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juletheghoul · 3 years

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Oblivius Chapter 7

This is a CHONKY BOI. THE BACHELOR 'PARTY' IS HERE PEOPLE.

This is by far my longest chapter and I had most of it written before I even posted the second chapter of this story. Makes me SOOO happy how pumped all of you are to read this, it has taken over my life. Keep messaging! Keep sending me asks! 💖

Would love to do little drabbles, memories - anything to do with these two (except spoilers of course)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: TW: INFIDELITY 👀 Angst, yearning, kissing, **18+ [no minors] SMUT** p in v (sex wrap it up) Oral, F & M receiving, language (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Prev Part Playlist

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Age 28:

“I just love her, I love her so much and there’s nothing I can do.” He was drunk and in a bad way.

“I know Fish, it’s tough from here but maybe when you get back you can talk to her.” He knew Pope was trying to make him feel better, but when he’d spoken to his mom earlier in the week and he’d heard that she was seeing someone- it had broken his heart.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting - she’d never promised anything but he had this hope that she’d wait for him. That she’d be there to greet him with the love he’d always craved from her.

“She’s with someone else, I just want her to want me.” If he kept going down this road he was going to cry. He couldn’t cry here. Not in this bar and not when it was crawling with other soldiers.

“I think you should just talk to her when you get home, Fish - things might change when you see her again. Or do the grown up thing, and move on.” He looked at him, regret and heartbreak on his face.

“There’s no one like her.” He said it more to himself than Pope but he heard it all the same.

There was a pretty girl walking over to him now, a shy smile on her face.

“Hi - I’m Claudia - can I buy you a drink?” She wasn’t Spills, but she was very pretty.

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**Present Day**

The week leading up to the wedding was a blur. It simultaneously flew and crawled by. Schrodinger's week.

The dinner was coming up and with it a curious feeling was settling itself in your stomach. A strange mixture of desperation and acceptance. The acceptance told you that if Francis wanted to get married then you should keep your mouth shut and let him get on with his life.

The desperate, possessive part of you reminded you that he was your perfect match, that you shouldn’t let Claudia have him when he so obviously belonged to you. How would you accomplish that though? How could that be done without him hating you for ruining his wedding?

When you were sitting in the restaurant surrounded by the wedding party both those thoughts plagued you. They kept you quiet and pensive, present, but secluded within your own mind as they fought for dominance.

Benny sat next to you like always and you got the sense he was gearing up to make a move and you didn’t exactly know how to feel about it. Your mind was battling over that too.

Do I go out with him and try to get over Francis? Or do I turn him away, and keep pining over a soon to be married man? Choices.

Claudia was almost trembling with excitement, everything she said, everything she did was grating. It all irritated you and you felt the need to dampen her spirits. A malicious little part of you wanted to bring her down a peg. Maybe it was her attitude at the Bridal store. Maybe it was just plain old mean-spirited jealousy. With the dinner almost up, with the bachelor party still to come you couldn’t help it.

It was like a compulsion. The words crawled up your throat and the possessive, angry part of you had to spit them out.

“Oh my God Francis, remember our pact?” Your face was a mask of innocence - just reminiscing with an old friend.

Frankie’s expression changed then, from the same tentative joy he’d been wearing all night to something forced and fake.

“Barely.” His eyes were boring into you, the intensity seemed to be demanding you to shut up about it. While everyone else was still relaxed and unaware of the land mine you’d stepped on, you saw the look Pope was giving you, he knew.

“What pact?” Claudia asked with a breezy laugh.

“It’s silly really-” Frankie cut you off.

“It’s nothing, just bullshit we talked about when we were kids.” He tried to smooth it over with her but she didn’t like that. She sensed his hesitation and when Pope tried to engage them in conversation she challenged him.

“If it’s nothing, then Spills can tell me.” It was said with a bitter sweetness, she had seen through his avoidance and she wasn’t interested.

“Well, when we were in our early twenties - Francis and I decided to make a marriage pact.” You were smiling as though it was nothing and Claudia laughed along with you but you heard the edge in it. She wasn’t amused, and neither was Frankie.

“See honey? It was dumb. Just something dumb kids do when they don’t know any better.” He pulled her close but you could see the stiffness in the way she held herself. You didn’t expect his words to hurt you like that, and all of a sudden you regretted bringing it up.

What seemed like a good way to rile Frankie up was just a cruel little jab at a relationship that you didn’t belong in. A relationship that would go on despite you; in spite of you. You got quiet after that and you saw that he couldn’t bear to look at you.

The battle in your mind was over, and acceptance had won.

You quietly excused yourself to grab some fresh air, the shame at your ploy to ruin Claudia's night sat in your gut and you felt horrible. This wasn’t how you were raised, despite your feelings about her or Francis it was cruel to do this to her on the night before her wedding.

Fuck, now he’ll leave with her for sure. What have I done?

“Hey - thought I’d find you out here. You okay?” Benny had come out looking for you and you smiled at him.

“I’m okay - just needed a minute away you know?” He sat beside you and you tried to focus on him. On his handsome face, how tall he was. If you’d met him a few years ago you would have been all over him.

“Yeah I get that.” He scooted closer to you, until your legs touched and smiled at you. “Look, I know you’re close to Fish, but I’d really like to take you out.” He blurted out the words and you couldn’t help but let out a surprised oh!

He was smiling and he took your hand in his, he was looking at you intently now, making his move.

He was closing in and for a moment you forgot about your shame, about everything except Benny’s mouth. The kiss was soft, tentative. He was testing the waters with you and it was nice. His hand came up and rested on your face softly. Feather light touches on your cheek with the very tips of his fingers.

Objectively speaking, it was a lovely kiss, but it did nothing for you and he felt it.

“I’m sorry.” You rested your forehead on his and he sighed, the air moving the hair framing your face slightly.

“Don’t be, it was worth a shot.” he smiled sadly and you kissed him on the cheek. You both had your answer. The door slammed, breaking you out of your moment with Benny and you saw the back of Francis’ head as he stalked back inside.

----

He wanted to get drunk. He wanted to punch Benny, he wanted to knock his teeth out. He wanted to walk out there, grab Spills by the back of the head and kiss her until she finally understood what she meant to him.

When they walked in together his guts twisted up with rage, it clawed its way up his throat and instead of lashing out he ordered three shots of liquor to burn it away. He drank them quickly, one after the other.

“You and me, outside. Now.” Pope was dragging him away and he wanted to fight but Claudia was asking him what was wrong and he didn’t have an answer for her. Not one she’d want to hear so he let Pope drag him outside. He could see Spills staring at him and he couldn’t look at her.

“What the fuck are you doing right now?” Pope spoke calmly, but his voice had an edge.

“Drinking. It’s my bachelor party, I’m supposed to get drunk aren’t I?” He was pacing, the rage making him restless.

“Why are you marrying Claudia?” Pope stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” The question stopped him in his tracks.

“Do you think that no one can see it? It’s painfully obvious that you’re nowhere near as in love with her as you should be. You’re hung up on Spills and she’s obviously hung up on you.” He was trying to speak calmly and Frankie was pissed off all over again.

“It doesn’t fucking matter how I feel about her - she’s out here with Benny and I’m getting married tomorrow.” He was spiraling.

How the fuck did I get here?

“She’s out here with Benny, because you’re supposed to be getting married tomorrow. If you want to continue with Claudia I’m not going to get in your way, but get your fucking shit together and control your emotions. Figure out what the fuck you want and remember that Benny isn’t your enemy.” He approached him and clapped his arms onto Frankies shoulders. “Fish, you have to figure out what you want here, make it work with Claudia or let her go - stop this living in between shit. It’s not fair to anyone.” Frankie shook out of his grip, too upset to see reason.

He knew he was wrong, he knew he had no right to react this way but it was too much for him. All the little moments he’d thought they’d shared - what had they meant?

What does it matter? You’re getting married, she isn’t.

He ignored her gaze when he approached their table, Claudia was approaching him.

“You okay babe?” She was approaching him with open arms and he embraced her. Eyes closed - trying to feel something other than anger. He focused on the smell of her hair, on the feeling of being buried into the crook of her neck. She sighed loudly and ran her fingers through his hair, soothing and smoothing it out. “It’s just pre-wedding jitters babe, tomorrow everything will be perfect and we’ll be married.” She was whispering into his ear and it was meant to be reassuring.

He felt nothing.

You’re not her. No matter what you do, you’ll never be her and I have to be okay with that.

“I’m okay babe - see you tomorrow.” He kissed her, really kissed her. Tried to muster up whatever he thought he felt for her before and she responded but it was useless. All he felt was anger; she pulled away smiling and said her goodbyes. He glanced at Spills and the look on her face made him feel ashamed.

“Let’s get fucked up.” He said it with a fake smile plastered on his face and everyone except Pope and Spills cheered.

---

His hostility was astounding. He barely looked at you the whole night and you had a feeling it had to do with Benny’s kiss. You had to talk to him about it, a part of you hoped he’d be jealous and realize that you belonged together but maybe that was all in your head. Maybe he didn’t like his friends dating you, or you dating them but that didn’t make sense. Why would that bother him?

You’re the one getting married to someone else here, you dick.

Will and Benny were keeping up with him but as the night wore on everyone came to the realization that tomorrow would be a very long day if they didn’t quit now but Frankie wanted to keep the party going. He wasn’t belligerent, but he was being more aggressive than you’d ever seen. He told the boys that he wanted to continue drinking when they all got back to his house and they agreed but when you all got there it was obvious that Benny and Will were down for the count.

“I’m going to get these two into bed, can you make sure he’s okay and that he doesn’t get too fucked up?” Pope was herding the brothers into the basement where they’d been staying. He gave you a curious look then, a narrowing of the eyes that screamed talk to him.

---

When you walked into his old bedroom he was sitting on his bed, bottle of alcohol to his lips and you’d had enough.

“Francis that’s enough, you’ve had too much and you’re going to be sick.” You were trying to take the bottle away from him but he was stronger than you and he was in a foul mood.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to pull that shit and then baby me.” His tone was vicious and you pulled back.

“I’m not trying to baby you, you asshole- I'm trying to make sure you’re not hungover for your wedding tomorrow.” He scoffed loudly at your words. “You got something to say Francisco?” You were angry now, his attitude was pissing you off big time. Your question set him off and he unloaded onto you.

“Oh I got plenty to say.” He put the bottle down and towered over you. “You fucked up Spills, you knew how I felt about you this whole fucking time and YOU were the one who shut it down. Making this stupid pact so you would be guaranteed someone who was crazy about you while you went off and did whatever and whoever you wanted and then bring it up in front of everyone like it was a joke.” The anger was burning away the alcohol in his system and there was nothing but raw honesty left. “And now what, you’re going to date my friend? So is it anyone who shows you attention except me?”

The expression on his face was angry, but there was a raw hurt in his voice. An old wound that he was blaming you for opening up.

“I have loved you since I was fucking fourteen, and you never gave a shit. You used me and you kept me dangling on a string but guess what, I am not a last resort. I have found a woman who loves me and you’re going to have to live with that.” The words were knives to your heart because for the most part they were true.

You couldn’t stop the tears at his onslaught of painful truths but underneath the hurt his words caused, you were fucking angry.

“You want to tear into me because I’ve been a fucking idiot fine, have at it, but you do not get to shame me for having a moment with someone who likes me. You’re getting married! Am I supposed to stay celibate and alone for the rest of my life because you gave up on me? I was waiting at the airport to tell you that I love you. That I know I’ve wasted time and that I want you.”

“Gave up on you? Are you fucking kidding me right now? So when I call to see how everyone is doing and I find out that you’re seeing someone - I'm supposed to just know that you’ll figure it out? I have been putting off finding someone in hopes that you’ll finally see how devoted I’ve always been to you. I am so fucking pissed off at you and you want to know what the worst part of it is? The fact that I still fucking love you. Even though I’m hurt and so goddamn angry. Even though I have her and I know she’s head over heels for me, you’re the one in my head. I still love you and seeing you like this is breaking my fucking heart Spills. It should be you I’m marrying tomorrow. It should have always been you.” You could see the tears in his eyes now and that hurt even more.

Every single fibre of your being screamed at you to run to him, to wrap your arms around him. Instead you responded with your own truth.

“I wish it was me tomorrow. I know I couldn’t expect you to wait for me forever but I don’t want anyone else. Benny is sweet but he’s not you Francis.” You were well and truly crying now. Everything you’d been holding in came bubbling up, spilling out of you and there was nothing you could do to stop it, it had to come out.

“I should have kissed you back like I wanted to. I shouldn’t have been afraid, I should have seen it and dealt with my own feelings for you. I’m sorry Francis. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize how perfect we are for each other. I’m sorry I was too late and I’m terrified that you’ll leave me behind and marry her, and that I’ll be here waiting for you forever.” Your voice was cracking and high, barely a whisper at certain points with how hard you were crying.

His legs brought themselves to you in three long strides and then his mouth was on yours. Your tears mixing where your faces touched; pure adrenaline coursing through your veins when his hands buried themselves into your hair. It was nothing compared to the inexperienced albeit enthusiastic kiss you’d shared as teenagers. This was all-consuming. His mouth trapping your bottom lip roughly and biting softly to draw out a whimper. His tongue using the sound as the invitation to plunder the inside of your mouth.

He tasted like honey and alcohol, like the gum he chewed and tiramisu. He tasted like all the things you loved in this world and you never wanted him to stop kissing you.

He trailed his kisses down to the line of your jaw, the long column of your neck and up to the place beneath your ear and all you could do was frantically clutch at his hair.

“We’ve been so stupid Spills, driving me crazy.” He was whispering the words into your neck, his hands a vice grip around your waist.

“I’m sorry Francis, I love you - I love you so much.” The both of you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, fervent breathes as you kissed; both trying to make up for lost time. His wedding in a few hours was forgotten, his fiancé didn’t exist. It was just the two of you in his old bedroom where his first kiss had been denied.

You were rewriting that now.

His hands lowered and grabbed at the flesh of your ass roughly and you moaned into his mouth. He brought his kisses to your neck as he decisively pulled your dress up.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for half my life Spills, it was you I thought about while I was away. I would fuck my fist every single fucking night thinking about you letting me taste your pussy.” His eyes were dark with want and you gasped at his words, the alcohol and the honesty making him braver; the words were shooting directly into your cunt, making you weep for him.

“It’s always been you, look at what you do to me, what you’ve always fucking done to me.” He grabbed at your hand roughly and pressed into the sizeable bulge at his crotch. It was hard to form words. It was hard to articulate how you felt now that this was finally happening.

“Will you let me baby? Will you let me bury my tongue in your cunt? I want you to cum all over my face.” He was rubbing at your clit through your panties and it was like you were suspended in amber. Dumbstruck at his words, his confidence - his need for you.

“Yes Francisco, please.” You were gripping his hair frantically as he pushed you onto his bed. His big strong hands pulling your underwear down and tossing it over his shoulder. The same hands pulling your thighs apart to find your slick seeping out of you, all glossy and wet. He moaned at the sight.

“Look at that- so fucking pretty for me.” He made himself comfortable between your legs, grinding into the mattress as he studied your body. He kissed your thighs as he brought his face closer and closer to your clenching core. His facial hair tickling you as he trailed them up up up. You watched him propped up on your elbows, your hands automatically reaching out to run through his hair.

“Bet you taste so fucking good, like peaches.” He ran his finger along your seam, smearing your slick all over your lower lips. He was going too slow. You tried to move your cunt closer to his face but he smiled almost cruelly and held your hips down.

“My greedy girl.” He spread your lips apart and spit into your clit, you felt it sliding down towards your opening but he dove in cat-quick to lap it up before it went further.

His tongue was heaven. You threw your head back as he licked from your opening up towards your clit, over and over. “Eyes on me, I want you to watch me.” It was too much and you whimpered as he let the saliva drip from his mouth and into your clit. Focusing his tongue there, moving it up and down over and over and over. The wet glide of it too much and the string holding your sanity together was too tight, it would surely snap and let you float away soon.

He groaned onto your skin, his eyes steady on you as he slid two thick fingers inside you. Curling them in a way that had you tensing up. He could feel your thighs clenching as he scissored them inside you, stretching you open while his tongue pushed you over the edge. It was too much and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and gave it a long steady suck, you shattered.

He held you down and licked you through it. Lapping up the waves of arousal, drinking you down deep while his fingers pistoned in and out of you with a wet squelch.

You had to push him away.

“You taste so good honey, I wanna eat you for days, until you’re a wet little puddle in my bed.” He crawled up towards your limp body and kissed you roughly, his facial hair irritating your skin but it didn’t matter. Not when you could taste yourself in his mouth, not when he’d made you cum harder than anyone had any right to.

His hands were a blur as he tried to get his jeans down and you helped him. You could see your slick on his fingers, then his jeans and your hip where he held onto you. A little trail of you wherever he touched.

You frantically pulled both his jeans and his boxers down, his cock freed and bobbing between your thighs. You could see the sticky tip of him, angry and red with how hard he was and your mouth watered. You had to taste.

He was surprised when you flipped him over, the startled look on his face quickly replaced with a hungry smile. You took off his jeans and his boxes fully to lay between his legs. You rested your head on the strong muscle of his thigh as you lazily stroked him, the velvety skin of his cock encasing the iron beneath. He watched you with a look of rapture and his breath hitched when you pulled away to scoop some of your own slick from between your legs to make your strokes more fluid.

“You can’t possibly know how many times I’ve imagined this - fuck - give me your mouth baby, please.” He was thrusting up into your hand. You licked a wide stripe from the base of his dick up to the tip, circling it with your tongue. He groaned at the sight of you and he grabbed at the hair at the base of your skull to guide your movements.

You took the tip into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks prettily while he watched you, taking a bit more each time you lowered your head. You were ravenous for him, the soft sounds he was making, the control you had at this moment was intoxicating and it pushed you to take him further.

You took him as far as you could, swallowing around him as your nose brushed up against his curls and the tears leaked out when you let go to take a breath.

“Holy fuck baby, yes - look so fucking hot with my dick in your throat. Let me see you do it again.” He guided you down and you held there as long as you could before you sputtered and coughed, spit and his precum connecting your mouth to his cock.

“Fuck baby - so fucking good, if you do it again I’ll cum…” he left it up to you, taking his hand away from your hair and as tempted as you were to watch him come apart in your mouth your cunt was achingly empty and you needed him inside you.

“Next time you can cum in my mouth or on my face, wherever you want, right now I need you to fuck me.” You crawled up and he kissed you, he was frantic and he licked the spit off your lips and it was so primal you moaned. You found yourself on your back again and he was holding your thighs open while he rubbed his length through your folds.

“I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to pump you full of me, fuck it into you. I wanna see it dripping out of you when I’m done.” He was lining himself up and when he slid in all the way, everything was right in the world. This was how it was supposed to be, the thick stretch of him was perfect, you were so fucking full - your cunt, your heart - every part of you.

“God baby, you’re so tight and wet - feels so fucking good.” He was speaking into your mouth and all you could do was wrap your arms and legs around him. Incoherent whimpers and sounds spilling out of your mouth with his movements. Sweat was beading on his brow, his fingers traced your hairline almost tenderly. His movements are equal parts filthy and loving.

His thrusts were hard and fast, not being able to control himself. You heard the wet, obscene sound of them and it made you wetter. You raised your legs higher, bracketing his ribs while he snapped his hips.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, love you - let me love you.” His words were curt and he wasn’t going to last long so you yanked the straps of your dress down. He leaned onto one arm, reaching down to rub perfect circles onto your clit while he took your nipple into his mouth. Your orgasm crashed into you out of nowhere and he groaned when he felt you clenching.

He brought his hand back up to grab at your hip roughly for more leverage while he fucked into you two, three - four more times before he was spilling into you.

He made good on his promise. He fucked his cum into you. A couple more shallow thrusts even though he was too sensitive and he watched himself do it.

“Look so fucking pretty like that, all puffy and full of my cum.” He watched as it slid out of you and down your ass onto the bedding.

Is this what I’ve been missing out on? Francisco Morales; sex god.

You were too blissed out to move but he went to work, taking off the rest of his clothes and then stripping you of yours. It was difficult to articulate how you felt in that moment, on the one hand this was everything you had wanted. The sex had been amazing, he didn’t just fill your body - he filled every single ounce of you. Your heart swelled when he tucked you into his side and covered the two of you with his blanket.

On the other hand, the postcoital bliss was wearing off and the implications of what had transpired was a weight growing in the pit of your stomach.

Your body and heart wanted to soar; a kite flying higher and higher. Your conscience was the string, and it was being shortened fast. He loved you, he still loved you even though he was engaged and he’d been thinking of you the whole time. You wanted to cry with happiness; with guilt as well.

The guilt was present, reminding you consistently that this man was supposed to be getting a good night’s rest for his wedding tomorrow. Instead the two of you were laying in bed, curled around each other. His spend slowly seeping out of you.

It was hard to focus on it though, especially when his skin was so warm under your cheek. When his hand rubbed at your arm and your legs were a tangle underneath the blanket. You couldn’t help but reach up and run your fingers through the hair matted on his forehead and he made it even harder when he captured the same hand and pressed kisses to your fingers. He broke the silence before you could though.

“I’m still pissed off at you.” He had a dreamy look on his face despite his words.

“I know. I’m pissed off at me too.” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. The scent of his body-wash mixing with his own sweat. You couldn’t get enough and he curled himself into you as you ran your fingers through his hair. Your hands are constantly moving, touching every bit of each other you could.

“We’ve wasted so much fucking time Spills.” There was a deep sadness in his voice, it sliced into you because you knew he was right.

“I know Francis, I’m sorry it took me so long.” You were scratching at the wiry hairs on his cheek, trying to map out the face you loved so much. He sighed loudly. “What's going to happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t know - part of me thinks I should pack up the truck, throw you in the back and drive away. Another part of me wants to forget this whole thing happened and follow through on the commitment I made.” He wasn’t holding back with his words or feelings and although they hurt you couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. You kept quiet, at the end of the day the decision was his. “I have to tell her the truth. I have to tell her that we did this, I cannot show up there tomorrow and pretend like I didn’t.”

You could see the guilt on his face now, the implications dawning on him a little later than they had for you. He scrubbed at his face with his hand and groaned.

“How can I just break her heart like this?” He was spiralling. “She doesn’t deserve this.” You felt like an intruder then, suddenly the closeness wasn’t there, he was pulling away from you emotionally if not yet physically.

“What do you want to do Francisco?” The use of his full name snapped him out of his train of thought and he looked at you then.

“What do you mean?” He looked at you in confusion, as you pulled away from him reluctantly.

“I know it took me way too long to get to this point, and you have every fucking right to hate me. If you tell me now that you want to make it work with her I’ll support your decision. I’ll keep my mouth shut and we can pretend this never happened. I would do that for you because I love you, and I will no matter what. You tell me what you want to do.” The tears were coming down your face as you said the words and as much as it hurt to get them out you meant them.

You couldn’t stay here - you wanted him to make his choice without influence and he said nothing as you quickly dressed and walked out of his room, instead you lay on the couch in the living room, crying softly to yourself. Sleep was nowhere in sight and in a few hours, you’d know for sure what would happen.

----

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

Text

we’re only getting older, baby // george weasley

Summary: enemies // that’s how you and george weasley started out

Request: nee

A/N: this has been in my head a while and essentially it’s a 3-part enemies-to-lovers thing and I am excited about it!!!!! And also Y/L/N is your last name which I usually skirt around but couldn’t in this :)

Reader: female, Slytherin

Warnings: swearing, arguments

enemies // friends // lovers // epilogue

Almost immediately, you could tell there was something wrong with that bludger.

You were a beater, and a hell of a good one at that, and so you had a knack for knowing when a bludger was acting strange. It was your job, really, and you considered the one that seemed to have a death wish for Harry Potter definitely out of the ordinary. Until it broke off the end of Wood’s broomstick and sent him spiralling to the ground, you hadn’t even noticed it and whilst you had absolutely no love for the Gryffindor keeper, or Harry Potter for that matter, you knew that a bludger, especially a rogue one, could do a lot of damage.

Despite the inevitable grief you’d get from your teammates, it was obvious that Potter was probably quite important in the grand scheme of things in the wizarding world and it seemed that whilst you did really want to win the match, you were also pretty fond of being alive. And so, after a few moments of internal debate, you cursed under your breath and set off after Potter, your bat at the ready.

“Y/N Y/L/N, Slytherin beater, is… following Harry Potter?” Lee Jordan shouted over the speakers, garnering a healthy level of confusion from the crowd.

When the bludger came at him, certain to knock him off his broom if you did nothing, you huffed and adjusted the bat in your grip. With a grunt, you smacked it away, sending it spiralling across the other side of the field.

