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compacflt · 4 months

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Would you ever consider writing about a different path Ice and Mav could take, one where they choose to leave the Navy and pursue a more open relationship and civilian life? Thinking it would be easier but maybe the sacrifice to their careers brings its own challenges?

(hi, jan 2024 me here, this was an ask that I answered when it was sent in in May 2023 & didn't post because I felt I actually answered it fictionally in the "icedad" one-shot the week after [and you can obviously see how these thoughts affected the writing of other pieces like "tremors & aftershocks"], but I still mostly agree with this take [though it's a little overgeneralizing] & I think it sums up a lot of my final "meta" modern-military-theory thoughts on ice & mav & their relationship, so im posting it now before I post the compacflt masterpoast)

see,… the thing is, i just… can’t see that happening!! i have no idea how to write that!!! Maybe i really do have a lack of imagination. But i can’t see that happening for a number of reasons. So short answer, no.

Long answer (and it’s long):

1. lame reason to start out, but it, uh, it’s canon that ice ends up at O-10 and mav ends up at O-6. not saying that im beholden to canon obviously (my mav ends up at O-7 and my ice ends up alive) but I do base my characterizations of them on the implications of the political struggles of both their careers so… taking away ice’s fourth star is basically starting from square one wrt my characterization of him. which is a lot of work. i could start from the beginning with a top gun 1986 ice who knows he’s gay—that would be a fun AU (i think other people than me have definitely done that better, though—I’m a one-trick pony). So if that’s what you mean then disregard the rest of this post. but if what you mean is a divergence from my existing work (i.e. homophobic/rank-climbing ice&mav) then… yeah, can’t see that happening, for further reasons below.

2. wrt my characterization of him: it’s based on a broad historical overview of armed service officers and the expectations of their careers. in my view, high-ranking officers aren’t after power—or maybe they started their careers wanting power, but somewhere down the line, it just becomes an expectation. if you do everything right and follow all the rules, you are expected by the institution to lead, whether you want to or not. That’s just the pipeline. at some point you start losing agency. which is what I mean when I keep saying ice doesn’t have a choice in advancing his career (besides the meta fact that this is fanfiction and canon demands that he have 4 stars lol)—high ranking military officers are continually and continually groomed for bigger and better positions; and the longer they spend in the military, the harder it is to leave that lifestyle for something else. And with ice’s canonical (and characteristically INTEGRAL, as I mentioned a week or so ago) refusal to rebel against the wishes of the navy as an institution, plus this historical expectation to lead placed upon the shoulders of excelling officers, I really do think ice is destined for four stars & nothing less, even if it gives him chronic depression. It’s his highest priority not because he wants it to be, but because…it just is. that’s how the institutionalized system of advancement in the military works. it just is. it has to be.

3. I mentioned in this post that I can’t ever see a foot in the door with them talking about their relationship unless maverick dies and is resurrected, and I feel the exact same way about them & their retirement plans. There’s a lot that ice and mav don’t talk about: the biggest one is obviously Goose’s death, the foundation of their relationship; but also their love for each other obv, what they did to rooster, AND their careers, which have to end at some point. Them talking about everything is totally inevitable, it was gonna have to happen eventually before they died, and I think one foot in the door MIGHT have been them eventually talking about retirement (someone sent in a prompt asking for this exactly & i am brainstorming it furiously) but before the Navy FORCES them to retire… i think they would studiously avoid talking about it. For a couple reasons: a) what does retiring with each other mean? living in the same house until they die together? hard to do if you’re just good friends. talking about retirement is tantamount to talking about Them. and b) what are they gonna do outside the navy? Ice has a lot of options, as I mentioned in the slider one-shot—general/flag officers are SUPER sought after in leadership/intelligentsia/management positions post service, so maybe if he were offered a crazy cool civilian position somewhere in San Diego in like the 2000s he would quit the navy for it… but what about maverick? I have no idea what a non-navy mav would do. Civilian airline pilot? Hoo boy. I think he’d hate that. I could maybe see emergency helicopter pilot, lol, or race car driver (i just watched days of thunder can you tell?) but none of the above offers the institutionalized honor the navy does (that, as a reminder, he *killed people* to obtain in the first place). I suggested his test piloting expertise would make him an attractive technical advising candidate to A&D companies like Boeing, LockMart, GD, etc. so that might be one option. But it might have been kind of a touchy subject for him before he racked up the expertise he’d need for those high-level civilian positions… the navy was kinda his only option. So they wouldn’t talk about it because it might hurt his feelings.

4. The biggest reason: again… open rebellion like rocking the boat by quitting the navy to be in an open long-term gay relationship, in upper mil brass ranks, and even retired upper mil brass ranks, just… isn’t done. And REALLY wasn’t done in the 2000s, when i think the scenario in this ask is positioned. And it’s not like “oh but whatever who cares about the navy, ice and mav are in love, they deserve to be happy no matter what, they should do what they want, fuck the navy…” no. Ice and Mav care about the navy. Clearly. Canonically. By necessity. The military requires cohesion and on some level repression of individuality & personal expression to FUNCTION, even when you’re retired. Yes, maverick certainly strains against that repression (which is why you Could spin top gun as an anti-military franchise if you were desperate enough), but he rebels through his ACTIONS (stupid plane maneuvers) not through his personal IDENTITY. his personal identity (headstrong overtly masculine white male pilot, whether gay or straight who cares) is NEVER challenged throughout the franchise (i.e. no one really challenges his masculinity specifically) & his personal identity does not POSE a challenge to the navy. Both he and ice in their outward-facing personal identities really fit in quite neatly to the navy’s overarching identity & contribute to the navy’s cohesion in a way that is favorable to both their careers and the establishment. Lack of imagination or not… i can’t see a universe in which Ice and mav would actively WANT to rock the boat and wreck the navy’s cohesion and their reputations for an open relationship and definitively rebellious personal identities, with the obvious caveat being Maverick’s death recontextualizing both their priorities (yes we’re in love AND we’ve finally proven ourselves to be ultra-capable officers regardless of our sexuality so no one has a license to judge us anymore etc.).

And also, they’re not enlisted seamen. Nor are they mediocre officers who have the luxury of fading into obscurity. Things are different when you’re that high in the ranks, and when your job publicly matters more. sorry, but even post DADT (probably until about biden’s election), an open relationship would end their careers. They might not be fired, but they’d never be promoted again. Too much of a liability getting subordinates to still respect them, from the higher-ups’ perspective, especially if there are other qualified candidates who fit the navy’s core identity better. Like—sorry. This is such a jaded oversimplification. But if you rock the boat like that (i.e. break the service’s united front to be individualistic in a way that does not match the service’s overarching identity), from the perspective of your officer peers, you simply are a bad officer. Being an open individual in a job where you are required to fit in and represent your service is not your job. You are not doing your job well. Straight-up. Even if you’re retired. I met US Army 4-star gen. David Petraeus (retired obv) in February—he led the successful-ish surge in iraq and Afghanistan in the mid-2000s—and he’s STILL a laughingstock for his disastrous affair with his biographer a decade ago, even after he retired from AD service. That’s what people remember him for, not the fact that he was one of our only successful commanders in any of our Middle East campaigns.

Something like that might be one of ice and mav’s worst fears—being known for their affair/scandal instead of the institutionalized honor they’ve fought and killed for. That kind of thing just Isn’t Done. It's bad taste. You have to keep it quiet. If you’re an officer representing the service, you have to represent it well & according to the service’s preconceived identity, even in retirement. (see, for another shitty example of "not fitting in" even in retirement, Lt. gen. Mike Flynn [his whole scandal is actually kinda geopolitically relevant to my fic if you squint lol] whom everyone fucking hates)

To summarize: i hope I’m not mischaracterizing your ask when i reframe it like this—would you ever write ice and mav without the institutionalized pressure to advance in rank and conform to institutional norms?

and yes, I would (and will if you ask—it looks like this: ice & mav meet & fall in love & it’s boring and fine. end of story), but I guarantee you someone else already has. I’m all about interrogation of institutional norms here. And i think until maverick dies & comes back from the dead, there is absolutely no *REALISTIC* incentive for ice & mav to leave the navy and/or have an open relationship. Like it’s just not possible. Idk how else to say it.

#which is like the whole point of my fic right. this is exactly what im trying to say with the story as a whole #these are flawed institutions stuck in their ways and ice as an officer REPRESENTS that flawed institution stuck in its ways #until real life (maverick dying) gets in the way and makes him reevaluate his priorities #and the truth is—his 1st priority (loving maverick) is absolutely incompatible with his 2nd priority (advancing his naval career)#for the reasons listed above #so he quits!#but just because he quits doesn’t mean he doesn’t still represent the navy! that’s the curse of officership #per the slider oneshot: You can’t ever retire once you get any stars.#unfortunately in a realistic world Ice really DOES owe the navy his discretion. that’s how it works.#tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #top gun #top gun maverick #icemav #asks #edts notes #the thing with petraeus though is that his affair was notable bc he leaked a bunch of classified info to her #so not the best example but it was still cool (in like a oh you’re a historical figure sense) to meet him so I’m bragging abt it #(see tweet I just added)#additionally: the military is changing! in this universe it would be young upstart officers like rooster/hangman who contribute #to the liberalization of military officer culture!#but that kind of change Is Not happening in the 50s-60s cadre of upper level officers. At all. Ice included.#anon let me know if this wasn’t what you meant in your ask.#& feel free to disagree/argue with me this is just my view #lol the DOD just banned drag shows in the military #^ these tags are 7 months old now

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sarnai4 · 1 day

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The Underworld

I cannot even express how excited I was to listen to the Underworld Saga. It did not disappoint at all (of course, I wanted more songs, but the trio was amazing). Spoilers ahead for Epic the Musical.

"The Underworld" was an amazing setup for what we had coming. There are just so many tiny details! There are callbacks with "Full speed ahead," "Open Arms," and of course, we also have the "Ruthlessness" callbacks with the army. That would be so horrifying. He's surrounded by the 500+ soldiers who relied on him and trusted him to bring them back home. He even stated back in the Ocean saga how he didn't lose a single soul in the war. It's when they leave that everyone starts dying. Then, we have the heart-breaking Polites cameo, reminding Odysseus of how he cost his best friend his life. Now, the part that got me a little choked up was when his mom showed up. I have read even the story, so I know that she's gone, but it hurt so much to hear him realize he'd been at war so long that he never got to see her alive again. Him saying "Bye, Mom," just tears my heart strings right out. I love the contrast too of the quiet sadness in his voice with this line, then immediately yelling "All I hear are screams!" There's so much rage and pain as he's forced to confront everything that's kept him away from his family--including those he'll never be reunited with in life.

Then, we have "No Longer You." When I say the snippet did not do this song justice...(sighs dreamily). I still enjoyed the snippet, but this is probably my favorite of the bunch to listen to. The melody, the vocals, it's all just so beautiful. The tune just seems to float like you could do a ballroom dance with someone. That's not to say that the lines aren't great too. I love how this one plays on Odysseus's fears and how his increased time away from home has jaded him. The prophet basically says, "I see you with your wife, but you're messed up from your time away" and our Ithaca king is just pissed that he saw someone with his wife. Uh, buddy...well, I guess you'll find out soon enough. It's also so fun to know the story and get reminded of what Odysseus will be doing when he returns to Ithaca, fighting subjects who just assumed he had died and don't have respect for anyone in his family now. Even this entire concept to me in fascinating since it considers an underlying theme of the play: how people change due to their experiences. Odysseus will return, but it'll never be the same Odysseus who left in the first place.

And we end with "Monster" which is such an awesome ending to a first act. I wish this was live, so the audience could erupt in applause. (Small detail, but I love the music at the beginning. It's so unique when compared to the other songs and is pretty cool, gradually growing when more instruments are added). A bigger detail is that you have the instrumental intro matching the intro for "The Horse and the Infant." It just shows how far they've come and calls back to the very first time Odysseus was responsible for a lost life in the musical. My favorite line in this song is "I'm the only one whose line I haven't crossed." That's saying something too because this song is full of amazing lines. I just love the implication since we know Odysseus has often had lines he thought were too far. He didn't want to kill the baby, chose to spare Polyphemus, didn't kill Circe when he won in the fight, etc. Still, as he finally admits in this song, he did kill the baby. Despite that, he hasn't crossed his line. Why? I think it's because he keeps pushing it back each time he's confronted with something he doesn't want to do but feels he has to. It ties into the end of this song where he considers everyone he's lost, fully understanding the scope of it now that he's seen the spirits of his loved ones. Turning into someone he never wanted to be doesn't matter anymore. If he's a monster who still has a living family and hasn't proven the faith people had in him was foolish, then it's fine. He might have even been a monster before by not going against their enemies with everything he had. It's all a matter of perspective. Was he a monster for killing the baby, one for causing so many in his fleet to never return to their families, or one for both of those choices? The ending going back to "The Horse and the Infant" with him calling out for Penelope and Telemachus AND pairing that with the repeat of "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" is marvelous. It's almost like it's in the same sentence where he's explaining his actions to them, telling them that he has to become a monster because it'll make things alright for everyone they hold dear.

The only thing that made me mad about this is that I have no clue when the next saga is coming out or what it's even called. So, I'll just be playing the songs on repeat until I can add however many more to the playlist.

#epic the musical #Odysseus #I wasn't prepared to need tissues #Didn't get teary-eyed for the entire musical until this saga #Darn you Epic #Darn you #Aggressively shaking fist #greek mythology

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queerprayers · 1 year

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Hi! Could i ask you about your thoughts on judas please? Do you think he knew he had to fulfill the prophecy? Do you think he went to hell, if so, why wasn't he forgiven as well? Sorry if these are stupid questions, i'm a bit new to bible study and the bible in general

Thank you, beloved, for an excuse to talk about Judas! Here we go! And these aren't stupid questions at all—actually, they're questions continuously debated throughout history by even experts.

*This is a content warning for mentions of Judas's suicide and discussion of its motivations/implications. No explicit/violent details.*

To my knowledge, here are the main interpretations/readings of Judas:

Judas is the ultimate evil. He betrayed our Lord and Savior and killed himself in shame. His possible motivations could be: personal hatred/jealousy, theological/ideological issues, greed, possessed/tempted by devil, political issues/felt a duty to the empire, and/or selfishness (fear of arrest/execution by association).

What was meant to happen happened. Judas was a necessary part of God's plan, and whether he knew it or not, he helped complete the mission. He didn't do the right thing, per se, but he did the necessary thing.

Judas had good intentions—he thought if he willingly handed Jesus over, less harm would be done to Jesus, his followers, and the wider Jewish community.

You could back up many of these views with Scripture. And all of them are valuable to consider. Here are my thoughts:

Judas was handpicked by Jesus. Jesus called those he wanted, that they might be with him and send them out to preach. Judas was not a spy from the beginning, impersonating discipleship or scheming to destroy his Master—Luke says he became a traitor. He had joined Jesus's followers, and became close with his teacher. There is much we don't know about him, but we know he was supposed to be there. I do believe Jesus loved Judas as a dear friend, as well as a child of God. Jesus knowing someone would hurt him did not prevent him from seeking out all the love he know he would also experience—this is a microcosm of his relationship with every human. Jesus seeks out relationships with people he knows will betray him, over and over. "Do what you came for, friend"—even at the end, he was beloved.

In John, Jesus tells Judas, "What you are about to do, do quickly." Some have interpreted this as Jesus wanting Judas to carry out his plan, because it's necessary for Jesus's mission. You could also hear it as a plea, though, and this is how I hear it today. "Judas, I know what you have done, and will do. I know your heart. Go. Do it. Great things will come of it, but it will hurt me. At least do it quickly. Don't sit here with me any longer."

I don't know how much Judas knew. It's clear in Jesus's conversations with his disciples that Jesus himself is the only one who knows the whole story. Killing yourself after a betrayal doesn't scream confidence in the necessity/goodness of the act to me. And killing yourself before the story is over doesn't seem like you know the whole story. Perhaps a prophecy like that can only be fulfilled when it happens, not when someone tries to bring it about. Or maybe he did know. Maybe he sacrificed himself, knowing someone had to bring this about. I don't think we can know.

