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makeste · 2 years

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BnHA Chapter 334: Horikoshi Apology Chapter

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all, ��hey, guess what! Remember Star and Stripe, that new badass female hero character I introduced out of nowhere about six weeks ago, whose super-OP quirk is powerful enough to either end TomurAFO for good, or give him a game-changing upgrade at a critical time right before the final battle? Anyways, so you guys will never guess what I’m about to do to her!” Fandom was all, “are you going to kill her off.” Horikoshi was all, “HOW DID YOU -- okay, fine, whatever, yes. I’m killing her off.” Fandom was all, “( •̀ _•́).” Horikoshi was all, “(・∧・ ).” Fandom was all, “( ・ _ ・).” Horikoshi was all, “.........whatever, I’m still gonna do it.”

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all, “ACTUALLY, STAR REALLY WAS THE GREATEST HERO OF ALL TIME. AND OKAY FINE, I WON’T KILL THE PILOTS, AND ONE OF THEM IS ACTUALLY SUPER HOT. AND HERE’S SALAAM, FOR NO REAL REASON ASIDE FROM HE’S THE FUCKING BEST. AND HERE’S A CREEPY BABY TENKO, AND AN ACTUAL CLIFFHANGER ABOUT AFO THAT FOR ONCE DOESN’T HAVE AN OBVIOUS RESOLUTION. AND HERE ARE YOUR KIDS!! AND A FUNNY KACCHAN FACE! AND A SURPRISE APPEARANCE OF THE WINTER COSTUME EVEN THOUGH IT’S SEASONALLY INAPPROPRIATE! AND MORE DEKU ANGST, BUT THIS TIME TRIO-CENTRIC! THERE, I’VE DELIVERED EVERYTHING YOU COULD POSSIBLY ASK FOR, SO NOW WILL YOU PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR FULL AND UNRESERVED LOVE AND AFFECTION AGAIN.” You son of a bitch. I’m in.

okay Horikoshi, go ahead and get it all out of your system man

one last hurrah of playing around with all of these screentones and funky line widths and shit. fine. but then we really have to go back. it has been seven weeks. your other characters are wondering what happened to you. “say guys, whatever happened to Horikoshi?” “oh, he said he was going out for cigarettes.” “seriously? that was like seven weeks ago”

seriously man. hasn’t Deku already been through enough?? are you really gonna abandon him too? just like HIS DAD?? Deku where are you buddy. I need you to come over here and give Horikoshi the Guilt Trip Eyes

(ETA: holy shit it worked.)

lmao what the fuck

what the hell. does Tomura have wings now?? or is that the Noumu?? which just happens to have Tomura’s head now for some inexplicable reason?? and is spewing lightning everywhere for bonus incomprehensibility?

oh wait lol I scrolled down three inches and the narration is all “yeah so Tomura has wings now” WELL OKAY THEN

lol so he’s just zooming off all panicked like FUCK FUCK FUCK I NEED TO GIVE THIS TO SOMEONE ELSE FUCKING SHIT FUCK

and he’s heading for... is that his tropical island hideout?? no fucking way you guys. no way that the Spinner theory is actually going to come true. right??

(ETA: our little lizard buddy lives another day. on a related note, r.i.p. to our very short-lived new friend Kashi Kashiko.)

okay so the next page is just more of Star’s vestige intimidating the shit out of TomurAFO, and Tomura/AFO bitching about how YET AGAIN, All Might somehow symbolically showed up to ruin his day

yes yes, more flying panels yes okay we get it. so he’s running and they’re chasing him

but now they’re being blown away by some kind of shockwave or something? okay

FUCK YEAH MAN. LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

okay real talk, I’m glad at least one character finally acknowledged that S&S was leagues above All Might and who are we even kidding. that said, maybe next time we can get a moment like this before you brutally kill the character off for the sake of furthering TomurAFO’s character development. does that make sense? do you understand where you went wrong here, Horikoshi? are you taking notes?

oH MY GOD we are finally transitioning away from this battle holy shit. A CHANGE OF SCENERY AT LONG LAST

lol okay, so these two new characters are just chilling out and trying to watch some TV, and also just as an aside one of them is wanted for fucking murder

“anyway so that’s a brief two-sentence summary of my life up till this point. hope you enjoyed that, my companionable Fellow Murder-Person or whoever you are. anyways but yep, things are really starting to look up. I just hope nothing ludicrous and improbable happens to ruin it all, like for instance a crazy guy with monster wings suddenly crashing through the wall like the Kool-Aid Man and melting my brain by giving me a cursed-ass quirk”

LMAO

OHHHHHHHH YEAHHHHHHH

lol that was perfect. so this is what it feels like to be on the same page as the mangaka for the first time in almost two months. thank you Horikoshi I will cherish this

aaaaaaand here we go

so what exactly is the deal here. he gets to keep New Order but in exchange he lost almost all of his other quirks? I mean it’s better than nothing, don’t get me wrong

hahaha what

(ETA: don’t wanna badmouth the typesetters here, because they’re doing this shit for free every week just out of devotion to the fandom. that said, ngl, I totally read this at first as “still willing to help each other and they will surely the will of a hero...” lol.)

S&S: [shows up 328 chapters late to the party] [proceeds to become the main character for six weeks, most of which are spent finding increasingly outrageous ways to punch TomurAFO in the face] [casually tries to kill TomurAFO with some cruise missiles] [deliberately lets her quirk get stolen so that she can wipe TomurAFO’s Quirk HDD clean from the inside out] [melts into a giant floating skull and calls him a nameless punk] [flips the double bird and vanishes into the night]

huh. just... huh

well, whatever else, she certainly Came and Saw. and I guess time will tell if she also Conquered. I hope she did! please at least let her sacrifice play stay relevant. that’s all I’m asking at this point

anyway so AFO is all “WHATEVER, I LIVED, BITCH” because he doesn’t want to admit that he totally got his ass kicked by A GIRL omg. how embarrassing. sure hope nobody was watching

DSLKJSDFWERGJSLFKHGJ WHLAKJFSLD

THIS FUCKING SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME. THIS FIVE-YEAR-OLD CHILD’S FACE APPEARING OUT OF NOWHERE SURROUNDED BY SO MANY CREEPY HANDS THAT IT’S OVERKILL EVEN FOR HIM. WHY ARE YOU STARING INTO MY SOUL LIKE THAT

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY JUST LIKE THAT LOL OKAY THEN. YOU HAVE FUN PONDERING THAT SPEECH THEN TENKO

oh my goddddddd we’re finally cutting away from the battle holy shit. WE SURVIVED, YOU GUYS. HOW IS EVERYONE. IT’S BEEN SO LONG

OMG WELCOME BACK YOU FUCKING LOSERS

I’D ASK WHAT YOU WERE BUSY DOING THIS ENTIRE TIME, BUT I ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER IS “ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.” IT’S BECOMING A TRADITION OMG

DYING FROM THE SECONDHAND AWKWARDNESS OF IMAGINING THE HAWKSQUAD HAVING TO BREAK THE NEWS OF HOW THEY TRIED TO CALL IN A FAVOR FROM AMERICA’S COOLEST BESTEST BADDEST SUPERHERO AND IMMEDIATELY GOT HER FUCKING KILLED SMDH. “FROM THE BOTTOM OF OUR HEARTS, OUR BAD”

OH SO NOW SHE’S HERALDED AS THE STRONGEST HERO HUH

ONCE AGAIN, SO GLAD THIS IS ALL HAPPENING POSTHUMOUSLY. IT REALLY IS AN HONOR. VERY MEANINGFUL TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED

omfg it’s Salaam

you guys. the last time we saw him I hadn’t seen movie 3 yet and so he didn’t leave any kind of impression on me. but now that I have seen the film, let me just put it out into the world that I fucking love Salaam and he is the greatest meme hero to ever walk the earth. sorry Jeanist, it’s time to give up the crown. you had a good run

anyway and he’s right, too. the fuck do these guys think is going to happen if they just abandon Japan now. supposing AFO wins, do you think he’s just going to stop there? “not my country not my problem” is all well and good right up until it does become your fucking problem, and by then it’s already too late

but you know how it is though. governments gonna government

whatever. more importantly, holy shit

holy hell my man. that pilot helmet was not doing you any favors. please never put it on again. can we get this man and Naomasa and Aizawa all together in the same room and have them all just standing next to each other you guys. no particular reason, I just think Horikoshi owes me after all of that bullshit lol

anyway so the hot pilot guy is now explaining that their fighter jets were recording the battle, and so they have all kinds of cool data and shit which they’ll be happy to share with All Might and the rest

man I really want to see them actually sit down and watch that video lol. “okay so this is the part where Star turned into a giant and made a sword out of lasers and stabbed Shigaraki with it. and this is the part where we were all ‘fuck it’ and dialed up some hypersonic cruise missiles”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“THAT FREAK” OMG SAY NO MORE. ONLY ONE CHARACTER IN THIS SERIES COULD TAKE SUCH AN OTHERWISE NORMAL SENTENCE AND EFFORTLESSLY THROW IN THAT “FREAK” PART TO MAKE IT CRUDE LOL. SHOW ME MY SON, BELOVED MANGA

EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

it’s really bothering me that there was no simple way to crop that last panel out (which, nothing against All Might, I just want to put the focus where it belongs right now) because of the other two panels being connected by Kacchan’s spiky hair which I have missed so fucking much. eh whatever it’s fine

“MORE IMPORTANTLY,” Horikoshi says as he brazenly strolls back in from the doghouse, “I BELIEVE YOU WERE SAYING SOMETHING ABOUT FORGIVING ME IF I PROVIDED YOU WITH A NEW HILARIOUS KACCHAN FACE” okay first of all, I didn’t say I would forgive you, I said I would let you out of the time-out corner. and second of all... dammit

HOMG IT’S THE KIDS

TIME TO OVERANALYZE THIS EXTREMELY UNFINISHED BLOB OF A PANEL BECAUSE THAT’S HOW DEPRIVED I AM OF GOOD WHOLESOME 1-A CONTENT

THEY’RE ALL WEARING THEIR HERO COSTUMES BUT SOME OF THEM LOOK TO BE IN CASUAL MODE? OJIRO ARE YOU NOT WEARING A SHIRT?? AND JIROU TOOK HER JACKET OFF BECAUSE SHE WAS HOT OR SOMETHING I GUESS? AND OCHAKO ROCKING SOME KIND OF NEW “IMMA JUST THROW A FLANNEL OVER IT FOR THE AESTHETIC” SORT OF LOOK WHICH I’M ALL IN ON?

WINTER COSTUME? IN THE MIDDLE OF APRIL? IT’S MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK. AND NO GAUNTLETS EITHER?? ARE WE OFFICIALLY BACK IN THE GOOD TIMELINE

DON’T KNOW WHY BUT TODOROKI’S PANTS SEEM BAGGIER THAN USUAL AND NOW I’M HAVING THIS IMAGE OF HIM TRYING TO BORROW A PAIR OF PANTS FROM BAKUGOU. “HEY BAKUGOU CAN I BORROW YOUR PANTS.” “HAAAAAAAAAAAH?”

DID IIDA’S COSTUME GET TOO DAMAGED FOR HIM TO WEAR, OR WAS HE JUST LIKE “FUCK IT, I, IIDA TENYA, HAVE DECIDED THAT IF I’M GOING TO PUT MY LIFE ON THE LINE FIGHTING ALONGSIDE MY FRIENDS IN AN APOCALYPTIC BATTLE AGAINST A DEMIGOD SUPERVILLAIN, THEN I MIGHT AS WELL BE COMFY”

“WELL SAID, IIDA,” KAMINARI CHIMES IN WHILST ROCKING HIS SOFT KNIT CASUAL V-NECK

“MEH,” SAYS HORIKOSHI, SHAKING OUT HIS SORE WRIST. “THE TRUTH IS I PUT MOST OF MY SPOONS INTO ALL OF THOSE SCREENTONES EARLIER, AND THEN USED UP THE LAST OF THEM ON THE KACCHAN FACE. WHATEVER, TOKOYAMI DOESN’T REALLY NEED LEGS ANYWAY. AND KOUDA, SHOUJI, AND MOMO ONLY NEED ONE EACH. LET’S SEE... SERO... TSUYU... IT’S ENOUGH IF JUST DRAW THEIR HEADS, RIGHT?”

IS HAGAKURE EVEN HERE OR IS SHE BUSY TRAITORING. I DON’T SEE AOYAMA HERE EITHER. I ONLY COUNT FIFTEEN CHILDREN IN TOTAL WHERE ARE THE REST OF THEM

LAST BUT NOT LEAST, GOOD ON YOU KIDS FOR BURNING DEKU’S COSTUME OFFSCREEN. IT WAS THE RIGHT CALL. I’M PROUD OF YOU

OH NO I FINALLY SCROLLED DOWN AFTER TEN YEARS, AND

I fucking can’t. USE THIS TIME TO GET THIS KID SOME THERAPY I’M BEGGING YOU

WOOOOOO, YESSS, ALL RIGHTTTTTTTTTTTT

I’m not gonna analyze the conventional run-of-the-mill trio pose cliffhanger panel. I am not going to fucking analyze the conventional run-of-the-mill trio pose cliffhanger panel. I am not... ah fuck

Todoroki unbuckled his neck strap thingy because it’s casual day lol. as usual your face gives away absolutely nothing. just as handsome as ever though. good to see you

KACCHAN WHY DO YOU LOOK SO WORRIED WHILE LOOKING DIRECTLY AT DEKU COME ON MAN. YOU CAN’T JUST SHOW UP AFTER TWO MONTHS AND DO ME LIKE THIS I HAVE A FAMILY. PLEASE STOP MURDERING ME WITH YOUR OPENLY SOFT GAZES

DEKU LOOKS SO DETERMINED AND ALSO SO ANXIOUS AT THE SAME TIME SOMEHOW? I THINK IT’S SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE ADDED LINES DRAWN AROUND HIS EYES? LIKE THEY GIVE HIM THIS SUBTLE KIND OF WORN, STRESSED-OUT LOOK. HE REALLY DOES LOOK LIKE SOMEONE WHO’S BARELY SLEPT AT ALL FOR THE PAST HOWEVER-LONG-IT’S-BEEN-SINCE-JAKKU-I-LOST-TRACK. ANYWAY BUT HE IS ONLY JUST A LTTLE BOY STILL, AND HE’S GOT THE FATE OF THE WORLD RESTING ON HIS SHOULDERS, AND HE’S JUST LIKE “OKAY” BECAUSE HE’S A GOOD FUCKING KID, AND BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK ELSE IS HE SUPPOSED TO SAY, BUT HE’S ACTUALLY STILL UNDER SO MUCH STRESS, AND OH MY GOD. WHY DO YOU KEEP TORMENTING HIM LIKE THIS HORIKOSHI

anyways omg. I am so full of energy right now. literally all he did was hide the kids from us for two fucking months and then bring them back for like two pages and I’m over the fucking moon about it lmao. this manga has me fucking whipped

but what can I even say though. “glimmer of hope on the horizon” haha, fuck yeah

#bnha 334 #star and stripe #shigaraki tomura #all for one #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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innuendostudios · 3 years

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I was invited to give a talk on GamerGate over Zoom in early 2021. I've long been frustrated that there isn't a good timeline of GG and its origins on YouTube. When people ask "what the hell was GG anyway?" they often get referred to my or Dan Olson's videos on the subject, but both of them were made while GG was ongoing, and presumed a degree of familiarity on the part of the audience. There was just too much to say about what was already happening to spend time getting the audience up to speed, and it was safe to assume our audiences had enough context to follow along. But time moves fast on the internet, and many people who now care about such things weren't there while it was happening, and are lacking the necessary context to follow the better videos. For a long time, I've only been able to direct them to RationalWiki's timeline, which is excellent but so exhaustively comprehensive that it's likely to scare off first-timers.

I realize an hourlong lecture isn't necessarily helping matters, but the first 20-or-so minutes of this video are my attempt at streamlining the timeline such that people can be up to speed on the most important stuff fairly quickly. The rest is talking about what it all meant, how it prefigured the Alt-Right, and using it to better understand digital radicalization.

This video was made with the help of Magdalen Rose, who edited the slides to the audio while I was laid up with a back injury. Go sub to her channel! And please back me on Patreon.

Transcript below the cut.

FUCKING VIDEO GAMES? FUCKING VIDEO GAMES. THEY MADE DOZENS OF PEOPLE MISERABLE FOR YEARS OVER VIDEO GAMES! NOT EVEN FUCKING VIDEO GAMES, FUCKING ARTICLES ABOUT FUCKING VIDEO GAMES. THIS IS WHAT PASSES FOR LEGITIMATE GRIEVANCE. ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS SHIT??

Hi! My name is Ian Danskin. I’m a video essayist and media artist. I run the YouTube channel Innuendo Studios, please like share and subscribe.

I’m here to talk to you about GamerGate, and I needed to get all that out of the way. I’m going to talk about what GamerGate was and how it prefigured The Alt-Right, and there are gonna be moments where you’re nodding along with me, going, “yeah, yeah I get it,” and then the sun’s gonna break through a crack in the wall and you’ll suddenly remember that all this is happening because some folks - mostly ladies - said some stuff - provably true stuff, I might add - about video games and a bunch of guys didn’t like it, and you’re gonna want to rip your hair out. By the end of this, you will have a better understanding of what happened, but it will never not be bullshit.

Also, oh my god, content warning. Racism, sexism, antisemitism, homophobia, transphobia, rape threats, threats of violence, domestic abuse - I’m not going to depict or describe at length any of the worst stuff, but it’s all in the mix. So if at any point you need to switch me off or mute me, you have my blessing.

Brace yourselves.

Some quick prehistory:

In 2012, feminist media critic Anita Sarkeesian ran a Kickstarter campaign for a YouTube series on sexist tropes in video games. And, partway through the campaign, 4chan found it and said “let’s ruin her life.” And a lot of the male general gaming public joined in. And by “ruin her life” I’m not talking 150 angry tweets including dozens of rape and death threats per week, though that was a thing. I’m talking bomb threats. I’m talking canceled speaking engagements because someone threatened to shoot up a school. I’m talking FBI investigation. The harassers faced no meaningful repercussions.

And in 2013, Zoe Quinn released Depression Quest, a free text game about living with depression. They received harassment off and on for the next year, most pointedly from an incel forum called Wizardchan that doxxed their phone number and made harassing phone calls telling them to kill themself. The harassers faced no meaningful repercussions.

(Also, quick note: Zoe Quinn is nonbinary and has come out since the events in question. When I call Zoe’s harassment misogynist, understand I am not calling Zoe a woman, but they were attacked by people who hate women because that’s how they were perceived. Had they been out at the time things probably would’ve gone down similarly, but on top of misogyny I’d be talking about nonbinary erasure and transphobia.)

Okay. Our story begins in August 2014. The August that never ended.

Depression Quest, after a prolonged period on Greenlight, finally releases on Steam as a free download with the option to pay what you want. In the days that follow, Zoe’s ex-boyfriend, Eron Gjoni, writes a nearly 10,000-word blog called The Zoe Post, in which he claims Quinn had been a shitty and unfaithful partner. (For reference, 10,000 words is long enough that the Hugos would consider it a novelette.) This is posted to forums on Penny Arcade and Something Awful, both of which immediately take it down, finding it, at best, a lot of toxic hearsay and, at worse, an invitation to harassment. So Gjoni workshops the post, adds a bunch of edgelord humor (and I am using the word “humor” very generously), and reposts it to three different subforums on 4chan.

We’re not going to litigate whether Zoe Quinn was a good partner. I don’t know or care. I don’t think anyone on this call is trying to date them so I’m not sure that’s our business. What is known is that the relationship lasted five months, and, after it ended, Gjoni began stalking Quinn. Gjoni has, in fact, laid out how he stalked Quinn in meticulous detail to interviewers and why he feels it was justified. It’s also been corroborated by a friend that Quinn briefly considered taking him back at a games conference in San Francisco, but he became violent during sex and Quinn left the apartment in the middle of the night with visible bruises.

Off of the abusive ex-boyfriend’s post, 4chan decides it’s going to make Zoe Quinn one of their next targets, and starts a private IRC channel to plan the campaign. The channel is called #BurgersAndFries, a reference to Gjoni claiming Quinn had cheated on him with five guys. A couple sentences in The Zoe Post - which Gjoni would later claim were a typo - imply that one of the five guys was games journalist Nathan Grayson and that Quinn had slept with him in exchange for a good review of Depression Quest. Given the anger that they’d seen drummed up against women in games with the previous Anita Sarkeesian hate mob, #BurgersAndFries decides to focus on this breach of “ethics in games journalism” as a cover story, many of them howling with laughter at the thought that male gamers would probably buy it. This way, destroying Quinn’s life and career and turning their community against them would appear an unfortunate byproduct of a legitimate consumer revolt; criticism of the harassment could even be framed as a distraction from the bigger issue. Gjoni himself is in the IRC channel telling them that this was the best hand to play.

The stated aim of many on #BurgersAndFries was to convince Quinn to commit suicide.

Two regulars in the IRC, YouTubers MundaneMatt and Internet Aristocrat, make videos about The Zoe Post. Incidentally, both these men had already made a lot of money off videos about Anita Sarkeesian. Matt’s is swiftly taken down with a DMCA claim, and he says that Quinn filed the claim themself. (For the record, in those days, YouTube didn’t tell you who filed DMCA claims against you.) Members of the IRC also reach out to YouTuber TotalBiscuit, who had been critical of Sarkeesian and dismissive of her harassment, and he tweets the story to his 350,000 followers, saying a game developer trading sex for a good review might not prove true, but was certainly plausible.