“What- what are you doing?” Potter stuttered; his eyes wide as he looked at you. They turned into saucers when he looked to your right and without thinking, you surged your broom forward and turned, the bludger striking your bat so hard the vibration reverberated right down your wrist.

“No need to thank me, Potter,” you said dryly, looking around for a blur of black in the sky. “Bludger’s enchanted; if you were smart, you’d get out of the sky.”

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Flint and Pucey sandwich one of the Gryffindor chasers, angling her into the Hufflepuff stand. You rolled your eyes at them, already vaguely irritated at the presence of your own morals, their cheating only adding further insult to injury. You couldn’t deny your annoyance that every Slytherin success was surmounted to pure cheating and they did nothing to help the case.

Turning around to reprimand Potter, you groaned when you saw him disappear into the stands followed by a flash of green and white. The bludger soared after both him and Malfoy and you ground your teeth together, reluctantly flying over.

“As Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy search for the snitch, they are followed into the stands by a bludger!” Lee Jordan’s voice rang out. “And Y/N Y/L/N?”

Loud, echoing boos filled the air as you grasped your broom, trying to listen to the sound of beams being broken by the weight of the iron ball. You rolled your eyes, barely stopping in time as the dark object whooshed in front of you, the force of it blowing a gust of wind through your quidditch robes.

As it curved in the air, preparing to circle back into the stands and no doubt maim Harry Potter, you prepared yourself. With your shoulders set back and palms gripping both your broom and bat tightly, you inhaled, watching it gather momentum. Absentmindedly, you contemplated how far Potter would fly if it hit him. Then, with a hefty swing, you sent the bludger over the top of the stands, so far that it disappeared for a few moments in the mist. The sound of your bat cracking down the middle was a horrible one, the wood pinching your palms as you grimaced. You slowied your broom down to a stop and hoped they’d give you a replacement. That is, if you were even allowed on the team anymore, after this stunt.

You only remembered why you’d cared so much about the bludger in the first place when both Potter and Malfoy rocketed out of the stands with their arms outstretched in efforts to reach the snitch you were far too far away to see. A chuckle left your lips as Malfoy hit the ground, rolling over twice before lying still, clutching his side. Potter, however, was a different story and when he tumbled to the ground, your mood soured as in his opened palm, was a shining golden glint that could only be the snitch. Applause and cheers rang out through the stadium along with Lee Jordan’s incessant shouting and you huffed, your shoulders sagging as you lowered your broom to the ground. You’d never hear the end of this, you thought crossly, knowing Flint would more than likely bar you from the team.

Strolling casually over, you didn’t even blink as the bludger soared back from where you’d hit it, never wavering from its desire to pulverise Potter. It exploded in the sky just above him as you dragged your broom across the field, only mildly interested in the swarms of people invading the pitch. You were halfway between Malfoy and Potter when you slowed to a halt, standing your broom up and watching carefully as crowds surrounded them both.

“Oi, Y/L/N!” Flint called; his anger palpable. You clicked your jaw and twisted your head to face him, clutching the handle of your broom tighter at the look on his face.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“The bludger was-“

“I don’t give a shit! Why weren’t you paying attention to the game?”

“Me?” you said indignantly and probably far too loudly. “I was the only one that bloody noticed that bludger going after Potter.”

“That was fine by us,” he said, shrugging. “With Potter out the way, we’d win the match easily.”

“You’re such a fucking troll, Flint,” you snapped. He lunged at you, only for you to slam your hands into his chest, pushing him back.

“Don’t forget whose side you’re on, Y/L/N,” his breathing was ragged as he got close to your face. “Helping Potter’s done you no favours.”

“Helping?” someone called from behind you. “She wasn’t bloody helping anybody!”

You turned around to see the Gryffindor team collecting behind you, the Weasley twins looking decidedly angry as they glowered at you.

“She was firing bludgers at Harry the whole bloody game,” George said gruffly.

You grumbled, tilting your head to the side, already done with the whole debacle.

“He’s lucky he’s alive!” Fred added, scowling. “What, with her stalking him the whole time!”

“Oh really?” you asked, turning to the twins, the air turning tense. “Where were you idiots, then? He’s on your bloody team, isn’t he?”

“Hey!” George leant forward, his fist clenching at his side. “That’s not-“

“That was blatant cheating,” Wood interrupted, his voice stern.

“Remind me, Wood; isn’t hitting the bludger at the other team the beater’s job?” Flint asked, though judging by the dirty look he sent you, you were inclined to believe that his intention wasn’t to stick up for you.

“This is different, Flint. That bludger-“

“Was enchanted!” you said, throwing your arms up, only to catch the eye of George, who seemed more irked than ever.

“So that’s your excuse, is it? Bloody enchanted, eh?”

“Have you ever seen a bludger behave like that, you moron?” you countered, leaning closer to him, itching to just punch him in the jaw.

“Typical Slytherin,” he muttered, his red brows drawn together. “Cheats, the lot of you.”

You started forward, beyond prepared to start a fight when Professor McGonagall stepped between you, fixing her glare first on you before turning it to George.

“I think we have more pressing matters to deal with,” she said pointedly. “Don’t you?”

You stepped backwards, still simmering with anger as you looked at Weasley, who also appeared barely able to control himself.

“Like restoring Mr Potter’s bones, perhaps?” she stared icily at Wood for a moment. “Or maybe Mr Malfoy’s ribs?”

Her stare trailed back to you and her lips twitched and if it hadn’t been for Malfoy’s overly-dramatic groan, you thought she’d probably have never looked away. With a miffed huff, you turned on your heel and stormed off, muttering under your breath.

You didn’t see George Weasley again until Professor Lockhart’s stupid duelling club. You were peeved enough that you had to be taught by a glorified mannequin, but having to navigate around all the spiders that kept cropping up everywhere was slowly pushing you over the edge. George Weasley was just the icing on the cake.

“You know, Fred,” he started, a teasing grin on his lips. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Y/N was the Heir of Slytherin.”

You rolled your eyes, purposefully stepping backwards to grind your heel into his foot. You were rewarded with a little yelp, but you stiffened when you felt him come closer behind you.

“Careful, George,” Fred said, the smile in his voice evident. “You could get yourself petrified.”

You scoffed, turning around sharply, surprised to see George’s face so close to your own.

“Oh, yes, Weasley!” you whispered rather loudly. “You’ve cracked the bloody case; I just go around petrifying people for the fun of it! Brilliant detectives, you prats are.”

They mocked your words, wobbling their heads from side to side as you whipped back to face Lockhart, suitably aggravated as you crossed your arms over your chest. A Hufflepuff from one of the lower years turned around to shush you and in turn, received the full brunt of your anger as you tutted loudly.

“Oh, piss off, Finch-Fletchley.”

Your mood only soured further when George snorted behind you.

Why George Weasley pissed you off so much you couldn’t say. Your head-butting was indisputably his fault with his catty remarks and stupid pranks and all just because you were a Slytherin. It would’ve been a lie, though, to say that you didn’t return the favour. Justifiably, though, you thought. Ever since your first year, it had always been the same; you and Weasley at each other’s throats, somewhat enjoying having somebody to hate, somewhat enjoying the rush of arguing with someone. Thankfully, though, you didn’t have to think about him a lot; you were rarely in the same classes and when you could, you just ignored him for the sake of your own wellbeing.

When you saw Harry Potter and the youngest Weasley boy, Ron, in the corridor, though, spying on the teachers as they examined one of the messages that had been sprouting up all over the castle, you couldn’t help but think of George. His little sister was missing and despite every insult you’d thrown his way, you felt bad for him. You knew that you should’ve reported them for being in the corridors when they shouldn’t have been, but you watched Ron’s expression go from upset to desolate as his eyes settled on you and with a quick decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret, you turned away. They whispered to each other as you walked in the opposite direction, confused as to why you acted as if you hadn’t even seen them.

You did, in the end, regret your kind gesture, and any other you’d done in the past, when George stormed into Slytherin common room, barrelling past the charms and stopping short right in front of you, panting like a stampeding rhinoceros. You clenched your jaw, standing up so that you were chest to chest.

“Was it you?” he asked, cutting straight to the chase.

You narrowed your eyes, fully aware of the dozens of ears eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Was what me?” you said slowly, trying to contain your anger. He really didn’t have a clue, did he? He never did.

“Oh, you know what,” he spat, joined by his brother Fred. You rolled your eyes, knowing that if everyone wasn’t already staring at you, they sure were now. “My sister.”

You bit back every retort you wanted to spout and instead leant forward, poking at his chest with your finger.

“Weasley,” you said, your voice level, but rippling with barely concealed irritation. “I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Yeah, well, you would say that- what?” he stopped, visibly taken aback.

“I heard about your sister,” you said, dropping your hand and looking at his chest. “I’m sorry she was taken. I didn’t do it.”

Fred, along with the rest of the common room, watched your jaw clench before you exhaled. The toll attempting to be civil to George Weasley was taking on your composure was obvious.

George opened and closed his mouth like a fish and, had you seen, you would’ve mocked him, but you didn’t notice. Your just lifted your chin as you sat down, turning back to your book and pretending that you could concentrate on the words with your heart thumping so loudly in your ears. You didn’t look up until he fled the room, his twin hot on his tail.

After that altercation, you didn’t see much of the twins. The castle seemed to somehow go back to normal, the petrified students reanimated again and the blood washed off of the walls like it was never there. Potter smiled at you in the corridors sometimes as well and though you didn’t mean for it, he always noticed the slight curl of your lips in response.

That particular day, you were lurking near the doorway of the Great Hall, waiting for the house-elves to bring out food for you to take on the train home.

As you dug dirt out from under your fingernails, you watched Granger walk past looking a lot less lifeless than the last time you saw her. She stopped in front of you, her smile faltering slightly under your stare, your eyebrow raised in question.

“I see you’re up and moving again, Granger,” you said offhandedly, hoping she would actually do something other than stare. “Can I help you with something?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at you before she just shook her head, scuttling off to where Potter and Ron Weasley were sitting at the Gryffindor table. You rolled your eyes at her as someone clearing their throat next to you drew your attention. You grimaced at the sight of Fred and George.

“Uh,” George said, his face alone enough to flare your irritation. “Harry told me that the bludger at the start of the year was enchanted by a house-elf.”

You stared at him passively for as long as you could before your anger bubbled over.

“So, you blamed me for the work of a bloody house-elf? Oh, right, yes, cheers, George,” you said sharply, watching Fred scurry away, leaving you facing his brother alone.

“Well-“ George said indignantly before you cut him off, leaning closer.

“And let’s not forget that you also blamed me for what You-Know-Who did in the ‘chamber of secrets’-“

“Right, I’m trying to say sorry here,” he said plainly, scowling.

“You what?” you asked, rather breathless after your little rant.

“I’m trying to say that I’m sorry for being such a git,” he said, the air thick as he waited for any semblance of a reaction on your face. “And to say thanks, you know... for not telling on Harry and Ron.”

George expected many things when you opened your mouth then: shouting, insults, a punch perhaps, maybe even a hex. What he did not expect, was rationality and fairness.

“Alright,” you nodded, your expression still hard.

“Alright?”

“Yes, fine, I accept your apology.”

“What?” he said, the stupidly confused look on his face stoking your rage again.

“Are you thick? I said I’m accepting your apology.”

“I didn’t expect you to accept.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to calm yourself down.

“Well, you don’t know a lot about me, Weasley,” you said, your voice surprisingly soft and almost religiously guarded.

He relaxed a little, strangely curious all of a sudden.

“I suppose I don’t…” he said, a wary grin pulling at his cheeks. “Maybe we could be friends?”

In fairness, he’d said it more to judge your reaction than anything; to test the waters between you.

You stared at his outstretched hand with a deadpan look.

“Don’t push it.”

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator

@decadentwastelandtrash

@loveisblindness

@xinyourdreamsx

@brainlesspasta

@hariosborn

@staringmoony

@rexorangecouny

@alittletoomanyobsessions

@peachesandpinks

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@dreamer821

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@in-slytherin-we-trust

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@princesof-theuniverse

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@ickle-ronniekins

@harrysweasleys

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter #imagine #writing

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Ultimatum”

Welcome back, everyone! We had an unexpected break last week due to the horror going on in Texas. I'm glad we did. Not because of any salty "RWBY is bad right now yay free Saturday" feelings, but because keeping to a schedule for a fictional webseries should never take precedence over peoples' safety. I can't believe I need to type that sentence out, but it's true! Over the last seven days I've seen fans who are not merely disappointed by the mini hiatus (understandable) but outright hostile towards the crew because they... were ensuring everyone survived during an unprecedented emergency? Yeah. Given the highly critical nature of these recaps — including today's! — I want to be clear that my thoughts towards Rooster Teeth's creative choices are distinct from any thoughts about the crew itself, including the most basic forms of compassion like, “I sure hope everyone is okay over there.” In an age where it has become horrifically common to harass creators and even send them death threats over stories, it has likewise become necessary to remind people: Don't do that shit. Never do that shit. If I can teach anyone anything at all, let it be that!

Anyway, dark fandom reminders out of the way, let's dive straight into our delayed episode. It was certainly a doozy. Titled "Ultimatum," we open on a trigger warning for flashing lights. Good on Rooster Teeth for including that, though I do wonder if creators shouldn't be including time stamps as well? Or perhaps a note that you can find those time stamps in the credits, avoiding any (minor) spoilers for everyone else? I'm not photosensitive myself, so I certainly don't mean to speak for that group, but my first thought was, "So how would I watch this episode if I was? Hand on the pause button, hoping I stop fast enough as soon as the lights start?" Hard to do given the surprise nature of the scene. Really, my answer would be, "Wait for the fandom to post warnings of their own, likely including where it happens so I know when to skip" which is perhaps an indication that this information that should be included from the get-go.

But I am glad the warning exists, regardless. The episode itself begins with a shot of Ironwood looking down at the kingdom. He's used his windows as a vantage point since Volume 7, so that's nothing new, but something about this particular shot reminded me of Ozpin, looking down from his tower. I'm sure the response from many would be simply, "Ah yes, the two power hungry dictators watching over their victims," but I think there's a much more nuanced reading here about leaders being expected to fix the literally unfixable and what that responsibility does to an individual. Of course, it's a nuance that is absolutely obliterated by the episode’s end, but the implication existed for a hot second!

Two other soldiers are in the room with Ironwood, reporting that Cinder has helped Watts escape. They try to soften this with news that they still have Jacques in custody, but receive only a, "I don't give a damn about Jacques Schnee." Which, fair. He's pretty useless at this point. It's when Ironwood learns that both Qrow and Robin escaped too that he really gets mad, something his subordinates have been expecting given their scared expressions.

Now, I'm treading lightly here because I realize how this is going to sound given the end of our episode, but I still want to note that outside of that ending... this is a weird take? Just hear me out. Since Volume 7 the show has worked very hard to make Ironwood seem scary and unstable — bad setup for what we end with today — but the problem is that none of it works in context and it certainly doesn't work when compared to other characters' actions. They are literally in the midst of an unwinnable battle and thousands of his people are dying. If the audience wants a human being — who also just lost a limb and was betrayed by half his allies — o remain perfectly poised and polite during that, sorry, but that's not how human beings work. But even beyond this, what’s the message here? Ironwood raises his voice, so does Yang. Ironwood hits his desk, Qrow hits a child. If we're going to examine how Ironwood handles his stress and anger, he often handles it better than many of our heroes. Namely, by continually taking that anger out on inanimate objects. I kept waiting for him to attack his subordinates or attack Winter this episode, especially given where we end up, but it never came. Ironwood always has enough control to break the desk or punch the wall, not the person in front of him. Which, of course, would not be a good thing in the real world. I want to be clear given these sensitive subjects that if someone is breaking things in your presence that's a major problem to address. But this isn't the real world. This is a fantasy world in the middle of a war, populated by other characters who express their anger by punching people, slamming them into walls, or screaming at them until they run away. The story wants us to fear Ironwood long before he makes his objectively horrific choices and it tries to achieve that by showing us characters who are clearly terrified in his presence, by giving us a string of broken objects in his wake. But those details don't land well when we compare them to other instances of stress. In the same volume I have watched Ironwood take a deep breath to calm himself down when things have gone horribly wrong. I've also watched Weiss start a conversation by threatening her defenseless brother. So again, what’s the message here? It can’t be that acting violently towards someone = villainous behavior because, as established since Volume 6, that’s common for the heroes. Why are these subordinates terrified about Ironwood slamming his fist on a table, but Whitley has no problem hugging the woman who threatened him? Obviously there is a HUGE difference between our main group and Ironwood when it comes to other actions (cough-bomb threats-cough), but these day-to-day moments don't match up. The show wants to use violence as a way for us to easily identify the Bad Guy while ignoring all the times when our heroes do the same thing.

All of which isn't meant to be a defense of Ironwood. As we'll see in a bit, there is no defense for what he's done. Rather, it's a way of acknowledging just how badly he's been written. Why does a man who consistently reins in his anger and takes it out on objects suddenly shoot a councilman for literally no reason? Why does a man defined by wanting to save as many people as he can suddenly threaten to bomb his city? Ironwood's characterization is all over the place, in the sense that they keep writing him as the morally gray, sometimes harsh, but ultimately compassionate man he started out as... up until they need a villain. Salem isn't here yet, so Ironwood can shoot Oscar. Salem isn't attacking yet, so Ironwood can shoot the councilman. Salem is currently reforming, so Ironwood can threaten YJR and Mantle. He's the B-plot villain whenever Salem is out of commission, which is a problem for both their characterizations. This filler doesn't make sense for Ironwood and it severely undermines the threat of Salem. You finally introduce the Magical Big Bad and our heroes are facing more of a threat from a guy with a broken army and three loyal allies left? Hmmm.

The tl;dr is that Ironwood's arc is a disaster and, frankly, it's gotten old reading simplified takes of, "It's just a realistic look at what white U.S. men will do in power sweetie :) " RWBY does not have the context capable of conveying that sort of critical take because our world is not besieged by literal monsters and an immortal witch, to say nothing of how real life good guys do not get deus ex machina canes that fix the problem instantaneously. Ironwood is not an example of anti-U.S. imperialism, he's an example of writers who don't know how to write.

Anyway, I'm getting severely off topic. Obviously Ironwood is a major part of this episode, but the problems demonstrated here are two years in the making. This is the culmination of things I've been discussing for months across hundreds of posts... so I should probably stop trying to summarize it all in a few paragraphs lol. Perhaps when RWBY is over — or Ironwood has died — I'll do a single meta on his character, try to pull everything into one, unified argument.

For now though, we have an episode to analyze.

While Ironwood is receiving this news we get flashbacks to Qrow and Robyn. Qrow attacks a soldier in his bird form, which is hilarious. Someone GIF that please. It does raise some interesting questions about this magic though: does Qrow retain his aura and strength in this form (something I thought given his choice to transform during the explosion), or was that soldier just so shocked at being attacked by a crow that he went down easy? We'll never know, because that would require establishing concrete rules for this world. The point is Qrow is going feral in his freedom, throwing punches left and right — did he kill that guard? — while Robyn watches it all from under a rock. They're apparently still somewhere in the facility since all the exits are guarded, but that's not the good thing Ironwood seems to think it is. After all, Qrow is out to murder him. He wants to be there.

We all see where this is going, right? The show is going to ignore Qrow's crazy belief that Ironwood got Clover killed in favor of a "Qrow saved Mantle by murdering Ironwood"/“Qrow got revenge for Mantle by murdering Ironwood” ending. Who cares why Qrow wanted to kill him in the first place now that Ironwood has his finger on the trigger? If RWBY is good at anything, it's writing moments that encourage you to ignore everything that came before it. We'll be seeing more of that in just a bit.

"Damn it!" Ironwood yells, because the show is leaning into its cursing. He orders that the subordinates not return until "you have Qrow Branwen in custody." Here we have another great example of the show conflating what the audience knows with what other characters know. See, we know Qrow has a vendetta against Ironwood. We know their relationship is the important one to the story and that Robyn is incidental. Ironwood doesn't know that. There's no reason for him, as a character, to specify that they only bring Qrow back, but it makes sense for the audience who has the whole, thematic picture. Our understanding of the situation is influencing Ironwood's dialogue, which is... not great.

This entire scene we've had creepy music to hammer home just how evil Ironwood is. Except, as said, he takes a breath to calm down and the music fades. Instead of flying into a rage, hurting someone, or doing anything the music suggests he might, Ironwood calmly calls in for an update — which is when the explosion hits.

It's MASSIVE, seeming to originate from a lightning strike, which is weird, since it's coming from inside the whale, but whatever. The animation is very dramatic and pretty, as we've come to expect of RWBY, but the actual plot is lackluster at best. It's funny though because I thought for a hot second, when Winter and the Ace Ops were caught in the blast, that RWBY had actually done something exciting. I mean, holy shit! There are the deaths we expect from a battle like this. My god, what is everyone going to do when they realize that Oscar's needless attack took out five characters, including Weiss' sister —

No wait, never mind. They're fine.

Let's talk about that "needless" descriptor for a moment though. Do you all remember, two weeks ago, when I went, "Hey, why isn't anyone telling Oscar that that Ace Ops are approaching with a bomb? They're on a time limit! If someone would just mention that Very Important Information then Oscar wouldn't keep standing around to fight Salem." See, at the time I was frustrated because of how the plot was needlessly allowing Oscar to put himself in danger (especially when the whole point of this mission was to rescue him). Now, I'm frustrated because that same plot needlessly wasted the most powerful weapon the group had. There was no reason for Oscar to use literal lifetimes worth of stored energy when the heroes already had a bomb to do the same job! What was the point of that? I guess he took out the other grimm too, but without the whale that still would have been a challenge with a finite end, one Ironwood's army and the remaining huntsmen should have been able to handle. It doesn't feel justified to have Oscar use a weapon kept on the bench for lifetimes when there was another option literally minutes away.

There's so much wrong with this I need another list. So:

Ozpin's cane supposedly stores kinetic energy, which may contradict what we've seen from it before. Regardless, we’ve never heard about this. The all powerful weapon comes out of nowhere

It also begs the question of why Ozpin wouldn't use that power at Beacon and why he wouldn't insist that they try to get their cane back while captured. You had an out this whole time! But we’re going to ignore that because Oscar is a little hesitant?

Which makes YJR's presence even more useless than it originally was, which was already pretty useless. Oscar essentially rescued himself

This kinetic energy miraculously doesn't hurt any people or buildings, just grimm

So what is the point of Silver Eyes? That's been their MO since they were first introduced. Sure, Silver Eyes can be used far more often than Ozpin's cane, but it still feels like a let down to learn that the Big Secret behind this weapon is... the exact same thing Ruby has been doing for years

Like Ruby, Oscar likewise didn't need any practice or training. He just set off this massive attack perfectly and without issue

We have now eliminated the biggest threat to the cast instantaneously — the whale and the other grimm — with no effort from the rest of the heroes. Like the Hound, the stakes are obliterated with no satisfying work on the part of our protagonists

Instead, as said, the actual plan already in place never happened. The bomb just... goes back. Kind of like how Cinder attacked and then just went back to Salem. Penny woke up and then just got knocked out again. We continue to go in circles

This is because no one took two seconds to tell Oscar, "There's a bomb on the way"

Because this threat is gone the show needs a new one, hence Ironwood randomly threatening Mantle with said bomb

The one way we might have justified Oscar blowing up the whale instead of Winter is if he did it to save Hazel, but Hazel is implied to be dead

Maybe he's alive, but if he's not that happened off screen and we're not sure how. It couldn't have been because of the blast itself — everyone else is fine — so what, Salem somehow killed him before she was blasted to bits? While he was holding her?

And there's no body?

Salem was torn apart multiple times during that fight and reformed instantaneously, yet now, conveniently, she's taking her time

None of the characters mention the issues above. None of them admit that there was no reason for Oscar to waste LIFETIMES worth of power when they already had a solution in the works. Fantastic

I need to take a moment to acknowledge that so far this recap feels... bad. Disjointed. Bit all over the place. Which makes a certain amount of sense because that's where my thoughts are at. There's so much going on in this episode — so much wrong with it — that I don't know how to boil it all down into a few, neat claims. This episode is a mess! We're barely a few minutes in and the combined issues of Ironwood's characterization and Oscar's choice have left me reeling. So if you're still reading this, bless your patience, I think we'll both need it for the rest of this journey.

Let's snag a neater plot-point to discuss. Amidst all the chaos Neo literally skips away with the Lamp, clearly thrilled at how her own life is going. Later in the episode she'll text Cinder with the obvious: Salem is going to be pretty pissed when she realizes this is gone. “If you want her name you know what you owe me."