The Satan/demonic possession angle is interesting to look at. Luke and John both say that Satan entered him—you could be literal, but for me this doesn't describe a supernatural event, but a human one. Satan is the adversary, the opposite of God, evil. Evil enters us all the time, whenever we carry out something that is adversarial to God. Satan entering into Judas is him making up his mind. It's him giving in to evil, the moment of evil overpowering his heart.

Greed as a motivation is present in Matthew, where Judas explicitly asks how much money he would receive if he betrayed Jesus. In the other Gospels, the silver seems to be more of a reward/payment after the fact.

Whatever reason he had, however he convinced himself that it would be okay, whether he wanted money or safety or a new beginning, he had a hand in the execution of a (by most metrics) innocent man, and it wasn't worth it. He was filled with remorse and tried to return the money. No matter how much Satan Judas had in him, he still had love, too. And it wouldn't let him rest.

This is the biggest tragedy of Judas's story, and the reason he sticks with me: if you'll permit me to quote a favorite sitcom of mine, he quit before the miracle happened. He heard Jesus's sentence, and killed himself before the execution. Yes, he spared himself witnessing/hearing about/processing Jesus' death, but he also prevented himself from witnessing Jesus' resurrection. He couldn't deal with the guilt, and so did not witness redemption. If only he had stayed three more days. If only he could have seen that he didn't ruin everything, that there was hope. If only he had reached out to his friends, begged for forgiveness, mourned with them. I do not know what would have happened, or what Jesus would have said to him. He took away that possibility of earthly forgiveness with his own hands. He removed himself from the story.

I reread some relevant passages to answer this ask, and I noticed a couple things I've never considered before. First, that Judas received the first Communion. I guess I just never thought about it, but this strikes me today. Jesus also washed his feet at that supper. And then, reading John, I wept reading all that Jesus tells his disciples after Judas has left. If he had stayed, he would have heard, "In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me." He would have heard, "Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy." Maybe his heart would not be changed, but perhaps, later, he would have remembered those words, and held on.

Over and over again, I just think, if only he had stayed. Lingered at the table a few moments more. Mourned his teacher and friend properly. Permitted himself life a few days longer. Left himself open to miracles. May we remember this lesson in our darkest moments.

Oh, a bonus point: We all know Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss. But in Luke, as Judas approaches him in order to kiss him, Jesus asks him if that's what he's planning to do, and it seems he never ended up kissing him. Forgive me for this lack of commentary, but I can't emotionally process this. Let's move on.

We are not told by the gospels whether Judas is forgiven. We are not told where his soul rests. We're given the facts, but not much else—no clear motivation, no moral, no epilogue. We don't know how the other apostles reacted, or if Jesus visited his grave. He does what he does, disappears from the narrative, and we are left with the pieces.

I have complicated thoughts about Hell, but however we imagine life after death (something I don't think is even possible for us to process) I can't see any child of God being abandoned, much less one picked and known intimately by Jesus. Judas received the first Communion. He embraced the living, breathing God. And yes, he threw it all away, in more than one way, but he is not forgotten.

I sometimes see Hellfire as love that we aren't able to accept. Rejecting life and the possibility of forgiveness the way Judas did, and then meeting God? That would burn. That sounds like the most painful thing of all.

But there are miracles on the other side. Maybe it's taken him two thousand years to exist with Jesus peacefully, but I pray every day that he is.

Here are some things that make feel things about Judas:

Judas by Jeff Loveness and Jakub Rebelka (graphic novel)

The Last Days of Judas Iscariot by Stephen Adly Guirgis (play)

The Last Temptation of Christ, 1988 (movie)

Jesus Christ Superstar by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice (musical)

Corpus Christi by Terrence McNally (play)

"The Ballad of Judas Iscariot" by Robert Williams Buchanan (poem)

"The Ballad of Reading Gaol" by Oscar Wilde (poem)

"Judas" by The Reverent Marigold (song)

this post by illuminirk

this post by apriki

this post by notbecauseofvictories

everything boykeats has ever posted in his judas tag

"The Betrayal of Judas Iscariot" by overwhelmed (short story) (You're gonna have to bear with me as I link you to a fanfiction website on a Bible post. It's good, I mean it.)

God be with you as you study the Bible, and come as you are. Bring your baggage, and your weird feelings, and your compassion for the villains of the story, and your "stupid" questions.

<3 Johanna

#asks #judas #the wilde poem isn't about judas but it references him and the implications are gay so it's on the list <3

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abrideofdrogons · 7 months

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I remembered something. It’s from the wretched season. The two hacks had Dany say “I’ve never begged for anything” which contradicted how she said in S2 “I’m begging you”. Those two really were inconsistent with their own story weren’t they? But I also don’t like the implications. I think they were trying to portray Dany as this arrogant and prideful woman who was so proud that she wouldn’t beg for anything or be humble. And they clearly wanted to portray her “begging for the first time” as her being selfish. Those two hacks never understood her character. They didn’t understand any of the characters. I take satisfaction knowing their wretch awful season burned their show and their careers to the ground. I just hope GRRM will finish the books and give the story and characters the writing and hopefully ending they deserve. I have a lot of hope that Dany will get a good ending in the books

it’s surprising that they forgot they had daenerys begging for things as well considering how badly they intentionally butchered her season two arc. rather than showcasing her as a queen who is learning how to navigate court, they have daenerys demanding to be let in & given things because she has dragons which is not something that happens in the books since the qartheen come looking for her instead. the thing is, there’s nothing “wrong” with begging for help. for example, daenerys’s major goal starting from a clash of kings where she begins learning how to maneuver politically is to find ships. she doesn't like to beg, but she isn't above it.

“Xaro Xhoan Daxos would be no help to her, she knew that now. For all his professions of devotion, he was playing his own game, not unlike Pyat Pree. The night he asked her to leave, Dany had begged one last favor of him. “An army, is it?” Xaro asked. “A kettle of gold? A galley, perhaps?” Dany blushed. She hated begging. “A ship, yes.” Xaro’s eyes had glittered as brightly as the jewels in his nose. “I am a trader, Khaleesi. So perhaps we should speak no more of giving, but rather of trade. For one of your dragons, you shall have ten of the finest ships in my fleet. You need only say that one sweet word.” “No,” she said.” DAENERYS V, A CLASH OF KINGS

i think it’s important to note that only daenerys’s begging in seen as humiliating because it comes across as petulant. she doesn’t want to “share” the throne. she is so manipulative & convincing that she would “overpower jon” should he give into her, despite tyrion successfully talking jon into murdering daenerys because she kills “evil men”. in comparison, jon spends several seasons begging for more soldiers at the wall. he & sansa both partake in begging northern houses to help them in their cause to retake winterfell. daenerys parallels mostly with gendry begging arya to love him rather than being a fully-fleshed out character within season eight. his only purpose is to love arya, be made the trueborn son of robert & do little else.

what d&d forgot repeatedly is that dany is a negotiator before she is a beggar. her worth is in her many titles: the mother of dragons, the bride of dragons, the rightful heir to the iron throne. she negotiates one dragon for an army of unsullied. she negotiates her own marriage for peace in meereen. for all the repeated foreshadowing within season seven & eight, daenerys should have successfully negotiated a marriage pact with the king in the north, especially once learning about his true birth so that claims of him being the true inheritor of the throne could be avoided. but d&d would rather humiliate her character.

it’s misogyny that they have daenerys begging jon repeatedly throughout season eight to not tell anyone, to love her, to be with her even in the moments leading up to her death. she’s presented as a dreamy fool stuck between tyrion’s all-knowing genius & jon’s impeccable honor. even though they’re all painfully watered down, daenerys suffers the most & becomes a fridged woman so that jon can mourn her painstakingly over the last twenty minutes of the final episode to show just how torn he is about doing “the right thing.”

#daenerys targaryen #pro daenerys targaryen #anti got #anti d&d #got critical #jon snow #tyrion lannister #whitedragonwolf4961 #im not tagging s / an / sa; im scared of her show fans LOL

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beevean · 7 months

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Honestly that callout is the inevitable end of what we already mentioned abt nfcv criticisms:

-Loud annoying fucks make obvious racism fueled criticism of n!Annette

-Fandom considers this to be the sum of nfcv critics

-You n other fellas make criticism of n!Annette based on how her character was adapted, her story arc, interactions, etc

-"You're so racist n misogynistic!!!" Dogpiling

And you did acknowledge the unfair backlash against her in good faith and if ppl had disagreements it could be like "nah i dont agree bc x and i think you're being insensitive abt y bc z". Hell, if i got told i said something insensitive i'd rectify and apologize but nope. You're a bigot now congratulations :/

And (and im gonna get a bit political here sorry for that) forever gonna hate how nocturne made me have to speak abt all the nuances of the french revolution bc it is true that France was and is an imperialistic country w racism issues, but said history and issues can't be reduced into "white men bad, rich bad, 21th century 'murica politics" (specially considering how this is an Usamerican show, aka imperialistic country w racism issues that casually has France's politics on a leash lol)

It's all so annoying I just want a good adaptation of the funny beat up Dracula games

Pd: one of the things i like abt nocturne is her redesign lol. It doesn't has anything to do w the og but it's very good looking👍

Yeah, I knew I would be brushed off as one of those genuinely racist people whose criticism of Annette begins and ends with "MUH POLITICS, MUH WOKE" without knowing shit about history or even being a fan of the games. It's still annoying :V I always, always pointed out that those people exist and they have poisoned the conversation too much. But no, scream to me about how black women deserve to be in fandoms I guess. Yeah, I know. Good thing I didn't target you, isn't it.

And as other people have pointed out in the nothes, NFCV is genuinely all sorts of -ist and -phobic, there was a huge post that blew up about the blatant antisemitic implications of a "vampire cabal" owning all the slaves, so if you really want to play white savior, the show you're defending has plenty of material already :^)

And yes. I know this is going to sound like those MUH WOKE people, but I swear I don't mean it in the same way: Castlevania is not the franchise that should deal with real life politics. Not the games, nor the show. It's about humans vs. vampires. It has always been about human vs. vampires, or any sort of monster. Yes, N!Isaac had a past of slavery, but 1) it was highly historically inaccurate, since NFCV takes place before the Transatlantic Slave Trade and slaves in that area tended to be European, 2) it was still lowkey racist, as if black people can only be slaves, as if Isaac doesn't have already an in-built backstory of being persecuted for his powers, and 3) it was, at the end of the day, an insignificant factor of NFCV's lore. It justified one antagonist's misanthropy. It wasn't the literal core of the show. Nothing about the original show, let alone the damn games, would lead me to think "mmh, I sure would love to see important, complex historical events played out in this setting!".

(N!Annette is very cute, I concur lol. A much better design than N!Isaac. I appreciate that she's dressed in yellow like the original Annette :>)

#anti netflixvania

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toushindai · 4 months

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Life-Sized Blogging

toushindai / 30s / cis female (she/her/hers)

A known bisexual. Administrative coordinator by day. Writer also by day. Asleep by night, unless something’s gone terribly wrong. Autistic, at all hours.

My special interests take the form of serial fandom obsessions. It’s currently and very narrowly whatever the fuck Rauru and Ganondorf have going on in Tears of the Kingdom right now. If you followed me for (counts backwards on fingers) Hades, Transistor, Baccano!, Soul Eater, or any other fandom I don’t post about anymore, sorry about that. I do not have any control over the direction of the special interest.

I write a lot of fanfiction, specializing--I may as well cop to this, I think it's been the case since I was in college--in what we'll call eroticized power dynamics. You can find me on AO3. You'll also find me occasionally peddling my wares on my nsfw twitter. My main twitter, wallofillusion, should be considered defunct at this point.

Below the cut, I'd like to highlight a few of the fics or fic series that I'm proudest of for each fandom.

Tears of the Kingdom

Questions of Kingship: Two PWP one-shots followed by a multichapter plotted work. Elements of dubcon and noncon throughout. Recommended if you like made-up politics, think TOTK maybe should have thought a little harder about the implications of its made-up politics, or just want to see two horrible men who hate each other fuck about it.

Following Ganondorf's oath of fealty to Hyrule, Rauru "invites" the Gerudo chief to stay at Hyrule Castle while Gerudo's subsumption into Hyrule is negotiated. It's a strategic action; Rauru does need to keep an eye on him. But his frustration with Ganondorf's false humility hides a desire that even he is not comfortable with, and Ganondorf has his own plans for the self-styled king of Hyrule.

Hades

Hello it is I a megzag main. reach out and grasp will be your best starting point. It focuses on Megaera's friendship with Thanatos and how it is affected by her (and Thanatos's) relationship with Zagreus. This series is available as a pay-what-you-want e-book at itch.io. From there, feel free to branch out; there is a lot of porn here and some things that are not porn. A further guide to my Hades fic can be found here.

Transistor

Not so much of the power dynamics in this fandom but I love Red/Boxer so much. I am not immune to a sword with a gentle voice. Here's the two of the on the verge of becoming a couple; here's what was as far as I can tell the first Red/Boxer smut on the entire internet even though I showed up three years late. Here is a post-game fic in which they finally must discuss the final act of the game.

Baccano!

Maskmaker trio my beloved. I've written over 100k across two separate "Monica is alive" AUs and my sole comfort is that I could never be as obsessed with this thought as Huey is.

Mad Religion is a one of my masterworks: set in the 2001 of an AU where Monica never died, Huey and Monica stumble upon a branch of SAMPLE only to discover that Elmer has already stumbled upon the cult on his own and is trying to make their sacrifice smile. Because that's what he's for--isn't it? If you like writing dealing with unnamed religious trauma, this one is for you.

Other than that--wow I cannot even begin to summarize my work in this fandom. Here's Ronny and Maiza getting to know each other in 1711. Here's Huey being the worst father imaginable to Liza. Here's a lil tone poem of Huey thinking on Monica and Elmer in the 1930s. Conversely here is Fermet leaning real hard on Huey's boundaries. There's more out there, my friends, but it's so scattered. I'm not even mentioning Ronny/Lucrezia here.

Soul Eater

Hello it is I a Medusa/Stein main. And also a "Stein's relationship with Lord Death/authority" main (I was working through some things at the time).

What it Means to Lose Control: When Stein has to give up control in order to fight, some are more than willing to step in and claim it from him. A Medusa/Stein divergent AU. I turned this into an e-book, with some side stories included; you can get that here (mobi | epub)

A God without an Ego: An examination of the relationship between Stein and Lord Death—where it works and where it falls apart. Looks like I never put this one on AO3... well, I'm not linking each piece individually on ff.n. The best way to read these ones is on e-book (mobi | epub)

Prior fandoms

If you want to go further back than "the tail end of my college years" godspeed and for god's sake please don't tell me about it. WallofIllusion on ff.n, you'll find some The World Ends With You, some Ace Attorney (original trio), some Death Note, and some Yu-Gi-Oh!. Also more Soul Eater than I transferred over to AO3.

#fanfiction #tou and her liveblogged life #tou wrote a thing

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thesherrinfordfacility · 7 months

Note

Good morning/afternoon/evening! Three things:

If Crowley is crucified Jesus does that make Aziraphale Judas? You sort of touched on the option in your Fall spec but what about if it's referring to something in s3's modern scenes?

I don't really want the time travel/Book of Life/unreliable narrator theory to be true - I love unreliable narrators, so that could work depending on how it's done, I suppose... but in general I feel like that'd retcon too much of this season? - but I'm beginning to think there could be something to it. It's not just the okay-human-hair-does-grow sideburns and the well-there-could-have-been availability-issues-maybe-Crowley-just-changed-his-style sunglasses which you could handwave away. The shape of his Resurrectionist sideburns and the length of his Job hair seem to change as well - you know, the fricken fake hair that someone needed to deliberately change? There's *something* strange going on...

I forgot to save a link to a - I think Google Docs - meta picking apart the opening sequence and now I've lost it. I was wondering/hoping maybe you or one of your followers knew where it was or even just where I could look? Thank you!