This is where GamerGate begins to get public traction.

Zoe Quinn is very swiftly doxxed, with their phone number, home address, nudes, and names and numbers of their family collected. Gjoni himself leaks their birth name. The Zoe Post, and the movement against Quinn - now dubbed “The Quinnspiracy” - make it to The Escapist and Reddit, which mods will have little luck removing. The Quinnspiracy declares war on any site that does take their threads down, most vehemently NeoGAF. People who defend Zoe against the harassment start getting doxxed themselves - Fez developer Phil Fish is doxxed so thoroughly, hackers get access to the root folder of his website.

In what I’m going to call This Should Have Been The End, Part 1, Stephen Totilo, Editor-in-Chief at Kotaku where Nathan Grayson worked, in response to pressure not just from The Quinnspiracy but an increasing number of angry gamers buying The Quinnspiracy’s narrative, publishes a story. In it he verifies that Quinn and Grayson did date for several months, and that not only is there no review of Depression Quest anywhere on Kotaku, not by Grayson nor anyone else, but that Grayson did not write a single word about Quinn the entire time they were dating.

In response, The Quinnspiracy declares war on Kotaku. r/KotakuinAction is formed, which will become the primary site of organization outside of chanboards. The fact that their entire “movement” is based on a review that does not exist changes next to nothing.

Some people start to see The Quinnspiracy as potentially profitable. The Fine Young Capitalists get involved, a group ostensibly working to get women into video games but who have a Byzantine plan to do so wherein they crowdfund the budget and the woman who wins a competition gets to storyboard a game, but another company will make and she will get 8% of the profits, the rest going to a charity chosen by the top donor. 4chan becomes the top donor. They like TFYC because the head of the company has a vendetta against Zoe Quinn, who had previously called them out for their transphobic submission policy, and he falsely accused Quinn of having once doxxed him. 4chan feels backing an ostensibly feminist effort will be good PR, but can’t resist selecting a colon cancer charity because, they say, feminism is cancer and they want to be the cure to butthurt. They also get to design a character for the game, and so they create Vivian James, who will become the GamerGate mascot.

Manosphere YouTubers Jordan Owen and Davis Aurini launch a Patreon campaign for their antifeminist documentary The Sarkeesian Effect and come to The Quinnspiracy looking for $15,000 a month for an indefinite period to make it, which they get.

In what will prove genuinely awful timing, Anita Sarkeesian releases the second episode of Tropes vs. Women in Video Games, and, despite not being a games journalist and having nothing to do with Quinn or Grayson, she is immediately roped into the narrative about how feminists are ruining games culture and becomes the second major target of harassment. Both she and Quinn soon have to leave their houses after having receiving dozens and dozens of death threats that include their home addresses.

After being courted by members of the IRC channel, Firefly star Adam Baldwin tweets a link to one of the Quinnspiracy videos and coins the hashtag #GamerGate. This is swiftly adopted by all involved.

In response to all this, Leigh Alexander writes a piece for Gamasutra arguing that the identity that these men are flocking to the “ethics in games journalism” narrative to defend no longer matters as a marketing demographic. Gaming and games culture is so large and so varied, and the “core gamer” audience of 18-34 white bros growing smaller and septic, that there was no reason, neither morally nor financially, to treat them as the primary audience anymore. Love of gaming is eternal, but, she declared, “gamers,” as an identity, “are over.” Eight more articles contextualizing GamerGate alongside misogyny and the gatekeeping of games culture come out across several websites in the following days. GamerGate frames these as a clear sign of [deep sigh] collusion to oppress gamers, proving that ethics in games journalism is, indeed, broken, and Leigh Alexander becomes the third major target of harassment. These become known as the “gamers are dead” articles - a phrase not one of them uses - and they make “get Leigh Alexander fired from Gamasutra” one of their primary goals.

Something I need you to understand is that it has, at this point, been two weeks.

Highlights from the next little bit: Alex Macris, a higher up at The Escapist’s parent company, expresses support for GamerGate; he will go on to write the first positive coverage at a major publication and cement The Escapist as GamerGate-friendly. Mike Cernovich, aka “Based Lawyer,” gets GamerGate’s attention by mocking Anita Sarkeesian; he will go on to hire a private investigator to stalk Zoe Quinn. GamerGate launches Operation Disrespectful Nod, an email campaign pressuring companies to pull advertising from websites that have criticized them. They leverage their POC members, getting them, any time someone points out the rampant racism and antisemitism among GamerGaters, to say “I am a person of color and I am #NotYourShield”; most of these “POC members” are fake accounts left over from a previous, racist disinformation campaign. Milo Yiannapoulos gets involved, writing positive coverage of GG despite having mocked gamers for precisely this behavior in the past, and gets so much traffic it pulls Breitbart News out of obscurity and makes it a significant player in modern conservative news media.

[Hey! Ian from the future here. This talk mostly addresses how GamerGate prefigured the Alt-Right strategically and philosophically, but if you want a more explicit, material connection: Breitbart News took its newfound notoriety to become, as its Executive Chair phrased it in 2016, "a platform for the Alt-Right." That Executive Chair was Steve Bannon, who threw the website's weight behind The Future President Who Shall Not Be Named, and, upon getting his attention, would then go on to become his campaign strategist and work in his Administration. So, if you're wondering how one of the central figures of the Alt-Right ended up in the White House, the answer is literally "GamerGate." Back to you, Ian from the past!]

In what I’m calling This Should Have Been The End, Part 2, Zoe Quinn announces that they have been lurking the #BurgersAndFries IRC channel since the beginning and releases dozens of screenshots showing harassment being planned and the selection of “ethics in games journalism” as a cover. #BurgersAndFries has a meltdown, everyone turns on each other, and the channel is abandoned. And they then start another IRC and things proceed.

It goes on like this. I’m not gonna cover everything. This is just the first month. It should be clear by now that this thing is kind of unkillable. And I worry I haven’t made it obvious that this is not just a chanboard and an IRC. Thousands of regular, every day gamers were buying the story and joining in. They were angry, and no amount of evidence that their anger was unfounded was going to change that. You could not mention or even allude to GamerGate and not get flooded with dozens, even hundreds of furious replies. These replies always included the hashtag so everyone monitoring it could join in, so all attempts at real conversation devolved into a hundred forking threads where some people expected you to talk to them while others hurled insults and slurs. And always the possibility that, if any one of them didn’t like what you said, you’d be the next target.

To combat this, some progressives offered up the hashtag #GameEthics to the people getting swept up in GamerGate, saying, “look, we get that you’re angry, and if you want to talk about ethics in games journalism, we can totally do that, but using your hashtag is literally putting us in danger; they calling the police on people saying there’s a hostage situation at their home addresses so they get sent armed SWAT teams, and if you’ll just use this other hashtag we can have the conversation you say you want to have in safety.” And I will ever stop being salty about what happened.

They refused. They wouldn’t cede any ground to what they saw as their opposition. It was so important to have the conversation on their terms that not only did they refuse to use #GameEthics, they spammed it with furry porn so no one could use it.

A few major events on the timeline before we move on: Christina Hoff Sommers, the Republican Party’s resident “feminist,” comes out criticizing Anita Sarkeesian and becomes a major GG figurehead, earning the title Based Mom. Zoe Quinn gets a restraining order against Eron Gjoni, which he repeatedly violates, to no consequence; GG will later crowdfund his legal fees. There’s this listserv called GameJournoPros where game journalists would talk about their jobs, and many are discussing their concerns over GamerGate, so Milo Yiannopoulos leaks it and this is framed as further “proof of collusion.” 4chan finally starts enforcing its “no dox” rules and shuts GamerGate threads down, so they migrate to 8chan, a site famous for hosting like a lot of child porn. Indie game developer Brianna Wu makes a passing joke about GamerGate on Twitter and they decide, seemingly on a whim, to make her one of the biggest targets in the entire movement; she soon has to leave her home as well. GamerGate gets endorsements from WikiLeaks, Infowars, white nationalist sites Stormfront and The Daily Stormer, and professional rapist RooshV. And hundreds of people get doxxed; an 8chan subforum called Baphomet is created primarily to host dox of GamerGate’s critics.

But by November, GamerGate popularity was cresting, as more and more mainstream media covered it negatively. Their last, big spike in popularity came when Anita Sarkeesian went on The Colbert Report and Stephen made fun of the movement. Their numbers never recovered after that.

Which is not to say GamerGate ended. It slowed down. The period of confusion where the mainstream world couldn’t tell whether it was a legitimate movement or not passed. But, again, most harassers faced no meaningful repercussions. Gamers who bought the lie about “ethics in games journalism” stayed mad that no one had ever taken them seriously, and harassers continued to grief their targets for years. The full timeline of GamerGate is an constant cycle of lies, harassment, operations, grift, and doxxing. Dead-enders are to this day still using the hashtag. And remember how Anita had nothing to do with ethics in games journalism or Zoe Quinn, and they just roped her in because they’d enjoyed harassing her before so why not? Every one of GamerGate’s targets knows that they may get dragged into some future harassment campaign just because. It’s already happened to several of them. They’re marked.

(sigh) Let’s take a breath.

Now that we know what GamerGate was, let’s talk about why it worked.

In the thick of GamerGate, I started compiling a list of tactics I saw them using. I wanted to make a video essay that was one part discussion of antifeminist backlash, and one part list of techniques these people use so we can better recognize and anticipate their behavior. That first part became six parts and the second part went on a back burner. It would eventually become my series, The Alt-Right Playbook. GamerGate is illustrative because most of what would become The Alt-Right Playbook was in use.

Two foundational principles of The Alt-Right Playbook are Control the Conversation and Never Play Defense. Make sure people are talking about what you want them to talk about, and take an aggressive posture so you look dominant even when you’re not making sense. For instance: once Zoe leaked the IRC chatlogs, a reasonable person could tell the average gater, “the originators of GamerGate were planning harassment from the very beginning.” But the gater would say, “you’re cherry-picking; not everyone was a harasser.”

Now, this is a bad argument - that’s not how you use “cherry-picking” - and it’s being framed as an accusation - you’re not just wrong, you’re dishonest - which makes you wanna defend yourself. But, if you do - if you tell them why that argument is crap - you’ve let the conversation move from “did the IRC plan harassment?” - a question of fact - to “are the harassers representative of the movement?” - a question of ethics. Like, yes, they are, but only within a certain moral framework. An ethics question has no provable answer, especially if people are willing to make a lot of terrible arguments. It is their goal to move any question with a definitive answer to a question of philosophy, to turn an argument they can’t win into an argument nobody can win.

The trick is to treat the question you asked like it’s already been answered and bait you into addressing the next question. By arguing about whether you’re cherry-picking, you’re accepting the premise that whether you’re cherry-picking is even relevant. Any time this happens, it’s good to pause and ask, “what did we just skip over?” Because that will tell you a lot.

What you skipped over is their admission that, yes, the IRC did plan harassment, but that’s only on them if most of the movement was in on it. Which is a load of crap - the rest of the IRC saw it happening, let it happen, it’s not like anybody warned Zoe, and shit, I’m having the cherry-picking argument! They got me! You see how tempting it is? But presumably the reason you brought the harassment up is because you want them to do something about it. At the very least, leave the movement, but ideally try and stop it. They don’t, strictly speaking, need to feel personally responsible to do that. And you might be thinking, well, maybe if I can get them take responsibility then they’ll do something, but you’d be falling for a different technique I call I Hate Mondays.

This is where people will acknowledge a terrible thing is happening, maybe even agree it’s bad, but they don’t believe anything can be done about it. They also don’t believe you believe anything can be done about it. Mondays suck, but they come around every week. This is never stated outright, but it’s why you’re arguing past each other. To them, the only reason to talk about the bad thing is to assign blame. Whose turn is it to get shit on for the unsolvable problem? Their argument about cherry-picking amounts to “1-2-3 not it.” And they are furious with you for trying to make them responsible for harassment they didn’t participate in.

The unspoken argument is that harassment is part of being on the internet. Every public figure deals with it. This ignores any concept of scale - why does one person get harassed more than another? - but you can’t argue with someone who views it as a binary: harassment either happens or it doesn’t, and, if it does, it’s a fact of life, and, if it happens to everyone, it’s not gendered. And this is not a strongly-held belief they’ve come to after years of soul-searching - this is what they’ve just decided they believe. They want to participate in GamerGate despite knowing its purpose, and this is what would need to be true for that to be ok.

Or maybe they’re just fucking with you! Maybe you can’t tell. Maybe they can’t tell, either. I call this one The Card Says Moops, where people say whatever they feel will score points in an argument and are so irony-poisoned they have no idea whether they actually believe it. A very useful trick if the thing you appear to believe is unconscionable. You can’t take what people like that say at face value; you can only intuit their beliefs from their actions. They say they believe this one minute and that another, but their behavior is always in accordance with that, not this.

In the negative space, their belief is, “The harassment of these women is okay. My anger about video games is more important. I may not be harassing them myself, but they do kind of deserve it.” They will never say this out loud in a serious conversation, though many will say it in an anonymous or irreverent space where they can later deny they meant it. But, whatever they say they believe, this is the worldview they are operating under.

Obscuring this means flipping through a lot of contradictory arguments. The harassment is being faked, or it’s not being faked but it’s being exaggerated, or it’s not being exaggerated but the target is provoking it to get attention, which means GamerGate harassers simultaneously don’t exist, exist in small numbers, and exist in such large numbers someone can build a career out of relying on them! It can be kind of fun to take all these arguments made in isolation and try to string together an actual position. Like, GamerGate would argue that Nathan Grayson having previously mentioned Zoe Quinn in an article about a canceled reality show counts as positive coverage, and since Grayson reached out to Quinn for comment it’s reasonable to assume they started dating before the article was published (which is earlier than they claim), and positive coverage did lead to greater popularity for Depression Quest. But if you untangle that, it’s like… okay, you’re saying Zoe Quinn slept with a journalist in exchange for four nonconsecutive sentences that said no more than “Zoe Quinn exists and made a game,” and the price of those four sentences was to date the journalist for months, all to get rich off a game that didn’t cost any money. That’s your movement?

And some, if cornered, would say, “yes, we believe women are just that shitty, that one would fuck a guy for months if it made them the tiniest bit more famous.” But they won’t lead with that. Because they know it won’t convince the normies, even the ones who want to be convinced. So they use a process I call The Ship of Theseus to, piece by piece, turn that sentence into “slept with a journalist in exchange for a good review” and argue that each part of the sentence is technically accurate. It’s trying to lie without lying. And, provided all the pieces of this sentence are discussed separately, and only in the context of how they justify this sentence, you can trick yourself into believing this sentence is mostly true.

So, like, why? This is clearly motivated reasoning; what’s the motivation? What was this going to accomplish?

The answer is nothing. Nothing, by design. GamerGate’s “official” channels - the subreddit and the handful of forums that didn’t shut them down - were rigidly opposed to any action more organized than an email campaign. They had a tiny handful of tangible demands - they wanted gaming websites to post public ethics policies and had a list of people they wanted fired - but their larger aim was the sea change in how games journalism operated, which nothing they were asking for could possibly give them. The kind of anger that convinces you this is a true statement is not going to be addressed by a few paragraphs about ethics and Leigh Alexander getting a new job. They wanted gaming sites to stop catering to women and “SJWs” - who were a sizable and growing source of traffic - and to get out of the pockets of companies that advertised on their websites - which was their primary source of income. So all Kotaku had to do to make them happy was solve capitalism!

Meanwhile, the unofficial channels, like 8chan and Baphomet, were planning op after op to get private information, spread lies with fake accounts, get disinformation trending, make people quit jobs, cancel gigs, and flee their homes. Concrete goals with clear results. All you had to do to feel productive was go rogue. In my video,

How to Radicalize a Normie, I describe how the Alt-Right encourages lone wolf behavior by whipping people up into a rage and then refusing to give them anything to do, while surrounding them with examples of people taking matters into their own hands. The same mechanism is in play here: the public-facing channels don’t condone harassment but also refuse to fight it, the private channels commit it under cover of anonymity, and there is a free flow of traffic between them for when the official channels’ impotence becomes unbearable.

What I hope I’m illustrating is how these techniques play off of each other, how they create a closed ecosystem that rational thought cannot enter. There’s a phrase we use on the internet that got thrown around a lot at the time:

you can’t logic someone out of a position they didn’t logic themselves into.

Now, there are a few other big topics I think are relevant here, so I want to go through them one by one.

MEMEIFICATION

So a lot of interactions with GamerGate would involve a very insular knowledge base.

Like, you’d say something benign but progressive on Twitter.

A gater would show up in your mentions and say something aggressive and false.

You’d correct them. But then they’d come back and hit you with -

ah shit, sorry, this is a Loss meme.

If I were in front of a classroom I’d ask, show of hands, how many of you got that? I had to ask Twitter recently, does Gen Z know about Loss?!

If you don’t know what Loss is I’m not sure I can explain it to you. It’s this old, bad webcomic that was parodied so, so, so many times

that it was reduced to its barest essentials, to the point where any four panels with shapes in this arrangement is a Loss meme. For those of you in the know, you will recognize this anywhere, but have you ever tried to explain to someone who wasn’t in the know why this is really fuckin’ funny?

So, now… by the same process that this is a comics joke,

this is a rape joke.

I’m not gonna show the original image, but, once upon a time, someone made an animated GIF of the character Piccolo from Dragon Ball Z graphically raping Vegeta. 4chan loved it so much that it got posted daily, became known as the “daily dose,” until mods started deleting every incident of it. So they uploaded slightly edited version of it. Then they started uploading other images that had been edited with Piccolo’s color scheme. It got so abstracted that eventually any collection of purple and green pixels would be recognized as Piccolo Dick.

Apropos of nothing, GamerGate is a movement that insists it is not sexist in nature and it does not condone threats of rape against the women they don’t like. And this is their logo. This is their mascot.

If you’re familiar with the Daily Dose, the idea that GamerGate would never support Eron Gjoni if they believed he was a sexual abuser is so blatantly insincere it’s insulting… but imagine trying to explain to someone who’s not on 4chan how this sweater is a rape joke. Imagine having to explain it to a journalist. Imagine having to explain it to the judge enforcing your abuser’s restraining order.

Reactionaries use meme culture not just because they’re terminally online but also because it makes their behavior seem either benign or just confusing to outsiders. They find it hilarious that they can be really explicit and still fly under the radar. The Alt-Right did this with Pepe the Frog, the OK sign, even the milk glass emoji for a hot minute. The more inexplicable the meme, the better. You get the point where Stephen Miller is flashing Nazi signs from the White House and the Presidential re-eletion campaign is releasing 88 ads of exactly 14 words and there’s still a debate about whether the administration is racist. Because journalists aren’t going to get their heads around that. You tell them “1488 is a Nazi number,” it’s gonna seem a lot more plausible that you’re making shit up.

MOVE FAST AND BREAK THINGS

Online movements like GamerGate move at a speed and mutation rate too high for the mainstream world to keep up. And not just that they don’t understand the memes - they don’t understand the infrastructure.

In an attempt to cover GamerGate evenhandedly, George Wiedman of Super Bunnyhop interviewed a lawyer who specializes in journalistic ethics. He meant well; I really wish he hadn’t. You can see him trying to fit something like GamerGate into terms this silver-haired man who works in copyright law can understand. At one point he asks if it’s okay to fund the creative project of a potential journalistic source, to which the guy understandably says “no.”

What he’s alluding to here is the harassment of Jenn Frank. A few weeks into GamerGate, Jenn Frank writes a piece in The Guardian about sexism in tech that mentions Anita Sarkeesian and Zoe Quinn. In another case of “here’s a strongly-held belief I just decided I have,” GamerGate says this is a breach of journalistic ethics because Frank backs Quinn on Patreon. They harass her so intensely she not only has to quit her job at The Guardian, for several months she quits journalism entirely.

Off the bat, calling a public figure central to a major event in the field a “journalistic source” is flatly wrong-headed. Quinn was not interviewed or even contacted for the article, they were in no way a “source”; they were a subject. But I want to talk about this phrase, “fund a creative project.” Patreon is functionally a subscription; it’s a way of buying things. It’s technically accurate that Frank is funding Quinn’s creative project, but only in the sense that you are funding Bob Dylan’s creative project if you listen to his music. And saying Frank therefore can’t write about Quinn is like saying a music journalist can’t cover a Bob Dylan concert if they’ve ever bought his albums.

And we could talk about the ways that Patreon, as compared with other funding models, can create a greater sense of intimacy, and we also could comment that, well, that’s how an increasing number of people consume media now, so that perspective should be present in journalism. But maybe it means we should cover that perspective differently? I don’t know. It’s an interesting subject. But none of that’s going on in this conversation because this guy doesn’t know what Patreon is. It was only a year old at this point. Patreon’s been a primary source of my income for 5 years and my parents still don’t know what it is. (I think they think I’m a freelancer?) This guy hears “funding a creative project” and he’s thinking an investor, someone who makes a profit off the source’s success.

The language of straight society hasn’t caught up with what’s happening, and that works in GamerGate’s favor.

In the years since GamerGate we have dozens of stories of people trying to explain Twitter harassment to a legal system that’s never heard of Twitter. People trying to explain death threats to cops whose only relationship to the internet is checking email, confusedly asking, “Why don’t you just not go online?” Like, yeah, release your text game about depression at GameStop for the PS3 and get it reviewed in the Boston Globe, problem solved.

You see this in the slowness of mainstream journalists to condemn the harassment - hell, even games journalists at first. Because what if it is a legitimate movement? What if the harassers are just a fringe element? What if there was misconduct? The people in a position to stop GamerGate don’t have to be convinced of their legitimacy, they just have to hesitate. They just have to be unsure. Remember how much happened in just the first two weeks, how it took only a month to become unkillable.