So wait... what is Neo leveraging here? Is she agreeing to give the Lamp back so Cinder doesn't get in trouble with Salem? Give Salem the password she's been looking for? Or give Cinder the password to use the Lamp for herself? What would Cinder even want the Lamp for when she's after the Maiden powers? I'm confused about what Cinder is being blackmailed with. Regardless, she needs the lamp for something and presumably what she "owes" Neo is Ruby. We get a cut to her just to hammer that home.

(Side note: both pictures of Neo are hilarious.)

Before that though, back at the whale, everyone is taking stock of the situation when Marrow cries, "Hey, they were still in there!" I feel like this is another scene meant to make him look like the one good guy in the group — he cares about YJOR while the others can’t be bothered — but as always, that reading doesn't fit well with the situation as a whole. The others have barely had time to realize they're alive. I don't think it's a moral failing that they didn't instinctually worry about four betrayers, one of whom attacked them, while they're still checking that they have all their limbs intact. Besides, why does Marrow assume they're dead? The Ace Ops were caught in the blast as well, yet miraculously came out unharmed. They clearly didn't set their own bomb off, so it's logical to assume that YJOR did something themselves. It feels weird to have a "Marrow mourns them and Winter is the only other character who cares" moment when everyone is recovering from bomb shock and no one even knows if the others are dead. But, of course, the show is out to portray only two of these characters as good people, so ignore the logic and run with the emotion of the scene.

All of which is bolstered by Elm pulling away when Vine puts a hand on her shoulder. Why is she acting cold towards him now? Because they're not friends, remember?

While we get more ridiculous relationship dynamics, Ironwood calls in and congratulates them on the bomb working, but tells them to get back because they have another problem in the works. That would be Qrow and Robyn. Winter decides to tell him about the bomb in person.

We cut to Watts and Cinder watching the remnants of the blast from a rooftop. Cinder has tried calling, but no one answered. Unsurprising, given that Salem doesn't have any other allies left. Cinder says that the plan hasn't changed, she's still going to take the Winter Maiden's power for herself, and Watts can help her by bringing Penny here. He explains that he doesn't have full control over her. Rather, he implemented a virus that is setting her on a single path: open the vault, then self-destruct. Cinder, as one might expect, is furious.

She snags Watts by her grimm arm and threatens to toss him over the side of the building. Thus begins the best part of the episode, hands down. Despite the danger he's in, Watts throws common sense out the window in favor of dragging Cinder in the most satisfying manner possible.

“You think you’re entitled to everything just because you suffered, but suffering isn’t enough. You can’t just be strong, you have to be smart. You can’t just be deserving, you have to be worthy! But all you have ever been is a bloody migraine!”

It's true! You know what else is true? This speech could apply to our heroes as well. Accusations of entitlement and reminders to be smart as opposed to just strong hit hard, considering those are the same flaws our protagonists are struggling with. The difference is that Cinder, miraculously, listens, pulling Watts back to safety and going to cry by herself. That moment is simultaneously more growth than Ruby has gotten and more sympathy than Ironwood has gotten. The woman who murdered Pyrrha is treated more kindly by the narrative than one of our initial heroes and our very first villain has taken more time to reconsider her choices than our title character. You know a show is falling apart when excellent choices are applied to the worst possible character.

So Cinder is crying while Watts looks guilty and we cut back to YJOR's group post-blast. Yang is finally able to answer a call from Blake who is obviously overjoyed to see her. Weiss gives them directions to the mansion and they ask what in the world they'll do with Emerald, currently on her knees, mourning Hazel.

Thus begins the third most frustrating part of this episode. See, on the way back the group continues the conversation about what to do with Emerald, with Yang and Jaune distrusting her vs. Ren and Oscar encouraging cooperation. I can't believe I'm saying this after's Ren's speech and Oscar's entire existence... but I'm team Jaune and Yang here. Look, what Oscar and Ren say — the literal words coming out of their mouth — is nonsense. Ren goes, “We can’t let all of our actions stem from fear," as if Yang and Jaune are being ridiculous for mistrusting Emerald, one of the established villains, after years worth of harm from her. It’s weird that Yang points to her arm as something Emerald is responsible for, rather than being framed or the deaths at Beacon, but the general sentiment of, “She’s done horrible things!” is true. Ren’s perspective is the same simplification that was applied to Ironwood last volume, wherein everyone acted as if he was crazy for fearing an attack on his kingdom... post an attack on another kingdom and pre an attack on his kingdom. Putting generic lines in Ren's mouth about not being afraid makes him sound willfully ignorant, as if choosing to believe that someone is good will magically make them so, to say nothing of thinking it will erase all the harm they've already done.

Oscar at least acknowledges the difficulty here, but then follows this up with, “You don’t have to forgive her… just give her a second chance."

Oscar, honey, that amounts to the same thing in this situation. Allowing Emerald a second chance means working with her, which means trust, which means emotionally reaching a point where these characters can put aside the harm she's done them in an effort to give her that chance in the first place. This actually ties into a post I saw last night, one I've come across before, that claims redemption arcs don't require any suffering on the part of the person who has done wrong. I agree in theory, that prolonged suffering doesn't help anyone, but the problem is that people tend to conflate suffering with consequences and someone who has done this level of harm should face consequences for their actions. The problem with redemption arcs is not that the bad people suffer too much — emotionally and physically beating on them as a form of revenge — but that the people they've harmed are put into situations like this one. If Yang and Jaune let Emerald go like she suggests, they are agreeing that she doesn't have to face any consequences for the damage she's done (which, keep in mind, involves multiple deaths, not including all the lost lives here in Atlas). If they agree to give her a second chance, they are forced to jump straight to some level of forgiveness. We might claim they don't have to forgive Emerald to work with her, but from a practical perspective how are they meant to function, especially during a warzone? Anything she provides them with — information, watching their back in a fight, undertaking missions, etc. — requires trusting her enough to allow those things to happen: working with that info, letting her protect them, allowing her that responsibility. It's all about trust, trust she has yet to earn. In order for a redemption arc to be successful, the power has to be in the hands of the victims. They need to be able to see some justice for what was done to them, be offered some proof that the person in question has truly changed, and have the ability to walk away if they decide no, I don't forgive you, glad to hear you've improved, but please stay out of my life. Jaune and Yang have none of that. There are currently no systems in place for Emerald to face consequences for her choices, she has offered them no proof of her remorse or true motivations, and the other half of the group is pressuring them to give her that second chance without closure or reassurance. None of that makes for a good redemption arc and reducing that to, "So you want to see poor Emerald suffer, huh?" ignores the suffering she has already caused. The group are her victims and they are under no obligation to give her a second chance, particularly under these circumstances, which makes the story's choice to have Ren and Oscar act like Yang and Jaune are being stubborn or inconsiderate a problem. The conversation boils down to, "Give the woman you know to be a liar, manipulator, murder accomplice, and servant of our enemy a second chance based entirely on unfounded faith. If you don't you're letting yourself be ruled by fear."

RWBY's touchy-feely themes really don't sit well within its realistic, morally gray premise. We cannot continually have these characters go through hell one moment and then have others accuse them of being paranoid the next. The fact that all of this is wrapped up in the group trusting Robyn, Emerald, and Hazel over their established allies remains beyond frustrating.

Because yeah, you know how Oscar finishes his speech? “I’ve already gotten a lot of help today from someone I don’t exactly trust right now." Meaning Ozpin.

The story is trying to compare Emerald and Hazel to Ozpin.

"Oh hey, I kept a secret from you after lifetimes of watching that secret lead to betrayal and death. I keep apologizing for my mistakes while ignoring that I had no reason to trust a bunch of kids with such world-shattering information and also that you tore it from me in the most traumatic way possible."

"Oh hey, I willingly joined our world's version of the devil and helped her destroy your school, leading to numerous deaths including your friend and headmaster. It was his death that put Oscar in this position in the first place! I then continued to attack your group, leading to another near death of a friend, and a kidnapping, and the destruction of Amity, until I became scared enough to make a run for it."

Which one of these characters is granted an instant second chance? You'll never guess who!

And I do think the word "instant" is important here because just like Jaune and Yang have the right to have distance and justice from Emerald, they had that right with Ozpin too. The difference is they got it. They had the power in the situation, as evidenced by their use of the Lamp and physically attacking him. Ozpin heard what they needed from him — leave us alone — and did that without complaint. They were given months to come to terms with the secrets he kept. They were offered apologies and acts of service to demonstrate intent: saving them in the airship and continually saving Oscar. I don't believe Ozpin ever needed a redemption arc, but even if we think he did, he had it. After three volumes of material Oscar's perspective is still "I don't exactly trust [him] right now" but Hazel and Emerald have earned at least the same amount of trust in a matter of hours? They're really having my boy look at the guy who has tried desperately to do right by him despite unimaginable circumstances, and the guy who tortured him to get information for Salem, and went, "That first guy. He's the one we need to watch out for."

To make things even worse, Oscar tells the others that Ozpin took on all the torture so he wouldn't have to. So he did that and they still don't trust him? If you had told me back in Volume 6 that two years later the group would still be hostile towards Ozpin, while simultaneously urging one another to trust Emerald, I would have said you were lying. RWBY has its problems, but it's not that bad. Yet here we are. I suppose the one silver lining here is that Ren smiles when he realizes Ozpin is back? So at least one of them isn't prepared to draw their weapon at the mere mention of his name.

Both these moments raise more questions though. How in the world did Ozpin take on that torture when we clearly saw Oscar getting pummeled for a good portion of the kidnapping? Is that a weird merge thing the story hasn't bothered to explain? I wouldn't be surprised, considering Oscar said last episode he didn't want to use magic because it hastened the merge, he uses the biggest explosion of magic we've ever seen, and nothing has changed. Ozpin is still in the back of his head, thanking him for the tinniest shreds of decency they get. Ren, meanwhile, seems to be back to mindreading. How in the world does he know that Ozpin is back? I assume it has something to do with his semblance, but we don't know what. They could have shown us Oscar from Ren's perspective, perhaps with two distinct emotions swilling around to imply that he sees two different people now, not a useless shot of Emerald with purple flower petals, whatever purple means.

Oh, but no, we shouldn't have gotten either of these scenes. Remember that Ren's aura broke a very, very short time ago? Is it back already? Can he use this part of his semblance without it? Considering it was near impossible to see Ironwood's aura breaking in the Watts fight and we were then mistakenly told he used his semblance in the office, I'm going to go with, "The writers forgot."

Oscar explains that the cane had "lifetime after lifetime" of power in it and though there's still some left, "we have to be careful with how we use the rest." He says that Ozpin trusted his judgement and of course he did! Ozpin also didn’t know that there was a bomb on the way. Yet funnily enough, no one else mentions that, whoops, your choice made in ignorance was a waste and that's due entirely to us prioritizing hugs over basic mission information.

Also, all these explanations take place in front of Emerald. Half the group doesn't trust her, but they'll freely discuss their powers and limitations here. Remember how the group once wanted to talk about magical relics in front of the old lady they'd just met? Yeah, they've learned nothing.

Combine all this insanity with the fact that Ozpin's magic saved the day before Ironwood's bomb could do the same... while Ruby sat in a mansion drinking tea. Who's our hero again?

So things are a hot mess, to put it lightly. Their conversation finally ends when they hear voices and round the corner to find all the Atlas citizens huddled in the subway. For once the show actually writes them in a sympathetic manner, emphasizing how terrified and helpless they are. This image doesn't lead the group to any revelations though, certainly not anything that would tie back to Ren's earlier speech in the snow. No, once again the justified criticisms here are ignored as we hear that “However this fight ends, we could really use someone like you, [Emerald.]” That's it then. Discussion over. We knew as soon as it started that blindly trusting her was being presented as the "right" thing to do and now here we are, deciding that conclusively, despite Jaune and Yang's complaints. By the time the group reaches the mansion, Oscar is defending Emerald from Ruby. We're supposed to just accept that she's a part of the group now, only minimal pushback allowed.

Before that though we return to Ironwood getting news that their bomb never went off. He briefly wonders who else could have done that, but puts the currently unanswerable question aside for what he does know. They still have the bomb and it could be "useful." See, this moment — like shooting Oscar and the councilman — is when Ironwood just randomly goes off the deep end. One minute he's talking about what they've lost and cradling his new arm,

the next he's saying that he should have tortured Qrow to get Penny to obey him! Which doesn't even make sense since I'm pretty sure Penny hasn't ever spoken to Qrow. She wouldn't want anyone to suffer, true, but it's not like Ironwood had a close friend like Ruby to use as leverage. Qrow is just Some Guy to her. Regardless, he thinks Yang, Jaune, and Ren are decent replacements, despite Penny also having no relationships with them. This is what happens when your characters only start breaking up their teams eight years into the story, the response to Ironwood wanting to torture Ren to hurt Penny is, “Does Penny know Ren exists?” But, you know, torture is torture, right? Maybe. Probably not. I mean, if they're going to turn Ironwood into a cartoon villain, they could at least keep him smart.

Because all of this is just the height of stupidity. Ironwood wants to torture people Penny barely knows to make her listen (so just grab some civilians? It would do the same job...). Ironwood wants to shoot down empty ships, even though no one, including us, knows where in the world those ships would have gone. Ironwood wants to destroy an entire city to try and save another city. He wants to use a bomb meant for a comparatively small whale and acts like that alone will take out the majority of a kingdom. None of it makes sense! And I know the easy comeback for that is, "Well yeah, Ironwood is crazy and evil" but he's not. I mean he is. Threatening torture and bombings is obviously evil, but he's never been insane, or stupid. As said before, his arc (or lack thereof) is an absolute disaster. The fandom assumes so many things about Ironwood given the opportunity — the whale is a suicide mission. He expects the Ace Ops to die on his order — and the writing hints at so many things that never happen — he's going to hurt his subordinates, attack Winter for disobeying him — and every time what we actually get is a far more compassionate, level-headed character... until he randomly does a 180 and goes, "Let's murder a whole city now!" I never wanted Ironwood to be the bad guy, but they could have at least given me a persuasive decent into this level of horror.

So... yeah. Ironwood has got to die by the end of the volume, yeah? Between Ruby warning the whole world about him and him going into full villain mode, there's no coming back from this.

Neo sends her text to Cinder and the group makes it back to the mansion. Remember Yang's criticisms of Ruby's leadership? The ones she conveniently forgot about when Ren started to agree with her? Yeah, those are entirely gone as the sisters hug it out and, presumably, forgive one another for... daring to admit that things are bad? Look, I'm not going to deny that Ironwood's scene with Winter was creepy as fuck,

but I'm not of the opinion that the heroes are any better when it comes to the theme of obedience. They've attacked one another, screamed at one another, and any dissent from Ruby's leadership results in the questioner being left behind in the snow. We'll accept you again when you fall back in line. I used to adore the relationships in this show, but watching them now is just discomforting. The show might be 100% more obvious with Ironwood, using creepy music, a smile, and that hand on Winter's shoulder, but the concept of, "Sorry I dared to question you before! We won't ever do it again :)" isn't healthy either. The fact that the show keeps erasing theses problems with hugs — Weiss hugs Whitley now, Yang hugs Ruby, someone will probably hug Emerald soon — doesn't make the circumstances any less uncomfortable.

None of this even gets into the Blake and Yang hug. First of all, why is Blake acting like they had a fight and Yang might not want to see her? She's hiding inside rather than rushing to greet them, ears down in a devastated expression until Yang touches her. Combine this with Yang's "Do you think she's mad at me?" and it feels like the writers cut a fight in the final script and then didn't bother to remove the fallout from that. Seriously, where did any of this come from? You can't just have characters act like they've been fighting when they haven’t.

Also, can't forget this.

At this point there's nothing more I can say in regards to RWBY's almost-queer baiting. Is touching foreheads more intimate than the hugs Yang gave the others? Absolutely. Is that an appropriate stand-in for overt representation? Absolutely not. This would have been a perfect time for them to kiss. Take out Blake's nonsensical fear and replace it with them both reuniting after their first separation since Volume 5, working under the knowledge that either one could have been killed, finally admitting their feelings. Hell, they don't actually have to kiss. Not all girlfriends are interested in kissing! But they could use the terminology that makes things unequivocally canon. Another forehead touch when we got that in Volume 6? It's not enough, especially not when our straight couples have all been allowed their rep.

Ren at least wants to know where Nora is. He's presumably told what happened off screen as Oscar tells Ruby that Emerald is their friend now.

Then an emergency call from May interrupts the reunion and the group learns that Ironwood is bombing the Schnee ships. “Those ships… they were going to save people” Weiss whispers. How? Tell me how they were going to save anyone. Where were you going to take these people where they would be safer than where they are now? RWBY continually asserts things without explaining them, meaning there is precisely zero emotional weight here. Again, Ironwood is far past the point of defense, but I'd be a whole lot more critical of this particular action if I had a better sense of why it's bad. He appears to be endangering the people given May's shout to run — falling debris? — but the further implication is that Ironwood has doomed the people of Mantle by denying them these ships. It's that part that makes no sense based on what we've been told.

Which finally comes to the ultimatum of our episode title: Penny opens the vault, or Ironwood bombs Mantle. Great! So glad this plan is wicked smart and works well for his characterization. It's definitely not a nonsensical, unfounded, overblown change that feels like it belongs in a child's cartoon, complete with dramatic spotlight. Nope. Excellent writing choices all around.

Our final line of the episode is, “I hope you live up to the title I gave you," referring to Penny's job as the Protector of Mantle, and you know what? That line could have been very cool if it was delivered by an Ironwood with a persuasive fall and a halfway decent plan in place. I love that we've twisted the concept of a protector and turned the title into a horrifying, rather than honorable responsibility... I just hate everything surrounding those details.

So, usual RWBY fare.

(At least we get to see that Nora is awake!)

Will things get better over the next four episodes? I doubt it. We're still expecting the rest of the Ace Ops + Winter to ditch Ironwood, someone getting the vault open, the fall of Atlas, now the potential destruction of Mantle, and none of that includes Salem who should reform at any moment. Frankly, I'm not looking forward to any of it. The final leg of a season should make its audience excited to see how everything turns out, not dreading it. I've heard from multiple people that this is the volume that finally got them to drop the show and honestly? I'm not surprised.

As a final (happier?) note: we've finally got a bingo! I completely forgot our board last time, which was a terrible oversight, but we can update it now.

Our army of grimm can't kill anyone now that it got KOed by Oscar (that is the third one hit defeat of a major enemy we've seen this volume. Yes, I'm including the Hound considering it was obviously on its last legs after Ruby's eyes.)

I'm likewise including "Ozpin apologizes for everything including his existence" because he's done nothing but apologize since he came back. The emotion is there even if the literal words are not. Oscar reminded everyone of how untrustworthy he is, but kept the group from jumping them again. And Ozpin thanked him for it.

Neo didn't literally backstab Cinder (shame), but the Relic still counts.

So a triple bingo! Is that how bingo works? Idk, I've never played. I feel like I should have thought up some sort of humorous prize, but sadly I've got nothing. If you think of anything, let me know lol

That’s all then, folks. Until next week! 💜

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby ultimatum #rwby recaps #mymetas

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ravnicaforgoblins · 3 years

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Ravnica for Goblins

Alignment

Figuring out where on the spectrum of beliefs, morals, and neutrality your character falls can be a challenge. One individual’s Chaotic Good is another’s Lawful Evil. To help clarify things, most campaigns include alignment for significant NPCs, and one can often draw a line between that NPC and that alignment. This doesn’t apply to every NPC, but the more important someone is, the more they come to represent a specific section of the moral grid in a campaign.

Ravnica does this as well, with most of the alignment chart represented by a Guildmaster. This isn’t completely uniform, however, so there’s wiggle room for an NPC to lean one way or the other as fits the story. There are some pretty safe bets, however, who can be counted on to check certain boxes at all times.

Isperia of the Azorius Senate: Lawful Neutral

Isperia represents the goal of the Azorius; objective devotion to upholding the laws as they are written. She was elected to her position because of her ability to look passed right & wrong, instead focusing solely on interpreting Ravnica’s 10d6 of Psychic damage legal system for all disputes.

Lazav of House Dimir: Neutral Evil

Lazav is the Dimir at their most annoying but least murderous. Blatant disregard for everyone’s privacy, but preference for stealing, secrets, and information over assassination. Lazav infiltrates every Guild, including his own, always determined to stay several steps ahead of any potential threat. This is not to say he won’t kill people if necessary, but his is a cold, “bloodstained calculus” methodology. It’s never personal.

Rakdos of the Cult of Rakdos: Chaotic Evil

On this plane, Rakdos is the living embodiment of Chaotic Evil, a title he takes very seriously. It’s just about the only thing he takes seriously, as he prefers to live without rules and have everyone else do the same. Unrestrained hedonism and mayhem are his bread & butter. You do what you want, whatever you want, whenever you want, however you want, regardless of what anyone or anything else says. No restrictions, no inhibitions, no hesitation. Encouraging this kind of destructive chaos in the streets is the only thing keeping Rakdos from embracing more orthodox Chaotic Evil behavior of slaughtering millions, enslaving thousands, and bowing to no one.

The Obzedat of the Orzhov Syndicate: Lawful Evil

Hard to believe there can be something worse than an actual Demon given permission to encourage every sin imaginable, but that is what the Ghost Council are. The Obzedat exist to stretch, bend, and twist every law designed to maintain order, neutrality, or justice so as to benefit themselves. What’s worse is how the Orzhov play innocent when they do it. Unlike the Dimir or the Rakdos who accept and even embrace society’s interpretation of their actions, the Orzhov refuse to be seen as anything but humble, spiritual, gracious public servants. The very antithesis of what they actually are; arrogant, miserly, manipulative bastards. They will point out exactly which laws they are not breaking, which laws there is insufficient evidence to prove they are breaking, and which laws prevent you from punching them in the face right now.

Trostani of the Selesnya Conclave: Neutral Good

If there’s one thing to be said for Selesnya, it’s that they are rarely the problem. The Conclave is perfectly content to keep to their fields & forests most of the time and focus solely on building up their own Guild. In a city where every Guild has a problem with every other Guild, Selesnya is the only one who at least tries to get along with everyone else. They don’t tend to get involved in matters that don’t concern them, but theirs is always a safe haven for those who seek it. Trostani is made up of three dryads representing Harmony, Life, and Order. You don’t get much more Neutral Good than that. The only problem is that Trostani basically never leave their Guildhall, so their influence only spreads so far. The reason they can live so peacefully is because so little of the chaotic city life overlaps into theirs.

Besides them, everyone has wiggle room and gray area to move around in. Both Niv-Mizzet and Borborygmos are canonically Chaotic Neutral, but with their most prominent personality traits being vanity & anger, respectively, the “Neutral” part of that can go out the window quick. Still, almost every Guild has at least a semblance of a position somewhere on the chart to start from. You can basically count on a member of each Guild to be at least:

Azorius Senate: Lawful

This is the Guild that writes the laws of Ravnica, after all. They literally draw their power from this ancient legal code, so it makes sense that, whether an Azorius leans more towards Good, Evil, or Neutrality, they do so lawfully.

Boros Legion: Good

If the Azorius follow the intellectual letter of the law, the Boros follow the passionate spirit for which said law was originally written. Justice, not legal-ese. Sometimes the law is good enough, but sometimes it fails its citizens. A Boros should be an inspiring force for Good, whether Lawful or Chaotic depends on the individual.

House Dimir: Neutral

The best a Dimir operative can hope to achieve, morally speaking, is neutrality. If you are working for this Guild, you are lying & stealing. Odds are you are infiltrating another Guild to find/steal information to report back to your superior(s). Not every Dimir agent does this willingly, however. Maybe a character only became a Dimir operative after finding out their mentor was. Maybe a character had nowhere else to turn and no one else to depend on. Maybe they just needed House Dimir’s connections to get them close enough to someone in another Guild who wronged them. Whatever the motivation, cling to that gray area of neutrality like your life depends on it. It’s all you’ve got.

Gruul Clans: Chaotic

Gruul are many things. “Lawful” is not one of them. If you’re a member of a Gruul Clan, you’ve definitely got a bit of a temper on you and a strong disregard for authority. Now, a Gruul can absolutely be a force for good, or, conversely, evil. Maybe you joined the Gruul after your ancestral home was bulldozed over for a smelly Izzet facility. Maybe you had a mental breakdown after decades of trying to uphold law in a city where the laws mean jack shit unless there’s a guy in blue sitting at his desk. Maybe you got tired of planting trees and getting stepped on. Maybe you don’t like the pretentiousness of so-called “artists”. Maybe you just like hitting things. Whatever your reason, the Gruul will welcome another anarchist.

