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deripmaver · 3 years

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laurent is a good person - book 1 meta

one of the most amazing things about captive prince is how the reveals in book 3 recontextualize all of the scenes leading up to them, including about laurent himself. in book one, all we see is damen pov as he’s being abused and humiliated by this supposedly spoiled, vile ice prince. when the regent comes to damen and subtly (and not so subtly) insults laurent, calling him unfit to rule - well, why would he think anything different? laurent has insulted him, had him whipped within an inch of his life, and even attempted to (and later successfully lmfao) have him raped while drugged out of his mind.

after book 3 we can reread most if not all of book 1 as a very traumatized boy who has finally been confronted with the man who killed his brother, leaving him alone with his abusive uncle, and who he clearly has made into a complete monster in his own mind. damen of course sees him as a complete bitch, but there’s textual/subtextual evidence that laurent is well liked, and that his behavior during book 1 was actually pretty out of character for him. i’d like to provide some examples of that now!!!!

“Laurent had stopped dead the moment he had seen Damen, his face turning white as though in reaction to a slap, or an insult. Damen’s view, half-truncated by the short chain at this neck, had been enough to see that. But Laurent’s expression had shuttered quickly.” Captive Prince, Chapter One

i couldn’t resist adding this one in hehe. laurent recognizes damen!! he’s come down, knowing his uncle has devised another truly horrendous and triggering “gift” and that he’ll lose support if he calls it our for what it truly is, only to find out that it’s fucking damianos of akielos sent to him as a sex slave. a jab at laurent’s trauma about auguste and also a jab at laurent’s frigid sexuality - which ofc is completely the regent’s fault. fuck that guy so much lmfao

“‘It’s so rare to see you at these entertainments, Your Highness,’ said Vannes.” Captive Prince, Chapter Two.

this is right before the fight between govart and damen in the ring, of course. damen sees laurent as depraved and vile as the sexual sadism on display by the veretian court, and considers him to be a willing purveyor of it. this is wrong, of course, as said by vannes here. laurent has only shown up because he wants to humiliate damen lmfao.

“He did remember being supported by two of the guards, here, in this room, while Radel stared athis back in horror. ‘The Prince really . . . did this.’ ‘Who else?’ Damen said. Radel had stepped forward, and slapped Damen across the face; it was a hard slap, and the man wore three rings on each finger. ‘What did you do to him?’ Radel demanded.” Captive Prince, Chapter Four

this scene, to me, was the most telling lmfao. it’s right after damen is whipped. you could argue that radel is just a servant in the employ of the royal household, so is of course going to be loyal to the prince, but he seems genuinely surprised of the prince’s cruelty towards damen. not only that, but he slaps him and immediately assumes damen must have done something. which - i mean, technically he did lmao. not necessarily enough to deserve having the skin flayed from his back, but you know. if laurent was in the habit of torturing pets and slaves, why would the overseer react this way?

“The men guarding him were the Prince’s Guard, and had no affiliation with the Regent whatsoever. It surprised Damen how loyal they were to their Prince, and how diligent in his service, airing none of the grudges and complaints that he might have expected, considering Laurent’s noxious personality. Laurent’s feud with his uncle they took up wholeheartedly; there were deep schisms and rivalries between the Prince’s Guard and the Regent’s Guard, apparently.” Captive Prince, Chapter Four

laurents relationships with his guards are also some of the biggest indicators that he isn’t just a spoiled brat, but can insire a deep loyalty in his men. even if they do all want to fuck him. ah, sexual harassment. it’s also hilarious that damen immediately assumes they’re loyal to him because they want to fuck him - nice projection there, dude. we know a bit more about laurent and his guards thanks to green but for a season, but this little bit here is interesting.

“Laurent was indeed good at talking. He accepted sympathy gracefully. He put his position rationally. He stopped the flow of talk when it became dangerously critical of his uncle. He said nothing that could be taken as an open slight on the Regency. Yet no one who talked to him could have any doubt that his uncle was behaving at best misguidedly and at worst treasonously.” Captive Prince, Chapter Five

idek what to say here. laurent my beloved <3333

“‘When someone doesn’t like you very much, it isn’t a good idea to let them know that you care about something,’ said Laurent. Damen felt himself turn ashen, as the threat sank in. ‘Would it hurt worse than a lashing for me to cut down someone you care for?’ said Laurent.” Captive Prince, Chapter Seven

this isn’t really relevant to my thesis lmfao i just love this exchange bc it gives SO MUCH information about laurent and his uncle in just three lines of dialogue. what has the regent done, who did he cut down just to hurt laurent? when and how did laurent learn that? p a i n

“Laurent’s fussy horse began acting out again, and he leaned forward in the saddle, murmuring something as he stroked her neck in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture to quiet her.” Captive Prince, Chapter Nine.

HORSEY NO- lmfao this scene just hurts so badly on the reread. especially later on, in book 3 i think, where laurent says something like “i provoked my uncle.” he’s really blaming himself for his uncle KILLING HIS HORSE, his horse that his murdered brother trained, one of the only living connections to auguste... all because his uncle could not let a single miniscule plan laurent had set go through without some kind of repercussion. literally all laurent did was do something to stop an innocent group of people from being abused, nothing to undermine his uncle’s rule, but because the regent is VILE he could not let laurent have even this. he’s so good with her, too. he must have known by this point and also known that there was no way to stop this. P A I N

“‘I know that you have somehow arranged this,’ said Erasmus. He was incapable of hiding what he felt, and just seemed to radiate embarrassed happiness. ‘You kept your promise. You and your master. I told you he was kind,’ Erasmus said. ‘You did,’ said Damen. He was pleased to see Erasmus happy. Whatever Erasmus believed about Laurent, Damen wasn’t going to dissuade him. ‘He’s even nicer in person. Did you know he came and talked to me?’ said Erasmus. ‘—He did?’ said Damen. It was something he couldn’t imagine. ‘He asked about . . . what happened in the gardens. Then he warned me. About last night.’ ‘He warned you,’ said Damen. ‘He said that Nicaise would make me perform before the court and it would be awful, but that if I was brave, something good might come at the end of it.’ Erasmus looked up at Damen curiously. ‘Why do you look surprised?’ ‘I don’t know. I shouldn’t be. He likes to plan things in advance,’ said Damen.” Captive Prince, Chapter 9.

this is the first in-text confirmation we have that laurent has a good heart beneath his layers and layers of trauma-induced lashing out. book one often skeeves people out because of its graphic and, honestly, yes, kind of sexualized depiction of rape, slavery, and depravity, but beneath it all you meet these two protagonists who are going to have all of their most deeply held views about each other challenged. laurent from very early on is shaken to his core when damen refuses to rape nicaise in the ring - it cracks the very foundations of the person he’d built up in his head as this horrible monster who killed his brother in cold blood. and damen keeps defying laurents expectations by being a good person through and through. on the other hand, laurent spends the first part of the book taking out years of anger on damen, but here for the first time we see him do something just because its the kind thing to do. yes, torveld is an ally against his uncle, but laurent has clearly been scheming with him for a while now, and he’s now overlooking his hatred of damen and working with him just because none of the slaves deserve whats happened to them. it’s such a sweet moment.

“One of the other men, eyeing them, approached a moment later. ‘Don’t mind Jean. He’s in a foul mood. He was the one had to stick a sword through the mare’s throat and put her down. The Prince tore strips off him for not doing it fast enough.’” Captive Prince, Chapter Nine.

HORSEY NO- pt 2. this is just another really sweet and sad detail - laurent being so upset that the horse’s death could have been more painless. it must have hurt so much to see her in pain, and to know that the only way for that pain to end was being put down as quickly as possible. i wuv him. im sad

that’s it, though there are still a few more chapters left in the book. this isn’t providing any new information, of course, the path of the three books is to show that laurent isnt the man we meet in book one, that he’s actually sweet, and earnest, and he’s been fighting his own battle practically alone against his abuser since he was fifteen years old. also, the reveal that laurent knew who damianos was from the start makes it clear imo that all of his violence in book 1 was supposed vengence, not... him being evil. he apologizes explicitly in-text, and also, all of the acts of violence he commits cause serious problems for him in terms of his future alliance which he then needs to fix. i just love how layered these books are, how there’s so much information in them that makes rereading almost more fun than reading them for the very first time!

#Captive Prince #captive prince meta #damen x laurent #Laurent of Vere #Damianos of Akielos

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inhonoredglory · 3 years

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Run Away from Me: A Levi Meta

The core of this meta is to show that, IMHO, Levi’s violence against Historia in Chapter 56 is his emotional fallout from the torture of Sannes, as well as his own guilt at the person he had become. Coming from having only watched the anime, I personally found this placement in the manga of the Historia scene right after both the torture sequence and the Reeves Company alliance as incredibly meaningful, especially for Levi’s character and his emotional journey.

Levi is an immensely compassionate person, someone who wants to aspire to the “unimaginably altruistic” life of Erwin Smith (Isayama, SNK Encyclopedia). So how would this torture he had to inflict affect him? Because imagine for a second: This is the man who was the only one to truly react with horror and sadness at the knowledge that they’d been killing human beings all this time when they fought Titans. This is the man who went out of his way to ally with the Reeves Company in order to answer the Trost townspeople’s woes:

In Chapter 53, Levi is confronted with blatantly disrespectful Trost merchants who think the Survey Corps haven’t done enough to save their town. It’s the everyday things that burden these people—taxes, thieves, putting food on the table. Levi doesn’t once shoot back at them for their criticism. Instead, he listens. And then he spots a woman at the side of a merchant’s stall. She’s holding a baby and her eyes burn into Levi’s. She holds his attention while above him, the merchants continue their tirade. I think Levi’s thinking of his mother here: like this woman, she was a single parent raising a child in a city that is not unlike Trost now, a town abandoned and forgotten by society, poor and struggling. That child reminds Levi of himself, and this time, Levi can do something about it.

This is why Levi goes out of his way to ally with the Reeves Company. Levi and Dimo share a long, deep conversation, demonstrating that Levi’s alliance with them is more personal than merely the company’s strategic value. Dimo Reeves called Levi an “awkward yet kind man.” He goes on the say that Levi will “protect us and the barely-alive District of Trost, even though he doesn’t really have to.” This is Levi answering that townsperson’s accusation that “you in the Survey Corps aren’t working hard enough.” Levi entrusts to the Reeves Company the responsibility to bring the town out of poverty in the new world the SC will create. That’s his compassion, that’s his care, that’s his humility. That’s how he values the lives of people, not just by defeating Titans, but valuing their livelihoods. “A man like that must have come from absolutely nothing,” concludes Dimo.

This is the same Levi we find torturing Sannes.

In Chapter 55, the torture of Sannes happens because of the horrors Hange saw inflicted on Minister Nick. It is Hange’s passion for avenging Nick that drives the torture sequence, their anger at the tortures that had happened under the MP’s First Squad that motivates the payback inflicted by Hange and Levi. Levi’s violence is done, not out of his own desire, but primarily Hange’s. This is not to say that Levi was guiltless or without responsibility for Sannes’s torture; on the contrary, his actions weigh heavily on him, as will be discussed. But it’s interesting to note that out of all the tortures they did, breaking Sannes’ nose was the only retribution all Levi’s own (in reaction to Sannes’ justification of a series of horrific things the MPs had committed).

I also find it relevant that after everything they had done to Sannes, Levi was still visibly shocked at Hange’s overreaction to Sannes’ hesitation to answer their first real question. Because in Levi’s mind, everything they had done up to that point wasn’t torture—in one sense. It was instead a like-for-like payback for the horrors Sannes had inflicted on Nick. Note that it was Levi who had to pull Hange out of the emotional distraction of Nick’s death in Chapter 52, the same emotional distraction that drives Hange to overzealous violence here.

There’s an interesting parallel in what happens next with what Levi had gone through with Annie earlier. Levi threatened Annie with torture of her real body and said he enjoyed intimidating her as she was bound and trapped. Sannes confessed that for him, he enjoyed violence and tormenting the helpless—so why should he complain if these torturers, Hange and Levi, are the same as him? It’s a subtle parallel, but it’s a relevant theme in SNK that everyone, on all sides, are devils and monsters. Or as Sannes says later, “The world will always have people like us.” People who are violent, people who are lunatics, people who condemn themselves and get their hands dirty for the sake of some higher “good.” Sannes’ accusation isn’t lost on Levi, because this is the same Levi who looked at a struggling mother in a forsaken city and did something about it.

Justified violence is still violence. So what if Annie deserved to have her limbs cut off, time and time again, without relief of death? So what if Sannes deserves to have his fingernails torn off, one by one, without even a question put to him? They had, after all, inflicted death and untold horrors on innocent people. But does justice look like this? Does the name of justice absolve your hands from actions this ugly?

Morality is complicated. And Levi is the first to tell you that he doesn’t know how to slice it. “I’m not telling you what’s right or wrong. I certainly don’t know what is” (Chapter 59).

So now in Chapter 56, we come to the scene with Historia, right on the heels of that torture. The first red flag for me went up when Levi realizes he has “forgotten” to tell his squad about Historia’s true bloodline. It’s not that he didn’t intend to tell them, it’s not that he was not supposed to tell them. (Unlike, say, the entire Female Titan arc.) He forgot, and he’s clearly embarrassed when they confront him. Why? Because he’s not supposed to lose focus like that. But he did, because that information came from Sannes, and after that horrendous experience, Levi, like Hange before him, was emotionally distracted. That’s the only reason I can figure for Isayama focusing on Levi’s oversight like this, and showing Levi in such an obviously emotionally awkward place.

Hange isn’t here to translate for Levi, like she did when Levi berated Eren for being unable to harden during the experiments in Chapter 53. Levi takes the scenic, colorful route when explaining his feelings. To Eren, he admitted that his criticism wasn’t about blaming Eren for being unable to harden, stating that “going over our shortcomings and bitching about our situation is an important ritual.”

In this light, we can read Levi’s words and actions with Historia as a complicated picture of his psychological landscape. Notice how just prior to this scene, we saw Hange act out the aftermath of the torture by kicking the table. Levi too reacts, taking it out on Historia.

Imagine where Levi is right now. He’s taken on the role of Sannes in this new world—the executioner, the ultimate killer, Humanity’s Strongest. “Your hands are already dirty. You can’t go back to the way you were,” Levi tells Armin later, but it’s also what he believes about himself. All that idealism that brought him into the Survey Corps—a life bigger than being a thug in the underworld. Did all that idealism bring him here, to do this? He has to make it worth it, he has to make it count for something. It’s what he does every day when his soldiers die under him—he’s been there to make their deaths worthwhile. But who’s there to make the deaths and terrors he’s dealt out worthwhile for him?

Levi’s expression in the last panel is angry, yes, but also wracked with pain.

So when Historia says she’s unfit for the role of Queen, when she says she can’t be Queen because she’s not good enough, Levi snaps. “Then run,” he said, grabbing her. “Run away from us as fast as you can. Because we’re going to do anything and everything to make you do what we want.” Levi’s eyes are downcast, not looking at her, because what he’s saying is more about him than it is about her.

Because he knows he’s dark enough to follow those orders to do the worst things to a human being to make the entire world a better place. He knows it’s in his bones to commit these atrocities. He is afraid of what he found he’s capable of. He’s already come to terms with killing humans as Titans. He’s come to terms with torturing humans as humans. He knows he can and will do horrible, unforgivable things. That’s his strength, that’s what makes him valuable, useful, important. He’s not like other people—“I’m abnormal… probably because I’ve seen far too many abnormal things.” But he’s ready to condemn himself, to make his hands dirty for the sake of others. He’s decided he has to go full through with the darkness he’s committed, because how else can he justify what he’s done? “I’m fine playing the role of the lunatic who kills people like that. I have to be ready to rearrange some faces. Because I choose the hell of humans killing each other over the hell of being eaten. At least that way… all of humanity doesn’t have to be damned.” His are the hands that will be stained with blood, his is the conscience that will be stained, his is the soul that will sink to hell—all so that others’ innocence can be spared.

The 104th look at him like he’s gone mad, abusing a young, helpless girl like that. But they haven’t seen what he had to do. They haven’t seen how bloody his hands have gotten. His violence here is a desperate reaction to get someone to save him. He’s always been able to avenge the deaths of his soldiers. But this time, he is the one in need of redemption. He could not justify his violence completely, he could only plea for her to make them unnecessary in the future. By becoming Queen, it means he won’t have to keep torturing, keep killing, keep shedding human blood. Her becoming Queen means a peaceful transition of power. Her becoming Queen means he won’t have to pave the path to a new government with more blood and more guilt, at least, not more than he has to. He’s enslaved to doing what his strength allows him to do. He’s begging her to not let people ask that of him.

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

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Four Seasons

Summary: Jaskier is the god of winter and he gets invited to the four seasons ball. A formal celebration held by the the gods. This is finally the moment that Geralt realises just what Jaskier the bard really is.

Rated: T

Length 1.8k

CW: Jaskier wears a dress, brief mention of gods being genderfluid

Based of this art by @little-piece-of-tamlin. Another @thewitcherbog special!

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As far as Geralt was aware, Jaskier was just a normal, very human bard. Jaskier had never said as such but people made assumptions, and he was happy to let people go about their day and think whatever made them most comfortable. Most people would be uncomfortable in the presence of a god, or they'd bow down, grovel at his feet, which whilst fun for a short period of time, got horrendously dull very quickly. He was a free spirit, especially during the summer months. Winter was a busier affair but Geralt was always tucked away in Kaer Morhen so never noticed Jaskier’s more immortal side during the coldest time of the year.

Geralt was about to get the shock of his lifetime.

It wasn’t as if Jaskier had planned it but the invitation had come in from Priscilla in the spring and he couldn’t just ignore it. The Four Seasons ball only happened once a century and it had completely slipped Jaskier’s mind, but he wouldn’t just abandon Geralt. The poor witcher might have thought he was dead if he hadn’t turned up at their unofficially agreed meeting place. So Geralt would just have to join Jaskier for the ball, and after that there would be no hiding. He was a guest of honour and gods and mortals alike would bask in the magic of the changing seasons. Most mortals wouldn’t remember the ball afterwards, the magic too powerful for their tiny little brains to comprehend, but those blessed by a god’s favour could remember.

And of course, Jaskier had blessed Geralt. One could not hold a god’s heart and not be blessed.

“You’re quiet,” Geralt grumbled as they made their way up to the rooms Jaskier had secured for them.

“I received an invitation to a party. I was hoping that you might come with me,” Jaskier stammered, feeling the frost creeping through his veins as it always did when his emotions started to get the better of him. He could melt snow and ice with a simple smile, but when he got anxious, things started to get a little frosty. The air temperature outside the tavern had dropped considerably since they’d arrived, but he doubted anyone had really noticed. It was late in the day and the change could be blamed on the setting of the sun.

“Already? Whose partner did you bed this time, bard?”

“Oh haha, very funny!” Jaskier scoffed, ignoring the frost glistening on the windows of their room when they stepped inside. Deep down he knew he needed to get a grip. Pris would be pissed off if he ruined her spring thaw with his own emotions, his poor sister would have to work even harder to counteract the effects of his magic, but it was always more difficult to rein in his magic in the spring. It was still strong from the winter months, and there was an adjustment period.

Even still, the snowfall last summer after the blasted dragon hunt had all three of his siblings up in arms against him. Valdo had to trigger autumn early and the whole harvest had been a mess.

He really should just tell Geralt he loved him and deal with the consequences, but… well… it had been a long time since he had loved like this and he still nursed the heartbreak.

“Jaskier?” Geralt said, snapping him from his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked, focussing back into the room. He meant to say “nothing” or something along those lines. Something harmless and easy.

What fell from his lips was another thing entirely.

“I love you, oh bollocks!” Jaskier blurted, clapping a hand over his mouth.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, I mean… Jaskier,” Geralt gestured to the room, there was a snow flurry above them and the windows were completely iced over. He desperately tried to think happy thoughts, the warm golden glow of Geralt’s eyes. The soft growl of his voice whenever Jaskier did something stupid that would get any mortal killed. Even if Geralt never loved him back, the thought of his witcher was enough to soothe his panic. With one last deep breath and a flick of his wrist, the snow was gone, “What the fuck?”

“Oh fuck, Pris is going to kill me,” Jaskier whined. “I- umm…”

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, one hand was holding his medallion and he just looked… well, done? Shit. Fucking cock balls.

“Explain, bard.”

“I love you? Quite hopelessly, I’m afraid,” Jaskier smiled sheepishly, his tongue flicking out to flick his lips, a nervous habit that he’d never quite overcome. “But!” he announced with false bravado, “that’s neither here nor there, it’ll pass. No need to worry about me, witcher.”

“And the snow?”

“Oooh yeah that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, there’s a chance that I might be a god, hypothetically speaking of course. I’ve always favoured the winter months,” Jaskier admitted, flexing his fingers and pulling at his lute strap.

“You hate winter,” Geralt growled, still painfully ignoring Jaskier’s love confession but that was fine. “You always spend the winter in that cushy academy of yours.”

“Not strictly true,” Jaskier sighed, “but are you coming to my ball or not, witcher? My sister has invited us both, apparently I don’t shut up about you, probably part of the being in love thing.”

“No, you just don’t shut up.”

“Rude! Fine, be that way, Geralt. I’ll go alone,” Jaskier huffed, pouting with his whole body in a way that he knew Geralt always fell for. “It’s a shame, I had a perfect outfit planned. Gods don’t play by your rules of gender, and oh you should see me in a dress, I look absolutely divine, quite literally in fact.”

“If I come with you, will you be quiet?” Geralt sighed.

“Now, now, we both know I can’t promise that.”

Geralt groaned before slumping onto the bed, the only bed, and it took Jaskier another half an hour to get Geralt ready for the ball. It helped that he could use his magic now that Geralt knew, but the witcher still fought Jaskier on the pale blue doublet that would match Jaskier’s dress perfectly. No man, mortal or otherwise, could fight Jaskier’s eye for fashion and eventually Geralt gave in. It helped when Jaskier reminded the witcher there would be no need for armour in the presence of gods, there was no monster they couldn’t best, and so reluctantly Geralt left his worn out witcher armour on the bed, and let Jaskier dress him.

“Did you mean it?” Geralt muttered.

“Mean what?” Jaskier asked, cocking his head as his magic weaved through the fabric, subtly marking the witcher as his, no other god could claim Geralt if Jaskier already had, and he just didn’t trust his brother, not after the Countess de Stael.

“You love me?”

“With all my heart and soul, darling,” Jaskier admitted softly, his fingers freezing on the collar of Geralt’s doublet, now printed with buttercups. If one were to look closely they would see the tiny little snowflakes that made up the design, “but I- I understand if you don’t feel the same. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to tell you.”

“Hmm.”

“Is that alright, Geralt?”

“Yes. I- shit,” the witcher growled, “It’s not easy for me, witcher don’t-”

“Oh fuck off,” Jaskier snapped. “ Don’t you fucking dare, Geralt. Witchers don’t feel. Whatever whoreson told you that-”

“I know. I know, but you got hurt, because of me, and seeing you lying there in Yennefer’s bed. I thought I’d lost you,” Geralt snapped, his golden eyes burning with fire.

“And that was the day I lost you… to her,” Jaskier sighed, “I was never in real harm. The djinn magic just hurt this body, and I’m rather fond of this one, but I would have survived.”

“You didn’t lose me, Jaskier. Yennefer, she’s, she’s less fragile, and the wish, my wish,” Geralt shook his head.

