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rent-a-bat · 3 years

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Drabble #2

Promt: #100 “I’m yours”

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Requests open

A/N: I may have gone a bit overboard with this one, but once I started I couldn't stop. Just beware, this is full of angst, I tried to make this happier for him, but you know how it is.

I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

You were sitting on your bed.

The same place you've been for the last 12 hours. You haven't moved since you got there, haven't even eaten, the knot in your stomach making it impossible to keep something down or think about food and the knot at the back of your throat, too busy keeping the water from your eyes to do the same with another.

The clock marked 3 in the morning, which meant you only had 4 hours left if you wanted to rest before work. If you wanted. You weren’t sure you wanted to work tomorrow, you weren’t sure what you wanted at all. Not since that last text.

Your work at the Bank of Gotham had you busy for the last few weeks, and today you could finally get home early, free to enjoy the weekend, not that you wanted it that much. Jason had been out on a mission for three weeks now, making the extra hours at work feel like a blessing if it meant not going back to the apartment you both shared, cold without his presence. Long missions always made you worry, not knowing how he was and if he was okay. In his line of work there were always risks, you both knew it well, too well.

After changing out of your work clothes and making you dinner, you finally sat down on the couch and relaxed, keeping you busy with Netflix before going to bed. A few minutes into your second episode, your phone rang. Groaning internally, hoping it was nothing work related, you opened the message to a picture and a single question.

The force with which your hand gripped your phone you were sure was gonna break it. The message showed a photo of Jason, arm in arm with another girl, a pretty girl, walking into one of the jewelry stores on the other side of town, and the question “Is this your guy?”, right at the bottom. The text came from one of your coworkers and friends, so you were sure it wasn't just some random person trying to hurt you.

It hit you like a bucket of water. You knew Jason had friends, all kinds of friends, doing what he does is part of the job, even if sometimes his personality didn't help. So you knew about them, boys and girls he could call that, he’s talked about them. And that was the thing, you talked. Talking has always been an important part of your relationship and it wasn't just talking, it was about building trust. You always talked the truth, you had agreed on that since day one, since he decided to trust you with his secret identity, letting you choose between staying with him, or leaving, trusting you with that knowledge and that you'd keep it safe, regardless of your choice. That's why telling you everything was crucial if you were dating a vigilante, if you were dating him, being truthful with each other, which meant telling you what you needed before missions, how long he'd be out, if he could talk and if he would be going with someone, it was his way of showing you he cared, that he loved you.

And last time you talked he was still on a mission, out of Gotham, but he had assured you he was coming home before Monday, so seeing this on Friday wasn't something you could easily take.

The buzz of your phone took you out of the hole your mind was heading. Your friend had followed him inside and the photos they sent were like a stab to the heart, each digging deeper and deeper until you were sure your heart was bleeding right there. He was smiling, broad and unbashful while she was trying pieces of jewelry. And the girl, she was pretty, younger than you, her dark hair a compliment of his and her small frame made them look like a perfect pair. She looked comfortable with him, the way someone did when they knew the person, the kind that took time, or trust. You were sure you weren't the jealous type, but the way he smiled, how he seemed to be laughing with her, it reminded you so much of the way he did the same with you. The ease of their relationship, different from yours.

You couldn't finish your food after that, you went straight to your room and sat on your bed, the loneliness of your home now fitting to how you felt, which took you to now. You didn't want to believe that, not wanted to believe that, so you stayed up thinking about it, what to do, how to broach it. You needed to hear the truth from him.

Ignoring the time, you reached for your drawer, taking out the burner phone he had given you for whenever you wanted to talk when he was out.

Minutes passed before you finally pressed the calling button, each ring on par with the beat of your heart until you heard the sound of his voice as he answered.

“Hello, y/n.” The softness in his voice when he said your name was threatening to unravel the knot you were trying so hard to keep at bay.

“Hello, Jay.” your voice was barely a whisper, fearing the tears might come out if you spoke louder and make him worry. But even if you tried you couldn't keep him from noticing it.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen?” His concern was making everything harder, were it not for the photos, you would have been sure it was real.

“Nothing happened, just.., I was missing you, that's all.” You tried to keep your posture. “Hey, Jay? When are you coming back?”

“Uhmm, I'm not sure y/n. The mission with B. is taking longer than I thought, uh, I'm not really sure when I'll be back. I'm sorry.” Lies. They were all lies. He had lied to you.

“It’s fine” The control you had was breaking. “Please, stay safe.” You needed to end the call. “I love you” Now.

“I love you too, y/n”

The moment the call ended you finally broke. The one thing you promised, shattered by mere words. You cried until your throat hurt, you cried until your eyes burned and every breath came harder than the other. You cried until it was the last thing you did before falling asleep.

You called in sick the next day. You didn't want anyone to see you, and if he was really back, you didn't want to see him.

The home you had both shared now felt wrong. Its walls pressing on you, telling you how you were no longer his, no longer welcomed. You had to get out.

You took out a suitcase from the bottom of your bed. His bed now. Quickly filling it with enough things to last you until you could find a new place, for now you guessed a hotel was enough, you had enough money saved and a stable job, the only problem was getting a new place in such a short notice.

When you were sure you had everything you might need, you headed to the door. Leaving your suitcase on the floor you turned around to take a last look at the home you had both shared, now just a reminder of what you lost and what he did.

Life must not have been done playing with you, for when you opened the door, the last person you wanted to see appeared in front of you.

"Jason." His name left your lips before you could stop yourself.

"Y/n." Your name said so softly, like he couldn't believe you were really there, it had been a long time after all. He was standing before you, the smile on his face making you hurt all over gain. His fist in midair, like he was about to knock.

"Surprise?" He asked, brows furrowed looking at you and the suitcase on the floor.

"Uhm, did I miss something?"

“I'm leaving” you said, grabbing your suitcase. "I'll be back for the rest later."

"Leaving? Where?" Confusion tinged his voice.

“Look Jay, it's fine. I kno- I know you had your reasons. You just didn't know how to tell me.”

"Y/n, I don't know what you're talking about. Let's go back inside so we can talk about this." He moved, trying to get you both into the apartment. You raised a hand to stop him.

"It's fine. You don't have to do this. I already know."

“What?”

"They saw you, Jason. With… her. Yesterday, remember?" The way his face paled was worse than anything.

"Y/n…"

"So what I'm saying is that I'm leaving, I don't want to interfere with anything. You are free of me. Free to do whatever you want..., or whoever you want."

"No. Y/n, let me explain. That's not… it's not like that." His voice pleading as he reached for you, making you flinch, hurt flashing on his face at that.

He took back his hand, fingers tightening into a fist at his side, stepping back. It pained you seeing him like that, but he had hurt you too.

Gathering all your resolve, you started to talk again before you lost the courage to do so.

"Not like that how, Jason? Not like you were out with someone else? Not like you lied to me about not being here yet? About how the "mission" was taking longer, while all you were doing was going around with someone else?" You huffed, shaking your head, not wanting to look at him. "All I want now, is to leave."

You pushed past him on your way out when a hand on your arm stopped you from moving further.

"Jason, let me go." You said, not daring to look back.

"No. Y/n, just…"

"Please!" You almost shouted, still not looking back.

"Y/n, look!" The tug on your arm and the tone of his voice making you turn around.

On his hand was a single blue box, the other still on your arm, keeping you from leaving.

"What is this?" Your voice wavering as you reached for it.

"Open it." Both of his hands went to his pockets as he stepped back, giving you space while you did it.