Oh wait, four things. Thanks for all your amazing speculation, it's really enjoyable to read. And I'm glad you said you think season 3 will happen because I have no doubt it'll good but I'd feel much better if it was confirmed, so it's nice to see people being optimistic about it!

good afternoon anon!!!☀️ (afternoon for me, anyway!!!) and thank you so much, it's honestly always so nice to hear that my screams into what feels like a void sometimes do actually land somewhere!!!

re: google doc, the only one im aware of is the Magic Trick You Didn't See analysis, but not sure if this is what you're after... can anyone else help?

as for the rest of your ask: couple of tasty things to talk about here, so let's goooo!!!

i think it could be an interesting concept, aziraphale choosing to betray AWCW pre-fall in the interest of protecting - in his mind - the sanctity of heaven. it certainly would be a fitting bridge, imo, in tone and atmosphere between the pre-fall scene and the wall of eden scene. that being said, i think the analogy would have to be handled quite delicately given the general belief that judas was motivated by greed, or political gain*, and im not entirely convinced that GO would be influenced so literally by scripture, even if allegorically - aziraphale = judas / crowley = jesus could feel a bit... on the nose.

*though, if you consider psalms and john, there is the understanding that jesus chose judas as one of his disciples in order to fulfil prophecy which given that i anticipate there will be a further exploration of free will in GO, this could have fascinating Implications✨

but the thing is: the above only really works narratively, in my opinion, if there is an element of unreliable narratorship and memory modification. if crowley remembered that aziraphale hypothetically dobbed him in, i can't quite believe he would be so cordial, or seem as innocent, as he was on the wall. that, to me, screams that he doesn't remember all of the fall specifically (and his conflicting/piecemeal recollections of why and how he fell in s1 would make sense), at which point there would need to be an element of memory erasure.

as for the source of the memory erasure (and anon, im writing this on the assumption that you haven't read all of my musings, so forgive me if im repeating shit youve already read!), this is where i think i think the BOL comes in. i think the whole wording around 'cease to exist' - upon being erased from the BOL - potentially refers to angels losing memories of their angelic self.

however, the issue with this is that we have crowley and beelzebub both remember snippets of their time as angels (funnily enough, when talking about 'extreme sanctions' to frighten the younger angels). so, whether the BOL in fact erases memory, or if instead it erases angelic grace, i think regardless it has to have something to do with the sentence of falling.

im not a huge fan of memory-wipe plot devices for the same reason you've said - i think it removes too much character accountability - but the allusions to it in respect of crowley in s2 are too much to ignore, so there must be a grain of truth to it. and we know heaven has the power to do it - they outright plan to erase gabriel's memories in ep6.

all of that being said, however - i personally don't subscribe to the 'metatron has been fucking about with reality and memory and has been rewriting it using the BOL' theory. personally (and this doesn't mean i wouldnt be 100% on board with it if it turns out to be the case), i think it's a little too convoluted, even if it does explain the sideburn/hair length/sunglasses shenanigans.

i hasten to add here that even i am not fully behind my own time-travel batshit theory, because it doesn't really make a whole lot of sense and is similarly ridiculously convoluted, but i do think there has to be an in-story explanation for these discrepancies (ie. it's nothing to do with wardrobe choices or dt's filming schedule).

the fact that only (iirc) crowley is affected by this weirdness however is compelling, because lbr; who would care enough about crowley himself for there to be any fuckery where his specific narrative is concerned? well, that only leaves aziraphale and crowley himself*.

i have to admit that i need to examine the job and resurrectionist minisodes closer to see which specific scenes show the discrepancies (and possibly look at the 1941 minisode to boot), but the thing is - we know that crowley has the power to affect time. messing about with his own timeline, possibly in a bid to protect aziraphale (?) or prevent him going back to heaven, would account for a lot of his lines and his decisions in s2, and to my mind would account also for the very suspicious colour grading in s2: what is posed as a non-diegetic might in fact be the opposite, and the reason why we're seeing so much yellow and red grading is because it is all literally influenced by crowley's power himself... essentially, we could be seeing a colour signature of his power.

*i know metatron could be in this list; he obviously remembers him and bears a grudge, but im not convinced at this point that he is that threatened by him. he is able to separate crowley and aziraphale rather easily by social engineering - i think timeline/reality manipulation would be a bit overkill...

alternatively (and i can't take credit for this, this was my bf*), could it be that aziraphale in his new status as supreme archangel goes back to try and prevent AWCW falling? crowley rejects his offer of restoration (quite rightly), but aziraphale wants to prevent the pain that follows his fall, fully believing that he didn't deserve it, and goes back to the pre-fall scene to prevent AWCW asking questions?

that would explain in some sense why aziraphale seems to have a concept of punishment during this scene (when, to my mind, there's not currently any firm narrative explanation as to why he should). obviously it doesn't work, aziraphale fucking about with time - and trying to influence/retcon past free will - and AWCW is made to fall as punishment on aziraphale (hence scapegoating AWCW). this in turn would explain why crowley doesn't seem to know why he fell; he 'only asked questions'.

*both bf and i understand that there are a lot of loopholes in this (we were just spitballing about your ask, anon!) and im personally not sold on it because of what it could implicate for the wider narrative, plus it doesn't quite make sense re: the colour grading, the changes in crowley's appearance etc, but it is a valid speculation and could hold some weight... would probably need to think on it more to see if it is more plausible than im currently giving it credit for!!!

just a couple of ideas, and nothing that i firmly believe!!! i think one of these days, because all of my speculations link in together, i might need to write it all up into one long essay - but until that day, i love answering asks like this that make me think more on themes and allegory, and speculate on s3 - frankly, still in the wake of s2, it's what's keeping me going!✨

#good omens #ask #s2 meta #metatron spec #the fall/the great war spec #pre-fall aziraphale spec #AWCW spec #s3 narrative spec #book of life theory #memory wipe theory #god is dead theory #ineffable plan spec #batshit time travel spec

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royalreef · 10 months

Text

(( Not gonna lie though, as seldom as I get the chance to pull it out, I love Miranda as a source of Faustian deals.

I’m sure people are aware of what I’m talking about, because Miranda does feel a pressure to be useful and to offer help to people to be wanted and seen as useful, and often feels uncomfortable not adding her resources in when she knows she can help. And so, it does semi-regularly come up, that Miranda will offer to do the impossible for someone else, that she can do the impossible and wants to do so when someone has an issue that they cannot solve themselves.

And, sure, not all of these are necessarily Faustian deals. The closer it is to something that she should rationally have as a part of her title, the less it’s likely to come back to bite someone. Her offers of money are often the cleanest cut you get, and she’s even bought a house for someone else before, and that wasn’t a Faustian deal either. The more physical it is, the less likely it’s got strings attached.

However, the extent of Miranda’s powers are where the topic starts to come up, because I wasn’t just exaggerating when I described it as doing the impossible. There are ways that, through the Merkingdom and her contacts within the Merkingdom, that Miranda can bring someone back from the dead. Cure illnesses that do not and should not have cures. Change someone forever into something else. Things that are impossible, that should be impossible. Things that only she can offer.

The issue, of course, is that the more impossible it is, the bigger the chance is that you now owe a debt to someone else that they can lead you around by. The Merkingdom now knows these people by name, and the Merkingdom being aware of anyone is a very, very bad position to be in. Miranda very seldom goes into detail on how these things happen, what specifically she’s done to ensure that they become a reality. She did what you asked, but there are always stray elements to it. Things she will not be informing others of, not until it becomes a problem. You might have gotten what you wanted, but the process to get there could have taken other things from you, or left you a pawn of something so much larger that you do not fully know what the consequences are. More than enough to suggest that, no matter how impossible it is, no matter how perfect the solution seems, it’s not worth it. The solution will be so much worse than whatever the problem is, and no one will ever state the catches before its done.

And this is the part I seldom get to write, because very seldom do muses take Miranda up on her impossible offers, if she even suggests them to begin with. Miranda knows what she’s dealing with, after all. If she doesn’t want someone to get in too deep, then she won’t mention it. She will simply leave it out of the words that she says, and she will never bring it up again.

Which is a shame, because I would love to write these sometimes. Miranda often takes great pains to come off as not very threatening, partially because she prefers it and partially because it’s a willing manipulation, but it’s very clear upon looking into the Merkingdom further or considering the implications that something is very, very wrong here. The Merkingdom should not be able to do these things. It should not be something they are able to throw around like candy. And taking a step further back from that, thinking about what it would take for them to be able to do such, paints a much different picture than what the sales pitch suggests.

This is also, of course, where most of Miranda’s actual Faustian deals come from — it’s usually a more proper political and professional deal than something she takes on personally. There’s a lot of powerful entities that now owe things to the Merkingdom, that have the Merkingdom wedged in places that gives them power, and very seldom do they know the sheer extent of it. They still take the Merkingdom up on these offers, being unable to not say yes to these sorts of benefits with seemingly no cost in return, but they absolutely seem too good to be true because they are.

But the Merkingdom doesn’t talk about all of this for a good reason, which makes discussing them with those outside of those deals difficult, and thus, very seldom do I get to bring them up in threads. There’s simply too much that Miranda’s just not saying!

#Most secret royal advisor || OOC #Given by Divine Right || Headcanons #And no matter what you choose‚ you're gonna live it || Wishlist #(( come closer let miranda fix all of your problems for you

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terramythos · 4 months

Text

System Collapse by Martha Wells Reading Notes

Full Review Here!

-ohhh fuck new murderbot explodes

Chapter 1

-I am glad to continue the "slightly out of order even in microcosm" style

-ok WHAT is it redacting. It sounds embarrassing.

-"I could have said a one liner but the ag bot scientifically couldn't understand me if I did so why bother" omg

-Another Sec Unit with somewhat heavy focus, which potentially tried to kill Murderbot, I'm sure this will be irrelevant and have no implications

-multiple uses of 'it/us'.

-God I love ART

-well I think one fun idea we could explore is there being rogue Sec Units completely separate from Murderbot (/Three, who Murderbot freed). It is theoretically possible others could have figured out what Murderbot did, or even other methods it didn't.

Chapter 2

-"fuck proprietary software" rant. So real bestie

-the slavery theme continues. Like obviously it's major to Murderbot as a character, but here the surviving colonists are framed as "salvage" to a corporation. So. Yeah looking forward to more of that.

-YEAH MAYBE ART'S PROTECTIVENESS BECOMING HAIR TRIGGER VIOLENT RESPONSES lS A BIT CONCERNING.

-it's giving Rimworld vibes

-yaaaay more neopronouns wooooo

Chapter 3

-ARGUCUSSION. Might steal that

-murderbot I'm beginning to seriously consider that the threat assessment module is just anxiety

-WHAT DO YOU MEAN REDACTED. HELLO?

-murderbot adding increasingly catastrophic hypothetical contingencies to worry about is far too relatable

-ART quantum as fuck

-what does redacted meeeeaaaan why does it keep happening what is going on that murderbot doesn't want the reader to knowwww

-ok there being such a heavy focus on ART and how unusual it is and how much it is capable of doing and being at once… in conjunction with the title… is a little. Hm!

-Ratthi my friend Ratthi

-"HUMANS CAN ALSO HAVE AUTISM ITS NOT JUST ME" ok go off mb

-was redacted a nervous breakdown or something?

-Ratthi getting defensive about Murderbot 💖

-"at least nobody had noticed" lists 3 of the 4 people as probably having noticed

Chapter 4

-"I don't know how to respond when humans say [be safe]. It was always my job to get hurt". :(

-ok why would a pre-CR ruin be actively powered. That's a little. Odd.

-i know this is just a reminder expository dump but I do still enjoy the concept of alien material just causing weird shit to happen to human biology and technology sometimes.

-MB precisely citing a historical reference is. Something. Did it suddenly gain an interest in this

redacted

-Tarik going from "random extra red shirt coded character" to "oh wait you have a backstory and thematic character foil shit going huh". 👌 the good shit

Chapter 5

-its been spelled "hanger" not "hangar" a couple times which feels like an error

-'murderbot, why are you like this' I mean

-oddly specific media similarity queries is oddly relatable

-murderbot low self confidence is :(

-framing its friends helping it in a difficult time as covering for its mistakes sure is a way to look at things

-ok so I guess murderbot is having like. Ptsd related stress nightmares? Hence the redacted ("inaccurate") memory? Murderbot doesn't dream like a human as far as we know so it wouldn't be a shock that everyone is confused about it.

-I guess there could be another explanation but

-yeah the story describes it as a "flashback" which is a ptsd thing. But I guess then I'm surprised murderbot hasn't had something similar happen before considering some of the things that have happened in the series. I guess it isn't nearly predictable in humans irl either, but still.

-poor murderbot

-ok so when it said "I froze" it meant that literally in like a computer sense

-"I guess machine intelligences of that era were too polite to say 'that sounds fake but okay'" LMAO

-the pre CR system seems interesting and I like the framing of their convo in an extremely basic programming language (if that's the right term for it)

-telling that it doesn't have a word for 'client'

-and how did BE get there so fast…

Chapter 6

-not Tarik sitting like me

-GOD why did "explaining the existential horror of the governor module in LanguageBasic" make me laugh so hard

-so I'm pretty sure the implication is one of the main humans sold them out to BE, which is how they knew where to look for the separatists. Though since ART speculates they got there early, I guess the main colonists could have as well, but that doesn't explain the BE SecUnit trying to (presumably) hurt Murderbot.

-on that subject, that SecUnit might have (1) immediately identified Murderbot as an altered SecUnit and (2) that's the reason it attacked the ag-bot how it did, either to test the theory or because it knew MB would be okay. But that also doesn't explain how it would have avoided the automated report to its governor module.

-AdaCol2 being horrified about a governor module even existing:(

-OMG AdaCol2 having its own extensive media storage. That's so cute omg.

-so to this point in the series MB hasn't been characterized as "part human" despite being partially made of human material. It's always considered itself more of a bot with mostly inconvenient human neural tissue. And now that human neural tissue is causing worse problems than it has before (PTSD/flashbacks).

-SO when ART here says "the part of you that is human" that's significant. It makes me wonder if MB is going to be reframed as "part human" in a way the series has avoided so far… or if ART is genuinely just wrong about that.

-but MB's resistance to even being treated as a human indicates SOMETHING there… compared to its acceptance of being repaired and healed while framed as a bot-- and its fixation with being 'broken' like a machine when that's not really the problem.

-just. Very interesting to think about.

-MB did mention just before this scene that human neural tissue is essential to understanding visual media like TV shows. And we know how important that is to MB. So I also wonder if that is a factor in characterizing MB as "part human" (maybe even retroactively).

-OK the little cut in with Mensah saying "you just don't want to talk about [whats wrong with you]" supports the entirety of the above. So.

-& leaning heavily into the theming outside that… and Considering the title…

-oh Ratthi & Tarik having Something Going On recontextualizes some earlier scenes

Chapter 7

-ok this is the second hint that someone is leaking info to BE. And like the OBVIOUS candidate would be Tarik. But I kind of hope it isn't, if thats where we're going.

-'would it have been kinder to kill you, before you disabled your governor module?' 'yes.' What a fucking gut punch. Jesus. The whole exchange.

-Murderbot is not okay :(((

-inspiring change through the power of media! Yaaaaay

-I like the implication that MB used Sanctuary Moon to kinda.. rewire its brain after the governor module. To heal, I guess. Like that's pretty obvious if you think about it, but I like seeing it acknowledged directly.

-what a cool way to potentially solve the main conflict. It's so character appropriate. I really like this

Chapter 8

-"die trying. It's not the worst thing that could happen." AAAAAAAAA

-ratthi my friend ratthi

-i like the bit about media analysis and applying that to your own craft. Relatable

-last minute group project energy

Chapter 9

-'the documentary explained the reality of the situation. I think that's the opposite of a sales pitch.' LMAO

-he shot at Leonide? So… inner BE politics?

-there is something grimly funny to me about the shortening to "BE" for Barish Estranza for purely personal reasons 1 person maybe reading this will also understand.