“Ah yes, you bound yourself to her, my poor aunt, you call her Destiny, was not impressed with that one, but never mind, dear heart, your destiny is set now,” Jaskier pressed a kiss to Geralt’s cheek. “Of course, I could undo it. Djinn’s magic has nothing on mine, but the bond between you and Yennefer means nothing. It is a tie, not a love potion. I know you love her, Geralt.”

“I love you, Jaskier,” Geralt said all too quickly, and Jaskier froze, his heart racing in his chest and the world spinning around him in a blur. “It was easier to pretend that I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“Oh fuck,” Jaskier cried out, whisps of frost dancing through the air around them. “You- you love me?”

“Yes, Jaskier,” Geralt repeated, rolling his eyes and shooting Jaskier a fond smile. “I love you.”

Jaskier beamed, and with a flick of his wrist his doublet and breeches melted away into a beautiful icy blue gown. The fabric was cold against his skin, a mesh of snowflakes so thin that the pale blue fabric was sheer. He left his arms free of sleeves, and winked as he saw Geralt’s eyes go wide as he took in the muscles that Jaskier usually hid under his clothes. He thought about taking on a more traditionally female form to fill out the cleavage in the dress, but he rather liked the way Geralt was looking at him with a dark hunger in his eyes. As he stepped forwards his boots shifted into elegant high heels, a dark navy blue with thin straps around his ankles.

“Jask,” Geralt breathed, “You look…”

Jaskier winked at his witcher, cupping his cheek with his hand. “There, now we match.”

“You’re taller than me.”

With a giggle, Jaskier nodded, looking down at Geralt for the first time in their acquaintance. They’d always been similar in height, but Jaskier’s shoes gave him the edge now. “Well, you are my guest for the evening, and no mortal should rise above their immortal, it goes against court etiquette.”

The witcher scoffed, “When have you ever given a shit about etiquette?”

“Human etiquette, witcher, not the gods’. This is different. This is my home, now come on, Pris will kill me if I’m late again.” Jaskier scooped up his lute, and took Geralt’s hand in his. “Are you ready?”

“No.”

“Hold on tight, darling,” Jaskier grinned.

“Wait, fuck, Jaskier! Not a portal!”

But the witcher’s protests were swallowed up in a flurry of snow as they were transported to the realm of the gods. An echo of Jaskier’s musical laugh hung in the air as the snow settled on the ground as the witcher and his bard set off on their latest adventure.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #wolfie’s witcher writing

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stxleslyds · 3 years

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MY THOUGHTS ON TITANS’ RED HOOD,

BEFORE WATCHING THE LAST EPISODE.

I will start by saying that I haven’t been able to watch the show, these are my thoughts after reading a very well-written and detailed review of the last episode. The review is also written by someone that enjoys the show, this is important because my thoughts don’t align with theirs.

I understand that Titans is known for being garbage, I know their writing is messed up, and I had no hope whatsoever for them to actually write a good Jason Todd/Red Hood story. I would also like to make clear that this post is in no way hate towards the actor playing Jason, this post is just my thoughts on Jason’s characterization.

What I really don’t like is these shows/movies taking the names of loved characters and making an “original character” out of them. Yes, there are different takes of the character and you can build their story differently but I do feel that what they did with Jason is beyond all that. They twisted every concept from his origin and his story, nothing really fits, but someway, somehow, they still managed to push all the wrong narratives when it comes to Robin Jason.

Two of the most horrible narratives that DC has decided to push are “Robin Jason was reckless and a troubled kid that never did what he was told” and “Jason Todd is to blame for his death”.

The show does push the one where Jason is reckless. Jason is consumed by fear, and Bruce Wayne pays attention to that but he doesn’t only do that, he also offers comfort and help, he tries to make Robin Jason go to therapy.

This is huge, they build up the perfect scenario for Jason to not become the Red Hood. But for some reason, they decided to make Jason reckless and too eager to prove that he didn’t need that kind of help. And then they didn’t help Jason’s case because they wrote their Bruce as a caring father that does not want to see his son get hurt or end up dead.

This Bruce Wayne is doing everything that comics Bruce Wayne didn’t. This Bruce cares, so once more, one would think that this Jason wouldn’t become the Red Hood. But, surprise! Jason Todd doesn’t take well the news of him not being able to be Robin anymore.

Here is the thing, if you were Bruce in this situation, would you let this Jason continue to be Robin when he is a danger to himself? I know I wouldn’t.

Here is where Titans’ terrible writing reaches its peak. They have a vulnerable and reckless Jason try to prove that he can still be Robin by working on *something* that can take his fears away. Jason Todd wants to make a drug, let that one sink in.

Jason Todd wants to make something that is basically a drug. Did Titans really erase the fact that Jason’s mother overdosed? Because that’s one of the most important things in Jason’s life and that built up his hate for drugs and what they do to people. His mother was in an abusive relationship and that led her to do drugs and later led her to her own death.

This might not sound too important to other people but to me, it’s something that has always been important to Jason’s character before and after his death.

Going back to the actual show, Jason goes to Scarecrow, willingly, and asks him to make him a drug that will make him don’t feel fear. I know that this Jason is vulnerable and that he probably thinks that therapy isn’t working for him, but why on earth would Jason think that making Scarecrow make a drug for him would be a good idea?

How does that make sense? The show is basically telling us that Jason had a support system and that he was going to therapy because Bruce wouldn’t want to lose his SON. Why does this show go far and beyond to make Jason look reckless and dumb?

This is not me comparing Comics Jason to Titans Jason anymore, this is me finding Titans’ logic unnecessarily stupid, they really went out of their way to write pure stupidity.

Why would they write Bruce as a caring father and as actively working so Jason can be in a better mental state so he won’t lose him as his son if they are also going to write Jason as an incredibly reckless man? Are we supposed to be on Bruce’s side? Because as of now, Bruce is the only one with brain cells.

There is absolutely no way to compare that to comics because in comics Bruce neglected Jason’s needs and refused to see that Jason had different morals even back then, and that neglect was key in Jason jumping onto the idea that he needed someone that he could call family and actually care for him. He wanted love and attention from a parental figure because he didn’t feel like he had one. Robin wasn’t everything that Jason was, he was also a kid with normal needs.

So, you build that completely different and actually give Jason the support that he also wanted in the show but for some reason, he is fiercely attached to Robin even though his fear comes from the fact that he almost died for being Robin. There is no logic to this Jason’s actions and that isn’t on Jason it's on the writers’ incredibly garbage writing. It is like they come up with ten different ideas and they put all of them but none of them are actually solid and well-developed concepts.

And you can’t tell me to get over it because “Titans has always had bad writing, there were two seasons of bad writing”. Listen, if you are happy to consume media that is badly written then that’s on you, Jason is one of my favorite characters, I don’t want him to be written badly just because that’s the show’s style. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with me wanting writers to actually care about the characters they are writing for, all three seasons have had different writers, is it really so far-fetched for me to want one of these people to write something that makes sense?

Jason's death was tragic in both comics and the show, and he was a victim in both of them, yes. But the show really pushes the limits of that, Jason wanted to take something to make him not fear, he looked for Scarecrow (not Dr. Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow, and he was an already established villain) to make him this drug when he couldn’t make it himself. He trusted Scarecrow (for some weird reason) and then as a test he went to fight Joker? It’s tragic because it ended with Jason dying but it's also tragic because the writing is just bad. It just is, and that is a problem for me.

From then on, we have the “big connection” to comics, the Lazarus Pit! Wow, you guys did it, yeah, everyone loves the Lazarus Pit, every time I think about Jason, I only think about that one time in which he was thrown in a Lazarus Pit to recover his mental injuries or all of his injuries after he came back from the dead.

This Jason has no training, there is no Talia, no League of Assassins, no Ducra or All-Castle, there is only Scarecrow and his new puppet, the Red Hood.

It changes everything and I don’t like it. Once again, I understand and know the concept of the multiverse, the various earths, and the Elseworlds, but that doesn’t mean that I have to like this take on Jason Todd/Red Hood along with its horrendous writing.

I don’t have to like it, just like I understand that others do like it because it is their first contact with the character or because they are fine, as fans of the character, with a new take. I am not gatekeeping Jason Todd or Red Hood; I am just saying that my being angry at this version and absolutely hating it is just as valid as liking this version of Jason.

Red Hood in Titans is just Scarecrow’s puppet, that’s how things are, and I just think that it is too big of a change from the original reasons for Jason to become Red Hood. And I will never get tired of saying this, Red Hood wasn’t only all about the Joker killing him and Batman not killing the Joker. The Red Hood was Jason’s way to make things work, to prove to Bruce that Batman wasn’t enough for Gotham. Red Hood came back to Gotham to stop bad people from introducing children to drugs and to make Gotham’s people feel safe.

He thought that Red Hood was the better version of Batman for Gotham and its people.

But I am not blind, I can see how Titans can twist it again to give us Red Hood as a protector of children and Gotham in general. I can see the “I used to do drugs and now I will fight so no other person goes through the same”, I see it and I am aware of it but it does also bring me to my other problem with Titans and DC in general: story swapping.

Story Swapping is something that DC loves to do, they thrive when they make change people’s origins for others and when they take character traits from one character to another.

And Titans’ Jason Todd is just that, he has characteristics and plot concepts from Dick Grayson and if what I just predicted happens then he will have some of Roy Harper's characteristics. And that is exactly what Lobdell did, but somehow, they managed to get different results. I cannot praise Titans for giving us a new Red Hood origin because they made his characterization with the help of other character’s origins and/or stories.

This is the first time that we see a live-action Jason Todd/Red Hood, was it really that hard to just stick to his origins as both Robin and Red Hood? There is so much to explore from Jason, there is so much between his death and him becoming Red Hood, from both before and after New 52.

Jason becoming Red Hood under the influence of Scarecrow in moths is lazy, bland and an insult to Jason’s character. They could have done things by the book and then explore things that we have never seen before in a show or movie.

Jason has had so much training outside of Gotham, why did Titans think that they could do acceptable work at bringing this amazingly complex character in a show that has nothing to do with him.

They could have had him killed in the Titans show and then wait and make a Red Hood show to actually tell a good story. What is Jason Todd doing in a show that is called Titans? Where are the Titans? They chose the most recognizable Titans’ line-up and they are not using it. They butchered Garth and Donna and for what?

DC gets away way too much with selling their stupid shows and movies by telling us that x character will appear but then when you watch the thing for that x character, they are nowhere to be seen. That’s exactly what they did with Cassandra Cain and what they are doing with Red Hood.

I don’t know how this tv show is doing, I only know that as a non-American that pays the same money for an HBO Max subscription, I don’t get to see any Titans content, not even a miserable trailer.

But I know that if non-comic readers are watching it, they will love it and if they actually were to start reading comics because of the show, then they wouldn’t find that Jason there. So, either that leads to Jason’s characterization being messed up even more within comics or it does nothing for Jason or comics.

To end this post, I just want to bring up the animated movie Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010).

That movie was widely praised and loved by critics, comic readers, and non-comic readers. It was fantastic, the story was amazing (even though it had differences with the comic, one might say that the differences improved the story), the voice acting was phenomenal, everything was done beautifully. Do you know what made it that way? The writing.

And you know who wrote the animated movie? The same person who wrote the comic the movie is based on, Judd Winick.

With that I am not saying that Titans should have had Judd write for them, what I am saying is that given the fact that they are using a pre-existing character they should chat with the Red Hood’s creator or even the writer that wrote for him for ten years after the character came back to comics.

This show obviously didn’t do that though, they preferred to write Jason Todd/Red Hood as if he were a Titans original character, but the thing is, from where I see it Titans didn’t give us an OC, they gave us an OOC.

So, to sum it all up, I hate Titans’ version of Jason Todd/Red Hood, I think that it is not only badly written but there is also no real logic to what they are trying to do so far. I am also tired of their bad and lazy writing in general. And I would have liked the Titans’ writers to actually respect the Red Hood lore because if they had I would have actually been excited about a Red Hood spin-off show.

Using the material that is available to you isn’t a crime, building from that material is the best thing that they could have done, but all they really wanted to do was use Red Hood’s name to get more money from a dying show.

It makes the show look cheap and actually not interested in giving us good stories, and no, I wasn’t expecting Captain America: The Winter Soldier levels of good writing or good changes to a very loved story/characters, I was actually expecting some Lobdell writing level and the way I see it we ended up getting something worse.

These are all my opinions. You can like, love, or dislike this version of Jason and the show as much as you want but you won’t find any form of love towards the show in this blog, at least not right now.

MY THOUGHTS ON TITANS’ RED HOOD,

AFTER WATCHING THE LAST EPISODE.

Well, I will start this part by saying: Sorry. I am sorry that I believed that Titans’ Red Hood was bad, it is actually worse than bad.

I was so wrong on many things, that review really made me think that things weren’t that bad but I still hated what I read. Now that I have watched the episode because I wanted this post to be extra honest and to stop myself from saying stupid stuff, I can also say that I hated what I watched.

This show really validates the two most horrible narratives that DC has been pushing for Jason: “he was a reckless Robin that didn’t think about his actions” and “he was to blame for his own death”

Jason Todd wasn’t a victim of Scarecrow, this Jason Todd took every single bad decision that he could, and those decisions led him to his death. No sympathy for this man.

Also, this Jason is like 19? He doesn’t look younger than that, but that’s not the point, what I am trying to point out is that this Robin is extremely underprepared, he lacks training and the mental capacity to stop acting like an edge lord every time he opens his mouth. He is annoying.

And I was wrong about Titans erasing the plotline of Jason’s mother dying of an overdose, she did die that way and this Jason spoke of her as if he hated her. What is going on? This Jason really doesn’t make me feel an ounce of sympathy for him. This attitude of “no one understands my pain” when everybody is trying to help you doesn’t make you look cool or anything of the sort, it makes you look annoying.

It is even worse because this Jason is so immature and reckless that he made his friend Molly (that is just a normal teen with no training) go after a thug with him, while he was not mentally well. He made that decision for them and put himself and her in danger. If that scene had gone any other way, then Jason could have been guilty of getting his friend injured or killed.

Jason Todd is so incredibly dumb; he is not a child but he acts like one every step of the way.

Nothing makes sense in his whole ass interaction with Bruce in front of the theatre, it’s like Jason refuses to listen to what Bruce tells him, well not that he refuses to listen it is more like a “Telefono descompuesto” I don’t know if you guys have that game but you basically have to tell something in someone’s ear and then the person repeats what they understood to the next and so on, what you said is heavily distorted by the end of the game. In this scene that is exactly what happens but it’s between two people.

When Jason accuses Bruce of not taking away Robin from Dick, Bruce says something along the lines of “I learned from my mistakes” and Jason says “so, I am a mistake now?”. Jason, use your ears, if Bruce says that he learned from his mistakes when talking about Dick, then his mistake was what he did with Dick. The writing is so bad, it's actually painful and it is even worse because the acting is bad, but I can’t blame the actors, it must really be hard to make a scene work when the writing is that bad. (Also, the unnecessary pauses, and the sounds that they play after they say something stupid, it is too funny).

Do you know what made me cringe? When they were having the chat in the theatre, in my mind all I could hear was “if you are nothing without the suit then you shouldn’t have it”, not me quoting Tony Stark in my head! I haven’t even watched that movie! But it fits perfectly for that scene.

The interaction with Scarecrow was more than dumb, if Jason was already acting like a child, now, he is basically acting like a toddler. Scarecrow saw right through him in seconds and just as fast decided that he was going to have fun with his new toy. He gave him a formula that wasn’t quite correct even though it looked like he knew exactly how to make the reverse version of his fear gas. This Jason has zero detective or survival skills but we already knew that when he made himself get captured and tortured by Deathstroke.

Anyway, all the interactions with Scarecrow were allowed to happen because this Jason can’t put two and two together. He convinces himself that everyone is out to get him, dude, Bruce is a detective and he also has eyes, Leslie didn’t tell him anything. If I were Bruce, you wouldn’t be able to be Robin anymore either.

I understand that Jason is not in a good mental place and that he wants to make his fears go away, but he had support, people around him were trying to get him help, trying to make him understand that he was hurting himself. His over-the-top anger and recklessness are unjustified when you refuse to take the help that is being offered to you.

He made terrible decisions for selfish purposes and that got him killed.

This is one of the last things I want to say, Scarecrow either didn’t need Jason at all to get out of Arkham or the writers made an oopsie because at the end of the episode he had someone helping him put Jason in the Lazarus Pit and then he was out of Arkham and he had a suit ready for Jason and everything. How did he manage all that? No idea.

The Lazarus Pit, yeah, I am sorry to be that person but the Pit can’t bring back people from the dead, it can only restore or heal physical and mental injuries (however grave they were), but Lobdell messed that one up already and Titans really didn’t have time to write a single good scene so what was I expecting?

Anyway, the last thing I wanted to say is that I know why Jason or Red Hood seems to not be affected by the drug when he sees Molly at the end of the episode, it is because the executive producer of the show is Geoff Johns! He loves making Jason fall for girls and get all mushy and dumb, do you guys remember how dumb he got when he left with Rose?

Jason being written as the kind of guy that acts like a love-sick puppy with a girl but also screams at her when he gets mad is peak Geoff Johns. So, if you were wondering where that came from, well, there it is.

Yeah, that is all I had to say, honestly if you have read this whole post then you are one strong individual, I am sorry I put you through all my thinking and rambling. You didn’t really deserve that.

I didn’t want to delete the first part of the post because I talked about so much more than the show and my thoughts before watching the episode still stand. I hope this post isn’t too confusing. As always you can think the complete opposite of me about the show or anything, I am just writing my thoughts.

Having said all that, I hope all of you, Titans’ lovers, haters, and people that simply do not care, have a wonderful week!

#jason todd #red hood #titans s3 #titans #anti titans

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yeahimaloser · 3 years

Text

I'm Home

Hello! I'm so sorry this took so long to make! the final few weeks of school has been busting my ass, but it's almost over!

Anyways, here is part two to Come Home!

Summary: After your fight, Dabi tries to find you in order to make things right, he wants to show you how much he loves you.

Warnings: angst, tiny bit suggestive if you squint.

. . .

The first thing Dabi felt as he awoke was a splitting headache.

He grabbed his head as it throbbed in pain, shaking it painfully. He grouped around, his eyes still tightly closed from the pain, trying to feel you near him, but all he could feel were the cool bedsheets underneath his palm.

Maybe you were making breakfast? You always did know how to cheer him up after a nasty hangover.

Dabi groaned as something gnawed at the back of his mind, a memory fogged with alcohol and yelling and…

You.

He jolted up, soon after regretting it because his whole body felt like it was being crushed down. He had to give himself a moment to let his head august, but when it did, he was grabbing at his phone, looking at the time.

Eleven a.m.

Dabi felt a coldness run through his vines. There were no texts from you, no calls, no anything.

“Fuck,” his voice felt hoarse and gruff, but in all honesty, he couldn’t give two shits.

He had fucked up. He had fucked up the one thing he needed, the one, perfect thing he had.

It was one thing for him to come home drunk, he knew that maybe you would have forgiven him then. But he remembered all those things he said about you, all those horrible things he said came rushing back.

Obviously, he didn’t mean them, how could he? He loved you so much, and maybe he didn’t tell you that as often as he should have, but he really, truly did.

Except now he had fucked up, and he had fucked up big.

And he missed you, he missed seeing your face as he woke up, watching you tease him by saying; “aww look how finally decided to come out.”

To which a very hungover him would probably say; “Whatever,” and probably just start cuddling up to you.

But he didn’t get that, he didn’t deserve that.

He opened his messages to you, seeing as you didn’t even text him to let him know where you were, which he knew was ironic.

He stared down at the blank messages, hatting how the last text you sent him was from yesterday, around one in the morning.

Y/N: I love you

He growled before stumbling out of bed, he quickly realized that standing up was a bad idea.

As he put a hand to his head, trying to steady the pounding in his brain, he clicked on the button that had your phone ringing.

He waited.

And waited.

And then-

Nothing. You didn’t pick up.

Maybe it was too early?

He knew that wasn’t at all the case, you were ignoring him, and really, he couldn't blame you. He had been a dick to you last night, and all he wanted to do was apologize to you, tell you that he wanted you to stay with him.

Dabi was absolute shit at words, he had a hard time expressing himself in general. But, he knew he had to convince you to stay, somehow.

He groaned to himself, how the fuck was he supposed to find you?

. . .

You had driven far.

Far enough where you knew nothing looked familiar, far enough where you knew that nothing would make you compelled to come home. It was just you, and nothing more.

Finally, you found some shitty motel, asked for a room, and that was it.

Well, except for the fact that you cried for a few hours, only to crash out.

To be honest, you felt pathetic. Which was concerning because you had done nothing wrong. Anyone would have reacted the same, anyone would have walked away and been just as mad as you.

But you felt so miserable.

Maybe what Dabi did was absolutely horrendous, and any rational person would be upset, seeing as he didn’t even think to tell you he was ok (the one thing you asked him to tell you), and all the mean things he said? Your heart still hurt from that. But you loved him. You loved him, and it felt heavy to stay away from him, like each moment he wasn’t with you, you felt like a brick was added to your lungs, till your body felt so pressed down you couldn’t move.

For most of that night, all you could do was cry.

And then sleep.

And you slept late.

Yet, if you were honest you couldn’t care. Thinking about Dabi just made you feel sick, thinking about the fact that you left Dabi also made you feel sick, and then thinking about leaving made you feel sick like if you moved, you would break.

So you just stayed, not thinking, not moving, not even bothering to august your position when you got uncomfortable.

You just wanted to be sad, you just wanted to be left alone. To wallow in self-pity and sadness, to not think about the fact that you might have just lost your boyfriend, the one man you truly thought you deserved.

After a few, long, dragged-out moments, you heard a quiet knock at your door.

Your brows furrowed, who could that be?

You hadn’t ordered any food, there was no reason the staff would be knocking at your door, so who the hell could it be?

“Coming,” your voice was hoarse, probably from the crying.

You rolled off your spot on your bed, not bothering to check how you looked, you just wanted to be left alone.

You opened up your door, and shock washed over you.

To any other person, he would look like...well to be completely honest he would like an idiot.

He had a hoodie and shades on, and a mask to cover up his scars, as well as a red cap to not draw suspicion to his hair.

But you knew Dabi when you saw him.

Dabi took a long breath before he spoke, “Y/N...Y/N I’m sorry.”

You planted your feet firmly, keeping your voice as steady as you could, “Just come in before anyone notices you.”

Dabi nodded, stepping into the small space of the motel room, shuffling around you as he came in.

You shut the door, trying to compose yourself as Dabi took off his “disguise.”

“...Have you been crying?”

Those were not the first words you wanted to hear after your fight with Dabi, a part of you wanted him to beg for you to come back with him (which you knew wouldn’t happen, he was way too stubborn). And yet, a part of you didn’t want that, you wanted him to just leave, he was the one who caused this, after all, he was the one who should take some responsibility.

And yet, the other, deeper part of you, just wanted to run into his arms, and cry. You just wanted him to hold you, to kiss you, to silently rub your back like he always did to soothe you. You just wanted your Dabi back.

But instead, you huffed, “Of course you would say something like that,” you turned your back to him, not wanting him to see the disappointment on your face.

But Dabi grabbed your wrist, “Hey, I was just worried because...well because I thought you would have been more mad than depressed. You did nothing wrong.”

Well, now you were starting to get mad. You whipped back around to him, snatching your wrist out of his hold, “Not everyone needs to do something shitty to feel upset, Dabi. You hurt me, I’m not just gonna walk away from something like that feeling all angry. I was upset because you don’t care.”

Dabi’s face shifted into one of startlement, “I don’t care? Doll, what are you talking about? I drove all the way here because I care. I won’t bullshit you, I was an ass. I should have called you and I should have come home earlier than I did. And those things I said, those were fucked up, and I don’t mean them. I-I don’t have an excuse. But I’m here now, I’m here because I’m sorry Y/N and I wanna fix this.”