Inside the box were a pair of rings, a simple silver band and a smaller more elaborate one with a single gem in the middle. The styles were different but you could tell they were meant to be a pair.

Your confusion must have been clear on your face, as he spoke before you could ask. "It's for you. For... both of us."

Still not understanding you lifted your face to look at him, your eyes landing on his. His expression was clear on his face, he was opening to you, letting you see how vulnerable he was right now, only to you.

"Last mission made me realize how much you mean to me, and how I don't want to be apart from you." He reached to grab your hand, and this time you accepted the gesture, firmly grasping his as you touched.

"And so I hurried to finish early and came back home. I wanted it to be a surprise, that's why I didn't tell you" he rubbed at the back of his head. "But now I see how that wasn't the smartest thing to do. I know we agreed on the truth and I should've told you." He rubbed your fingers as he rushed through his words.

"I'm really sorry, y/n. Please, believe me." That last thing said so low you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close to him.

You pondered through his words, this was the truth, the whole truth, no cover-ups, no white lies, the pure, absolute truth. And you believed him, but the main question remained.

"And the girl… who was she?" You asked slowly.

"Ah…" he covered his face, his ears and cheeks going pink. "She's… my … sister"

You lifted a brow. There's never been a sister.

"You have a sister?"

This was the only thing you never talked about. Family was a hard topic for him, and you respected his privacy. The few things you knew were purely coincidental, occasions where you met his brothers by chance. He introduced you to them and that was that, you knew he would tell you all when he was ready, so now hearing about a sister was a bit shocking, but you understood.

"Her name is Cassandra. Cass. When I told her about you and how I felt, she offered to help me pick something for you" the fondness in his voice warming you up.

"She's not the best at words, but her actions speak a lot, I guess that's why we get along so well."

He looked at you, waiting for you to say something, anything. Instead, you placed the open box back on his hand.

"Would you help me put it on?" Relief washed over him, the smile he gave the brightest of them all. It was full of love, just like the one you gave back.

"I'm yours, y/n" he said as he slipped the ring on your finger. "Now and forever."

"And I'm yours, Jason. Always will be"

A whisper between the two. A promise you both made, sealed with a kiss.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd #red hood #batman #batfam #my writing #jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #dc #dc comics #dc reader insert

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popolitiko · 3 years

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“I Don’t Trust the People Above Me”: Riot Squad Cops Open Up About Disastrous Response to Capitol Insurrection

by Joaquin Sapien and Joshua Kaplan Feb. 12, 2021

U.S. Capitol Police officers deploy pepper ball guns to defend the Capitol against rioters who breached the building on Jan. 6.

Interviews with 19 current and former officers show how failures of leadership and communication put hundreds of Capitol cops at risk and allowed rioters to get dangerously close to members of Congress.

The riot squad defending the embattled entrance to the west side of the U.S. Capitol was surrounded by violence. Rioters had clambered up the scaffolding by the stage erected for the inauguration of President Joseph Biden. They hurled everything they could get their hands on at the cops beneath: rebar, plywood, power tools, even cans of food they had frozen for extra damage.

In front of the cops, a mob was mounting a frontal assault. Its members hit officers with fists and baseball bats. They grabbed at weapons slung from the officers’ waists. They unleashed a barrage of M-80 firecrackers. Soaked in never-ending streams of bright orange bear spray, the officers choked on plumes of acrid smoke that singed their nostrils and obscured their vision.

One officer in the middle of the scrum, a combat veteran, thought the rioters were so vicious, so relentless, that they seemed fueled by methamphetamine. To his left, he watched a chunk of steel strike a fellow officer above the eye, setting off a geyser of blood. A pepper ball tore through the air over his shoulder and exploded against the jaw of a man in front of him. The round, filled with chemical irritant, ripped the rioter’s face open. His teeth were now visible through a hole in his cheek. Blood poured out, puddling on the pavement surrounding the building. But the man kept coming.

The combat veteran was hit with bear spray eight times. His experience overseas "was nothing like this,” he said. “Nothing at all.”

Over the last several weeks, ProPublica has interviewed 19 current and former U.S. Capitol Police officers about the assault on the Capitol. Following on the dramatic video of officers defending the building that House lawmakers showed during the first day of the impeachment trial of former President Donald Trump, the interviews provide the most detailed account to date of a most extraordinary battle.

The enemies on Jan. 6 were Americans: thousands of people from across the country who had descended on the Capitol, intent on stopping Congress from certifying an election they believed was stolen from Trump. They had been urged to attend by Trump himself, with extremist right-wing and militia leaders calling for violence.

Many of the officers were speaking to reporters for the first time about the day’s events, almost all anonymously for fear of retribution. That they spoke at all is an indication of the depth of their frustration over the botched response. ProPublica also obtained confidential intelligence bulletins and previously unreported planning documents.

Combined, the information makes clear how failures of leadership, communication and tactics put the lives of hundreds of officers at risk and allowed rioters to come dangerously close to realizing their threats against members of Congress.

In response to questions for this story, the Capitol Police sent a one-sentence email: “There is a multi-jurisdictional investigation underway and in order to protect that process, we are unfortunately unable to provide any comment at this time.”

The interviews also revealed officers’ concerns about disparities in the way the force prepared for Black Lives Matter demonstrations versus the pro-Trump protests on Jan. 6. Officers said the Capitol Police force usually plans intensively for protests, even if they are deemed unlikely to grow violent. Officers said they spent weeks working 12- or 16-hour days, poised to fight off a riot, after George Floyd was killed by Minneapolis police — even though intelligence suggested there was not much danger from protesters.

“We had intel that nothing was going to happen — literally nothing,” said one former official with direct knowledge of planning for the Black Lives Matter demonstrations. “The response was, ‘We don’t trust the intel.’”

By contrast, for much of the force, Jan. 6 began like any other day.

“We normally have pretty good information regarding where these people are and how far they are from the Capitol,” said Keith McFaden, a former Capitol Police officer and union leader who retired from the force following the riot. “We heard nothing that day.”

For the members of the riot squad who formed the first line of defense on the Capitol’s lower west terrace on Jan. 6, the lack of information could not have come with higher stakes.

Thrust into the most intense battle of the insurrection, the roughly two dozen officers bought lawmakers crucial time to scramble for safety. For about 100 heart-pounding minutes, they slipped and skidded across a stone surface slick with blood and bear spray, attempting to hold their ground against a rampaging mass of thousands.

To many of them, it felt like no one was in charge of the Capitol’s defense. All they could hear on the police radio were desperate cries for help.

At one point, the combat veteran was forced to stumble back from the line, his face so covered in bear spray he could barely see or breathe.

When he came to, a surge spilled over to his south. The crowd pushed over several bike racks. He realized the unfathomable had happened. His squad had lost the line; the mob could now enter the Capitol. There was no choice but to fall back. The officers stumbled over blood and debris until they were pressed against a limestone wall at the rear of the terrace. The mob had them cornered.

The officers, drained from their standoff, found a narrow staircase leading to an entrance of the building. But it could fit only one officer at a time. So they took turns climbing it as the crowd closed in, screaming obscenities and threatening murder.

“You fucking faggots!” one shouted. “You’re not even American!”

Waiting to climb the stairs, the combat veteran feared the worst. “This is where they’ll find my body,” he thought.

https://www.propublica.org/article/i-dont-trust-the-people-above-me-riot-squad-cops-open-up-about-disastrous-response-to-capitol-insurrection?utm_source=pocket-newtab

#Riot Squad Cops #Capitol Insurrection

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flying-nightwing · 3 years

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Double Cross (Jason Todd)

Hi people! So this is my little project I was talking about. A sudden blurb of inspiration led me to this and uh. Here it is! Once again, this is super experimental so yeah idk about its potential. You’ll be the judge of that I guess

This time I worked on time jumps back and forth and perspectives, so let me know how it turned out!