-i think it's interesting that we mostly use terms like "forcible indenture" in place of just "slavery". It gets called slave labor, yes, but the corporate-whitewashing term being juxtaposed with the horrible reality of it is quite striking.

-more about ART being quantum. For lack of a better word as the narration hasn't used that term yet. But idk how else one would describe that

-i have a dreadful feeling Iris might get killed off but that would be one hell of a thing to drop this close to the end. She just gets a lot of characterization this book and there's a heavy emphasis on her importance to ART. and we already saw what ART was capable of just thinking MB got hurt or killed last book.

-sees 'Hostile!SecUnit' explicitly written in the text looks at Martha Wells I Know What You Are

-i know they're friends and that's like a predictable thing but I like how MB and ART have gradually changed to be more like each other

-i think AdaCol2 is just out of commission despite MB assuming it betrayed them. But ART had that comment about it being more sophisticated than it let on… but I don't think it would betray them based on the characterization so far, like its horror at the mere concept of a governor module and uploading the documentary for them.

-did we know SecUnit hands are metal

-Tarik being badass as a background detail

- YAY AdaCol2 back

-the idea of a human augmented to be the HubSystem is a little horrifying. And introduced in media res so like "don't think about it"

-ok a reasonable justification for not freeing the two SecUnits. Like it can't happen all the time. But it's still upsetting knowing what it's like to be one.

-BUT giving them the means to do so later like MB did with Three in Network Effect is nice. If ill advised as it realizes later lmao

Chapter 10

-if Leonide doesn't piece together that MB is rogue ill be shocked

-THE FREED SECUNIT HELPING THEM SCREAM CRYING

-ART drone is like. Drunk

-i kinda like the framing of the humans taking over to help SecUnit and ART

Chapter 11

-MB was worried about Ratthi :(

-'booped by the pathfinder' god why is that funny

Chapter 12 -oh no is Holism like. Another ART

-yeah, confirmed. Huh. So there's more than one semi omniscient space ship hanging around. It's not just Peri. I didn't even suspect that.

-yeah honey you DO need therapy.

The end!

Ok so. Thoughts. We kind of end in a similar place as Network Effect, with Murderbot deciding to leave the Preservation team to go with ART. This story feels like a character

development add on and I'm not sure if it was originally planned when Network Effect was written.

That's not really a criticism because we do learn interesting things. There's a heavier lean into ART and its functional existence. MB has a realistic response to the traumatic events of Network Effect and we have to deal with the fallout of it. Which I think is important instead of jumping to the next arc right away. We also get heavy characterization of 2 newer characters, Iris and Tarik. Tarik especially gets a lot of development. I legit can't remember if he was in Network Effect. But he's a human character foil to MB which I think is a good addition to the story. We have had multiple bot foils for MB so having a human one is good (Gurathin doesn't really count imo) Since as this book emphasizes, MB is kind of both.

My speculation on what we go to next? This book had a heavier emphasis on MB being partially human. That's always been true but not something MB likes to think about or identify with. And the trauma response to Network Effect is framed as a human part of MB. So how do we explore that in the future? I think back to how MB talking to Bharadwaj was integrated into Network Effect and how that explored its trauma and past. Now we have trauma and the present, and the implication that MB will get actual therapy, so will it be similar?

We can obviously examine a lot about the University. We got a taste that there's more to it right at the end with Holism's existence reveal. That's pretty major and there may be way more to it. All we know about the University really is ART and its humans. We could conceivably have non ART/Peri ship characters that are similar to it.

The big elephant in the room mentioned in this book is the ComfortUnit MB freed early in the series. What happened to it? And this book adds another SecUnit to that (2 technically but we only see one do something with its freedom). Will they come back into the story? And since they know how to free themselves will they spread that to other constructs? Will MB helping others on its journey have a knockdown effect throughout the Rim? That seems like the most likely solution to construct slavery, which is like the MAIN CONFLICT/problem of the series.

One thing MB has mentioned a few times is that some rogue Units do respond to sudden freedom with violence-- which is an understandable response, honestly. But that isn't something we have seen. MB just… kept doing its job for 4 years before the Preservation team discovered its secret in

the first book… and it's implied the one it freed in this book plans to do the same thing. Three wasn't violent either and is characterized as more… childlike, I guess? The ComfortUnit just fucking booked it the second it could. So we haven't seen violence happen with Three and the other Units MB directly freed but it's something that could be a conflict later on if suddenly a bunch start going rogue in that kind of ripple effect. There's the CombatUnit from book 4 that I vaguely recall had no interest in being freed and was incredibly violent. So who knows.

#taylor reads #reading notes

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quinloki · 1 year

Text

A Light Touch

Fem Reader x Eustass Kid

CW: language, assault, violence, sexual themes and situations, implications of non-con, loss of limbs, blood. 18+ Only.

Beginning - Table of Consent

Chapter 8: Love and Hate

Your life gets into a little bit more a routine as your second week of being out of the hospital begins. Kid and Killer are becoming morning and evening staples, coming by with breakfast and dinner on a regular basis. A couple times during the week they don't stay to eat with you, business is picking up and they're needed, but you don't hold that against them, even though the little apartment seems impossibly empty without them.

You did get a schedule for your prosthetic. You go in next Monday to have your stump examined, and mapped, so they can create the connector for your neural hand. Then you'll have that surgery, recovery, and the fabrication of the hand attachment, and after almost a month since your accident you'll start going through rehab for the actual prosthetic and learning how to use it.

Your only real big issue was Decken.

You'd exchanged an unfortunate number of texts with him and you were starting to run out of ways of trying to get him to go away. You considered actually going out to coffee with him, but you hadn't promised that you would, only that you'd think about it, and the more you thought about it the less you wanted to do it.

Since then, every time you tried to get him to let it go, he'd just get more persistent, and start saying that if he couldn't take you for coffee then he could bring coffee to you. Having him at your apartment again was absolutely not an option. You hadn't even wanted him here the first time, and if he had an invitation from you in record form - like a text - you'd never get rid of him.

The whole debacle was coming up on a week. It was Thursday, one more day it and would be 7 days of dealing with these terrible texts. If you couldn't get him to drop things before Kid and Killer showed up for dinner tonight you were going to tell them, and however Kid wanted to deal with him then you'd just be okay with that.

Decken: It's just a coffee. A quick cup.

Your patience with this back and forth was beyond thin. You'd been trying to be civil and polite and nice during the entire thing, because you knew full well how these sorts of things could go south fast. You were expecting Kid and Killer soon and you didn't want to have bury your phone in your bed again just to avoid the deluge of texts.

You: At the risk of sounding rude, I want neither your company nor your additional apology.

Decken: I'll be on my best behavior.

You felt your eye twitch, and your blood pressure go up. How dare he try to trade on good behavior when his very actions up to this point already showed how terrible his behavior was. This whole deal was harassment, it didn't matter if he wasn't being cruel or vicious with his words, the persistence alone was the definition of harassment.

You: You haven't listened to me this entire time, your behavior is atrocious. Go away. I tried to be kind in turning you down, but you're clearly not getting it. Buzz off.

You hit send and set the phone down, walking away from it for a moment and trying to cool your head. If there was a response you needed to be level-headed about it, to avoid any sort of escalation beyond what you'd already opted to push things to.

A minute. Two minutes. Ten minutes. Your phone was silent. You let out a small sigh of relief, and then decided to text Eustass. You were shaking with nerves, and you wanted him to be here sooner rather than later. You needed to tell him and Killer about all this anyway, in case it wasn't actually the last of it. You just hoped neither of them would be too mad that you hadn't said something sooner.

You: Hey, can you be by sooner?

Red: Packing up as we speak. Should be there in twenty. Soon enough?

You: Yeah. Got something I need to talk to you about.

Red: No one likes hearing that, Mouse.

You: lol sorry, you're right. It's about Decken. It's not a bad talk, it's just conversation about a greasy bastard.

Red: Problems with the court ordered restitution?

You: Not so much. I don't want to get into it through text, I'll tell you when you get here.

Red: On my way shortly.

You washed your face in the bathroom sink to try and kick some of the nerves rolling around in your stomach. You paced the apartment and little bit as well, trying to throw off the excess energy that was building in you. You considered making tea, but Kid and Killer usually brought you some, and there was such a thing as too much tea.

You managed to knock off enough of your nerves and the associated excess energy and were stretching to keep your body from knotting in on itself while you waited. There was a knock at the door, taking in a deep breath you let it out before opening the door, trying to steady yourself against the weight of the impending conversation.

There was a disconnect in your brain as you open the door to see Vander Decken standing there. Ill-fitting hat, cheap suit, greasy countenance, and your face reflected in the mirrored sunglasses. Your small smile for Eustass fell from drained from your face quickly, as your brain caught up with what you were seeing.

Even as you moved to close the door you could see the smile spread across Decken's face. You threw all your weight behind slamming the door, and felt it shudder as it smacks into him. You didn't know how strong Decken was, or wasn't, but you hoped it knocked him back enough. You kick off the door, wanting to either close it, or smack it into him a second time as you scramble for your phone.

A harsh tug at your hair nearly takes you off your feet, pulling you off to the side and sending you into the wall of the hallway with a grunt. You heard the door shut and the lock click, and start looking around for anything to use for defense. You grabbed an umbrella, deciding to swing it like a bat, hoping that the wooden handle had enough heft to do something.

Decken dodges the swing, and then puts his arm out and pins the damn thing to the wall. He's got you beat on reach and strength. For the first time in your life you're really mad you never took anyone up on learning how to fight. There had to be things that short people could do to defend themselves.

You could see Decken's shoulder move, but the blow from his hand was something you only felt, your eyes hadn't seen it coming at all. The smack from his back hand make your teeth rattle and knocks you off balance. As you stumble, he grabs your hair again and pulls you down backwards to the floor. The combination of movements has you dazed and off balance and you crash into the floor hard enough to push the air from your lungs.

His legs pin yours, and he slams his weight down on you as he pins your forearms to the floor, knocking the wind from you a second time before you had even recovered from the first. You're hacking and wheezing, scrambling to breathe as tears sting your eyes.

In a haze of fear, you realize he is practiced at this. Struggling to break your arms free at the very least you hoarsely grunt for him to get off of you, but there's not enough air in your lungs yet. He moves your arms together over your head, holding them in place with one hand as you gasp to catch your breath.

"Get off! GET OFF!" You scream as more air fills your lungs. The glinting flash of metal stops you and Decken taps the side of your face gently with a wicked looking dagger.

"Now kitten, I'm going to need you to behave." His smile is as slimy as he is, and everything about him looks greasier to you right now. From his skin to his hair to his very soul, and it was almost like you could feel him dripping onto your skin.

You keep your eye on the knife and speak softly. "I'll behave." You could heal whatever he did to you, but if you lost too much blood you were pretty sure that'd be the end of it all. You just had to try and stall. Kid and Killer were on the way, and you just needed to stall until then.

"I don't doubt that kitten." He tries to purr, but even his words are greasy. He puts the knife away and licks his lips before running his hand down your waist. His hand goes under your shirt, touching awkwardly along your skin, and you jerk in revulsion before you can stop yourself.

"Now, kitten, you said you'd behave." His tone was admonishing, and playful.

"I will! I am... I am, it's just," You swallow hard and do your best to look him in the eyes. "We haven't even really had a date, and so I think we're moving a... a bit too fast?" You explain, offering your best apologetic smile.

"Oh, but we're destined to be together, there's no need to be shy."

"Destined?" You didn't like the direction this conversation was going anymore than you're current predicament.

"Mm, you felt it too, I'm sure. Those moments in the courtroom. You looked at me so shyly, face red, glancing at me like that." His eyes were glossed over, like he was lost in his own world. You jerk when his hand hikes your shirt up higher and he grabs the end of your left wrist like a vice. It was almost completely healed, even the tenderness that took forever to go away, but his grip was painful on its own, and the sharp pain brings tears to your eyes.

"Stop struggling, kitten, or I'll bring the knife back out." He promises, leaning down toward your face.

A knock at the door renews your struggling, with much more vigor than before. "KID! KID HELP ME! HEL-mfffph!"

Decken covers your mouth, but you had screamed loud enough to be heard across the street, you were sure of it. He releases your wrists and begins raining punches down on you as your door is unceremoniously ripped off its hinges by one very big, very angry, very strong Eustass Kid.

Kid's prosthetic was built for fighting, and you could hear Decken's jacket rip from the force of the hydraulic powered grip as Kid grabs him and pulls him off you. Kid throws him out into the yard, almost to the street with so little effort it's terrifying.

"Mouse?" He snarls, his tone is only forceful to get your attention.

"I'm," you spit blood from your mouth to speak, your cheek and split lip throbbing. "Fine. I'm... f-fine." The realization of what had probably almost happened sinks into you and you started to shake. Kid glances over at you when Decken doesn't get up right away, and his golden eyes take on a fiery look.

Your swollen cheek and bloody lip were enough to enrage Kid, but the fact that you were pulling your shirt back down as you sat up has his blood boiling. He looks like a juggernaut, lumbering toward a rodent, he was just so much bigger than Decken in that moment.

Decken was either too ignorant, or too focused on you, to fully comprehend how dangerous Kid was. The greasy fool scrambles to his feet and lunges at him with a knife. Kid grabs the knife with his metal hand, pulling Decken closer as he mangles the wicked dagger between the hydraulic gears of his custom fingers.

"Mouse! You callin' the marines?" Eustass bellows, not looking away from Decken.

"I... Uh... yeah?" After you answer him, a funny feeling strikes you, as though you had just decided the thumbs up or down on Decken's life.

Eustass leans down toward Decken his grip threatening to shatter the bones of Decken's fingers and smiles a terrible toothy smile that causes the smaller man to pale. "Hear that? Mouse says you get to live."

Kid's flesh and blood fist clenches, and he back hands Vander while his metal hand still held the man in place. A few swift blows make short work of the creep, knocking him senseless and probably loosening a few teeth. Eustass let Vander's body crumple to the ground when he realizes the grease ball has fainted. You were already on the phone with emergency services, and it would only take a couple of minutes for them to arrive.

The lady on the other end of the phone stayed with you while you waited for the marines and ambulances to show up. The marines separated all three of you and took your statements. You told them everything about Vander, from the accident to his harassment, and how that had turned into this.

When Decken came to his senses he started screaming about your betrayal. The sound of his voice made you pale a little and the officers around you excused themselves and helped move him further away. After what felt like hours, everyone left. Kid wasn't arrested, but he was asked to come down to the station the next day and fill out a written statement.

Eustass stands in your doorway and rubs the back of his neck as the emergency personnel leave. He was calm, but now he was assessing the damage of having opened the door the way he had.

"Sorry, Mouse, this is gonna take a day to fix up right." He admits. "If not a little longer."

You nod, then shake your head, then just kind of sit down in the middle of the floor. Eustass takes a step closer, but he seems to be keeping his distance while also trying to block out the outside world for you. You take in a shaky, shuddering breath and let it out slowly, willing yourself not to cry again despite the day's events.

"Kid?"

"Yeah Mouse?"

"Hug Me. Please." You whisper, reaching out to him as a few frustrated tears escape you. "I want... I want to feel something I've consented to. Please."

Kid steps forward, crouching down around you, and pulls you into a gentle hug. It was easy to understand why he called you Mouse from the beginning. He was so broad-shouldered and, just, so massive, that it was easy for you to disappear in him.

You hug him back for a few minutes and are relieved to realize you feel safe. Decken hadn't shattered your capacity to be in physical contact with someone you trusted, even someone as big as Eustass who could easily do whatever he wanted to you.

"Hey Red?" You ask after you take a moment to calm down. Eustass clicks his tongue in response to the nickname. "I don't have a front door, Red."

You feel him flinch a little, but he doesn't grumble about the nickname. "Sorry, Mouse."

You chuckle weakly and lean back to look up at him. "My knight in hydraulic powered, cold rolled steel armor, do you have a front door?"

Kid snorts, and then laughs, and then he hugs you again – a little harder than before, but it was still warm and comforting.

"I do, Mouse, I do."