You sighed, “Dabi, you really hurt me-”

“I know, and I just wanna...apologize. Y/N, that was wrong of me, I was an ass, and you don’t deserve that. I miss you Y/N, and I know you deserve something better than...this.”

Your eyes narrowed, “What can you not even say how we’re in a relationship.”

“No- that’s not what I-,” Dabi shook his head, “Y/N, I love you, and I know I don’t say that all that often because you know it’s hard. But I really can’t lose you. You’re just about all I have left,” he chuckled a bit.

A long, stretched-out moment passed between you two before you sighed and moved towards Dabi.

“I love you too.”

And there it was, that devilish smirk on his face, “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught that, would you mind repeating it please?”

“You’re pushing it.”

“Ok, ok sorry.”

You both paused, waiting for something to break the eerie silence that filled up in the space between you two.

And finally, it all came out.

“...Did you mean all that stuff you said.”

“No, I meant none of it.”

You sighed, “Even the part where... where you said I was better off without you? Even the part where you said I should leave you?”

Dabi visibly bristled, “Doll-”

He was silent, and you could feel the temperature in the room heat up.

“You can do better than me, I’ve always thought that that part of our relationship would have been obvious. But, if you’re asking if I want that? Then no. I want you to come home, I want to fix this because I love you, I want you to stay with me.”

You took a long, deep, pause before answering, “I do too, Dabi. It’s just, your words hurt, and I don’t know if I can magically forgive you yet.”

Dabi felt his chest tightening, “...So then, what do we do?”

You fiddled with your hands, “I’m not really sure.”

“I don’t wanna break up-”

“Neither do I,” you interjected, “I don’t wanna leave you, Dabi. that’s the last thing I want to do. I just don’t know how I can get over this.”

“Do you want some space?”

You paused.

Did you want space? A part of you knew that maybe it was the responsible thing to do, a part of you thought that maybe, maybe it would do you both good to separate for a bit.

But the other part of you, the one screaming inside, was telling you no, you didn’t want space.

You missed Dabi’s arms around you, missed the way his hands felt so protective around your body. You missed the way his lips would fall on yours, ever so dominant in his way. No, you didn’t want space, you just wanted him.

“No,” you said, “no I don’t want space.”

“So then,” Dabi started, “What do you want.”

You leaned into him, as he did the same. Your eyes meet as you both seem to have a mutual need for one another.

“I want you.”

Your lips collided with his, your breath was taken away as his hands grabbed at the small of your back. The way his body formed against yours, as you hugged yourself tightly to him.

You couldn’t help but sigh as Dabi deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding past yours as he grabbed you by your hips.

You gasped suddenly as he pushed you up on the wall of the motel, your eyes going wide, only to be met with a loud growl from Dabi.

If you were being completely honest, you loved when he got like this, so in the moment, so passionate. The way he was so dominating made your legs shake, made your stomach boil with anticipation.

You wanted more.

You gripped onto Dabi’s hair, earning a surprising moan from him, his hands flinch on your hips.

But he got you back.

His body closed up around yours, tight against you, like you had nowhere to go.

Unfortunately, you had to breathe. Which would have ended the forgiving kiss.

Well, except, Dabi decided to go exploring on your neck.

His lips were rough against your skin, but they always had such care to them as Dabi pressed them to you. Such a loving air, and yet, such a claiming one as well. A kind of way to say, “You are mine, and I will show you.”

“D-Dabi,” you hated how you stuttered. But the way Dabi looked back up at you made it worth it.

He brought his lips away from your neck, only to place them again on yours.

After a moment, he pulled back.

“So,” Dabi said breathless, “...I’m forgiven?”

“...you ruined the moment.”

. . .

tag-list

@breezybear @softkao @fandomofheroes @lovely-angst @nadaespexial @effmigentlywithachainsaw @cold-dreamy-eyes @satansgf1

I HOPE YALL DONT MIND IF I TAGGED YOU IN THE PART TWO!

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sixtyfourk · 3 years

Note

May I suggest an AU where Don Paolo finds the Golden Apple first and adopts Flora instead of Layton? :)

Absolutely!! Thank you so much for asking! This turned out to be... pretty long, actually, almost 2000 words :'D I'm going to post it here under a cut, but I also put it in Puzzles Left Unsolved if you'd rather read it on Ao3. Thank you again for the request; it was a great chance for me to write for Don Paolo for the first time!

...

“Welcome to the Future.”

Dr. Allen smiles broadly, throwing open the clock shop’s door with careless abandon. Flora can’t hold back a gasp at the sight before her. Yes, the scenery in front of her is Midland Road, but it’s unmistakably changed: worn down, and dirty with ten years’ worth of grime. The bus stop is gone, and tall poles mounted with loudspeakers tower above the ground.

Could they really have travelled through time? It seems impossible, but then again, the evidence seems too solid to brush aside. Flora’s still reeling from the trip through the “time machine.” Between the rocky ride down here, and the changed London that she sees before her now, she’s almost convinced that she truly is in the future.

Hesitantly, she looks toward Paul, hoping that she can take a cue from his reaction to what Dr. Allen referred to as “The Future.” Her mentor looks almost as dumbfounded as she does. Then, he seems to notice her gaze. He clears his throat, calming his expression, and turns toward Dr. Allen. “For ‘Future London,” it’s not all that futuristic, is it? Where are the jetpacks and the robots?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m so sorry that the future isn’t completely what you’d hoped it would be.” Dr. Allen shrugs nonchalantly. “Now. If you’re done gawking, then we can begin discussing business. Follow me.”

As they follow Dr. Allen through the streets, Flora casts a questioning glance up towards Paul. “What do you think about this?” she whispers.

“Feh. It’s all a trick. Although I’ll admit it’s a good one.” Paul waves his hands dismissively, then brings his arm to his mouth, stifling a theatrical cough. “As bad as the air quality is in ‘present’ London, it’s nowhere near this horrendous. Coupled with the yellow sky, either the Apocalypse happened within the last ten years, or we’re underground.”

Flora’s half-disappointed, but half-not. An underground city, particularly one that so closely mirrors an existing city, is almost as fascinating as a future one—and, as Paul had said before, now that she thinks of it, she’s a little disappointed at the lack of futuristic technology. “So there’s still a chance for the jetpacks, then,” she says thoughtfully.

Paul chuckles. “If you get started on inventing them tomorrow, then there’s a slim chance that they’ll be around in ten years.”

“You could invent them too, you know,” Flora says mildly.

“Let’s stay focused on the present, my friends,” Dr. Allen says lightly. “Right this way.” Turning the corner, they enter a large tunnel, and Flora stares up in awe at the sloped roof above them, the beautiful stone-tiled road, and the pretty shops lining the walls.

“A pretty little arcade, isn’t it?” Dr. Allen says proudly, leading them toward a restaurant built into the wall of the arcade. “It’s a pity that it has no counterpart in the present. I hope this restaurant is to your liking. My partner is very fond of the place, although I don’t entirely trust his judgement.”

“You’re paying, right?” snorts Paul as the group steps through the door.

Dr. Allen raises an eyebrow. “Of course; you’re my guests. Paul, you wound me.”

“My name is Don Paolo, Allen.”

It’s strange to hear Paul reacting adversely to being called… well, Paul; Flora’s grown so used to calling him that over the last several months. Yes, he wanted to be called “Don Paolo” at first, but after the first ten times she’d called him so, he’d grunted that it was “too formal, and that she should call him “Paul” instead. Flora’s secretly glad of that; the name had always struck her as funny, but she’d hate to offend him by giggling by mistake.

Dr. Allen shrugs, and the three of them take a seat at the table, the cook coming to take their order. “Just coffee for me,” he says nonchalantly, “but give these two whatever they like. I’ll be paying.”

Paul gets a coffee as well—a smart move, Flora thinks; he wants to seem like an equal match to Dr. Allen. Flora would do the same, but upon further consideration, she just gets water; she’s not sure that she could handle anything more right now, with the amount of butterflies in her stomach. Her nerves are frayed, and being seated here, in the Future, in front of the man that summoned them here, is only exacerbating her anxiety.

“I supposed I was careless, Paul,” Dr. Allen finally says, as the coffee arrives at the table. Once again, he raises an eyebrow, glancing in Flora’s direction. “I never thought to tell you to come alone, simply because I never thought there’d be anyone who wanted to come with you.”

Flora blinks. What a rude thing to say! But now that she thinks about it, Paul really doesn’t seem to have any friends, except for her. He doesn’t often leave their flat, except when they both go to the lab to work on their engineering projects. Occasionally he’ll go off on his own, but he never talks about seeing anybody else.

Of course, there is his archnemesis, Hershel Layton, but they certainly aren’t friends, not with how Layton hurt Paul in the past! Paul never talks about what that man did, but Flora doesn’t want to force him to tell her, as curious as she is. Whatever it might be, it must’ve been traumatic, and she wouldn’t want to make him remember anything painful. But other than Layton, Flora can’t think about anybody else that Paul even knows.

Well, there is that framed picture of that pretty lady with glasses on his work desk, but Flora doesn’t even know her name, let alone if she and Paul are friends.

“If you want to know who she is, you can just ask,” Paul scowls.

“I’m his apprentice,” Flora chimes in eagerly. “I’m studying engineering, and disguises, and robotics, and… and lots of things.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Dr. Allen chuckles. “I never thought you had it in you, Paul. I knew you were good with disguises, but masquerading as a mentor is a new one for you.”

“As far as you know.” Paul shrugs. “It’s not as if we were ever best friends or anything. There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.”

“True, true.” Dr. Allen leans forward, resting his chin on his hands. “But at least there was one thing that we had in common. And that’s what I’d like to talk about today.”

A shadow crosses Paul’s face. Is that… sadness in his eyes? “I’m not really in the mood to reminisce, Dimitri.”

“Maybe not. But perhaps you’re in the mood to help me make those precious memories reality once again?” There’s a feverish light in Dimitri’s eyes, despite his serene expression. “What if I told you that my time machine—”

A time machine?

Flora’s mind starts racing. A real time machine? Could it really exist? How does it work? What—

“That’s what killed her, Allen.” Paul’s harsh voice cuts through Flora’s daydream. “You’re delusional if you think that it’ll actually work, or that I’ll waste my time helping you.”

“I don’t think I’m delusional,” Dimitri says calmly, but Flora can see pain in his face. “But even if I am, at least I’ve got a plan. What are you going to do if you don’t help me? Continue living in your delusion of thinking Layton cares one iota about being your ‘archnemesis?’” He stands slowly. “I’m giving you a chance to help bring her back. It’s up to you if you’ll take it. I’ll give you five minutes to think it over.”

Before either of them can say anything, Dimitri exits the room.

Flora avoids looking at Paul, staring into her water glass. She feels like it isn’t her place to say anything, as curious as she is; she should wait for—

“I suppose you want to know what in the world is going on.” Paul grunts, crossing his arms, and stares into one of the paintings adorning the wall.

“If you want to tell me,” Flora says hesitantly. “I mean, it’s not really my business, is it?”

“Well, you are my apprentice, so it’s at least partly your business. Especially since you’ll be helping me make my final decision.” Paul sighs. “You’ve seen that picture on my desk, right?”

Flora blinks. “That pretty lady?”

A small smile colours Paul’s face. “Yes. She was… well, she was a friend. Well, she… she died almost ten years ago.”

Flora bites her lip. So that’s why he takes such good care of that picture. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Paul shrugs. “It was a long time ago,” he says dismissively, but Flora can hear the sadness behind the words. “She worked with him,” he says, gesturing dismissively toward the door, “building a time machine, and she died because it malfunctioned, exploding and killing her and nine other people. I… Well, I blamed him for a while, even though it wasn’t only his fault. I felt like, since he was lucky enough to work with her, he should’ve been there to save her. My only satisfaction was that he blamed himself too.” He chuckles wryly. “You probably think I’m awful now, don’t you?”

“N-no, not at all!” Flora hurries to assure him. “I… I understand why you reacted that way.” It’s all too easy to search for a scapegoat when there’s nobody else to blame. She remembers how much she hated and feared Dahlia for replacing Mama, when Dahlia really did nothing wrong… but it’s too late to mend that. She pushes the thought to the back of her mind. “But there’s a chance to bring her back, then isn’t there? If he’s got the time machine working, now.”

Paul snorts. “No way that he’ll ever actually get it to work. Not after it failed so spectacularly last time.”

Flora shouldn’t feel so disappointed at his words, but she does. She wants to find out more about this time machine. Before today, she’d hardly even thought of the concept, but now that she knows it’s something that could plausibly exist, she wants to find out more. But Paul so easily dismissed the idea. Maybe he’s right about that; after all, it did fail ten years ago. But that doesn’t mean it will fail today.

(What if she could bring her parents back?)

(What if she can bring Paul’s friend back to life?)

“Shouldn’t we give him a chance?” she asks tentatively. “Maybe he can tell us exactly how he plans to do it, and then we can make a more informed decision.”

“The only thing he’ll inform us with is more of his delusions.” But Paul looks at her curiously. “You’re really excited by this time machine thing, aren’t you?”

Is it really that obvious? Flora flushes, staring into her drinking glass once again. “Maybe a little bit. I just… I just think that if there’s a chance that it works, then we should consider all our options.”

She waits in silence for Paul’s reply. Finally, he sighs, chuckling. “Why is it always so hard to say no to you?” He stands, heading towards the door to let Dimitri back in. “Fine, fine. We’ll listen to him ramble for a few more minutes, and find out what he wants from us, and then we can decide what we’ll do.”

Flora smiles after him. “Thanks for listening to reason, Paul,” she says jokingly.

Paul grins back at her. “Don’t mention it.”

#professor layton #don paolo #flora reinhold #dimitri allen #layton AUs #my fanfiction #this is the first thing I've completed in more than a month so I'm kind of rusty haha...#but I'm really glad i managed to complete something finally

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wookie92 · 3 years

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WHAT IT’S LIKE TO HAVE A MICROPENIS

My micropenis is approximately ½ to 1 inch long when flaccid and 3.3 inches long when fully erect. When fully erect it has an upward angle and a slight banana curve. It is also very thin (2.8), though proportional to the length. According to calculations my penis has a volume of 36.19 ml / 1.22 fl oz (us). Various studies suggest that the average American penis is 2.8–3.9 inches flaccid and around 4.7–6.3 inches when erect. According to online information at SIZEMEUP, in a room of 1000 guys only 1 would be shorter than me.

In an adult, the average stretched penile length is about 13.24 cm (5.21 in.). An adult micropenis is a stretched penile length of 9.32 cm (3.67 in.) or less. Growing up I remember reading that a micropenis was defined as any penis shorter than 2.8 inches in length. But have been subsequently given new information that slid me well under the 3.67 inch upper limit.

Where Do I Stand On The Penis Size Chart?

All this to say: the majority of average flaccid penises are longer than mine when I am erect.

I cannot say that I am deeply ashamed of my micropenis, but certainly I have experienced shame with regard to my size. I can say that I am extremely self aware of my penis size. This is largely because of the of things I hear women and women say about micropenis, and people’s reaction to my own micropenis.

I can only speak from personal experience, but the number of times I have heard women making fun of men for the size of their manhood is staggering. At one time, I actually overheard three or four of my colleagues at work all agreeing that "men with small dicks should be required to wear a warning sign."

In school, especially high school and as an undergraduate, I was subject to a lot of hazing and bullying that was directly connected to my having a micropenis. As a sophomore in high school I was depantsed at the pool by three bullies when I got an unwanted erection. They lifted me up and held my arms behind me to prevent me from covering my erection so the entire PE class present saw what happened. The coach had left the pool area when it happened. While the three boys were penalized, the damage was done any my “secret” became known through out the school before the end of the day. The teasing commenced immediately and was unrelenting. Even my mother got calls from some friends who had heard about the incident (and my condition). My mother reacted in anger at me that somehow I was responsible for the situation (and her subsequent embarrassment). No empathy there. I was depantsed three more times before I graduated from high school and it was clear to me why I was being targeted.

I was on the swim team and during a competition with a neighboring town, discovered that two of the players from that town recognized me as the guy with the “baby dick” which got shouted as I started my event. So, word had spread. I felt like a pariah.

Numerous scientific studies have suggested time and again that for the majority of women in the western world, tiny penises are simply undesirable. I am 28 and have had just only three sexual experiences (through personal choice) with women, two of which were very humiliating, to say the least.

In high school, my first consensual sexual encounter was with a boy named Billy. I was 13 and he was 15. He was interested in anal sex, and wanted to top me. I was willing to bottom despite the fact that he was very well endowed. He did tease me about my micropenis, but seemed to accept it. I was not prepared for how painful the experience of bottoming would be, but he continued to be interested in me, and treated me well (we even kissed) so I was willing to continue to have sex with him as a bottom. I fell in love. Then he disclosed to his homophobic older brother that we had been having sex and that put an end to our relationship. His brother let me know (rather violently) that I was to stay away from Billy or he would castrate and kill me. Billy, who had a black eye, never spoke to me again.

My first sexual encounter with a woman happened during my Junior year in high school. She was a sophomore and I was a Junior. When I undressed I could tell she was “shocked” even though she was a virgin and had never seen a man naked. She has seen photographs of naked men, and she had a brother in college. She was well pleased with my digital and oral skills, and actually squirted into my mouth (something I didn’t even know was a “thing” that might happen). Unfortunately when I attempted to penetrate her, my condom slipped off, and my orgasm was triggered prematurely as I was trying to thrust into her. She tried to push me off of her as I locked up and started squirting, and was furious that I had ejaculated into her vagina. She said she could feel me ejaculating. She got up and douched. I was too embarrassed to speak more than an apology. I helped pay for her “morning after” pill and discovered that she had disclosed the whole evening, including my premature ejaculation, and condom mishap, to her friends.

As a freshman in college I encountered a very attractive university student who seemed to be attracted to me. When I stripped, she stared at my micropenis, giggled, and put her hand to her mouth, muttering simply "OK" in a tone that suggested she was taken aback. When it came to actually performing, first I found that the condom wouldn’t stay on, but more frustratingly, my micropenis kept falling out every time I tried to penetrate her. She actually asked the traditional joke question, "Is it in?" mistaking my penis for my finger. I wanted to die. It was clear that she was getting nothing out of the experience. I genuinely tried my best to make her happy via oral sex, but she didn't orgasm or enjoy that either. I suspect her encounter with my penis through a wet blanket over the whole experience. When at last I finally thought I was making her content, she suddenly huffed in an annoyed way and got up, saying she needed to use the restroom. And that was the end of it.

I can only imagine the level of disappointment and frustration she must have felt. It must have been a horrendous experience for her.

I decided after that to become a master of cunnilingus so that any future women I encountered would be satisfied, if not by my penis, then my oral skills would more than make up for it. And I did master the art.

While in graduate school at the University of Texas in Austin, I met and married a girl. We had engaged in some sexual activity before our marriage, so she was aware of my micropenis. However our marriage was short lived when I discovered she had been having sex with my then best friend. When I confronted her with her lack of fidelity, she blamed my shortcomings as a lover and told me that my micropenis disgusted her.

Since that time I have mainly had sexual experiences with gay men, though I had a threesome with a woman that went very well.

Aside from personal experiences, the media doesn’t help my self-esteem either. Men with small penis are an ongoing source of amusement in TV shows and movies. I noticed that penis shaming was mostly reserved for villains and comic sidekicks who were never taken seriously. There are more TV shows with “little dick jokes” than shows that don’t have them. No shows make fun of women’s breast size, but targeting men with small penises as a source of humor seems to be socially acceptable. All that tells me that the writers don’t really care if men with small penises are offended or hurt.

The way the media treats the body-shaming of men compared to the body-shaming of women is wildly different. When Donald Trump makes questionable comments about the looks of women, he rightly causes outrage. Lists and videos decrying his sexist remarks have gone viral. Yet when a naked model of Trump with a micropenis was displayed in public in New York City, it was treated like a punch line rather than an attack. Some publications even called it a wonderful piece of art. Hundreds of Americans now have selfies of them laughing at Trump and his micropenis. We defend Heidi Cruz and Megyn Kelly, but where are the people defending small penises? I am no Trump supporter, but targeting him because of his small penis seems wrong.

GUYS WITH MICROPENISES KNOW THEY ARE NOT WELL-ENDOWED, THEY DON’T NEED REMINDING OF IT.

From my experience (having read hundreds of articles, forum posts, videos, and having spoken to hundreds of men and women online), it feels safe to say that the overwhelming majority of sexual partners aren't thrilled about the prospect of sex with micropenises. And if we don’t accept that these views are likely the majority, then we are never going to challenge this blatant discrimination.

I would like to ask people to think about this: If you are attracted to somebody enough to ask them to bed, and if the guy is kind to you, is it fair to write him off based on size alone?

So what do I plan to do about my love life?

Luckily I am bisexual and enjoy the company of men as well as women. I fear that straight men with the micropenis condition suffer worse shame than men in the gay community. Let me be clear, a great many gay men are “size queens” and I have been rejected by more than a few gay men, but now that so many men can meet on line I have been able to meet men who actually “prefer” men with small dicks and so they are not surprised by what I have to offer when we meet. Many of them enjoy SPH (Small Penis Humiliation), but in my life I have adapted to being the subject of humor and, in some cases, can even find that sexually arousing.

So the answer to that question is “nothing”. I try to focus my life on my work, my writing, working out, outdoors activities, sports, and other subjects that interest me. If I started to look for love, it would just make me feel down, and I already struggle with depression and anxiety secretly. I don’t need the humiliation and hurt that looking for love would bring me. Sure, everybody gets rejected, but usually for less hurtful reasons. As a bottom, many men don’t care how well I am hung. Instead they care about how I make them feel when they fuck me, and I have learned to be a power bottom.

Guys with micropenises know we are not well-endowed, we don’t need to be reminded of it. If I’m attracted to a sexual partner, then what they have in their pants doesn’t matter to me; I care more about what that partner has in his/her heart. My extreme self-consciousness about my body makes me feel like everyone else's opinion must be right, that there is something wrong with my size. I just wish people could look past it, so I could too. Because intellectually I know my size is just a variation.

I try to look at it this way. Not everyone is attracted to red hair, or freckles, or blue eyes, or black skin, or hairy chests. People are attracted to differing qualities. As long as I can find some people who are interested in the qualities I possess, and are also interested n me personally, than I am gratified.

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taeyongdoyoung · 3 years

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summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, romance, angst, fantasy

warnings: kidnapping, water deprivation (?), swearing, manipulation, eavesdropping, jealousy, betrayal (?), i think that’s it, but pls let me know if i missed anything triggering!!!

author’s note: sorry for the huuuge hiatus, i’ve been working on other things and also uni has been really hectic, i hope you guys enjoy this new chapter!

word count: 2.5k

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter four ☠️ chapter five ☠️ chapter six ☠️ chapter eight ☠️chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen ☠️ spotify playlist

You were trapped inside a fishnet. Everything was so dark and dry you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t tell exactly where you were, all you knew was that Soojin was nearby and she was screaming in a panicked way.

“Relax, Soojin, we’ll get out of here,” you tried to comfort your sister.

“HOW?” she cried out. “WE’LL DIE HERE!”

You attempted to not freak out and focus on what you knew. Someone had thrown fishnets at you two and you were now left without water. Which meant that this wasn’t Hongjoong’s ship. No matter how much he hated you, you knew that Seonghwa would never let Hongjoong do anything like this. But you were still positive that this was a pirate ship. What you couldn’t find out was who had taken you two and why?