Masterlist in bio/pinned!

Pairing: Jason Todd x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 6937

Warnings: swearing, uhhh idk it’s dc so you know what you’re into

-- 36 hours ago --

Your heart was beating hard against your ribcage as you flew down Washington DC's streets. Your motorcycle was burning under you, and you had a feeling you were on the clock to get off of this ticking time bomb before it exploded and brought you down with it. The bullet holes broke the black paint, decorating your bike in a way that flagged unwanted attention. About six blocks ago, unmarked cars had joined your fast paced parade across the city.

A terrible mistake, all of this was. That was certain.

You took a sharp right, your knee scraping on the asphalt on the way. An infernal noise came out of your bike, but you still willed it to accelerate on the straight alley. You shot back on the main roads like a bullet, swerving around the black police car that had tried to cut you off. But soon enough, you saw the blockade on the street in front of you. You could never jump it with your bike so in disarray, and there were no viable alleys to sneak into. You shut your eyes tight for a moment, then exhaled.

"I'm sorry Jason" You muttered to yourself. "But you left me no choice"

With a firm grip, you pressed the brakes and came to a stop a fair distance from the blockade. You turned off your bike and kicked the foot to hold it up, slowly getting off and pulling your hands up. Shouts erupted around you as the police mobilised themselves in tight formations, guns up and ready to shoot. With one hand up, you undid your tinted black helmet and let it fall to the ground.

"On your knees!" An officer shouted as he approached. "Keep your hands where I can see them"

You complied.

-- Now --

The white of the neons glaring down on you made your already tired eyes hurt, saturating your vision with a harsh and constant flash of light. You were left alone with a room temperature glass of water on your left and your own reflection on your right. You couldn’t hear them, but you knew they were there, observing you. Instead, all you could see was the dark bags under your eyes and your messy greasy hair.

You perked up when two men in suits came in by the door in front of you, thin files in their hands and calculating glances. They were nicely dressed, one with a gray suit and the other, black. Both suits were obviously tailored to them. They sat down in front of you and observed you before the one in the gray suit spoke. Dark hair, blue eyes, taller than the other, maybe around six feet.

“Good morning, Agent”

You only nodded, looking down to the table.

“My name is Agent Baker,” He said. “My colleague here is Agent Tanev. We will proceed to your debriefing”

“Sure” You nodded again.

Agent Baker set a recording device on the desk and turned it on. “Please tell us again why you are here today”

“I am--” You paused, clearing your throat. “I am here today to deliver crucial information on a wanted criminal in exchange for a pardon”

“Which wanted criminal should that be?”

“The Red Hood” You said, meeting his eyes. “I have names of associates, safe houses locations, frequent territories of operation as well as his specific m.o.”

“How come you know all of this?” He asked, his voice neutral. “No seasoned agent has ever managed to get this close to him, let alone a rookie. We want to know how you gained his trust, start from the beginning, spare no details. Leave nothing out”

“I met the Red Hood during operation 7381 in northern Lithuania” You began as Agent Tanev started to take notes. “I was in the back up team for the extraction of General Kradiev from a local opposant group. I wasn’t supposed to even see action, as it should have been simple enough against an untrained mob, but when is it ever…”

They had known you were coming. A whole grab and go operation had been compromised by the feeling of invincibility of the CIA, that looked down so much on whoever they went against that they never stopped to think that maybe--maybe--they were prepared.

So when the Alpha team stormed the country house where the General was supposed to be kept and found it empty, all action plans were thrown out the window. The Beta team was mobilised to close off all the roads surrounding the area and to search for the hostage. You were ordered to search a single decaying house in between two pine trees because the structure was so old, so nobody could have ever been hiding in its debris. However, as you were leaving, you heard whimpers coming from the cellar a few feet away from the foundations. Carefully, you made your way to the wooden doors on the ground, and after making sure your magazine was full and the safe of your semi automatic off, you kicked the doors open and raced down the stairs.

“Don’t move or I’ll blow your head off” You yelled, pointing your gun at the first person you saw. It was clearly a man, wearing a bright red helmet that shone under the single lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling. He slowly held up his hands, but he didn’t seem so bothered. Your eyes found another man next, tied to a chair and wearing a bag on his head. The military uniform was a dead giveaway of his identity, so you returned your full attention to the red helmet guy. “You’re going to back up and face the wall now”

“Or what?” He challenged. “You’ll ‘blow my head off’?”

“Shut up!” You barked, taking a step forward. Your firearm was ready to shoot. “Do as I fucking say”

“You’re CIA uh?” He changed the subject, looking down at your marked bulletproof vest and not listening to you. In fact, he didn’t seem worried at all by the situation he was in. “Should have known. You guys have never cared who lived or died. What fucking difference does it make, as long as they’re good pals with the good ol’ US of A right?”

“God would you just fucking shut up and back up” You were getting impatient, but also nervous. You were alone without backup, with a guy in a red helmet who was clearly taunting you, and you had never shot anyone before. It was your first oversea mission, and already it was fucking catastrophic.

“See, that’s the thing” He held a finger up. “You’re pointing a gun at me like I’m the bad guy, while you are trying to rescue the scum of humanity. You’re going to extract him, give him a nice long life on Florida’s golf courses with the taxpayers' money and wipe out from History the mass graves in the woods two miles away”

You remained silent.

“Oh, did you not know about the mass graves?” He asked rhetorically in a mocking tone. “Your friend here decided he wanted to test the new shipment of automatic weapons, because their bullets per minute capacity had been expanded. And what better targets than the group of students that opposed the american military presence in the country? The youngest was 16 and her name was Vera Beliskava. Isn’t that right, Kradiev?”

He pulled the hood from the general to reveal his bloodied and bruised face. He had been gagged and beaten, that was obvious. He looked at you, pleading.

“You’re the only one who saw” The man in red said, softer this time. “You don’t have to save that piece of trash. Just say your search came up empty and I’ll make him disappear from the Earth's face permanently without leaving so much as a trace. Nobody else will know, and you will go to sleep knowing you made the world a better place”

You took a breath, a million thoughts running into your head. Who was that guy? Why was he here? Why did he not attack you, while he clearly had a handgun strapped on his thigh? Could he be right about Kradiev? You knew he didn’t have the cleanest record concerning human rights, but mass graves?

“Beta team, report”

You both froze as your comm broke the silence. He gave you a challenging look as you were still debating. You wanted to do good, that’s why you went into the secret services. Being complicit in mass murder wasn’t something you signed up on.

“Nothing to report on the north road”

“Clear in the valley”

“Farmer’s house empty”

“No traffic on the south road”

You knew it was your turn now. Slowly, you reached for your comm, not breaking eye contact.

“Pinetree house’s clear” You spoke in a flat line, decided and direct as you lowered your gun. You shut down your comm and glanced at Kradiev, whose relief morphed into fear once again as your decision registered. You averted your eyes.

“You made the right choice”

“I hope so, or I’m dead” You mumbled. “I’m going back now. Don’t make me regret my decision”

“You won’t”

“So just to be clear,” Agent Baker frowned. “You just… Believed him? And you let General Kradiev in his hands?”

“When I left, I went to check, and the graves were there. Kradiev was guilty”

“That was not your decision to make” He pointed out.