Golgari Swarm: Chaotic/Evil/Neutral

The Golgari Swarm are the first Guild where you’re really going to find a lot of diversity in alignment. Some definitely fall into the chasm of Chaotic Evil Necromancers, others stand firmly in the fields of True Neutral Rot Farmer, and some idly wander between the two. Necromancy is pretty normal in Golgari society, and “Evil” can be considered a harsh word to describe it. It’s definitely more normalized in the Undercity than it is on the surface. A lot of typically Evil behavior is like that for the Golgari, lest we forget that this society of giant bugs, necromancers, zombies, medusa, etc also run the sewage system and food stamps program for the city. That said, there are definitely Golgari with sufficient ambition/motivation to become ready-made Big Bads. What is a Lich, after all, but a wizard who says, “No, I’m too important to die!”

Izzet League: Chaotic

If there’s one predictable aspect of the Izzet, it’s that they are unpredictable. For a Guild whose founding principle is “I wonder what would happen if....”, it’s best to accept that you’ll never be Lawful. Your job, as it is, is to look at laws (nature, physics, etc) and poke at them with electrodes to see what happens. Your focus will always be on things that haven’t been written down yet, as opposed to what already has. It’s almost literally impossible to be Lawful and Izzet for that reason alone. As far as Good, Evil, and Neutral go; that’s up to the individual. This experiment could replicate food so we never have to eat Golgari rations again! Or it could replicate essential personnel to prevent understaffing! Or, it could even replicate.... ME (cue maniacal laughter).

Orzhov Syndicate: Lawful

The Orzhov, like the Azorius, draw their power and influence from the laws of Ravnica. Evil is expected, though not mandatory, but Lawful is a requirement. An Orzhov who doesn’t know their way around Ravnica’s laws is a loose end, and the Orzhov don’t allow loose ends to jeopardize their schemes & ambitions. One can absolutely be a Lawful Neutral Orzhov, also known as an Accountant, but such individuals rarely find their way into a life of adventure. A Lawful Good Orzhov can exist, but your greatest adversary will be the large majority of your Guild who sees you as a potential threat to their illicit activities. In which case, you’ll want to know those laws even better than they do.

Cult of Rakdos: Chaotic

Chaos is mandatory, evil is encouraged. By “Evil”, we mean “things people tell you are Evil”. Anything you would do while drunk you should be able to do at all times! There’s really only three rules in the Cult of Rakdos:

Rule #1, Rakdos is #1

Rule #2, JUST DO IT

Rule #3, Don’t be boring

Being Neutral breaks Rule 3, being Good breaks Rule 2 and/or 3, and being Lawful breaks all 3 rules. Which reminds me of the fourth rule:

Rule #4, NEVER break Rule #1

Truthfully, being Chaotic Good or Chaotic Neutral is perfectly fine as long as you don’t impede on someone else’s hedonism without a reason, or lack thereof. As long as you’re being free & crazy, that’s what really matters.

Selesnya Conclave: Good

As stated with Trostani, Selesnya is a pretty consistent force of Good, if nothing else. They don’t really do hate, you know? Life in the Conclave is pretty uniformly Good, so why make trouble? Why can’t everyone just be Good? In short; ‘cause they don’t wanna, none of your business, go hug a tree, and/or because fire is FUN. Lawful fits some individuals but can just get in the way for others. Neutral is pretty solid but some things must call you to act. Chaotic is if you really want to embrace being a Nature Warrior in a planet-sized cityscape. Selesnya is the Guild for goodie two-shoes, as if that’s a bad thing.

Simic Combine: Any

The Simic Combine is the one Guild that can honestly fall anywhere on the alignment chart. The Guild started out as Doctors, Naturalists, and preservers of life. Now it also operates large-scale bioengineering. You can have a Lawful Good Simic Paladin committed to preserving life and health, a True Neutral Simic Forcemage (Druid) dedicated to living a simple life bolstering plant growth, or a Chaotic Evil Simic Wizard who has decided on everyone’s behalf that flippers and gills are now mandatory. Just like science can be used for great Good, great Evil, or mundane routine, the Simic Combine can turn its experiments to any purpose, depending on the individual. And whereas the Izzet are firmly Chaotic, the Simic have the foresight to think ahead before they try an experiment. You can be anything you want in the Simic Combine, just plan it out.

#ravnica for goblins #ravnica #goblins #d&d #dnd #5e #alignment #roleplaying #dungeons and dragons #dungeons & dragons #good #evil #lawful #neutral #guilds

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kairoscelrosis · 3 years

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ST: Into Darkness

So I watched into darkness after a really long time, and for the first time after watching ST: WOK. And I liveblogged it.

*spoilers*

Jim's so disappointed that Enterprise got taken away from him. owo

Aahh Carol Marcus is British

Scotty has a moral compass (which I feel TOS Scotty does as well)

When Kirk learns that Spuhura are fighting, and then the lift opens and Spock's about to enter, he looks at both of them. It really gives me the vibes that he knows both his partners are angry at him 😂

Bones McCoy: a dictionary of metaphors

Yaayyy Sulu on the chairrrr

Whaaatttt???? Sulu references Mudd (Harry freaking Mudd) in the movieeee!!!!! (He says: Acting Captain Sulu to Shuttle Bay 2. Please have the trade ship we confiscated during the Mudd incident last month fueled and flight ready) !!!!!

"If you test me, you WILL fail."

The way Bones' expression changesss 😂

"Mr. Sulu, remind me to never piss you off."

"I am not the only one who is upset at you. The Captain is too." "No no no no don't drag me into this."

"She IS right" spirkkkkk

"Captain we will not fit" "We'll fit. WE'LL FITTT."

"I told you we'll fit." "I am not sure that qualifies." 🤣

Why do the Klingons look so different???

Why is Benedict's voice so deep? Like deeper than usual.

SPUHURA 🤢🤢🤢🤢

Tho i hate that a british dude played KHAN, you can't deny Benedict's Khan has charisma

Carol Marcus says "I am a friend of Christine Chapel's" like what??? JJ do you even know that Christine would never be engaged with Kirk in a romantic relationship??? That he's not her type??? 🤢

"Any idea what caused it?" "No sir. But I expect full responsibility." Aww my baby chekov 🥺

"Jim? You're gonna wanna see this." Ooohhhhhh

Okay... so wasn't this Khan a dictator as well? Or like, did the Eugenics war never happen in AOS? Did JJ do this so that Khan would be morally grey? Cuz he loves Benedict? IDK

"I'm sorry." Ohh Kirk my bby 🥺🥺

SCOTTYYYYYY HELL YEAHHH YOU ARE A MIRACLE WORKER *cries in jimmy doohan*

"Captain, I strongly object." "To what? I haven't said anything yet." Bitch you really think he doesn't sense your crazy ideas?

"'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'" "An Arabic proverb attributed to a pronce who was betryed and decapitated by his own subjects." 🤣🤣

Grab at the shoulder and "I cannot allow you to do this." and an almost "Jim"

"The Enterprise and her crew need someone in that chair that knows what he's doing... and that's not me." You can hear my heart shattering into a million pieces in the background.

How Jim's about to cry during that dialogue 🥺🥺🥺

Is there like... a competition going on between Pine and Benedict Cumberbatch trying to decide who's eyes are bluer???? Because I can't see anybody winning

"Captain. You can't even guarantee the safety of your own crew." Ooohh I so wanna punch you in the face. 👊

Aaaahhhhh TRIBBLLEEEEEEE

New Vulcaaaannn!!!! Our Spock's coming baaaackkkkkk yaaayyy

Aahh Sulu you are so talented

"This door is very wee. I mean, you know, small" 🤣

"It's gonna be like jumping out of a moving car, off a bridge, into your shot glass." "It's okay. I've done it before" Khan: 👀

"It's not easy. Just give me two seconds, all right, you mad bastard!" 😂😂

Bones, sitting down to watch the most scary movie of his life: Tell me this is gonna work.

Spock, shivering with fear in his seat: I have neither the information nor the confidence to do so, Doctor. 😂😂😂😂

Bones: 👀 👀 Boy, you're a real comfort.

Omg Sulu's so nervous and worried 🥺

I actually kinda DO like the transitions.

"You're big." 😂

"Spock, if I get back, we really need to talk about you bedside manner." Why is everyone so pbsessed with bedside manner in Star Trek😂😂

Scotty 😂😂😂 wheezing and panting, complaining he can't do it but he does 😂😂😂

Shitt the momentum!!! How would they have filmed that??? Rolling and rolling and rolling

LEONARDDD NIMOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY YAAYYYYYYYYYYYYY

"Mr. Spock." "Mister Spock." Aaahhhhhhhhhh you both wanna kill meeeee 😂😂😂

He deserved that slap!!! GO CAROLL!!!!

"Where'd ya find this guy?" Ohh Scotty 😂

Spock!Prime really be like, "I can't tell you about it, but I am my own master, so I will. 😂

"Khan Noonien Singh is the most dangerous adversary the Ebeterprise ever faced. He is brilliant, ruthless, and he will not hesitate to kill every single one of you." *cries in Ricardo Montalban*

"Did you defeat him?" "At great cost. Yes." Aaaaahhhhhhh how would you know the great costt spocckkkkk😭😭

The sudden appearance of the man scared the shit outta mee😂😂

"Where's Khan?" AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH JIM SOMETIMES YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO SPOOCCKKKK

Yaayyyy "Damn it, man, I'm a doctor not a torpedo technician!" 😂😂

"This way." Whewww.

Aaahh he's awakeeeee.

Yesss that's my Jim Kirk. No killing. Yes.

Aahhhhhhhhh. Wtf why're you punching Jimmmmm

Aahh Carolll ahahhh

Omg wtfffffffff nooooooooo frickfrickfrickfrickfrickk that was baaaddd

"Oh, you are smart, Mr. Spock." I really do wanna punch you in the face.

I will repeat myself. Having said that a white dude playing Khan is irritating, Benedict really does play him well.

Aahhh the ploy is same like the one in ST: WOK!! This time, it is Spock playing the game!!!

"Vulcans do not lie." Spock lies.

"No ship shoild go down without her captain." *silent screaming*

OMG he's firinggggg

"He armed the damn torpedoes." Is that pride I hear, Kirk

"Not bad, Commander." "Thank you, Lieutenant." XDDDD

Smarty pants Spock XD

WTF is Uhura doing in the Med Bay???

"Good to see you, Jim."

"Spock's cold, but he's not that cold. I've got Khan's crew." Awww :))))

"Seventy two human popsicles, safe and sound in their cryo tubes" POPSICLES😂😂😂😂

"Son of a bitch!"

"I hope you don't get seasick." 😂

"I will remain behind and divert all power to life supprt and evacuation shuttle bays." 🥺🥺

Sulu: Shut up, BITCH.

"I order you to abandon this ship!" The voice his voice cracks 😭 Who says Spock doesn't feel????

"All due respect, Commander, but we're not going anywhere." YEAAHHHH SULUUUUU GOOOO

"One day I've been off this ship! One bloody day!" Same, Scotty, same.

Hah. Running on walls😂

CHEKOV MY HEROOOOOO

Smart baby Chekov exclaiming in Russian.

"The ship's dead sir. She's gone." 😭😭😭

"You're not making the climb" JIM NOOOOO OH GOD YOU SELF SACRIFICING IDIOT.

Jim coming back to belt Scotty into place 🥺

How's he gonna do that????

Aaahh that oit of the clouds shot justttt 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

Sulu's so HAPPYYY uwu

"It's a miracle." "There are no such things." Wait till you get to know Spock.

"Sir, you'd better get down here. Better hurry." *traumatic WOK flashbacks*

"How's OUR ship?" "Out of danger."

"That's a nice move." Is Jim referring to Chess????? You really have the nerve to do that???

"It is what you would have done." "And this, this is what you would have done." *TOS 😭😭😭😭*

"It was only logical."

"I'm scared, Spock. Help me not be."😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"I do not know. Right now I am failing." 😭😭😭

"Because you are my friend."😭😭😭

That Vulcan kisssssss 😭😭😭😭😭

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO JIMMMM

KHAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Why tf is everyone wearing those weird goggles???

I don't like Zoe Saldana as Uhura AT ALL.

The way Zach's bangs are flying😂

BONEESSSSSS 😭😭😭

Yeaah yeah yeah yeah yeah that tribbleeee

How tf did spock jump that high???

Why doesn't he like nerve pinch him???

Why can't they use the blood of the man in the cryo???? They have the same blood right???

"You get that son of a bitch back on board right now!"

Ohnonononono he's tryna crush Spock's skull.

Shit Spock why so angry NOOOOOO

Yeah Spock stops when he hears the name 'Kirk'.

"You were barely dead." 😂

"Tell me, are you feeling homicidal? Pwer mad? Despotic?"

"Uhura and I had something to do with it too, you know." Ohh bones😆😆

Spock called Kirk JIMMMMMMMMMMM

But, like, why didn't they kill Khan off??? He can be awakened again, can't he??? Like????

I love their formal uniforms!!!

Yaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy my introooooo 🥺🥺🥺🥺

"C'mon Bones, it's gonna be fun."

"Five years in space. God help me." 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

The fond look Spock has on his faceeeee

And on Jim's face toooooo

"I defer to your good judgement, Captain." 🥺🥺🥺

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st-just · 3 years

Text

Semi-coherent thoughts on Oathbringer

So, overall probably the most even of the series so far, I’d say? Not to say I didn’t like it – I really, really loved the finale, and there were plenty of great lines, but my god were there a lot of pages spent on nothing happening (honestly it kind of reminded me of the latter volumes of ASOIF, in that sense) – then again, I suppose that is kind of just the nature of these 1000+ page fantasy epics. There were some setting reveals that really were fascinating, and legitimately a bit surprising. Going to have to take a break from the series until the friend I got Rhythm of War for is done so I can borrow it, though I suppose that’s no huge loss compared to the however many years everyone else had to wait in between them.

So in terms of pacing it’s...bad. Or, well, that’s probably a bit unfair. There’s absolutely plenty of fat to cute, but again I do think that might just come with the territory of committing to like a dozen POVs across a tree’s worth of paper (though there were absolutely like 100+ page stretches where I’m not actually sure the plot meaningfully progressed). That said, honestly the main pacing issue isn’t so much the bloat as, like – okay, Dalinar’s arc was a pretty consistent throughline, but for Kalidan and Shallan it kind of felt like there was one whole story in Urithiru, and then from the mission to Kholinar and the journey through the Cognitive Realm felt like its own separate novel? I mean, not sure if that makes any sense, but it really did kind of feel like there was a whole additional first act of table and stakes setting once they arrived in the city.

Though, to argue in favor of bloat for a moment – I was chatting with @lifeattomsdiner bit back about The City We Became, and they mentioned that the size of the cast meant that you don’t actually really get to know any of the protagonists that well on their own. And I suppose that is the advantage of the 1200-page-per-volume epic cycle – even with characters you only really meet in interludes like Szeth, Vargo and Venli (incidentally three of my favorites), you spend enough pages inside of their head that you do really get to see what makes them tick and learn to love/hate them. Speaking of – props to Sanderson as an author, really – it’s vaguely astounding that he manages to keep track of that many internal monologues and actually make them seem distinct from each other.

Breaking things down by character a bit more – this book really did actually enjoy/get invested in Dalinar way more than either of the previous two, which again I’m told is more or less the expected reaction. Given the amount of tumblr brain poison I’m voluntarily exposed myself to, it’s honestly more than a bit of a nice change to see a character on a redemption arc who is actually unambiguously in need of redemption. Because holy shit, pulled, like, exactly two punches in terms of making the guy as genuinely loathsome as possible before he starts breaking. And, well, obviously he was on a redemption arc, but there was a bit near the end there where I really did think that the book was going to cut to black on an ‘end of Act 2, maximum darkness before dawn’ moment with, like, all the Skybreakers and him kneeling before Odium as the city fell. But I suppose that would be a bit much of a cliffhanger for a series with installments this weighty.

This was pretty clearly Shallan’s ‘getting over my personal bullshit’ book, like WoR was for Kaladin and WoK was for Dalinar, though spicing things up with increasingly severe DID as the book went on did make things more interesting at least. Also, I have no idea if this is actually true, but according to the friend who pestered me into reading these when someone asked Sanderson if he’d intentionally written her as bi he just kind of shrugged and said ‘sure, why not,’ which is fun. It was more than a bit, I don’t know, forced?, to have Wit just wander in from stage left and give her a desperately needed therapy session while she was in the middle of a breakdown and propel her development for most of the rest of the book, but on the other hand she’s pretty easily the main POV I’m most invested in by now, and the live triangle the text repeatedly threatened me with never actually became a thing, so I can’t really complain too much. Honestly super curious about the Ghostbloods and what they want out of her given, well, for a shadowy murderous conspiracy, everything they’ve wanted out of her so far has been pretty much entirely benign. Like, of the three major shadowy murderous conspiracies they’re easily the least problematic for the future of humanity at the moment. She should just commit and join for real imo.

As always, Kaladin’s POV is mostly good because it means we get more Syl, who is the single best character in the entire story I’ve decided. But also, I really quite liked his whole sojourn with the newly freed Parshmen and dawning realization that ‘wait these people are basically entirely right’. Also, the delicious delicious angst of spending however many dozens of pages getting to know them and then the wall guard and then the two groups killing each other in a confused melee while he has a mental breakdown. Easily best moment in the book (but then I’m a miserable person).

Adolin is honestly significantly more entertaining to follow than I really expected, though I’m still not like especially invested in him as a character. His relationship with his tailor was quite charming, though, as was the fact that he cares enough about fashion that he learned to sew. Honestly I was rather expecting/slightly dreading his main arc this book to be, like, inadequacy or insecurity over being almost literally the only member of his family that’s not a Radiant, so it’s kind of a pleasant surprise that he seems to have just accepted that (too well-adjust, I guess?). It is however extremely funny that the fact he just straight-up murdered one of the kingdom’s most important aristocrats and the major antagonist of the first two books seems to have resulted in absolutely zero consequences of any kind for him.

In terms of minor characters, the one I’m most invested in by a pretty substantial margin at this point is Venli, as she’s getting a front row seat to all the most interesting bits of the setting, ‘cultist growing increasingly disillusioned about return of ancient and terrible eldritch god’ is a really entertaining character arc just in principle, and because as of the end of the book she represents the morally objectively correct perspective and political line I’ve decided and will fight people about. Curious what sort of superpowers she’ll get. (Vargo and Szeth are still both great though, too).

The Unmade are really fun as a worldbuilding conceit/excuse for weird fucked up monsters. And it really is kind of funny that at least a third of the God of Evil’s nine generals/children/favoured beasts are, like, at conflicted or ambivalent about the whole ‘exterminate humanity and remake the world as a monument to my glory’ thing.

Really, on an extremely shallow and entirely aesthetic level, between the evil red crystal/lightning aesthetic, the remote mountain fortress as a stronghold of the heroes in the face of the coming apocalypse, tears into the realm of spirits, the quirky evil minibosses each handling corrupting/conquering a given center of civilization, etc, the whole thing kind of reminded me of Dragon Age Inquisition. Which reminded me of how disappointing the story to that game was, which made me like the book more by comparison, but anyway. Yeah, good book.

#books #oathbringer #stormlight archive #cosmere #brandon sanderson #in this essay I will #book review

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lupinlongbottom · 4 years

Text

Jacaranda pt. 2

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: The next two years at Hogwarts were to be the best in (Y/N)’s life; A happy relationship, friends she could almost call her siblings and subjects she was passionate about. But, Draco Malfoy had other plans for the two, a true test of their faith and trust.

Prompt: Your Draco Malfoy imagine was sooo good! I thought it was so well written and such a nice relationship! It got me thinking about what do you think would happen to them during their 6/7th year? Like I'd assume even though they'd be on opposite sides of the war, she would understand why Draco does what he does... - Anon

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: a bit of swearing, mention of blood

A/N: I just felt like their story needed more, you know? idk. felt inspired and wanted to write for Draco again! I really enjoy writing conflict. Wild.

Part 1

The train was solemn, quiet, almost. Normally, (Y/N) found herself enjoying the laughter of the students around her, finding solace in the few friends she had acquired over the years. This year, however, (Y/N) sat next to Draco, quietly holding his hand as the train barreled towards Hogwarts. He hadn’t been the same since his father was thrown in to Azkaban, for good reason, (Y/N) thought. Draco idolized his father, tried to prove himself worthy to the man any chance he could.

The past summer was the first she had spent without Draco, without the laughter and sunshine he brought into her already bleak life. She found her afternoons lackluster, trying to read her textbooks underneath the glow of the blue tree, trying to bring herself to think of anything but him. Though they had confessed their truest feelings, the entirety of their relationship was thrown to the back burner as Draco claimed he had ‘more important things’ to attend to that summer.

(Y/N) knew she shouldn’t take it seriously, that losing his father was taking a toll on him. He neglected to send back owls, only finding it in himself to respond curtly, in short sentences when he did. Once, she received a letter with only two words; ‘trust me’. (Y/N) tried, tried terribly hard to believe him, to trust that Draco was alright. Even when the Malfoy’s were invited to the (L/N) Estate for lunch, Narcissa was the only one to show. To say that she was angry would be the smallest of understatements.

Still, she persisted to be a good friend, to comfort him in any way she knew how. She didn’t need to yell at Draco, as badly as she knew he deserved to hear her vile words, the one’s she had crafted over the summer, she held her tongue, quietly listening to the chatter around her.

“When do you suppose we’ll arrive to Hogwarts?” Pansy Parkinson asked, seated directly across the table from the couple, her eyes digging directly into (Y/N)’s profile.

“Roughly the same time as always, Parkinson,” Draco spat, his fingers tapping rapidly against the tabletop. Almost frantic. “Hogwarts,” he laughed. “What a pathetic excuse for a school.”

“Draco,” (Y/N) mumbled, squeezing his hand for just a moment. She noted the way his features softened, briefly, his eyes looking warmer for the second he relaxed. “Are you alright?”

“Never been better, (Y/N),” Draco said, uninterested. “Just can’t wait to get back to classes, to learning about stupid spells and stupid plants—”

“Draco,” (Y/N) said, repeating his name.

“What?” He spat, turning directly towards (Y/N), now facing her head on. He stared at her for a minute, his brows furrowed tightly together. “What is it?”

“N-nothing,” (Y/N) said, pulling her hand away, her face hardened. “I think-I think I’ll leave you be,” she stood up. “Slughorn invited me to his carriage earlier, I’m going to take him up on his offer, I think,” (Y/N) said, turning her back to Draco. “I’ll…” she paused, her eyes flicking over the darkened boy, wondering where the light in him went. “I’ll see you.”

(Y/N) didn’t see much of Draco, practically at all. After confronting him about Potter’s broken and bloodied nose, Draco practically avoided (Y/N) every chance he got for a week after the fact, dodging her in the halls, once jumping over the couch in their common room to get past her. She had no idea where he was off to, where his mind was at. (Y/N) was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Despite her morals getting the better of her, (Y/N) decided the only way to confront Draco was to follow him. He hadn’t been showing up to classes, even when he did, his mind was elsewhere, face bleak and empty. She found, that he clung to Crabbe and Goyle more than normal, having them follow him like bodyguards, unlike his usual gaggle of lackeys. It wasn’t until she followed him to the seventh floor, past the ghastly tapestry that she knew where he was going.

The Room of Requirement. (Y/N) was aware of the room, having trained in Dumbledore’s Army for much time in her last year, hiding from the scrutiny and force of Dolores Umbridge. What on earth could Draco have a need for that the room could provide? A place to reflect? To mourn?

She took a deep breath, pacing in front of the bare wall. Three times, she reminded herself. Three times she needed to walk past the wall, to really have the room understand what she required. After her third circle, a door grew, appearing from the marbling of the walls. Hesitantly, she opened it, finding herself surrounded by various objects, ranging in size and shape. A loud clatter could be heard farther in the room.

“Draco?” (Y/N) asked, walking towards the noise. Funneling past bookshelves, layers of dust coating a few. The rustling stopped, leaving (Y/N) hopelessly lost, until, however, she found the tip of a wand pressing against the flesh of her cheek.

“(Y/N)?” Draco said, relaxing his arm, his hand hovering in front of her face.

“Will you put your wand away?” (Y/N) said, pushing the stick away from her, down to Draco’s side. “Godric, sometimes you just get so trigger-happy.”

“How did you find me?” Draco asked again, his fist curling tightly around the base of his wand. “You should be in Potions class right now, surely you didn’t—”

“Skip?” (Y/N) laughed. “That’s a laugh, coming from you.”

“Why did you, then? Follow me?”