Fortunately (or not), your questions were answered soon enough, as a tall figure approached, holding up a torch that lit up the front part of the ship, giving you a chance to examine your surroundings.

“Where did you get the ring?” the man asked Soojin as he pulled it out of her finger.

Soojin gulped nervously and even though you both knew it was Yeosang that given her the ring, to your surprise, she lied.

“I found it. Now will you let us go?”

The tall figure laughed darkly.

“No. Because you’re lying, you little thief.”

Shit. You were in big trouble.

“Let’s see how a week without water will do you,” he hissed. “Pathetic mermaids.”

“Wait,” you yelled after him, intending to tell him the truth rightaway. You couldn’t risk dying over this. But before you could open your mouth again, Soojin dug her fingernails into your hand, preventing you from speaking up.

“ROT IN HELL,” she screamed at the man as he was walking away.

“Oh, darling, I’m already in it.”

Once he was out of earshot, you struggled in the dark to focus on Soojin’s features.

“Why did you lie to him, Soojin?” you hissed in frustration. “You don’t owe Yeosang anything!”

“If I told him the truth, he would go after Yeosang!”

“And you’d rather die than let anything happen to your sweetheart, is that it?” you sighed.

“Yes, I’d die happy if I knew he was safe.”

“What about me, Soojin?” you groaned. “How is this fair? I don’t want to die here to ensure some human will live.”

“You won’t die. You said it yourself. We’ll get out of here,” Soojin tried to sound hopeful.

“If we don’t, I’ll haunt you in the afterlife,” you vowed threateningly.

“I deserve that,” she chuckled sadly.

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

You couldn’t tell how much time had passed. You felt so tired and hopeless and as if you were minutes away from drawing your last breath. Soojin was in a similar state. Your initial idea to claw your way out of the ropes had proven to be futile. Not only was that impossible to achieve, but the lack of fluids was weakening your bodies in such a way that you no longer had any idea if it was day or night. You promised to yourself that if the tall man who’d trapped you here appeared again, you would tell him everything about Yeosang. You didn’t want to die and follow Soojin on her suicide mission. But no matter how much time passed, the dark figure didn’t return. You were done for. And despite how badly you hated humans (pirates, in particular) in that moment, you still wished you could see Seonghwa once more. Let him know that you didn’t blame him for Ariel’s death. That the real monsters were the sea witch and his parents for separating him from his loved one in such a cruel way. But you couldn’t even do that. Couldn’t even hear his voice again…

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

We were on a journey across the sea with no specific direction when suddenly, we ran into Mingi’s ship by accident. I wondered if he noticed us and if he would attack us. It had been a while since our last encounter when that bastard cut off Yeosang’s right hand. It had also been a while since the last time I talked to Y/N. I missed her and I was so mad at everyone standing in the way of our friendship. Imagine my surprise, when I spotted a large fishnet hanging from Mingi’s ship, tied up to the figurehead, tall enough so as to not touch the water. I squinted in order to see better and soon enough, realized that whatever was inside, was too big to be a regular fish. No. Fucking. Way. Were those mermaids? I didn’t know what came over me, maybe it was my gut feeling, but I knew I had to save them. Even if I didn’t know them, I couldn’t have another mermaid death weighing on my conscience. I hurriedly rushed to talk to my fellow mates and tell them what I’d seen. We had to make a decision quickly or else Mingi’s ship would sail away and then, it would be more difficult to trace him.

“Guys, I think Mingi’s trapped a couple of mermaids inside a fishnet!” I screamed.

“What? We have to help the poor creatures!” Yeosang replied, backing me up. I gave him a thankful wink.

“I agree,” Wooyoung added and pointed towards the fishnet that was still in our field of vision. “Look! That asshole is not letting them touch the water!”

“Oh, no, that’s horrendous!” San exclaimed. “I’ve heard that mermaids can’t last long without water.”

“All the more reason to save them,” I insisted.

“I don’t think this is a sensible idea,” Hongjoong argued.

“Please, whatever your ridiculous vendetta against mermaids is about, it can wait,” Yeosang complained.

“It’s not just about the mermaids, Yeo,” our captain responded. “The last time we fought Mingi, it didn’t end well,” he purposefully stared at Yeosang’s missing hand, as if to remind him. Yeosang gave him a dirty look and took his sword out, skillfully managing it with his left hand, as if to prove a point. “Mingi is too powerful and dangerous, if we confront him, we may risk losing not just a hand, but our lives.”

I pulled Hongjoong aside and whispered in his ear.

“Do you want them to know that you lied to Mingi? That you told him the mermaids killed the sea witch?”

“I did that to protect you,” Hongjoong hissed.

“Nonsense. You did that selfishly because you wanted to get rid of Y/N. Be very careful what you say next.”

“Come on, guys!” Wooyoung urged us to cut it off. “Mingi’s ship is getting away!”

“Yeah, make a decision already!” San groaned.

“It’s your call, Captain,” I addressed Hongjoong. “Choose wisely. You might gain something if you stop us but you’ll lose something far more important.”

“Are you threatening me?” Hongjoong furrowed his brows. “Don’t forget who’s in charge, Hwa.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything. It’s you who forgot how to show compassion to those in need,” I reminded him. “You saved all of us. That’s why we’re loyal to you. Why can’t you help us save these mermaids, too? Would it really kill you if you tried?”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

“Fine. But if one of you gets hurt, it’s not on me, it’s on you, Hwa. Remember that in case things go wrong.”

“We can take care of ourselves, thank you very much.”

And with that, we pulled out our weapons. It was time to attack Mingi’s ship and get those poor mermaids out of these fishnets.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

This was a terrible idea, but Seonghwa put me in such a position that it was impossible to refuse. We hurriedly threw ropes with hooks at Mingi’s ship in order to get on board. The plan was that Yeosang and I would confront Mingi ourselves, while Seonghwa, Wooyoung and San cut off the fishnets and free the mermaids into the sea. I knew that it was a big risk, but a part of me also knew that I was partially responsible for this happening. If I hadn’t been so petty to tell Mingi that the mermaids were to blame for the sea witch’s death, we wouldn’t be here right now. As we were looking for Mingi, I was surprised at how relaxed Yeosang seemed. Honestly, I admired him for his bravery.

“Hey, bastard!” Yeosang yelled as he stormed into the captain’s cabin. “Face me, you coward!”

Mingi was obviously taken aback by Yeosang’s recklessness and it took him a while to find his sword. While he was frantically looking for it, I grabbed him by the collar and hissed.

“You betrayed us and cut off Yeosang’s hand, Mingi. You’re not getting out of this.”

“What’s your problem? I thought mermaids were our common enemy, Hongjoong,” Mingi exposed my secret and I loosened my grip on him, ashamed by my actions.

Yeosang didn’t seem fazed at all, he simply pointed his sword towards Mingi’s neck.

“You had it all wrong, Mingi,” Yeosang informed him calmly. “The mermaids didn’t kill the sea witch. It’s humans you should be scared of,” he added, without specifying too much and attacked.

I was frozen in place for a couple of seconds, which was enough for Mingi to regain his composure and defend himself.

“You knew?” I whispered to Yeosang as the two of us charged faster against Mingi.

“I may have overheard your conversation,” Yeosang replied coldly.

“Why didn’t you tell us you knew all along?” I asked as I tried to hold Mingi off.

“Why didn’t you tell me yourselves?” Yeosang countered and disarmed Mingi.

“Go ahead, then! Kill me already,” Mingi incited us.

“No,” Yeosang refused. “I want you to live with the consequences of your actions,” he dropped the sword and once again took that damned ring from Mingi. “Tie him up, Hongjoong.”

“Why are you suddenly giving the orders?” I complained but pulled Mingi close as I wrapped a rope around his wrists.

“I literally have one hand, how am I supposed to tie him up?” Yeosang groaned.

“That’s fair.”

☠️☠️☠️

Yeosang’s POV

“Soojin!” I cried out in relief as soon as I saw her back into the sea and freed from those terrible fishnets. I jumped into the water and kissed her. “Are you alright?”

“My love, what happened to your hand?” she inquired worriedly.

“Mingi, that bastard who trapped you, cut it off,” I informed her. “But don’t worry, Hongjoong’s currently taking him as a prisoner to our ship.”

“I don’t understand,” Soojin whimpered. “I didn’t tell him anything about the ring, why would he come after you?”

“I know you didn’t, my brave girl,” I reassured her and hugged her. “I’m just glad you’re okay now.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Honestly? I’d like to say I was destined to find you, but the truth is we ran into Mingi’s ship by chance. Seonghwa saw the fishnets and realized whatever was inside seemed too big to be fish.”

“What did you just call me?” Soojin joked, pretending to be offended.

“No, I just meant that…”

“Relax, I was only teasing,” Soojin laughed. “Thank you for saving us, darling. Another minute without water and I probably would have died.”

“I’m happy we came on time, then,” I smiled at her and pressed my forehead against hers.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

The minute the mermaids were free from the fishnets and back into the sea, I realized we had saved not just any mermaids, but Y/N and Soojin. I jumped right after them, not even bothering to check if Mingi had been successfully captured and soon enough, Yeosang joined me to talk to Soojin, quickly informing us that Hongjoong had taken Mingi back to our ship and he would no longer be able to harm anyone.

“You’re safe now,” I hugged Y/N and whispered words of reassurance in her ear, immediately forgetting all about our last encounter and the fact that she might need more time to accept what she’d learned about me and Ariel. The only thing that mattered was that she was okay. “You’re alright.”

“H-how did you know we were t-trapped?” she stammered.

“It was by accident.”

“Thank the fates,” Y/N sighed. “We wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”

“Did Mingi hurt you?”

She shook her head.

“Other than the no water thing, no, he didn’t.”

“Good. I would have killed him but…”

“No more death,” she spoke gently. “I’m beyond happy to see you, Seonghwa. I missed you terribly.”

“So did I, dearest. Does that mean you’re willing to forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Y/N replied. “I can no longer bear being parted from you. Not even for a minute.”

Her words broke my resolve to respect her boundaries and remain loyal to Hongjoong despite what he’d done to me and I kissed her. To my utter disbelief, she kissed me back, her fingers holding onto my hair for dear life. When I finally pulled away, we were both out of breath.

“I’m so s-sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“No! I wanted you to.”

“You did?”

“Of course! Seonghwa, I like you so much. And even though it hurts…I think Ariel would have wanted you to move on and to be happy.”

“Well, you make me happy.”

“Right back at you,” Y/N smiled fondly.

For the briefest of moments, we were in our own little world and I had forgotten all about the rest of the world with its problems. But then I made the mistake of looking away from her and I saw him.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

I couldn’t exactly interrupt them. I didn’t deserve it after all. I mean, not after being so harsh to Y/N, not after telling the secret about Seonghwa’s past to Y/N, and certainly not after lying to Mingi about the mermaids’ non-existent involvement in the sea witch’s death. I felt like a piece of shit for hurting them and yet, I couldn’t look away, either. It was no longer jealousy I was feeling. I knew I had it coming. It was so strange to me when I realized I felt perfectly calm to watch them embracing and kissing. I was even enjoying this, in some perverted way. And then Seonghwa spotted me. Soon after, Y/N did, too. I was so embarrassed that I had been caught observing them that I immediately turned around and started walking towards the inside of the ship, anywhere that would ensure avoiding them like the plague. They didn’t bother to yell after me and I was thankful for that. I was in no mood to explain myself or talk to them or anything. And despite the fact that she’d taken him away from me, I was glad that she’d survived. No creature deserved to be left without water for so long and I could only imagine how much worse such an ordeal would be to a mermaid. In any case, I was relieved that Mingi was in one of our cells now. Coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Two lives were saved and we had finally defeated him. Our former friend, who was also our enemy and now, our prisoner. When had life gotten so damn complicated?

To be continued…

#ateez #seonghwa #hongjoong #yeosang #mingi #seongjoong #seonghwa x reader #ateez angst #ateez x reader #soojin #(g)i-dle #pirate au #mermaid au #writing

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bubblesuga · 4 years

Text

Oblivious To Adoration - 4

Summary: After an intense night of drunken sex, Jungkook realizes he wants more. When he suggests an idea to you, you were shocked. However, who were you to say no to Mr. Jeon Jungkook?

W/C: 2,165

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Warnings: angst, mature language, fluff

You weren’t sure when it started to rain. All you knew was as you sat on the swing at the park in the center of your apartment complex, you felt a shiver run through your spine.

The sky was a dull grey, an intense crack of thunder causing you to jump on the swing. The chains rattled around you, the few kids who played in the field in front of you rushing into the safety of the breezeways as it started to pour. You couldn’t feel the raindrops wetting your hair, the only thing your body could process was the horrendous thud of your heart inside your rib cage.

It hadn’t been long since you talked to Jungkook in Namjoon’s apartment. Maybe a few days, you weren’t sure. You felt so conflicted that you weren’t sure what to do about everything, or how to sort through the maze of that is your mind. It seems like every time you thought you found a solution, you would over think it to the point where nothing seemed plausible.

On one hand, you could admit your feelings for Jungkook and live a long and happy life together. It’s the option you wanted the most, because everything Jungkook described was exactly what you wished for. Imagining him in his boxers, humming a song to himself while you sleepily patter into the kitchen and wrap your arms around his waist...

On the other hand, it could end badly. You didn’t have the best track record with dating, and every time you thought it was going great, they would cheat. That’s not to say you’d thought Jungkook would cheat, but you’ve never had an example of a healthy relationship. Your parents’ constant back and forth and watching your friends get their hearts broken over and over again only caused you to stray away from commitment.

You wished so badly that you could just go with the flow, to just try, but your anxiety prevents you from doing so.

“(Y/N)?” You hear a call from the direction of your apartment.

You tore your eyes away from the sky, gripping the chain tighter while you turn to look. To your surprise, Jimin stands on the grass with an umbrella in his hand. Silently, he makes his way over to you to and grabs your hand. You allow him to guide you, not realizing how much your shivering until you’re back in the comfort of your apartment.

“Who thought it could rain so hard in the summer?” Jimin chuckles, shaking off the water from the umbrella then looking at you with a smile.

“Okay, now tell me what happened.” Jimin sits beside you, watching as you curl yourself beneath the throw blanket from the back of your couch.

You shrug, “I thought you already knew.”

“I knew about the beginning. I pushed Jungkook to make a move and I shouldn’t have.” Jimin leans back, running a hand through his dark brown locks. He looks stressed, dark bags beneath each of his eyes. Concealer covered them slightly, a sad attempt to hide his exhaustion.

“Why do you say that?” You question, gnawing anxiously at your bottom lip.

Jimin turns to you, a sad smile on his face, “Jungkook hasn’t talked to me. I wracked my brain for hours trying to figure out what I could have possibly done wrong then I realized it was probably my sad attempt at pushing him out of his comfort zone.”

To Jimin’s surprise, you let out a laugh before burying your face in the pillow on your thighs. Before you knew it, your laughter turned into a sob and Jimin was quick to comfort you. His hand drew soft circles between your shoulder blades while you quieted your sobs with the pillow.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, that’s not it,” you look up, wiping the tears from your face, “I just feel fucking stupid for coming between your guys’ friendship. I shouldn’t have agreed to anything in the first place.”

Jimin’s pitiful attempt to comfort you seemed to do more harm than good when you begin to wipe more silent tears that slipped out of your eyes. He sighs, pulling you to his chest and resting his chin on the top of your head while you continue to cry.

“Jungkook told me he wants to be with me,” you finally start, using your sleeve to wipe beneath your nose, “and I got scared.”

You can feel Jimin nod above you, his hand moving from your back to your arm, “Why are you scared?”

You swallow, not sure how to put into words exactly what you’re feeling. Deflection seemed to be your best bet, “You don’t seem surprised that Jungkook told me he wants to be with me.”

“Because I’m not,” he answers truthfully, “that man has liked you since the beginning and we all could see it. I’m more surprised that you couldn’t see it.”

“I guess I’m oblivious.”

Jimin watches you pull away, giving you a small smile. You are oblivious. Jimin is keenly aware that Jungkook is madly in love with you, from the moment he saw you. There was something different about the way you carried yourself that had Jungkook on his knees begging for you, but only in his mind. He opened himself up to Jimin a lot, and Jimin couldn’t see how Jungkook telling you how he feels could have ended badly.

He didn’t take you to be the type to run, and he had to figure out why.

“You are. Now tell me why you’re scared.” Jimin presses gently. He has such a calming voice, you felt your chest loosen with every word, ridding you of your anxiety.

“I’ve never had an example of a healthy relationship,” You stutter your way through your admission, feeling your throat choke up, “I’m gonna fuck it up with him. I’m gonna inadvertently sabotage the relationship and then I will have lost my best friend, Jimin. He’s the one person that I want around forever and I know I’ll fuck it up.”

Your ramblings came out clearer than your thoughts were, Jimin only listening intently to every word. As much as he enjoyed being the key advice giver of the friend group, there were times where he heart broke for his friends.

“Why do you think that?” He says after a moment.

“I don’t think I deserve this love.”

Then it all makes sense.

Your entire life you had blamed your inability to love on the fact that you weren’t sure what love is. Building up a wall and tearing it down repeatedly until you finally gave in and accepted the fact that maybe it just wasn’t meant for you. You weren’t ever going to be able to find someone who can love you until you find the ability to love yourself.

However, you had found someone who loves you. Who’s willing to work with you, fight for you, until you love yourself as much as he loves you. Maybe the first step to loving someone else isn’t loving yourself, but rather finding someone you can learn to love yourself with.

“(Y/N)...” Jimin trails off, feeling his own chest swell with pain while he looked at you, “you deserve every ounce of love he gives you. Fuck what happened with your parents, with your exes. How are you ever going to find the one if you’re not willing to work for it?”

“I- I’ll text him.”

~*~*~

Jungkook’s foot pressed onto the gas, switching gears and ramming his way through the intersection.

As soon as he got your text, he was in his car. He hadn’t even thought about putting on shoes or pants, instead rushing out in nothing but his white t-shirt and boxers. Admittedly he regretted the decision once he noticed how wet the sidewalks were, and how cold the breeze was, but he didn’t care because you were finally ready to talk.

Whether it end badly or well, he needed some sort of closure because he was an absolute mess without you. Namjoon had texted him repeatedly after you left his apartment, asking if everything was okay. Jungkook couldn’t respond, only sighing at the texts and locking his phone before trying to sleep.

Then he kept that routine, waiting anxiously for your text.

As soon as he pulled into your parking lot, he was opening his door and running down the breezeway.

His fist lifts to knock on the door but he’s surprised when the door swings open before he could.

“Hey.” Jimin says simply, patting Jungkook’s shoulder.

He slips passed his friend, sending him a wink and disappearing around the corner of the hallway.

Jungkook furrows his brows, stepping inside of your apartment and spotting you on your couch. He hesitantly moves further inside, shutting the door and turning to you. You look up at him, your eyes red but a sad smile on your face.

“Should I mentally prepare myself for rejection?” He walks towards you, sitting far enough away from you to give you space but close enough to ease his anxiety from you being away from him.

“No, honey.” You pat the spot beside you, signalling for him to move closer.

Jungkook tries to ignore the way his heart races as he does so, but he can’t help the way he falls into your arms the minute you wrap them around him. He’s close to tears, your silent gesture enough to wipe away the fears that surrounded him for the past few days. Beckoning him closer, you allow him to rest his head on your shoulder and he turns to wrap his arms tightly around you.

The hoodie you wore was soft, and it smelled like you. He grins, trying to bite back tears.

“Did you have enough time to think?” He asks, his voice slightly muffled against your shoulder.

“I did. Jimin helped me out a bit too.” You explain, your earlier tears now gone and replaced with excitement for the future, but also a touch of uncertainty.

“And?”

“I’ll try this, but you have to promise me something.” Your hand had a mind of it’s own while you move it up to Jungkook’s head, your nails gently scratching his scalp.

“Of course, anything.” Jungkook says immediately, relaxing even more in your arms.

You lay both of you back on the couch, Jungkook cuddling into your side. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you felt at ease in this position, like you’re meant to be here.

“If this doesn’t work out, we still have to be friends. I don’t want to lose you, Kookie, and I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all.” You explain. Jimin had taken the time to help you put into words what you were feeling. After you had texted Jungkook, you realized you didn’t know what to say. Jimin took your jumbled mess of words and made it sound like poetry, and you were thankful for that. Had Jimin not shown up today, you would still be moping around your apartment with no intent on contacting Jungkook just yet.

Jungkook nods against you, “I’ll do anything, (Y/N).”

“Okay,” you let out a shaky breath, “thank you.”

Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean up, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek before taking his spot back on your chest. You feel the heat of his body radiating against you, a stark contrast to the cold rain you felt earlier.

“So we’re doing this?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah.” You reaffirm, letting yourself relax properly for the first time in days.

“So does this make you my girlfriend?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

Jungkook pulls his head off your chest, his eyes blown wild while he looks at you. Without a second thought, Jungkook presses a proper kiss to your lips. He swipes his tongue against your bottom lip, your lips opening for him immediately. His tongue explores your mouth while your hands fly to his hair.

Something felt different about this kiss. You hadn’t gone into it with the intent of taking it further, only to feel his lips against yours. Jungkook chuckled into the kiss when he heard you sigh happily.

When he pulls away, your eyes fly to his swollen upturned lips. He turns the smile into a smirk, “Okay, girlfriend.”

“Ew, let’s not make that a habit.” You cringe, laughing under his gaze.

“What? The title too much for you?” He questions. Though it came off jokingly, he had to swallow the feeling that you may only be agreeing to spare his feelings.

“No, but I like when you call me baby. Let’s stick to baby.” You explain, your chest fluttering while he smiles above you.

Jungkook then stands abruptly, “To celebrate, I’m ordering pizza.”

“Extra--”

“Extra cheese, I know, baby.” He cuts you off, sending a wink your way and picking up his phone.

Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all...

#hello hope y'all liked this #<3 #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook smut #bts #jeon jungkook x reader fluff #jungkook x reader fluff #jungkook fluff

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calypsoff · 3 years

Text

Ninety one.

I am not making no mistakes with this; I am making sure Robyn is back in bed with me. I mean of course I have been waking up with a lot of boners, horrendous, painful ones too but to have Robyn in my bed feels euphoric. She just makes me so happy; we woke up in each other’s arms and then she realised and mushed my face away from her, she is playing hard to get and I rather that then her hate me, she doesn’t hate me at all. She just wants to make me suffer but I love the chase, we have been getting on so well actually, even though she got me running around like a dog, but I take that, and she is getting me in shape, meaning she is making me work for it and I deserve it to be honest but I have got it sorted, the bedroom is how it should be. New sheets, everything cleaned, all the clothes put away, the bathroom smells like lemons. It cost a little though, the pool is clean too, but I rather do this then Robyn be angry with me “I see you listened?” looking behind me “can you tell?” I chuckled “my shoes are squeaky against the flooring, not an ounce of dust” turning to Mel laughing “I am uhm, I need to please her Mel and her home is a sanctuary and I messed that up so I had to do this for her and as you can see, this room looks great” I grinned, Mel nodded her head in agreement “I am glad you both are getting along, my sister is happy and that is all I want for her. Also I was sick of hearing that bottle machine going off too, I missed a lot of dick appointments too” I laughed out “I can imagine, those midnight feeds and stuff but I know this ain’t enough for her, she needs more. She ain’t going to let me lay the pipe with just clean sheets and I am ok with that, she is worth it. I think being at the hospital together we have spoken more then we ever had I think, it’s been every day pillow talk and talking about our feelings, in a weird way we probably missed out on that but this home needed to be done” licking my lips laughing “it did, I came actually because you’re driving me to the hospital Robyn said you was going” she is right I am “yeah, I just came to check on the home. I am happy with that” proud of it actually.