It’s the same hesitance that makes mainstream media, online platforms, and law enforcement underestimate The Alt-Right. They’re terrified of condemning a group as white nationalist terrorists because they’re confused, and what if they’re wrong? Or, in most cases, not even afraid they’re wrong, but afraid of the PR disaster if too much of the world thinks they’re wrong.

ACCOUNTABILITY AND CONTROL

A thing I’ve talked about in The Alt-Right Playbook is how these decentralized, ostensibly leaderless movements insulate themselves from responsibility. Harassment is never the movement’s fault because they never told anyone to harass and you can’t prove the harassers are legitimate members of the movement. The Alt-Right does this too - one of their catchphrases is “I disavow.” Since there are no formalized rules for membership, they can redraw boundaries on the fly; they can take credit for any successes and deny responsibility for any wrongdoing. Public membership is granted or revoked based on a person’s moment-to-moment utility.

It’s almost like… they’re cherry-picking.

The flipside of this is a lack of control. Since they never officially tell anyone to do anything but write emails, they have no means of stopping anyone from behaving counterproductively. The harassment of Jenn Frank was the first time GamerGate’s originators thought, “maybe we should ease off just to avoid bad publicity,” and they found they couldn’t. GamerGate had gotten too big, and too many people were clearly there for precisely this reason.

They also couldn’t control the infighting. When your goal is to harass women and you have all these contradictory justifications for why, you end up with a lot of competing beliefs. And, you know what? Angry white men who like harassing people don’t form healthy relationships! Several prominent members of GamerGate - including Internet Aristocrat - got driven out by factionalism; they were doxxed by their own people! Jordan Owen and Davis Aurini parted ways hating each other, with Aurini releasing chatlogs of him gaslighting Owen about accepting an endorsement from Roosh, and they released two competing edits of The Sarkeesian Effect.

I say this because it’s useful to know that these are alliances of convenience. If you know where the sore spots are, you can apply pressure to them.

LEADERS WITHOUT LEADERSHIP

One way movements like GamerGate deflect responsibility is by declaring, “We are a leaderless movement! We have no means to stop harassment.”

Which… any anarchist will tell you collective action is entirely possible without leaders. But they’ll also tell you, absent a system of distributing power equitably, you’re gonna have leaders, just not ones you elected.

A few months into GamerGate, Randi Lee Harper created the ggautoblocker. Here’s what it did: it took five prominent GamerGate figures - Adam Baldwin, Mike Cernovich, Christina Hoff Sommers, Milo Yiannopoulos, and Nick Monroe, formerly known as [sigh] PressFartToContinue - and generated a block list of everyone who followed at least two of them on Twitter. Now, this became something of an arms race; once GamerGate found out about it they made secondary accounts that followed different people, and more and more prominent figures appeared and had to get added to the list. But, when it first launched, the list generated from just these five people comprised an estimated 90-95% of GamerGate.

Hate to break it to you, guys, but if 90+ percent of your movement is following at least two of the same five people, those are your leaders. The attention economy has produced them. Power pools when left on its own.

This is another case where you have to ignore what people claim and look at what they do. The Alt-Right loves to say “we disavow Richard Spencer” and “Andrew Anglin doesn’t speak for us.”

But no matter what they say, pay attention to whom they’re taking cues from.

AD CAMPAIGN

George Lakoff has observed that one way the Left fails in opposition to the Right is that most liberal politicians and campaigners have degrees in things like law and political science, where conservative campaigners more often have degrees in advertising and communications. Liberals and leftists may have a better product to sell, but conservatives know how to sell products.

GamerGate less resembles a boots-on-the-ground political movement than an ad campaign. First they decide what their messaging strategy is going to be. Then the media arm starts publicizing it. They seek out celebrity endorsements. They get their own hashtag and mascot. They donate to charity and literally call it “public relations.” You can even see the move from The Quinnspiracy to GamerGate as a rebranding effort - when one name got too closely associated with harassment, they started insisting GamerGate was an entirely separate movement from The Quinnspiracy. I learned that trick from Stringer Bell’s economics class.

Now, we could stand to learn a thing or two from this. But I also wouldn’t want us to adopt this strategy whole hog; you should view moves like these as red flags. If you’re hesitating to condemn a movement because what if it’s legitimate, take a look at whether they’re selling ideology like it’s Pepsi.

PERCEPTION IS EVERYTHING

One reason to insist you’re a consumer revolt rather than a harassment campaign is most people who want to harass need someone to give them permission, and need someone to tell them it’s normal.

Bob Altemeyer has this survey he uses to study authoritarianism. He divides respondents into people with low, average, and high authoritarian sentiments, and then tells them what the survey has measured and asks, “what score do you think is best to have: low, average, or high?”

People with low authoritarian sentiments say it’s best to be low. People with average authoritarian sentiments also say it’s best to be low. But people with high authoritarian sentiments? They say it’s best to be average. Altemeyer finds, across all his research, that reactionaries want to aggress, but only if it is socially acceptable. They want to know they are the in-group and be told who the out-group is. They don’t particularly care who the out-group is, Altemeyer finds they’ll aggress against any group an authority figure points to, even, if they don’t notice it, a group that contains them. They just have to believe the in-group is the norm.

This is why they have to believe games journalism is corrupt because of a handful of feminist media critics with outsized influence. Legitimate failures of journalism cannot be systemic problems rooted in how digital media is funded and consumed; there cannot be a legitimate market for social justice-y media. It has to be manipulation by the few. Because, if these things are common, then, even if you don’t like them, they’re normal. They’re part of the in-group. Reactionary politics is rebellion against things they dislike getting normalized, because they know, if they are normalized, they will have to accept them. Because the thing they care about most is being normal.

This is why the echo chamber, this is why Fox News, this is why the Far Right insists they are the “silent majority.” This is why they artificially inflate their numbers. This is why they insist facts are “biased.” They have to maintain the image that what are, in material terms, fringe beliefs are, in fact, held by the majority. This is why getting mocked by Stephen Colbert was such a blow to GamerGate. It makes it harder to believe the world at large agrees with them.

This is why, if you’re trying to change the world for the better, it’s pointless to ask their permission. Because, if you change the world around them, they will adapt even faster than you will.

THE ARGUMENT ISN’T SUPPOSED TO END

Casey Explosion has this really great Twitter thread comparing the Alt-Right to Scary Terry from Rick and Morty. His catchphrase is “you can run but you can’t hide, bitch.” And Rick and Morty finally escape him by hiding. And Morty’s all, “but he said we can’t hide,” and Rick is like, “why are we taking his word on this? if we could hide, he certainly wouldn’t tell us.”

The reason to argue with a GamerGater is on the implied agreement that, if you can convince them they’re part of a hate mob, they will leave. But look at the incentives here: they want to be in GamerGate, and you want them not to be. But they’re already in GamerGate. They’re not waiting on the outcome of this argument to participate. They’ve already got what they want; they don’t need to convince you GamerGate isn’t a hate mob.

This is why all their logic and rationalizations are shit, because they don’t need to be good. They’re not trying to win an argument. They’re trying to keep the argument going.

This has been a precept of conservative political strategy for decades. “You haven’t convinced us climate change is real and man-made, you need to do more studies.” They’re not pausing the use of fossil fuels until the results come in. “You haven’t convinced us there are no WMDs in Iraq, you need to collect more evidence.” They’re not suspending the war until you get back to them. “You haven’t convinced us that Reaganomic tax policy causes recessions, let’s just do it for another forty years and see what happens.” And when the proof comes in, they send us out for more, and we keep going.

The biggest indicator you can’t win a debate with a reactionary is they keep telling you you can. The biggest indicator protest and deplatforming works is they keep telling you in plays into their hands. The biggest indicator that you shouldn’t compromise with Republicans is they keep saying doing otherwise is stooping to their level. They’re not going to walk into the room and say, “Hi, my one weakness is reasoned argument, let’s pick a time and place to hash this out.”

And we fall for it because we’re trying to be decent people. Because we want to believe the truth always wins. We want to bargain in good faith, and they are weaponizing our good faith against us. Always dangling the carrot that the reason they’re like this is no one’s given them the right argument not to be. It’s all just a misunderstanding, and, really, it’s on us for not trying hard enough.

But they have no motivation to agree with us. Most of the people asking for debates have staked their careers on disagreeing with us. Conceding any point to the Left could cost them their livelihood.

WHY GAMES?

Let’s close with the big question: why games? And, honestly, the short answer is:

why not games?

Games culture has always presented itself as a hobby for young, white, middle class boys. It’s always been bigger and more diverse than that, but that’s how it was marketed, and that’s who most felt they belonged. As gaming grows bigger, there is suddenly room for those marginal voices that have always been there to make themselves heard. And, as gaming becomes more mainstream, it’s having its first brushes with serious critical analysis.

This makes the people who have long felt gaming was theirs and theirs alone anxious and a little angry. They’ve invested a lot of their identity in it and they don’t want it to change.

And what the Far Right sees in a sizable collection of aggrieved young men is an untapped market. This is why sites like Stormfront and Breitbart flocked to them. These are not liberals they have to convert, these people are, up til now, not politically engaged. The Right can be their first entry to politics.

The world was changing. Nerd properties were exploding into popular culture in tandem with media representation diversifying. And we were living with the first Black President. Any time an out-group looks like it might join the in-group, there is a self-protective backlash from the existing in-group. This had been brewing for a while, and, honestly, if it hadn’t boiled over in games, it would have boiled over somewhere else.

And, in the years since GamerGate, it has. The Far Right has tapped the comics, Star Wars, and sci-fi fandoms; they tried to get in with the furry community but failed spectacularly. They’re all over YouTube and, frankly, the atheist community was already in their pocket. Basically, if you’re in community with a bunch of young white guys who think they own the place, you might wanna have some talks with them sooner than later.

Anyway, if you want to know more about any of this stuff, RationalWiki’s timeline on GamerGate is pretty thorough. You can also watch my or Dan Olson’s videos on the subject. I’ll be putting the audio of this talk on YouTube and will put as many resources as I can in the show notes. The channel, again, is Innuendo Studios.

Sorry this was such a bummer.

Thank you for your time.

#video essay #alt-right playbook #Youtube

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anguigenus · 3 years

Text

Gus, His Magic, And the Coven System: Analysis on Through the Looking Glass Ruins

The latest episode's Gus plot focused on the relationship between Gus and his magic, and I have a lot of thoughts on it. So, I'm going to try and lay them out here.

First, the overall "lesson" of the episode.

I think I'm safe in saying that, on the surface, the main takeaway from this episode was "Illusion magic is actually powerful and Gus is justified in focusing on it."

[obligatory picture of the statues leaking blood illusion that Gus conjured up]

But really, that's not what I got from it, and that's because of the statue scene. In it, Gus created an incredibly impressive illusion to scare Bria away, and it worked! But not on its own. See, she was expecting an illusion, so she suspected the whole scene wasn't real. But then a statue grabbed her leg. That was what convinced her.

Let me say that a different way: Gus' illusions on their own were not enough to convince her to leave.

And that is what this post is about. If the point of this scene was to prove that Gus was perfectly fine with illusions on their own, it failed, since he couldn’t succeed with just his illusions. However, I think the actual point of the scene was more nuanced.

I believe this scene is foreshadowing Gus multi-tracking in magic to grow stronger.

Before I explain why, let me clarify something. I think illusion magic is incredibly powerful. We all saw that scene, after all. It lets the caster manipulate at least two of a person’s main senses: hearing and sight! That's a huge advantage, so it's no wonder that — as this episode demonstrated — it has such huge drawbacks. Namely, the illusions are very fragile.

Luckily for Gus, this episode also showed how to get around those drawbacks. If you get creative and supplement the illusions with something else — say, a solid hand — you can make them infinitely more potent.

And that's where the multi-tracking comes in. Gus isn't always going to be able to make himself part of his illusions. However, if he has magic that can help, his capabilities skyrocket.

There isn't even one specific type of magic that would help! Construction magic seems obvious since you could create physical components to the illusions, but plant magic would have much the same effect.

Add to that the fact that illusion magic appears to have the ability to power up other spells, and now any track would give him a power boost.

(This effect can be seen in this scene from The First Day where he gives Willow's plant muscly arms:)

(And in TtLGR where he creates a huge fireball using an illusion spell and a fire glyph:)

So why doesn't he just pick up a few spells besides illusions and give himself a boost? Why does he worry so much about "choosing the right track" when his problem could be so easily solved?

The answer is the coven system. As we hear from Bump, the motto of the coven system is to "Hocus Focus." He doesn't pick up a few handy spells because the entire system, the entire culture, has ingrained in him that studying more than one track is unacceptable. It’s likely that if the idea of multitracking had occurred to him, he dismissed it out of hand!

And this is where Gus really helps to showcase the shortcomings of the coven system. He's seemingly a perfect fit for it: he's a prodigy in his track and can use the magic to its fullest potential.

Yet still he’s getting hurt by it. And why? Because confining someone to a single track means that track becomes part of their identity. Therefore if someone insults or criticizes your coven, it's a criticism against you. If your coven has a weakness, you have a weakness.

And that's why it's such a genius system for Belos; it's simple divide and conquer. Everyone is split up into different factions, each with their own simple roles. And since all the pressure is on which one to choose, no one realizes that it doesn’t actually matter. Whichever track they pick, they’re still being trapped in a system designed to separate and weaken them; a system designed to keep Belos in power.

That is why wild magic and mixing magic are so powerful! They allow someone to tailor their magic to themselves; to make the tool fit the identity instead of the other way around! It lets them cover their weaknesses with what they learn, instead of inheriting weaknesses!

So by disallowing that, Belos makes people conform their identity to his system, weakening them and cementing his power over them in one fell swoop.

[Shoutout to @preciseprose for helping to edit this!]

#I said I had thoughts about this episode and I *meant* it #I've still got at least two more meta posts rattling around my head but this was the Big One #anyways Gus is an incredible witch and deserves the world #and I really want to see him willow and amity breaking away from the coven system this season #toh meta #toh theory #gus porter #the owl house #de anguigeno #toh spoilers #toh s2 #toh s2 ep5 #through the looking glass ruins

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aliensunflower-fics · 4 years

Text

The Interview

[ Did I seriously take time away from writing requests and part twos of things JUST to write a fic where Marinette Flambé‘s Gabriel until he’s nothing but a dirty little lump of coal? Yes. Yes I did. Enjoy! ]

Gabriel Agreste would call himself a practical man. He had never been one for frivolous things. And he believed this was a good thing. His straight and to the point nature meant no gift would go unused, no conversation would drag on, his time would never be wasted. And his designs reflected this practical and sharp point of view. Or so he believed.

Gabriel Agreste would also call himself a realist. He knew full well he was the villain, and he knew full well the damage he had done and was doing. But it did not bother him, he was selfish and sentimental at least concerning his wife. And he wanted it all. The wife, the business, the perfect son, the house. All of it.

And that was why Gabriel Agreste wanted Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She was brilliant, creative, determined, and quick on her feet. Each time he'd been near her he could feel the power she radiated her flurry of untapped potential and raw emotion swirling like a tumultuous ocean. Yes, Gabriel needed Marinette to become his most awe-inspiring destructive, and terrifying Akuma, the one who would finally level Paris and rip the Miraculous off of those pesky heroes once and for all! And who knows, if she succeeded perhaps Gabriel would give her the privilege of being his apprentice in his new perfect world. Her designs had been pretty good and he was nothing if not practical.

There was of course one, tinsy tiny problem however with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And that was to put it simply that she was perhaps TOO brilliant, creative, determined, and quick on her feet. Every time he thought he finally had her something would go wrong! First, it was that useless excuse for a ‘teacher’ getting in the way, then Mayura failed him! Then Marinette had seemingly caught on and adapted! Bullied? Nope, she thought positive thoughts and spent time with friends. Property destroyed? She’d fix it and make it nicer than before! Lied about? She'd clear her name by the end of the day! Stolen from? She’d always find a fix! Each and every attempt was simply a hurdle the girl overcame!

Even Lila and Adrien had failed him! The sausage headed brat had been trying to crack Marinette near religiously but she had yet to produce real results, if she framed the girl some proof would appear to clear her, if she bullied the girl Marinette would simply walk away to calm down, physical assault had not even been enough to break her. And Adrien… Well, he had no idea that his father was trying to manipulate him so his failures were at least forgivable but even then nothing he did worked. He’d tried several times to produce a jealousy akuma out of Marinette pairing his own son off with Kagami and occasionally even letting the Italian leech hang off his son but Marinette never budged, it wasn’t that she wasn’t jealous or even angry it was just that she cared too much for other people, with Kagami the baker girl had backed off and even aided out in their budding relationship her feelings of kindness and friendship out shadowing her jealousy. And with Lila? Well, Marinette was more concerned with Adrien’s emotional and physical well-being, and after seeing what the liar’s fake nails had done to his son's arms Gabriel could understand why. As a last resort, Gabriel had tried forbidding Adrien from ever seeing the girl again hoping that would do it, but not even 5 minutes later he had undone the command when Adrien threatened to quit modeling and blast his father on social media… Needless to say, Gabriel wasn’t sure where his son had gotten the backbone for such a move but he felt like blaming Marinette for that as well.

Yes. Gabriel Agreste had tried everything to akumatize Marinette Dupain-Cheng and nothing had worked. Now at 17, the girl was still going strong showing no cracks in her armor. Well… He had tried ALMOST everything. There was one thing, one last little thing he had yet to try… And that was ruining the young girl's dream. Now Gabriel did not truly wish to squash such talent, but of course, he didn’t really NEED to. Yes, it was perfect. He would invite the youngest Dupain-Cheng into his home for an interview with a prospective internship on the line. He would warm her up by poking and prodding at her design portfolio, then he would accuse her of stealing the designs from Lila Rossi, and finally, he would claim to be blacklisting her entirely from the very world of fashion! No doubt THAT the very destruction of her dreams would finally produce the Akuma he needed to secure victory. If she succeeded he would favor her in his new perfect world as a reward, and if she failed… Well then he could claim he had ‘seen the truth’ while she was akumatized and undo the damage, there was no sense in actually ruining the girls promising career after all.

With his plan set Gabriel ordered Nathalie to make the arrangements. Come Saturday afternoon Marinette Dupain-Cheng would finally be akumatized.

However, Gabriel was hit with his first surprise, or perhaps his first ‘warning’ when Nathalie entered his office to inform him that Saturday was NOT on the table. In a shocking and rare turn, Marinette had somehow negotiated Nathalie to schedule the interview for Friday instead. Forcing the assistant to re-organize Gabriel’s entire schedule. When Gabriel had asked why this had happened Nathalie had seemed unlike herself, flustered and unsure, apparently Marinette had been very firm about having very important Saturday plans she would not even consider changing and had stated simply and sharply that her only free time would be Friday this week or Gabriel would need to wait another two weeks for her next availability. Hearing that was a shock, Gabriel had NEVER once needed to reschedule himself for others! No! They rescheduled for HIM. But fine, perhaps the sentimental girl had some idiotic family get together she felt she could not say no to it didn’t really matter in fact Friday meant he’d get his Akuma an entire day earlier. Fine then, Friday it was.

The second surprise had come Friday itself. When Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng arrived perfectly on time. Gabriel was the one caught with his pants down as he had expected the girl to be late with what Adrien had told him of the girl's tardiness record. He and Nathalie were left scrambling to get the office in order while Marinette sat in the hall. Gabriel would review the security footage later and note that the young designer did not gawk or stare at his opulent manor but rather eyed everything critically and with an air of absolute boredom as if she had a million other things she would rather be doing. Had Gabriel seen this expression on the young woman's face beforehand he might have noted it as his second warning that things were not going to go as he expected them to.

Finally, the office looked impeccable and Nathalie invited the young woman in. Gabriel stood behind his desk, his face an emotionless mask but his mind reaching out using the magic granted to him by Nooroo to feel for the young woman's emotions so he could better guide this in the way he desired. However when the young woman entered he was not overcome by the tsunami of nerves and emotions he expected rather it was like an ice front had hit his office. Gabriel was shocked, he could not for the life of him read the girl she was a perfect wall of flawless gleaming ice with no cracks for him to exploit, even her eyes which he had seen in photos and through his Akuma's vision were not what he expected. In every picture, Adrien had tried to show him the young woman's eyes were warm and sweet but now those bluebell orbs had frosted over regarding him with a sharp and pointed stare as if she could read his thoughts. As the two exchanged pleasantries and shook hands Gabriel waited for her to situate herself before he did the same taking a second to share a brief glance with Nathalie who seemed just as confused and put off by the young woman's behavior as he was.

Feeling nervous Gabriel decided to open with some small talk hoping to find a crack that would allow him to feel the young woman's emotions so he politely asked a question about how she'd been. She responded curtly and politely that she was fine but busy, he asked about her parents and their business, she cooly responded that they were opening a second location, finally, he complimented her outfit asking if she designed it herself. He expected to feel SOMETHING from the girl exhilaration at being complimented by someone she admired, nervous about him pointing it out, anything! Instead, the wall of ice remained cool and shimmering as ever as she told him that she had indeed designed the outfit herself and that she was pleased it met his standards. And it did, she wore silky black palazzo pants that flowed gently at the bottom but was clearly tailored to her exact centimeter around her hips, her top had some clear Asian inspirations with a modern twist, it was flawlessly fitted but seemed comfortable and easy to move in. It was white with pink and gold hand painted sakura flowers and some embroidery detailing that were certainly done by hand, to match she had pink lips and pristine white heels, her hair was down but perfectly in place, she was the very image of a professional confidant woman all at the young age of 17.