“Because I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Draco,” (Y/N) said plainly, shrugging her shoulders lightly. “I’ve figured the only way to get you to talk to me is to find out where you’ve been going. I also figured that of all the teachers to be lax about me skipping would be Slughorn, considering…”

“Considering the stupid involvement you have in his ‘Slug Club’?” Draco spat, only mildly annoyed.

“Hey, it’s a stupid club but it’s my stupid club,” (Y/N) retorted, crossing her arms. “He’s dull, but I find it comforting to be wanted somewhere for once, Draco,” she clicked. “Somewhere where I can be noted for my accomplishments. Not that you’d care enough about it.”

“(Y/N), did you really come here just to yell at me?” Draco asked, putting his wand in the back pocket of his trousers, now completely at ease with her presence. His eyes flicked around to the various objects beside (Y/N), never directly looking at her. “I’m not in the mood to fight, quite exhausted, really.”

“You look it,” (Y/N) said, noting the dark circles under Draco’s eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks,” her hand rose to his jaw, thumb tracing underneath the growing bags hanging under his eyes, puffy and irritated.

“Always the detective,” Draco said, pushing her hand away gently. “Of course I haven’t been sleeping, my father was thrown into Azkaban. The Malfoy’s are the laughing stock of The Prophet, the butt of everyone’s jokes,” he spat, running a hand through his unruly hair, (Y/N) noted how it wasn’t styled like it normally was. “I’ve been… busy, taking over the position as the head of the Malfoy family.”

“Draco, you don’t mean—”

“Are you really all that surprised?” Draco asked, staring (Y/N) directly in her eyes. “Since my father was caught, the Dark Lord needed someone to take his place—to finish the task that he was supposed to fulfill, to have me prove my place—”

“Your arm,” (Y/N) said, holding her hand out. “Show me. Now, Draco.”

“Do you really need proof?” He chided, cocking his head to the side. “Do you really need to hurt yourself over it?”

“Yes,” she said, offering her hand again, preparing herself to forcibly pull his jumper off of him. “I need to see it, Draco. I don’t believe you, I don’t believe that you’d actually—”

It was then, in the filtering light from the lamp above that (Y/N) saw it, the mark. Draco had ripped his sleeve upward, shining the black branding at (Y/N), the snake wriggling ever so slightly. She looked up at Draco’s face, noting the pain etched into his features. Fear, loathing, disappointment.

“Go on,” Draco said, thrusting his forearm closer to (Y/N). “Get a better look! Take it all in, (Y/N)! Is this the proof you wanted? Is this what you really wanted to see? Does it make you feel better?”

“Of course it doesn’t!” (Y/N) screamed, throwing her hands into fists, tightly holding them to her sides. “In no universe could this make me feel better, Draco! Godric, here I thought you’d be strong enough to ignore him, wise enough to get out of this mess before it swallowed you whole!”

“You think too highly of me.”

“I do because I love you, Draco!” (Y/N) spat, punching his chest, pushing him back a few steps. “Damnit,” she stumbled, rising her hand again, ready to strike. “You… you git!”

Draco grabbed her wrist, stopping the incoming blow. “Love?” he clicked, throwing her hand to the side. “Please. You could never really love me, love the things that I’ve had to do.”

“You’re shitting me,” (Y/N) said, feeling the tears stinging in her eyes, threatening to fall. “You’ve got to be shitting me, Draco. What? Are we going to ignore everything that happened to us? Our entire lives? The last year?”

“I can,” Draco clicked, his face stony. “You should too. Forget about me, run off with your pathetic do-good friends, it’ll pay off in the long-run, maybe you’ll be safe.”

“So that’s what this is? You’re trying to push me away,” (Y/N) said, taking a few steps back, her shoe hitting the foot of a chair. “You’re pathetic, Draco Malfoy.”

“I’m doing it because I care about you—”

“If you really cared, you’d stop,” (Y/N) said plainly. “I know that you’ve—you’ve got to do this,” she shook her head, almost unwillingly. “I know that’s what he wants you to think.”

“You could join,” Draco said, pulling on her jumper sleeve, hanging onto the threads with every ounce of will he could. “But,” his arm went slack. “I know that’s not—not what’s best for you. I’m trying, (Y/N),” his voice grew smaller. “I’m just trying to save my family. I have to do this, to ensure that he won’t lay a finger on anyone I care about, you included.”

“I doubt I’m at the top of his list,” (Y/N) scoffed, pulling her arm away.

“Really?” Draco laughed pitifully. “You don’t think so? (Y/N) (L/N), daughter and Heiress of the esteemed (L/N) family, famously standing to the side of the war, blending into the grey of the matter, taking neither side,” he held up his fingers, counting off. “Friends with Harry Potter, the number one enemy to the Dark Lord,” he pushed the pad of his finger back, making a point. “Girlfriend of Draco Malfoy, the son of his most recent oversight!”

“‘Girlfriend’? So now we’re using that word?” (Y/N) said, her tone growing sour. “Funny, people don’t usually treat their girlfriends this way, do they?”

“What else do you want me to do, (Y/N)?” Draco laughed again, the sound almost painful. “I’ve been trying everything, anything, to get you to stop following me,” he sighed, pausing for a moment. “You don’t believe in him, the Dark Lord.”

“Of course I don’t, I never have—”

“Then leave,” Draco said simply. “Leave before it gets real, (Y/N). Forget about me, ignore the things I have to do. Run, far away from all of this.”

“You really think that, don’t you?” (Y/N) shook her head, fighting the tears. “You want me to believe that you’re the monster, right? Right?!” Her words echoed against the various objects surrounding them, somehow floating in the air. Draco stood silent. “Fine then. Be happy. You’re the monster you’ve always feared.”

(Y/N) turned around, afraid she might cry, sob openly in front of the person she least wanted the pleasure of seeing it. A few quick skips and almost tripping over a large black cabinet, (Y/N) exited into the empty corridor. She knew that Draco had no choice, knew deep down that he was doing what he thought was right. She just wished that she was a part of that plan.

She didn’t speak to Draco for the rest of the year, unless it was purely in an academic setting. As badly as (Y/N) wanted to curse him into oblivion, she knew that this fight, the war that was directly under their noses, was the rift that inevitably was to tear them apart. She threw herself into her studies, gaining high marks in each of her classes, learning each and every curse and hex she could muster. If there was to be a war, a big one at that, she had to prepare herself.

(Y/N) had heard of the cursed locket, the poisoned mead. Harry tried to convince his peers, his friends, that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater and her intended on killing Dumbledore. (Y/N) didn’t need much convincing, but she hardly gave Harry the satisfaction of being right. She never shared Draco’s secret, his mark, intending to take it to her grave. A last bit of thanks she owed the boy. The last bit she would owe him, ever.

When she heard of what Harry had done to Draco, (Y/N) couldn’t even bring herself to cry, to feel remorse. She knew it was terrible, what had happened, she knew she should’ve visited him in the Hospital Wing, hold his hand. But, she also knew it was against everything Draco wanted. He didn’t deserve the pleasure of seeing her, being comforted by her. After everything he said, what he said he wanted from her, she couldn’t bring herself to bother caring.

“There might be a fight,” Harry spoke honestly, pulling (Y/N) out of her mental tangent. “Death Eaters, in the school,” he swallowed thickly. “We need all the man-power we can get, if need be.”

“We’ve got your back, Harry,” Neville said, proudly. “Dumbledore’s Army, forever.”

“We can help,” Luna agreed, nodding her head.

(Y/N) sat for a moment, feeling a sense of pride well in her chest. The group of stragglers stared at the Slytherin, eyes flicking over her profile. She knew she had to answer, knew she finally had to pick a side. No longer will she be pushed to the sidelines, ignoring this impending war, much like her cowardice parents did once before. She finally stepped out of both ponds, picking a side.

“I’m in,” (Y/N) said, face hardened. “You can count on me.”

She stood with Harry.

Her seventh year was nothing like she had ever imagined it to be. The war was looming around them, Voldemort had taken over the Ministry, appointing Severus Snape to be Headmaster of the school. (Y/N) had deliberated on wether or not to even return to the wizarding school, if at all. Many of her classmates had made similar choices.

The atmosphere in the Slytherin House was a dark one, the majority of the house overjoyed with how the school was being run, how the war was turning out. Many of the students had Death Eater family members, or just supported Voldemort in the war anyway, leaving little worrying in the dungeons.

(Y/N) had never felt more alone. Her closest friends hadn’t shown up to school for that year, not sharing any insight on to their whereabouts or plans. She knew, however, that it was imperative that they kept the casualties to a minimum, knew that their lack of sharing was their way of keeping her and their other friends safe. Regardless, (Y/N) felt the people she had grown closest to were farther away than ever.

She had, however, toyed with the notion of talking to Draco. He, much to everyone’s surprise, showed up for the following school year. Many thought that he’d go and fully join Voldemort and his goons, but, nonetheless, there he sat, staring at the fireplace in the common room. He looked broken, eyes empty. Maybe she should entertain the idea some more.

“(Y/N),” he called from the couch, eyes not leaving the fireplace. He had caught her before she rose to her dormitory. Guess the time was now.

“Yes?” (Y/N) replied, turning to the blonde. She made sure to keep her voice level, composure even. “What do you want?”

“We should… talk,” Draco said, tapping his fingers rhythmically onto the arm of the dark green couch. “I haven’t—we haven’t spoken…”

“Funny,” (Y/N) spat. “I wonder why that is,” she began to turn back, only to hear a deep sigh come from Draco. “Alright, fine,” she moved over to the couch, standing squarely in front of the boy, crossing her arms. “Talk.”

“Wouldn’t you rather take a seat?”

“No.”

“Alright.”

Draco stared at his shoes, all black and polished. He didn’t quite know what to say, or how to say it. How could he? Surely he had broken her heart, if any of the pain was as mutual for their split in the last year was nearly as close to his. The large clock that hung in the center of the wall, off to the right of the fireplace ticked slowly, menacingly at the two.

“Well?” (Y/N) tapped her foot, the sound almost akin to a soft slap. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, fearing it was all he could say. “Sorry for everything—”

“Are you?” She cut him off, leaning towards the blonde. “Are you really all that sorry? You don’t seem sorry, you seem sorry for the guilt you’ve caused for yourself.”

“I heard… about your parents—”

“Yeah? I’m sure you have, seen them at a few meetings, have you?” (Y/N) chuckled airily, loosening her arms for just a moment. “They’ve finally picked a side, good on them, right? I’m sure the Dark Lord is pleased to have the elusive and cowardice (L/N)’s on his side finally, yeah? Another pure-blooded family to add to the army?”

“(Y/N)…”

“No,” (Y/N) said, holding a finger. “You wanted to talk, so I’m going to talk,” she spat, making a point. “If you think for even a second that I’m going to follow suit with my parents, you’d be dead wrong.”

“Of course I don’t think you’re going to join,” Draco scoffed, finally growing annoyed. “You’d think your years of trailing behind Potter and his Gryffindor goons would’ve given me any other reason to believe that?”

“You still aren’t getting it, are you?” (Y/N) clicked, her arms now comfortably resting at her sides. “This isn’t about Potter anymore, Draco! This is a matter of war,” she let out a sigh, feeling the dark pit in her stomach burble.

“Yeah? Seems to me it’s still pretty much about Potter, isn’t it?”

“Merlin’s beard, will you stop talking about Potter for once?” (Y/N) said, finally releasing the words she’d pent up for years, always hidden on the back burner. “People are dying, Draco. Innocent people, with families and children. People are dying because of Voldemort’s sick and twisted narrative on what society should be, what our world should look like. But yeah, go off about Potter again.”

“Godric, (Y/N), you infuriate the shit out of me sometimes,” Draco said, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think that I’m more than capable to understand what he’s doing?”

“You’re more than capable,” (Y/N) said, nodding lightly. “I just don’t understand why you’re still fighting on the wrong side—”

“Here we go with the ‘wrong side’ nonsense,” Draco rose to his feet, squarely standing in front of (Y/N). “Do you know why I even bothered to show up to school this year? Why I’m not out there with him?”

“It’s compulsory, mandatory for students to show up this year, if not—”

“It’s because I have a better chance of staying alive in these walls than out there,” Draco raised a finger, pointing to the outside world beyond the windows. “Even with my father now out of Azkaban, our family is still vying for his approval, still under scrutiny of what my father did.”

“Bully for you,” (Y/N) said cooly. “I’m sure your involvement with Dumbledore’s assassination sufficed enough, yeah?”

“You know about that?” Draco asked, pausing for a moment, taking a step back.

“I’m not a fucking idiot, Draco,” (Y/N) laughed, picking at her nails for just a moment, trying to ignore how badly she wanted to slap him. “Harry had his suspicions all last year. My parents just couldn’t stop talking about it after their first real meeting. They never really cared for Dumbledore, they were just dying to share the news when I got back that summer.”

“I’m not the one who—”

“Do you think that it even matters? To me, anyway?”

“I guess not.”

“Say all you want about Hogwarts and how ‘poorly’ it was run before, but if you try to look me in the eyes and tell me that this Hogwarts, the one where we’re forced to use the fucking Cruciatus curse on anyone, try to tell me that this Hogwarts is what’s right in the world?” (Y/N) spat, barely taking another breath between her words. “I’m one of the lucky few, the Carrows don’t pay much attention to me unless I speak up—”

“Which you do—”

“Of course I do!” (Y/N) finally shouted. “I’m not going to stand around and watch children, literal children, get hexed and cursed and beaten because they won’t follow their ruling! Haven’t you noticed that I’m sporting this look of late?” She ran her finger to her cheek, a swollen and violently red bump met her touch. “Got that one for standing up for Neville, for doing what he’s doing.”

“Longbottom? Serves you right, anyone deserves to be beaten for standing up for that numpty,” Draco clicked, crossing his arms, receding back to the cushions of the couch. “Him, Weasley and Lovegood have been vandalizing the walls with their rubbish, speaking out too often, getting in the way of the Carrows.”

“Don’t you reckon I’m helping them?”

“It’s crossed my mind,” Draco admitted. “Yes.”

“Then why do you sound surprised? Why are you ever shocked with my choices? You’ve known that I’ve made these choices in the past, yet every time I go against what you’d want me to do, you look like the world has ended,” (Y/N) said, her voice cooling down. “We’ve had similar starts in life, yeah, but where we are now,” she pointed a finger between the two, pushing it back and forth. “Is a direct correlation of character, Draco Malfoy. A testament to our true nature.”

“Funny,” Draco clicked his tongue. “You never thought that this life,” he pulled up his sleeve, the Dark Mark shining brighting against his pale skin. “That these choices defined me all those years ago, what changed? Was it this mark? Or was it the brainwashing of the others around you?”

“Shove off, Malfoy,” (Y/N) groaned, throwing a hand to her hair. “Of course it was the mark! In years past it was easy to throw your name-calling and bullying under the rug, I hoped you would grow out of it…” She paused for a moment, hearing the loud clicks of the seconds passing by. “I still think you can,” (Y/N) said, a bit lower than before. “And I think you know that, too.”

“Doubtful.”

“There’s conflict in you,” (Y/N) said, lowering her hand. “You would’ve gone through with killing Dumbledore yourself if there wasn’t. I urge you to be better, trust yourself, not the words of the people around you. Listen to what Draco really has to say.”

(Y/N) exited the room, the weight of her words weighing heavily on Draco’s shoulders.

The air was somber, thick with sorrow and relief. The war had ended. Voldemort was dead. Friends and family were dead. The celebration in the Great Hall was of a temperate energy. While most were elated for the war to finally be over, many were still in mourning of the ones they had lost.

(Y/N), now covered in soot and blood, made her way through the hall. Her parents had fled the scene, not wanting to take part in the battle, on either side, truly showing their nature as the greyest of cowards. She nodded at friends she had passed, many scowled at her uniform, still wearing the green of Slytherin house, but it did not matter. What did matter, was the trio of blondes, all seated together, looking as if they didn’t belong.

“Draco,” (Y/N) sighed, finally making eye contact with the boy.

“(Y/N),” his blue-grey eyes lit up with a spark, jolting from the spot between his parents. He pulled her into a high embrace, unsure of what else to do. They could feel the eyes of the Malfoy’s on their backs, but didn’t care. (Y/N)’s arms wrapped tightly around his neck, leaning up to hold him closer. Draco felt himself melt into the touch, his head falling into the crook of her neck. They didn’t speak, but merely swayed for a moment, the world around them unmoving.

“Hi,” (Y/N) said, pulling her head away, eyes flicking between Draco’s.

“Hi,” Draco repeated, chuckled airily as he fought a grin.

“You’re alive,” she mumbled into his chest, taking in the sickly smell of sweat and dirt.

“I know.”

“I’ve been thinking,” (Y/N) said, loosening her arms just a bit, but still not disconnecting from Draco.

“A dangerous pastime,” Draco said, finally succumbing to his grin. He couldn’t help it. “What’ve you been thinking about?”

“All of this,” (Y/N) said, honestly. “Us.”

“Us?” Draco said, his brows furrowing closer together. “What about us?”

“Knocking on death’s door really puts life into perspective, you know?” (Y/N) said, glancing back up at the boy. “Makes you realize what you really want in life, while you still can.”

“And that’s what you really want?” Draco asked, almost hesitating. “You want me? Us?” (Y/N) nodded, the trace of a smile pulling at her lips. “I thought you were still mad at me, bloody hell, I know I would be.”

“I am,” (Y/N) nodded again. “Still mad at you, I mean. I don’t think I’ll ever be over it,” she laughed, the sound ringing into Draco’s ears. As beautiful as a bell. “But, you’ve changed. You still have conflict, I feel it in you, Draco. But you’ve chosen the right side, finally. Much more to work on, but that can be arranged,” (Y/N) smiled. “But, people do crazy things, think crazy things when…”

“When what?” Draco poked, knowing full well what (Y/N) was to say next. “Tell me, (Y/N), people do crazy things when what?”

“Shove it, Malfoy,” she said, pushing his face playfully away, her own shining as red as tomatoes. “You know full well what I was going to say.”

“You’re right,” Draco hummed, rocking back and forth on his toes, unsure of what to do. “I do.”

“Glad to see that you’re not as dim as I thought—”

“I love you.”

The words were quick, meaningful. Draco had never said them aloud, never fully to her. Only in his dreams did he imagine the moment would come where he could share his feelings with the one he desperately wanted to. Even in their fifth year, when their feelings collided, he never, truly, said those pesky three words. (Y/N) was always the one to say them, always two steps ahead.

“You—what?” (Y/N) babbled, stunned by the sudden confession.

“I love you,” Draco repeated, his words more determined. He ran his hand to her cheek, holding it gently. “Honestly, (Y/N), you should get your ears checked out, perhaps they were injured in midst the battle?”

“Funny,” (Y/N) clicked, leaning into his touch. “I just never thought that you’d actually—wow,” she shook her head slightly. “I never imagined that—”

“Would you shut up for a moment so I can kiss you?” Draco said, placing his thumb over her lips, successfully silencing the girl. (Y/N) nodded lightly, feeling her cheeks grow hot.

He pulled her in fiercely, his hand pushing itself behind her head, pulling her lips to his quickly. This is what they’d been fighting for all along, it was clear to both Draco and (Y/N). How plain it was, now that they had each other in their arms. The kiss was soft, full of their respect, their love for one another.

They had felt it, the eyes of the hall on them. Perhaps that’s what caused the two to pull away so soon, but even with the eyes of the world on the couple, they knew that it would be harder to separate them now than ever.

“I suppose…” (Y/N) said, interlacing her fingers with Draco’s. “I suppose you should get back to your parents.”

“You’re right,” Draco hummed, his eyes still glued to the girl before him. “We should get back to them.”

“We?”

“It’d be nice to reunite them with the little (L/N) girl, wouldn’t it? The one they’d been on my back about marrying anyway?” He grinned, watching (Y/N)’s smile creep up her face. “I’m sure they saw what just happened anyway, mum’d be on my back if I didn’t pull you over there anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right,” (Y/N) said, squeezing his hand. “Let’s go, then.”

The two walked hand in hand, not a care in the world for anyone but each other. They sat near Draco’s parents, smiling like idiots, watching the sunshine crawl over Narcissa’s face, the realization of happiness emitted in her son’s appearance. Lucius sat stiffly, unassuming to the whole affair, but proudly listened to (Y/N)’s quiet words of affection she had for his son.

Draco and (Y/N) continued to hold their hands, the feeling of warmth between their fingers radiated into their very hearts. Neither of the two were going to let go anytime soon, for they were not ignorant enough to let it happen again.

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @luna-xxxxx , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @steve-thotgers , @greeneyedthief, @kitkatkl , @thelightsideoflife , @thataudreydork

if your name is crossed out, i could not tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out to me if that’s the case.

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with! PLEASE BE SPECIFIC ON WHAT TAG LIST YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED ON!

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy imagine #maybe i like writing for draco #hard maybe my dudes #hope you like it!!

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eliicries · 3 years

Text

This is my first time ever writing a proper fanfic and also my first time posting it online. Criticisms are very much welcome. This is my alternative ending to the cartoon series "Clone High" (you guys should check it out, it's pretty great!) I love this pairing so much but I hated how they ended up sleeping together because I've always believed in character development and the ending felt like it wasted a good opportunity to do so.

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Enchanted (a joanfk fanfic)

How did it come to this?

Two bodies pressed against each other, one of which is hovering above it's counterpart, hot and eager to make contact. Then the other, whom lies beneath them writhing in discomfort yet somewhat obvious pleasure.

Never in Joan's life had she imagined herself being the latter in such an obscene situation.

Well atleast not with somebody else other than her bestfriend and absolutely not, emphasis on the word "not", with the certain campus playboy she used to avoid like a plague.

Heck, if someone told her last night that she would end up sleeping with JFK, she would've laughed her ass off for solid 10 minutes! Then proceed to sock their teeth off for even suggesting such an absurd idea.

But as she felt his breath fan against her bare neck, she felt her own hitch.

His lips met with her flushed skin and in their wake, left along little trails of pleasure of which accumulated into an emotion something else entirely.

Guilt.

It seeped into her flesh and gnawed upon her being.

Yet the feeling of betrayal against one's morals only increased tenfold when she made no protest to stop the male from completely lifting her shirt off.

Oh God, She actually moaned.

The himbo was not to be blamed of course. His previous advances had always been outright rejected, so as ecstatic as he was, her sudden change of heart confused him. An even bigger surprise to the both of them was when it was her who initiated the idea.

It's not like her to act like this. Was she really that frustrated beyond rational thoughts?

To make things even worse, it wasn't only the disappointment she has towards herself that's weighing on her mind but also of another person very much important to her.

Abe.

They've known each other since like forever.

Now, what would be a better way to ruin a good natured friendship other than one of them developing feelings for the other?

Just to her luck, she had to be the one who does the falling, whilst her companion seemed less than eager to catch her.

As if it's the universe's way to spite her, Abe suddenly decided to date someone else.

And of course, it just had to be none other than Cleo-fhking-patra.

Seeing them together at the school campus in a daily basis was already bad enough, now living under the same roof as her and all---she also had to suffer listening through the sloppy noises they make whenever they're eating their faces off.

She swears to god everytime cleo glances at her with that look of victor in her eyes, her blood boils so much. Oh, if only she was given an opportunity to poke them out with a fork.

Then, in a final attempt to win him over, Joan had to walk around wearing those god-forbid clothes and laugh in that shrill god-awful tone.

Yet to no avail, her feelings are still unreciprocated.

In the end even as a giggling vapid slut, Abe still chose Cleo over her.

Just like he always did.

He even seemed supportive with her hookup with JFK.

Another fuel added to the fire.

Now she felt really silly exerting all those efforts just for his approval.

She always berates Cleo for being such a slut but is she really better after how desperate she acted?

Maybe if only she'd been straight forward with him from the start, things would've ended in her favor.

Or perhaps it was wrong of her to seek reciprocity. Love, after all should be unconditional.

Either way, it's too late now.

She's so pathetic.

Suddenly a voice called out to her, a sudden ripple in her stream of thoughts, breaking her out from of her stupor.

Looking sideways, her eyes met with familiar droopy ones.

She hadn't even noticed that he had stopped moving a little while ago.

"H-huh?"

"Are you er, uh, alright?"

Oh. That's right.

She was with JFK, and they were about to have sex with each other.

"You were-uh, crying."

Immediately, she brought a hand to her cheek and felt the said liquid trailing down her cheeks.

Shuddering as she finally realized she was not only physically bare, but now also emotionally.

Great.

She atleast expected an expression of dissatisfaction from him, but the male said nothing and merely looked at her. Probably dumbstruck by the sudden turn of events.