My parents are also staying at the house, it’s rather hectic here but not in a bad way. Robyn’ family or mine aren’t going to go until Rylee is out of the hospital “son” my dad put his arm around me “dad, mom” kissing my mom’ cheek “Monica, hey” they are all staring at me “oh yeah sorry, so Rylee they are doing the test again. Taken all her tubes out, got Robyn to feed her and then put her down for a nap, they want to see if she will be ok this time, fingers crossed. She was very grumpy, a little unhappy when she woke up this morning. I kind of stayed back, too many faces. The nurse was there too, I left it to Robyn to do. She fed her the bottle and put her down carefully, with the monitor on her foot to not get caught. She uhm started fussing, very unhappy. Started crying and stuff, Robyn was great she was on it, started talking to her touching her, speaking to her. She fell asleep with Robyn singing to her, she seems to like that a lot, but fingers crossed she is ok when she wakes up. I think honestly it will be maybe another day there and home, I hope but it’s good” all the family is all smiled “I am just wanting her home, I want Robyn to think of Rylee first. She needs to not flaunt her around, this could have been so much worse” Monica said in a huff, not happy about it “that is my fault though, I wasn’t there” I can’t let Robyn take the blame for it “I let Robyn and Rylee down, I wasn’t there to support her Monica. She doesn’t deserve this, she is a great mother, and any mother would take their daughter with them” Monica is not happy, I mean why would they be happy that their daughter was left “also I could have taken care of her, but I was busy, but she came first” looking over at Mel also piping up to stick by her “I understand” Monica turned her away, my dad squeezed my shoulder as for reassurance.

Everyone dispersed from the kitchen, and I think it’s my part to speak to Monica on my own, to say what I said I have let her daughter down when I promised I wouldn’t “can I talk to you?” I asked, I have the utmost respect for her, I do “of course” she stopped cleaning the counter “I uhm, I said what I said to you, and this more then likely has hurt you because I promised I wouldn’t hurt or upset your daughter, that I would be there for her, in the vows we did. That was promised, she was alone and looking after Rylee on her own, like a single mother if we are being real. Robyn wouldn’t ever come to anyone for help, I know her. I let you down, I let her down, I let my own daughter down and I am going to make that right. I will never forget seeing Robyn the way I did, she was broken because she was doing it alone, and that hurts, she felt she had nobody and I just think there is no need to be harsh on her, she tries” I am trying to put things into words but it’s hard “do you see Ronald here?” shaking my head “this is my daughter’ life, he will come when he wants money or something. An empty void that that he leaves when he constantly comes in and out, in and out of her life. He knows about Rylee, but he is busy, I am hard on her because I don’t want her to rely on man. She relies on man and then she gets weak, she sees dad she gets weak, she sees you she gets weak. I understand she was trying but she needed to reach out to me, to her brothers or anyone to help her. As much as you admit to your wrong doings you got to understand you need to be her rock and not her issue instead, I believe in chances, and I hope you can rise from this. I think you’re well suited for my family, I see good in you so don’t let me down. I don’t want no conversation like this again” I will be scared if we do, Monica is strict.

Dapping Rorrey “just woke up?” he looks like he has “yeah, I fell asleep on the couch. Mom was driving me crazy about waking up and stuff but here we are, I am awake” I can imagine Monica drive him crazy about waking up too “I am going to see Rylee now, see how she is. See how Robyn is, catch you there later if you have time” Mel is ready finally “always, I will be there. Is she awake and well? I know Robyn did text me saying she is ok, but she may be busy” nodding my head “yeah yeah, she is awake. They are trying it again, see if she is ok to be home and is breathing well. They woke her up and she was so upset, they were using this suction shit to clear her nose and Rylee was not having it, I feel useless because I just stayed back, Rylee seems to want Robyn more, so I didn’t want to be all there in their face, you know but hope she is ok this time when she wakes up” Rorrey got his hand out, dapping him again “hope so, need my niece back. I wanted to ask, has your dad even asked about my daughter?” he paused a little “erm, well. Not really, I mean he did ask and say is she ok but didn’t seem concerned. Said she will be good” nodding my head, sounds about right with him “cool, catch you later. Let’s go Forde” I better get back going to see my wife “buying me starbucks?” Mel asked, I snorted laughing.

I am not like that, I thought I would get Mel Starbucks, I know she asked as a joke but she asked so I paid and got Robyn something “look at you buying Robyn something too” grabbing the iced latte’s “have too, she would be looking at yours and then judging me for not getting her anything” passing Mel her drink and then putting Robyn’ in the cup holder “thank you ma’am” I said to the lady “and you” she smiled, furrowing my eyebrows as I drove off. I don’t know why she said thank you to me, I did nothing “you know you’re good looking don’t you?” frowning at her “I do?” I questioned “yeah, you were sat there chewing your bottom lip watching her make the drink and she got all shy when she gave them” letting out an oh laughing “your light skinned with tattoos, you will of course attract the ladies” I shrugged not saying a word “so is Robyn light skinned though” I added “a very loyal one” looking over at Mel “what does that mean?” I questioned “not a in a bad way, what I meant by that is whenever she gets into a relationship she puts her all into it. She’s always wanted love, me on the other hand, I just wanted fun” she chuckled “and she got that now, like I know I fucked up. I know my mouth runs with me, but I love Robyn with my whole heart” I defended myself “I know you do, trust me. At times when I am seeing you both I am jealous, you just need to correct yourself with that, it’s a learning curb but I love my sister, I will always ride for my sister” nodding my head “I like that though, loyalty” I like that about them both.

Gesturing for Mel to go in first “thank you, hey girl” Mel said, walking in behind Mel. Let me taste this shit, I don’t get why women always buying this thing “oh hey, nice to see your face here” Robyn shot up and hugged Mel, I gagged at the iced Latte. I prefer the regular normal Latte, why have it cold “oh you both been Starbucks? Didn’t remember me?” I know Robyn so well, I laughed lifting the drink up “this is yours, I just wanted a taste” Robyn cooed out “aww thank you” she came over to me to take the drink “what do you say now?” my hand still on the drink “I said thank you?” Robyn huffed out, poking my lips out “mhmm cheek” rolling my eyes “but you can kiss me? You are playing too much right now” Robyn turned her face “my cheek awaits” I rather not “I decline” Robyn turned to me “fine, lips then” my smile grew, leaning down to kiss her lips but then she turned her face “oh my god” mushing her face with mine “I swear to god, have the damn drink woman” Robyn giggled “thank you poppa” she calls me poppa so this is a win for me “you know what Rylee looks well within herself, like she was looking very pale” walking over to the bed “she’s lost weight don’t you think?” I hate my pookie has, her chunky thighs were adorable “she really has, she can gain it again, but she looks very well. I have a good feeling about this time around” nodding my head, I have amy fingers crossed.

I am sat on the other side of the bed across from Robyn, they are both talking amongst each other, and I am just sat here waiting on Rylee to wake up. She is sleeping for longer, but I think it’s because she exhausted and I don’t blame her, dragging my eyes away from Rylee and to Robyn. I need to do something for Robyn’ birthday, she missed out on it, and I need to make up for that. Once everything is back how it is, meaning Rylee then I will have to do something because she does deserve something and to celebrate her birthday “finished staring?” Robyn said, shaking my head “I have just started to be honest” tilting my head to the side “chile, you both need a room. That is all I am getting from you both right now” Mel got up from the chair “not from me, it’s him” Robyn is such a liar “no babe, you’re doing the teasing to him. Don’t give me that” Mel went to the bathroom “see, it’s you. You can’t help but flirt with me” I shrugged sitting back on the chair smirking “you? Yeah right, you’re the one humping my leg with your pencil” I snorted laughing “you’re annoying, you actually are” god I want her so bad “you love me don’t you?” She said while raising her eyebrow “more than anything” Robyn winked at me, more like blinked but it was something.

While and Mel and Robyn sit there and gossip I thought I would talk to TJ for a while “so when are you coming to VA? I miss you over here, I know with Rylee and everything but after? VA misses you” that is funny to hear “I don’t think they do bro but soon, I will visit because I need to speak to you about the business so it’s sooner then you think” Staring at Robyn waving me to go into the bed “uhm, I will call you back. Barbados wants me” Robyn side eyed as I watched her go into the bedroom and then put a finger up at me “aight cool, call me again and I am praying for little ry ry bro” getting up from the chair “thanks bro, give Cam a hug from me. Bye” disconnecting the call “you know why she want me?” I asked Mel as I tapped on the message from Deja “something about cutting your balls off” I sniggered, Deja just be texting just because. Locking the phone as I got into the bedroom “oh man, I was expecting you to be naked on the bed with your perky boobs out, oh man. I am so let down” Robyn rested back on her hands “well you got me all clothed, but I wanted to speak to you about earlier, you know with Rylee. You seemed a little taken aback by it all, I want you to be not scared to go near her. She is in that mood, and she is clingy, but I want you to be there, be close for me also. I need you there” Robyn noticed “uh yeah, I am sorry. I kind of just felt I was getting in the way, you know? I didn’t want to juust be in your space when you’re trying to calm her down” Robyn shook her head never “Robyn, hey. Robyn or Chris. Rylee is awake” looking behind me and then the loudest cry came out.

Rylee is much more her, I am so emotional. She is sitting up with Robyn’ hand behind her of course but she is sitting up, not as emotional this time anyways “this is good news isn’t it? From the results and hearing her chest, she seems to be ok, honestly really happy with this. She is wanting to sit up and see everyone, I mean of course she has been through an ordeal, so we just need to be slow with Rylee and just support her through this, what I want to do is another night. I am tacking everything off her, even the monitors on her foot. Just let’s see how she is with tonight and then tomorrow discharge, what you think to that Rylee?” Myriam said, smiling at Rylee. She is busy touching her foot, she seems happy to see her feet “this is the best news I can hear; I am just over the moon to have my daughter back. To have her like this, alert. So can we give her a bath and everything? Just be normal?” Robyn asked, Myriam nodded her head “normal routine, just so you have the support of us here. Anything changed then we are at hand so just do your normal routine” it’s so crazy how much Rylee looks like Robyn; I had no say in this child at all. She has been hanging with Robyn for too long because she has become her twin, I got problems with this. Rylee looked up from her foot and her eyes laid on me and I felt so nervous, I mean she is a child, but I felt judged because I haven’t been around like that, Rylee blew raspberries at me. I laughed putting my head down, I think my daughter is back “awww my niece, that is my niece” Mel cheered “she is back” Robyn wiped her mouth with her hand.

Robyn yelped out as she picked up Rylee from the bed finally, after not being able to hold her for all this time “oh my god, my baby” Robyn held her close “I missed you so so much, oh my god. Thank you god, thank you” getting up from the chair and making my way over to them both “thank you god, you came back to me” Robyn’ voice broke, she lifted her up so I can see Rylee better “she is back with us” smiling at Rylee placing my hand behind her head, she is wanting to touch Robyn’ face then looking at me, she is making all these noises now too “I love you pookie” pressing a kiss to the side of her head, this has to be the best moment for us. We really could have lost Rylee “you want to go to daddy, go to dad” Robyn pressed kisses to Robyn’ forehead before turning to me, taking Rylee from Robyn “my big girl, you’re so strong” wiping her nose with my thumb “I missed you” Rylee is cheerful, I can tell how happy she is “boogers” walking over to the window, Rylee scrunches her face up and then turned to my shoulder and rested her head on my shoulder “I am going to be there for you forever, I promise” lightly touching the back of her head.

#chrianna fanfiction #chrianna #chriannaff #chrianna ff #fanfic #fanfiction

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hoochieblues · 3 years

Note

Hi! For the DADW, can I prompt you for handers and the affection prompt "smiling at each other from across the room"? Thank you!

Tysm! Such a cute prompt... and behold, baby's first modern AU, albeit in a weak and wimpy way! Somehow this turned into 3.2k of Christmas Satinalia in July. I'm not sure how, but I have given up questioning. Enjoy?

for @dadrunkwriting

Melting at the Edges

m!Handers | M | 3.2k Tooth-rotting domestic fluff with feels. Dental plan not included. Sexual content & mild allusions to past systemic abuse (fuck the Circles)

------------------------------------------

The apartment was a steal. Anders isn’t convinced they didn’t land the lease through some shady means, but he knows better than to ask. Maker knows, he’s done enough questionable shit in his time.

The first week they’re in there, they’ve got next to nothing. Neither of them had much worth bringing, and it felt like it should be a fresh start anyway. It’s bare but it feels strange to look around and have keys and a stove and curtains… even if the curtains are horrendous. They belonged to the last tenant—like the grease-infested microwave with the peeling Denerim Clippers sticker on the side of it—and they’re an awful orange-and-brown floral pattern that reeks of cigarette smoke and onions. They remind Anders too much of the break room at work and he jokes one morning that either they go or he does, so Tobias sighs, gets up off the mattress and pads out into the living room in his boxer briefs, where he proceeds to rip the curtains down with a theatrical flourish.

“You’re not getting away that easy, sunshine,” he says, standing there with a grin on his face and his hands on his hips, and kicks the pile of ugly fabric aside. The patio doors lead onto a little deck, beyond and below which is the parking lot and—closer than anyone’d like—the next building. The lady in 526b can see straight into their apartment, and so can the handful of people scraping their windshields and squirting de-icer into their locks. Anders isn’t really concentrating on it, but he thinks that, when his back is pressed against the cold glass, at least a couple of people are looking up, watching Mr. and Mr. Hawke make out like the revoltingly happy newlyweds they are.

A few days later he’s got time off, so they paint the walls. Tobias is predictably good at jobs like this, and there’s a lot to be said for watching him wield a roller, barefoot and in a worn, emulsion-spattered pair of jeans and a threadbare Massey Ferguson shirt, paint speckling his hair and face. He’s one of those people whose appeal increases exponentially, the grubbier he gets. Funny, really: the night they went to the gala thing at the hospital—the night he proposed, technically, if you can call it that—he was all polished up in a suit, and he looked ridiculous.

He can’t do anything without making a mess, but the finish on the walls is immaculate. Anders does the tedious cutting in around the lightswitches and baseboards, crosslegged on the floor with a tiny brush, feeling a bit useless. There haven’t been many projects they’ve shared. Almost nothing outside of the Foundation, which made him worry it wouldn’t work, or that the wrong things were holding them together. He pulled back a lot, to start with. Made it rougher on everyone, but then when doesn’t he?

The first year he was working every hour the Maker sent, barely able to string two sentences together by the time he got home, often not even making it back to his own place but bunking at Bela and Merrill’s instead. They were closer to the hospital, and it was hard to get a ride as far out as Darktown. Can’t blame the drivers really, it wasn’t a good place. He wasn’t in a lot of good places then, and some days he still isn’t, but it’s better.

They build a bookcase together. It has instructions, but they’re pointless little pictographs of a smug cartoon man who seems like he probably knows what an unhelpful dick he is. There’s a lot of cursing, some bloodshed. Anders takes Tobias’ hand in his, heals the scrape from the screwdriver with a gentle swell of magic. Green eyes crinkle at the corners, hard peridot turning to soft moss, and he feels that fluttering tug in his stomach that he gets every time he’s in love. He used to try to chase it away, to pretend it didn’t exist, but these days that’d be as useless as trying to give up blinking. It’s there almost all the time, and it doesn’t scare him anymore.

They buy a couch and a bed frame. Anders hasn’t had one of those in… probably more than fifteen years. It’s not the reminder of creaky bunk beds that he feared; it’s nice. The couch folds out into a bed—in case of company or arguments, Tobias says, though neither seem very likely—and they break it in both ways over the weekend. That’s nice too. Very much so, actually.

A copy of Varric’s latest book arrives, and gets pride of place on the bookshelf, along with a planter of succulents Merrill sent, and their respective book collections, which are mixed up together now in their own form of literary intimacy. Treatises on magic, healing, thaumaturgical science and medicine, and surgical atlases abut a dog-eared book on woodworking, a book of Fereldan children’s stories with Bethany’s name inscribed inside the cover in round, careful letters, a really old copy of a farming almanac, some trashy novels, and a couple of coffee table books that pretend to be about photography or fashion but are more or less blatant excuses for scantily clad models barely covering their bulges.

It’s only when Anders is up one night, bloody nightmares again, that he flips through Varric’s book and realises it’s about them, though heavily veiled. Tobias is, perhaps libellously, the Antivan prince of thieves; he’s the Nevarran beggar-thief who rises up to lead a rebellion. There’s lot of swashbuckling and everyone’s favourite fantasy tropes, and it’s very pro-mage, but not so on the nose it’ll alienate the readership. There are some pretty spicy chapters too… a couple with disturbingly familiar details. He’s wondering how Varric knew about that night in the viscount’s rose garden when his fingers light on a slip of yellowed paper tucked in the back of the book. It’s covered in a familiar crabbed scrawl—the confluence of medical handwriting and being up for four days, as he recalls—and starts with a paragraph of polemic about oppression.

On the corner of the sheet, in Varric’s broad hand, a note reads, ‘how about I come oppress you two for the holidays? Be nice to get the gang back together.’

Anders smiles, though not without a twist of unease.

Carver comes by in the second week with a pack of beers, a Rivaini takeout order, a prophet’s laurel plant—a gift definitely recommended to him by Merrill; Anders can almost hear her saying ‘even they can’t kill that’—and a palpable sense of awkwardness. It’s a little weird at first, but they drink the beers, eat the fried salt cod cakes and ginger-clove beef and, by the end of the evening, Carver’s calling his brother ‘Toby’ and they’re laughing over shared memories of farm life back home in the south. Anders can get in on that. He was young when he left, but he’s still a Fereldan, he still knows farms. He makes a joke about geese and rage demons, they all laugh, and Tobias drops an arm across his shoulders, pulling him in close.

When Carv leaves—he has to be back on base by ten—he hugs Tobias tight, says he’ll see them both soon, seeing as they share a city now… that Mother would have loved the new place, and would have wanted them to be happy. After the door closes, Tobias folds Anders’ hand into his and sighs. Anders looks at him, raises an eyebrow.

“Toby, huh?”

“Don’t you fucking start,” he says with a grin. “I hate it.”

Anders shrugs. It’s a pet name that starts to sneak into his lexicon all the same, a little bit of the past carried forward and remade into something new. Tobias doesn’t protest. From the way he makes that ‘quit it’ smile, the way his ears go slightly red, Anders thinks he does kind of like it.

Work is beating the Void of him, but it’s worth it. Building something like this is. It wasn’t possible in the Marches, even in Markham, which is a liberal college town, but Ferelden’s new laws are making it easier for people like them. It’s why they came back—something Anders never intended to do, and which has contributed a lot to how tense he’s been recently, not to mention the sodding dreams—but he crossed the sea once before to make good on a promise.

Tobias comes with him when they open the new centre, a week before Satinalia. They’ve been married two months, in the new place for barely one, and absolutely none of it seems real, especially when Anders is standing with a paper cup of box wine in his hand, looking up at the sign that says Karl Thekla Magical Rights and Equity Foundation. No one’s wearing a suit tonight, though a local TV crew has shown up. They drink a lot of the box wine, and the cameraman tells Anders all about his sister, who was taken to a Circle when she was a child. They petitioned and got her out three years ago, thanks to the Resolutionist Bill the Landsmeet passed, but the suit for damages is still meandering through the courts. She’ll never be the same. No one is, Anders thinks, but he tries not to fixate on it.

Tobias comes over with Leorah, the woman who’s heading up the legal team dealing with the Chantry oversight committee, and has things to say about legislature and due process hearings, and some of it bounces off the inside of his skull because he’s exhausted and it’s just all been so much, so fast… but it’s all right. They’ve come this far, and it’s more than mages could ever have hoped for an age ago. If he just could stop feeling like the days are flicking past in a manner beyond his control—too soon, too full, too hard to breathe—he’d be able to fully embrace it, but Anders supposes it’s something he should expect.

Any time he’s been this free before, something’s gone bad or been taken away. It feels like it’s only a matter of time.

Two days later, Tobias is on a video call to Varric, making holiday plans that put a knot of unease in Anders’ stomach. They never celebrated much before. Either it didn’t seem important or they were moving around, or… well, he’s never been a holidays person. They don’t bring back anything good. Toby wants to do it, though; traditions and memories and all that shit seem to be important to him since he came back to this mudbath of a country.

Anders doesn’t begrudge it, he just doesn’t get it. And he has that itchy feeling, like it’s going to be bad. He’s on his phone, messing around with an app that’s supposed to be calming but honestly isn’t. He stares for a while at the message that pops up, wondering why he didn’t expect it sooner.

Hey stranger. Saw you on the news. Good for you! Hope this is the right number. Velanna says hi. S xx

It’s not the last one he gets. Nate, of all people, comes out of the woodwork on social media to congratulate him. He’s not sure how to respond—he asks how Anders is, and he wants to say ‘married’ but it doesn’t feel like a politic thing to say to yet another person on the list of lovers he’s jilted, especially given exactly how he left—and there are other messages too. Oghren leaves a voice message of congratulation and says something about belated amends, and how they should get together for a coffee or something. His kids are so big now, it doesn’t seem possible that they were ever babies.

Anders puts off responding. He’s gotten good at isolation over the years. He can’t avoid everything, though.

He’s in the kitchen when Tobias comes home with the Satinalia decorations. All bought fresh from the market, great wax-dipped boughs of greenery and red berries—the whole apartment is going to smell like pine needles and there’s going to be sap on the carpet, he just knows it—with little moon-shaped lanterns and strings of salt dough stars painted in bright colours.

“How’s it going?” he asks, dumping the bags on the counter and sliding his arms around Anders’ waist. He kisses his cheek, nuzzles his neck and breathes in deeply. “Mm… you smell like cinnamon and cookies. I don’t know whether it’s hot or adorable.”

“They’re only box mixes. I’m not exactly an Orlesian chef de cuisine, love. When does the horde start arriving again?”

“Couple of hours yet,” Tobias says, pressing a little closer with a touch of grinding and lot of optimism. “We’ve got so much time.”

Anders smiles and reaches over to turn off the oven. It’s a good call because, a little over twenty-five minutes later, he’s leaning back with his elbows on the counter, and he can barely stop his legs from turning to water, let alone remember how long the cookies were meant to be in for. Tobias gags, moans, and pulls back one last time, his eyes watering and his mouth delectably wet and sticky. He kisses Anders’ cock, rubs his stubbled cheek along his thigh, and presses another kiss there before surging up to his feet to pull him close. He likes Anders to kiss him after, and Anders likes tasting himself on another mage’s tongue. There’s a combination of salt and soapiness, barley and electricity in Tobias’ mouth, and he rubs his thumb over those pretty, talented lips as they part.

“Don’t brush your teeth before company comes?” he suggests.

Green eyes flare with a happy sparkle. “You’re so bad.”

Well, Toby always has been the more vanilla one of them. Anders drags him to the bedroom and, when their still-new bed frame is creaking with a familiar, grounding rhythm, he knots his fingers in his husband’s red-brown hair and tries to believe that holidays are a happy time.

In the Circle, annums were celebrated in a cursory way. There were chantry services, and lectures, and maybe a meal in the great hall, but mostly they were reminders of what you didn’t have, and everyone was miserable. The little kids—the ones who still remembered their parents, and thought they might be allowed to go home if they behaved well enough—used to cry themselves sick, and the older ones just got morose.

One year, the Knight-Commander had the local news come in. They took pictures of him handing out gifts to the littlest and most photogenic apprentices, or so Karl had said. Anders didn’t see it; he was doing three weeks’ solitary in the Pit for some infraction or other. He doesn’t remember which one.