They chatted a while longer with Gabriel asking her about her design process and if she’d painted on the details of her shirt but still there was no crack in the ice keeping her emotions from Gabriel’s prying mind. The only emotion he could read from the girl was in her body language and it was clear she was losing her patience as Gabriel avoided the reason she was here. Clearing his throat awkwardly and sparing another quick glance at Nathalie who looked just as lost as himself. He finally settled in his chair and they began.

It was a rather standard interview at first, as Gabriel did not want to play his cards too quickly and was hoping that if he was patient the ice guarding the woman's emotions would thaw. He asked to see her sketches while they spoke and she easily handed over a professional-looking sketchbook, as he flipped through it he would occasionally pause to ask questions about her design process or inspiration, they were lovely sketches and truthfully Gabriel was hard-pressed to find anything wrong with them, but for the sake of his plan, he acted unimpressed and even critical of her designs. If it bothered her, she made no show of it much to Gabriel’s annoyance. He began to press harder, asking her if she could truly handle an internship under someone of his caliber, then he asked what her grades were, how he could trust her around his son as he’d heard some unsavory rumors about her character from a trustworthy employee. If anything he said bothered her, she never let it show her face a cool mask of professional disinterest. Gabriel tried not to grind his teeth, this was NOT going as he planned, as he prepared to accuse her of stealing Lila’s designs the young designer held up her hand to silence him.

“Monsieur Agreste, you have been asking a lot of questions. May I ask one of my own?”

Her voice was calm but Gabriel could hear the tiniest bit of ice in her tone. Perhaps his prodding was working after all. Either way, he nodded for her to continue, she straightened just the littlest bit before settling Gabriel with an icy look.

“I would like to know why you believe YOU are qualified to be my mentor.”

Gabriel blinked once. Then twice. He was quite sure his mouth was open in shock. He glanced again at Nathalie; his assistant seemed to be mirroring his own feelings and expressions. Finally, he swallowed and his mouth felt dry.

“Pardon me?” The girl in front of him blinked at him as if he were a rather idiotic child.

“I asked: WHY do you think you're qualified to mentor me. Monsieur Agreste.” Her voice was pure ice now and he suppressed a shiver.

He sat up straighter leveling the girl with an icy look of his own trying not to let his shock show.

“And what makes you think it is acceptable to ask me such a question Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

“Well… This is an interview is it not? Did you think I would simply agree to work for you without checking if you are up to my standards?”

Gabriel suppressed a strangled sound of insult as the red hot feeling of anger rose within him as he absorbed the young woman's words. But even still he could not suppress all of it.

“I beg your pardon!” She gave him a critical look but altogether a bored one.

“I do not mean to offend, Monsieur Agreste. But you are not the first to offer me an internship, currently, I have about 5 different offers on my table, the most notable being with the Style Queen herself and La Mode’s head designer Edna. I want to make an… Educated decision. And frankly, the only reason I am here today is as a favor to your son Adrien, who asked me to give you a chance. So again I will ask, what makes YOU Gabriel Agreste more qualified to mentor me, than Audrey Bourgeois or Edna Mode?”

Gabriel was left feeling very much like he had been caught with his pants down. Marinette Dupain-Cheng already had other offers? And with the top jewels of the fashion world's crown?! How? When!? Surely if Miss Dupain-Cheng had made any significant leaps in the world of fashion he and Nathalie would know about it… Right? I mean, true he had taken a step back from the world in his pursuit of the Miraculous and perhaps he had not been as involved in his own business lately. But he had both Lila and Nathalie on the outside yet they had said nothing about the young girl and her fashion career. Frantically searching for something to say to get the interview back on track and heading the way he wanted Gabriel’s eyes landed on the colorful designer bag Marinette had with her. He had noticed it seemed tailor-made to go with her outfit now taking a closer look at it he noticed the subtle detail of ‘MDC’ in golden lettering. No… No, he could not have missed it. Nathalie could not have missed it! MDC was known as Jagged Stone’s and Clara Nightingale's personal designer the mysterious presence had been a thorn in Gabriel’s side snatching his more famous clientele. But now it was clear. MDC was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl he’d been planning to threaten with a fashion world blacklist and accusations of falsifying her designs was his up and coming competitor. Gabriel swallowed thickly trying to think of how he could spin this situation in his favor now. Nathalie who was unaware that MDC was sitting in front of him could offer no help.

“Well, Miss Dupain-Cheng as I'm sure you are aware, I was once very much in the same situation as yourself, I built my own company from the ground up after I was done training with my own mentor. I could show you how a successful business is built up and run. And I could help you polish your designs.”

The girl nodded thoughtfully and pulled out a small notebook and pen scribbling down something he could not see. Gabriel ignored Nathalie’s looks of confusion and his own growing anger. This was not how he wanted things to go but knowing what he now knew he needed to play his cards carefully, perhaps he could get the girl to intern under him then wear her down until she became possible to akumatize? Yes, that might work! Marinette cleared her throat and Gabriel focused on her again.

“So you could give me an excellent perspective on building my own business and running it… I assume this means you have a plan to get your own business back from the brink of failure then?”

Gabriel choked. His eyes near bulging out of his head as his mind fought to comprehend what had just been said. Marinette for her part simply arched a well-maintained eyebrow in response.

“I do apologize if that was direct. It's just… Well looking at your sales numbers in recent seasons shows a continuing decline in sales, not to mention the number of celebrities seen wearing Gabriel originals has dropped significantly. I will not be interning on a sinking ship Monsieur Agreste surely you understand?”

A quick glance to Nathalie gave him a nod of confirmation that the young woman's words were true. He hadn’t even noticed…

“Of course I have a plan to increase sales. I have been taking a… Creative break. So to speak in order to properly mourn my wife and come up with fresh new ideas.”

It was a bald-faced lie that had crawled its way out of his throat and through his teeth. But it seemed to satisfy the young designer who scribbled a few more notes down before again returning her icy gaze to his face.

“I assume this plan also involves cleaning up the rampant abuse your company is known for then?”

“EXCUSE ME?!” It was Nathalie that time, her face pale and her eyes wide though Gabriel very much agreed with the sentiment.

“Oh? Your secretary was unaware? Hm.” The designer jotted something down continuing to speak as she wrote. “It’s well known in the world of fashion, you have mass turn over in your employee’s they complain that you don't take accusations of sexual assault seriously, that your harsh and overly demanding on your employee’s, that you foster an environment in which abusers and bullies can easily get their way. And that's not even touching on the rumors surrounding the pedophilia, sex scandals, and your abusive behavior toward your own son.”

At those words, Gabriel could take no more his chair let out a screech as he leaped up and slammed his hand down on his desk the loud bang ringing out through the room. To her credit, Marinette did not jump or flinch at the sudden noise. Nathalie however, did.

“That is quite enough Miss Dupain-Cheng! I will not have you coming into my home leveling such blatant and false accusations about my business and personal life!”

The young designer's eyes became impossibly icier and she stood calmly flipping her little notepad closed as she leveled Gabriel with a glare that sent ice into his spine and made him swallow. He swore the room temperature somehow went below zero yet he felt the need to remove his jacket, his body feeling impossibly hot and sweaty.

“In that case. I think I've seen everything I need to make my decision. Do not contact me again Monsieur Agreste I have no interest in maintaining any business relations with a man of your… Type.”

Her words were pure venom yet still he felt no anger coming from her, and now she was trying to leave all at once Gabriel found reality slapping him in the face. His Akuma, his glorious Akuma the one that would lead to his victory he NEEDED it. Nathalie as if reading his mind stepped in front of the door, blocking the young woman's path, Gabriel took a calming breath and fixed his tie. He needed to refocus on the task at hand, he had let the girl get to him but no more he would get the upper hand he WOULD get his Akuma.

“I am afraid we are not done here yet Miss Dupain-Cheng. You see we still have yet to discuss the REAL reason I called you here today.” He didn’t miss a beat, didn't give the girl time to interject. “You see one of my models. A Miss Lila Rossi, claims that you have stolen her designs from her. And having looked at your sketchbook I can now confirm her suspicions. I do wonder what your other potential mentors would think of you being a thief.”

It was a risky lie. Well… Not completely. Lila Rossi had tried to claim Marinette’s work as her own a few times before. Obviously Gabriel never believed the girl, but right now the Italians lie’s were ones he was willing to overlook if it got him what he wanted. And he was sure it was, as finally, the snappy icy Miss Dupain-Cheng was frozen, her expression hidden by her hair but her stiff body was trembling ever so slightly. Finally, Gabriel was back in control.

The girl's body trembled more and more and Gabriel briefly wondered if she was crying or shaking with rage but then he heard it... She was making an odd sound that was growing louder until Gabriel realized what it was… Marinette was laughing. It wasn’t a normal sort of laugh, rather it was a hollow dark sound the type of laugh that belonged to villains in cartoons the type of laugh that sent dread into a person's body, and all at once, the victorious smirk on Nathalie and Gabriel’s faces dropped as Marinette laughed louder and harder. When she finished she wiped tears from her eyes before she settled her icy glare back onto Gabriel a sinister smirk playing on her lips.

“Can I get that in writing Monsieur Agreste?” If she sounded venomous before she sounded downright deadly now. But Gabriel held himself tall and firm.

“This is not a joke Miss Dupain-Cheng. I will not tolerate you stealing from my company.”

“Oh, I am being serious Monsieur Agreste. Do you think this is the first time Rossi has tried to play this game with me?” She scoffed. “Please. I have grown used to her childish ways. Last time I sent my lawyer with a cease and desist order to her house. But if you believe your little ‘muse’ so much then it seems I will need to hit her a little harder to make my message crystal clear. I don’t have much tolerance for liars, Monsieur Agreste least of all little gold-digging ones.”

“M-My muse?” Gabriel suddenly felt a part of his stomach drop. Something about what was just said was clearly very wrong.

“Yes. Your ‘muse’ that's what Lila has been calling herself since she began working for you two years ago. Where do you think the rumors of pedophilia came from Monsieur Agreste?” He choked, but she only hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should be more careful who you hire. Especially considering how she sexually assaults your son. But you already knew about THAT and didn’t fire her. So perhaps she really IS your ‘muse’ then.”

Gabriel could hear the unspoken threat in her words daring him to push the issue and face her wrath and knew he was now playing a very dangerous game. He had known that Lila enjoyed hanging off his son and he had told her off about the wounds she left with her nails and that had stopped, but even after that Adrien had tried to speak with him a few times about Lila but he’d ignored it she was too useful as an ally, but now she may have ended up being his Trojan horse. And if the gleam in Marinette’s eyes and the dangerous smile on her lips was anything to go by the young designer knew it. Nathalie was looking paler the longer this went on. Gabriel knew he needed to save himself now, Akuma be damned he’d be useless to his wife if he lost everything before managing to bring her back.

He cleared his throat. “Now… Perhaps I have been a bit... Hasty? In my accusation of you Miss Dupain-Cheng. I was unaware of Miss Rossi’s dubious nature and words. Or her actions toward my son, perhaps you would consid-”

“How DARE you!” All at once, he was hit with the raw force of Marinette’s emotions, her hot boiling anger overcoming him and knocking out his breath. But just as swift as it came the wall of ice consumed them sealing it away once more. “You have a lot of nerve pretending you knew nothing, Monsieur Agreste. When I know for a fact your son and several of your employees have come to you begging and pleading to be listened to. So either you are lying to my face or you really are just that much of a pathetic excuse for a ‘father’.”

He sputtered trying to defend himself, even Nathalie could no longer stand by stepping forward to try and help his defense.

“Oh please. You are a JOKE, Monsieur Agreste. As Adrien’s close friend I know very well the kind of father- no the kind of MAN you are. You are a cold, abusive, manipulative, worm. You ignore your son, neglect him, and treat him as no more than a mannequin for your clothes. The only reason your business hasn’t gone under yet is because you whore your own son out banking on his popularity to keep yourself afloat.”

Gabriel felt anger and a rare sense of shame rush him all at once as he desperately choked out a reply determined to defend himself. Nathalie stepped forward readying herself to help him but he managed to get out his reply before she needed to offer her help.

“I-I am doing no such thing! I love my son and would never allow any harm to come to him!”

Marinette seemed completely unconvinced. Humming thoughtfully she tilted her head to the side locking Gabriel in her cold gaze.

“In that case perhaps you could tell me what you got him for his last birthday? Here’s a hint he didn’t even get a cake or a happy birthday from you.”

Gabriel stuttered stunned that he was being challenged in such a way he glanced to Nathalie looking to her for help but Marinette stepped in the way blocking his view.

“No? Too hard for you? Then perhaps you could tell me when you last had dinner with him?” Nothing. “Hm. Ok, what about when you last spoke with him about something besides his classes, his job, or his extracurriculars?” Nothing. “Oh, then what's your son's favorite food? Or color? What does he want to do when he’s finally 18 and free from you? Does he want to go to college? Does he even LIKE wearing your tacky awful clothing?” Silence. “Nothing huh… Here il go real easy on you. When was the last time you gave your son a hug?” Gabriel stuttered but he was at a loss for words. He didn’t know. “The last hug YOU gave him was several years ago. When I won your bowler hat competition. You haven’t even touched your own son in years, yet you have the nerve to claim you love him? That you seek to protect him? That you would NEVER have let Lila Rossi molest him near constantly had you simply ‘known’ about it.” She crossed her arms. “I am. Unconvinced. Monsieur Agreste.”

Each word was a pointed blade aiming for Gabriel, cutting him down smaller and smaller until he felt like an insect under the young girl's gaze. Yet she offered him no mercy only staring him down as if he were the scum of the earth. And right now, he felt like he very well might be. Nathalie who had been at the ready finally stepped in leveling Marinette with an icy glare of her own, though compared to the designers it was more lukewarm than anything.

“Monsieur Agreste is a very busy businessman, who has been mourning the loss of his wife!”

Marinette scoffed her icy blue eyes roaming up and down his assistant while her face morphed into a look of disgust.

“Of course YOU would defend him Miss Sancoeur. After all, you are complicit in Adrien’s abuse. Feeding him the equivalent of table scraps so he can stay the perfect malnourished model that you both need to fill your bank accounts with cash. And that is not even broaching on the fact that Adrien is quite sure you share his father's bed when you think he's not looking. After all POOR Monsieur Agreste needs some kind of warmth to ‘mourn’ his wife with while he leaves his son to become more and more emotionally damaged.”

It was Nathalie’s turn to be left a gaping, her face impossibly red with shame at the blatant accusation. In fact, neither Nathalie nor Gabriel knew how to defend themselves now. This was so far from how they had foreseen this interview going that they had nothing left with which to defend themselves with. Marinette Dupain-Cheng however seemed far from finished in fact she seemed like she was just getting warmed up.

“Listen Monsieur Agreste, I once admired your work but I now have no choice but to agree with Madame Bourgeois, you have let the death of your wife sour you into a rotten waste of a man, your designs are lackluster, cold and only look good on mannequins, your business is failing, your employees hate you, your neglectful and abusive of the only family you have left, and your stupid enough to have threatened my future career on the lies of a gold digger. I came here today only because I am a close friend of your son who begged me to give you a chance in the hopes I could help salvage your failing company. But I cannot, and I will not work with a man who is as selfish and repulsive as you.”

Checking her watch Marinette let out an annoyed hum clearly she was not pleased with how long this interview had taken. Sidestepping Nathalie who was still struggling to find the words to defend herself. She made her way to the door pausing once her hand was on the handle.

“Oh and Monsieur Agreste. If you're still determined to call yourself a fashion designer… Then the least you could do is stop dressing yourself like a candy cane themed board game mascot, found at a cheap dollar store. It’s an insult to fashion, and I’d even go so far to say that Hawkmoth has made nicer looking Akuma’s and those look like discount cartoon villains from the ’80s. Now do have a good rest of your day. And look out for my lawyers, they will be coming around sometime soon.”

And with that, she was gone. Leaving Gabriel to slump into his seat and hold his head, while Nathalie shakily took the seat across from him that Marinette had just occupied. The secretary was heavily reconsidering her life choices, perhaps her sister had been right when she said Nathalie needed a nice long vacation away somewhere sunny and warm and far from Gabriel to re-evaluate her priorities.

Gabriel however was re-evaluating his life in a much different way as everything that the young woman threw at him sunk into his head. He believed himself a practical man yet Marinette Dupain-Cheng had utterly disassembled his plan, his life, and his actions leaving him feeling like a schoolyard bully who’d just been put in time out by the teacher. He believed himself a realist, yet Marinette Dupain-Cheng had been the one to rip the wool from his eyes and force him to face the ugly reality that he ignored, his business was collapsing, his employees were either jumping ship or were utterly convinced they could get away with blatant abuse, his wife had been comatose for years, his son quite possibly hated him and when he graduated would take his leave destroying the only thing that left his business a fighting chance, and to top it all off he was wearing RED PANTS.

Leaning back in his chair he stared at his ceiling in a hazy state of fleeting thoughts. All he could think was that it has been one hell of an interview.

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#my fic #ml salt #lila salt #gabriel agreste salt #nathalie sancoeur salt #adrien agreste #adrien agreste sugar #protective marinette #bamf marinette #adrien deserves better #ice queen marinette #marinette dupain cheng #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #fic rec

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linkspooky · 3 years

Text

Tall Buildings Falling Down

It’s especially important that Uraraka was the one to hear this, a hero overhwhelemd by the demands of saving people, deciding to just give up and quit his job. Important because, out of all the characters in class 1-A Uraraka is unique for two reasons. One, Uraraka is perhaps the only student in her class who admitted she’s in the hero business for the money, she joined because it’s a lucrative job.

Second, despite the fact that Uraraka only wanted to become a hero for the money, she idolizes heroes just as much as the rest of her class does. This has led Uraraka to question herself as times, because she doesn’t believe her motivations for being a hero are as good as the rest of her classmates.

Uraraka is also attached to the overly idealized image of heroes that was sold to the rest of her classmates, that heroes always save people, that heroes are righteous, heroes are good and everything that gets in the way of heroes is bad. Heroes are here to protect us, heroes make people happy. Uraraka carries this overly idealized image of heroes inside of her.

However, ideals always fall short of the reality. When Uraraka saw Deku struggling with all of his might, that’s when the first cracks began to appear. Because Deku, he was hurting himself even as they fight Chiaki.

Who protects the heroes when they need protecting? I think Uraraka means this especially in regards to Deku. Being a hero is hurting Deku. Deku pushes himself to such an extent that he breaks his body over and over again. Being a hero is supposed to be a good thing, but under the current system even being a hero causes Deku to suffer because it requires so much out of him, he must continually break his body again and again in order to keep up with the others. All Deku thinks of is saving others, he’s more heroic than most, and yet, the current system isn’t designed to stop this behavior. More than anything else it’s focused on strength, on Deku learning to strengthen his quirk, not learning how to take care of himself. The system values powers over people, but Uraraka is so empathic she sees Deku as a person and notices that he’s suffering because of it. All Deku wants is to be a hero, but what is a hero under the current system? Someone strong enough to win and beat all the bad guys.

It’s clear that in hero society, heroes are valued much more for winning, rather than saving. When saving is what is needed especially in this chapter. Uraraka sees someone who became a hero for all the wrong reasons, just giving up and quitting. In the same chapter where Uraraka’s thoughts are literally just, there must be more people, there must be more people I can save, just over and over again.

Uraraka herself has become more and more selfless, as she’s progressed as a character, more focused on saving people especially after watching Deku push himself to such extremes in the name of saving others. However, that’s not necessarily true for the adults around her. Uraraka who began all of this by just seeing heroics as a job, sees an adult who just treats it like a job too, giving up.

As buildings are falling down all around her, Uraraka’s idea of heroes begin to fall too. To be fair, no one person could ever deal with a disaster of this magnitude all on their own. Society’s expectations of heroes were too high in the first place, no one can be perfectly selfless all the time, the perfect savior that saved everyone that all might tried to create was never going to save everyone. However, at the same time heroes get away with a lot, because people uncritically see heroes as “good” no matter what they do, to the point where the kids rejected any and all criticism of the heroes around them. However, in this chapter after fighting with everything they had to defend those same heroes, they meet the disappointing reality.

The same adults who brought Kaminari Denki to the battelfield when he wasn’t ready, because they weren’t strong enough to fight the evil on their own, who insisted that they needed to fight the villains in this surprise ambush and start with war.

The same adults that told them everything would be alright, that the heroes would always win, that they would go home and go back to school after all of this are now lying dead in the ruins of the cities they failed to save.

ANd, what are we meant to take from this? Heroes can’t save everyone, that’s obvious. Heroes are flawed and make flawed choices. However, the students in looking up to their teachers idealize them a little too much, to the point where it becomes impossible for them to accept any criticism of the heroes.

However, the kids are starting to see that heroes aren’t perfect. Theymake mistakes. They’re flawed. The problem with the kids isn’t that they liked heroes, it’s that their ideals were completely black and white. Heroes good, villains bad. Heroes always save people. Heroes can’t ever be selfish, self-serving, or flawed as the rest of us, because well they’re heroes.

If heroes are supposed to save people, then what about the people they don’t save? That’s the question that Himiko brings to Uraraka, however, Uraraka can’t even understand the question. In Uraraka’s idealized reality there is no situation where heroes fail to save someone. Heroes are always well-meaning. Heroes always do their best to save others. There’s nobody who’s been failed, or even hurt by heroes. Uraraka doesn’t understand that people like Himiko have been disappointed and failed by heroes over and over again, and some of them like Dabi have been outright abused. Uraraka cannot understand that the heroes that are helping her, the quirk therapy system that never hurt her, could have harmed someone so thoroughly as it did Himiko that she believes that the only way to survive is to fight back and even kill. Uraraka just hasn’t seen a reality where heroes fail to save people. In Uraraka’s world, heroes are good, heroes are selfless, heroes are kind. Himiko can’t possibly have a reason. If Himiko wants to hurt people, she must have chosen to do that on their own. If Himiko wants to hurt people then she must be a bad person.