The room was quiet except for her soft sniffles.

He seemed to fiddle with the bedsheets for a while before finally deciding to move closer to her.

"Can I er, touch you?"

Expecting him to continue on where they left but too tired to even protest, she made no movement whatsoever to stop the male. They might as well finish what they've started even tho the thought made her want to shut her eyes.

She was surprised however, when she felt his arms wrapping around her, securing her into a hug.

She turned to look at him, perplexed by the sudden act of affection that he is displaying.

"Did it not feel good?"

Ah, there he is.

Of course, It was just about his ego. How foolish of her to think that he, even for a bit, cared about her.

She tried to squirm away from his grip, her fists meeting with his chest. The male took this as a sign to loosen his hold of her but not as much to completely let go of her.

"I did something wrong didn't I?"

Her body suddenly ceased it's erratic movements. She turned to look at him, searching through his face for any signs of deception which instead, only offered a genuine expression of worry.

He was blaming himself.

He actually thought it was his fault that she was crying. That's why he stopped.

"I, er, um sorry.."

If she was already crying before, then she was definitely bawling her eyes out right now.

"N-no! It's not your fault i--why did you stop?" She exclaimed in between sobs. His hand settled itself on her waist while his other one made it's way to her hair, combing them in a way that's supposed to be therapeutic.

"There, there.."

"I wanted this, Kennedy! Isn't this what you also wanted?"

"Sure I do, but not when you're uh, like this." She lets out another sob. "Besides, If I do make you cry it's going to be for an entirely different reason, if you get my meaning."

"S-shut up.."

He suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at her causing her to roll her eyes. Normally, she would've been irked by his usual comments like this, but tonight must be a different case. They seemed to give her a weird sense of normalcy, and that somehow comforts her.

Her sudden movement made the male flinch, as if anticipating another punch for his pesky remarks, he was relieved however, when Joan just readjusted her head to lean into his chest more properly.

She found this actions of his comical, cute even if she dares, and she couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips.

"Have you calmed down now?"

"Yes, thanks Kennedy."

Silence enveloped the both of them for a while before Jfk decided to speak again.

"You know, this suddenly reminds him."

She hummed in acknowledgement.

"Uh, Lincoln."

"Oh."

JFK didn't fail to notice the weak croak in her voice.

"Yeah, it was around that time poncey died. It was just kinda like this, except ya' know, we weren't both naked."

She felt his chest rumble as both of them let out a chuckle, hers a bit stiffled from burrying her face into them further. Muttering, "That sounds just like him.." In a barely audible voice.

No words were exchanged afterwards. Silence embraced the room once again, the same way his arms did around her body. Warm and in contrast to the air outside---inviting.

The moon illuminated the dim room seemingly to say it's hello.

So she took the opportunity to get a good look at his face. There she could makeout the subtle movement of his nostrils as he breathes.

Inhale, exhale, Inhale, exhale, Inhale..

Till she found herself unconsciously moving to the same rhythm.

His eyes she noticed, are now droopier. As his upper lashes seeked to meet with his lower ones but never actually closed them as they were fixated onto her. Only now was she able to acknowledge the kindness she failed to notice that they seemed to always have.

Then his lips, which in contrast to the usual smirk he parades around campus, lost all it's cockiness and is now ghosting a faint smile.

He looked so endearing right now that she could only sigh.

Was this really the same guy who used to shove other kids into lockers before? The same one who used to view women as mere objects meant to gratify sensual pleasure?

I guess grief from Ponce's death did change him in ways even he is not aware of.

Or maybe, he's just not a complete asshole as she thought him to be.

It could also be that she's just lonely and desperate for any act of kindness so she clung into them when given. That would explain how she got into this situation in the first place.

But whatever the answer may be, there are two things that Joan is now sure of:

One, no one is irredeemable.

And two, the male never looked as much enchanting to her right now as he ever did before.

#joanfk #joan #JFK #Clonehigh #himbo #goth

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charmed-henry · 3 years

Text

Consequences | The Order

The Order responds to Henry and Rose’s attempt at a mission

Date: Mid July

TW: Light references to death, violence, physical abuse (nothing graphic)

@prince--thomas @knightley--phillip @captain--john @thehuntress-rose

HENRY

It made more sense not to have this conversation at the hospital, and yet Henry was grateful for that small mercy. He knew it was because talking about the Order in public was confusing at best and dangerous at worst, but Henry was personally very embarrassed about this whole thing and he really, really didn’t want Eric (or anyone else) to see him have to grovel. The fact that Rose was here was bad enough.

He sat down on the couch and looked around the room, from Rose to Tom to John to Phil, then sighed. Everyone stayed in stony silence. Henry had to say something. He sighed.

“Erm… right then,” Henry started, a little anxiously. “I reckon you will all want to say something about what my punishment will be and before we get into that, I just want to say that this really isn’t any of Rose’s fault. I know you will probably think that because of the way our last conversation went, but I didn’t tell her anything about Eric until last night, and this whole thing has been my idea. I… thought I could get Eric to come back to the Order on his own and I took some very stupid risks to do that, and… I’m very sorry that Rose got caught up in all of it.”

He glanced at Rose again, then back at the others. “Anyway, I wanted to get that out of the way. But… go ahead, let’s get on with it.”

THOMAS: Tom was fuming. He rarely got properly mad. This wasn’t just pissed off with annoyance, like he was at his mates every now and then. No, this was hands curled into fists, blood pounding, he wanted to hit something (preferably Henry’s face) mad.

He had been silent when he’d left the hospital with Rose and Henry in tow with a promise to see Grim and Eric in the morning. Now, he leaned against a wall of the living room, his arms crossed, expression stormy. He knew that he should keep control of his temper. They were young and stupid and he’d been young and stupid once. But, in their line of work, young and stupid meant you got people hurt or killed. Tom had already seen his fair share of death. So much of it. Even with Eric still alive, it hardly tipped the scales back. He was sick of it and he was angry.

So, Henry’s words only stirred a fire in him.

“Rose is responsible for her own actions,” Tom bit out. There that was civil enough…except that he kept going.

“If she didn’t want to be involved she would have called us or tried to stop you. So, she is just as at fault as you for your stupid, reckless behavior. You almost got someone killed! Probably more than one! You’re lucky you escaped alive. This isn’t a game! It’s not a training simulation. It’s fucking real and people’s lives! You two are playing with them as if none of that matters to you. It was irresponsible and dangerous and you should both be ashamed of yourselves. Not to mention all the lying and the secrecy. Does the code mean nothing to you? Does honor mean nothing? Eric is my family!” Tom’s voice boomed across the living room, and then cracked, like thunder. “I should’ve known he was alive!”

PHILLIP: Phillip reached a hand to Tom’s shoulder. He knew it was very likely that Tom would brush him off, but hell, if Tom was getting mad it was definitely a situation. He felt his own annoyance wrinkle in his chest, slowly tugging towards anger. He wasn’t as outraged as Thomas was (and that was justified — because, bloody hell Eric was alive), but he felt… well, betrayed really.

Disappointed.

That felt weird. Honestly, at this point, he’d rather be angry, rather curl his lip and rage.

But he glanced from Tom to Henry now and all he could think was that he was so damn happy they were alive.

“This was incredibly stupid and risky of you,” said Phillip, instead. He stood up, letting his hand drop from Thomas’s shoulder. “Especially after we told you all the risks — you could’ve put more civilians in danger. Did that ever occur to you? Did you even account for that, carrying on this plan in such a public place? What would have happened if it had been someone else who got injured and not Eric? If someone else died because of you lot.”

For all intents and purposes, his voice was rather calm, but he grit his teeth, some of that annoyance now mutating into bitter frustration.

“And,” he said, and this was the thing he did have the most issue with, and now his voice was cold. “You should’ve told Tom that his bloody cousin was alive.”

ROSE:

Rose was no stranger to scolding. The Huntsclan was a lot more barbaric in their tactics of taking a hunter down a peg. She went to the place in her mind that she usually did when she shut down. A place where she didn’t feel scared of whoever was in front of her. A place where her emotions didn’t control her. Rose heard the yelling, the anger in Tom’s voice, and felt Phil’s coldness.

He reminded her of her father.

Avoiding their eyes, she spoke up, “I didn’t know he was your cousin. I’m sorry, Tom.” Looking up to catch those ocean blues, “but you don’t have to grieve him anymore. You’re lucky.” Rose could only hope the people that had died in her time were secretly alive somewhere. She could see her mother walking down picturesque cobblestone roads with her hair down and not a care in the world. It was only a fantasy though, Rose had seen the open casket. There was proof of the impossibility of her return.

“Henry, you don’t have to defend me. We were in over our heads. I just didn’t want to admit I was,” she sighed. Eating crow wasn’t something Rose enjoyed, but to appease the men that had the power to further her fall from grace… she had to do something. If anyone in New York heard about this Rose would never gain back her good reputation.

JOHN

John was silent. His eyes spoke for him, the icy cold expression of contempt and disappointment aimed itself directly at the two responsible for this mess. “You deliberately disobeyed everything that you were told at the meeting when you first brought this business up. You lied directly to Thomas and Phillip.” He hadn’t been at the meeting, too busy with Office Hours he couldn’t leave from to go discuss a possible threat. He didn’t want to seem suspicious by lying to Jane once again to get out of it so he got updates from Tom and Phil throughout.

This was all a huge mess. A mess that weighed on his shoulders. Because although he was not appointed as some kind of higher position, the Order had always viewed him as the point of contact, the ring leader for all of this, he communicated with them and now he would have to either cover this up, or report to them what was going on. It put him in a position he very much didn’t want to be in.

“How is it that you two could be so impossibly daft?” His voice was cold, biting. Honestly, it was as if he was doing the most spot on impression of his father which frightened him a bit if he was being honest. “You’ve betrayed our trust. You’ve most certainly betrayed Tom’s and kept vital information from him. I cannot believe you lot, honestly. I’m in utter fucking disbelief. And now we’ve got a situation that we have to explain ourselves out of which draws further suspicion and more eyes towards us, jeopardizing everything we’ve bloody been working for.”

He would show some sort of reassurance or affection towards Thomas in his moment of crisis, but all he could do was lock his arms up, crossed over himself because he worried what he might do otherwise with them. No object not bolted down was safe. So he stood there, rigid, staring down the two that were the source of his ire.

HENRY

Henry had braced himself for this. He knew it was coming. For all the ways Henry had messed up during training, not fast enough or strong enough or focused enough, he had never landed himself in this kind of trouble before. There was a difference between a failure of strength and a moral failure. For someone who had always prided himself on his convictions, the latter hurt more.

He wanted to curl up in a ball, to crawl out of his skin, to completely disappear, but Henry knew that would only make him look weaker than he already did. So he gritted his teeth and listened, making eye contact with Tom, then Phil, then John, each one’s speech feeling like another punch to the gut. And by the time John was done, Henry could feel something rising in his throat, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

They were all right. Henry had lied. He had been cocky and selfish, believing he could bring Eric back to the Order all by himself and that everyone would be so bloody thankful they would overlook the way Henry had lied to them. He had betrayed the men who had trusted him and treated him kindly despite his family’s reputation, and he had dragged Rose into it, who should never have even been involved to begin with. Henry’s honor and his morals had always been so important to him, and now he didn’t even have that.

“I understand,” Henry said through gritted teeth, determined not to show any emotion. He didn’t want to risk saying too much more and looking like even more of the pathetic fool he felt like. “You’re all right. There’s no excuse. I thought I was doing right by Eric, but in reality…” Henry cut himself off and swallowed hard. “That’s all I’ve really got to say. I’m sorry. I… don’t deserve to call myself a Prince right now.”

That hurt even more to admit out loud. Henry needed to get out of here before he really let that sink in. He looked between the others, waiting for someone to speak. “...So what’s going to happen to us?”

THOMAS: Nothing Rose or Henry said made him feel any better about this. Their apologies meant little to him and Rose’s argument also meant little. Of course Tom was relieved to have Eric back. He had lost more people than he could count at this point. To have any of them back was a bloody miracle. But, that did not fix the damage that had been done. Not only to Tom’s heart, but to his trust in either of them. (Though, he did not know how much or for how long Rose had known.) Henry, though, knew better. He knew better and he had done it anyway.

Had lied to them as a Prince. Going off behind their backs to put himself and others in danger, trying to play the hero. Tom understood the urge, but you had to be smart about these things. You couldn’t just throw yourself into a mess without a plan. By lying, he knew that he shouldn’t have done it in the first place.

And he had lied to Tom as a friend, as family. Sure, Henry and Tom did not share blood, but they shared family nonetheless. His sister was Tom’s sister’s in-law. They shared an aunt.

His jaw grit as he listened to Henry’s speech and still felt nothing but burning anger. If it was the two of them, and just the two of them, Tom would’ve already punched him and been done with it. But, he had a feeling that it needed more than a fight to get the bad blood out from between them.

Still, he just glanced towards John, knowing he knew the severity of this crime--and the severity of the punishment that must follow. Tom had a feeling if he was the one who doled it out, it would not be taken as seriously, considering the vengeance that it would be.

PHILLIP:

“You’ll be put on probation,” said Phillip, before John could speak. He knew that John would be harsher with his words than he probably intended (or maybe, he’d intend them to be that harsh — either way, harsher than was necessary for the situation). Phillip could deliver the punishment without going overboard, he felt, because while he certainly was pissed off, he didn’t have as much personal stake in the matter (and also, well, he’d felt a little annoyed at the concept of the Order lately, if only because of his forced engagement).

“Well, Henry will anyway. Rose, I’m sure it’ll be up to your superiors, but I reckon the fate will be similar: you’ll still be stationed in Swynlake, but you won’t be assigned on any missions. We can call on your assistance if we need, but it’ll likely be menial work: helping John with the paperwork, cleaning weapons, all that jazz. The probationary period usually lasts for a few months, after which, your status will be evaluated.” He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “Should you break your probation, then you’ll be stripped of your Prince status and if you ever want to take it back, you’ll need to undergo the required training and examinations once again.”

He flicked his gaze from Henry to Rose.

“Once again, not sure what the protocol will be for you, Rose, should you violate that probation.” He folded his hands together. “Got all that?”

ROSE: (tw: abuse mention) Great.

John was yelling, which she hadn’t seen before, but she’d never seen him happy with her either. Tom was just stoically standing there, brooding. Rose had seen this more than enough times. Phil, however, was the one speaking calmly, rationally. Well, he was pretty calm most times. But it seemed as if he had stepped up to dole out reprimands.

Rose supposed she should appreciate it. Considering that hearing it from anyone else would most likely be a lot harsher. John probably thought she was the worst person to transfer over from the Huntsclan, but Tom knew exactly why. She wasn’t ‘stationed’ here, she was exiled. The Huntress chose to come here, yes, but it was never really her own choice. Her punishment was being here, she was never going to be sent back to New York for bad behavior.

She sighed, really absorbing the mess she’d gotten herself into. It was bad for her, but worse for Henry. If he stepped out of line, they said he’d lose his position? He wouldn’t handle that well at all. Rose knew the Order was all about, well, order… but she’d much rather just take a quick slap or a bloody nose over a demotion. The hellion huntress had already worked her way down the ladder of punishments so there was not much further to fall.

“Fine,” she muttered under her breath, but still loud enough to hear. Rose looked up from her feet, to acknowledge only Phil, “Can we go now?”

THOMAS: In Tom’s opinion, Henry deserved to have his title stripped. Here and now. Of course, it was not that easy. The Golden Trio they might be, but it was the kings of the Order who decided such things. He would absolutely recommend it. John and Phil had already managed to talk him down from that, but it didn’t change his mind.

It had been so bloody reckless. It had been so bloody deceitful. Tom couldn’t decide what he was more pissed about: the fact they had gone against their direct orders and almost gotten someone killed or that Henry had been lying to his face for…a year? More?

Tom’s heart felt like it was tearing itself apart and he resented it. He resented all of it. The Order and all it’s stupid rules. The Order and how it put them in these positions. Made them make these decisions—about life and death. He resented how it made him lose his family and then lose them again. All of the sudden, it was as if the clouds had parted onto a calm sea after days and nights of a storm raging. Years of a storm raging.

And he could see clearly how all these things came back to one thing: the Order. It had taken his father and his brother in law, his cousins. How miserable it was. But, as soon as he tried to navigate a path away, all he saw was his sisters. Was Phil and John. And he couldn’t—would never—leave them behind.

“Yes, go,” Tom bit out. “And I hope in the future you take the lives of those you care about much more seriously. Life is not guaranteed, death is.”

#order things #tom #thomas #phil #john #rose #consequences #shark attack #shark week

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miss-tc-nova · 4 years

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A SOLDIER’s Memories - Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader Pt 7

Not gonna lie, I struggled a lot around this section of the story, but I think I finally got everything lined out.

Part 7: Dispelling Suspicions

The Gold Saucer. Fuck.

I barely want to be around Cloud. I really don’t want to be at the Gold Saucer. And I sure as hell don’t want to be at the Gold Saucer with Cloud. This is bad. Not that I’ve been doing myself any favors.

Honestly, my brain is kind of giving me whiplash. Up until the event that flipped my world, I was a bit of a joker who could take her job serious when she needed. But then shit happened. I became unapproachable. Only the Shinra executives and the Turks seemed alright interacting with me while everyone else seemed on edge, which was fine by me; I was an empty husk taking orders. Now, I’m kind of in an unknown state of who I am. I’ve already displayed that I still have access to that wrath that keeps people at bay, but I’m slipping back into that joker I used to be. I’d only meant it to aggravate my captors, but it came much more naturally than I expected.

That’s no excuse to let my guard down though.

This is our second pass through the Gold Saucer. The first was so chaotic that I couldn’t dwell on the past. Plus, we picked up a suspicious cat. We’ve been going on as if we’ve never met before, but I’m sure he’s up to something. It becomes far more obvious when we start running into Shinra grunts everywhere we go and whispers spread that there’s a spy among us. Since I’ve healed from my injury, courtesy of Saint Aerith, they decided that I needed constant babysitting and now it’s doubled since Cait Sith came along. I know it’s him, but I haven’t figured out what exactly he’s after yet. I’ve been biding my time, waiting for proof because I’m the obvious suspect.

I lounge across the bed of the Ghost Square inn, trying to block out the memories attempting to bubble to the surface. Not wanting to be here any longer and needing a distraction, I start for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Cloud says sternly.

I give him a toothy grin. “We’re at an amusement park. I’d like to be amused.”

He scowls. “I don’t think so.”

“C’mon. I’ll be back before midnight.”

“No.”

“If you’re that worried, come with me.”

That wipes the strictness from his face. “What?”

“Well you can’t keep me here. So you can either waste your energy trying to keep me in this room or you can keep an eye on me and come with me.” I slip my hand from the glove he’s had a hold of and wave my fingers at him. “So what’ll it be?”

The blonde heaves a sigh. “Fine. Let’s go.”

We let the others know we’re heading out and go, to the objection of some. And out we go into the amusement park where I try to lose my tail; sucks for me that he’s got a good eye. Since I can’t lose him, I steer far away from Chocobo, Wonder, and Round Squares; who knows what’ll happen if I go there with him.

“Oh! Wonder Square!” and I jump into the entrance of Battle Square. Once I make it out, I look back and see that he’s still following me. Dammit. “Oops. Wrong entrance.”

“Stop that,” he huffs. “I know what you’re doing.”

I shrug and wander further up the stairs of the square. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Seriously. I know you’re trying to shake me which convinces me even more that you’re the spy.”

“Pfft. I’m not the spy.”

“Then why are you being so suspicious?”

I turn to him, still climbing. “Let me start following you around and see if you don’t try to escape. You’re killin’ my fun. Remember that things I said about morale?”

“That doesn’t apply to hostages.”

I actually pause to laugh, purposely annoying him. “I am not a hostage, despite what you and your random gang of miscreants might think.”

“Pretty big words for someone reluctant to fight unless she can get in a cheap shot.”

Oh, he’s pushing it. “Fine.” I wave to the help desk. “Let’s play.”

A glint of true interest flashes in his eyes. I know he’s been dying to take me on since I did get in that cheap shot at Shinra HQ. “You’re on.”

So Cloud and I register for the upcoming tournament, but drawing odds place us at opposite ends of the battle tree, meaning we’ll have to win every round to make it to the finals to take each other on. I have my fun with the warm up rounds, but Cloud’s attempting to make it obvious these rounds are worthless to him—he wants that final match.

“I hope you’re more fun than the gigas,” I call out over the roaring of the crowd. Cloud simply readies his sword. “Then again, you’re never any fun,” I sigh.

The round starts and Cloud is after me in a heartbeat. He’s definitely gotten better, become a challenge to actually take on compared to being susceptible to black-out sucker punches. I’m actually very impressed with the progress he’s made in such a short time. He’ll quickly overtake me at this rate. But not today.

I swing a khopesh at the man which he swats away and he barely has time to recover and stop the one in my hand from striking him. I take a few swipes to push him around before lunging. He steps back and I slam my sword into the ground where he’d just been standing. As I stand back up, I’ve got both blades in my hands and give him a smile. Cloud’s eyes widen and I very quickly jerk back, successfully pulling his legs from under him. I prevent him standing with a blade pointed at his chest.

“Face it, if I wanted you dead, I would’ve killed you myself. Shinra grunts just aren’t that reliable as you’ve noticed,” I say gloatingly. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be and there’s nothing you and your misfit band of hooligans could’ve done to stop me.” Cloud’s glare fades somewhat. “I’m not your enemy.” I don’t know why the next words come from my mouth, but they’re true. “I never was.”

Suddenly, Cloud’s sword comes up between us, knocking my blade from my hand. The man recovers his feet and, just before I can separate from him, he swings. The sword slams into my stomach, sending me flying back, crashing heavily into wall of the arena. I’ve lost.

I lie in the crevasse created for me, listening to the audience cheer on the chocobo. A crooked grin pulls at my lips even though I’m still struggling to regain my breath. I’d be dead had he chosen to use the sharp edge to do me in. His boots stop in front of me.

“A smart enemy wouldn’t let their guard down until they’ve won.” I let my gaze trail upwards, finding the victor offering his hand to me. “Guess that makes you ally.”

My smile widens and I take his hand. “’Bout time you figured it out, you cheater.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

“Liar.” I spot a bouncing crown making its way through the crowd and point it out. “And you guys thought I was the spy.”

He huffs and we chase down Cait Sith. Long story short, he gives away the Keystone to the Turks and I dangle him over a ledge until he spits out he’s got Marlene held prisoner. Annoyed, we follow him back to the inn where he explains to everyone that he was the spy and that it’s best to keep him around. Meanwhile, I curse myself for letting him get this far, though I suppose there was nothing I could’ve done with Barret’s little girl in his grasp.

I head for the stairs up to the rooms when the feline calls out to me. Pausing, I look back at him.

“What do you want?”

The moogle hops closer and Cait Sith plays in his cape. “I managed to sneak in before they cleared out your room at the military complex.” My brows pull together and he holds his hand out. “I know you don’t trust me, but this seemed important to you, so I brought it.”

Unsure of what he’s going on about, I open my hand to receive his gift. He drops in my hand a pendent strung on a silver chain. My heart implodes. Before I can even think about it, my other fist snaps forward, sending Cait Sith nearly halfway across the room. Immediately, Cloud and Tifa are on me to prevent me further mauling that feline. I shake the two off and climb the stairs without a single word, fist tightly clenched around the jewelry. The cool metal burns against my skin, dredging up memories of past visits to this place.

In the room I shared with the other girls, I rip the window open and wind my arm back to hurl the locket out of my life. That innocent face flashes behind my eyes. I clamp them shut and will myself to throw the necklace. But I don’t; I can’t. I’m still far too infatuated with the dead. Gnashing teeth and cursing myself, I look down at the simple, round trinket. Of course I had to be reminded of the things I’ve lost, of the life I’ll never have.

I give into my lapse of judgment and loop the chain around my neck, stuffing it down my shirt and out of sight. It feels like it weighs a ton but that’s just emotional baggage. Tifa, Aerith, and Yuffie all return to the room.

“Heeey,” Tifa says awkwardly.

Hands behind her back in an attempt to be non-threatening, Aerith steps closer. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” I say innocently.

“Talk about what?!” Yuffie exclaims. “You nearly busted in Cait Sith’s face!”

A giggle escapes me. “Oh that. That was for accusing me of spying on everyone.”

The girls all stare with blank, maybe-mildly-concerned expressions while I just smile at them.