When they get dressed after, Tobias slips on the ugliest sweater Anders has ever seen—it has big puffy crocheted snowballs on it, with sequins on, and somehow he isn’t surprised—and grins at him.

“No,” Anders says, reaching for a nice, normal T-shirt. “No, absolutely not.”

Less than an hour later, when the first knock at the door sounds, he’s wearing a sweater in a complex Dunholm knit pattern, in garish reds, greens, and yellows. Each stripe of it features a different design. There are snowmen, and snowflakes, and little reindeer gambolling about and jumping over each other, and brightly wrapped presents with ribbons, all carefully knit into the fabric. On close inspection, you can see that some of the reindeer aren’t exactly leaping over each other, but at least they’re probably having a very merry holiday.

“Holy shit, Blondie!” Varric says, breezing in at the centre of a familiar cyclone of chaos.

Anders doesn’t answer, he’s busy disappearing somewhere underneath Isabela and Merrill, both dressed like they’ve just got off the plane from Rivain—probably because they have—and didn’t plan on a Fereldan winter. His arms are full and there are tits in his face, so he isn’t going to complain too loud, but he still shoots a glare at Tobias in between the effusive greetings being yelled in his ear.

Fenris slopes behind the girls, with the air of someone used to making apologies for them wherever they go. He makes a show of barely tolerating the hugs, and presents Tobias with a couple of bottles of some unpronounceable Tevene liqueur that, Isabela confidently promises, will ‘put hair on your cock… or anything else.’

Carver arrives a little while after that, to equally excited greetings, and it’s later than they intended when everyone sits down to eat, but that’s all right. They’d hardly planned a banquet. Everything’s out of boxes or from frozen, except for a cheese and potato soup Tobias had a go at replicating, which was his mother’s speciality. Carver pulls a face and says it tastes like he used bronto cheese, so Tobias pelts a bread roll at his head, and a serious debate breaks out when Merrill asks Varric if brontos even produce cheese, and whether this is an Orzammar thing.

“How the fuck would I know?” Varric shrugs. “Topsider and proud of it, Daisy.”

“You must have some idea….”

“How would they even milk them?” Carver ponders, swishing the liqueur around his glass.

“Pretty bloody carefully,” Isabela suggests, one arm slung over the back of her chair. “Or while they’re asleep?”

Anders slips out of his seat and goes to retrieve dessert, which is some kind of elaborate ice cream thing Toby had on order from the grocery store and says is traditional. It’s shaped like a tree trunk and pumped full of more chocolate and cream and cherries than any fancy Orlesian patisserie. You’re supposed to decorate it with powdered sugar, candles, and sprigs of greenery, which he diligently does while not thinking about the chocolate ice cream they used to serve in the refectory when he was a kid, which tasted like fake chocolate powder and artificial sweetener.

He’s racked his brain, but he can’t remember having a meal like this at home, before the Circle. He doesn’t really remember holidays much from when he was tiny. Chantry services, candles… vague impressions of his mother that he’s spent so long suppressing he can’t even trust are true anyway.

He realises he’s been standing there for too long, sugar dredger in one hand, when he notices the edges of the ice cream tree log thing starting to melt, so he lights the little candles with a wave of his hand and carries it in to the table.

The conversation is still intense, though it’s moved from bronto milk to the ethics of competitive nug racing, and no one looks up when he comes in… except Tobias. He lifts his head and looks at Anders across the room—their room in their place—and he’s wearing that stupid sweater and his cheeks are flushed with laughter and drink, and he smiles. It’s not his usual big, broad, crooked grin, but a small, quiet smile… the way he looks most days when he’s just woken up, when he’s bleary-eyed and can’t remember how many arms and legs he has, but knows just who he wants to kiss good morning. It’s a soft, patient ‘thank you’ smile, and it burns away every hardship and annoyance they’ve had in the last eight years.

Anders feels himself melt at the edges like the ice cream, and that fluttering tug in his belly feels as if it could pull so hard he’d break in two, but he doesn’t. Nothing bad happens.

After everything, he’s safe, and free… and home.

#da fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #dadwc #handers fic #i out-fluffed myself finally #da2 #modern au #kinda i guess #idk i might do something with this

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years

Text

They Want Us To Burn || Alec Volturi ||

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, mild horror, mentions of blood and death.

Words: 6263

Summary: So this turned out to be a little longer than expected but I found once I started writing I couldn’t stop so...

From Alec’s point of view, this is what happened the day the Witch Twins burned.

He took a deep breath, pressed a palm into the soft dirt beneath his knees, closed his eyes, and thrust his head under the surface of the water. The springtime meant warmer weather, but the rivers were still filled with water left over from the winter snow melt. The perfect place to bathe after a frankly awful day. He’d tended to the allotment in the early morning, his back to the sun as it rose since he had no time to admire the beauty of spring if he wanted to plant enough crop to harvest over the summer and autumn months. The late morning to early afternoon gave him time to hunt and check the snares he’d set in the woodland surrounding their home, and after a quick lunch that Mother had prepared, he was off to the fields to earn a pittance for his labour that would help pay the taxes due to the maddeningly fat bastard of a Lord who owned the land their small village was settled on.

The fields were not a nice place to be for Alec, but he’d been turned away from every other job he’d tried to get to earn some coin. He wanted to provide for his family the way he saw other men doing, and as the only man in his household it was his duty to do so, but he could only earn so much if he acquired no skill. His father was not someone Mother spoke about often but he knew he was a foreign born soldier. Whether he was dead or alive, Alec couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t want to be anything like a man who had abandoned his family without a second thought, but he could admit that perhaps their lives would be far easier if the man had stayed and taught him some sort of craft. The butcher’s son was already working at their store as was the cobbler’s boy, and the blacksmith’s son? Well, he was being apprenticed to a man in London of all places, sure to make quite a fortune.

His free hand ruffled and ran through his hair, once, twice, three times over, and then he resurfaced with a quiet gasp. Alec liked to swim when he could. There was a lake deep in the forest, perhaps more of a pond, but it was crystal clear and large enough for him to get a few laps in. He’d learnt by accident. One of the few friends he’d had before they had been driven away had pushed him into the river while they playful fought one day, and jumped in to save him when he realised he couldn’t swim. Underneath the water everything was silent. There was nothing and everything all at once, and obscured kingdom of quiet he liked to visit when the real world got to loud. Most of the time now he was too busy working to provide for his Mother and sister to visit his pond anymore.

Wiping his wet hand over his face and across the back of his neck, Alec blinked the water from his eyes and refocused his eyes on the surrounding greenery, letting sound drift back to him as birds twittered and sung their sweet songs in his ear. Fledglings would be preparing to fly the nest soon enough and Jane would want him to come with her through the forest to help any who had fallen back into their nests again he was sure.

Alec shivered, feeling the water dribble down his spine as he ran his hand over his torso, under his pits. He was awfully sticky after working in the sun all day to till the land, ready to plant the potato crop that would sell at market and go to the Lord’s household. He had never seen the nobles house up close, but he’d heard the rumours from servants who came to market to restock the kitchens. The place was supposed to have high ceilings, long tables feasts that could feed the entire village could be held at and multiple rooms.

Once he deemed himself clean enough, he sat back in the grass, resting his forearms on his knees and letting the sun dry the water droplets still clinging to his hair and skin, the damp strands now sticking down around his face. His hair had grown considerably and was just starting to creep past his shoulders now. He’d have to cut it again soon to keep it out of his eyes when he was working. The pay wasn’t great and nor was the company, but it provided enough for him to pay taxes mixed in with the income from the milk and cheese they sold from the goats.

The men he worked with varied in age, but Alec was by far one of the youngest. He was in his fourteenth summer now and notably smaller than those he worked with, yet still they gave him a wide berth as though he were the biggest and roughest of the lot. Jane was treated the same when she went to market to sell the cheese she worked so hard to make. Nobody dared come near the witch twins. The very name repulsed him, made bile rise in the back of his throat and his face scrunch in disgust, but there was no way they could rid themselves of the moniker now. Alec grabbed a fistful of grass, tearing it from the dirt and scrunching it in his hand with a huff.

There’d been more name calling today, more taunts and jabs from the villagers trying to get a rise out of him. He wasn’t Jane. His sister rose to the bait almost every time, years of torment turning her bitter and hot-headed when they were forced to go into the village square now. Jane enjoyed snapping back, her words equally as barbed and making some of the toughest men recoil in shock at how wicked her words could be.

Alec didn’t like to give them the time of day, but that didn’t mean their words simply bounced off of him. Sometimes, like today, when he was already hot and bothered and just wanted to feed his family, their words lingered longer they should.

Not using your devil powers little witch boy?

Maybe he can’t without that freak of a sister near him. Ha! Imagine! All that power and he’s impotent unless there’s a little girl telling him what to do!

Better not rile the witch up, he’ll make your crop fail you know.

How do we know you aren’t tampering with this harvest devil spawn?

He tossed the scrunched up grass into the river, watching the babbling stream carry it away from him. Sometimes he wished he could do that. He wished he could just drift downstream and find someplace new, someplace nobody knew him or his reputation so he could start a fresh. Alec couldn’t honestly say he fully blamed the villagers for being suspicious of him or Jane (things did have a tendency to happen around them after all) but they never meant any harm. In fact, if anything bad happened it was because bad things had been done to them first and foremost. Still, it did scare him just how bold the villagers were becoming, and how out of control it all seemed to be. Just the other day the farmers youngest, no older than six, had hurled insult after insult at him, and Alec really had no idea how it had happened but he was certain it was an accident when the boy had turned and trod on that hoe. He hadn’t physically put it there, but…well it definitely hadn’t been there before either.

It had always been chalked up to coincidence by Mother – it was her favourite word nowadays. When the boys who had cornered Jane at market had complained they couldn’t breathe Mother had reminded them the day was hot, and the air thick. When the girl who had given Alec hope that perhaps he might have won her favour humiliated him in front of her friends, Mother had said it was a coincidence that she awoke the next day with horrendous boils on her face, sore and bursting and leaving ugly scars behind. Alec could safely say he never decided to do any of those things, but he had felt…different, when they happened. He could remember being angry, being scared, and feeling his fingertips tingle, his mind strangely warm, and then it was all over and something good had happened to those who had been good to him, while misfortune followed all those who had done him or his family wrong.

“Alec! Alec!” Jane’s voice was frantic, breaking him from his thoughts so suddenly it was jarring. He blinked owlishly, head swivelling to the right as he tried to gather his bearings. Jane was running towards him, the beautiful braid Mother had spent so long doing for her this morning now flying everywhere and her dress was tattered, stained with mud. The closer she got, the more he realised her head was soaking wet, her lip split and chin stained pink, like she’d had to wash blood off of her face. He shot to his feet, grabbing at his shirt and throwing it on haphazardly.

“Jane what happened to you!” he demanded, shock and anger fighting a violent war inside of him. His wide eyes took in every battered inch of his sister, his fingers curling into her upper arms as he hauled her into him. Jane never cried, so why were her eyes so wet? She shook, holding tightly to him as he tenderly stroked her hair. It was soaking, sopping wet compared to the rest of her. Her dress was hanging off of one shoulder now. Clearly whatever had happened had been violent, and the thought anyone might have harmed his sister drove him to near madness.

“Th-th village b-boys, they tried to – they were – they tried to-“ she stuttered, gulping for air and unable to get the words out. Alec tried to be patient, cupping her face in his hands and pressing fleeting kisses to her cheeks and forehead.

“Shhh sister, hush now, you’re safe.” He promised, brushing some wet strands of hair from her face. Jane sniffled, closing her eyes as she took some deep breaths, her slender fingers wrapped around his wrists. Given the way she’d run to him he didn’t think she was too badly hurt. There were no bruises on her skin he could see, just her split lip that looked to be quite sore.

“They tried to make me confess to witchcraft.” Jane whispered, sky blue eyes peering up at him and swimming with anxiety. She smelt something awful, like urine and barn animals.

“Make you confess?” Alec repeated, his tone growing darker as his eyes narrowed. Jane nodded, sniffling again and swiping her hands nervously down her dress. Jane was unflappable. She had a comeback for every occasion, a tongue sharper than any sword and a temper that was all consuming and violent as fire. It didn’t suit her to seem so afraid and meek before him now.

“The son of Godwin cornered me at market with his friends, and they dragged me to that boy Edgar’s house, you know the place that owns all the sheep? They kept – kept dunking my head under water in the sheep’s trough.” She told him, her voice starting to shake as her eyes went big, “I swear to you Alec I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know how the Smith’s boy began to choke.” Jane began to cry again, looking alarmed and pale as she fell into his chest. Alec wrapped her tightly in his arms, somewhat frozen in shock himself. It wasn’t the first time those around Jane had suddenly found it difficult to breathe, but someone choking was far more sinister. He doubted it would be forgiven or explained away as easily as their other coincidences had been.

“Jane we must go.” Alec said firmly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and marching with her back through the grass towards the dirt path that led to home. His mind raced, his concern growing as Jane didn’t bother to argue with him as she usually would. He took a sharp inhale as his sister stumbled beside him, falling to her knees and trembling head to foot.

“I killed him Alec. I think I killed Harold the Smith.” She whimpered, eyes shining with tears. He stilled, a shiver running down his spine. Dead? She had killed the blacksmith’s boy? He was due to go to London! He was his family’s pride and joy! This would not be taken lightly.

“Sister…how did you escape?” Alec asked quietly. Had the other boys just let her go once they had seen what she’d done to her friend? How many had witnessed the Smith boy’s demise? Was it gruesome? Alec found a morbid fascination with that last question, part of him hoping it was for all the torment they’d endured at his hands but knowing that the very desire to so much as hit him was a sin in itself. To wish a gruesome death upon someone…maybe he was the devil’s boy after all?

“They all just fell.” Jane whispered back, staring up at him from the floor.

“Fell?” he questioned. She nodded slowly, wiping furiously at her eyes before shooting to her feet. Suddenly, Jane was tugging him by the hand, the skirt of her dress kicking up clouds of dirt as he hurried to fall into step beside her. “Jane what do you mean they fell?” he repeated his question, voice slightly more panicked now.

“I don’t know brother! They began to bleed and then they fell! I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean to do it, you have to believe me!” she insisted. Alec nodded placatingly.

“Of course I believe you sister, but what you’ve done is…the village will not forget this.” He fretted, mind quickly turning to Mother. She would be waiting for them to return home, perhaps cooking supper as they hurried along. They had to get home fast, pack what meagre belongings they owned and flee. If Jane had truly killed the boy…the penalty for murder was death by hanging. Depending on the state that she had left the other boys in after her “trial” they might just torture her all over again before giving her the rope.

“Brother do you…hear that?” she asked, stopping suddenly. Alec paused, straining his ears until he caught it. It was a cacophony of loud, clambering voices, muffled by distance but slowly growing clearer. It was like listening to the raucous shouts of the villagers when they gathered to celebrate the Shrove Tuesday feast, but as the words of their chant became discernible Alec felt his blood run cold.

“Burn the witches!”

“Alec…”

“Run.” He whispered, staring with wide eyes at his sister. Jane’s jaw clenched shut, her eyes shining with tears. “Run Jane! Run now!” he bellowed, tugging on her hand to force her to keep pace with him.

Find Mother and get into the forest.

He repeated the instruction to himself like a mantra. Protecting his family was all that mattered now. Their fate was certain, their place in the village now painfully clear. They were nothing more than scapegoats for all the rotten luck that befell others. Jane panted beside him as he focused his eyes on their house, forcing his legs to move faster. He didn’t dare look back, barreling in through the door and shocking Mother so badly she screamed, dropping the ladle into the pot she was busy cooking supper in.

“Alec what on earth-“

“Mother we must leave, the villagers have come for us!” he snapped, pivoting on his heel to reach for his bow. He wasn’t the best shot, but he would have to make do. His family needed him to rise to the occasion, to be the man of the house, to protect them.

“But Alec why would they-“

“Mother there is not time! We must flee to the forest now! We can survive out there, I know we can, please!” he implored. Mother was too shocked to move for a long moment until she heard the shouting, Jane’s shrill cry to warn them of their impending visitors startling her into grabbing the skirt of her dress and hurrying towards the door.

“Hurry, hurry! Jane, come quickly!” she held out an arm and Jane immediately took her hand, Mother ushering her on ahead of them as Alec darted out of the door, nocking an arrow as he went and drawing back the bowstring. He let the arrow fly towards the crowd, a few angry shouts and screams as it landed near their feet ripping through the air. Alec could see the shining ends of pitchforks, the sharp curves of axes, the butcher holding his butchers knife up so the metal glinted dangerously in the sunlight. How could such a cloudless, bright day herald such a terrible fate for them?

Turning swiftly, he pelted towards the treeline, seeing his mother and Jane close to reaching the first few trees up ahead. His hand gripped his bow tight, heart racing as the blood in his body began to roar in his ears. Was this really it? What if they couldn’t get away? No, no he couldn’t think like that. He brushed quickly past his family, holding back the branches in their way and letting them fall back into place beside them. He moved much faster over the familiar hunting terrain, dismayed by just how slow his sister and Mother seemed to move. Tree roots tried to trip them, the patchy canopy sending beams of light to guide their way and leaving the forest unbearably humid. It hadn’t always been this warm had it? He could feel himself sweating again.

“Dammit!” Jane cried in frustration, yanking the skirt of her dress off of the sharp twig it had been snagged on, ripping the material. Mother crashed to the ground, hissing at the sting the impact left on her skin. Jane helped her back up as Alec reached back for another arrow. The villagers sounded close again, closer than he wanted them to be.

“We have to move faster, there’s a blind not far from here where we can hide till they pass.” He said, voice quiet but strained. Jane nodded determinedly, but Mother merely pushed her forward.

“Go there then.” She said, her eyes watering. Alec felt his own eyes widen. His chest refusing to take in air for a moment.

“No.” he whispered as Jane hurried to his side, gripping his arm tightly.

“I am only slowing you down.” Mother insisted, her hands bunching her dress into fists. She approached quickly, jerking like a puppet whose strings had been pulled tight. He couldn’t respond to her hug, her body warm against his and heart beating all too hard against his chest, body frozen. She cupped his cheeks and kissed the top of his head, a shaky smile crossing her lips before she repeated the motion to Jane.

“Mother no.” Jane begged, “Please come with us please!”

“We can make it Mother.” Alec said determinedly. He wouldn’t leave her behind. A real man would save all of his family, wouldn’t they? How could he leave the woman who had given him life? The woman who Jane looked so much like, with her golden hair and soft features. He shared her blue eyes. He still whispered her stories to Jane on nights nightmares kept her awake. He needed her still. He needed her always. Mother twisted her head sharply, the villagers sounding far too close as branches snapped under foot and animals scattered into the depths of the woods to avoid their wrath.

“No, we cannot, but you can. Go now my loves, look after one another. I love you always.” Her words broke on a soft sob and before either of them could react she darted back and to the right, moving diagonally away from them and beginning to bundle rocks in her arm. Jane tugged at his hand, but Alec could only watch as Mother, her blue eyes frantic when she realised they still hadn’t moved and she screamed for them to go once more. Her arm reared back, and a stone pelted the first villager through the break in the trees square in the chest. Coughing and spluttering, the cobbler clutched his chest and doubled over, heaving for air. Alec nocked his arrow and drew back the string, letting it loose without a second thought as his lips twisted into a snarl.

He didn’t recognise the man who went down, the arrow embedded into his shoulder. A swarm of people were advancing now as Jane shrieked at him to move, but Alec barely heard her. He could feel it again, that warmth in his mind, the way his fingertips tingled. His arm wheeled back and forth, nocking arrows and letting them fly. He wasn’t even aware of the obscenities he was screaming now at the villagers who were lunging for them, his ears buzzing as the adrenaline pounded through him at an alarming rate. His eyes were laser focused; tunnel vision pinpointed on Mother as she was shoved to the ground, landing hard on her elbows before she was pushed onto her back. The world seemed to move in slow motion after that, his throat feeling raw as he screamed and screamed, feeling the wind pick up around him as the stones Mother had once held as her only defence now rained down on her prone body.

Jane went down next having propelled herself forward to try and save Mother. She was tackled and pinned by the arms by two burly men that in the back of his mind, Alec recognised as some of the farm hands he worked with. He reached his arm back, furious now as they struck his twin across the face so hard the wound on her lip reopened, spilling bright red blood and making her eyes flutter. He grasped thin air, his blood running cold as he realised he was out of arrows. They were sticking out of various limbs, but it wasn’t enough to stop the mob coming for him, and he swung his bow up and around in a wide arc to catch the first attacker in the face. He was barely seeing faces anymore, each villager a blur as they rushed him. He was forced to the ground on his front, face smashed into the dirt once, twice. There was a sharp sting that ran through his nose, followed by a deep, fiery throb, something hot and wet running down into his mouth and making him choke and splutter.

“Jane!” he croaked her name desperately, vision blurring at the edges and staring to fade rapidly as an explosion of pain ricocheted through his ribs, his legs. He had failed. He hadn’t saved anyone. Mother was dead, Jane was…alive? Slung across the shoulder of the man before him, her hands bound and body limp, his sister’s chest rose and fell as she was carried like a sack of potatoes away from him. Alec couldn’t find his feet, feeling them drag over the sticks and stones littering the forest floor, his shoes sliding through something slick and wet. His blurry eyes could barely make out the discoloured, red splotch that was all that was left of Mother as he was dragged past her, two hands gripping his biceps too tightly and cutting off the blood flow in his arms as he was hauled along. Knowing he had failed made it a lot easier to accept the darkness creeping in on him.

He could almost pretend everything was normal when his eyes opened again. Jane was shouting profanities and curses at the top of her lungs, iron rattling as she shook her shackles and slammed the chain into the bars holding her in a cell. Every part of his body hurt. From head to toe Alec felt a deep-rooted ache, his very bones throbbing in protest of his every breath. The skin around his mouth felt tight, dried, congealed blood covering his skin. He closed his eyes with a wince as the image of his bloodied and beaten mother came to mind. She wasn’t Mother, not like that. She’d looked like one of those slabs of meat strung up outside of the butchers, battered and red with blood. He’d failed. Mother would never again sing as she cooked, which he had always claimed annoyed him but never confessed that they were songs he hummed to himself to pass time in the fields. She’d never patch up his clothes again, citing her favourite sewing rules to an unimpressed Jane, who simply didn’t have the patience for activities such as sewing. Never again would she sit with him when he couldn’t sleep, stroking his hair and reminding him of just how wrong they were, that her twins were her most precious gift and could never be a curse.

Alec felt the grief so acutely it stung in his chest like an open wound, a sharp, red hot knife plunged into his chest again and again and again. Jane’s shrill screaming was ringing in his ears, rattling around his brain, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than lie there, in too much pain to move. Internally though, he egged her on.

Curse them all, sister. Summon whatever power the devil has bestowed us with and bring nothing but chaos to this wretched place.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed sprawled on the floor, but the stone was uncomfortable and began to turn his limbs numb. Alec found himself grateful for it, the pins and needles making his pain worse only briefly before his sprawled figure was simply numb to every physical sensation, and it was marvellous. A quiet sigh of relief escaped him and he closed his eyes, willing his mind to do the same as his body, to shut down and let everything go. He could hear the hustle and bustle outside, an animated kind of buzzing. A strange kind of anticipation filled the air and he knew what it was for, though he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. Everyone knew what happened to witches, and he had maimed many villagers with his arrows to only add fuel to the fire. Their ending would not be pleasant, their parting from this world all too soon and all too painful. He prayed the numbness in his body would last.