Next Chapter

#A Light Touch #eustass x reader #one piece eustass kid #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #eustass kid x reader

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electricbluebutterflies · 1 year

Note

“we’re assigned to this mission in which we have to pretend to be a married couple, but i’m actually really in love with you”

Or, corporate spies on a cruise / how many romcom tropes can I fit into almost 6k. Jessica/Leto, PG-iiiiish (there's very vague Implications), also on ao3.

She’s done worse. She can’t easily remember when, which is never a good sign, but she’s done worse.

Corporate espionage is a weird career, and Jessica is occasionally convinced that some higher-up at the agency inexplicably hates her. On paper, she’s a great asset; in person, a mundane-pretty thirtysomething white woman is as forgettable as it gets. She doesn’t get the exciting assignments, fine, but she’s talented at fading into the background and seeing what isn’t seen and that should be enough and-

The moment she sees the phrase “cruise ship”, she deeply considers quitting on the spot. Then she sees the payout. She’s done worse and it paid less than this. She can survive ten days observing every service-oriented flaw on a floating wedding cake in the Caribbean. How bad could it actually be?

Answer – it’s a partnered assignment, and she does not get to choose who the agency sends with her. Oh, and they’re supposed to be playing newlyweds for some reason that Jessica has no desire to find out. Fuck her.

She finds out those details two days beforehand, and on the one hand at least her counterpart is someone she’s dealt with in passing but on the other hand… yeah, something on high definitely hates her, this is proof. She knows him more by reputation than personality, but supposedly that’s charming enough, and the man is very easy to look at, and-

Newlyweds. On a cruise. For ten very, very long days. With someone she has… not exactly a crush on, but only because she doesn’t do crushes or anything else in the normal spectrum of human emotional attachments. Someone she wants, maybe? Someone she won’t mind having to play couple with?

She’s going to die. She’s going to experience multiple emotions at once and fall over the edge of the ship into the perfect blue embrace of the Atlantic. She’s convinced.

Technically, the fun begins on dry land, in a questionable airport hotel somewhere in Florida – Jessica has learned to blur every detail she can in her mind, and specific locations don’t matter anyways – where everything she will need for the assignment is waiting for her. Too many revealing swimsuits in too many bright colors, and she half wonders if the implication is she’s supposed to be playing trophy wife and honestly she doesn’t have the right curves for that and-

She hears the click of the door unlocking and turns to look, hands still full of oh she is absolutely going to kill whomever thinks she looks decent in bubblegum pink as soon as she figures out who they are, and she can’t help that her heart skips half a beat. This sort of paired assignment, she reminds herself, will be easier with someone she can stand. She can fake affection if she’s not actually faking that much. She can-

“Oh thank goodness,” he says, taking her in. “At least you’re competent.”

She knows him more by reputation than personality, and the paperwork looks perfect. A few years older than her but not enough that it matters, not as much of a shapeshifter as she is but compensates more than enough by supposedly being able to talk his way out of almost anything, the kind of past-assignment pedigree that justifies their profession. Likable, she’s always heard. Polite enough, the few times they’ve interacted before. Not someone she’s scared to be alone with for the better part of two weeks. Not-

“I’m surprised that’s the word you start with.” Her own reputation, she knows, is… less shiny. She’s capable enough, and out of that she has become proud, but no one would ever mistake her icy tendencies for anything like charm, and-

“Did you consider why the payout looked unusually high?”

“I’m here. Of course I considered it.”

“Sometimes a contract comes along they can’t really say no to…”

“And usually those are the contracts that get me stuck somewhere unpleasant for multiple months,” Jessica finishes. “Not this. Not a paid vacation.”

“Paid vacation where they fully expect one of us will get food poisoning at the very least,” her counterpart corrects. “They want lawsuit bait, not trade secrets.”

“So the plan is… what, be the most obnoxious customers this cruise line has ever seen?”

“I was thinking opposite. Be normal. Be as absolutely normal as possible and don’t get any damage control run on us.”

She likes him, dammit. There is something in her that wants to defer, to not overthink this, to enjoy not being on her own on an assignment where she’ll probably burn like a lobster and-

“Plot detail seems unnecessary,” she says after a comfortable silence.

“Means we stick together and have the same experience. If something goes wrong, we both see it.”

Sounds plausible enough, but doesn’t mean she has to like it. She can be calm, she can do anything in public with enough determination to make it look real, but she doesn’t… she doesn’t…

Under such circumstances, admitting her lack of baselines does not seem like a good idea. All of the things she’s never done for her own purposes, never thought about herself that way, never seemed safe enough, never-

Something in her emotional state must slip through her careful externals, she realizes as her counterpart moves closer. There’s something warm about him, she thinks, something anyone could fall in love with and she could, she doesn’t know whether she wants to but she could, she could-

“This is only as awkward as we make it,” he says like the decision has already been made, close enough to touch her but he doesn’t. “As long as we hold hands in public…”

“You do see this, right?” She lifts up a scrap of pink floral bikini, an abomination that will find its way onto her body in the next few days even as she currently hates every detail. “There’s a set mood here. It isn’t exactly…”

“It’s not that bad.”

Jessica laughs, and at least this man won’t intentionally be the cause of her problems. “More revealing than I would’ve picked. A lot more revealing than I would’ve picked.”

“Oh. That kind of problem.”

“I’ll deal, but-“

“They don’t expect outfit reports.”

“The whole suitcase is in that vein. I’m sure most women would be okay with it, but I’m…”

Personal rule number whatever – she does not discuss her background with anyone. Ever. Especially not someone she wants to like her, on the rare occasions that happens. It just… doesn’t end well, and she can’t risk that right now, she can’t-

Instead of some attempt at a reassuring comment, he moves away and goes through the other suitcase. She turns her head to watch, and she’s almost jealous – more muted colors, practical, probably all comfortable. Less visual expectations, and she wants to say something cruel about it but instead she bites her lip hard enough to taste blood, instead-

“Here.”

An outstretched hand, a dove-gray tshirt, the smallest possible peace offering and her heart melts.

“Thank you.”

“It’ll help us be convincing if you wear something that looks like mine. Safe way around…”

“I’m sorry I’m not-“

“Don’t overthink this. Whatever happens, don’t overthink this.”

* * * * *

At least the hotel room has two beds. Not that Jessica sleeps well – she’s too adapted to privacy, and being in the same space as an unknown factor is enough to cause distress. Nothing happens; in another life, she thinks, that man would make a perfectly amicable roommate. Unfortunately…

In the morning, she puts on the most subtle outfit she can – not saying much, but she still tries – and an amount of lipgloss she thinks may be inappropriate on anyone old enough to rent a car, and she sticks out her hand and lets her counterpart put the unnecessarily fancy set of wedding rings on her finger.

“With this ring, I thee… are there specific vows for a temporary situation?”

“None I’ve ever heard,” she replies. “There ought to be. A different wedding ceremony for couples no one thinks will work out. Or marriages of convenience. Or…”

“Can’t say I see myself as the marrying type. This may be as close as I get.”

There’s a sadness in his voice, a moment of broken eye contact, a sense of self-doubt Jessica recognizes like a mirror and she thinks in that moment that she would do anything in the world to take that pain but this is no time for her own emotions. Instead a soft smile, instead-

“What, you can’t imagine bringing someone else into this life?”

“Would you?”

She’s speechless for a moment, wants to come up with a good decoy answer, can’t. “Never even considered it.”

“Or after, maybe? None of us stay forever…”

Is he flirting with her? She’s pretty sure yes, and that’s just a nest of problems, and-

“Haven’t found a good enough reason,” she says, hoping that sounds like the end of the conversation. “Not sure whether I ever will.”

They’re quiet as the day truly begins, quiet as they shift into roles and become invisible. The rule with such assignments is to keep backstory minimal and easy, and the proximity of the assigned dynamic means no reason to discuss it. They’ll figure it out as needed, which she’s pretty sure already means her partner will say something and she’ll just go with it, she wouldn’t be surprised if he’s decided every detail of their fake life and honestly she has no problem with not thinking about it and-

This kind of trust-fall could be a mistake, she knows, but she can’t imagine anyone who’s been with their agency that long is anything worth fearing. Especially someone who’s openly side-eyeing the whole situation they’re currently in. Especially someone who gives her a look that feels like nonverbally asking for permission before he takes her hand.

She decides, in the blur of boarding and trying to hold back the instincts that want to find the weaknesses of every other cruise passenger she sees, that she’ll lean into her natural personality a little more than she suspects anyone wants her to. Be quiet in public and save all her comments for the safety of closed doors. Pass it off as just overwhelmed if anyone has concerns, and that’s accurate enough, and-

“You okay?” he asks, quiet tone and crowded space giving opportunity for openness.

“We’ll talk later.”

“Anything I need to know?”

“No. Just internals.”

“Doesn’t automatically mean-“

“You don’t need to worry about me,” she says, and it comes out harsher than she wants but she doesn’t care. “Not… not like it’s real.”

“And if it is?”

“That’s more of a problem than anything I have going on.”

This is no place for such a conversation, and they both hold back until they reach their room, which is… on the smaller side for a higher-end cruise ship, Jessica guesses, and probably on the cheaper end too. One bed that she has some doubts will accommodate both of their bodies comfortably. An equally small bathroom. Maybe designed this way to force its temporary occupants out into all the activities their vacation provides, but-

“I’ll take the floor,” she says before this too can turn into anything. “Or… that chair doesn’t look too bad to curl up in, I’ll be fine, I-“

Her counterpart gives her an unimpressed look, still a warmth to it that she can’t quite pin, but… he’s trying to be decent to her, she suspects, and she’s not making that easy for him. “You’re not sleeping on the damn floor.”

“Give me one good reason not to.”

“Several. It wouldn’t be comfortable. You didn’t sleep for more than half an hour straight last night and don’t pretend that’s not what happened. I’m not sure why you’re scared of me but-“

“Scared?” she repeats with full venom. “That’s how you’re interpreting this?!”

“Either scared or repressed. Nothing else is really-”

“Option two.”

He’s quiet for what feels like a few moments too long, just out of reach in this space that makes her feel small and trapped, and this is why she offered to keep what distance she can, this is why-

“Still? After… what was it, seven years in?”

“Seduction is different from the mundane. I can compartmentalize screwing someone I can’t stand. Not so much…”

He’s decent-looking and treats her like a human being and that’s a combination of problems she doesn’t need, she’d say if she were stronger. He’s distracting. At the same time, this may be as close to normal as she ever gets and-

“I’m quitting after this,” he says after another awkward silence. “They know already. You won’t have to deal with me again. Just get through the next ten days and forget this ever happened. Whatever you have to do. But you are not sleeping on that floor.”

“I don’t suppose you’re offering?”

“We’re both functional adults. I won’t try anything.”

She decides, against her better judgment, against a lifetime of cultivated paranoia and the fear of her own human heart, to believe him.

* * * * *

First, dinner. First, the realization that they will spend most meals with three other couples, none of whom are particularly interesting as far as Jessica is concerned. She turns her mind off, nods and affirms as it feels right, doesn’t totally process what backstory she’s agreeing to and doesn’t particularly care. It doesn’t matter. Ten more days, and then-

What if this is the motivation she needs to get out too? She’s been thinking about it for a while, what a quieter life might look like, and maybe…

No. Modern women do not quit their stable jobs due to what is quickly turning into unrequited love for someone they have no chance with in the outside world. That’s a reckless idea. She’s half tempted to do it anyway.

They get through dinner and a safety demonstration and then her counterpart suggests they take a walk to explore, to get a better sense of wherever the lawsuit bait they might be looking for may be. She feels herself losing focus and still goes with it, and as time passes she clings more and it feels safe and-

Eventually she realizes she’s crossed the line from tired to outright useless, and she isn’t sure how to say that, isn’t sure-

Dammit, this is why she doesn’t do paired assignments. Vulnerability is a curse.

It’s a few more minutes before her partner realizes something is actually wrong, and even that is subtle and respectful. “We should go back,” he says even though there’s still so much to see and this is still an ideal opportunity. “Long day.”

“I’m fine,” she says instinctively.

“You’re not fine.”

Under almost any other circumstances she’d push back, but… there is something frightfully enjoyable about being taken care of, a sense that her current weakness does not change how she is seen. She is a complication, perhaps, but not undesired. Maybe neither of them is what the other thinks. Maybe…

They’re quiet until they get back to the room, and there’s already a comfort in the silence, a sense that they are well-paired. That’s a start, she thinks, that’s enough of a reason to try to pursue this as any, that’s-

No. Terrible idea. There’s no justifiable reason to escalate beyond the boundaries of the mission. Even that may be too much.

Their superiors didn’t even think to give her normal pajamas. She’s known that for a day now, but it’s different without options, in an enclosed space where it takes too much effort not to blush and if these tiny impractical things are what normal newly-married women wear there may be valid reasons to stay single and-

“That’ll leave marks,” her counterpart says, glancing over her shoulder.

“That may be the point. And this is the most… I hate them. I hate them so much.”

“You don’t have to tolerate…”

“Don’t offer me a future. Don’t say things you won’t mean on dry land.”

“Did I do something to you?”

She’s quiet for what feels like too long, unable to make eye contact, hard enough to keep herself from crying. “No. You’re not the problem.”

“That’s not how you’re acting.”

“It’s not… you’re not… you don’t need to try with me. I don’t expect much and you’re-“

“You really are as fucked-up as I heard.”

Well, now she’s even more confused. She knows the rumors about her – it’s hard not to, she’s private even by the standards of their line of work, she’s perfect but her people skills aren’t where they could be in what passes for her outside life – but that way of putting it is new and it hurts and-

“Does that change anything?”

“Do you think it should?”

No, she wants to say. She wants to drown in the first real thing she’s ever felt, she wants to turn her body and take the first set of kisses she’s actively wanted, she wants to do a lot of impulsive things and she is goddamn terrified that none of them will end well and-

“What I want doesn’t matter,” she says instead, trying to make herself calm.

“Then no. It doesn’t change anything. You are… fascinating. And you haven’t done anything to me yet.”

“Living up to my ice-bitch reputation for a whole day doesn’t count?”

“Doesn’t feel personal.”

* * * * *

They fall asleep separate and wake up entwined. Her eyes open first, and it takes a few moments to process that there’s an arm innocently wrapped around her waist and a few moments more to decide she’s perfectly comfortable. The space is small, she justifies. The space is small enough to cause behaviors that would be unacceptable otherwise. This doesn’t have to mean anything.

She’s comfortable, and there is nothing imminent that needs done, and she is perfectly content to lie there for time without end and be held and claim this little moment for her future daydreams. None of this will happen again; after this mission is over, she decides, she will politely quit the agency and go find some boring office job somewhere and… this here will be the closest she ever comes to romance, and that will be fine by her. Better to deny herself than to want anything so risky. Better to-

Positions change as her counterpart wakes up – she can’t see him from her current angle, his body wrapped around hers, but he too seems to have no desire to move. Already this is more than it needs to be, already-

“Did you at least sleep?”

She could fall for him, she thinks. She could so easily convince herself that this is real. She shouldn’t, but she wants. She could adapt herself afterwards and make it real. She could-

“I did. I… it’s been a long time since I’ve been close to anyone like this.”

“Alright.”

There is still more exploring to do today, but a decision is made to people-watch for a while, to enjoy their circumstances. Somehow this ends up on a pool deck, Jessica in one of the godawful swimsuits and-

“Could you do my back?”

So help her, she’s not getting a sunburn on the first full day, she’s not-

She rarely has reason to remember how touch-averse she is, but it takes effort to stay calm, lying on a deck chair with almost all of her skin exposed and unfamiliar hands trying to cover her in sunscreen. She’s not sure that amount of pressure is necessary, she’s not-

“What are you doing?”

“Has anyone ever pointed out how tense you are?”

“Not while touching me.”

“Just say something if I hurt you, okay?”

She has no intention to escalate, but if her counterpart decides to then who is she to say no. His fingertips feel right, trying to take her tension, take everything maybe, trying to-

“Is this normal?” she asks, barely more than a whisper.

“Maybe?”

“You don’t know either,” she interprets, thankful her current position hides her blush.