Heroes save people, so if Himiko questions heroes, or tries to fight back against them, then Himiko is just getting in the way. Then Himiko is just being selfish. She’s putting her own needs, and her own hurt feelings over all of those innocent people that are in need of saving. See, Uraraka can’t understand that heroes can hurt people too, so she doesn’t understand that someone like Himiko who has been hurt by the heroes, by the people supposed to save her, might be in need of saving.

Uraraka can’t perceive of a reality where heroes would disappoint, or would hurt others. So, Uraraka’s declaration is partially made in ignorance. She says that Himiko has to live with the consequences of her actions, but Uraraka at the same time isn’t living in the same reality that Himiko is. She’s been protected, sheltered so far, and her point of view comes from that fact. The same system that helped Uraraka, has also hurt Himiko, and Uraraka can’t grasp that. Uraraka first fails to save Himiko, and then this chapter she’s met with the same thing.

Uraraka learns the harsh truth in this chapter. That not all heroes are invested in saving other people as she is. That not all of them are doing this out of the goodness of their hearts.

If a hero can stare at this wreckage where so many innocent people are screaming for help, and then just give up. Just say, it’s too hard to save all these people. How many kids in this wreckage are going to get helped? How many are the heroes going to take care of? How many are they just going to give up on because it’s too hard? The thing is, every single kid in this broken down city could turn into another Himiko, because people aren’t good or bad. Circumstances are good and bad, they shape people in good and bad way. The same way that the children asking for help in this city are victims of circumstance, Himiko too was just another victim of circumstance, just another child that didn’t get saved. The only difference between her and the others is that she grew up and fought back.

Heroes don’t save everyone and something needs to be done about that. Heroes aren’t perfect, however, closing your eyes to that reality and pretending they are, pretending that everything just fine means that nothing is going to change and nothing is going to improve. It’s only when the kids see the flaws in the adult heroes around them, that they can see how they as the next generation can be better than them. Go beyond plus ultra, right? If this manga is about becoming the best hero you can be. Then, the kids should be thinking about how they can save, even the ones that the adult heroes have given up on saving.

#uraraka ochako #ochako uraraka #himiko toga #mha meta #my hero academia meta #my hero academia #bnha 296 spoilers #bnha 296 #mha 296 #mha 296 spoilers

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writer-panda · 3 years

Text

Ruin and Rebirth - Chapter 1

Ruin and Rebirth

Chapter 2

Inspired by @jumpingjoy82 on Tumblr. Thank you for the amazing prologue.

I don’t own the characters, only the plot. Miraculous and Justice League belong to their respective creators

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"It's okay Marinette. Everything is going to be fine. You’re too young to understand, but it was for the greater good."

To young.

TO YOUNG!

It was all the Justice League's fault. If they kept their incompetent asses out of Paris, none of this would have happened.

Apparently, they just spontaneously decided to go through the Watchtower’s recycling bin, and what they found astonished them. Years upon years worth of pleas for help from Paris.

They decide to finally investigate, and it just so happens that it was during an Akuma Attack, and they threw everything the Parisian heroes were telling them out of the window, wanting to do things their own way.

Superman was one of the ones there.

And they learned just how far the Miracle Cure could go.

He decided to use his super strength and threw a car at the akumatized victim, who moved out of the way at the last minute, so the car sailed right through the Tom & Sabine Bakery, promptly, catching on fire, giving no time for the people inside to get out. No one got out alive.

Ladybug froze for a moment, before fighting with more determination than before, knowing that the Miracle Cure would bring them back.

She was wrong, which brings us back to this point.

"I don't give a damn about you so-called 'greater good' and now you’re telling me, that I'm too young to understand, but am I too young to experience it? Too young to actually see everything and everyone I love torn from me because of these heroes?! Why the hell are they here now? Where were they when this first started? What changed? And now, because of them, my entire family is dead!"

After that everything was hazy, but she knew, she hated superheroes.

They never knew when to stop, and just like Chat Noir, they expected to be praised for whatever happens, no matter if there were casualties or not.

The world would be better off without them.

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

The sun has long since set over Paris. The fires were still burning in some parts of town. For the first time since Ladybug first appeared, the citizens of Paris felt true fear. It was ironic. They didn’t fear the akuma. They feared the heroes that came to their rescue. For the first time in four years, the casualties were piling up. And the akuma was responsible for none.

True, many of them initially asked for it. With each fight, Ladybug and Chat Noir were taking longer. It’s been obvious for some time that they were slowly being worn out. Some media started to criticize the duo, question their skills, age, their right to act in Paris. They weren’t part of the UN Justice League Charter. Their only real authority came from the trust of the citizens themselves. And that trust was lost. The civilian pleas to the Justice League increased in number and frequency. Under public pressure, the mayor had no choice but to issue an official plea for help.

But then, then… the heroes came.

In retrospection, almost everyone would agree that it was a mistake. Justice League was not used to fighting magical threats. They weren’t practiced in dealing with possessed villains. They didn’t understand. And they treated Ladybug and Chat Noir worse than sidekicks.

That flying chicken even dared to wrap Chat Noir in a metal bar so he wouldn’t get in the way.

Ladybug… tried her best. She allowed herself to trust the new heroes. She stopped saving every civilian from the rubble. She focused on the akuma. If heroes didn’t bother with the lives, it must’ve meant they trusted her cure, right?

WRONG

They were like a tank, riding through the city with a singular goal in mind.

It didn’t help that they deemed the akuma a “world-level threat”. Yeah, right. Stormy Weather was powerful, but the damage could’ve been repaired.

Or so she thought.

The volcanos, the tsunami, the tornadoes, the earthquakes? Those were fixed. The rubble caused by them was put back in place and those who suffered under them were better than new.

But not the damage caused by the heroes.

Not the bakery.

There was no magic in what happened. There was nothing to reverse. Those were human actions. For the first time perhaps, the people could see how much of the damage caused by the fight was the fault of heroes. How many deaths they caused. That is if they admitted, before themselves at least, that it was their fault.

And yet, the so-called ‘heroes’ dared to lecture her about responsibility. About the sacrifice of few for the lives of many. About the innocence of young.

She ran away. She managed to dodge them and vanish. Meld with the crowd when there were no cameras in sight and she was sure they couldn’t track her.

Now, Ladybug stood alone on the top of the Eiffel tower, with her yo-yo communicator in her hand. She sent the message fifteen minutes ago. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but at this point, she no longer cared. There was nothing more for her.

“He thought this was a trap.” A voice spoke from behind her. Ladybug twisted immediately, taking a guarded stance. She was still avoiding the Justice League after all. Before her stood… someone. She suspected it was an Akuma. The woman had pale skin and wore a black dress, black gloves, and a black veil over her face.

“It isn’t. I’m alone. The city suffered enough as it is today. I suffered enough.” Ladybug’s voice cracked slightly.

“I see…” The akuma pursed her lips. For a moment, a purple butterfly appeared over her face before the woman nodded. “Fine. Give me your miraculous and I will take you to him.”

“That isn’t going to work and you know it. You would just leave me stuck here. I’m willing to offer a token of goodwill though.” With that, Ladybug pulled a necklace and dangled it before the akuma.

“Is that…?”

“The miraculous of the fox? Yes. No tricks. I want to negotiate. In-person.” She made sure to emphasize the last part.

The outline of the butterfly appeared in front of the Akuma’s face for a moment before she silently nodded. “I can lead you to him, but not before you reveal your face.”

“Fine.” Ladybug didn’t hesitate. She was past that point long ago. There was no hesitation, no doubt… no regret. Not for her actions anyway. No more.

In the flash of light, instead of Ladybug, Marinette stood before the akuma.

“You’re…” the woman’s voice was stuck in her throat.

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Tikki, floating nearby gasped in fear. The Kwami didn’t get a chance to explain before Marinette resumed her transformation.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

The two leaped from the tower and started to zoom over the city. At first, they remained silent. Neither wanted to speak. It was tense anyway. It was, of course, Marinette who broke the silence first.

“Your… your look. Have you lost someone today?”

The woman didn’t answer immediately. She appeared to be mulling over the question at first. Or wondering if she should answer.

“A… colleague; coworker. He was… a friend of mine you could say. We’ve been working side-by-side for at least a decade.”

“I see…” Marinette pursed her lips into a thin line. “I’m sorry.” She spoke up after a moment. “I imagine you blame me now?”

“No.” The akuma snapped. “You’re just a child. I put the blame where it belongs. With heroes. And with people who chose to invite them.”

“Not hawkmoth?” Escaped ladybug’s mouth before she realized it.

“He… he never wanted this either. He isn’t a villain you believe him to be.” The akuma hesitated for a moment, but Marinette could sense it was her own opinion. She filed it in her brain under interesting.

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When they arrived at Agreste manor, Marinette was surprised.

When they entered the study, she was baffled.

When they went down the secret elevator, she was angry.

When she stood before Hawkmoth, she was furious. And it wasn’t because he was her mortal enemy.

“So that’s why you neglect your only son?!” She screamed at him as soon as he turned to see her. His mouth moved, probably to give some excuse. “I don’t care if you want to rule the world or be a god or whatever. No matter what little sick excuse your brain found to justify your actions. You are not allowed to just ignore Adrien like that! He needs a father. He is a teenager and he needs you!”

“Madmoiselle Dupain-Cheng.” His voice was cold, but in a different way than she ever heard Gabriel Agreste or Hawkmoth speak.

“Gabriel Agreste. And I assume you akumatized your Assistant, Nathalie?” She pointed to the woman next to her.

“Astute observation, Ladybug. You risked a lot coming here to speak with me. I could take your miraculous now, or any other time. You gave me your most precious protection: your secret identity. So… what was that important?”

“I want to know. What is so important to you that you’re willing to go any length to get it?”

“That’s it?” Hawkmoth raised an eyebrow. “That’s all? You’re ready to risk everything over that little piece of knowledge?”

“Yes.” Once more, there was no hesitation. There was no doubt. Her heart had no place for doubts anymore. Her heart was still stuck under three levels worth of rubble.

“And what, pray tell, would you do if I told you?” He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“That depends.” She could see he was now intrigued, so she started to explain. “On whether I like the goal or not. And on whether you understand fully the implications. If you pass, you will get my miraculous and I will deliver you Chat Noir’s miraculous too. If you fail, you still get my miraculous. But you will never get the ring. I made sure that if something happens tonight, he will retire. He will leave Paris and toss the ring into the ocean in a concrete box. You would be left to torture the city all you wish until the League found you, but the ring’s power would forever remain out of your reach. You would be left with nothing but a criminal record. And your son would sooner than later be left without both parents. Of course, you could abandon your crusade, but then I would’ve won. I’m not a naive girl without a plan. Not anymore.” She spat the last part angrily, but her gaze was not focused on Hawkmoth, but far in the distance.

“I… see. Clever. You’re right. This will probably end tonight.” He looked her over top to bottom. It was the first time he stood so close face to face with Ladybug. His nemesis.

Gabriel wasn’t sure if he was impressed with her, or infuriated. Scratch that, he was sure he was both. She outsmarted him. She was willing to make an ultimate sacrifice for the sake of ending the fight. In that very moment, in her determined expression, he saw a reflection of another headstrong woman he knew. It was as if Emilie’s spirit stood before him.

“So? How will it be?” she asked impatiently.

“Follow me.” He simply motioned for her and started walking.

Soon, the group entered a large chamber, lit by several lights. In the center of a platform in the far end stood a glass coffin. Even from the distance, Marinette easily saw there was a woman inside. She was quick to pass Hawkmoth and get there, even as he was trying to grab her.

When the akuma and Gabriel arrived, they watched as Marinette was carefully pacing around the coffin and muttering under her breath.

“She overused the damaged miraculous.” It wasn’t a question, but Hawkmoth answered anyway.

“Yes. Only the wish can bring her back.”

“You’re one of the biggest idiots in this whole city!” The girl screamed. “She is not dead, you moron. There are literally five different ways listed in the book which, may I remind you, you possess!” She continued to yell at him. “Hell! You could akumatize someone and give him healing power. You know… use the butterfly miraculous like it was meant to be used!” She scolded. “But nooo! You’ve got to be an idiot and immediately go for the most dangerous, imprecise, reckless, chaotic, risky solution there was! I’m sure she would’ve been ashamed.”

Gabriel was at a loss for words. Was it really that easy? It couldn’t have been. He checked several times. He would’ve known. The akuma left Nathalie, who collapsed onto the ground. Some tear stains were now visible on her face. “I… I was just… I did what she told me. Only the wish can bring back the dead.” He stammered.

“She. Is. Not. Dead.” Marinette made sure to punctuate each word. “She is in a coma. She is alive you moron. Tikki! Spots off!” The flash of light signaled the end of her transformation. “Be silent, little one.” She said in a caring voice. She couldn’t bring herself to take her anger on Kwami, but she couldn’t doubt now. “Akumatize me. Give me the power to heal her.”

The corruption left the akuma that was floating in the air, only for Hawkmoth to get his hands around the white butterfly and pour a new dose of power into it. It flew the short distance between them and sunk into Marinette’s purse. She smirked as the corrupted energy passed through her, turning her into an akuma. That is until she could see how she looked.

“I’m not sure how you can call yourself a designer and yet dress me in this!” she complained. Her skin was now deep red, the color of blood, and her clothes turned into a white nurse uniform. Still, she walked to the coffin and easily opened the top. From her purse (now medic’s bag) she pulled a needle and injected the content into Emilie.

When the beautiful woman started to move, letting out an exhausted groan, Marinette sighed in relief.

“Wha… what’s going on… the last thing I… Gabriel!” She bolted upright and immediately moaned in pain. Her hand instinctively flew to her back. “Gabriel Agreste! Did you keep me in this coffin for a whole week!?” She yelled at her husband. “And who’re those two?” She pointed at Marinette, who was smiling next to her, and Nathalie, still exhausted on the floor. “You were supposed to only reveal this to Adrien if anything happened to me. There was no talk about your assistant and… um, who’re you?” The woman turned to the akuma, who sighed and tore a strap of her bag. The butterfly left the item and Marinette reverted back to her normal form.

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m… was… used to be Ladybug.”

“But you’re just a kid. And why was Ladybug active… Gabriel!” She roared and her husband took a step back.

Marinette was… surprised. She didn’t expect Emilie to be like that. From what Adrien told her, she was supposed to be the kindest, nicest person in the world. Then again, he might’ve been looking at it through tinted glasses.

“Yup.” The bluenette couldn’t stop herself from commenting. “He decided that the best way to wake you up was to get the miraculi of Ladybug and Black Cat.”

“You nincompoop. That plan was only for when I was dead.” She glared heatedly at her husband and Marinette couldn’t help but be a bit smug. “And you couldn’t get the items from a kid? How many other heroes are there?”

“Only Chat Noir. He’s my age. And I sometimes call in some help from others.” Marinette supplied quickly. She was having entirely too much fun from watching Emilie tear Hawkmoth a new one.

“Two kids! You couldn’t defeat two kids! I leave for just one second and you start getting your rear kicked by kids!”

“He also neglected Adrien for the last two years.” Marinette decided to have as much fun as she could while it lasted.

“Gabriel Agreste. You’re officially grounded until I sort this mess. Now take your secretary and leave. I will sort the mess with you later,” she ordered. Her husband could only nod and leave as quickly as possible.

Marinette was now holding her sides laughing. ”That was amazing. Merci Madame Agreste. I didn’t think I would get to laugh tonight… But this was too good.”

“Oh sunshine, don’t worry. I will get him in line for you. Whoever decided to let kids fight for them was clearly sick or senile.”

“Master Fu was… he made some mistakes. I… maybe if I wasn’t so young…”

“It’s not your fault. Whatever you blame yourself for. You shouldn’t have been responsible for Paris. Or whatever else my husband did. I think some time on the couch will do him great.” The woman got up and walked over to pull Marinette into a hug. She then led the girl back to the (now half-open) coffin and seated them both on the edge. “Why don’t you tell me what ails you? I’m sure I can help.”

For a moment, Marinette looked the woman in the eyes. Then, she started talking. She told her everything.

About a class full of idiots who believed every lie and actively fought against her.

About Lila, who manipulated everyone and did everything to turn her life into a personal version of hell.

About the teachers, who preferred to let her be walked on then do their jobs.

About her partner, the dorky cat who couldn’t take life seriously and at times was immature. She came to like his antics, but he infuriated her as much as he kept her sane.

About the so-called heroes, who came into the city and ruined her life.

About the destroyed bakery. The four bodies inside.

“It was her birthday. Today my nonna had her sixtieth birthday. We were celebrating when the Akuma happened. Except the Justice League came. Funny thing. The cure can return anyone killed by magic. It can’t return those killed by aliens tossing cars around.”

“Do you have any other family?” Emilie asked, worried about the girl. She walked through so much pain in her short life.

“My uncle… but he lives in Shanghai now. Papa was the only child and Maman moved here from Asia… I’m not sure what will happen next.” The girl revealed.

“Next? Next, you will come live with us. No strings attached. I have no need for your earrings or other miraculous and I can keep my husband in check. I owe you that much.”

“I… you don’t owe me anything, Madame.” The girl quickly protested. “You’re not responsible for what happened. I don’t blame your family. Those were the American heroes who killed my parents. They were the ones that destroyed half the city. They are the ones to blame,” Marinette informed the woman in a solemn tone.

“And that’s why I want you to stay with me. With us. I can protect you. Teach you. You can have your vengeance on those who wronged you. I can make you a queen. They will regret the day they wronged you.”

“I… I accept.” Marinette bowed her head.

#miraculous #maribat #justice league #dc #dcu #dc comics #ladybug #evil!Emilie Agreste #hawkmoth #bamf marinette

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

The Brothers and Side Characters Play Ticket To Ride

Guess who just had a family game night and decided this would be a good idea? Meeeeee!

Last Minute Road/Track Buyer (Lucifer)

This smug son of a bitch doesn’t even complete his trip cards. He just amasses a massive deck of cards and then buys all of the five and six roads, effectively messing up everyone’s strategies.

Luci would have a good poker face if it weren’t for how giddy he gets when he sees the hope drain from his opponents faces as he takes the coveted fifteen point six road.

His main colour is black because he’s an emo bitch.

Lucifer can and Lucifer will take that two road you need to connect your trains, thus ruining everyone’s lives.

He basks in the chaos and rage like a god before Beel tells him that he’s eaten all the game night chips.

He’ll win sometimes, but his lack of trip cards will often be his downfall. Lucifer is just here to fuck everyone over.

FUCK YOU! DON’T YOU DARE TAKE THAT CARD- (Mammon)

Mammon’s greedy little heart sank when he heard that Monopoly had been passed over for family game night, but he caught onto the rules of Ticket to Ride very quickly.

Being the gambler he is, Mammon’s poker face is completely god-tier… except when he has all the cards needed to make his road or someone else takes the cards he needs.

Levi is often the main culprit and fights have started over this.

He argues with the rules a lot if he thinks they’re stupid, this gives Satan a migraine.

Mammon doesn’t save his cards, the moment he has all the ones he needs, he’s buying his road, which is good at the beginning, but often leads to him ending up with no cards by the end.

He is SO insufferable when he wins, please beat him so we don’t have to hear him gloat like an asshole.

Rule-Whore (Leviathan)

“That’s against the rules!” “You can’t have more than three wild cards in the draw pile!” “You need to take three trip cards!”

…so annoying…

Levi is such a rule whore he’ll try and take the instructions from Satan, which will usually result in Levi getting socked in the jaw.

He mains blue because obviously.

Levi tends to plan out his route ahead of time, but he makes it too obvious and his roads end up getting sniped, thus rendering all the cards he had amassed completely useless.

He gets super iffy about his trains being in perfect formation both on and off the board.

Beat his ass for being annoying.

Ha! I’ve Planned for This- Aw Fuck…(Satan)

You fool, you stupid human, Satan had planned out his route ten years before the first turn even happened!

All he has to do now is- DID LUCIFER JUST SNIPE HIS FUCKING ROAD?!

…he’s cool, he’s calm. He can work around this. Satan just has to get the cards he needs- SON OF A BITCH MAMMON WHY’D YOU TAKE BOTH THE ORANGES?!

Worried about your asshole fellow players not giving you your points? Fret not, Satan has everyone’s points memorized and will adjust accordingly. He’s winning this fair and square.

Satan manages to win pretty frequently solely because he picks up so many trip cards and completes a good chunk of them.

Satan mains green because I said so.

Annoying Spectator (Asmodeus)

For the love of God Asmo, you aren’t even playing! Shut up and go away!

He leans over people’s shoulders and criticizes their choices like the world’s most annoying guardian angel… or demon.

“Pick up red.” “Asmo, piss off.” “I’m just trying to help, Belphie! Look, Mammon’s gone and taken your road!” “I DIDN’T EVEN NEED THAT ONE!”

When Asmo does play, he doesn’t play well at all, he just has the worst luck with cards and has the worst poker face.

If someone just took a card that Asmo needed, they are going to get glared at from across the table.

Almost never wins, but when he does, he’s INSUFFERABLE.

“It’s so nice to have the family together :)” (Beel)

Sweet man is just happy everyone’s together, he’s also happy about the multiple party size bags of chips that are on the table.

Beel builds his roads from point A to point B, no fancy skipping or strategies. This often serves him quite well because he can just shift where he’s going on the fly.

