many people do). Nor do I want to put Joker on a pedestal for giving a crap about a less socially-acceptable type of victim. My point is merely that there’s a double-standard at work in the review press. Most film critics have social circles that are ethnically and gender-diverse (which is a good thing, obvs) and can therefore empathise to some extent with people from different backgrounds. They get a nice warm glow from supporting people they know in real life. However, by the same token, I doubt most of them have ever met a working class person who wasn’t serving them coffee, or dealt with someone whose illness prevents them participating in mainstream society. To the average film critic, the working classes and the mentally ill are just ‘those dirty looking people from the other side of town’, whether they’d admit to thinking that way or not.
However, I feel like the learned inability to empathise with poor people doesn’t fully explain the hatred for Joker, though it undoubtedly facilitates it. One of the interesting factors about the hate the film’s received is that it seems to emanate equally from both ends of the political spectrum. On the one hand you’ve got yer neocon fuckwipes wringing their hands about the bad influence the film could have on children (they fail to mention how these children are going to sneak into see an R-rated film en masse) On the other hand, you’ve got virtue-signalling SJW motherfucks bemoaning the fact that the film dares to portray violence committed by a white dude in a sympathetic light (I’m not entirely sure how sympathising with the justified anger of a downtrodden, abused version of the Joker is supposed to equate to endorsing spree killings perpetrated by racists and misogynists in real life for completely different reasons in real life. Then again, the aforementioned virtue-signalling SJW motherfucks don’t seem to know either, so I suppose we’re just supposed to ignore the discrepancy).
It’s rare for a film to attract such ire from both conservatives and liberals, but it is telling. You see, as a die-hard commie (or, at least, a fairly stubborn socialist), I look at conservatives and modern liberals from an outside perspective, and they seem to me to have more in common than they’d like to admit. Both fundamentally believe that the society they live in is good and worth preserving- they just can’t agree in what form. This is particularly the case in America, where most of the film’s audience and critics are pooled. The idea that there’s nothing particularly great about American civilisation- that maybe, just maybe, there’s not much there worth salvaging- is equally anathema to the most hardened bigot and the most free-wheeling hippy libertine. The idea of American exceptionalism is so ingrained that anything that the thought of it failing beyond repair is horrifying to practically everyone.
This, I suspect, is the real reason for the hatred that Joker has attracted. The version of Gotham portrayed in the film is beyond redemption and, ultimately, you’re meant to feel happy (or at least relieved) when its smug, self-assured elites are shot dead; when its infrastructure burns; when The Joker- that cackling pop culture nightmare- is finally unleashed.
As it builds, Joker toys with the idea of tragedy. It walks a tightrope, making you question whether the Joker’s actions are really justified, but in the end it comes down on his side. It just waits until the last possible moment to suckerpunch you with that fact. The Clown Prince of Crime himself articulates the way the film has kept its sympathies in check until the right time when he says that “killing those three young men was funny, and I’m tired of pretending it that it wasn’t” (I’m misquoting, but only slightly, for the sake of expediency). This line is the pivot for the whole movie- the point at which the movie openly admits that its villain-protagonist isn’t just a sympathetic character study, but someone who might have a coherent point. His first murders were of the “awful” elites of his society and yes- in the grand scheme of things- their deaths were pretty necessary. And funny.
Had Joker just shown us its protagonist’s descent into villainy without hinting that he might actually be right, I suspect the films would be praised as a morally complex work of genius. But it dares to suggest that America might as well burn, so film critics- who occupy that relatively wealthy and stable rung of society where society itself starts to seem like a good idea- can’t really cope with it.
Is my interpretation correct? Who knows, the film is carefully ambiguous- maybe I’m not meant to be quite as on-board as I am with Joker’s brand of civilisation-collapsing nihilism. But the fact that it even has that element; that possible interpreation probably does explain why critics hated it.
Either that or they’re just tasteless fucking idiots. Oh fuck. It’s that second one isn’t it? I just wasted two hours of my life writing this didn’t I? Well bollocks. Off you fuck.
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