“Haven’t exactly gotten as far as a couples’ vacation before.”

“Do I get to be surprised?”

“Lack of interest sound like enough of an explanation?”

“And here I suspected you were a romantic.”

“Idealistic, not…” His hands pause on her lower back, and already it’s easier for them to have the deep conversations without eye contact. “Dreams and reality don’t always match.”

“Never found the right person,” she interprets.

“Exactly.”

The silence becomes comfortable again, the care that makes her melt, the annoying curiosity about whether she might not be the only one having an internal crisis. She won’t move first, she decides. She absolutely will not move first. She’ll just… allow whatever happens. Whatever it is. Wherever it goes.

* * * * *

From there the mission fades into a pleasant routine. Jessica accepts that her intended role is to be a visual distraction, and it’s nice to not think for a few days, to merely confirm what her partner sees. If this is in fact how her career ends, this is a nice bow to put on it. If this is how her career ends…

The idea becomes more tempting as a few days pass, as she starts for the first time in close to a decade to think about what she might actually want. She’d fallen into observation work the same way she’d fallen into working night shift at a hotel before that, a combination of desperation and something about her that reads as impossible to take advantage of, and before that…

As far as her personal mythology goes, she came out of the ground at nineteen with a variety pack of trauma scars. The fifteen years since have been decent enough to her, and she is not healed but she is at least functional and that’s more than anyone in her situation ever hopes for, and-

Those hauntings hit hard on the morning of the sixth day, midway through what she’s decided is going to be an unnecessarily long shower. Mornings on a cruise ship are decidedly boring, even more so without a port today, and she needs to kill time, and her mind won’t stop, and-

She’s distracted. That’s what she’ll say later. She’s distracted, and she turns the water off and opens the door and reaches for a towel and grabs the rack instead and… towel racks, it turns out, are not designed to support a significant amount of her weight. She’s distracted, and she falls, taking the cheap metal off the wall with her, and-

They were sent to find lawsuit bait, she thinks as she processes her minor injuries, and they have found it. She’s lucky, she supposes, just a cut on her hand, maybe another on her shoulder, maybe-

The door opens, and okay now she can die.

“Shit.”

Jessica turns her head and it hurts, like she pulled something on the way down, like she’s going to spend the rest of the trip cocooned in bed. “Yeah.”

Her partner just stands there for a few moments, processing the situation, processing the state of her and for once she doesn’t feel the need to say anything about how visibly worried he is. At least this time it makes sense. At least this time she actually is justifiably distressed. This time…

“Are you…”

“Help?”

This is a different kind of vulnerable, her body curled up in a defense position but all her details still exposed. She is used to being seen, on the rare occasions she has been, with colder eyes. Not this, not this man who isn’t sure where he’s allowed to look as he kneels down next to her, not-

“Anything feel broken?”

“No. Not… not that bad. I’ll be alright. I’m just… not sure about moving right now.”

The towel she’d been aiming for is currently underneath her body; he reaches for another and tries to get it around her without doing anything improper, a caution she doubts right now is the right moment to point out. “Can you move?”

“I think so? Help me up?”

She has been too weak too many times on this assignment, she thinks, but at least this time she can justify. At least this time, one hand keeping a towel around her torso and an awareness how many bruises are forming on her pale skin… anyone would do the same. She is not weak, she tells herself. Unfortunate, perhaps, but not weak.

She feels steady enough on her feet, and her eyes flit to the mirror in front of her, how visible her current state of distress. She ought to push her partner’s hand away and she doesn’t; she ought to ask for privacy and she can’t. For right now, for this perfect fragile moment, she can forget everything.

Disaster averted, the energy shifts and his worry becomes something like visible relief. She’s noticed how quickly his moods change, a more visible adaptability than her own, something powerful and fascinating to it, something-

“I… I heard a crash without a scream and I thought-“

“I run quiet,” she murmurs. “No point in screaming if no one would help.”

“You could’ve. You knew-“

“I can’t break a lifetime of programming in a week. It’s not that easy.”

“You say things like that and I can’t help but wonder-“

“You don’t need to know. I’m out of your life in four days. I don’t need to-“

“What if I want to?”

Every instinct she has wants to say that’s a terrible idea. Fine, he’s motivated her to take a little more control of her life, that’s half a miracle and she probably owes him a kidney for it, but she doesn’t… she can’t…

“And what does that look like?” she asks, and she can’t help but wonder if she hit her head after all, if this isn’t all some unfortunate dream, if-

“I don’t know. Maybe if we’re in the same city at some point after this we see each other and…”

Jessica turns for better eye contact, better understanding of the blooming reality that she’s not the only one holding back, and damn her and her fragile heart, if this ends badly it may be the last thing she does, if this ends badly-

“That’s not what you want.”

“Does it matter? You’re not… you’re cautious and beautiful and-”

“I’m not scared of you,” she says, different weight to it than a few days ago, that reckless part of her that wants to fade into this forever, that wants too many damned things, wants-

“I could fall in love with you, I think. Outside of this. Like normal people do.”

“And if I don’t know how?”

“I don’t either. We could still try.”

He backs away before anything can happen, before either of them has space to do something impulsive. There has been enough awkwardness for one morning; there has been enough awkwardness, she thinks, for an entire lifetime. She should hate this so much, how much stronger her emotions have been this past week, how much-

No, she thinks as the door clicks closed and she steadies herself against the bathroom counter. She could never hate him. Someday that’ll be a problem, if she gets that kind of time, but right now it isn’t.

* * * * *

Their energy changes after that. It is easier to play her assigned role – not that it was particularly hard before, Jessica reminds herself lest she get too stuck in her head, but it’s always easier to play things as real as possible. If they are, in fact, falling for each other…

She does not plan to spend the second-to-last night in what passes for a particularly touristy nightclub, but there’s a dress in her suitcase that looks intended for that purpose, and she hates almost every life choice she’s ever made right now but this is if nothing else an opportunity.

Her self-perception has always favored her mind, not her body. Being considered pretty makes her prey, increases the odds of bad things happening, and she’s done everything she can to minimize the risk. Be unmemorable and be safe. To go against that for her own reasons, to actually care how she is seen…

It’s been one thing to bleed herself into her role, to curl up close at night because something about that man makes her calm like she didn’t know her mind was capable of a week ago and lean into whatever touch is offered and not just make the best of a bizarre situation but make it beautiful. It feels like another to make moves, this close to what should be the end, to make it all real.

She doesn’t like to think about herself as a physical being, but her hair is up out of the way and her eyeliner is perfect and this awful dress covers about half what she would in her own life and… she doesn’t mind what looks back at her in the mirror. Maybe this is what she needs to be.

Her counterpart takes the bait so well – she appreciates how easy he is to read, like being subtle about anything has never occurred to him, like there is never any need to hold back. She half expects a comment, but lingering glances say enough, just a little more proximity says enough, there is not-

“Do you ever do this outside?” he asks a while later, music just loud enough to let them have a conversation.

“Go dancing?” Jessica laughs, like that’s the wildest idea she’s ever heard, like in what world did he get that impression of her but she appreciates the space given all the same. “No. I don’t… I’m borderline reclusive when I’m not working. No friends, no lovers, managed to kill a cactus, that’s not supposed to be possible…”

“Do I get to be impressed by that last bit?”

“I think horror would be a more appropriate reaction. I was only gone for a week that time!”

“So you’re not the type to fill a hypothetical apartment with every plant you lay eyes on. You just keep getting more perfect.”

“What, you’re not the plant-parent type?”

“There’s a difference between having a few houseplants for decoration and a whole greenhouse…”

They’re quiet for a while and it’s a different kind of comfortable, forcing herself to be present in her body, forcing herself to be good at this and oh it is somehow both easier and harder than it should be and-

It occurs to her that this would be a good excuse to take a kiss, and she does. She doesn’t know how to initiate, but this is what she wants most in the world right now and it’s a perfect heartbeat and-

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“But did you want it too?”

He answers with a kiss in return, more deliberate, and she feels something dangerous wake up in her and… there’s no going back from this, she realizes. Someday she’s going to look back on this moment as a turning point, so small but her little life will never be the same after, and-

“We need to go somewhere quieter,” she breathes against his skin, hoping he picks up the implications.

She doesn’t do this, she reminds herself as they drift back to their room. She’s had disappointing sex on a few missions over the years, learned how to make herself adaptable and use her softness as just another tactic, but this is real, fuck, this is real and she’s terrified and-

She doesn’t do this, and she lets her mind turn off for the occasion, lets her partner lead once they’re behind a safely locked door, lets him kiss and touch her and it’s good and she wants and she’s overwhelmed and-

“You have… done things before, yeah?”

Back into her body, back into this moment, back into she’s down to really useless underwear on a bed and her partner is in similar state and looking at her like he’s not sure any of this is a good idea either and-

“Yeah. I have an implant. I’m okay.”

Her instincts already justify this as a lapse in judgment nothing more, but it feels right, familiar somehow, she’s not a romantic but she wants, she wants-

Out of her mind, into her body. Only them, only this.

After, she clings. After, she turns every detail into a safe memory. After – and this is the fear of it all – she barely sleeps and she wonders if there is any coming back from what they have done.

* * * * *

It ends. The details blur as they should, and they end up back in that hotel room where the mission started, a few hours of closure before it all ends. A liminal space, a cocoon, ending and beginning and-

It feels nice to change back into comfortable clothes, to become herself again, but she wonders if that is still enough. If these reckless hopes she has will mean anything anymore. If-

“What now?” she asks, just a little time to kill and all of her anxieties taking up the empty space.

“What do you mean?”

“Do we part amicably and forget this ever happened? Do we…”

Instead of an answer, her partner turns and writes something on hotel stationary and hands her a folded slip of paper. “Open that once you’re on your flight.”

“What is it?”

“A phone number the agency doesn’t know I keep. You’re… different. Call me, if you leave.”

“You still-“

“How could anyone spend nearly two weeks glued to you and not get attached?”

Jessica can think of a several-page list of reasons, but this doesn’t seem like the time. Not when it feels like, once again, she is being offered a new life.

“Trauma bonding is a thing,” she murmurs.

“You really don’t trust anyone.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Try. If you want. If you…”

“I want,” she says, moving closer and taking a parting kiss. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect.”

* * * * *

As instructed, she opens the paper on her second flight and sees not just a phone number with an unfamiliar area code but also a legal name that doesn’t match the one on the paperwork she saw two weeks ago.

She tells the agency she thinks she’s losing her touch and she’d rather not almost die again, but good luck with the case.

A month later, in a new city picked off that private information, Jessica makes a phone call.

“I got out.”

“Complicated?”

“I may be a peripheral witness in a few lawsuits, but… otherwise amicable.”

“What now?”

“I don’t know yet.”

He gives her an address, which later turns out to be a neutral midpoint of a hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant, and a time.

“Start over with me.”

She wants. She does.

#ebf writes fic #leto x jessica #queue

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chasingfictions · 2 years

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i do think it's interesting that in willow's ritual to resurrect buffy it's specifically a snake that she coughs up. like there aren't that many snakes in the series it's pretty much the giant snake monster in "reptile boy," the mayor in "graduation day" and the snake glory uses in "shadow" and it feels interesting that all of those snakes are about the pursuit of something for selfish reasons — "reptile boy" is literally about sacrificing the lives of girls so that rich, powerful men can get and stay rich and powerful; the mayor's ascension in "graduation day" similarly is about power, is about consolidating power, and also involves the sacrificing of a young girl, faith. and like, buffy is the one who stabbed faith, but in terms of the violence done, the mayor was the one using faith to further his goals. he loved her in his way, but still at the end of the day her strength and ability coupled with her destabilized sense of self were fodder for his political ambitions, and he sent her to kill angel knowing full well the danger she could be in. "shadow" is about glory trying to find the key so she can destroy everything in existence just to go home, and even though she doesn't know it's dawn at that point, it's still once again a young, vulnerable girl being implicated, losing her life.

and then you have "bargaining," willow coughing up a snake, in this sort of reversal of "reptile boy" and "shadow," where the snake is this external thing you're feeding to attain a goal. it's much closer to "graduation day," where the snake erupts from within the mayor and consumes him.

and that's interesting when you consider the role of faith for the mayor, the role of buffy for willow. that's the chink in the mayor's snakeskin. the other cases of young girls in snake episodes are very straightforward attempted sacrifices for power. but there's something curious about the fact that for willow and the mayor, the young girls they care about really were stabbed, really did die, and that it wasn't an intentional sacrifice to a snake. rather, it contributed to the swell of desire for power and protection and invulnerability that makes willow's snake and the mayor's snake live inside them, rather than an outer force that they feed.

for the mayor, faith is at the heart of why he wants that power to begin with. the mayor is "a family man" without a family. he's the sort of guy who would say he does what he does "for the children," and faith is that. faith is his adoptive child. he had this plan before her, but it means more now, it's more vulnerable now, he wants to protect her. he genuinely thinks, as you can see in "this year's girl," that without him there is nothing for her. you can hear the emotion and ache in his voice when he says "some people who should be here today aren't." wanting faith's safety is a massive contributor to his feelings towards the ascension and amassing as the season progresses, and yet he is the one who sacrifices her. he sends her on the mission to kill angel which ultimately leads to her coma. the way him becoming the snake is linked to this sacrifice of an innocent life.

and willow is so similar. she didn't cause buffy's death. but her snake arises in this undeath, her snake appears when she traumatically rips buffy from death, in a sense sacrificing buffy in reverse. sacrificing buffy's peace in heaven so buffy can continue to fight against evil, because willow needs her. while willow's stated goal isn't greater power and influence, that's definitely a part of it. i read willow in "bargaining" and beyond as being in deep denial — she really thinks she's not a bad guy, not a bad person, that her aims are pure. and i do think she really Believes buffy is in a hell dimension. but, at the same time, she's been anointed the boss of the group in buffy's stead. she's living buffy's role, by being the programmer of the buffybot, the bot becomes this extension of willow. and there's this curious dichotomy where resurrecting buffy is both this event that gives her tremendous power — she's one of the most powerful witches in the world at this point — and also this attempt to get rid of that power. she doesn't want to be the leader of the group. she's off-kilter. she desperately wants buffy back, so that buffy can take her rightful place as the glue of the scoobies. but buffy comes back fragmented and traumatized and not in a place to be anyone's hero, she's just trying to remember how to be a person again, and the fact that willow's power play to fix everything didn't work if anything only fuels her power spiral. she keeps trying to fix things with magic and intimidation and forcing her will, over and over again, for the rest of the season, so that she can be so powerful that she doesn't have to feel this way, this destabilization, ever again.

and you can honestly read those other snake moments as about destabilization and vulnerability as well. the frat bros in "reptile boy" live and die by hierarchy — they sacrifice people at the bottom of that hierarchy so they can stay at the top, and their position on the top is so fragile, however it might appear. the mayor is deeply afraid of being vulnerable as well — literally he taunts others about how he is "invulnerable," verbatim. he's immortal and unchanging and represents old guard values that are crumbling. the world is trying to eat the things that he holds dear — patriarchy, order, law — so he needs to eat them first. and glory too, is so vulnerable, is in this human form that can be killed at any moment when she used to be the most power being in the world. she doesn't know who she is on earth, she is constantly being destabilized by the shame and desire and feeling that creeps in when you have physical human form, and she wants to go home so she can be bigger than those feelings, squash them like bugs.

i find it so interesting with willow's snake that it's coming from within her, and she's vomiting it up. the desire for power, the fear of vulnerability, the willingness to sacrifice the lives of young girls specifically, that's within her, and she is trying to eject it, compared to the other cases, where they are literally feeding or trying to fully embody that snake. but vomiting the snake doesn't save her from it, because it came from within her. she never acknowledges her link to the snake, and so it keeps pursuing her. it doesn't feel like coincidence that the effigy of proserpexa is wrapped in a snake, and has a snake tongue:

willow's desire for power, for specifically invulnerability — to have protective snakeskin wrapped around her, to have the power to swallow things whole, a power you need when you are so aware of your own vulnerability because you are constantly slithering on the ground — follows her. she can't protect herself from the world, no matter how powerful she gets, and so she decides the only way is to destroy the world.

there's something haunting about that, about the fact that willow is in the world. willow in "grave" is making a suicide attempt, this dark mirror of buffy's self-sacrifice in "the gift". which can also be read as a suicide, as buffy's death wish and depression catching up to her. there's something about willow, buffy's spirit, as per "primeval" feeling SO destabilized without her best friend. wanting someone back from oblivion. she thinks buffy is in hell because she is in hell, and willow's spirit is buffy's spirit, so how can they not be in the same place? willow starting the season trying to make everything better by reversing a suicide, but it doesn't make everything better, from willow's black-and-white perspective, it doesn't necessarily make anything better, the world isn't worth saving. and she ends up right back here. with the snake she didn't accept she had. trying to destroy the world and herself.

it's the fact that in the end, the young vulnerable girl willow is trying to give up to attain power is herself. she's sacrificing herself to the snake. proserpexa both has the power of the snake, and is totally bound by it. and so is willow.

it's the fact that what saves her is vulernability. there's sort of a transitive property you could read into "primeval"'s model of the scoobies-as-buffy. willow is buffy's spirit. xander is buffy's heart. so, transitively, isn't xander also willow's heart?

and willow's heart comes to save her. totally vulnerable. knowing he could very well die. says he loves her. no matter how afraid and vulnerable, and alone willow is, her heart, her spirit's heart, still loves her. and now im crying bye!!! except not bye because this is literally jsut me watching the fucking previously-on of "bargaining part ii" and i have the rest of the episode to watch and did i MENTION season 6 is gonna destroy me

#btvs rewatch #btvs meta #long post.#tw suicide #NOT proofreading this bon appetit

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

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Face your demon

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Could you do A Spike x reader where the reader is in love with him, but doesn't show her emotions (except for getting easily flustered around him), but Spike overhears hears her talking to willow about it and he confronts her, ending in them being together?