#cloud strife #cloud x reader #cloud strife x reader #ffvii cloud #ff7 cloud #fem!reader

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havocccd · 4 years

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✎⌠china anne mcclain. cis female. she/her⌡❝ — well, look who’s just arrived ! if it isn’t the one and only sasha lane. though, around here they’re known as the explosive. don’t tell ‘em i said this but the twenty two year old wallys gas bar and convenience store worker kinda has a reputation of being short tempered and turbulent. but y’know, they can be determined and unfailing too. typical aries. anyways, welcome home and stay safe sasha ! ❞ ↷ g. 23. she/her. aest.

H-HEWWO PART TWO. it is i . . g . . back with a wildly different character from sid. this is SATANIC SASHA !!!

tws for violence, neglect, abuse, parental issues (they’re all just Vaguely mentioned!!)

inspiration for sasha: clementine from the walking dead game, jessica jones from Jessica jones, faith from buffy the vampire slayer, camille preaker from sharp objects. Basically any unhinged female character u have watched Murder a Man and kinda gone ‘huh . . good for her’

how do I describe sasha ?? she is .. a Feral Beast

she has so many anger issues and hate towards the world that she is so unforgiving and blunt and borderline Cruel to people

believes that the whole world is against her

has a very short temper and is not Afraid to show it

will fuck ur boyfriend/girlfriend if u piss her off, or even fuck ur dad/mum to break up ur parents marriage just bc she can !

has no morals

gets into punch-ons basically 3000x a week and is well known by the police by now

she grew up in a trailer park just outside of misty hollow, and basically . . it was a lot of neglect and parental abuse and mistreatment. growing up, she was literal ‘trailer trash’ and looked down on by a lot of ppl in misty hollow. it turned her very cruel and indifferent towards people except .. her twin brother ( eugene. u will see him soon hehe)

her twin and her basically show how Differently two ppl can grow from the exact same environment – sasha turned vengeful and angry, and her brother did the exact opposite – he became really nice and Good

they were raised by their mother, primarily, and her mother was . Not Good. she definitely hated sasha, and often told her. she saw something ugly and dangerous in sasha at a very young age , and was convinced the Devil lived inside of her (she wasn’t entirely wrong)

besides all of her faults, sasha is actually really really fiercely loyal to people she does like. she will kill people for the people she loves.

she doesn’t have any real ambition or drive, she knows shes going to be stuck in misty hollow forever . her parents are long long gone now, so now its just sasha and her twin in their crappy apartment they can barely afford

she works over at wallys gas bar, and tbh she likes working there bc wally has always been nice to her and understanding of her crappy little life

with the murders starting up again now , sasha is a little on -edge. She has a really really bad feeling about things, and can’t help but feel like it’s only inevitable before smth happens to her, her twin, or someone she loves.

she’s also slightly suspicious about her dropkick father, who left their mother apparently, just when the first round of murders happened. she saw him in town (she '’’believes’’’ but also .. she’s a bit unhinged so do we believe h er ?? probably not) just recently, and is kinda paranoid thinking that the murderer could be him (she doesn’t really have any proof, but sasha just kinda always feels like Everything That Goes Wrong is Inherently Her Fault bc that’s what her mother taught her)

SOME PLOTS / CONNECTIONS FOR HER

messy girl friends: two chaotic bitches causing ruination and despair . they have been best friends since they were younger. Two pea’s of the same pod, some might call them. They’ve always ALWAYS had each others backs, and u rarely see one without the other!

A taboo “Relationship” : taboo-ish. These two have been Seeing Each other for a little while (its strictly sex, NO FEELINGS INVOLVED , or at least . . not on sasha’s side). they’ve kept it very lowkey and hidden. why? Maybe ur character is a lot older then sasha. Maybe they’re Married or smth messy, idk, sasha is a Messy bitch I hate her sometimes

Love / hate: these two annoy the hell out of each other, but they also hang out all the time ? they act like they hate each other but like. they’re very low key friends. They like pissing one another off, bc it’s fun and Entertaining

A softie : somebody who actually sasha is a lil soft for. somebody who brings up her non-feral side, and reminds her that she is just a Girl, not something rigged to explode and ruin everything

A squad : sasha hates a lot of ppl so I’d like her to have some people she parties with and can be a Youngin’ with u know ? a lil crew of neighbourhood kids around the same age as sasha. they all grew up together . all party together. all Understand Each Other to some Degree.

A sister / mother figure : sasha is deeply lacking in these in her life. maybe somebody who’s a GOOD INFLUENCE on her and loves her and teaches her love in return ??? we love positive female relationships !!

f-buddies: a lot of them. Sasha is a hoe and we don’t slut shame in 2020 !!! let her sleep around if she wants to ! she’ll sleep with anyone and everyone , yee haw !

#INTRO → sasha l.#misty.intro #im excited part 300000 i never shut up !!! sorry if u all hate me already !!#i dont blame u !!!#anyways pls im so open to all plots n ideas i just have some listed for Just In Case!!!

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snarkwrites · 4 years

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FFT: villainesses want heroes; ray palmer

Notes:

Okay look. It was fun to attempt writing a kind of morally gray / bad girl type. And it’s something I do wanna do again at some point.

Summary:

Ginger did all the wrong things for all the right reasons. And it nearly cost her family, a love and her actual life. Thanks to her sister Sara, she’s back on the Waverider and she’s recovering. When her memory returns, can she recover what she had with Ray? or is it too late?

Pairing:

Ray Palmer x Lance!OFC, Ginger

Warnings:

morally gray character, innuendo, mentions of temporary amnesia..

“You’ll do as I ask, Ginger.. Or your father and your sister Laurel? The real one? Well, they stay dead.”

The phone went dead and Ginger threw it, swearing as she practically paced a hole through the floor. From the doorway, her sister Sara spoke up.

“You’re the leak? You’re the reason Damien’s been a few steps ahead?”

That look of disappointment in her sister’s eyes had Ginger biting her lip and looking down, instantly ashamed of herself, despite Sara not really having any room to talk. “You don’t…”

“Don’t you dare tell me I won’t understand.” Sara was angry and hurt and stepping closer to the younger sister she thought she’d been bonding with.

Apparently, her baby sister was just using her as a means to an end. Sara stepped closer, glaring down at her and her sister swallowed hard, taking a few shaky breaths.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? I mean, color me curious. What’s so damn important that you’d throw all the good we’ve done.. That you’d throw your own sister.. Under the bus?”

“Damien promised me he’d bring back our dad and Laurel, okay? Look, you got years with them both. Mom, she… she whisked me away to Nebraska when I was still a baby. Do you think I liked growing up away from you guys? Do you think I wanted to deal with Mom always putting her teaching career over me and refusing to let me see our father or either of you?” Ginger snapped at her sister, pacing, winding her fingers through long blonde locks as she punched at the wall next to the door.

She was in over her head, she knew that now. Thing of it was, she was too little, too late. She clearly saw now that Damien had been using her from the start. Manipulating events that at any time could’ve gotten the team hurt or even killed. The only way out of the situation she’d gotten herself into was through it. And given the anger she saw in her sister’s eyes right now, asking for any kind of assistance to pull off what she had in mind was probably going to result in a brawl.

A throat cleared from the door and Ray stood there, staring at her in confusion. “You’re the leak? I thought..”

“Ray…”

Ray didn’t even bother sticking around, he turned and walked away, vanishing from Ginger’s sight and Ginger sank back into the chair, lightly beating her head against the back of it.

Yeah.. She was definitely going to have to go this one alone, it seemed. It’s what you deserve, Gin… her mind echoed as she stood and smoothed her shaking hands over the front of her favorite pair of jeans.

It dawned on her.. She had a particular advantage. Maybe if she acted quick.. She sprang up from the chair and made her way off the WaveRider….

And that was the absolute last thing she remembered, prior to waking up in the medic bay on the ship.

XXX

Everything fucking hurt. From the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t ache. The steady hum of the machines alerted her to the fact that something was.. Horribly wrong.

The platinum blond man stepped out, rubbed his hands together as he shook his head and chuckled. “I swear, I wish I knew what was so gosh darned enchanting about that idiot Palmer.. Not only did he manage to bewitch my own flesh and blood… But he got under the skin of one of my best assets.” the man tutted and shook his head, checking her vitals as he asked her calmly, “Do you still think shooting the serum directly into your neck was a good idea, Ginny? You’re such a smart girl, I’m almost disappointed to see you do something so foolish.”

“Look… I dunno who you are or what the fuck you’re talking about but… If you’re gonna kill me, make it quick, alright? It’s not like I got anything to live for.”

Damien eyed her, a brow raised at first. Then the look of confusion transformed into one of sheer joy. The memory erasing serum he’d been testing -and that she’d mistakenly grabbed when she was trying to steal the mock up of Mirakuru he had, it worked!

And it worked quite well.

Ginger felt that the guy was just dragging things out on purpose. She’d never really been a fan of someone who didn’t have the balls to get straight down to their intentions. Her mother always told her she got her mile wide stubborn streak and her strong sense of right and wrong from her father and that at times, it could be infuriating.

She managed to pry her wrists free and when the guy was puttering around his lab, she snuck up behind him, raising the only weapon she’d been able to find high above her head, every intention of braining him to death with it if it meant her making it out of this situation alive.

Her jaw dropped when he cleared his throat, lifted a finger and the object she held in her grasp fell to the floor with a noisy clank. He turned, staring her down. “If you’ll have a seat, I’m more than willing to explain everything… Including how you sought me out, desperate for dear old daddy to get one more chance at life… To have your whole family together again.. How you sold out your own sister for a chance to bring your dead one back.”

“You lying piece of shit!”

“Oh, but I’m telling the truth, darling.”

Ginger’s mouth opened and closed. While every fiber in her being wanted to believe the man was full of bullshit, there was this feeling deep down inside that insisted that no, he wasn’t.

And that thought blew her mind.

She went for the blunt object she’d been intending to use as a weapon again and Damien waved his hand, sending her crashing back into the room, a table toppling over on top of her. The table pinned her down, although by her own math, she should’ve easily been able to lift it.

The door burst open just as she started to black out all over again. She didn’t start coming to until she felt herself being scooped up.. The cologne.. Something about it was… familiar in a way.

She definitely knew whoever it was who was behind her rescue. She gripped hold of them, muttering the first name that came to her mind torn between consciousness and just giving in to the void again.

Ray sighed as he hurried down the hall, trying to locate Mick Rory to pass Ginger off for safety.

“Shh.. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m kinda like a cat. I tend to land on my…” she was starting to slip out again. Everything faded out and the next time she opened her eyes, she was somewhere entirely different. She almost wanted to say it was a hospital room… But something felt off about the whole thing.

The blonde woman who resembled her mother stepped towards her, a hand out and she tried to scoot as far away from her reach as possible. She was fighting against the drips and IV’s, hell bent on getting away and lucky she didn’t injure herself further. She stopped shy of ripping anything out because she’d always heard that doing that was never a good idea and she wasn’t keen on dying.

“Who the hell are all of you? Where the fuck am I?”

Sara caught her just as she managed to get a hand down to where her thick soled boots would’ve been normally and she spoke up. “Do you remember anything?”

“No… Wait… I remember a fight with a biker in an alley. Because he caught onto me hustling him in a game of pool..” Something about the memory didn’t feel right, but she wasn’t.. Sure about anything enough to know.

Sara glanced at Ray, tears stinging at her eyes. This was similar to the way her sister acted before they reconnected. Had her father lived -and been the one to raise Ginger, he would’ve definitely had his hands full, given some of their intel on her prior to choosing her to become a Legend.

Sara sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m Sara. Your sister.”

Ginger eyed her, wary. “I haven’t seen her since I was 4. How do I know you’re not lying? Mom told me Sara died…” Ginger trailed off, fidgeting.

“Mom believes that too. Nothin Dad tried tellin her would convince her otherwise.” Sara reached out and tilted her sister’s chin to make her meet her gaze. “Do you remember anything?” Sara tried again, hoping that maybe jogging her sister’s memory would free anything.

“Coming to Star City and visiting Dad’s grave..”

Ginger’s eyes settled on the lanky brunette male standing in the doorway and she nodded to him. “Getting shitfaced and waking up in a bed with that guy… Have you two… ya know? Because that tongue…” Ginger fanned herself, giving a giggle of delight at the way the guy blushed when every set of eyes in the room with him turned to fix on him at once. “In all seriousness.. He will totally rock your world.”

Ray’s face darkened and he cleared his throat.

Mick was quick to step between Ray and Sara, reminding her that the important thing here was to find out what Dahrk did to her kid sister while the guy had her. Ginger rubbed her head and grimaced as she felt dried blood and what felt to be a clumsy attempt at stitches.

“Well this is just peachy.” she mumbled as the others stepped out into the hallway. Sara immediately slapped Ray in the back of the head and Ray gave her a sheepish look.

“You… I can’t even right now.”

“Try being me.. She remembers our first night together.. But doesn’t remember anything else.. I get the feeling she might not take it well when she realizes just how serious we’d gotten before that night she left to go stupidly offer herself up to Damien.” Ray shook his head, swinging at a wall. “I still can’t believe she fucking did it.”

“She thought if she went and stole the device and serum herself, she’d be giving us an edge. She had all the passcodes to his compound, Ray. She’s never been afraid of anything. We both know this. Did you really think she’d sit back and just.. Let things go?”

“I wish she had.” Ray grumbled, taking a few deep breaths, staring intently into the room Ginger was currently recovering in. He’d spent months thinking he lost her too, that she’d died when they faced off against Damien a third or fourth time. And then they started to hear rumors about some badass new assassin. Apparently, she’d gotten on Damien’s bad side somehow, because the next thing they knew, Gideon was picking up a ping on Ginger.

Given that Sara had way more than enough time to calm down, to figure out the motive behind Ginger playing double agent, - a talk with her mother helped, and that in the months following Sara cooling down, she had ample amounts of time to settle into a pattern of blaming herself for her baby sister possibly dying, them going to try and rescue her and face Damien one final time was inevitable.

Ray hadn’t worried about anything beyond getting Ginger the fuck out of the compound. In fact, he’d kind of stepped up and really taken on leadership of the whole attempt.

Sara hadn’t been in the mindset to think clearly. To be honest, he hadn’t either, but he knew he wasn’t going to lose another woman he loved.

His hand rested against the glass as he watched Ginger like a hawk through the window. He couldn’t stay away, so while the others were talking, he made his way in quietly. Ginger’s eyes lit up at seeing him and she teased quietly, “Come to give me sweet dreams again, Dr. Feelgood?”

Ray stared at his hands. There was so much he wanted to say to her. Things he needed to say. But it all got trumped by the fact that he was just glad she was there and alive and able to say things to drive him crazy and make him blush.

“How’d you know?”

“Know what?” Ginger asked, moving to sit up, sort of snuggling against his side and leaning her head against his shoulder.

“I’m technically a doctor.. And that’s what you called me….”

“After that night when I woke up in your penthouse. I remember that much.” Ginger nodded, giving a frustrated sigh. The light bounced off of something on a chain around her neck, and curious, Ginger pulled the chain out of it’s hiding place beneath her favorite tee shirt. As soon as she saw the dog tags and read the name on them… And the simple engagement ring that was also on the chain, everything rushed back to her at once and she sighed, going quiet.

“Oh.”

Ray eyed her, eyed the necklace he knew she never took off. He swallowed hard at the sight of the engagement ring he’d gotten her as a ‘joke’ when they were stranded in 1975 together on her first mission with the team.

“You were more than just a one night stand to me and true to form, I completely fucked that up.. My sister, she… Why would any of you even bother coming for me after what I did?”

“Maybe sometimes, princess.. Maybe sometimes the good guys fall for the bad girls. Did you really think I was going to just leave you there?”

“Ray, I would’ve left me there, okay? I can’t believe I was so fuckin stupid. Damien was never gonna bring either of them back.. And I betrayed the only sister I have left.. And you, I-…” she trailed off, looking down at her lap. She was about to do something she hated doing and tried to av oid at all costs.

Something she hadn’t done since the night she came to Star City and spent an entire night sitting at her father’s graveside doing it. The fat tear made it’s trek down her face just as Ray tilted her chin to make her look at him.

“I get it. I didn’t at first. I wanted to hate you. I really wanted to hate myself… Especially after we thought.. Ginger, you’ve been gone almost a year now. We thought you died… I spent almost a year thinking that you died. Knowing I could’ve stopped you from leaving that night, but I was too disgusted by what you were doing to bother.”

He leaned in, cradling her cheek against his hand, wiping at her eyes with a tissue. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re back and I’m not… Nothing like that is ever going to happen to us again.”

Ginger swallowed hard. “It’s not too late?”

“When you really love someone, Ginger, it’s never too late to try and fix things. If that’s what you want.”

Ginger glanced down at the dog tags and the ring he’d given her in joking. She slipped the necklace from it’s place around her neck, unfastening it. Ray raised a brow, biting his lip as she slipped the ring off the ball chain and onto her finger.

“Does that answer your question, Dr. Palmer?”

He pulled her onto his lap and as they started to kiss, throats cleared from the doorway.

“For fucks sake, you two! Jesus, get a room.” Sara turned until they’d both finally caught on to not being in the room alone and could be bothered to pry themselves apart in the sense of public decency.

“You both done now?”

“Actually, as soon as I can get these stupid fucking drips out of me…”

“Don’t… Don’t you dare finish that, Ginger Louise Lance.” Sara groaned, laughing as she moved closer, making an attempt to hug her sister.

#ray palmer fanfiction #ray palmer fanfic #ray palmer fic #ray palmer oneshot #ray palmer imagine #// I do lowkey wanna go there with this and do a bit more digging but idk idk..#// maybe at some point.

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cantfoolajoker · 5 years

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s.e.e.s. as dnd classes

after my last post on the thieves, i have now returned to talk more about using dnd classes and subclasses as character study opportunities with the focus now being on sees (plus hamuko bc she counts)

since the post is lengthy, its going under the read more

so, for starters, minato/makoto is a shadow magic sorcerer. sorcerers are based on the idea that rather than learned arcana or given magic, you inherently have it inside you and can produce said affects with your sheer force of will, or your charisma. shadow magic sorcerers are linked specifically to the shadowfell, which is the negative energy to the feywilds positive energy, and sorcerers uniquely display quirks depending on their lineage; two i’d propose for minato/makoto would be “when you asleep, you don’t appear to breathe (but you still do to survive)” and “always cold to the touch”, since they seem the most fitting in my opinion for him. they get things such as strength of the grave, which says that on a successful saving throw on an otherwise fatal hit, you’ll drop to just 1 hp due to your constant state of being between life and death, and you also get the umbral form at 18th level, which allows you to change your form to a shadowy state that is resistant to all damage except for force and radiant that also allows you to move through other objects or creatures (man does that remind you of a certain battle a bit).

in comparison, minako/hamuko is a totem barbarian in my full honest opinion. the reason i say this is because one of her defining traits is her hot headedness and impulsiveness to jump into situations, making her a prime candidate for barbarian due to their rage state and ability to tank hits. they get martial weapons, allowing her to pick up some weapon similar enough to a naginata, and the main aspect of the class is the ability to pick a totem spirit, which provides buffs depending on which animal you pick for your totem. personally, i throw my vote in for the wolf totem because it functions as a leader with the ability to land advantage melee hits on any creature hostile to you, the ability to track certain enemies and move at a stealthier natural pace, and the ability to just knock a large or smaller enemy prone when you hit them with a melee attack, all of which benefits minako/hamuko very nicely and lines up with her fighting style in both p3p and pq2.

alright so i know yukari uses a bow and arrows, and i know ranger exists, but also rangers are kinda bad in dnd overall and also yukari isn’t really a scout in any way. luckily dnd has an answer to this in the form of arcane archer fighter. arcane archers fuse magic into their archery methods in order to protect and deliver damage, mixing both yukari’s magic usage with her weapon of choice. they get the ability to literally redirect their arrows once shot to new targets and second wind, which lets them regain hp as a bonus action once per short or long rest. arcane archers essentially get an arrow type for like every school of magic, which makes up for the fact this would mean yukari has lost most of her healing spells since arcane archer fighters focus on dps more than they do support, though its not like ranger wouldve made up for that anyway.

so since junpei wants to be the leader so badly, i decided a champion fighter was gonna be the best bet for him, both because in a meta sense it is usually the First Pick newcomers do due to its simplicity of hit and hit more, but also because the class focuses on dps and raw physical power pushed to perfection, which junpei does end up getting when he learns to use a bat rather than a sword with the way he swings. this class and subclass is super straightforward: you get More damage to do the more you try to hit, and you get a higher chance of critical hits along with a more flexible fighting style and the ability to regain hit points with the survivor feat. they also get remarkable athlete, which lets them use half their proficiency bonus for any checks made while using one of their physical stats (so strength, dexterity, and constitution, all of which junpei def has) to have a greater chance at passing said checks.

akihiko's a monk. i literally don’t know what anyone expected. he’s a way of the open hand monk. open hand monks generally focus on debuffing enemies, which is akihiko’s staple in the party next to his all around good stats, which monks possess too in form of natural armor, increased movement speed, and having a hit die for throwing punches rather than dishing out 1 point of damage per hit, which increases as they get stronger. they can also heal themselves which akihiko has with his dia and diarama spells, but that isn’t the focus of it as much as it’s just a neat add on. overall, the guy’s a boxer and needs to dish out punches and monk does literally exactly that.

so i made a joke with a friend about how mitsuru keeps using marin karin because the ai of p3 is bad, and that led into the idea that mitsuru is a college of swords bard. while bards can be very stereotypically flirty, it’s just based on the fact their casting stat is charisma, so really any charismatic character can be a bard, which mitsuru does have with her formal way of speaking and her way of holding herself to establish authority. swords bard use, if you couldn’t guess, swords to fight, typically finesse weapons that they use dex for to fight, which with mitsuru’s weapon being a rapier, an actual finesse weapon in dnd, it’s an elegant weapon pick for an elegant class. they also get jack of all trades so they’re good at pretty much everything, which reflects the sort of type of person mitsuru reflects herself to be, and as a big joke, they get countercharm which allows them to perform and their allies get advantage when someone attempts to charm them. yeah. anyway mitsuru’s a bard. next.

for fuuka, i took more inspiration from her persona and how it encloses around her while she does her work to come up with an abjuration wizard. the school of abjuration specializes in protection and banishment spells, with outsiders believing it to be a specialization in denial and negation but truly being about ending harm and protecting the weak, which represent fuuka’s character and her bullying arc well. this class is mostly just what it says on the tin; they specialize in closing portals and rifts to other worlds, performing exorcisms, and securing locations that are too important to allowed equally magical wandering eyes and ears from engaging with. it’s also a high intelligence based class, which fits fuuka well. since she’s also a wizard, which gets virtually no hp and also no armor, so she needs to be protected, which everyone should want to protect her lmao.

aigis, for one, is a warforged in terms of races in dnd since they’re the robot race that only act on the goal they are given, But that’s just a side point to the main point of classes, which way of the kensei monk is definitely her. kensei monks train so extensively with their weapons that they become an extension of themselves, with aigis’s without a doubt being firearms due to her robotic nature already making them a literal extension of herself. they’re speedy and precise, both of which fit aigis and her programming to be the best combat unit, as kensei focus almost exclusively on dps output and the ability to just deal as much damage in one hit. unerring accuracy is also a feat kensei monks get, which allows them to reroll any attack they miss and again, really hones in on the combat robot thing aigis has going on.

now i know some of you probably went ‘are they gonna class assign koromaru’ and let me tell you i’m not going to cause 1 you wouldn’t be able to play him anyway in the theoretical sense, but also he’s usually seen as a companion to either ken or shinjiro, so he fits more as a companion animal that you see some classes get like rangers or druids. usually these animals survive as long as their owners lifespan and get extra health and sometimes magic so koromaru is a-okay in fighting still.

now for someone who i’m very excited to talk about: ken. being hellbent on revenge is actually a class in dnd! it’s called the vengeance paladin, which is a paladin whose oath revolves around singlehandedly bringing “evildoers” to justice, though what this justice is would be defined by the individual paladin’s definition of morality and their own vendetta. even in their basic description, oath of vengeance defines anyone who takes it as someone who sees their purity not being as important as the concept of delivering justice where justice is due, which fits not only ken’s theme as the justice arcana, but overall his entire relationship with shinjiro (which. oh boy paladin shinjiro and paladin ken parallels?). paladins get martial weapons which means ken gets his lance he uses, and on their spell list they get hunter’s mark, letting them mark targets to deal more damage. one another thing i want to bring attention to is their 7th level class feature, relentless avenger, which essentially makes it so any enemy that provokes an attack of opportunity can’t truly escape because the vengeance paladin can immediately take half their movement speed to follow after said enemy as apart of their reaction, which i think pretty easily describes the october 4th scene if you know what i mean.

and finally i’m saving the best for last cause i wanna talk about shinjiro. picture this: shinjiro’s a big tanky knight meant to service the people and protect them but a stray spell one day kills an innocent woman and suddenly he’s failed the one thing he swore his life to. giving up his oath, shinjiro turns into an oathbreaker paladin, a paladin who in someway shape or form has broken their sacred oath and now walks a darker path. now oathbreakers, while being stereotypically written as “evil”, don’t have to be evil themselves; being an oathbreaker pretty much is what it says on the tin, with them having failed to fulfill their oath’s rules in some way shape or form. breaking his own moral code and also abandoning his affiliation with sees pretty much solidifies shinjiro as an oathbreaker with him not necessarily being a bad person cause we all know he’s not. oathbreakers get things such as channel divinity: dreadful aspect, which lets them channel their anger into an intense magical intimidation, and paladins themselves are the only class to get the find steed spell, which fits castor’s horse riding-ness. they also get martial weapons and heavy armor, making shinjiro a big tank with an even bigger axe just like he likes to be. as a bonus thing, shinjiro Definitely has the tavern brawler feat (which gives unarmed strikes a hit die rather than a flat 1 damage) so he can wrestle with akihiko

BONUS: chidori’s a life cleric. her entire fountain of life or whatever the thing her persona does right next to her white gothic lolita aesthetic fit her as a life cleric. Or she could be a grave cleric with an atypical aesthetic, but then again, theres been pastel goth grave clerics before too.