“I know” You sighed. “That was my first mistake. I-- I lost it for a moment. He mentioned the graves and the victims and there were so many people the same age as them I could think about and I decided with my feelings rather than my judgement. And I’m paying the price today”

“Alright” He mumbled, passing a hand on his face like he was already done with this debriefing. “When did you cross paths with him again?”

“We were back in America” You continued. “By that time, I was no longer on training wheels. It was a little more than a year later, in Newport Oregon during operation 9004. We were busting a trans pacific drug dealer on the docks when we got unexpected company…”

You were running as well as you could through the maze of freight containers on the docks, trying to push back the pain of the bullet in your leg. You had drawn the fire of the hired gang so your colleagues could proceed, but things went down the drain when you were met with heavier fire than the briefing stated. Outnumbered and outran, you stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You wouldn’t go out as a coward, that was certain. If you went down, you’d take as many of them as you could with you.

You reopened your eyes and checked the magazine of your gun, letting it drop on the ground and pushing a full one in. You loaded and clicked the safe off, flexing your fingers on the handle as footsteps surrounded you. You spun around and pulled the trigger, but before the bullet even reached your target, two men dropped on his side.

You weren’t the only shooter.

Thinking it was backup from your team, you allowed yourself to back up against a container, trying to stop the bleeding. You were starting to feel light headed, but you still had a bit more fight in you. Soon enough, all hostiles were down, and you were in for a surprise. Instead of the black uniform of your colleagues, you looked up to a red bat, a leather jacket and a familiar red helmet. You squinted your eyes and let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“Do I even wanna know?” You asked.

“I owed you one” He shrugged. “You okay?”

You looked down to your leg, your pants soaked in blood that was already cooling, then back up again. “Peachy” You gave him a thumbs up. “You were right about Kradiev. He was a fucking trash bag”

“It’s often the case” He said as he rested his hands on his hips.

“You here for Hiko?”

“Yep” He nodded, then snorted derisively. “Any tips?”

Ever since Kradiev, you have developed a habit of researching your target better. Most of the time, it was a capture or an execution on site, so it didn’t matter the extent of their crimes. But there were moments when you were extracting the package without knowing what came next, and those times usually meant they’ll make them disappear under a new identity, without giving them any repercussion for their actions. This one, Hiko, was the later case, without any plan revealed for when you get him back. He was a known drug trafficker, but he was also rumored to smuggle people back and forth between Asia and North America through the docks he owned. The Red Hood’s appearance was well timed, to say the least.

“Sneak past the squad through the east” You panted. “If you can move on top of the containers without being seen or heard, you’ll cut them off with about two minutes to spare. Make sure you’re gone with Hiko when they bust through the door, or neither of us will ever find him again”

He paused, studying you. “Thanks…” He trailed off. “Why are you telling me this again?”

“Well, you said it yourself” You managed to smirk. “If I can go to sleep knowing I made the world a better place”

He didn’t answer with anything else but a quick nod before he climbed the containers and disappeared from your field of vision. You sighed, then reached for your comm. “Alpha 003 to central, I’m down and need medical attention, Northwest entry of the docks”

“So if I understand correctly, not only you let him go again,” Baker exhaled, looking bewildered. “But you told him how to get there first? You realize those are becoming serious crimes right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” You snapped, before recomposing yourself. Both agents had backed away just a little at your outburst. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry. I’m just tired, it’s been a crazy last two days”

“Did he offer you any medical help then?” Baker returned on topic.

“No, I called the medics and I was extracted with the chopper” You replied. “I knew he was there for Hiko, not for me. It was a coincidence we crossed paths, and at that point I thought it was the last time I’d see him. I mean, what are the chances, right? But you see, that here was my second mistake”

“How so?”

“The CIA goes after threats to national security, but so does he, in his own way” You said, locking eyes with Baker. “The guy’s everywhere, even where we don’t go. And he’s at least three steps ahead of us at any turn. He has good funds, good intel and exceptional skills. You don’t find him, he finds you. And that’s what he did”

“He contacted you after the affair on the docks?” He raised an eyebrow.

“We could say that...”

You finished washing your tea cup when you heard a thud coming in from your living room. Slowly, you grabbed the gun hidden in your cupboard and held it up, quietly making your way to the next room. You rounded the corner and pointed your gun to the man standing with his back to you, registering his identity as he turned around. You must have been a sight in your baby pink pajama shorts and mismatching turquoise tank top, pointing your handgun to a man in a shiny red helmet.

You scoffed and lowered your gun, clicking the safe back on and putting the firearm on the lamp table. “Breaking and entering, really?”

“Wouldn’t be the worst crime I’ve committed” He shrugged, and you could just imagine him rolling his eyes, whoever he was under that helmet.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, crossing your arms against your chest. “How did you find me?”

“Like I find anyone” He answered like it was the simplest of evidence. You waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have no intention to reveal his methods. This time, you rolled your eyes. “And I’m here because I wanted to check on your leg”

“No you’re not” You snorted. He would have come months ago if it was about that, and even then, the little you knew about him told you he was not the kind to just check upon people who didn’t mean anything to him. “But I’m doing fine, thanks”

“You’re welcome” He nodded. “And you’re right. I need something from you”

“Well, go ahead, since you’re already in” You gestured at him to go on.

“Wait wait wait” Baker held his hand up. “He broke into your house and you just let him? You put your gun down and didn’t call anyone?”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said” You replied slowly.

“And it never occured to you that he was dangerous?”

You paused, thinking your answer over. “No, it didn’t. I mean, if he wanted to get rid of me, he would have done it on the docks where I was an easy target”

“Fair point” Tanev muttered under his breath, earning him a glare from Baker.

“Now do you want to know what happened or not?” You said, annoyed at the interruption.

“Please, go ahead”

He reached inside his jacket and handed you a file. You took it and opened it, staring at the picture and the description beside it. “This is Ian Markstrom, he has been suspected to kidnap young women, mostly tourists, to sell them on the sex trafficking market” He began. “Not only is he friends with your big bosses, but those who were brave enough to try and get him locked up never got anything to stick, and that was the best case scenario. The others either disappeared or ended up dead, so I’m assuming someone in this government does not want Markstrom to stop”

You nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“There’s a secret auction strictly reserved for the elite, Markstrom will sell his best teenagers there” He explained, a hint of disgust in his voice. “The CIA chief of operation received an invitation. I want to know what it says on the card”

“I’m not sure I’m good enough to reach anywhere near it” You mumbled. “But sure, I’ll try”

“No, I believe in you” He said, and he seemed pretty sure of himself. You raised an eyebrow to hide your surprise at his compliment. “What I’m wondering though, is why you’re not asking questions”

“Well, you are two in two so far about targeting the bad guy” You said after a moment. “You seem qualified to spot ‘em, and you’d be real twisted to to make up that scenario for a petty revenge, so I’m guessing you’re on the mark again”

“Huh. You might just be the only smart CIA agent I’ve ever met”

You snorted. “Well, the more it goes the more I’m questioning the integrity of my employer”

“You keep impressing me”

“With what I saw, I believe the bar was pretty low to start with”

“Keep talking like this and I might need a cold shower”

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

He let out a short bark of laughter. “If only you knew”

“I’ll do my best for the invitation” You brought him back on topic, closing the file and putting it beside your handgun. “How can I contact you if I get it?”