Requested by: @wiccanindigo

Requested tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @artsymaddie @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard @cameo-greaves

You were pretty neutral in public. Your face rarely shifted other than to a polite smile or perhaps a confused frown should the moment take you by surprise. Other than this human reaction, you would usually maintain a resting face. One that appeared to most as if you didn’t wish to be in their company. Or anywhere at all really.

You felt a lot. You really cared about your friends, the people you loved. It was just near-impossible to express this. At least, in a way that you were comfortable. It was much easier to hold people at a distance. That way, you didn’t risk rejection. Or painful, bitter emotions that you didn’t enjoy.

So, you tended to hide your emotional side completely. Rather than wrestle with articulating the way you felt. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision, just one that you lived with. You struggled expressing your emotions – not only on your face but also verbally. Any way, really. It could be so hard.

Luckily for you though, you had some very caring and empathetic friends. The Scoobies. They understood and gave you the time you needed – between fighting apocalypses of course.

You were sat in the Magic box with all of your friends around you. Buffy, Willow, Xander, Anya, Tara and Giles. You were characteristically just staring into the centre of the room as the usual antics played out around you.

You contributed now and again although not as passionately as the others, it must be said. You tended to bounce off of someone else’s point and repeat it if you agreed with it with a shrug. As if you would rather be anywhere but there.

You weren’t shy. In fact you came across as the complete opposite. Cool, collected. Near apathetic should your friends not understand how deeply you truly did care – you just didn’t express it as much as most. There was no need to gush in your book. You weren’t one to keep your heart on your sleeve and make the entire room look at it.

Well, that was until him.

Spike ran in, slamming the door shut behind him. It slammed so hard the entire store shook and he sauntered in as if it was nothing. It made the corners of your mouth tug into an almost-smile but you looked down to avoid anyone seeing.

There he was, your weakness. The one that could render you speechless. A flustered mess. A heat would rise in your cheeks and your voice would appear weak and just wholly unlike yourself.

You had it bad. He always did this, walking in with that swagger. Those cheekbones. That look…

His eyes were straight on you. As they always were. You were a mystery to him, one he was so desperate to figure out. You had noticed the way he always made his way to you. The way he dropped his voice and made comments about the others in the room in the hopes of you cracking a smile.

You spoke to him as much as you could, but often your words failed you. You didn’t want to give anything away. Couldn’t. You didn’t want him to tease you, reject you in such a painful way.

He was Spike, after all. He could have anyone he wanted you were sure of it.

The point was, though, that he wanted you. And you were too wrapped up in focusing on how to breath properly when he was around that you didn’t notice.

Spike found your resting face beautifully morbid. He found you to be strong-willed and the very little he sensed or heard from you he found himself clinging to. You would be stamped onto his brain for the rest of his un-life, he was sure of it.

He was in so deep. Thought about you constantly. Wanted to know what you were doing, what you were thinking. Imagined himself by your side. Taking you into his bed… oh, and I won’t even start on the dreams. They left him aching. Such deep, unending desire. For you. God, it could only ever be you.

“Alright, pet? Don’t rush to say you missed me, written on your face already” He smouldered in that way he did. Hoping for any kind of reaction.

You looked up at him before immediately looking away. A ghost of a smile on your face as you shifted in your seat. He took this as an invitation to sit beside you and so he did.

“Hi Spike” You just about managed before your voice wavered. You didn’t like the way he rendered you this flustered mess. But, at the same time you couldn’t help but completely love it.

Your usual cool demeanour gone. Lost in those beautiful eyes of his. You could happily live in his eyes for the rest of your life.

You managed to position yourself in your seat in such a way that meant he made up most of you vision, without it looking glaringly obvious to anyone else. He lived in your peripheral vision. At least this way a little part of him was yours.

You became a little brave and moved your eyes to look at him properly, no longer just from the side. He was beautiful. The way that t-shirt clung perfectly to his torso. The way his leather duster managed to land in such a relaxed way on his shoulders. Effortless cool. Or, that’s what you assumed.

You loved him. His looks. His personality. Just everything. You couldn’t escape it.

Something snapped you out of staring. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you. Staring.

“Huh?” You asked, feeling a heat rise in your cheeks as he turned to face you properly too. You had apparently managed to miss the entire meeting. Not one scrap of the plan had entered your head. You were consumed by him instead.

“Y/n? You sure that’s okay?”

“We’ll be fine on patrol, right love?” Spike smirked at the rest of the room and raised an eyebrow which made everyone reconsider.

“We can switch if evil dead makes you uncomfortable” Xander offered kindly which made spike glare. He wanted you to himself.

“No that’s good- uh, fine. It’s fine. I’ll patrol with Spike” you rushed out at a completely different pace than anyone was used to hearing you speak.

What you were supposed to be looking for, you didn’t know. You hadn’t been listening just focusing on regulating your breathing. Wiping the sweat from your palms at the proximity. He was sat so close to you. You wanted to just lean against him. Whisper how you felt.

You and Spike walked out into the cool night air. Mostly in silence, although you could almost hear the cogs in his mind whirring to come up with something to say. You didn’t realise but he was trying to impress you. Trying to get you to smile. He loved it when you smiled. Near melted.

He then finally asked something he had so wanted to say to you. For such a long time.

“We could, uh, blow this off, go for a drink?” He let the proposition hang in the air.

You didn’t even begin to consider this had been something more than a teasing joke because he didn’t want to be stuck patrolling anymore. Just wanted to rebel against Buffy’s sudden authority in his life.

“Yeah, because I’ve always thought you’d look great with a redwood through your chest” You spoke, referring to what Buffy would do to him should he leave you or the demon to run through the streets.

“Pet-”

“It’d make a pretty accessory. Bring out your eyes” You deadpanned and he just stared. Why were you like this? Why did your flirting so quickly descend into just being rude?

It was like a disease. You were riddled with it. Any sense that your mouth would spill the contents of your mind and something took over. Possessed you, began to say the very opposite of what you wished to say.

You wanted him to ask you out for a drink. Tell you that you looked nice, that he felt lucky to have someone like you to take out. Have on his arm. Show off. You wanted to loop your arms around him and embrace him. Kiss his lips. Have him in your bed. His body yours and only yours.

But, instead, you had just told him he would look better dead. Or, well, more dead. He had taken this as a firm no, you didn’t want to go out with him. He looked upwards, trying to stop the stinging at the back of his eyes before he nodded firmly and just shrugged.

“Whatever, let’s find this vamp”

Oh, right. It was a vampire. You were supposed to be looking for a vampire. That at least narrowed it down… kind of.

Both of you took turns in glancing at the person beside them. So desperately wishing to touch them. Have some kind of intimacy. It was hard having the one that you loved so close and yet emotionally so far away.

There was a distance. A canyon between you that you both wished to cross. But it was so hard. There would be no turning back.

You never caught up with the vampire you were meant to find and Spike walked you home instead when it got too late. You tried to thank him for the gesture but he had turned and walked away. Licking his wound at the rejection you had inflicted upon him without realising.

Despite the fact you had hurt him though, he had needed to make sure you got in safe. Protecting you from harm meant everything even if you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

It had been a couple of days since this unwitting rejection and you and Willow had arrived early waiting to meet with the others at the Magic Box. Giles had gone to pick up some order sat the back. Which left just you and your friend. Well, that’s what you thought anyway.

She was the only one that knew how you felt for Spike. She had seen you watching him, a new expression unlocked on your face. As if she had won a quest or something in a video game and been allowed to see it.

Conversation had quickly turned to this man that you were so in love with it managed to fluster even you. You near hid your face from your friend at even the implication you liked him. But you were comfortable that Willow was being supportive.

You discussed that you liked him. Truly admitted it out loud for the first time. Not realising that the man himself was stood around the corner listening. He loved to hear your voice and so had stayed back because you seemed to speak less in his company.

Spike’s jaw tensed as he heard you talking about this mystery man though. He had never heard you gush this way before. Stumbling over your words to describe such longing. You usually appeared so calm, collected. He wished to be the one that sent you weak at the knees in the way that this nameless idiot did. He guessed it was probably Xander.

Stupid bloody Xander. Gormless nit.

“Maybe, uh, you should tell him? You can’t know his feelings unless you try” Willow offered.

Spike guiltily hoped that you would have to face rejection so that he could comfort you instead. Spend more time with you, prove to you that you could trust him with your emotions. He so longed to have your attention. Your trust.

“I can’t… I-it’s too hard” You sighed and his spirits lifted, maybe this would be his chance instead. While you tried to build up your courage, he could show you how much you meant to him. How much he wanted you.

Nothing could have prepared him for what came out of your mouth next. There had been only a slight pause while you sifted through your emotions.

“He’s so- he’s… he’s Spike” You had no other description other than this spike-ness was all that you wanted. You near craved it. But also these words explained how hard it was. How trying to speak to him was near impossible. Willow nodded in understanding and patted your shoulder sympathetically.

“It could be good for you, y’know? Facing your, uh, demon…” Willow’s voice dried up. Turned into a little squeak. You looked up, confused.

There he was, as if your longing had been a magnet to the man himself. Your eyes bulged and your mouth opened in shock. The most your face had ever given away.

Willow stumbled over some excuse that neither Spike nor you heard before she left for the exit. Allowing you to both speak.

“I’m the bloke you’ve been harpin’ on about?” He said slowly. He did this only because he wanted to hear it from your mouth again. As if he wasn’t entirely sure if he had dreamed it or not.

“We don’t have to make it into a big deal… I’m sure I’ll, uh, get over it” You tried, avoiding the rejection you could feel coming.

“Don’t” He said quickly, “God, please bloody don’t get over it. You’d break a poor dead man’s heart if you did”

“What?” You asked, frowning in confusion. He couldn’t possibly feel the same way… could he?

“Don’t be daft, love. Asked you for a drink didn’t I? Trailed after you despite you not even pretending to take an interest. Been there just in the nick of time before somethin’ nasty ate you?” He reeled off things he had pretty much done in the last fourty-eight hours. It made you gasp with surprise. How had you missed this? “Tell me I haven’t bent over bloody backwards for even a shred of your affection,”

“Spike…” You looked away, it was so hard. You didn’t even know how to begin to say what you needed to.

“Please, don’t shy away. Can’t stand it when your eyes wander…”

“Spike, I…” He took your hand, nodding subtly to show that he was there. That he liked you, that he needed to hear it. Whatever it may be, “I love you”

Spike pulled you into him immediately, knowing this must have bee hard for you. He was beginning to understand. You were like him, petrified of the rejection. The idea that the one that held such promise and stirred such feeling could ruin everything. You restored his faith in love. Rekindled his affections for the notion as well as confirming that he loved you too.

He crashed his lips to yours, his reply to your words communicated in this way. And you understood completely. Lips moving against yours, a display of affection only for you. he was firm in his love but so very tender. He embraced you close, a hand along the small of your back that made you shiver and lean further into him. Deepening this perfect kiss.

You parted, somewhat reluctantly and just gazed at the other for a moment before he spoke.

“I’m just glad you don’t have eyes for the whelp” Spike grinned and it made your face brighten. A smile. One that he savoured as you rolled your eyes at him being so pleased you liked him more than Xander.

He took your hand in his and sauntered beside you. Chest puffed out and proud to have you by his side. As if you had just gifted him the entire world.

Now you just had to break it to your friends. There was no way you would be hiding this.

#Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike imagine #Spike x you #Spike #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #spike fic #buffyverse #btvs fic #x reader #gn #gender neutral reader #gender not mentioned

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howtobangyourmonster · 3 years

Text

TomTom the Minotaur, Pt. 1

Minotaur man with human woman, vaginal fingering

When attempting to traverse an eldritch forest hell bent on leading you astray, it's vital to hire a guide with an excellent sense of direction. It's less vital that he be charming and sexy, but it sure helps pass the time.

“Worth every penny.” That's what his reviews say.

Seeing him in person, I feel less anxious about the journey ahead. Tall and broad, his skin a gorgeous dark brown speckled over in white freckles like stars, horns gleaming and wickedly curved and broad as his shoulders. He'd be intimidating if it wasn't for the kindness of his face. He's damn handsome, but that's not why I hired him. Well, not the only reason.

His mouth curves in an easy smile as I approach. He looks down at me as he finishes rolling the sleeves of his plaid button-down up, revealing the sculpted muscles of his massive forearms. “You must be Stella.”

I shake his hand, my own completely swallowed in his, though his grip is gentle and warm. “Yes, and you're Tom?”

“Yes, ma'am. Your email said this is your first time crossing the Briarwood?” he asks, friendly brown eyes crinkled at the corners in polite curiosity.

“It is, and I'm pretty nervous about it actually.” I admit.

“Understandable, it's a very disorienting place, especially for humans. I'll get you through it, don't you worry. My family has been guiding people through for generations, I practically grew up in there. I've never lost a traveler.”

His confidence is earned; he's legendary even among guides and has the rating to prove it on NaviGate. His services have the price tag to match. Too many people try to cross on their own, or turn to disreputable-but-cheap “guides” who most likely ditch their charges and pocket the money. Disappearances are commonplace. I don't want that to be me.

“I'm counting on your reputation's accuracy, TomTom.” I smirk.

“Are they still calling me that?” he grimaces, one hand rubbing the back of his neck(and putting his glorious biceps on display). “Embarrassing nicknames aside, I don't want you to worry. I'm taking you the safest way though the woods. It's the slowest route, but we won't run into trouble. Should be very boring.”

“Boring is good! I've got all my gear,” I gesture with my head to the large camping backpack I'm sporting. “I'm trying to just think of it as a long camping trip.”

“That's good, that's basically what it is. We're not getting anywhere near any settlements or dens in there, we shouldn't see anyone else the whole time. I hope you brought something to keep you entertained.”

“I've got a bunch of digital books and podcasts downloaded, and a solar battery. And a couple print books.”

“Good call, sometimes the sun doesn't break through the canopy for a few days.” Tom hefts his own massive pack onto his back, hooking his thumbs into the straps. “Shall we?”

I follow him as we take our first steps onto the trailhead that, with his help, should deliver me safely through the Briarwoods, one month from now.

“I kinda expected it to be more...creepy in here.” I say.