“Alec?” Jane’s voice was hoarse, her screaming having worn down her throat. He stared at the stone ahead of him, heart aching in his chest as his eyes burned with tears. She sounded so afraid, so uncertain and saddened. The cells stank of human waste, of old blood, the straw on the floor long since mangled and discoloured by various stains he didn’t want to think about. He managed to take block out the foul smell so it no longer made him nauseous at least. It wasn’t until Jane called his name again that he found the will to respond.

“Forgive me sister.” He murmured.

“Alec.”

“I have failed you. I failed Mother. I cannot save you.” His voice was oddly thick, the air unable to escape his crooked nose and making some syllables come out a little garbled, but Jane understood him nonetheless. She always had. Without a word, she curled herself onto her side and reached her hand through the bars of her cell, stretching her hand as far as it would go across the floor towards him. Alec swallowed, shakily reaching for her. There was no pain, his body far too numb to it now, he couldn’t even feel her skin against his, but he held fast and tight to her hand like it was a lifeline, his only anchor in a world that suddenly didn’t make sense anymore. Why them? Why did they have to suffer? Why couldn’t people have just been nice to them? They remained silent, the dark aura that emanated from Jane only growing worse as time wore on and the sun began to dip in the sky. It was like watching a storm cloud grow more violent, lightning crackling around and waiting to strike.

Alec on the other hand finally got his wish. Everything stopped. The grief that was held heavy in his heart disappeared, but so did everything else. They were building his pyre, time was marching towards his death but…it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He had been a good son, a good brother, given time he might have even been a good man, but fate had decided for him and who was he to argue with such powerful forces? When the door slammed open Jane’s grip on his hand tightened, but Alec could only stare blankly at the alderman pointing a gnarled finger at the pair of them. The farm hands he worked among came striding for his cell.

“Get up witch boy, meet your reckoning.” He knew Alfred well, had thought they were perhaps friends. Huh, what an odd situation, to be put to death by a boy you had worked with. He didn’t move, merely stared unblinkingly back at them until they forcibly dragged him to his feet. No pain, nothing. His brain had shut it off by now, and everything else had shut off to as he stumbled out between them, Jane thrashing and snapping at her own escorts behind him. He squinted against the bright light of the torches held aloft by so many of those who had shunned them. He did not feel fear or dread, when he saw the stake driven into the ground, a platform of wood surrounded by logs and branches from the very forest they’d tried to escape into. Perhaps the rope was rough, perhaps it wasn’t. He tested its strength, tugging lightly so the rope was forced to strain a bit against the wooden pole forcing him to stand straight. It didn’t give an inch.

Jane was forced to submit, Alec watching as they drove a fist into his sister’s gut to incapacitate her long enough to tie her down. She struggled viciously, her eyes murderous and flashing over each and every villager before them with her teeth bared. Alec traced the bruised and bloodied visage of his sister one last time, committing the image to memory before turning to face the crowd. Whole families had gathered, some looking excited while others looked morbidly fascinated, like they wanted to be somewhere else but couldn’t bring themselves to ignore the spectacle.

“Alec, Alec look at me.” Jane snapped. He turned his head, dead eyes finding hers for the last time. He had failed her.

“I love you, Jane.” He said, and even though his voice was devoid of emotion he knew she understood just how much weight the words carried.

“There is nothing to forgive Alec, I love you to.” She promised.

“The witch twins have plagued us for long enough! Sickness has befallen our children, our crops have failed, diseases have riddled our livestock, and now they have taken the lives of five young men!” the alderman cried. So Jane had taken down five of those boys had she? Good. The crowd was screaming, the families of the boys shouting curses and thrusting their torches high. Alec knew he should be afraid, but what he could now to stop this? Perhaps the afterlife would be kinder to them? Surely God would know they had never intentionally caused harm to another living being?

“Burn the witches!”

“Purge this village of the devil children once and for all!”

The alderman nodded placatingly, his hand rising and falling in a calming motion to settle the eager crowd. Beady green eyes met Alec’s very briefly, and Alec stared back, unblinking, unflinching.

“For their crimes against our village, the crime of witchcraft, we sentence these two devils to burn at the stake! May God free their souls from the wretched evil that consumes them!” he spat, tossing his torch down onto the branches at Jane’s feet. She let out a blood curdling scream and Alec felt the first flicker of something ignite in him as more torches followed. It rained fire for a few short seconds, and then the acrid smell of smoke was filling his nose, choking his lungs. There it was, fear, anger, despair, disgust. It roiled in his gut like an angry serpent.

“You’ll all burn in hell! Each and every one of you will burn in hell for this!” Jane screeched, struggling viciously as the flames began to lick upwards. The dry kindling caught quickly, bringing his death closer and closer as Alec began to squirm, gritting his teeth. It was growing uncomfortably warm, his eyes burning and lungs spasming as he tried to breathe around the thick, foul smelling smoke invading his airways. He coughed, eyes narrowing on the flames nearing his feet. Jane’s screaming changed in pitch and tone, the anger and malice her voice had once conveyed replaced instead by agony and terror. His head snapped to the right, seeing the leather of her shoes melting into the wood as the flames reddened and charred her ankles, bright orange fire steadily crawling up her dress. His eyes watered, his own feet now hot, burning hotter and hotter as the flames grew higher. They licked at his skin like a thousand angry bee stings. Alec could feel his flesh bubbling and melting slowly as the fire penetrated layer after layer of skin until his very bones felt like they were starting to curdle in the heat.

He couldn’t contain his voice anymore, a strangled scream escaping his lips as he tossed his head back against the wood, trying to move his feet away from the flames encroaching on his skin. He had never felt pain like it and he silently begged for it to end, for something to douse the flames and cool him down. He felt sick, his mind growing fuzzy from lack of air, though he was painfully and shamefully aware of the way his bladder voided once the fire reached his thighs. The torment seemed eternal, stretching on and on as his flesh peeled away, his fuddled mind conjuring images of Mother peeling potatoes to go into their dinner, teaching him to do the same. He would do anything for her to wake him now from this nightmare. The flames leapt suddenly with a gust of wind, pushing through his shirt and onto his chest, but he couldn’t even scream anymore, not enough air in his lungs. His body sagged against the wooden pole, his brain struggling to process the sensations anymore as he finally, mercifully, went numb to it all once more. Vaguely he understood that this was the end, that he was close to passing from this world to the next.

Black shapes flitted in and out of his vision, dancing across his eyes. His ears were ringing with the screams of the villagers, and a deranged, choked laugh escaped his battered lips. Demons, it had to be demons. Maybe they were the devil’s children after all and he had sent a welcome committee to escort them all to hell? He prayed for it in that moment, as muddled as his thoughts were he thought of the demons and how their claws might rip into those who had done this to them, thanked his father for the blissful numbness that had overcome him now and stopped him feeling pain. The demons hovered over him now, pale as the moon and shrouded in darkness, vividly red eyes beaming down at him. His eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the inevitable. He had expected it to perhaps be quick, a slash of the creature’s claws through his throat maybe. It certainly started in his throat, liquid fire pouring into him and forcing his blurry eyes back open in shock. He couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, but his eyes wheeled desperately to find someone, anyone who could stop this.

The fire built and built, and then it overflowed, pouring through his veins and spilling down into his chest, encasing his heart and flooding down to the tips of his toes until his whole body was encased in a burning more vicious than anything he’d endured up until that point. His voice was too broken to make a sound, but his mind suddenly seemed to fire up, working faster and more efficiently than ever before to try and process the agony he was in. As his vision faded again, he felt his body tremble. He was trapped inside of his mind, unable to open his eyes anymore and encased in a shell of burning flesh, being torn apart and remade from the inside. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Was this hell? Was this what the rest of eternity would be like? Where was Jane? Had death been kinder to her? He hoped it had. Whoever had done this to him, whatever awaited him at the end of this ordeal, he used his last coherent thought to make a solemn vow.

The world is going to pay for what it did to us sister, and our enemies will know no mercy from my wrath.

#alec volturi #alec volturi fanfiction #volutri imagines #jane volturi #witch twins #twilight imagines #aro is in here if you squint at the very end #alec volturi imagine #twilight #the volturi #jane volturi imagines

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callmemythicalminx · 4 years

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The Last Of Us 2: We Need To Talk About It

*Spoilers ~ ye have been warned!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve held this off for as long as I could, but I’ve given up resisting- we need to talk about The Last of Us 2. It’s an incredible masterpiece, there’s no doubt about it. The graphics are beautiful and incredibly realistic, and the gameplay has made bounding leaps in progress since the first game, offering a more exciting and intense experience for the player. The actors have of course done incredible jobs and the sound design is amazing. Altogether, a pretty amazing game… Except for one thing- the story.

The first game was widely loved for many reasons, but most prominently, and I’m sure many will agree with me on this, the story and the characters are what made it stand out and still hold up to this day. Joel and Ellie are amazing characters, incredibly complicated and realistic. The former was a man we as players grew to love, after seeing the horrible pain he had to go through and the hardships he faced. We saw him do unspeakable things, hurting and killing many, all in the name of survival. But still, we cared for him, because we saw him grow to love too, risking all to keep his new daughter safe. Ellie was a young kid, forced to grow up too soon in a world that didn’t really care about her. Faced with the fact that she was the possible saviour of humanity, she had the weight of a brighter future on her shoulders. In each other, these two characters found someone to care about again. Joel saw the daughter he lost and couldn’t protect. Ellie saw a father who wouldn’t leave and would help keep her safe.

After seeing the bittersweet ending of the first game, we waited for 7 long years to see Ellie and Joel return to our screens once more. Trailers promised new adventures with the pair, as well as the much-anticipated impact of Joel’s actions after taking Ellie from the Fireflies and stopping the creation of a possible cure. Even when leaks about the story were released, the majority of fans held strong to the belief that Naughty Dog would lead us well and would give us a great sequel to finish off an incredible generation of progress, leading us into a new age of video game storytelling.

Oh, how wrong we were…

Make no mistake here- I know Joel isn’t a hero. What he did at the end of the first game was incredibly selfish. I’ve always seen him as an anti-hero because of his sometimes cruel and violent actions and that can’t be forgotten. Undeniably though, he is still such a beloved character, who we can’t help but connect too because he’s human and vastly complicated. He was also living in a world where people are doing much worse things to survive. Darker, more evil actions that weren’t close to anything Joel ever did. Can he really be blamed for some of his actions, when seeing what other surivors had done? When I first played The Last of Us, I couldn’t help but sympathise with him, especially as I saw him slowly become more caring again after meeting Ellie. He’s incredibly interesting too in terms of characterisation because he’s neither good nor evil- he’s just human, trying to survive in a nightmare world.

Obviously, playing as Joel made a world of difference as to how we perceived him and whether or not he was a hero or villain. If we’d been playing as a completely different character, perhaps a Firefly, we would have most definitely seen him in a different light. This is where Abby comes in. I’ll give Naughty Dog credit here, it is a really interesting concept to introduce a playable character who’s seen the other side of our famous duo’s actions. It’s a great way to make us think even more about the consequences and the effect we have on our environment. As the daughter of the lead surgeon meant to operate on Ellie, Abby has seen the negative effects of Joel’s actions first hand. This opens up a widely explorable concept for the player to experience, offering a new complicated character who has seen her own pain and hardships just like Joel and Ellie did. She’s sure to be liked… Right?

Unfortunately, no.

In the span of two weeks, Abby has become one of the most hated gaming characters of all time. The reason why- bad storytelling.

I understand what the game was trying to do, I really do. I see what the story was trying to tell and portray, but the writing and pacing ruined this before the game had barely even started. I know I can speak for most when I say that I was expecting Joel to die, either it be naturally or inflicted by someone (or something) else. Naughty Dog know how to tug players’ heartstrings, as we saw at the start of the first game when Sarah was killed. It was bound to happen, though I didn’t really want it to. Joel deserves a worthy death, one befitting of his character which would complete his arc and bring a conclusion to his story. What we got instead was single-handedly one of the worst character deaths ever presented in a video game.

Joel dies at the hands of Abby, less than 2 hours into the game after we’ve seen him for only 10 minutes or so. He and his brother Tommy willingly walk into a very suspicious situation, in the most stupidly uncharacteristic way, revealing their names and where they’re from. They say this to a group of 10-20 strangers, in a building where they can easily be ambushed and restrained. Abby is at the helm of this group, driven to Jackson for one thing- the need to avenge her father who Joel killed. After hearing who they are, the group is obviously more alert and ready to strike. Joel then says, and I quote ‘Y’all act like you’ve heard of us or something’… Bear in mind here, that our Joel from the first game knew he was a wanted man and that he couldn’t trust anyone. Hell, he didn’t even trust Ellie for a good while before he started to care for her. But here he willingly gives his name and acts shocked when it’s recognised? This is not the Joel we know, who’s incredibly smart and can see a trap a mile off.

In one of the most sickening occurrences I’ve ever seen in a video game, Abby then shoots Joel in the knee with a goddamn shotgun. Tommy, of course, jumps into action to help his brother but is quickly restrained and knocked out. While listening to Joel’s horrific groans of pain as he lays wounded on the floor, Abby then has the audacity to ask him to ‘Guess’ who she is? Other than the fact that this is incredibly cringy, there’s no way in hell Joel would have the faintest clue who she is. He doesn’t run a family check on everyone he kills, does he? She could be the daughter of a random soldier he killed or some other nobody.

Ever a badass till the end, still having no clue who she is, Joel tells Abby to get on with whatever she has planned. She gets someone to tourniquet his leg while she collects her weapon to end his life- a golf club of all things. After calling him a ‘stupid old man’, something that both upset and pissed me off too much, Abby then begins to start beating Joel to death. You play as Ellie now, as she tries to find him. She enters this group’s hideout to see her father hunched on the ground, curling in on himself, spasming because of numerous brutal hits he’s received to his head. His face is bloody and bruised, his eyes barely open as a pool of blood spreads around him. We feel the horrendous pain Ellie does as she’s quickly restrained and forced to watch Joel meet his death. She begs, rambling for him to get up and leave, but there’s nothing she can do. Ellie’s horrified cries are ignored as she begs for mercy and with a sickening crunch, Joel receives one final brutal blow to the head.

And he’s gone. Like that.

If this was written true to the character we know and love, Joel would have never entered that building and given his name that easily. Neither would’ve Tommy. These are two seasoned veterans of a zombie outbreak, who have seen the horrid measures people will go to when provoked or desperate. Is the game really trying to tell me that they’d trust a bunch of suspicious-looking kids, walking willingly into a crowded area with no weapons, standing apart instead of together? Joel didn’t trust anyone in the first game, why would this change?

Regardless of the fact that he’s in Jackson now, which is ‘friendly to travellers’, and that he’s grown ‘softer’, he’s still not gonna be trustworthy of strangers. By and by, Joel is still a wanted man and he knows this, he took away the world’s chance at a cure for Pete’s sake. Secondly, this is plain and simple a terrible death for Joel. Not because of how he died (because this is a zombie apocalypse, after all, it’s going to be brutal even if it’s awful to see) but the fact that this happens the way it did and the placement of it. There’s no closure to his character arc or to the rift between himself and Ellie that’s, at this moment, unknown to the reader. He didn’t die saving Ellie, which as cliche as it sounds, would have juxtaposed beautifully with Sarah’s death at the start of the first game. Imagine how satisfying it would have been to see that Joel would be willing to die for Ellie after he’s been focused only on surviving and himself. Imagine if he’d died in Ellie’s arms just like Sarah did in his…

The timing is also really bad considering we’ve barely seen any of him in the two hours we’ve played. When we see Joel die, it doesn’t feel as impactful as it could’ve been. We haven’t seen any new or old encounters with him and Ellie, except for the small seconds at the start as he retells the end of the first game. We haven’t had a chance to fully reconnect with him. His odd actions further distance us away from him because he’s not acting like he usually would. Therefore we’re left with a horrifying death that feels hollow, strange and disconected.

Abby does not help make this scene any better, which is a shame, because I think if different choices were made to push this death further in the game, we could have had a chance to care for her or at the very least begin to like her. Instead, we have no clue as to who she is or what her motivations are before this. All we know is she’s looking for someone. To then see this new character kill someone so beloved, in the most brutal way… Players are gonna hate her immediately! I hated her immediately! And like I said, her dialogue in this scene is atrociously bad, especially when she insults Joel. That really felt like you were adding salt to the wound there Naughty Dog.

Imagine if you will, what a better death or a change in chronological order of Joel’s death could have done to help the story. If we’d got to know Abby more, playing as her for longer than two hours, she might not have been as hated. The player could have begun to like her and sympathise with her, slowly realising who she is and at the same time, seeing the damage Joel has caused in his selfish decisions. She could have still killed Joel, but towards the end of the game, so that the player would have felt more conflicted about her doing it after seeing her past, seeing the pain that she went through. The game could have reminded us that Joel is still an anti-hero. Imagine that? If the game had made us admit to ourselves that, though it’s painful to watch, his death might have just needed to happen to make up for the loss of everyone he killed? It could still have fit the environment they’re in too, with a brutal and harsh death that could’ve come out of nowhere, but still felt justified in the story. Tess in the first game had a brilliant death, befitting of her badass character, yet still shocking and realistic to the world she lived in. Instead of becoming a zombie, she instead let herself be shot after bravely standing outnumbered against the enemy while Joel and Ellie escaped. It was a great death and Joel had every right to one of his own.

Maybe he didn’t even need to die for his actions at all though? Let’s not forget that he’s not the only one who has done bad and unspeakable things in this broken world the characters live in. He’s not irredemable, he’s a complicated human being who has had to adapt to the world around him. Think about some of the groups we came across in the first game- is Joel really worse than them? Yes, he took away the world’s chance at a new begining, but did it even deserve to start again after seeing how horrid people had become? Imagine if your loved one was sacrificing themself for a world that didn’t deserve it? Imagine if the cure might not even work or be possible to create, would you really just let them die? Joel’s only human, he acted with his heart instead of his mind. I have no doubt that Abby would probably do the same, or Ellie, or any other character who had those same choices ahead of them. Joel’s actions were selfish, yes, but he shouldn’t have to die for it. I wouldn’t want to lose someone I cared deeply about, just for a possible cure that would save an unworthy world.This is why we aren’t finding fault with the fact that Joel died, it’s HOW and WHY it happened that’s got us so pissed off.

What makes his death and the story even worse is the ending of the game. All the pain and trauma Ellie goes through killing all of Abby’s friends to find her becomes worthless. Why- she lets her go free. After fighting her twice and losing her fingers during one of those fights, Ellie suddenly has an epiphany and realises that revenge isn’t the answer. She lets Abby go. Once again, I understand what Naughty Dog were trying to do here and once again it could have worked.

‘Revenge is bad’. It’s been in many games and this message has worked beautifully in most too, like in Red Dead Redemption 2 for example. It worked beautifully in the game because it’s something that Arthur makes reference to a lot, reiterating the fact that ‘revenge is a fool’s game’. We see that pan out when John gets revenge at the end of the game and pays the price for it. The reason it fails in The Last of Us 2 is that this message comes from nowhere. Ellie has killed hundreds of people leading up to her final fight with Abby and she’s lost even more in the process too, including friends, her family and now her ability to play the guitar which was the final big thing linking her back to Joel. She’s brutally murdered many, torturing others so badly that she turned into a shell of herself afterwards. She suffers from PTSD because of Abby’s actions, seeing the death of Joel repeatedly, leaving her physically and emotionally weak. It doesn’t make any sense that after all this traumatising violence and pain, she suddenly gives up on the notion of revenge when she’s just about to kill the murderer of her father. The most disappointing thing is this message could have still worked if done correctly. If she could have realised revenge is pointless sooner, this wouldn’t feel as out of place as it does. Why does this one person, the murderer out of all people, change Ellie’s mind, after killing so many? Sure, you could say she has a family now and she was reminded of them, but then why would they have such an impact at the point of Abby’s near death, when Dina begging Ellie to stay didn’t work in the first place? It’s. Bad. Writing.

Abby and Ellie have both hurt each other equally, killing family, close friends and their fathers. Instead of killing each other, the story could have led them to realise together that Ellie is still the key to saving humanity, and with Abby’s link to the fireflies, they could somehow still create a cure.

Imagine. That. How fulfilling that would have been? Instead of the horrid, pointless ending we got instead.

Joel’s death could have brought the two together, connecting the Fireflies once again with the cure to right the wrongs he did. He could have realised that Abby was looking for him and willingly sacrifice himself to make up for what he did, completing his arc like I mentioned while also dying a fitting, badass death. He could have left a note for Ellie to read, explaining his actions, to say sorry and to show that he knows this is the only way to fix what he did. At the end of the game, Ellie could have looked out on a recovering world, singing her own rendition of Joel’s song, this time full of new beginnings in the face of great sacrifice.

That’s how you finish a story and a character’s arc. I’m no world-class writer, but I could imagine many different ways this same story and message could have panned out but with better writing, pacing and time, telling a tale of angst and sadness, while opening up a new chapter of hope and healing. The real end of the game leaves you feeling hollow and depressed, unfulfilled in the journey you’ve just experienced. Games are at their basic principle means of enjoyment, we play them to escape our lives and to have fun. They can be dark, harrowing and painful but still an absolute pleasure to play. What doesn’t help in defence of the game’s story is that the game director Neil Druckman said himself ‘For us, with The Last of Us specifically (Uncharted is a little different in our creative approaches), we don’t use the word ‘fun’. That feels… wrong to hear. If video games are not enjoyable, then what is the point in playing them?

I think it really says something in particular when the most enjoyable part of the game is a flashback between Joel and Ellie where there’s no real action. It’s just them, exploring a museum for her birthday, talking and joking and it’s the best part of the game hands down. It doesn’t include any of the new brilliant gameplay and while stunning, doesn’t really have much visual impact either. What makes it so special is just seeing the characters we love interact and have fun like it’s a scene cut straight from the first game. After 7 years, us fans were yearning to see more of Joel and Ellie’s cute relationship, so to only have that and a few other small scenes is so… unsatisfying. If we had more of their adventures before Joel’s death, I know that many people would have been much more accepting of it. It would have definitely been more impactful, having given us the chance to reconnect with them both again. Going back to Ellie on her revenge path after that museum scene was so depressing. It’s such a shame that further interaction between them was just forgotten about and thrown aside. They were such a big factor in the first game’s success, so to see them barely together felt too strange. Though we play as Ellie for the most part, it began to feel less and less like Last of Us and more like some new zombie game. Playing as Abby so suddenly too and for so long just further implemented that weird feeling. It’s a real shame because I really can’t stand her at all now. But she could have been a great character if the story was much different.

I can’t help but feel that the story feels patronising and degrading to its audience in some ways. Some of the choices and plot lines feel very disrespectful to the characters and fans, simply because of what it expects of you after forcing you through unwanted pain and misery. Let’s not forget also that we were lied to in the trailers. Showing numerous clips of Joel as his oldest self to reel us in, then change them to be flashbacks? Flashbacks which happen to be the only good pieces of storytelling in the whole game. It’s just wrong. And quite frankly it’s disgusting. Video games are expensive nowadays. We already knew many fans were gonna buy it anyway because we’re loyal to what we love. But to intentionally make that push, using lies, to secure sales for an expensive game from a huge fan base… it’s disrespectful.

As a whole, I can see what Naughty Dog were trying to do. They were trying to create something different, do what they wanted instead of what the fans wanted. That’s not a bad thing at all, it’s ballsy and creative to do something like that with a well-loved franchise. Rockstar took that same leap when they created Red Dead Redemption 2, forcing you to play as Arthur instead of the beloved John. It worked for them because they wrote the story well enough so that you’d have time to explore this new character and grow to love him, especially when faced with his actions and his mortality. Arthur dies brutality but fans still love the game because it was a fitting and wonderful way to finish his character arc.