He paused, then took a step forward and grabbed your wrist. He fetched a pen from his jacket and wrote a number. “This is a burner phone, which I will destroy after this whole deal. Don’t try and trace me with that, it won’t end well for you”

“Yeah yeah” You rolled your eyes, pulling back your arm when he was done. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore his overwhelming proximity. “I gave you two fast passes just to trick you into seeking my help to finally bag you, I’m busted”

“Hey, listen” He backed up, holding his hand in surrender. “I make that threat to everyone. It’s only a disclosure thing, I didn’t doubt your motivation”

“To each their own I guess” You shrugged. “Alright. If this is all, please get out of my apartment”

“Oop, sure”

Baker blinked slowly. “And did you? Communicate him the details?”

“Yeah” You nodded. “I managed to get into the chief of operation’s office, break into his safe, memorize the date, time and place of the auction and communicate it to Red”

“Red?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Short for Red Hood” Tanev clarified, and judging by yet another glare from Baker, he wouldn’t speak anytime soon.

“He kept it on the quiet, but after that the chief of operation did seem a changed man” You smirked, before dropping it instantly. “And I didn’t hear anything from Markstrom, it was like he disappeared for good, which he most likely did. So I guess the Red Hood succeeded in taking him down”

“Jesus Christ” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why do I have the feeling it wasn’t the last law you broke?”

“Because it wasn’t”

“Are you going to make a habit out of dropping out of nowhere to ask me for favors?”

This time, you knew who had broken into your property without even looking. You put the keys into your car and turned the engine on, trying to warm yourself. The Red Hood pulled himself upright from your backseat, shaking his head.

“Your car is very comfortable,” He declared. “You have good taste”

“So that means yes”

“Back at it again with your superior deduction skills”

“What do you want?” You went straight to the point, but you were just a little amused. You could have a worst stalker.

“I’ve been thinking this through,” He began, moved his legs so he was properly seated on the backseat. “You are skilled and you’ve got balls of steel. I could use your help more often. A partnership, if you might”

“Why do I have the feeling it took a lot to admit that and reach out?”

“Because I don’t just trust people” He said plainly. “They disappoint me, among other things”

“So why me?”

“Like I said, skills and balls of steel” He repeated. “You went against the fucking CIA not once, not twice but thrice to do the right thing. That’s enough of a test of will for me. And besides, your job would be an advantage that is hard to turn away”

“Makes sense” You mumbled as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. He buckled his belt like it was a reflex. “Will this partnership imply me shooting bad guys?”

“If that’s what you wish for” He shrugged, leaning forward in the space between the two front seats. “I won’t be the one to limit you”

“Okay, yeah” You nodded. “Where do we start?”

Baker was looking into nothing, processing your words. He shook his head slowly in disbelief before he met your glance. “I shouldn’t be surprised” He spoke after a moment. “But this is Everest high levels of stupid”

“At that time it did seem like a good idea”

“Yeah, might as well jump off of a bridge…” He trailed off, eying you suspiciously. “Did you do that too?”

“Well, if we consider the time when--”

“You know what, don’t tell me” He cut you off. “Please go on”

“Alright” You held your hands up in surrender. “So, where was I?”

You and the Red Hood operated on the field like a well oiled machine. Your expertise and contacts with the CIA helped him get into places way more easily than alone, and your somewhat reckless ways were compatible with his mode of operation. You knew who he was as well, you found out after he nonchalantly took off his helmet after a stakeout. You had not been prepared for what you saw then, when you were faced with what you could qualify with the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

“Hey, you okay?” He waved a hand in your face, making you snap out your daze. You blinked a few times, shaking it off.

“Yeah” You replied. “I just wasn’t expecting this”

“Expecting what?”

“I mean, the helmet did give disfiguration vibes… Obviously I was wrong”

“So you think I’m hot then?” He snorted derisively.

“I do”

His head did a whiplash. “Huh?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” You backed away. “Sometimes my filter doesn’t work”

“No it’s--” He tried to find his words, then sighed. “I’m just not used to that, I guess”

“What’s the point of this?” Baker groaned, his head in his hands.

“It’s a turning point that brought me here today” You explained, turning your palm up briefly. “You asked for details, I’m giving you details”

“I kinda wanna know what went down, to be honest” Tanev added sheepishly.

“Tanev, I’m going to drive you through the mirror if you do not shut up”

“Jeez sorry” He mumbled.

“As I was saying”

That day was the moment things changed in your relationship. There was this tension that hadn’t been there before, the little brushes of hands when you were side by side, the staring at the other while they weren’t looking, the unspoken invitations to stay a moment longer after a mission for a cigarette and a good conversation. He was one of a kind, you had to give that to him. He was passionate, driven, smart in a way that told you he never really had it easy but always made it work somehow; the way he always thought of the less obvious way to do things, how even his messes seemed calculated.

It was raining in Chicago and the air was crisp. Your muscles ached from the fight in that warehouse against drug lords that enrolled kids in their schemes, that and from the unforgiving cold of January. You had one too many whiskeys back in that little studio flat he rented under a false name, and it led you straight to his bed. Trying to find warmth, trying to find a connection, it didn’t matter why, as long as you were as close as humanly possible to him.

And it didn’t stop there. The night after, and the night after that, always in his company past the business hours. Your chemistry translated way beyond the field, for you found him in a partner in more ways than one. You grew quickly to feel love for him, more than you had ever felt for anyone. The number of times you woke up naked and tangled with him--

“Okay I don’t need to know this-- I do NOT need to know this” Baker yelled. If he could have flipped shit from the table, you’re sure he would have.

“You told me to spare no details!” You argued. “This is a detail. I’m being as thorough as I can”

“You know what-- Forget it” He brushed his hand in the air aggressively. “Just get to the part we have interest in, for God’s sake please just skip to that”

“Okay, okay” You muttered, rolled your eyes. “It went well for the first months or so, it was great. Nothing to say on that front, I was happy and fulfilled in this new englobing partnership we had going on. That was my third mistake, to get into that kind of involvement with him. Because then, like all good things must come to an end, mine slowly began crumbling down in my hands”

“Okay” He sighed, half in relief. “Tell me more about that”

“Well, he started to show his true colors” You admitted, pulling your hands under the table. “Sometimes, he became something else. Something dark. And sometimes became most of the time, but I was too in love to see it. He became manipulative, controlling. He was everywhere, in everything I did. It’s like I didn’t even have control on my life anymore…”

“Where do you wanna eat?”

You looked away from the car window, your feet comfortably up on the dash. You took a deep breath and shrugged. “Dunno, where do you wanna eat?”

“Don’t really care” He shrugged too. “You decide”

“What about chipotle?”

“Sure” He nodded. “Chipotle sounds good”

Tanev shook his head sympathetically. “He wouldn’t even let you choose a restaurant?”

“Never” You looked down, sadness weighing your voice.

“I’m so sorry you had to live through that”

“Thank you”

“Alright, moving on” Baker broke the moment. “What happened next?”

“Next? Next came what comes every time in screwed up relationships” You answered, returning your hands on the table and crossing your fingers. “We burned like a meteorite as it tears through the atmosphere, falling to our demise to high velocity and taking everything in our wake”

“That was poetic” He pointed out sarcastically. “What the fuck does it mean?”

You raised an eyebrow. “We got dangerous for real, Agent Baker” You paused to take a reserved sip of the water. “If you thought I was reckless before, you’ll need to reevaluate your scale. I was in for real. I was his battle horse, his wildcard, his whatever that he needed to succeed. And I was good at it. The worst was, I didn’t even realize he used me as a smoke screen. He put me more and more often in fucked up situations that were way more dangerous for me than him, and I was naive enough to think it was love”

“No. This is not up for discussion”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You said you would let me choose--”

“I said I would let you choose, not let yourself get killed” He interrupted, slightly raising his voice. “This plan of yours is stupid dangerous. If it backfires, you are almost guaranteed of not making it out free, or alive for that matter. I’m not allowing you to take that risk. Not for me.”