Tom chuckles. “Yeah, I hear that a lot. I think it would actually be less sinister if it did look more creepy and dark and gloomy. It's not just that the path shifts and changes, it's that the forest tries to distract you as well as disorient. Like...look up ahead there.”

He points off to the left, up along the trail, to a meadow of golden grass waving in a gentle breeze. The edges of the meadow disappear into a grove of quaking aspen trees, leaves shimmering like golden coins as they catch the light. Suddenly, the whisper of wings reaches me as hundreds of iridescent green butterflies rise from the meadow in a dazzling display of color.

“...Wow.” I breathe.

“Yeah. It's pretty. And absolutely a trap. You set one foot in there, you'll be asleep in seconds.”

I peek into the grass as we pass the meadow, making sure to keep my feet well within the trail. I see bones poking out of the dark earth, and a sunbleached skull staring eyeless at the sky. With a shudder, I turn back to Tom.

The first week of our journey is pretty straightforward. He points out the forest's traps and lures to me. After one incident where I nearly wandered off, following some windswept notes of birdsong(“That wasn't a bird...” he warns), Tom takes to holding my hand as we walk through particularly dangerous stretches of the trail. I certainly don't mind. At night he sleeps in front of the entrance to our shared tent, to keep me from wandering off without waking him. When it happens, he turns me back to my sleeping bag and gently hushes me until I lay back down and sleep. And then teases me mercilessly in the morning.

“If you're so keen on a night stroll, just wake me up, I'd be happy to keep you company.” he winks.

“It's not my fault! It's the damn sirens!” I laugh.

“They're not really sirens.” Tom says. “It's just the forest trying to trick you.”

We're sharing a meal during a lunch rest in a rather lovely spot next to a river. The sun has actually made an appearance today, so I have my solar charger out.

“What's the scariest thing you've ever encountered in the forest?” I ask.

Tom is very still for a while, brow furrowed as he considers his answer. “I think...the scariest times are when the forest has gotten to know you, and it knows what you're afraid of, and it uses that against you.”

He says this very quietly, with the manner of someone who speaks from experience. I don't pry further.

The river is safe, he says, and clear. We take the opportunity to wash clothes and refill canteens.

“Do we have to get back on the trail, or can I wash? I feel pretty grimy...”

“You set the pace, Stella, I'm just here to keep you out of trouble.” he grins. “I wouldn't mind getting clean either. You go ahead first, I'll keep my back to the water, and you just keep talking to me so I know you're alright.”

“Such a gentleman, respecting my modesty.” I tease. I peel off my trail clothes from that morning and give them a quick wash, hanging them up to dry on the line with the other clothes, while I chat with Tom's back. The water is cold and bracing, but invigorating.

“It'll be a few days before we come across another safe water source.” Tom says. “There's a spring we should run into tomorrow but you can absolutely not touch it.”

I drag my nails through my hair, raking the dirt and debris out of it before rinsing it in the river. “Is it cursed? Haunted?”

“It's a mouth.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I dry off with the superabsorbent camping towel I bought for this trip, slip on my pajama shorts and a tshirt, and join Tom where he sits on a log. “Your turn!”

Tom stands and steps back over the log toward the river. I keep my back to him as he strips off his shirt, but my curiosity gets the better of me and I glance back over my shoulder. He bends down to take off his boots, and I take in the sight of his impressive backside straining the seams of his jeans. I'm lost in daydreams when he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of the jeans and pushes them down around his hips, taking his briefs with them. The lines of muscle in his back, the play of light and shadow over the planes and curves of his body are stunning. He bends down to remove the clothes and catches me staring, doing a double-take at my expression.

“Hey, what about my modesty?” he asks with a cheeky grin, one eyebrow lifted in challenge.

I whip my head back around, cheeks burning. “I'm sorry, that was...so inappropriate of me!”

He laughs, voice like warm caramel. “Minotaurs bathe communally, I'm not shy.”

I keep my eyes focused on my shoes. “I went to a minotaur-owned bathhouse in Alberta with my mom once.”

I cringe. Why did I feel the need to say that?

“Yeah? What did you think?” he asks.

“It was nice, I really loved the olive oil soaps.”

“I have some in my pack, can you fish one out for me?”

My mind short-circuits for a second. I dig through the pockets of Tom's pack until I find one of the small bars. When I turn to face Tom, my mouth goes dry.

He's standing hip-deep in the river, sunlight reflecting off the water and making his rich sable coat glisten. His head is tipped back, arms up as he arches his back, and it's obvious he's putting on a show for me. So I indulge myself, and let my eyes trail over his biceps, his horns, the thick corded muscles of his neck, rivulets of water dripping down his body. The firm planes of his abs ripple under the smooth skin that replaces the coat of his shoulders and back. Those white starry freckles splash here, too, and I follow their trail down to a thicker nest of hair where his hips meet the water.

When I manage to drag my eyes back up to his face, he's watching me with amusement.

“I love the way your skin pinks like that when you're embarrassed.” his voice is a deep rumble. He tips his head down to look at me, the gold rings in his ears and nose sparkling at me. “Or...maybe you're turned on, not embarrassed at all.”

Feeling bold, I wade into the river, not caring that my shorts and tee are now soaked and clinging to my skin. From the way Tom is staring, he doesn't care either. I hold out the soap.

“Did you need this?”

“Thanks.” he plucks the soap from my hand, lathers it up, and begins working the suds over his chest, never breaking eye contact. “Your clothes are all wet, Stella. You should hang them up to dry.”

I consider the implications for a moment, before deliberately turning away and wading back to the shore, acutely aware of my clothes clinging to the curves of my ass, my breasts. I peel them off, bending at the waist with my ass directed Tom's way, and I'm rewarded with his deep rumble of approval. Straightening, I wring the clothes out and hang them on the line, glancing over my shoulder at Tom. He's washing his arms, flexing them more than is strictly necessary.

In for a penny, in for a pound...

I wade back out to him and hold my hand out for the soap. “Looks like you could use a hand?”

The smile he graces me with is wickedness incarnate. “Obliged, ma'am.”

I lather up the soap in my hands and move around him to his back, running my hands up along his spine and fanning them out over his shoulders, as high as I can reach. He makes a pleased sound, deep in his chest, as I massage the soap into his shoulders, where his coat is thicker. I use my nails to rake the soap through, gratified as his head tips back and he moans. Moving on, I scrub down his back, appreciating how hard his muscles feel under my hands. I palm his firm ass and he laughs over his shoulder at me.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Extremely so. Are you typically so hands-on with your clients?” I ask.

“Are you this hands-on with all your guides?” he counters.

“Only when they're as gorgeous as you.”

“So not frequently then.” he says. I laugh at his brazen confidence, deserved though it is. “Here, let me.”

He gently turns me around and massages the soap into my back, his large hands feel heavenly as they work out the knots and soreness in my muscles from a week of sleeping on a camp cot. I moan and lean into his touch.

“I like that sound. I'd like to make you make it again.” he says, digging his thumb into a stubborn muscle. I moan louder, my knees nearly buckling. I can feel his cock hardening against my back. His voice is low and heavy with promise in my ear. “I'd like to do a lot of things, if you're interested...”

I reach up and take hold of his hands, pulling them around to my breasts. He kneads them, slippery with soap, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they peak.

He reaches one hand down below the water and brushes his fingers between my legs, a tentative questioning touch. I nod eagerly and spread my legs more to allow him access. Tom uses his other hand to guide my arms up around his neck, my back arched and pressed to his chest.

“Hold onto me.” he whispers as his fingers slip between my folds and find my clit. I whimper as he starts rubbing small, slow circles. His cock is hard and hot against my back as I buck my hips into his hand. His other hand reaches under my thigh to lift up my leg, spreading me further. “I've got you, I won't let you slip.”

I let go of his shoulders and grab onto his horns as he bends his head over me to kiss the top of my head. The finger on my clit pauses to push back the hood, then resumes its assault. The increased sensation has me crying out, emboldened by our solitude.

“Fuck, I'm so close, Tom...”

He slips a finger inside me, slowly working me open on his hand, then adds another. The stretch combined with the pressure on my clit is deliciously agonizing. I'm only dimly aware that I'm begging him to fuck me.

“Oh, you're not ready for that, Stella. Not yet.” he says, pumping his fingers in and out of me with deft turns of his wrist. “Need to work up to taking my cock, don't wanna hurt you.”

I whimper. “Please, I need more...”

Tom works his fingers deeper and faster, dragging them against the sweet spot inside me that has me seeing stars, and I come gasping. He slowly works me through it, whispering how good I feel spasming around his fingers, how he wishes it was his cock, how he wants to watch me ride him.

I'm limp as he lifts me out of the water and carries me back to the shore, the soap long forgotten and lost downriver. He balances me on one of his massive thighs as he digs in his pack for a towel to lay out, then lays me down on it.

“Wait, you didn't come.” I protest, reaching out for him.

“You can make it up to me later.” he winks. I watch him take down our dry clothes and the clothesline, pulling on his fresh clothes and boots. He brings me a change of clothes and helps me pull them on. “How're your muscles feeling?”

“They feel great.” I admit with a lazy smile. “You have some magic hands.”

“I look forward to showing you what else I can do.” Tom helps me shoulder my pack and we continue down the trail, away from the river's edge and into the deeper woods.

#minotaur boyfriend #monster boyfriend #nsft #lemon #exophilia

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momsopposed2theoccult · 3 years

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It’s come to my attention that a good majority of people on this website have a really poor understanding of the conflict between Toph and Katara in “The Chase.” As somebody who loves both characters and their friendship, this irritates me. Without further ado, let’s unpack that in what is in theory supposed to be a meta but turned out more like a rant.

“Katara was hostile towards Toph because the fact that she’s a gender non-conforming girl made Katara uncomfortable because Katara is obsessed with gender roles.”

Alright, so right off the bat this is just... completely idiotic and clearly fuelled by an agenda (and likely also a lot of projection). First of all, how is Katara of “I don’t want to heal, I want to fight!” fame “obsessed with gender roles?” There’s an entire episode in Book One dedicated to Katara refusing to conform to societal norms for women in the Northern Water Tribe! Katara routinely calls Sokka out on his misogynistic bullshit! (Mind you I adore Sokka but he could be a little twerp at times and Katara was 100% right to challenge him on it) Katara is the feminist icon of ATLA! The fact that people act like Katara is some sort of conservative tradwife who loves gender roles instead of the outspoken feminist and political activist she is makes me incredibly angry.

Second of all, Katara was extremely kind and welcoming towards Toph at first. She gently encouraged her to join in with the group as they all set up camp together as opposed to setting up her own private camp. It’s only when Toph refuses to comply with her that Katara begins to get irritated. Mind you, Toph has her reasons for this, something I’ll get to in a minute, but from Katara’s perspective (key word here is perspective) she’s just being an annoying little stubborn, selfish, lazy, anti-social, entitled brat. Of course we the audience find out later that this isn’t the case at all (or at least in theory we should find out later but apparently some people on here skipped that part), but for all her many talents Katara is not a mind reader and has no way of knowing what’s going on inside Toph’s head, nor does she know her well enough yet to fully grasp the context behind why Toph acts the way she does. Katara is somebody who greatly values community and believes in teamwork, so Toph turning down her warm welcome in favour of “carrying her own weight” likely felt like a slap in the face. Not to mention that she’s already emotionally exhausted from having to constantly mother Aang and Sokka. If I were Katara, I likely would have reacted the same way.

Oh and I agree that the “the stars look beautiful tonight, too bad you can’t see them, Toph” comment was out of line, but it doesn’t make her a horrible person. It makes her a 14 year old, and 14 year olds can be nasty, especially sleep deprived 14 year olds. Katara is otherwise a very kind and compassionate person. Other characters have said worse than that. Hell, Toph herself has said worse than that. That being said, it was a deeply hurtful comment and I do like to imagine that she apologized for it off-screen.

“Toph is a lazy, entitled, and classist spoiled rich brat who just didn’t want to do chores and expected other people to wait on her.”

This is another one that makes me roll my eyes and ask if they even watched the show. First of all, the presumption that Toph is a lazy or entitled person is just... laughable. I feel like people forget that Toph isn’t actually an earthbending prodigy in the way that Azula is a firebending prodigy (I could say more about Azula and how her belief that she was the unshakeable prodigal daughter ultimately caused her downfall and how by the end of the series Zuko is arguably a better firebender than her but this isn’t a meta about Azula and Zuko, now is it?). Nah. Toph was a sheltered kid who discovered she had the ability to earthbend, was told that she could never become great at it because she was blind, and in response said FUCK THAT and decided to work her ass off until she was not only great but the very greatest all thanks to her crazy, stupid, off-the-charts nerve, drive, grit, ambition, and desire to prove people wrong about her. Does that sound like a lazy person to you? Believe me when I say that you do not achieve that kind of skill level by sitting around on your ass and expecting to have things handed to you. And entitled? Don’t make me laugh. Toph hates having things handed to her, that’s one of her defining characteristics.

As for the implication that she’s classist and enjoys basking in her family’s wealth and being waited on...... are you stupid? Did you even watch the show? Toph absolutely despises everything about her parents’ lifestyle. Growing up like that was traumatizing and restrictive for her. We’re talking about a girl who likes to play around in the mud for fuck’s sake. Toph does not care how much money you have. She never wanted any to begin with. She even says it herself; “I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. They gave me everything I could have wanted. But they never gave me what I actually needed - their love.” Not to mention that she easily could have continued to freeload off her parents wealth but instead chose to sneak out of the house and make her own money doing what she did best; disproving people’s assumptions about her earthbending. Oh and I’ve seen someone point this out before but WWE is generally considered a “low brow” activity that “proper” people frown upon and shouldn’t associate themselves with. Toph fucking loved it. I don’t know how seriously people take the comics, as they often miss the mark when it comes to characterization (Toph’s, however, was generally pretty accurate), but there’s a part in The Rift where Sokka asks her when she’s going to start charging people to learn metalbending and she gets all serious and flat out tells him that she will never do such a thing, because money doesn’t matter to her. Sharing her one true passion with the world is what matters to her. Oh and the part where she basically tells a bunch of rich and sleazy businessmen to fuck off and “stop thinking about money and start thinking about people’s lives” is just... *chef’s kiss* Sorry my thoughts here are so incoherent but this take is so piss poor and makes me so angry that I don’t even know where to start. As for “Toph enjoys being waited on” I just- *sigh* Toph has such a visceral and defensive reaction to any implication that she is unable to take care of herself. Like I said earlier, that’s one of her defining characteristics as well as the reason for her behaviour in “The Chase.” Where are people getting these takes?

You wanna know why Toph acted the way she did in The Chase? Well, first let’s recap her life up to this point. Toph was born the blind daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the Earth Kingdom. From day one her parents treated her like glass due to her disability. She was not allowed to leave her house unsupervised, and even then she was only permitted to walk around the gardens of her home. Every day of her life she was pitied, gaslit, babied, ignored, emotionally neglected, and made to feel ashamed of herself. She was not allowed to make any decisions for herself. She was not allowed to do anything for herself. She was not allowed to talk to other children. She had no friends. Other people didn’t even know she existed on account that her parents kept her locked up in her own home and didn’t tell anybody about her because they were so ashamed to have a blind daughter. Flash forward to “The Chase.” Toph begins to set up her own camp separate from the rest of the Gaang. Considering that she flat out was not socialized as a child and hadn’t even interacted with anybody her own age prior to a few days ago, this is understandable. So then Katara comes up to her and asks her why she isn’t setting up camp with the others as if she’s somehow incapable of taking care of herself (again, this is just what happened from her perspective) like she’s her mom or something and it just angers her because she thought she joined this group to get away from all that and she doesn’t understand how friends work because she’s never had one, all she knows is that apparently this girl thinks she isn’t capable of taking care of herself, and that infuriates her because it’s the exact same bullshit she thought she was running away from.

There’s a lot more I could say about this but I’m sick of typing so yeah in conclusion both of these takes are piss poor and I’m sick of having to read them. Stan Toph, Katara, and their friendship.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #katara #toph beifong #nora speaks

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