Though, he does get confused on where some of the locations are, he’ll end up accidentally cheating and looking at people’s cards when he leans over to see the whole board to try and find out where TF he’s going.

He tries to complete every trip card he has, and he mostly succeeds at that, buuuuut he never thinks to pick up more, which is his downfall.

He mains red, because Duh.

Overall, Beel’s a surprisingly formidable opponent, his resting bitch face serves him well.

“*Snrk* H-huh? What the fuck… what’d I knock over? Where am I? Whose turn is it?” (Belphie)

This little shit- THIS LITTLE BASTARD FUCKS EVERYTHING UP. He falls asleep and when anyone wakes him up for his turn, he “accidentally” knocks everyone’s trains off the board.

He’s doing terribly. Don’t help him.

Belphie loses motivation the moment someone ruins his carefully formulated plan, and making a new one’s too much work so… *snore*

He takes what he can get with the trip cards, he’ll complete the smaller ones and kind of eyeball the big ones and make it up as he goes along if everything goes to shit.

If Belphie gets bored, he’ll purposefully break the rules just to piss of Levi and Satan. He’s a little goblin…

Belphie wins when he puts the work in… which is never.

…Wait what? (Diavolo)

Diavolo is literally the worst at this game at first. He’s picking up two wild cards when he’s not supposed to, he’s buying roads when it’s not his turn, he somehow messed up the points, ugh…

He gets really confused about the rules, he’ll often interrupt people mid-turn to ask a question that spirals into a long explanation.

But when he finally understands the game… May the demon king have mercy on your souls…

He goes from zero to hero and crushes everyone without fail.

It doesn’t matter if he had shitty luck in the beginning because he’s come back to completely ruin your entire route.

Oh, Solomon needed that road? Too bad. It belongs to Diavolo now. Give him his fucking points.

Peace between the realms can wait, he’s got noobs to pwn.

The Wise Mentor (Barbatos)

Barbatos can see the future, he’s cheating by default.

When he sort of… turns off his powers, people still think he’s cheating because he’s just that good at guessing where people need to go and crushing their hopes and dreams.

Except for Luke. Barbatos is teaching him how to be as brutal a player as he is. He will not crush Luke.

As good a player as Barbatos is, one bad trip card will crush his entire strategy. This may be the one time you hear him swear.

It’s a very quiet “son of a bitch..”

Cheater. Asshole. Fight instigator. (Solomon)

Okay who the fuck invited this guy?

Better question, who the fuck let him be in charge of the cards?

Solomon cheats and lies about it, all with a smile on his face. Think you caught him? No you didn’t.

He peeks at cards before he grabs them, gives people the worst possible ones for what they’re doing, AND he gets potato chip grease all over the cards!

When he’s no my allowed to cheat, Solomon’s only half decent at the game overall. Luck is usually on his side, but sometimes luck isn’t enough.

0/10 kick his shifty ass out.

“No, stop,” *Pulls out popcorn* “Don’t fight, oh no.” (Simeon)

Fucking Simeon… he sits back and watches the fight even though he knows he can stop it.

When he’s playing the actual game, he’s pretty average, but when he gets on a roll, oh boy…

He doesn’t snipe roads on purpose, but he’s gotta get where he’s going. Sorry not sorry, may the good lord bless your loser ass.

Sexy shoulder-man’s poker face isn’t anything special, it’s 5/7 overall.

Simeon’s fatal flaw is that he picks up cards only when he needs them, he doesn’t plan ahead, so it’s super easy to swipe the cards he needs before his turn.

He is nice enough to move everyone’s points for them^.^ so he’s better than the rest of those dirty sinners.

“NO PLEASE I NEED THAT ROAD-” (Luke)

So you know how everyone is an awful person? This is proven whenever the gang plays Ticket to Ride with Luke.

Luke demands/begs that no one takes the roads he needs and almost no one listens.

It’s heartbreaking to watch please give the little angel a hug.

But listen, listen, after a bit, Luke gets scary good at the game and very close to winning. His little victory dance is so fucking cute 10/10.

But oh my… it appears that Luke has one tiny road he needs to connect his trains… it would be a shame if Lucifer just… took that.

Luke gets petty, he just puts his hand over the spot and refuses to move it. This goes on for like five minutes until Levi brings up that it’s not even Lucifer’s turn.

Gasp! Hope! It’s Solomon’s turn- HE TOOK THE FUCKING ROAD.

…betrayal.

Luke’s moving out. He can’t go back to Purgatory Hall. He’s going to become the little Victorian street urchin he was destined to become. He is packing his little rucksack and fleeing from this household.

————

I love family game nights… all of you should get together with your family and your squad and break out some board games. Just not Monopoly. Anything but Monopoly…

#obey me #Obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Diavolo #Obey Me Barbatos #Obey me Solomon #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Luke

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ethanesimp · 3 years

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DON’T BURN THE PANCAKES // E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x GN! Reader

Summary: Your daughter’s idea of cooking breakfast for you doesn’t go as well as she’d hoped for.

Warnings: Just swearing, this is pure fluff

Word Count: 3.1k

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

Taglist: @superchrystaldrug @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @bidet-and-legolas @gretavanfleetlove @victoriadeangeliswifey @selenophiliaxx @tabi-toast @queen-of-brokenhearts @ohtorchio @geklutst-ei @soraya825 @juststalking @cruz-ata

A/N: I will not accept any criticism on me calling his child Marlena. I thought it was cute and maybe something one of the band members would eventually do? I hope this is cute enough and that it doesn’t suck? My brain is completely fried from school so yeah!

The sky was slowly starting to get painted orange and birds had just begun chirping when Ethan was woken up by someone poking his cheek repeatedly. He'd been trying to ignore it, but the little lady doing it was persistent and wouldn't back down until she saw him open his brown eyes.

So, with a quiet groan as to not wake you, he gently removed the arm that was wrapped around your waist and turned around to look at the little girl who was sitting down on the bed, patiently waiting for him to wake up.

He offered her a lopsided smile and ruffled up her messy dark brown hair. She giggled and pushed his hand away, "Stop it, daddy!" She squealed. Ethan brought a finger to his lips and pointed at you sleeping peacefully beside him.

She nodded and shot him an apologetic smile. Ethan shook his head and got up from the bed. He lifted her into his arms without much effort and carried her out of your shared bedroom. He closed the door behind him and turned to kiss her cheek, "Good morning cara mia."

"Good morning daddy," She mumbled and nuzzled her face into his chest as she yawned.

Ethan laughed lightly, "Still tired Mar?" She immediately shook her head no and asked him to let her down. When he did, little Marlena took his hand in hers and dragged him to the kitchen as quickly as her little feet would allow.

It was your birthday today and, just like every year, she'd come up with a plan to give you something special and had asked Ethan for help. He'd taken her to the mall a few days back so she could pick up a present and the night before after you went to bed, he'd stayed up with Marlena to help her make your birthday card. All that was left were the pancakes she wanted to make you because, according to her, cakes were already overdone and you deserved something different and special, just like you.

Her statement had warmed Ethan's heart and he agreed without complaint even if he was aware of just how difficult it'd be to clean the kitchen after they were done. She was always so excited about giving you both presents on any occasion she got and he wouldn’t deny either of you the joy you’d surely feel for Marlena’s little gesture.

Ethan set her down on the counter and went to retrieve the pancake mix they’d bought while at the mall, “Okay, so what do you want to do? I’ve got the heart molds you asked for. Would you like to use them or should we just make some normal ones?”

She shook her head and pointed at the red heart-shaped cookie cutter that sat on the counter, “I think they’d like the hearts better,” He nodded in agreement and starting collecting the bowl and spoon they’d need to mix the batter.

He stood there and silently watched her mix everything together as music softly played from his phone which was sitting beside her on the counter. Ethan found himself nodding his head along to the songs he’d heard countless times on the cartoons Marlena watched every morning.

When finished, his daughter tilted the bowl towards him. Ethan smiled and gave her a thumbs up. He quickly greased one of the large pans, placed the heart-shaped mold on it, and poured a bit of the pancake mixture in. He repeated the process a few times until the whole pan was covered.

Right after he was done, loud cries were heard from the nursery. Ethan cursed under his breath and turned to Marlena, “I’ll be right back amore. Just stay there and please don’t go near the stove, kay?”

After receiving a nod, Ethan rushed out of the room and up the stairs. He walked into the nursery you’d both painted a pale yellow a few months back. He leaned down in front of the little cot and picked up the six-month-old baby girl wrapped in a little green blanket.

Ethan brought her close to his chest as he slowly moved his weight from one foot to the other and gently swayed his fingers side to side. She slowly started to quiet down and instead, a small smile appeared on her face at the sight of her dad. He cooed when she reached up for him with her tiny hands.

Unfortunately for him, all that peace lasted for merely a few minutes because then she started crying as loud as she could. He tried to sway her just a bit harder as he looked around the room for her pacifier so she’d quiet down while he got her bottle ready, otherwise, you’d be woken up and the surprise would be ruined.

Ethan sighed in relief when he spotted the little blue thing sitting on top of the dresser. However, his face fell as he turned to grab it and saw you leaning on the doorway out of the corner of his eye.

He turned around and offered you a small smile. You rubbed your eye and yawned, still exhausted, as you walked closer to him and took her from his arms, “I’ve got it tesoro, don’t worry. I can go get her a bottle.”

Ethan quickly shook his head, “No N/N, please let me. It’s your birthday and you should relax,” He insisted, hoping you’d just agree so he wouldn’t have to spoil Marlena’s surprise.

You raised an eyebrow in amusement at his words but nodded anyway, “Fine. I’ll accept because I wouldn’t mind a little nap,” You mumbled and carefully handed him the baby. You’d heard him and little Marlena talk about your surprise, but who were you to ruin it? Instead, you’d just go back to bed and wait for your little angel to bring you breakfast.

Before you could leave the room, Ethan grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him. He quickly kissed your forehead, “Happy birthday, amore mio. We can celebrate later, yeah?” He teased and playfully smacked your ass. You shook your head and laughed at his antics before leaving the room.

He walked down the stairs with the baby in his arms only to find his other daughter pouting as she sat on the counter, waiting for him to return. She pointed at the stove, where the pancakes sat, with smoke coming out of the pan and all that was in it was now a dark color.

Ethan sighed and dumped the pan on the sink with his free hand. Then he opened all the windows and swatted at the air with a towel to try and dissipate the smoke before it reached the fire detector and the alarm went off.

Ethan turned to look at his daughter, who was still pouting and looked almost on the verge of tears. He delicately cupped her cheek, “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll clean this up and then I’ll give you stuff to make more batter, okay?” She nodded and smiled gratefully at him. Ethan nodded and stood up straight as he felt the baby in his arms begin to stir.

He quickly gathered all the ingredients and placed them by the counter for his daughter to measure and mix. Ethan had taught her to cook the most basic things like eggs and pancakes ever since she was younger. Now she insisted on doing most things, like mixing or measuring ingredients, by herself.

He rushed to prepare the bottle for the baby as Marlena stayed distracted singing along to the music playing from his phone and mixed the pancake batter once again. Ethan moved around the room with ease, already used to doing things around the house while he held a baby in his arm.

Once they’d finished, Marlena insisted on carefully carrying the plate filled with pancakes and neatly chopped fruit up to your room while he carried the coffee, your birthday card, and present in his free hand. It was a bit hard and he had to walk up the stairs at a remarkably slow pace, but he managed anyway.

Even if things hadn’t gone that great at first, your reaction upon receiving your breakfast and letter, and how happy your daughter looked made everything worth it in Ethan’s mind. He loved the three of you more than words could ever express and he’d be willing to do anything only to see you smile.

#ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio x you #ethan torchio x y/n #ethan torchio fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #scheduled

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dreamingsnowflake2013 · 3 years

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They are so freaking domestic and married and functional the whole time I can’t!!! They bicker and banter with ease of two people who feel secure and confident around each other and know each other’s boundaries and limits and don’t need to worry about offending the other person or the conversation turning antagonistic which allows them this sort of brutal honesty, at times, and frank criticism.

Issei gets the edamame shell husband treatment and he literally can’t believe it Hayame did that to him right in front of his salad when it already helped to ruin her previous relationship. It seems Hayame didn’t understand his lesson about the difference between the edamame shell and skin, well, she was in the middle of confronting her cheating ex so I suppose she was otherwise engaged.

Though, poor Issei doesn’t know the depth of Hayame’s culinary disability until he discovers her special lemon and cereal gyoza! HA! I admire that he doubles down on his criticism and even if he tries to back pedal, he simply can’t make himself lie to her even to please her when it’s so awful.

Unlike her ex-husband, he doesn’t put on a fake smile and swallows it so he wouldn’t hurt Hayame’s feelings but actually tells her it sucks bigly, showing that not only won’t he ever lie to her or keep secrets from her, he won’t feed her white lies to avoid conflict either. You almost never see portrayed in Asian dramas how these little mundane details can lead to a complete failure of a relationship once they pile up. Quite the opposite, they often depict swallowing food that makes you puke as something romantic and a proof of love without giving any thought to the fact whether the person can manage that for the rest of their life, considering it’s suggested most of the OTPs live happily ever after. The issue shows that Hayame and Issei are already more than one step further regarding the growth and functionality of their relationship than she ever came with Masahiro, illustrating their suitability. It’s not about a relationship being conflict-free, it’s about confronting the problems, argue about them even though it’s exhausting and uncomfortable and solve them through communication and misucommunication, not about hushing the issues up and staying silent about them in order to avoid arguments.

The drama might be called Promise Cinderella but it has been turning the Cinderella stereotypes on their head since episode 1. One of them is Hayame not fitting the bill of a girl who is amazing at cooking, sewing, reading, embroidering, polite conversation, dancing and generally being more princess-like than all the princesses and noblewomen, even though her mother died in her childhood and she couldn’t have taught her all those things, neither could her father, nor the mice or the other animals she spent all her whole time with. Let’s face it, Cinderella has always been the fairytale counterpart of Richardson’s Pamela and Hayame - divorced, almost thirty, penniless and jobless - is the modern real-life version of an orphaned abused virgin fallen on hard times.

On the other hand, while Hayame might share Cinderella’s origin story of her mother dying at an early age, this sad event tragically affects her whole life in a much more realistic and darker way. Her father falls into a depression and becomes neglectful and she has to grow up overnight, having to learn everything by herself as she is left with no one to teach her, guide her and defend her so she ends up turning into a fiercely independent tomboy who is a self-taught cook and, as such, her cooking, well, sucks. She is literally the farthest thing from a Mary Sue ever.

Then, Issei may be a modern version of a prince but while young, he has been taught since an early age and has a very unconventional unique upbringing in a modern world - he is the one who excels at cooking (because he had someone who actually taught him), can tie kimonos, knows the proper etiquette, can arrange flowers and knows their language and meaning.

You would expect all those things from a woman, not a man; however, he is not only educated and good at them, he has a natural talent for them. In this way, the drama re-invents the Cinderella story, gives it a new original meaning and a breath of fresh air.

Thus, you can see all these details in which Hayame’s relationship with Issei differs from her marriage - they are left to live together alone in what is basically a simulated marriage, but she doesn’t end up in the traditional role of a woman and housewife whose purpose is to provide dinner/food for her husband who comes back from work. She used to work back then, too, even if only part time. Now, it’s her who works full-time while Issei works part-time but despite it they share the cooking and he, fittingly, ends up being the better cook, completely changing up the dynamic of the traditional roles both in the original fairytale and male/female relationships in general.

Except for a brief denial stage caused by his confused feelings, Issei has always been honest with Hayame, sometimes brutally so, be it regarding the major issues or mundane everyday things like her cooking skills.

He treats her the way she wants her to treat him, and, as a result, he rightfully expects the same honesty and consideration in return from her. He doesn’t want any lies or secrets between them, he wants a conversation not a deafening silence, regardless whether they are lovers or friends.

He wants honesty and equality and instead, Hayame is trying to dismiss him as a child again in an attempt to avoid the problem because it’s uncomfortable and she doesn’t want to have a messy argument or worry him. She should have known by now that that’s exactly the attitude which led to the failure of her marriage. Not that they are an excuse or justification for cheating, but Masahiro raised some good points about the things he disliked about her and it’s time Hayame learns from her past mistakes.

Marriage/romantic relationship is not a one-person show, the point of it being you are not alone to deal with your problems, some burdens should be shared and if not, the other person feels left out because their partner keeps secrets from them which then leaves many opportunities for misunderstandings and creates a rift that keeps growing between the couple. Hayame’s greatest strengths - her self-reliance and independence - which allowed her to survive on her own so far become her greatest weaknesses and drag her down now.

Issei immediately realizes Hayame has been putting a mask around him, trying to make herself look cheerful and happy, he can see through it right away as she can never fool him because he knows her so well and, frankly, she couldn’t pretend even if her life depended on it just like him. She fails to notice that this sort of consideration and selflessness are a double-edged sword.

It’s both apt and ironic she tries to dismiss him as a child because her stubborness, discomfort and avoidance maker HER appear like a child and Issei the one 10 years older with his patience, calm and and persistence on discussing and solving the whole issue. This time it’s him who calls her out on her bullshit and childishness.

Issei notices everything about Hayame, including her mood swings which also refer to the mixed signals she’s been sending him, and how could he not when he always watches her so searchingly as if he were trying to look inside her soul, trying to spot every quiver of her lashes and nervous press of her lips.

Thus, he can sense and predict what she plans to do because he can read her like an open book after watching her so closely for so long but also because he’s been there where Hayame is right now - he had been running away for the past 10 years before he met her and she saved him by making him realize he had been fucking up his life that way, therfore he gets angry seeing her repeating his mistakes.

Moreover, he is scared shitless he may one day wake up and end up like Seigo, abandoned by her, not even left with a direction where to look at her, because she thinks she is not good enough and fears she might drag him down and mess up his life.

Despite it all, Issei doesn’t think about himself first, he thinks about Hayame and what it is she truly wants. She feels so lost and conflicted, fretting and completely panicking and he pretty much tells her ‘fuck the world and other people! You are the only person who matters! Think about yourself first and do what you truly wish to do even if it makes them hate you.’ And from the hopeful way she looks at him, it’s exactly what she needs to hear and wants to truly do but lacks the courage to go through with it just yet.

Finally, THIS SHOT on the sofa! It pretty much says ‘married, in the middle of marital crisis and before a huge life-changing conversation’!

#promise cinderella #maeda gordon #nikaido fumi #gordon maeda #jdrama #fumi nikaido #analysis #sorry for the length #but there is #so much to #unpack here

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carminite-wyrm · 3 years

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A Kingsglaive Time Loop AU, Part 1

Nyx Ulric wakes up, the memories of a burning city, of betrayal and loss, fresh in his mind. It is not the first time that he wakes this way, and it won't be the last.

Or: Nyx has a very, very bad time.

Now with a Part 2!

Nyx gasped awake, the scent of ash and burning flesh, and the sound of war and ruin still fresh in his mind, a burning ember of phantom pain deep in his chest. He lay there, eyes quickly taking stock of the room he was in, a room that was so familiar to his senses, a room that he could have sworn should have been reduced to so much broken rubble, like the rest of Insomnia. He could see the fading curtains, the walls that were slightly cracked, the photos of his family and friends. By all appearances, this was the same damn apartment he’d lived in for nearly the past decade, down to even that one corner where it would always leak when it rained. Off to the side, he could see his phone, the date and day clearly marked upon it. The day that the ceasefire, and the peace treaty, had been declared.

He slowly ran his fingers over the worn fabric beneath him, the soft texture slowly easing the rapid pace of his heartbeat. He finally managed to drag himself into a sitting position, and lifted his left arm into the thin strip of sunlight that managed to peek through the curtains. There was no sign of the magical scarring that had crawled up his arm like wildfire, when he had put on that damn ring. His arm moved freely, none of the pain he still remembered slowing him down.

With a groan, he stumbled to his feet, shaking his head as he tried to dispel the…dream, it had to have been a dream, one born from that crippling loss that had nearly seen him lose Libertus, alongside the other fellow brothers and sisters in the Kingsglaive. There was no way everything had been real, even if there were elements of reality to it, such as that damnable giant daemon that had nearly been the cause of Libertus’ death. Now that he thought about it, really thought about it, away from the panic and adrenaline of oh shit everything is going to hell and the King is dead and so was-

Yeah, there was no fucking way any of that was real. It had felt real, sure, but Nyx was pretty damn sure that rationally, there was no way the King would have deigned to give him of all people the all-powerful ancestral ring that held together the shield over the city, and much more to boot. After all, didn’t the King still have people like Marshal Leonis, who definitely had the proper skills and strengths to guard something as important as that? Not some random Glaive who was in the process of serving out yet another punishment for insubordination.

Feeling almost like he was a ghost in his own body, Nyx decided the logical thing to do was to find Libertus and Crowe, his two best friends. Not just because he wanted to make sure they were fine, of course, but also-

Oh, who was he kidding, the dream – and yes, it was absolutely a dream, Nyx affirmed to himself – had in fact rattled him enough that he wanted to hug those two for at least an hour.

As he stumbled out of his apartment, blinking at the sunlight above him, he tried to remember where he was meant to be going, where he would be able to find Libertus and Crowe at…around midday, now that he checked his phone. His phone buzzed then, from where he had haphazardly crammed it into his uniform pocket. Taking it out, he smiled slightly at the message, which turned out to be from Libertus, and handily reminded him that they were meeting up in one of the training grounds.