“Again, ‘if’ being the keyword” You insisted, following him as he stomped out of the storage room. “I am capable of executing it flawlessly. I know I am, you’ve always told me I am”

He halted his steps, hesitantly turning to face you. His eyes softened as he sighed, taking your hand. “I know you can, it’s not about that” His voice was back down, even lower than his usual volume. “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you for something I dragged you into in the first place, I would never forgive myself”

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead on his. “Okay” You finally said, nodding lightly. “We’ll find another way. Another plan. But we’re hitting that ball out of the park either way, I won’t let Preston get away with it”

He smiled. “Oh no, we won't indeed” He kissed the top of your head. “We’ll get him one way or another, I promise”

“I almost feel sorry for you now, Agent” Baker gulped. “I cannot begin to imagine what terrible things the Red Hood forced you to do under his manipulation. We however must continue this debriefing”

“Of course” You nodded quickly, breathing deeply. “So we planned our next move, but he wouldn’t tell me the final target. I found it weird, he always told me the targets. I don’t know, maybe he sensed I was trying to find a way out”

“And that plan was…”

“Yes” You didn’t have to let him finish his trailing thoughts, you knew what he was getting at. “So this brings us to 36 hours ago”

“Be as thorough as you can”

“So the Red Hood gave me those instructions to follow” You began. “I was to draw the attention of the authorities to me in a city wide chase. Now, I am rather good with a bike, that I won’t hide, but outrunning police and secret services? That was impossible. I still don’t know how they got there, but it saved me. He would have never dared to come into the melee to get me back, and risk getting caught”

“Was he not afraid you’d talk to us?” Baker asked. “That was a pretty big gamble”

“He thought I wouldn’t talk I guess, probably for the same reasons I stayed with him for all this time” You said, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. You hated to think about these words. “Because I believed I loved him”

“I guess that wouldn’t be too far fetched” He hummed. “Wouldn’t be the first time we saw it happen”

You nodded, remaining silent. Baker made eye contact with Tanev, then looked into the reflecting glass. He took a deep breath and returned his attention to you.

“We are going to get you back to the holding cell while we process this information” He said. “But once we do that, you’ll be free, and with a new identity if you wish, as your agreement states”

“Thank you”

“Just one more thing before we wrap this debriefing” He leaned forward. “You must know his name"

“Of course”

“Then what is it?” He asked. “What is the Red Hood’s name?”

You looked down, taking a deep breath, then back again, locking eyes with Baker. Then, you spoke.

-- 36 hours later --

The sunset over the valley was gorgeous. The mixes of pink and orange on the yellowed sky was straight out of a fantasy world, and Jason couldn’t help but appreciate the scenery. It was soothing, like it could swallow up his anxiety at least for a minute or two. He leaned on the wooden ramp, the sightseeing roadside station seeming not so cheesy at the moment.

He only tore his eyes from the burning sun when he heard a motorcycle approach from behind. He pushed himself off the ramp and faced the sleek black bike--the lack of use on it showing him it was brand new--then, the driver with a black tinted visor.

You took off your helmet and smiled at Jason’s stern expression, whose eyes showed relief anyway. You turned off your bike and parked it, then got off and walked to him.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You walked past him and leaned on the ramp he had been on moments ago, and he joined you. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered you one. He lit up both with his lighter, and you took a long draft before speaking.

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice” You smirked, bumping your shoulder to his. “I did save your sweet ass, after all”

“I thought we agreed not to do that” He glanced at you sideways. His annoyance was also mixed with playful disbelief, like he both wanted to throw you off the cliff you were admiring the view from and do celebratory shots with you.

“We did” You nodded, chuckling. “But circumstances changed. You weren’t out by the time I reached the monument, so I had to draw them away from you, or we would not be having this conversation. ”

“Still” He tilted his head to the side, before his head snapped in your direction. “Wait, did you call the secret services after yourself?”

You shrugged half heartedly. “Mayhaps” Your lips curved upward, while he shook his head. “I mean, it kinda was my fault too. I misplaced the bomb and it barely detonated. I had to flip to plan B, then they shot my bike. They had me surrounded, and my it was running low on life, so I skipped directly to plan fuck this”

“So you gave yourself up”

"Played the victim, pretended I wanted to exchange information on you for my freedom” You sighed, taking a drag of your cigarette. “None of which was relevant enough for them to even get close to you, worry not”

“They must have asked for a name” He hummed, now turning his full body toward you. “What did you tell them?”

“My grandpa’s name” You snorted. “He died two decades ago. Let me tell you, when they found out the last update on him was in the necrology of the 2001 Sunday paper, they were not happy campers”

“Then how did you get out?” He squinted his eyes.

“Oh, do not underestimate me, sweetheart” You grinned. “I’ve spent my whole career getting to know the buildings and the procedures for people like me. It was a piece of cake”

You were escorted out the interrogation room and into the small, yet cozy holding cell. You were on the clock, because the lies you’ve slipped into your story would unravel pretty quickly once they discovered that the name you gave them was a farce. Then, you wouldn’t be put in a minimal security room, but probably somewhere way less fun.

“Hey wait” You called after the guard before he could close the cell door behind you. He paused his actions, waiting for you to speak up. “This wasn’t there last time”

He frowned and took a few steps into the cell, trying to spot over your shoulder whatever you were talking about. When he didn’t see it, he got closer and closer until he was all the way into the cell. “What wasn’t there before?” He asked, annoyed.

You smiled. “You”

With a quick jab of your elbow behind his head, he fell down unconscious on the floor. You grabbed his keycard and exited the cell, locking the guard in. You winked at the camera on the upper left corner of the hallway and made your way down to the garages as the alarms blared through the whole building. That meant it entered lockdown, closing all the escape routes. But you had your own fool proof plan.

Agent Baker began swearing when the hallway was plunged into the red glow of the lockdown alert. It hadn’t taken long for him to figure out you had led them in circles, and he had appeared a fool in front of his colleagues when he proudly revealed the name of a long deceased old man instead of anything tangible. He had been on his way to your cell when he realized the depth of this foolery, understanding you had been stalling them for this opportunity.

“Sir, we are reporting engine noises in the garages”

“Fuck” Baker shouted, pushing the other man aside. Tanev was a step behind, his weapon drawn. They had stored your bike there, you must have gone back for it. “All units report to the garage, we’re having a break out. I repeat, all units to the garages”

They all flocked to the lower levels, ready to enforce the barrages at the doors and trap you with no exit. It was an excellent execution of emergency measures, but they definitely weren’t prepared for what came next. As they kicked the storage unit of your motorcycle, they came face to face with the bullet ridden bike with no driver in sight. Baker lowered his gun, squinting his eyes. Then, they widened comically as the dark smoke coming out of it and the strong smell of gasoline registered in his brain.

“Motherfucker” He spat. “Everybody out!”

Seconds later, it exploded.

“You’re unbelievable” Jason scoffed, shaking his head. However, he now had a full blown grin to match yours. “I gotta give it to you though, blowing up your bike as a distraction was smart. Balls of fucking steel”

“Of course it was!” You replied, then reached in your pocket for your phone. “And it’s not even the best part, look”

You unlocked your phone and passed it to him, showing him your most recent picture of the CIA’s chief of operation dead with a letter opener through his neck. His eyes widened. “You got Preston?”