BONUS x2: my friend and i had 2 ideas for ryoji while throwing ideas for this whole list around: death cleric, which is yknow, pretty straight forward..... OR deathlock great old one. deathlocks are specifically enemy warlocks that have been brought back from the dead by their patron because they believe that the warlocks job hasnt been done yet, and well, nyx i think counts as a great old one patron.

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ohgoddard · 4 years

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Fist of Fire.2.14.

AN: Hard Topics in this chapter.

Loud rock music blasted out from headphones atop Riley’s head as she laced up her skates. Her hands were shaking, but this was not out of nerves or anticipation.

Riley was angry. Her breathing was short and quick, and her skin was taking on a reddening hue. Other women in the locker room of which Riley was lacing up were eyeing her up, whispering to each other.

I’ve never seen her like that. She’s not usually this mad. Think her boyfriend dumped her? Oh I don’t think she swings that way.

Riley turned quickly to the gathering of which was discussing her attitudes, and glared at them.

The group quickly disappeared into the rink, almost tripping over each other. Riley turned back to lacing up her skates, trying her best to still her shaking hands.

It was nothing new to her. Especially at this rink. They would always talk behind her back, snidely putting her down for who she was. Normally Riley would ignore it, then when the derby games started would then lay out the girls who talked bad about her into the ground.

But today Riley was fuming. It was a rage she had been hiding, suppressing, fueled by a hatred.

Hundreds had died at Charleston. It would have been more had Riley and her class not been there helping others escape.

Could have been a lot less too.

Reverse had always drilled into them a strong moral code one must follow to be a hero. “You are safe when everyone is safe.” Riley could not allow herself to be safe, as she could have easily run away from the disaster, if others were still in danger.

However she was not a professional hero yet. She was a teenager. She could only do so much. So when Reverse delivered the second largest punch in American History, she was lucky to be outside the Stadium carrying a civilian to safety. But she knew there were more. More in that Stadium who she could have saved. But she couldn’t, because she was not fast enough.

Thats the rage Riley now uses to fuel herself in Roller Derby games. The rage at herself. How she could have saved tens, no dozens more had she had just been faster. Ruler messes up a knot on her skates, curses, and begins to untie them. She feels like such a hypocrite, preaching to Jade about how nothing she could have done would have changed the outcome of Reverse’s fight. How she needs to stop putting the blame of his death on herself. Such words rang hollow on her own ears.

Riley pulled hard on her hand wraps, enough that it hurt. Her face did not betray any emotion, it was stone cold. Another woman came skating in, “Kim, we’re up in two.” Riley nodded and the woman skated away. Riley, while comforting Jade in her perceived failure, had actually failed what she set out to do. Riley had wanted to save everyone in that Stadium. What had happened was, Riley saved a quarter of what she perceived as everyone.

Riley strapped on her knee and elbow guards.

Every life lost is because I was not quick enough. Every life I did save was not enough.

She put on her helmet and skated to the gate.

I failed them.

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School had opened up again for the students involved in the Charleston Incident. Reverse, however, was not back in the school yet. Instead there was a sub in the form of the coach Reverse hired for afterschool practice. Riley stumbled into class, legs and arms obscured with a jacket and jeans. Her face was fortunately clean of blemishes. Upon walking into her Hero Combat class, everyone turned to face her. At once dozens of question barraged her, asking about the Stadium. Riley put on her face she always wore, one of a suave and cool chick who could face anything.

Behind her mask she was cringing and crying from what they asked. “Did you see what the villain could do? So cool!” “Did you see what happened to Reverse?” “Wow! You’re like totally a hero now!” “You’re so lucky! I’d give anything to be where you were.”

Would you? Would you give anything to be where I was? Terrified and desperately trying to rescue all I could before the hit landed on Emesh?

Riley smirked, “Yeah it was pretty cool. But I’m glad i’m back here.”

The sub called for everyone to come back to their seats, giving Riley a respite in the questioning. She shuffled to her desk, and very painfully sat within it. The derby last night had been painful, the team she was facing were a good 10 years older and three times as strong as she was. And due, to the no powers rule, she could not outpace her opponents. She was made to be slow, and paid the price for not being faster.

I deserved it. If I were faster..

Riley drifted throughout the day, not really living in any of her classes. She would just blankly stare into the front of the class, the teachings going into one ear and out the other. Riley only felt the throbbing pains in her arms and legs, a grim reminder of her inability. When lunch came, she sat with the Hero Combat Team like she always did. The table was crowded in dozens of people, asking their invading questions and poking their noses into their lives. She thought at least Emily would be soaking in the popularity, but instead Riley saw her across the lunchroom at her own table yelling at her old friends. Then, in an even larger move of surprise, got up and moved to the Team table, sitting next to Ricardo.

The move of Emily to the table had caused the people crowding them like piranhas to dissipate instantly. And with their absence, the table was dead quiet. The only sounds made were the wrinkling of plastics and elbows on tables where heads were soon placed. There was almost a visible depression resonating within all of them. No one else seemed to see it, those who weren’t there. Those who hadn’t seen what they had seen.

“I am so tired with this school.” Emily spoke with a vindication that was not unheard of from her, but was usually directed at one of them. “They keep talking about how cool it must have been. How they wish they could have seen it.” Emily looked down, her hair obscuring her face. “Don’t they know? Don’t they know that we could have died? That we save hundreds of people who did just that?!” The table could hear a faint choke in her voice. Ricardo put his hand on her back and she fell into his arms. A soft sob could be heard.

Everyone has it. The whole team. Not just me and Jade.

Ricardo had huge bags under his eyes, and numerous bandages at his fingertips. He has been pushing himself harder. John has knee braces and his arm in a sling. He still hasn’t recovered from the injuries at the stadium. Grace, the often overlooked member of the team, had long since laid her head on the table. The whole group was broken.

After school, Riley was walking to her dorm, and was jumped on by Jade. Jade gave her a huge bear hug, which caused deep tendrils of pain to shoot up her arms. Riley had to stifle any sign of pain within her voice and face as she spoke, “Hey there whats all this for?” Jade looked up to Riley, a large puff of red hair bouncing as she did so. “Don’t you remember? We’re watching a movie tonight. I thought we could go to dinner first.” Riley smiled, although under her mask she cringed.

I don’t deserve this. I can’t sit there next to you and act happy. Don’t look at me with your trusting eyes, I am a failure. Don’t say I saved you, I couldn’t save anyone.

“Riley?” Jade’s question shook Riley out of her stupor, her focusing regaining. “Oh yeah!” Jade stopped hugging Riley, which sent a wave of relief through her. “Is something wrong? You seem off today.” Riley swallowed. “Well, you know, first day back after the whole debacle. Just trying to adjust you know? Ha ha.” Riley was sweating. She always was a terrible liar.

“Hm, well if you say so. I have to go to tutoring, but i’ll be by your dorm around 7, ok?”

Riley sighed internally.

“Ok! I’ll start tidying up haha.”

When Jade had left, Riley entered her dorm room and fell onto her bed.

I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve her.

When Jade had gotten on the bus on their way back to Atlanta, Riley knew something was wrong. And she would not let that wrongness stand. She put others before her. That's how she’s always done. So when she gave her support to Jade in her room those days ago, she had considered the problem solved. But then there was no one else she could focus on but herself.

Riley never had to focus on herself before. It was always for someone or something else. Now, when she was left alone with her thoughts, it was nothing but clouded shadows.

She stood from her bed and looked around, making sure the coast was clear. She then reached under he bed and took out a slim box. She retracted one of the objects.

The door swung open, Jade walking in speaking. “Tutoring was cancelled today, so I thought I’d come by earlier! So what do you-”

Jade stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Riley holding a shaving razor to her arm.

The only noise heard was the soft clinking of metal as it hit the floor, falling from a stunned Riley's hand.

Jade slammed the door. “NO.NO YOU DO NOT.” Jade rushed forward in the small dorm room and grabbed the box of razors from Riley’s bed, Riley lunging for them. Jade snatched them out of reach and threw them behind her. Riley looked up at Jade, and saw that she was fuming.

“Why.” The word was given not as a question, more as a command. Riley looked away.

“Why, Riley?” She still remained silent. Jade sat down next to her. “Please. Why?”

Riley turned, “Because it made me feel not worthless! Ok?! It made me feel like maybe all those people I couldn’t save didn’t die in vain. That maybe if I feel a fraction of their pain I might be able to reconcile some of the guilt I feel for choosing to save another over them. I had to run by so many people trapped under rubble of the collapsing building, having to choose who I had to save.”

Riley stood up, her face turning red.

“So many called out to me as I ran by with people draped over my shoulders. ‘Please help me.’ ‘Please I have a family.’ ‘Please save me.’ And I could have, Jade. I could have saved them if I was. Just. FASTER!” Riley Slammed the back of her fist into the wall behind her, making a sizable dent.

“I deserve this pain! Its nothing compared to them! They gave it all and I was left over. I -”

Riley was slapped in the face by Jade, stopping her train of thought and speech instantly.

“How DARE you say you deserve pain. Do you know how many people you have saved? How many people got to go home to their family? This was your first time doing literally anything of this caliber and you start hurting yourself because it did not go how you thought it would?”

“You don’t understand I-”

“I AM NOT DONE. You know that not even All-Might can save everyone? The fact you saved over 70 people should be extraordinary. You cannot be out here judging yourself by what you haven’t done, but instead by what you have. Yes, the lives of those lost is a loss to the world. But to hurt yourself? That is to ruin their names. “

“THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!”

“PUT THAT ANGER INTO THE MEN WHO CAUSED THIS MESS, NOT THE WOMAN WHO DID HER BEST TO SAVE PEOPLE FROM IT!”

Riley was silent. Jade was breathing deeply in front of her, eyes red from tearing up.

“When you came to my home, Riley, you stopped me from… from something very bad. You made me realize that I shouldn’t be beating myself up. That's what they would want.”

Jade grabbed Riley’s hands.

“We can’t let them win. So don’t give them a win.”

#FoF:og #creative writing #creativewriting #creative #original #original writing #original story #originalwriting #orignal female character #writing #superhero #superhero story

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the-desolated-quill · 5 years

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We Need To Talk About James Gunn - Quill’s Scribbles

This could prove to be the most controversial Scribble I’ve ever written on this blog, and the sad thing is it really shouldn’t be, in my opinion.

First off, a couple of disclaimers because I know some people are going to accuse me of ‘bias’. I’ve never been very fond of James Gunn as a filmmaker, it’s true. I thought the first Guardians Of The Galaxy movie was okay at best and I absolutely hated the sequel, but I confess that’s less to do with any inherent flaws in the films themselves and more to do with the fact that I just don’t like Gunn’s style of humour. Oh don’t get me wrong. There are still legitimate problems, which I’ll go into later when they become relevant, but I’m big enough to admit that my dislike for his brand of comedy and storytelling is merely due to my own subjective tastes (the same is true of Taika Waititi and Thor: Ragnarok).

Okay. So. Let’s talk about James Gunn.

As I’m sure most of you know, in July 2018, an alt-right conspiracy theorist called Mike Cernovich unearthed tweets made by Gunn between 2008 and 2012 where he made offensive jokes and remarks about sensitive topics such as rape, child abuse and paedophilia. While James Gunn did apologise and vowed to ‘do better,’ Disney, fearing the public backlash, fired Gunn as director of Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 3 and dismissed him from any role in producing and expanding Marvel’s planned ‘Cosmic Universe.’ The result was the public backlash Disney were trying to avoid in the first place. They received a lot of criticism from various entertainers and filmmakers, as well as many media outlets such as Collider and The Independent, the cast of Guardians wrote a letter urging Disney to reconsider their decision with Dave Bautista in particular being very vocal in his criticism, and there was a massive outcry from fans who petitioned for Gunn to be rehired. Guy Lodge, writing for The Guardian, asked the question ‘Was James Gunn the first undeserving victim of Hollywood’s new zero tolerance policy?’ Now I’d argue the answer to that question is a definitive no, but apparently, and surprisingly, that’s not a very popular opinion among liberals. So I’d very much like to challenge them as we explore James Gunn’s moral character and ask ourselves why he’s being defended so passionately.

Before we go any further, I think it would be a good idea for me to show you some of the tweets that we’re talking about, just to remind everyone what we’re dealing with here.

Now I hope we can all agree that this is objectively disgusting. Only an amoral, depraved and utterly moronic individual would find offensive tweets like these even remotely funny. But I should make it clear that, by James Gunn’s own admission, these tweets represent who he was rather than who he is. In his apology, he described himself as a ‘provocateur’ during the early days of his career, making shocking statements for the purposes of ‘satire.’ But it’s okay because he’s a better person who has grown and matured fully and will never do this again. Fair enough, you’d think. He admitted what he did was wrong and apologised profusely. That was a very honourable and decent thing to do.

Except we’ve seen this song and dance before.

In 2012, roundabout when Marvel announced they were making a Guardians Of The Galaxy movie with James Gunn directing, an old blog post of Gunn’s resurfaced entitled ‘The 50 Superheroes You Most Want To Have Sex With.’ The original post has since been deleted, but cached versions still exist here and there around the internet if you know where to look. Here are a few quotes from said blog:

[on natasha romanoff, the highest ~debut] “considering she’s fucked half the guys in the marvel universe, that’s quite a feat”

[on batwoman] “i’m hoping for a dc-marvel crossover so that tony stark can turn her; she could also have sex with nightwing and still be a lesbian”

”Many of the people who voted for the Flash were gay men. I have no idea why this is. But I do know if I was going to get fucked in the butt I too would want it to be by someone who would get it over with quick.”

Needless to say, this was quite offensive and causing bad PR, so James Gunn issued an apology:

“A couple of years ago I wrote a blog that was meant to be satirical and funny. In rereading it over the past day I don’t think it’s funny. The attempted humor in the blog does not represent my actual feelings. However, I can see where statements were poorly worded and offensive to many. I’m sorry and regret making them at all.

People who are familiar with me as evidenced by my Facebook page and other mediums know that I’m an outspoken proponent for the rights of the gay and lesbian community, women and anyone who feels disenfranchised, and it kills me that some other outsider like myself, despite his or her gender or sexuality, might feel hurt or attacked by something I said. We’re all in the same camp, and I want to do my best to make this world a better place for all of us. I’m learning all the time. I promise to be more careful with my words in the future. And I will do my best to be funnier as well. Much love to all – James”

Sound familiar?

Now of course it’s unfair to judge the man based on past actions that he himself apologised for. What matters is the present. Whether or not he has demonstrated to a reasonable standard that his work has grown and matured and that his offensive idiocy is a thing of the past. So let’s look at the Guardians Of The Galaxy movies.

While the first movie received critical acclaim, a few people (particularly fans of the source material) complained about how Gamora was treated. The so called ‘most powerful woman in the galaxy’ was reduced to a love interest, an occasional damsel in distress and there were a few odd occasions where she was objectified and degraded based on her sexual history. The most prominent example of which is when Drax describes her as ‘a green whore.’ The context being that he was ignorant of how offensive he was being despite trying to compliment her and call her a friend, and this was played for laughs in the movie. The second movie has more examples. Gamora’s role still paled in comparison to the role she played in the comics, and a new female character called Mantis was introduced whose power level from the comics was also significantly reduced for the movie and whose character was effectively reduced to be a punchline/punching bag. There’s also a scene involving Drax where he frequently describes her as ugly, saying that "when you're ugly and someone loves you, you know they love you for who you are. Beautiful people never know who to trust." Again this is played for laughs. Except I’d argue that an adult man constantly fixating on a woman’s appearance isn’t even remotely funny.

Another disturbing aspect of the Guardians 2 was the way it seemed to romanticise and excuse abusive relationships. Obviously there’s Drax and Mantis, but the biggest example is Star Lord and Yondu. The first movie did a reasonably good job establishing what drew Star Lord and Gamora together. They were both trying to escape from abusive father figures. The second film does a complete U-turn, calling Yondu Star Lord’s ‘David Hasselhoff’ and giving him a gratuitous and overly sentimental funeral as though he were a noble hero. While I’m sure the death of Yondu would emotionally impact Star Lord to a certain extent (he did raise the kid after all), to say that he’s like ‘David Hasselhoff’ because he’s a better dad than Ego the Living Planet was seems like a very low bar to clear. By that logic, Hitler was a good person because he didn’t kill as many people as Stalin did. It’s tone deaf, lacking in nuance and just a little bit insulting.

Bearing all this in mind, has James Gunn grown and matured since the period between 2008 and 2012? That’s for you to judge. I’d personally argue he hasn’t. Sure he’s no longer as extreme or provocative as he once was, but that’s not necessarily proof that he’s matured. Rather he’s just gotten better at hiding his immaturity. And in my own subjective opinion, based on his work, I think Disney made the right decision in sacking him. Now let me be clear, I don’t think Disney sacked him in order to take a moral stand as a lot of the problematic elements in the Guardians films have carried over into other MCU films. Gamora is still treated like shit in Avengers: Infinity War, and Thanos, who, like Yondu, was clearly established in the first Guardians movie as an abusive father figure, has been woobified and turned into a kind of sympathetic anti villain who actually cared about his daughter and only killed her because he had no other choice (as opposed to, you know, because he is a maniacal despot who’s a few Oompa Loompas short of a chocolate factory). The reason Gunn was fired was because of bad PR. Disney had dealt with this shit before in 2012 and they weren’t prepared to deal with it again, so they dropped the baggage, as it were. It’s a very common occurrence in Hollywood. Which is what makes the public backlash against this decision so puzzling to me.

I can understand being upset that the director of your favourite franchise has been fired, but can we try to get some perspective here? What happened to Gunn is nothing unique. This kind of thing happens all the time. A filmmaker does something controversial or has been revealed to have done something controversial in the past, the studio sacks them in an attempt to save face and everyone gets on with their lives. The situation with James Gunn is no different. The only reason I can see why people are so passionately against this is because of how these tweets were unearthed in the first place. Because the discoverer of the tweets, Mike Cernovich, is a member of the alt-right, the liberal community seem predisposed to dismiss this out of hand, which I think is incredibly dangerous. Okay, yes, Cernovich is a Nazi and almost certainly didn’t do this out of the goodness of his heart, but even a broken clock is right twice a day. It doesn’t change the fact that the tweets still exist and that they’re still incredibly offensive. And all the things I’ve heard people say in defence of James Gunn sound very similar to things the right would say about the likes of Brett Cavanaugh and Donald Trump. ‘It was x number of years ago.’ ‘It’s not relevant to who he is now.’ ‘He’s changed.’ ‘You can’t judge someone based on their past mistakes.’ I mean... come on guys! Either everyone should be held to the same standard or nobody should be held to standards at all. You can’t just change tact just because the person in question has the same political ideals as you. What are we saying? It’s okay for liberals to hold conservatives accountable for past actions and behaviour, but the right can’t do it to the left because apparently it’s not as funny when they do it? It’s classic ‘them and us’ mentality and it’s got to stop.

So, why am I bringing all this up, you may be asking? This happened over six months ago Quill. Aren’t you a little late to the party? Well a couple of days ago, it was announced that Warner Bros and DC Films had hired James Gunn to write and direct a sequel to Suicide Squad.

Well... sequel isn’t quite the right word. Apparently it’s more along the lines of a reimagining. Titled ‘The Suicide Squad’, the film is going to follow a whole new cast of characters and effectively start from scratch. No doubt this is part of WB and DC’s attempts to salvage the DC Extended Universe after the critical and financial disaster that was Justice League, as well as a response to people’s criticisms of the previous Suicide Squad film.

Writer/director David Ayer’s version of Suicide Squad was... let’s be charitable and call it problematic. Many people criticised the film for being misogynistic, borderline racist due to the one dimensional characterisation, and particular outrage was directed toward Ayer’s attempts to romanticise the relationship between the Joker and Harley Quinn. So it’s quite ironic that WB and DC are relying on James Gunn - James Gunn?!?! - to fix Suicide Squad when similar criticisms have been made toward the Guardians Of The Galaxy movies. That’s like hiring Harvey Weinstein to investigate sexual harassment claims.

And do you know what the funny thing is? We’ve been in this exact same situation before. In February 2017, news media started to report that WB and DC were eyeing Mel Gibson, the Oscar nominated director of Hawksaw Ridge and professional arsehole, to direct Suicide Squad 2. I even wrote a Scribble on it then. I heavily criticised WB and DC for caring more about snagging an Oscar nominated director to bolster their failing franchise than about holding certain ethical standards of decency within the industry. Oh, sure, Gibson has said many sexist, homophobic and antisemitic comments for years and has never at any point showed any hint of remorse for the amount of offence he’s caused, but he just made a good movie about Spider-Man fighting in World War II, so it all balances out, doesn’t it? We’re good, right? We’re cool. Gibson’s cool now. Yeah?

And now here we are seeing this play out again. James Gunn, a man who has said some incredibly offensive things over the years, is being hired by WB and DC to helm a new Suicide Squad movie and conveniently ignoring all the problematic shit surrounding him because he’s the guy that made those sci-fi films about the talking raccoon. People love those films. Let’s get him on board.

I’m getting so sick to death of actors and filmmakers getting away with shit and avoiding the consequences of their actions. James Gunn and his offensive tweets, Mel Gibson and his shitty behaviour, Kevin Hart and his temper tantrum when he was expected to apologise for being a homophobic prick. And the few times there are consequences for said actions, people of influence within the industry end up undermining it. WB and DC hiring James Gunn so soon after he was sacked by Disney, and Ellen fucking Degeneres ringing the Academy and persuading them to let Kevin Hart host the Oscars. Thankfully, and to his genuine credit, Hart turned it down, but seriously, what the actual fuck Ellen?! You’re LGBT, aren’t you? Why are you giving him a free pass? Do you have short term memory loss like the fish you voice in Finding fucking Nemo? Jesus Christ!

Finally, to people saying that Disney treated James Gunn too harshly for the tweets, may I remind you that when ‘The 50 Superheroes You Most Want To Have Sex With’ resurfaced in 2012, Disney still kept him on! He still got to write and direct two Marvel movies before finally getting the sack. And he was in talks to lead production in all future ‘Cosmic’ Marvel movies going forward before the resurfaced tweets made that impossible. Too harshly? I think he got off extremely lightly, frankly. I think he’s grotesquely lucky he’s still got a job at all. Let alone a job where he continues to direct tentpole blockbusters. For someone who was treated ‘too harshly’, he’s sure done alright for himself, hasn’t he? He’s not Oliver Twist begging movie studios to give him a film, cap in hand, ‘please sir, may I have some more?’ His position hasn’t changed one iota. That’s what we should be pissed off at. Not that he’s being unfairly punished. That he’s not being punished enough roughly seven years after the fact.

So what should we take away from all this? That we need to hold everyone accountable for their past actions and behaviour, regardless of whether they share our political beliefs or whether they were involved in films we actually like, and that the industry needs to do a better job of upholding the consequences of said actions. And regardless of whether you thought Disney were right to sack James Gunn, it cannot be denied that WB and DC handing the keys of another profitable franchise over to him so soon after this controversy is an incredibly irresponsible thing to do.

#anti james gunn #suicide squad #the suicide squad #guardians of the galaxy #dc extended universe #marvel cinematic universe #disney #quill's scribbles

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