Nyx tucked the phone away, and decidedly pushed aside the little part of himself that quietly reminded him that this was exactly how things had played out, in the dream. He still had to hold himself back from desperately clinging to Crowe and Libertus like his life depended on it, when he finally met up with them, though he did still give them both a slightly calmer hug, to their surprise.

That dream was just a combination of recent trauma, his own over-active imagination, and also probably more trauma.

Right?

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

Thirty minutes later, he was watching the news report about the coming Peace Treaty with Niflheim, the other Kingsglaive around him murmuring in discontent. As Commander Drautos -and how could he be a traitor, how could any of them be traitors- debriefed them, Nyx found himself having to hide his hands in the pockets of his uniform, the phantom urge to reach out and just end the man keeping him on edge the whole time, to the point that he almost missed Crowe being called away for a separate assignment.

Two days after he had woken up from that terrible dream, he watched as Libertus stormed away, the death-glazed eyes of Crowe staring up at him from inside the bodybag.

And on the 16th of May, four days after that dream, everything fell apart.

Nyx screamed wordlessly as he watched King Regis die at Glauca’s hands, the scene identical to the one he had dreamt, as Lunafreya spoke words that almost fell on horror-deaf ears, that only registered because he could almost speak them word for word himself.

He stumbled as the King’s magic disappeared, only kept upright by the fact that he already knew, somehow, what it felt like to lose that connection, the steel-spark buzz of power fleeing from where it had lain within him.

He received Drautos’ call almost in a fugue, his words echoing those from his dream. And it was only the memory of that dream that meant that the bullet from that traitorous bastard Lazarus only went through his arm, instead of through his shoulder, though the shock of it still had him on the ground. He mouthed the words Lazarus spoke, as he gloated, as he was goaded by Lunafreya into putting on that ring.

Libertus ramming into Drautos- no, Glauca, with the car, nearly made Nyx laugh out loud, it was so ridiculously accurate it felt like it was scripted. And when he faced the old Kings of Lucis, in that otherworldly time, it was only the faintest sense that he needed to save Libertus and Lunafreya, no matter what, that stopped him from cackling hysterically in the face of those reticent ghosts.

Nyx died with burning scars tracing up his left arm, with the rising sun in his eyes and the ruins of a dead city behind him.

And then he gasped awake, the scent of ash and burning flesh, and the sound of war and ruin still fresh in his mind, a burning ember of phantom pain deep in his chest.

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

All in all, Nyx thought it was perfectly justified that he missed the treaty announcement, and the subsequent debriefing, curled up in bed for the past hour as he realised, truly, that this wasn’t all just a horrible dream. That he was indeed reliving the same five days, the five days that would culminate in the fall of Insomnia, the deaths of almost everyone he’d cared for, and his own death at the very end of it all.

The ringing of his phone had eventually stopped, if only because he’d thrown it haphazardly off to another end of the room, and probably broken it in the process. With that in mind, he absently gave himself another twenty or so minutes before Libertus or Crowe, or both of them, broke into his room demanding if he was alright.

Oh shit, Crowe.

He dragged himself off his bed, and stumbled over to his sink, as the image of Crowe’s corpse rose unbidden at the thought. He stood there, hunched over the sink, as he desperately tried to bring some semblance of rational thought back.

He just. Needed to make sure Crowe wouldn’t go on that damned set-up of a mission, the one that would have Luche -that fucking traitorous bastard- killing her for- For what, exactly? Luche had only talked about what Niflheim had promised him and the other traitors, after he had revealed what he had done.

Alright, then. Nyx nodded to himself, taking a moment to wash away the acrid taste of bile. Crowe first, everything else can wait.

He had four days, or three, if he discounted this one, before Niflheim would attack during that farce of a treaty ceremony. Four days to figure out how to avert disaster.

Nyx briefly entertained the thought of just, grabbing Crowe and Libertus, and heading for literally anywhere other than Insomnia, before roughly brushing it aside. No, he had a second, well, third chance, somehow. A chance to make things better, to make it so that no one (except those who really, really deserved it) had to die, so that the Empire wouldn’t be able to run rampant with their magitek armies and tamed daemons. And what sort of hero would he be, if he just ran away from that chance?

A sharp knock on his door, and the sound of it being flung open, had him spinning around in surprise, stumbling back into the counter in barely-concealed panic, before he registered that 1) it wasn’t a magitek trooper or some other sort of attacker 2) it was Libertus and 3) Crowe wasn’t with him.

Somehow, he had forgotten that Libertus had his apartment’s spare key.

“Oh shit, Nyx!” Libertus crossed the room with surprising speed for someone on crutches, eyeing how Nyx was practically trying to meld with the countertop. “When you didn’t pick up the phone-“

Libertus broke off with a yelp as Nyx grabbed him, half in a hug, half so that he could drag him in closer.

“Lib. Where is Crowe?”

“She’s off at some confidential briefing with the Commander, Nyx, are you alright?” Libertus managed to extract himself from Nyx’s grasp, giving him a once-over with a critical gaze. “You look- you look like shit, Nyx. And you weren’t at training. Do I need to get you to a doctor?”

“N-no. I’m…fine.” Nyx slowly inhaled, then exhaled, before trying to make himself look a little less like he’d just had a breakdown for the past hour and then some. “I am definitely fine. But I need to see Crowe.”

“Nyx, I’m sure it can wait.” Libertus sighed, filling a glass with water and passing it to Nyx, gesturing for him to drink it. “Me and Crowe covered for you during the briefing you missed saying you came down with something, though Commander does want a confirm on that. Though, man, you actually look terrible.”

“Just…had a bad dream, that’s all.” Nyx admitted.

Libertus raised an eyebrow, before shaking his head.

“You know that you can tell us anything, right? Anything that’s troubling you.”

“I…”

Nyx considered telling Libertus everything. Telling him about Crowe’s death, about the Glaives turning traitor, of Commander Drautos being that hated General Glauca, of the city burning under an Imperial onslaught, of the Old Wall and the old Kings. Of how Nyx had died.

But would Libertus even believe him? Nyx barely could believe it himself, and he’d lived it. Twice.

Libertus was one of his best friends, his brother in all but blood. But even so, he was fairly certain that Lib was probably going to check him into a hospital, at least initially, and he couldn’t afford to spend time trying to assure him of his sanity when he only had four and a half days.

“I’m fine, Lib. Really. Just had a bad dream, about Galahd.” Nyx paused, before he added. “And that giant daemon.”

“Oh.”

“Now, please, I need to meet up with Crowe.”

“She should be out of that meeting by now, I told her to meet up with us here, after I checked on you.”

Almost as if on cue, Crowe burst into the unlocked room.

“Oh good, you’re alive.” Crowe said, looking at Nyx and Libertus. “Wow, you really do look out of it.”

“Crowe!” Nyx swept her up in a hug, trying not to tear up.

“Hey, hey, Nyx. You good?” Crowe asked.

“You’re alive.” Nyx breathed, clutching her harder. “You’re alive.”

“I…am?” Crowe looked over at Libertus in confusion. Libertus shrugged, mouthing ‘Bad dream’ at her. Nyx instinctively lifted his middle finger at him, having caught the action even as he swallowed back his tears. “Look, Nyx, I’m fine, alright? Now, sit down, and let us catch you up to speed. Some shit’s gone down.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.” Nyx nodded, slowly moving to sit down. Libertus and Crowe both perched themselves nearby, Libertus taking the other seat, whilst Crowe leaned against the counter, wrinkling her nose at the mess in his sink.

“So…what’s happened?” Nyx asked, though he knew what it was they were going to tell him. But…well, he couldn’t just tell them how he knew that anyways, might as well give himself plausible deniability for some of his foreknowledge.

“Niflheim wants a peace treaty, at the cost of all other regions of Lucis besides Insomnia. And the King accepted it.” Libertus spat.

“There’s…not many in the Kingsglaive are happy about things at all. The general sentiment is that the King’s throwing away our homes.” Crowe continued. “On that note, the Commander’s given me a mission to recover the Princess Lunafreya from Tenebrae, I’m leaving first thing tomorrow.”

“No.”

Libertus and Crowe both turned to stare at Nyx, who was clutching the glass of water in his hands like a lifeline as he spoke.

“What-“

“You can’t. Crowe, please,” Nyx looked up at her, trying to convey the importance of his words, the desperation behind them. “Don’t go on that mission.”

“Nyx, I have to-“

“I don’t want to lose you, Crowe.” I don’t want to lose you again.

“Look, Nyx, you know I can handle myself.” Crowe patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t let some bad dream get you all worked up, what did you dream of, me dying?”

Nyx dropped the glass, sending shards scattering across his floor. Distantly, he heard Libertus cursing, and Crowe…saying something, something that he probably imagined was supposed to be soothing, but couldn’t hear over the rising static as he remembered Crowe’s death, Libertus’ fury, Luche’s smug shitty face, Drautos half covered in that cursed armour-

Eventually, things slowly came back into focus, and he blinked as he looked up at Crowe and Libertus’ slightly relieved expressions. His neck ached, and it was only then that he realised that somehow, he’d gone from sitting in one of the terrible bargain chairs he had in his flat, to being on the floor, back pressed to one of the walls.

“You back with us, hero?” Libertus asked softly.

“Y-yeah.” Nyx croaked out, tilting his neck back and forth for a bit in an attempt to ease the soreness. “Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be. Guess I must’ve accidentally hit the nail right on its head, then.” Crowe said, crouching down and slowly extending her hand. “Now, let me help you up.”

Nyx nodded, getting his breathing under some semblance of control, and he briefly closed his eyes, waiting until he felt calm enough to actually move.

He let Crowe hoist him to his feet, and went in for another hug, this time getting both her and Libertus in it. They gradually relocated to sit on his bed, Nyx practically wrapped around his two siblings-in-all-but-blood.

“You died, Crowe. You died and there was nothing I could do to stop it.” Nyx sobbed; the words slightly garbled considering his face was mashed into Libertus’ shoulder. “A-and Libertus left, and then everything just, went to hell and then some, the city was attacked-“

He broke off, unable to put the rest of what he’d seen and lived into words.

“Look, hero, you know what I’m capable of, right?” Crowe said reassuringly, after a silent minute, slowly carding her fingers through his hair. “Whatever it was that your subconsciousness cooked up, it won’t happen, alright?”

“It-“ Nyx choked up, the words he desperately wanted to say lodged in his throat.

“I’ve called you in as sick, so the Commander won’t be all up our collective asses when you don’t show up for duty for the rest of the day.” Libertus said, patting Nyx on the shoulder. Nyx felt like he should be flinching from that, even though he knew that there wasn’t any kingly power burning its way through his body. Yet. “Come on, you should get some rest. Proper rest, after I get you something to eat. I’ll be here, though Crowe needs to go prepare for that mission of hers. We can see her off in the morning.”

The meal that Libertus cooked up an hour later tasted like ash in his mouth, and as Nyx was herded to bed, he couldn’t help but think that he had failed, once again. But he couldn’t go after Crowe, not now, not when Libertus was already keeping a cautious eye on him, not when all they knew was that he just had a panic attack, and a dream terrible enough to spark it.

And on top of all that, he had no idea what to do now, not when he knew that Libertus and Crowe probably wouldn’t believe him at this point, not when he’d made everything out to be just a bad dream. He’d had some sort of grand plan, to convince Crowe to not go on that mission, in the hope that it’d derail at least part of the Empire’s plan, derail it enough to give him time to figure out how the hell else he’d be putting a spanner into the rest of their planned invasion.

That plan, at least for now, was in utter shambles.

Now that he thought about it, actually thought about it, there were so many things that would eventually lead to the fall of Insomnia.

Crowe’s death, which would fracture the Kingsglaive even further than what the initial ceasefire announcement had done.

Lunafreya’s arrival, and subsequent kidnapping, which would be the bait that would draw the loyal Kingsglaive to their doom at the hands of the traitors, and signal the initial attack on Insomnia.

The theft of the Crystal and the fall of the Wall, which, he still didn’t know exactly how that had even happened.

The whole mess with the – rebels? Faction? – that Libertus had joined the other two times, the ones who had bombed the signing ceremony.

The death of King Regis, which would inevitably ruin much of their chances to stop the invasion, because it would mean that no one would have their borrowed magic anymore to help them against the forces of Niflheim.

How to deal with those giant daemon weapons withoutbringing forth the Old Wall, an act that would cause a decent amount of destruction in itself.

And General Glauca, that traitorous Commander of the Kingsglaive who was, Nyx admitted, quite possibly the greatest threat to everything he held dear at this point.

He could deal with rescuing the Princess, having done it twice already. Could probably even deal with the traitorous Glaives, hell, he knew at least Luche and Tredd were in on it, and if he took those two out then the others would lose a good part of their leadership.

But how in hell was he going deal with everything else? Nyx wondered, not a little desperate, as exhaustion finally set in, and he fell unwillingly into a fitful sleep.

He woke again, sometime in the evening, eyes tracing the cracks along his ceiling as he tried to parse his racing thoughts. There was just so much to do, so much he had to stop or fix before the Empire burned the city to the ground.

Well, he eventually thought, a little sardonically, I could always just knock Luche out now, and maybe he won’t kill Crowe tomorrow.

He sat bolt upright at that thought, and tried not to fall out of the damn bed in his haste. He fumbled blindly for his boots, and looked around for something heavy enough to give someone a bad concussion. The frying pan hanging on the rack above the shitty little stove, still a bit damp after Libertus had washed it, looked like it would do nicely.

He couldn’t kill Luche yet, even if every bit of him really wanted to do so. It’d probably de-rail things to the point that his foreknowledge would be rendered completely useless, and he hadn’t yet come up with ideas on how to deal with the next few days to make that murder as feasible as he wanted.

But he could just. Make sure that Luche wouldn’t be able to kill Crowe, or at least he’d be able to give Crowe a better chance at surviving the ambush, if he couldn’t convince her not to go in the morning.

Nodding to himself, he opened his door, preparing to march down the hallway and bait Luche into sticking his head out so he could bash it in with roughly three kilograms of steel. Fortunately, no one appeared to be outside of their own flats, though considering it was late in the evening by now, that was unsurprising.

He knew Luche had a habit of sleeping early if he had the opportunity to do so, so Nyx was fairly certain that if he knocked on the man’s door now, Luche shouldn’t be aware enough to register it was Nyx holding the frying pan before it hit him.

Sure enough, Luche opened his door with bleary eyes, and Nyx had a moment of vicious satisfaction watching the man crumple to the ground with a single hit of the pan. Now that Luche was unconscious, and not dead (there was a pulse, Nyx had checked), all that was left to do was shove him somewhere in his own apartment and hopefully have him out of commission for the next day at least.

“Uh, Nyx?”

Nyx looked up from where he was dragging the surprisingly heavy Luche the rest of the way into the apartment. Libertus was standing there, one crutch held limply in his hand.

“This…isn’t what it looks like, Lib.” Nyx winced, as Libertus looked incredulously at where Nyx was holding onto Luche’s limp arm.

“Is it?!” Libertus’ voice somehow reached another octave, as he cautiously approached Nyx.

“Look, this is going to sound incredibly crazy, but would you believe me if I told you that Luche is a traitor and he’s going to try to kill us all, except for the fact that I just knocked him unconscious.”

Libertus’ expression told him that no, Libertus didn’t believe him, and also that Nyx was…probably in some deep shit now.

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

Nyx awoke, for the fourth time, in his bed, in his flat, a burning ember of phantom pain deep in his chest, clutching at where the piece of the collapsing hospital ceiling had stabbed right through him.

Well, he thought, somewhat hysterically, that could’ve gone better. Much better.

#ffxv #ff15 #ffxv fanfiction #final fantasy xv #ffxv kingsglaive #nyx ulric #carminite writes #in which i decide that i'm gonna make nyx suffer for more than 3k words #we'll eventually get to the Good Ending (TM)#just...not yet #Running Onwards (A Timelooping Nyx AU)

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hunterartemis · 3 years

Text

Media Bias (Avengers X Alien!Reader)

It was a request from anonymous reader and since I have limited experience with tagging, I am going to quote the person’s request here:

“ Hi can you please do Avengers x reader where the reader is like Starfire from og teen titans (but the reader is green and the blasts are blue) and the Avengers go on a talk show and the host is being very mean to her. Thanks”

So, dear anonymous. I hope you enjoy!“

Words: a whopping 4100

Y/n, open the door” I heard Sam thudding away on my door as I buried myself in the layers of blanket and put the air condition humid enough to cause a mini monsoon.

“Go away Wilson and leave me alone--” I bellowed on top of my voice.

“Y/n it’s been more than 7 hrs, you got to come out... whatever happened in the morning you gotta let it go--”

“I don’t wanna let it go... I am a national embarrassment--”

You must be thinking, what is the situation you’ve been dragged into. Let me pause there and rewind 17 hours back to give you a complete understanding which lead to this complete mess.

People think our story ended and sealed with Thanos never got to see what we go through in the New York penthouse. With the ongoing Pandemic on board, people are desperate to see us even more, as if it is the new Thanos and we are to defeat it. There is no greater sense of helplessness than playing the puppet of courage without doing anything. So whoever wrote that “after the defeat of big bad, the heroes rejoice” was a big idiot.

And thus, I found myself awake after hours, sitting alongside the broad glass panel that showed the completely stopped-in-time, shining in the dark cityscape of once bustling New York. A fleeting sense of desolation plagued me as I remember my own world in the verge of extinction. My breath almost stopped in the great worry of my fellow living being in this planet; the one who saved me from destitution--

“y/n, is that you?”A calm and concerned paternal voice broke the train of my thought. I sharply looked behind my shoulder to see a disheveled figure of man standing in the dark. By the tousled curls and the slouched hem of the sweatpants, I knew was Bruce.

“Urh, you startled me!” I said with a dismissive voice. I felt almost embarrassed to realize what I was thinking moments ago. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself.

“It’s you who startled me y/n, what are you doing up so late?” Bruce said with a groggy voice rubbing his eyes rather irritatingly. “We have an important event to attend tomorrow first thing in the morning” he slowly moved towards from the shadowy part of the room to the path of dimmed light from the glass panel and spared a long glance at my face. The way he looked at me sometimes irritated me, because it was an inalienable fact that he fell into the same category of humans who express an unhealthy obsession with my kind: a scientist.

“It’s not like I enjoy staying up like you Lowly Human...I am as stressed for tomorrow as you are!” I tore my face from his ken to express my displeasure. In reply, he sighed disappointedly, which sounded patronizing in my already agitated mind.

“I wish you’d stop insulting my specie whenever you get upset...” he gently put his hand in my shoulder, but soon he withdrew and stepped back. “And what is that god-awful smell?”

Any female whether she is human or not is very sensitive to criticism, especially about how she appears, thus Bruce’s comment was not only offensive but hurtful as well. I could not restrain my anger and annoyance anymore, and I stood up sharply to face him “I just happen to wet myself in the rain yesterday at my detour downtown and it turns out it has too much sulphuric acid and it is peeling my skin away... right before when I am about to go up close on television.” My hand subconsciously moved up to my cheek, where flakes were forming in my otherwise jade smooth skin. “And you are telling me to stop insulting your specie... I will when you unicellular cretins will stop ruining your own environment—“ I folded my arms defensively, gazing away from Bruce’s face “--as if I don’t get ridiculed enough for my chrorophyllic skintone, and now I am shedding like a common reptile.”

“Alright alright I am sorry...” Bruce threw up his arms defensively, and his small paces back and forth showed his discomfort more than anything, “do you want something for your skin, CeraVe or something? I can fetch you some ice if you want?”

His apologetic gesture made my whole effort defeated; but my pride disrupted me from being apologetic “Forget it... as if those human manures would work on my skin—“ I heaved a sigh and looked at him again “must we do the thing? I mean I am not the only alien that set foot on earth in this decade, why must I be walked around like a showdog in front of all the people?”

For some moments Bruce did not answer me. I almost thought he was ignoring me, but then I realised that he must be contemplating on every word he wanted to say and every word that was running through his brilliant mind. Out of anyone in the team, Bruce was the visual hole, the less than heroic material: even with the Hulk. And for this, the society made sure that he would be self conscious for the rest of his life for his other identity. My annoyance almost melted to sympathy when I heard him speak in a rather frustrated voice.

“Y/N, I know that you are stressed about this and frankly I hate this stuff too, but this is very important for the people: for your people as well as ours. Not all things that come from the space are benign and people need reassurance that you are not hostile. I hate this too, but it is for the greater good!”

“Greater good, greater good... it is always for the greater good!” The same old daily whining of lofty agenda made me sick “I am sick and tired of these Brucie, I don’t want to do this anymore... I am tired about people asking me weird questions and cretins posing as scientists trying to push probes on me the first chances they get-- I wish I could just disappear with the portal that brought me in this cursed place!“

Bruce came closer and grabbed my shoulders gently “Don’t say that y/n... otherwise we wouldn’t have the means to counterattack all those aliens—“ my silence might have given him the cue that he wasn’t doing a very good job at convincing. His wavering eyes fixed on my face once again as he spoke “okay, here is a deal: how about it is the last time you appear in public, hm? Once you satisfy them that you are part of the team, I swear people will leave you alone... they left the Hulk alone too once they understood that he is one of the good guys!”

“No but...“

“No ifs and buts... go, and have some sleep. Let me look in the lab if we have some squalanes and peptide solutions lying around—“ he said with a paternal affection and disappeared into the dark passage which lead to his room

“Thanks Brucie you are the best—“

I couldn’t help but to smile a little. Humans!

...

“This is a bad idea I am telling you--“ I told Bruce with an hushed tone as the makeup artist went on with a puff on my face for the millionth times. The rest of my team was behind me, getting the same attentions to their dismay. I could tell Bucky was downright uncomfortable as his makeup artist had a hard time getting not distracted by his bionic arm; and Wanda was downright glaring at the man who kept flicking the brush on her nose.