You turned around from your position, now leaning back on the ramp with your elbows resting on it. “The bike opened a window big enough for me to get the target” You said, finishing your cigarette and disposing of it in the ash bin on your right. “And with all those idiots guarding an empty garage, t’was easy enough”

“After all this time, you’re still impressing me” He nodded, holding up his fist. “Good fucking job”

You bumped your fist sideway with his, laughing at his baffled expression. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, but the air was still warm. You could hear the crickets in the high grass, and the silence was a peaceful one. You could admit that you had cut it close this time, that this gamble could have very well turned to shit, so you just took a moment to let the pressure slip away from your muscles, at least for now. You had the time to smoke another cigarette before you spoke.

“So now what?” You hummed, looking up to the bright stars above your head. “Markstrom’s ring is no more, and I’m pretty sure I not only lost my job by pulling that stunt, but also bought myself a ticket on at least three intelligence services’ most wanted list”

“Well, that’s nothing a good ol’ fake death can’t fix” He shrugged. “But until we find the right moment for your tragic public demise, I’m sure we can manage to find on our own some domestic assholes to beat up. What do you say?”

You met eyes with him, then raised your eyebrows. “I say let’s get to it”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #jason todd x you #outlaws

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spytap · 3 years

Text

That Time I Maybe Accidentally Slid Between Universes On The Lower East Side: A Modern Pizza Brigadoon

Okay, we’re trying this again. With the words. Let’s give it a shot.

I was telling this story over the weekend, and it struck me that it’s something I’ve never really written down. But I think it’s worth documenting - you know, for science.

I guess I have to preface this by saying that I’m not the type of person to accept the unexplainable. In the Mulder/Scully matrix of assumptions, I lean much more Scully, assuming that most things have a reasonable explanation once more data is uncovered or known. I say that just so that I can say that one time while on a business trip to New York, I’m pretty sure I drunkenly dropped back and forth between parallel universes Sliders-style while trying to grab a slice.

Right, so let’s set the stage of our merry little fever dream of a play, shall we?

It’s 1:30am and I am drunk.

Wait, let’s be clear: I’m not just “I’m in New York and let’s have some fun” drunk, I’m “we’re at a digital media event and it’s the late oughts” drunk. I think it was the Webbies, but who knows. It could have been social media week or any number of other things. But if you were in the DM scene at the time, you remember (or not…) that any event which brought together the weird crossover between tech, social media, and nascent web video had, at its intersection, going hard in the motherfucking paint, if you get my drift.

The late oughts were where SXSW got its reputation as an epic and riotous shitshow where long term memories went to die. Companies lived and died by the parties they threw way out in the wasteland that was “anywhere off of sixth street.” It set the scene for an arms race of irresponsibility that wouldn’t peter out until about 2012. And New York, being much larger than Austin and with a scrappy underdog of a tech industry, had a reputation to uphold.

So that’s how I find myself at my third after party, in a bar called (I think?) Ford’s, on the lower east side, surrounded by the technorati, glitterati, and all other manner of descriptive terms for young, pretty, newly and soon-to-be rich people, before we discovered that they were called “influencers.”

This bar is a proper dive. Not quite “you could destroy everything in here and you’d be out like fifteen bucks” but still well into “you’re gonna need more than a new paint job once the artisan cheese shops roll into this neighborhood.” Put in 2009 money, we were still getting five dollar beers in Manhattan, so do with that what you will.

Back to the story: right around 1:30AM, I’m thinking three things: 1) I would very much like to slam an inordinate amount of pizza into my mouth, 2) I probably need to use the restroom before I do so, and 3) The four or five people I’m with are probably feeling the same way. So I check in with my crew, tell them I’m gonna hit the head and then we’re gonna hit some pizza. First things first though: I gotta get some crucial info from the bartender.

I saunter up to the bar and ask where I can get a slice. The sole bartender, a man who is both younger and exponentially cooler than me, tells me “New York’s best pizza is two blocks up and one left.”

“New York’s best?” I clarify, because wouldn’t that be a coincidence?

“Yep, New York’s best pizza. Two blocks up, one left.”

Well, I know that everyone thinks they know the best pizza in town, but this dude looks like he’s a perpetual trend setter, so it feels like it has a higher-than-average likelihood of relative goodness. Besides, I’ve assaulted my sense well past the realm of good taste, so as long as it’s not cooked on a literal garbage can, it should serve it’s purpose. I pop the directions into the old memory banks, and wander off through the broken door that indicates relief (and, in retrospect, possibly tetanus.)

True to its dive bar requirements, this restroom is super classy you guys. Just above the pee trough (like an actual six foot long trough that horses would drink out of) (in other circumstances) there’s a mirror where someone has carved “Smoke Beer” - a particular exercise that I contemplate for far too long. Is this a flavor profile of some cheeky new porter? Are they suggesting you replace your bong water with Budweiser? Or is this an actual “get a beaker and some burners and let’s get high in the science lab” situation?

Regardless, my attention turns back to the core mission: Operation Pizza Face Hole Intersection. So I push away the culinary suggestion, zip up, and return to the main room to find…no one.

I don’t mean my friends were gone. I mean that when I left to pee, there was somewhere between 150 and 200 people in this bar, and now there were two. And I was one of them. The other one is a bartender, but very crucially, not the bartender I was just speaking to one or two or five hundred billion minutes ago. This is a new bartender. He’s older. And has a beard. This is very distinctly a different person, but I’m still hung up on the reality that there is no one else in this bar except for him and me.

I look at this new bartender. He looks at me. I look around to see if maybe my friends are hiding behind something, but this place doesn’t even have tables, let alone hiding spaces. I look back. He’s still looking at me. So I do the only logical thing to do in this scenario: I run away.

Outside, I pull out my blackberry (shut up) and call my friends. Voicemail. Every one. No one picks up. I text them “where the fuck are you assholes” but drunkenly, on a keyboard the size of a postage stamp, so they don’t write back, even to clarify whether I just had a stroke.

Something has definitely gone horribly wrong. I am very drunk in a strange part of a strange city. Everyone I know and several dozen complete strangers have been Thanos-snapped into the ether of the universe. I am alone and have no real understanding of how to get home from here. But, you know, I also still really want pizza. So I do the only thing that truly makes sense in this scenario: I start walking towards pizza.

One block up, things start getting weird(er). Now weird in nighttime Manhattan isn’t quite as weird as it used to be, and I’ve spent a fair amount of time in Venice Beach, so my weird meter is a little skewed compared to most people. But it’s as-near-as-matters-2am now and the streets of the lower east side are deserted, except for…

Look, there’s no way to say this without sounding like I’m writing a David Lynch spec, so I’m just gonna say it and you’re gonna have to trust me here.

Directly in front of me there is a group of a dozen or so seven to ten year old girls playing double dutch in the middle of the street. A totally normal sight at 2pm - less so at 2am. There are no adults here. Or anywhere. Except me. And right as I notice them, they notice me. They don’t stop their monotone chanting, they just continue to do so while swiveling their heads to follow me like a leopard follows a [whatever leopards eat - I’m not looking it up on Wikipedia right now.]

So once again: empty streets in the LES, except for me and a gaggle of girls wielding a pair of twin jump ropes. And chanting. I briefly wonder if they’re okay and why they’re out here all along performing what’s starting to sound more and more like some pagan ritual before I keep fucking walking because there’s no scenario in which any good comes from me stopping and hanging around. But I start thinking that I need a witness here.