This idea fails with The Last of Us 2 because the player isn’t properly engaged with the story before shit hits the fan and their favourite character is dead. I have no doubt that if it was written differently, if we’d been able to see more of Joel before his death and had more than two hours played with Abby that this story could have actually worked. The message that ‘revenge is bad’ could have worked. Ellie and Abby both have the same arc, experiencing something traumatic, being consumed by revenge, then ultimately realising it’s worthless to kill. We could have followed the same arc with a much better version of the story we actually got.

Instead, it feels like the game is intentionally pissing us off, continuously ruining that idea, first by making us watch as Joel is brutally and stupidly killed so soon, then secondly, by then forcing us to play and connect with Abby for 50% of the game when that seed of hate for her has already been planted. This is another one of the moments in the game where I feel like we’re being patronised. Is it really fair to paint us in such a bad light for not wanting to play and grow to like Abby, when we saw her as a stranger brutally kill our favourite character? Is it really that bad for us to hate her after she has caused so much pain when we’ve only known her for two hours? It’s such a shame because she could have actually become a new well-loved character.

I’d just like to say that while I think the story is bad, no one who was involved in the making of this game should be attacked for it. Video games, especially in this age, are such hard things to make because so much goes into them and I don’t want to discredit anyone’s work. Regardless of my or anyone else’s opinions on the game or its story, the team at Naughty Dog have still poured hours of time and effort into making it. They shouldn’t be receiving attacks or hate, we can still discuss the game and our opinions while being respectful. The actors shouldn’t be receiving hate either, they acted brilliantly with what they were given. Ashley Johnson and Laura Bailey especially should be credited for their work. And Troy Baker, though he was only in it for a short while, deserves an award just for that final ending scene between Ellie and Joel- it made me cry buckets. He made this character come alive beautifully and he deserves all the praise for it. And so do the rest of the cast, who did exceptionally good jobs.

In my eyes (though it sounds bad) The Last of Us 2 doesn’t exist as a game. In my own perfect world, it’s actually just badly written fanfiction posted to Tumblr or Wattpad. As goes in my made up ending, Joel and Ellie move to Jackson and restart their lives after the end of the first game. Eventually, he tells her about what happened and there’s a rift between them for some time, which is, of course, to be expected- it was a momentously selfish thing for him to do. Over time though, Ellie learns to forgive him and the rest is history. Because there’s no real canon ending, anything can happen. So… Did they eventually create a cure? Who knows. Did they stay in Jackson, happily living out their lives? Maybe. Did Joel die a badass and sacrificial death protecting Ellie? Possibly. Or did Joel die eventually in old age, surrounded by his family, holding his daughter’s hand as he passed away?

I hope so…

He may have been a complicated anti-hero. He may have even been a villain. Regardless, he still deserved a respectful death and in my perfect makebelieve ending…

He got it.

🌟🌟/5

Photo Credit ~ some from @ inora_miller on Instagram

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stxleslyds · 3 years

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MY TOUGHTS ON PART TWO OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

A DC BOOK THAT TASTES LIKE MARVEL.

You know when you are reading a book and you feel like the story you are reading seems familiar but not really within the context you are reading it at the moment? If you can’t shake the wrong sense of familiarity you search for what it probably the biggest give away, the author.

Here it’s something like that; I have read other pieces of Chip Zdarsky’s work, namely Daredevil. While I could tell you the familiarity is there, in the subject of guilt after taking the life of another person, the reality is that this book doesn’t taste like Daredevil, it tastes like Marvel.

That can be either an excellent thing (because Marvel has amazing books) or something terrible (because DC isn’t Marvel and they don’t work the same way).

As of now I can’t really tell if this Red Hood story is going to be one or the other, but I can tell you that it feels out of place in the DC universe, or at least that’s how I see it. I will explore this particular thought later, I just thought this was a nice way to open this post.

If you would like to read the first post I made about this book I will leave the link here!

Now…let’s begin.

Part two picks up exactly where part one left off, we see Jason calling Oracle so she can bring the police to the place where Jason killed Andy a.ka. that gigantic piece of shit.

Jason is having some thoughts, ones that I think are important.

“I have taken lives before, a lot of them. I have killed guys knowing nothing about them except that they had guns and murder in their hearts. Those ones are easy; I don’t have to think of their mothers getting the news or of kids being...”

Jason is troubled. He is now in front of a reality that he never truly thought about but to be honest with you I strongly believe that nobody in the DC universe thinks beyond what happens in front of them, that’s just how fictional comic worlds are designed.

Anyway, there is a little something that bothers me in this inner monologue of his, like since when have “murderers” been Jason’s actual target? Like Joker was his target but he didn’t kill him, the base of Jason’s morals when it comes to killing has always been drugs, most importantly if you sell drugs to kids. So unless he is saying “murderers” because they were selling drugs that caused people (especially kids) to overdose then I don’t really get what is going on.

Another thing that I also talked about in the first post is that Jason hasn’t killed in a very long time, this man has been sticking to the Bats rule for so long that it’s actually unreal. Even when he shot the penguin and Batman proceeded to almost beat Jason to death the penguin hadn’t died. So once again I am thinking that Zdarsky has some info that he is not sharing right now or maybe he just didn’t read Lobdell's run (in which case, can you really blame him?)

Now let me talk about the other part of his monologue “…I don’t have to think of their mothers getting the news or of kids being...” This is something that I haven’t seen in DC, direct consequences after a hero/vigilante does something, and let me tell you it feels out of place. Is it a good or bad thing? I don’t really know but I have some thoughts on the subject.

I think it's unfair to put a comic character in that situation or dilemma. Jason has basically three reactions to the same situation and they are all valid, but can this situation be handled by a fictional person in a fictional world? Because to be fair I could also ask about the criminals that are put in hospitals after they are beat up by heroes, what if they die in the hospital? Is the hero a killer or does it fall on the hospital? If a criminal cannot pay for the attention given to them in hospitals and they immediately go back to criminal activity to pay for those things, are heroes a good thing? If the Joker bombs a hospital for the third time in four months and Batman does the same thing (take joker to Arkham) only for Joker to escape and do it again, is Batman as guilty as the Joker for the deaths of innocent people or not?

As I wrote it and as I read it again I see that it is a crazy thought because you can simply add more depth to the characters decisions and the consequences that would ensue because of them, but Gotham is a fictional city created to establish that crime is off the charts and that they need Batman because no amount of resources will be able to fix this city’s problems. So putting Jason in this position is new to me…but only in DC (more of this particular thought below).

Going back to the comic in question, I feel like Jason had the answers and the ideas all in his head. In this issue alone he basically says that if the mother does not pull through the boy will be alone, but alone means going into the system (a horrible system that Jason does not trust and needs improvement), but also, Jason recognizes that if the mother died and the father was left alive then that man would have done horrendous stuff. I just simply wouldn't believe that a man that gave drugs to both his wife and son so they wouldn't bother him is just going to change after realizing that his wife died because of him. Even less believable is him becoming an amazing father.

In the big scheme of things, Jason has killed people who fitted very certain characteristics, never innocents (bye, Morrison). What happens after the killing is done? We don’t know because past stories have never focused on that (criminals in comics are by default one dimensional, villains are not)

But here is the thing, Zdarsky is a Marvel writer and Marvel has gone in depth within those situations (like what happens after heroes commit mistakes or kill someone) mostly with Civil War by Mark Millar and more recently in Daredevil written by Chip Zdarsky, but DC hasn't and DC has been plain for a long time, DC doesn't really explain how batman hurts people severely and nothing happens beyond that.

What I am trying to say is that Zdarsky is going for a different and unique route for Jason here but I think the story is out of place in the DC universe.

I promise I am done with those thoughts, they were really difficult to put on paper and to make them make sense, so I apologize if I only confused you, sorry!

Anyway! After the monologue is done we have a flashback where little Jason is being told by his mother to go buy bread (the only thing they can afford) but she is also making him leave so he doesn’t have to be present when Robby (a friend if you ask Jason’s mom, a drug dealer if you ask Jason) comes to the apartment to help her.

Sadly as Jason is leaving Robby is walking up the stairs, now not to copy little Jason but fuck Robby. Jason’s issues with drugs, drug dealing and overdosing is once again shown here but what is also shown is the violence that comes with it. Jason being terrified for himself (and his mother) as Robby pulls a knife on him broke my heart and as he is left there in the corridor to his apartment all we can see is a defeated little boy and that shit hurts a lot.

After that we jump back to the future with none other than Batgod…I mean Batman. Batman is following a man called Sydney and apparently he disappointed Batman because B told him to stop being a criminal, like come on man if I ask nicely or if I break both of your arms you will surely stop, right? Yeah, no.

I feel like I mentioned something about this while my brain decided that DC never usually explains what happens with criminals after they get caught or killed and now here we are. Consequences. Batman scares a man off of working for Scarecrow but the man still needs to work (does he have a family to provide for? We don’t know. Does he do it because it’s the only job he can get? We don’t know.)

This Batman intermission ends up with Oracle telling him that Jason might be in trouble.

So we find ourselves back with Jason and Tyler in his safe house, Zdarsky does not hesitate and first thing he does is give us a couple of very angsty panels.

I love the way it hurts.

Jason honey, my sweet chonky boy…what are you doing?

Well at least I am not the only one asking that because Jason is having a moment to reflect about what has happened, what is happening and what could happen in the future. In this monologue he says the following:

“Dammit, Jason, what the hell are you doing? You can’t take care of this kid! But you can’t put him in the system either! Just waiting for some obsessed militaristic billionaire to adopt him? Dammit. His dad was scum, he hurt Tyler, he hurt his mom. But if Tyler’s mom doesn’t pull through…I just made this kid an orphan. He is my responsibility, he is too young to really see what he’s gone through, he can still be saved…unlike…”

Yeah that’s some really angsty thoughts, he is really going through it and I understand it. He lost his cool after what that horrible human being said he did and killed him and now he has to face the consequences of his actions, he recognizes that if the boy is left truly alone he will have to step up…but here is the thing, does Jason really want that? It seems to me like Jason is deeply against the idea of children working as heroes, and here he is as an adult that is a vigilante with an impressionable child that sees the Red Hood as his hero, I don’t know, it looks like the perfect recipe for a disaster.

But we don’t get to see what Jason does right away because its flashback time.

Jason only moved from his spot in the corridor of his apartment door to get the bread but as Robby comes out of said door Jason is there waiting. Robby teases that he and Jason’s mom ended up sharing the “medicine” and that she will be sleeping for a long time, and that seems to be it for Jason because next thing you know Robby is falling down the stairs.

Aw, shit.

Jason from the future continues his monologue while he remembers what happened on those stairs.

“I never had a chance, not for one second. But he does, Tyler has a chance. I can help him, help him be okay. This doesn’t…what I did…what his parents did, it doesn’t have to define him.”

So Jason wants to make things right for Tyler so he doesn’t become like Jason. Now I don’t truly know what Zdarsky is going for but I will go for the unconscious route, little Jason pushed Robby (that fucker) down the stairs and he was left unconscious there.

In Jason’s eyes Tyler is still a good kid that deserves only the best (like you Jason, please don’t think so low about yourself) and that can be saved from a life of vengeance, justice and trauma. But whatever Jason was going to actually say to Tyler we don’t know because Tyler informs Jason that through the Red Hood mask there is someone telling him that Batman is coming.

Batman appears out of nowhere as he does and starts talking shit.

Honestly Batman what is with that “not my town” bullshit? Baby this isn’t the medieval times, you are not a king and as far as I know not only is Lucius Fox richer than you but so is Dick so sit your ass down and shut the fuck up.

Luckily Jason is giving the outstanding amount of zero fucks and tells Batman exactly what he needs to be told, sadly Jason’s big brain time doesn’t last long because he absolutely loses his cool and starts a fight. So you know what that means, monologue time!

“This was a mistake, but I can’t help myself, he gets under my skin. His sanctimony, he acts like he’s God, all knowing, all seeing when really…he’s just another failed parent.”

Amen. Jason knows many languages but he chose to speak facts.

As the monologue ends Batman is standing over Jason like he is about to murder him but no such thing happens because Tyler, who was quietly watching them fight, jumps in to protect Jason. Yep, there goes my heart, goodbye.

And this is it. The issue ends with Tyler putting an end to the fight and telling batman that he has to leave the Red Hood alone because he is a good guy. Jason of course is thankful and promises that everything is fine.

I don’t know about you guys but so far I can’t say if I like the book or not. Both parts left me with mixed feelings. I obviously want to see how it ends but I honestly think that there is only one way this story can end with a happy ending, which I think it would be Tyler going back to his mom and Jason somehow working to help her with her drug addiction, maybe even have Dick involved so he can help them economically.

Things that I surely do not want to see are Jason backing down again and limiting himself to the Bats rules. I also absolutely don’t want Zdarsky to go all Geoff Johns on us and make Jason think that he should give up the Red Hood mantle.

Jason really needs to gain his confidence back, he was smart, calculated and strategic and now they have taken those things away to accentuate his “daddy issues” and “inferiority complex”. Why the quotation marks you ask? Oh, because those things are bullshit and there is no room for those things in Jason’s characterization other than to add more angst to the plot.

Let me know how you felt about the issue and my review! Are you excited about what the four next issues are going to bring to the story?

Also if you read Marvel, did this issue taste like Marvel to you too or am I going crazy?

#Jason Todd #red hood #red hood outlaw #batman: urban legends #batman urban legends #infinite frontier #DC comics #robin

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manatehispants · 3 years

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No, You Left Me

It’s been three and half months since Dean had come back from one of the darkest places of his life. As unbelievable as it sounds this place was that if being a demon. There had been many unimaginable terrors of this time in his life. He had committed just about every unthinkable act in the book. In fact he had become so nasty that even Crowley, the King of Hell had wanted nothing to do with him in the end. Most of it the elder Winchester brother tried to block out with cases and drinking. But late at night he would wake with memories racing to the front of his mind. The worst memories weren’t of the fighting or murder he committed, but of the joy he had felt during this. Castiel and Sam always told Dean that wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t him who had enjoyed it. It was something else! But Dean knew the truth. He knew they were wrong. Something in him was broken even before this all happened. Some part of him had enjoyed every moment of being a demon and being Crowley’s best friend. Crowley.....That son of a bitch was to fault for this. He had caused all these sleepless nights, all this chaos and when he realized Dean was more broken than he was.....Crowley had thrown him away. Even now sitting on the edge of a cheap motel bed Dean felt a rush of embarrassment wash over him. His hands balled into fists and his head hung low. What was so wrong with him that everyone left? How did he become so broken that the only people who remained in his was his brother and an angel who didn’t know any better? Why did everyone leave?

Dean scowled down at his lap trying to push these thoughts from mind. If he sat there thinking on this too much he was liable to do something more messed than what he planned on doing already. And what he had planned even in his current state of mind he knew it was dumb. Two days ago he had left Sam and Castiel. He had told them he was going to meet up with an ex girlfriend. Both Sam and Castiel knew it was a lie. They knew Dean was trying to ditch them, but what could they do about it? They couldn’t force him to stay by their sides. The more you tried to tell someone like Dean to do something the less likely he was to do it. So, against their better judgment they had let him go after getting a promise that he would keep his phone on and be back within a week. Maybe this break from them would be for the best. Maybe he finally get out of the slump he had been although nobody really believed this. Castiel and Sam just hoped that Dean didn’t do anything too dumb on his own. Castiel had asked if they should follow after him. Sam had been tempted to say yes, but ultimately decided against it saying Dean was a big boy.

It was uncertain to Dean how long he had been sitting on the bed, but finally he rose up. His eyes flickered the floor. Around the messed up queen bed were scattered beer cans. Just beyond that there was a Devil’s Trap craved into the cheap wood floor. Candles were placed around it along with other some other things. The room was set up for a demon summoning. Not just any demon. Oh no. There was only one demon Dean wanted—No needed to speak with and that demon was Crowley. Dean hadn’t seen or heard a peep from that son of a bitch since everything went down. Needless to say the demon had a lot to answer for. For every monstrous thing Dean had done as a demon, for every night he has woken up in a cold sweat with thoughts of the past, for every damn thing that demon has done.....He was going to answer for it. Just thinking about it all was getting the Winchester heated behind the collar. As he began the ritual Dean already started questioning his actions. Wasn’t this exactly what he would advise Sam against doing if things were turned around? The absolute worst time to summon a demon is in a highly emotional. Desperation, sorrow, and anger, they are what fuel demons and give their soulless lives meaning. It’s these emotions that allow for them to dig their claws into a human and twist them around. No demon in all of creation was more talented at this than Crowley. And still, Dean couldn’t resist summoning him. Candles were now lit and the necessary words had been said. Everything was in place. Only one thing was missing....Where the Hell was Crowley? Dean glanced around the small room. Nope. No Crowley. Dean growled under his breath.

“Figures. Anytime someone actually wants you around you won’t show, right? I should have just went somewhere and shouted for you not to come then ya would have ca—“

The candles flickered and like a rabbit being pulled from a hat Crowley wasn’t there one a second and now suddenly he appeared. Dean got lucky. Hell’s King was exactly where Dean wanted him....Right in the Devil’s Snare. Crowley looked at Dean, he then looked down at the ground, and immediately saw the predicament he was in. Raising his brows he once again the hunter. He knew Dean was mad at him. Hell, he would be pissed if he was Dean too and it was part of why Crowley had almost ignored this summoning. Why his demon lackeys had begged him not to come. He knew he should listen to them, but there was something about these Winchesters. He was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. Only unlike the moth, Crowley fully knew he would get burned every time he got too close to these men. Sam he could resist maybe even kill. But Dean was different. For some sick reason he would always answer Dean.

The two had an understanding of sorts. They would push each other to their breaking points, mock one another mercilessly, and even have the occasional throw down with one another. But at the end of it all they had an understanding that they needed each other. In a sick way Dean was the only being Crowley could maybe possibly trust. He loathed the flannel wearing duo that was Dean and Sam, but at the same when it came time to throw his eggs in a basket it would always be theirs. He let out a soft chuckle and took a step towards Dean causing the other man to tense up. Crowley stopped inches from the edge of the markers to his current holding cell.

“Can’t blame a girl for getting dolled up for a night out can you?”

Came the self proclaimed “New Devil”’s explanation. Dean rolled his eyes. Crowley looked no different than normal. He had one a black custom fit suit with dark crimson colored tie. His shoes were some over priced sleek black dress shoes. Dean on the other hand looked a mess. His hair was out of place. The blue and black flannel shirt he wore was days pass needing a wash. His jeans had several food stains on them and for some reason he was currently wearing only one sock. It was obvious Dean hadn’t slept any time recently. The elder Winchester didn’t understand it. How could Crowley show up here and act like nothing was out of the ordinary for them? How could he ignore everything that had last transpired between them? Why was he being so.....Normal? Why was Dean feeling like he was standing before an ex girlfriend who had broken his heart and moved on? Too much liquor and not enough sleep. That was surely to blame. A thousand insults sat on the edge of Dean’s tongue yet none would leave his mouth. You’d never guess it from Crowley casual mannerism, but the silence was killing him. Being here with the man he damn near affectionately called “Squirrel” was painful. When Dean had been a demon they shared something. Crowley had felt a real connection for the first time since he become what he was. That is until Dean went full psychopath on him. He had to cut ties. Save face while still had some to save.

“Funny isn’t it? I come all the way here.....You’re welcome for that by the way.....But you’re the one who looks like Hell. You’re wearing flannel worse than normal. It’s offensively impressive. Now why don’t you be a doll and tell Daddy what is you need?”

Look of disgust came across Dean’s face. He thought he was going to spew vomit all over Crowley after hearing him call himself “daddy”. That was the last thing he wanted to think of the man being to him. He pointed a finger at Hell’s King.

“Dude! Don’t ever say that again! And you know what you said before you try asking!”

“And you’re avoiding answering me by being all shout-y. Real mature. Stop wasting time, Squirrel. Some of us have things to do. Realms to run and lives to destroy.”

Countered Crowley his tone now showing irritation. His temper was always short, but this interaction had him on edge. He didn’t like that being here made him feel.....Something. He was a demon, he shouldn’t feel at all! That was supposed to be the beauty of being soulless! It was why he could do such horrendous things and think nothing of it. Or at least he had been able to until he crossed paths with this man and his insufferable younger brother. Dean gritted his teeth. He never should have summoned this asshole, but what was done was done.

“You turned me into a freaking demon, Crowley! Did you really think I was going to forget about that? That I wouldn’t be pissed and come gunning for you!?”

Raw emotion was too clear in Dean’s voice and he hated himself for not being able to hold it together better. For a split second Crowley looked from Dean. He couldn’t believe it, but he felt a small bit of guilt. As twisted as it sounded he hadn’t gone into things meaning to upset Dean. Honest! He thought he was doing the hunter a favor. He was freeing him the same he had been freed years ago when he became a demon. Why couldn’t anybody see this? Why couldn’t he understand it? His eyes locked back onto Dean and Crowley scowled at him.

“I freed you and we both know you loved every damn minute. Don’t bullshit a professional bullshit. What are you really mad about, Squirrel? Are you mad at me for giving you a taste of freedom or are you mad at yourself for not realizing how good it would feel? Please don’t tell me you’ve summoned me for a whole “feelings” talk. If so, spare me the torture of it and end me now.”

His mouth hung open in a mix of shock and anger. He wasn’t mad at Crowley exactly. This was how the ex crossroads demon had always been. This was expected behavior. He was a demon and this is their nature. To be cruel and uncaring. Dean was disappointment in himself, because some part of him despite knowing had expected more of Crowley. He was mad because what Crowley said was painfully true. He had been kidding himself earlier when he tried saying this was to have it out with the demon and make him pay. As good as punching someone would feel.....He didn’t want to hurt Crowley. Not for this. Cocking his head to the side Crowley watched Dean with curiousness.

“What’s the matter, darling? Cat got your tongue.”

Without responding Dean picked up the knife he had used to crave the Devil’s Trap. Crowley frowned confused as ever while he watched the elder Winchester brother bend down and destroy the marking freeing Crowley. This caused the King of Hell to retreat further into the Devil’s Trap. He didn’t trust whatever was happening for a minute.

“Get. Out.”

This was all Dean could get out as he gritted his teeth together. Crowley’s eyes went wide. Maybe it was stubborn pride or perhaps it was that nagging feeling for Dean which he couldn’t explain, but Crowley didn’t budge.

“Didn’t you hear me? Leave.”

“Oh I heard you. But I don’t take orders from you. You don’t get to summon me and send me away at will. You wanted me? Well you got me now deal with it.”

A snort escaped Dean. He shook his head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It had been so stupid to call Crowley here. He should have listened when Castiel told him not to leave. He should have gone done to the strip club and drowned his sorrows there. Grabbing a duffle bag off the ground Dean went to the door.

“Fine. You stay. I’ll go.

This was all the fight Dean suddenly had left in him. He felt drained and exhausted as he made his way out to the car. Crowley stood in spot. He knitted his brows together. For once he didn’t know what to do. He shook his head.

“Feelings. Who the Hell needs them? Not me.....Not me.”

The King of Hell muttered softly. Raising his hand to the side of his head he snapped his fingers.

“Till we meet again.”

Crowley said louder before vanishing from the room knowing the two were fated to meet again sooner than later. If only he had known just how soon that would be.

#supernatural #Supernatural fanfic #dean x crowley #Crowley #dean winchester #Ao3 #Fanfiction #Crowley Still Doesn't Like Feelings #Neither Does Dean

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