“relax y/n, you are smart and you are friendly, you are going to ace this and trust me people are going to love you--“ Bruce said with gritted teeth to make sure no one could tell what he was saying. He almost flinched as some of the powder made into his nose and the makeup artist followed him up with a q-tip.

“My face is itchy...“ I whispered again, trying not to gouge my face out with my nails as the powder sat on the flaky part of the cheek. If this wasn’t a studio I would have scratched my face like a lunatic and ended up as someone who was attacked by a bear in the mountains. And I was glad that I was standing beside Bruce who knew how not to go overboard with the things. Clint would have brushed them off, Wanda and Bucky would have panicked, and Sam’s gestures no matter how genuine would have made me laugh.

“Wanda already told the makeup artist to spray you with Squalane, your face isn’t half as bad as it were yesterday night“ Bruce then went on politely gesturing the makeup artist to spray the stuff Bruce brought from the lab in a clear bottle, and the look on the Makeup Artist’s face was between annoyance and bursting into tears.

“Brucie...“ “I don’t wanna mess it up--“ I said nervously as we walked into the couch and settled with the others.

“Trust me you won’t... “ Bruce graciously consoled me.

The cameraman cued and we were all gestured to look into the main camera as the lights in front of us adjusted accordingly. Within all hustle and bustle, the host walked in like a royalty, and by the looks of his face and those following him with makeup and refreshment, he had a really bad morning.

“We will go on air in 3, 2 and 1”

“Good Morning America, this is your host Justin Fallon and welcome to another episode of The Early Show. Today we have with us some really special guests. You might know them from News, the murals, the comics and the Merchs please welcome our own global superheroes: The Avengers. Welcome to our show” the host said with an uncomfortable friendliness and turned towards us.

"Thanks for having us with you" Sam answered graciously, with a little awkwardness. I could understand why; it was always Tony, Steve and Natasha who spoke in public. After such a terrible loss, he is struggling to fill up their shoes for the sake of our public image. He had been wrapped up into a pretty bad controversy recently for succeeding as Captain America and it had a pretty bad toll on him—to the point his speech kind of went from cheerful to composed in an unnatural way.

"It’s been way too long since our morning couch looked so colorful and it surely brightens up the day.” The host said with an obligatory politeness. Although the term was innocent enough but it seemed not so—I instantly froze up and million things started flying inside my head: was I looking good enough, is my patches showing under the layers of power and squalane. Turns out it was not me alone. From the corner of my eye I could sense the tension behind me from Clint and Bucky and I know it was different than mine. The host must have wanted the old team, and looked like he was stuck with the mediocre leftovers.

“Thank you...“ Sam replied.

“So here you guys are after averting the big wipeout crisis, in the quiet and chilling, so how does it feel to be in the pensive from being hyperactive all the time?“

“Well, at first it did feel kind of boring and lack luster, but slowly we are adjusting to it. With the ongoing Pandemic crisis I think we just have to adjust to the situation. In a way, I think we are all helping each other by staying inside and recuperating.” Sam answered diplomatically.

“That’s so nice” the interviewer said quite curtly and then changing the topic he sharply turned to Doctor Banner “I know of all you people Dr. Banner will find this Lockdown Leisure slightly more comforting, isn’t that so Doctor Banner?”

Wait, what was that? Was that even normal? Sam was sitting in the front and after him Bucky, then Wanda and then Bruce. Should not he come gradually? Breathe... maybe I am reading too much into this. Keep a friendly face, don’t think too much... the entire nation is watching... this is the one time I have to do things right! It’s for me, my team who housed me and my people.

I had to give props to Bruce for managing things calmly despite his claims about public speaking. He politely replied “Well theoretically it should be but it’s not like causes of anger cannot exist within the so called peaceful environment if you think about it, but I am glad you showed your concern” and like a pro, reached out to the glass in front of him to sip some water—like some real celebs in talk shows.

“Isn’t that true! So Solaris, how does it feel to be surrounded by the icons of the earth?”

I wasn’t really ready for the sudden attention. For a second I blanked out completely and gaped my mouth like a complete idiot. My stupefied face must have been quite prominent because the host tried to laugh it off lightly to divert the attention. I am still wrapping my head around the fact how some humans work so beautifully under so much attention—If I could choose between blasting off alien armies and speaking in talk shows, I will take the aliens instead.

“I..I--It’s quite fun... there is never a dull moment with them--“ I manage to utter, and thankfully it wasn’t a gurgling sound from a deep abyss.

“The thing is, being the most newest member, you sort of have a mystery around you, the kind of a Blue Comet sort--“

“Oh thank you— “ great going me, like a real talk show celeb—keep it up!

“So why don’t we break that down... Solaris, is that true that you came from a whole another galaxy which is not Milky Way?” the Talk show host asked, reading from a small piece of card.

Finally, something I can talk about all day: stars, planets and galaxy. I will have to slay this, I chanted inside and replied after drawing a breath “Yes that’s true. I am from Planet Auriga from Pleiades system. Our Sun is Alcyone, the second brightest star right after Aldebaran. You people call our system Taurus Constellation--”

“--so much astrophysics, take notes kids they might ask you at the NASA interview.“ the talk show host interrupted. It annoyed me greatly because I could finish the words I worked so hard to speak confidently. So that’s how Bruce must feel all the time when people interrupted him when he explains things. However the host went on as if nothing happened “For a near human creature in this planet, do you identify more with the Professor X’s troop or with the Avengers?”

Near human creature? My race is literally the most Superior in all of galaxy.

“I don’t really understand what you mean...” I said as politely as I could manage.

“I mean isn’t it hard to fit in when you are the only alien in the group--“

The flippant remark was rude and I tried not to wrap my head around it. I recalled Bruce’s words to keep cool and maintain a neutral face replied : “I mean I am not the only one, Thor is also not of the earth and he is a darling to be around. Alien or not I think I have learned a lot about myself and the ways of earth by spending time with this wonderful people?“

I could hear the audience clapping and cheering with my reply. A surge of pride swept across my chest and I smiled slightly at the audience.

“How sweet--“ the host said, keeping with the cheerful mood “as the outer world people are coming into the planets, we think a lot of things are shifting, do you find it hard to cope into the earth from where you come from--“

Finally, a thoughtful question, I made a solid eye contact with the host and replied “No, the atmosphere is pretty much the same in Auriga, but I think humans can do a lot better taking care of the environment. I know for a fact that millions of planets and their lifeforms were extinct because of excesses I see on earth.”

The thoughtfulness of the host was only for so long “The girl’s been around... if you know what I mean—“ he commented with a little wink, and from the audience’s laugh I knew he didn’t mean something polite or mildly positive. After the laughter subsided, he turned again to me “I dig the midnight blue hair... it is so contradictory and yet it works“ he complimented “because you know scale and hair are not something we see very often in our planet--“

Excuse me, what was that supposed to mean?

“--so tell me are the lapis cascades all natural? I mean they are not dyed at all?”

“No they are not... the special keratin bond that reflect the blue pigment of the natural light but they are actually transparent—“ I added objectively.

“So that means in the right lighting you don’t need to mow the bush—“ the host said with a curved smile on his lips, and the audience went on laughing in the same manner they did moments ago.

Even under the blowing airconditioner, I started t feel really warm around my neck “I really don’t know what you mean; you are making any sense at all! Do you guys need special light to mow the bush, do you do in the solstices or during the eclipses—“ this time I didn’t hide the fact that I was annoyed.

“--she is really really funny you guys--“ the host again smiled and acted like I was a stone wall and my reaction didn’t register in his mind at all. “So you are saying you don’t mow your bush at all?“

“I live in a New York Penthouse, there is no bush--“ honestly if this wasn’t a dumb talk show, I would have taught this impudent human a lesson.

The host looked a little uncomfortable as our eye contact lasted for several seconds. He cleared his throat and went on “Okay you guys, she just clarified that there is no bush, so let’s move on to your...your look... I am so fascinated by it, it’s so reptile chic--“

What’s your fascination with cold blooded animals? Are you asking to die like one?

“Um, thanks...?!”

“So how do you manage to maintain this--“

That was honestly the last straw. This host is impolite and rude and he leeches off the discomfort of his talk show host. When this realisation hit, all my self-control and self preservation went out of the window. The vacuum was replaced by the sheer annoyance towards the host who deliberately mistreated us since the beginning.

“Do you think that’s how I live, maintaining my skin and mowing the bush--“ my pitch rose from my previous composed tone “I mean what kind of questions are these?“

The host was still wearing his phony smile on his face, but I could see the colour slightly draining off his face “No I was just asking, because the audience wants to know--“

“I think the audience is smart enough to understand that they cannot get the green skin on natural blue hair, so can you move on to a more sensible question?“ I answered heatedly and defensively at the same time, and as I spoke I felt the aura of tension shifting from discomfort to sheer panic.

“Y/n... don’t do this--” I heard Bucky whisper very faintly from above.

“Solaris, don’t get me wrong, but we don’t always get a green-skin hottie on the morning couch, don’t be offended!” he said while he gestured covertly to cut the camera on the other side. I have to give this man an applause , I could tell he had busted all his courage but he kept the face of nonchalance too good to be true—no wonder he sat on this chair for so long.

“What’s your obsession with the skin colour?—“ I said heatedly as I stood up from my seat “Don’t you dare cut the camera... don’t you dare! Do you think you humans are the epitome of beauty from which point everyone in the galaxy should confirm? I am sick of this... Everyone, I am so sorry for your wasted time but no more of this!”

“Solaris--“ this time it was Sam’s voice that implored me from the sides. For a split second I felt bad for him, because as Captain America, he would have to take the heat from the public. But I was at the point of no return. If I back out now, I would be called a pushover and I would have to endure that image for the rest of my life in the earth.

“You know what, as you are so obsessed with my looks, I would love to show you another thing of mine that is blue--”

Blast

So long story short, Solaris goes to a morning talk show, Solaris encounters a rude host and Solaris blasts him with her Blue Sun Beam. Biggest disaster ever!

The thudding outside the door would not stop, and honestly their over attention was getting on my nerves “honestly, why don’t you go away... what are you, my royal nanny?”

“Very funny Solaris... now come out and get some food--” this time it was Bucky who spoke. Although he was the shortest to reply, but it made me well up. He had the shittiest history amongst all of us: hunted, betrayed, manipulated and now sidelined—how can I see my problems bigger than him.

“How can I... I ruined everything, all the reputation you built throughout the year, I blew it up within 3 minutes, how can I show my face to you guys! I was supposed to be the superior being--“

A moment of silence followed. But then the old familiar calm voice spoke from the other side

“y/n... It’s not about superior or inferior, you were just very very honest with your feeling! sometimes it’s good for the public, sometimes it is not. I mean look at me--I have struggling with my anger all my life and god knows the stuff I have wrecked in Hulk state. It’s okay to make a mistake... no one blames you!”

“Ha ha right...“ I replied sarcastically, feeling mad about how well Bruce understood my situation.

“Honestly, the way you acted today... Tony would have been proud!”

I could not hold myself anymore. All the feeling that has been plaguing me until now: embarrassment, guilt, confusion, sadness... all came down like a thundering rain with that one statement. I rushed and slammed the door open and jumped on Bruce to embrace him into a tight hug. At first I could tell Bruce was taken aback, but soon his firm arms snaked under my back to hold me tightly.

“I am so sorry... I ruined you all--“ I hid my face in Bruce’s shoulder. Suddenly I felt a gentle pat on my back, I straightened up and looked, it was Sam. His awkward cautionary expression was gone and he looked cherry as the old days “As Captain America, I cannot condone your behaviour, but as Sam... well, that jerk deserved it--“ he reached for his pocket and took out his cellphone “and hundred thousand people in New York agree with you“

I looked at him with a curious expression as he gave me his phone. When I looked at it, it was a tabloid video that had the clip of me blasting the host and it had—

“Stars in galaxies!... 100K likes?” I exclaimed

“And look down, there are comments too--” Bucky scrolled down from behind my shoulder to descend to the white space.

That jerk deserves it, he was literally harassing her...You go Solaris #MeToo

Solaris is so cool, I wish I was as cool as her.

Ugh, I hate that morning show host, if I was in her place I would have thrown him off the stark tower, #SunQueen

Racists never change, and We stan our color positive hero #SolarisRocks

Humans...

...

Okay, that took a lot of time because at first I didn’t know how to work on the request, then I had to go back and forth and rewrite most of it two times because I wasn’t convinced it was good. So I sincerely hope it’s good because I am freaked out as hell.

I also gave reader a name because she is inspired by an alien character in TeenTitans called “Starfire”. So I call her Solaris, and was constantly reminded of Solar of Mamamoo (TMI)

I don’t hate on Fallon, I just used his name because it is recognisable by American public and I also had to see a lot of Jimmy Fallon’s show to write about the Talk Show plot. I was also greatly inspired by Naomi Campbell, RDJ and Nicki Minaj’s interviews.

#avengers x reader #alien reader #skin color #teen titans og #starfire inspired #yay I got a request #rude talk show imagine #avengers x reader imagine

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt22

hello!!! thank you all for your very kind words i super appreciate you :) happy reading! (u ask i deliver)

pt1

pt21

pt23

A lot of her time was spent enduring criticism from generals, noblemen, and other advisors on how to run the country. Each idea she had was continuously shot down. She knew they were only taking advantage of Zuko’s absence, but their blind defiance of her made her angry. She was only trying to help! Why couldn’t they see that?

The exciting things always seemed to happen while (Y/N) was asleep. She woke to a commotion happening outside of her door. Blinking the sleepiness from her eyes, she slipped on her robe and slippers and peered her head outside of her room. She watched Azula dart past and Zuko running closely after her. (Y/N) blinked, rubbing her eyes once more to confirm that was what she saw. Sure enough, Azula was running down the halls of the palace, laughing hysterically as she did so.

Her presence made no sense to (Y/N). Azula was supposed to be in prison, locked away so tightly that she couldn’t bring harm to anyone. So why was she running around the palace?

The event had surprised (Y/N) enough to wake her up. She ran down the hall after the two siblings, following them out of the palace, down through the gardens, and into a side building whose purpose she had never been sure of. She reached the two just in time to see Azula shut herself behind a door that could only be opened using firebending. Silently, she and Zuko used their bending to open the doors.

The heavy wood parted, revealing a secret study that obviously belonged to Ozai, if the portrait of him above the fireplace was any indication. Azula was at the back of the room, rifling through a chest before popping back up with an, “Aha!” She clutched thin pieces of paper in her pale hands. Turning around, she flashed a smile at (Y/N).

“Oh, Zuzu, you didn’t tell me (Y/N) was going to be here! I’ve been looking forward to catching up with her.”

“What are you doing, Azula?” (Y/N) demanded. Azula ignored her, instead focusing on Zuko.

“Father and I have been getting along very nicely since we’ve been in prison. He even told me about these letters,” She fanned herself with the pages. “That Mother wrote before she was banished. They might be the key to you finding her.”

“Give them to me.” Zuko stretched out his hand, practically begging his sister. “Azula, please.” The girl stared at him for a moment before the letters went up in blue flames. She laughed as she saw the horrified expression on their faces.

“Relax, I know everything that was in these letters. Which is why if you want to find our mother, you’ll have to do it on my terms.”

“No,” (Y/N) said immediately. Zuko stared at her, his face contorted in confusion. “All she wants is to play games, Zuko, don’t let her. We can find your mother another way.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll be able to,” Azula drawled, leaning against the large wooden desk of the study. “Not from what Father told me.”

“Azula always lies!” (Y/N) hissed at Zuko. He looked from (Y/N) to Azula, then back to (Y/N).

“I have to trust her,” Zuko said quietly. “Just this once.”

“You won’t regret this, Zuzu,” Azula smiled. “Now, my stipulations. I must accompany you, of course, unbound. No restraints whatsoever.”

Zuko ground his teeth. “Fine.”

(Y/N) flung her hands into the air and let out an exasperated sigh before leaving the room. She passed Suki and Ty Lee, who were no doubt on their way to restrain Azula for the time being. Zuko quickly chased after her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked once he had caught up with her, grabbing her by her forearm.

“She’s playing you, Zuko!” She exclaimed. “She doesn’t really care about you, or finding your mother.”

“I have to give her another chance.”

“Why? It’s not like she deserves it! She almost killed the both of us the last time we saw her!”

“Azula’s my family, (Y/N). You gave me another chance. I have to give her one, too.”

(Y/N) stared up at him. His amber eyes glimmered in the moonlight. He had shown her that everyone was capable of great change. But she couldn’t bring herself to award the same sympathy to Azula. The last time they had seen each other, Azula had nearly killed Zuko. If Katara hadn’t been there to heal him, he would have died. She wasn’t sure if that was something she could forgive.

“Come with me to find her,” Zuko pleaded. (Y/N) looked past him to see Suki and Ty Lee leading Azula back into the palace. She remembered Zuko hitting the ground and Azula’s wicked laugh. She shook her head.

“I understand and support you finding your mother, but I can’t be around her. It wouldn’t end well and I don’t want to ruin the reunion.”

“I get it.” She could see the disappointment lingering on his features. It made her feel incredibly guilty, but she new she had to protect herself. It wasn’t a good idea to put her and Azula together after everything that had happened.

She gave Zuko a half smile before returning to bed.

---

Zuko left a few days later, accompanied with Azula and their friends. (Y/N) was saddened that she might miss out on another adventure, but she knew it was for the best. After all, someone had to run the Fire Nation in Zuko’s absence.

After a particularly grueling argument with another general on the state of the world, (Y/N) had decided that she would like to spend the rest of her day sitting by the turtle duck pond. She brought a book and read under the big tree while eating an apple. Perhaps it was the physical and emotional distance between them, but (Y/N) missed Zuko when he was gone. Meetings flew by easier with him at her side. She had more patience for the old men that tried to argue with her.

A shadow appeared, blocking the sunlight from shining on (Y/N’s) book. She squinted up at the figure and recognized it as Ren, the son of one of the Earth Kingdom noblemen that had been particularly difficult with her today. Diplomats tended to bring their children along with them on important meetings so that they would better understand how they went when it came time for them to attend on their own. “Can I help you?” She asked.

“I’m Ren,” He said, extending his hand to her. She shook it slowly. “I just wanted to introduce myself to you and apologize for the way my father behaved today.”

“It’s alright,” She said with a shrug, taking another bite of her apple. “He wasn’t the first to be mean to me and he certainly won’t be the last.”

“May I sit?” He asked, gesturing to the grass beside her. She gave a noncommittal shrug, which he took as a yes. “I really liked your idea about holding a festival to promote unity in the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom.”

(Y/N) tilted her head. “How’d you get into the palace?”

“I’ve been here since the meeting. You left too quickly for me to talk to you, so I asked the servants where you were until one of them led me to you.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I promise I’m not trying to be weird, I just really wanted to let you know that you have someone rooting for you from the other side.”

She let out a small smile. “Well thank you, Ren, I appreciate that.” He smiled brightly at her before standing.

“I should probably get going, but I’ll be at the meeting tomorrow if you’ll be there?”

“When the Fire Lord’s out of town, I’m at every meeting.” He gave a quick nod before bowing and walking off of the palace grounds. She watched him as his figure retreated into a small blip on the horizon. What a weird guy.

As weeks progressed without Zuko’s return, Ren found more and more ways to worm his way into (Y/N’s) time. He would talk to her after every meeting and reassure her that the points she had made were smart and discussed very eloquently. He seemed genuine in his compliments, which made (Y/N) feel nice on the inside. She felt her confidence in meetings improve, as long as Ren was there to give her a big smile and thumbs up when no one was looking.

She liked to think that she helped him out, too. When they weren’t in meetings, they discussed ways to make their nations better. She let him know what might be well received by the other diplomats, which allowed him to come out of his shell a bit more during meetings. Some days, when they weren’t supposed to meet, she would invite Ren to sit under the big tree with her and feed the turtle ducks.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve never really hung out with anyone from the Fire Nation before,” Ren admitted one day as he tossed a slice of bread into the pond. The turtle ducks and their babies all swam toward it, instantly devouring it.

“I’ve never really hung out with anyone from the Earth Kingdom before, other than Toph. But she’s her own special brand of person.”

“Really? Not even when you were sent there?” She shrugged.

“My parents never wanted me to go outside of our house. I had to sneak out to see what the city was really like. But I never got to hang out with anyone and just be myself.”

“So they just kept you locked in all day?” She nodded. “Man, I didn’t think being engaged to the Fire Lord would stink that bad, but I guess so.”

(Y/N) stared at him, her brows furrowed. “I’m not engaged to the Fire Lord.” Ren stared back, confused.

“Really? You’re always in all of our meetings, I just assumed that you were preparing to be queen.” (Y/N) scoffed.

“I guess you’re not too far off. Zuko and I used to be betrothed or whatever, but that all got thrown out the window when he was banished. I’m just his friend that helps him handle all of his Fire Lord duties.”

“Oh,” Ren said, tossing another piece of bread into the pond. “Just to confirm, you and Fire Lord Zuko aren’t together?” She shook her head. “Then it wouldn’t be a problem if I asked to take you out on a date this weekend?”

(Y/N) analyzed him for a moment. Her heart had told her for the longest time that it belonged to Zuko, but maybe she just needed to find someone who could change that. And here was a cute, funny guy that she enjoyed spending her time with. She should take a chance.

“I don’t think that’d be a problem at all.”

---

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#atla #avatar #the last airbender #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #aang x reader #katara #toph #iroh #zuko #sokka #aang #momo #appa #azula #suki #writing #fanfiction

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