The blessing of living in California and spending a lot of time in New York is actually time. More specifically, that you can call your girlfriend at what’s almost your 2AM and she’ll still be up and wondering what the absolute fuck you’re talking about when you open with “I hope I didn’t wake you but everyone disappeared and I’m kind of scared because there’s this creepy group of girls playing double dutch but I think it’s going to be alright because I’m walking to get pizza.”

We’d been together for a while at that point, so thankfully I’d build up a reservoir of good graces to pull from in moments like these.

Witness achieved, I told her precisely (ish) where I was, so the police could find my body, and continued my Epic Pizza Quest. Two blocks up, and one block left, where I found…

New York’s Best Pizza. That’s the goddamned name. Motherfucking hipster bartenders.

It’s open, for some reason, and empty for good reason, but after some back and forth that includes “well I don’t have any and I’d have to make a full pizza” and “I understand but I don’t want a full fucking pizza, I just want a slice” I get a couple slices and, for lack of anything better to do, decide to head back to Ford’s.

Now you might be asking yourself, dear reader, why I would march back through a fae revelry towards a crack in the universe, and that’s a very good question. The answer is that I was very drunk at the time.

So back I went.

The children were still there, still playing double dutch. (In my memory of this, they’re doing everything slowly and in a minor key, but it’s likely they were normal speed and tone, and I was just perceiving things slowly for chemical reasons.) My phone comes out again and I subtly (HA) narrate my way through this gauntlet to my girlfriend (and for the police report) and back towards the bar/Tardis.

Which brings us to our climax. See, there’s something even more disconcerting than leaving a restroom to find an erstwhile packed bar with naught but tumbleweeds, and that’s coming back to the deserted bar and finding it full again. Like packed full. Like normal full. Like Digital Media Event after party full. You know, like you remembered it pre-restroom (which is as weird a sentence to type as it is, I imagine, to read.)

I immediately run into my friends, who not only know nothing at all about the empty bar, but proclaim that they’ve been looking for me for “like an hour.” They’ve called and texted me, they say, which is ludicrous because I’ve been using my phone and I would have…

I looked at my phone. I had seven missed calls. A dozen texts. None of which were on my phone when I used it just moments ago, but all of which were timestamped over the past hour-ish.

I call my girlfriend again. Please pick up.

“Did you just talk to me and did I just tell you about everyone disappearing and the bar being totally empty and the weird creepy double dutch girls and getting into an argument with the pizza guy at New York’s Best Pizza?” I shouted into the phone, to the absolute horror of my friends (who were probably wondering what legal obligations they had to return me to my hotel and/or the insane asylum before I hurt myself.)

“Yes…” she responded, probably wondering what obligations she had to guide me to my hotel and/or the insane asylum before I hurt myself.

“Good!” I shouted, and promptly hung up, having proven my sanity, but really testing the depths of that aforementioned reservoir of goodwill. She would later tell me that somehow the second phone call was weirder than the first.

Moving past my friends, I stormed back into the bar. The bartender (the first one, the hipster one, the human one) clocked me coming in, but before he could open his mouth to ask what was probably going to be a very friendly question about whether I found the pizza place, or did I want to close out the tab I’d left open, instead got to be on the receiving end of me shouting “You sent me to a really fucking weird pizza place!” before marching out the door; thus cementing my reputation as a gifter of bizarre and inexplicable social interactions, and the probable punchline to someone else’s very different story.

For the rest of the week, my friends would swear up, down, sideways, sober, and drunk that no, the bar did not empty out; no, this was not a prank; no, they didn’t see me leave; and yes, they were in the very full and active bar the entire time I was gone.

It’s ten years later, and I don’t have an explanation for this event. I wouldn’t say it haunts me, but it’s definitely one of the weirder things that’s ever happened to me. And weirder still, in writing down this modern pizza-driven Brigadoon, I looked up Ford’s and New York’s Best Pizza just to see if I remembered their names right - and I can’t find any trace of either of them.

I’m still with the same girlfriend, and she still remembers the phone calls (vividly), but no one else was actually there, so no one else can verify the very weird set of events and circumstances that happened late that night, and into the early morning, across a series of overlapping universes.

Somewhere, out there in the ether of the multiverse, I imagine one version of me is still wondering where everyone went and yearning for a slice of New York’s Best Pizza.

#Personal

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ts-unpopular-opinions · 4 years

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Side Tracks opinions part 1: Janus

(Yes I’m staring with Janus and going backwards, I just need to talk about this snake man right now!)

Alright, I’ve seen lots of people give their takes on each of the sides playlists, and honestly... I feel like they’re not all that similar to my interpretations. I mean yes anyone can interpret the songs how they’d like, but some people just flat out ignore canon to see the songs as their ship instead of what I believe they are actually meant to be seen as. Anyways... Janus! Yes let’s go through each song one by one 💛

1) Black Hole Sun: I’ll admit this one was hard for me. The song is obviously so Janus, with plenty of references to snakes and lying, but I can’t seem to put a finger on the exact meaning. If I had to guess, it’s showing Janus’ fist instance of fearing society. He’s realized that the world is not a safe place for Thomas and no one can be trusted (“Times are gone for honest men” “no one sings like you anymore”). He longs for the ignorance of childhood when society didn’t seem to pose a threat and Thomas wasn’t aware of the dangers and lies it held, but he knows that someone has to protect him from it, and that is Janus (“my youth I pray to keep” “hang my head, drown my fear”).

2) Seemed the Better Way: To me, this is a song about Janus knowing his place as a dark side and knowing that the others will not listen to him (“I better hold my tongue” “better take my place”). He initially trusts the core sides to do what needs to be done and take care of Thomas adequately, but when he realizes that it isnt enough, he finds it hard to keep in hiding (“Seemed the better way” “now it’s much too late to turn the other cheek”).

3) Anywhere: A BIG middle finger to society (“It’s a beautiful world, if youve been lied to” “No no no, nothing in this world is beautiful”). Janus basically trusts no one in society, not even the people closest to Thomas because he believes that everyone will do whatever it takes to get what they want (“Every man standing on another man’s back”). He also believes that society has been a huge detriment to Thomas and, AGAIN, is very dangerous (“It’s the world’s excuse for being disfigured and lying to you”).

4) Talking at the same time: This song is about Virgil. The song begins with explaining that a hard time for one person can be a triumph for another in multiple different metaphors (“Umbrellas cost more in the rain” “hard times for some, for others its sweet” “someone makes money when theres blood in the street”). The next part of the song practically shoves it in your face that it’s about virgil leaving (“Well she told me she would leave me, I ignored all the signs” “I know you're leaving and there's no more next time”). Janus was clearly hurt by Virgil leaving and it seems like he was almost in denial about it happening. A line near the end of the song that I found particularly interesting was “Well we bailed out all the millionaires, They've got the fruit, We've got the rind”. This line to me shows that Janus and the other dark sides let Virgil go, possibly in an attempt to get all of the dark sides accepted. Virgil capitalized on this opportunity and of course, got accepted, however, he left the others behind. Despite wanting Virgil to get accepted by the light sides, Janus remains bitter that Virgil was the only one. Virgil got the fruit, and the rest of the dark sides got the rind.

5) All the Good Girls go to Hell: Janus believes that Thomas needs to listen to him if he is going to stay safe and healthy. He thinks that his assistance, above all other sides, expecially Patton, is crucial for survival in this messed up world. (“And once the water starts to rise, And heaven's out of sight, She'll want the devil on her team” “Look at you needing me”). You’ll find it a common theme in this playlist that Janus refers to himself as the devil or an evil entity of some sort... Just thought I’d point that out.

6) Denial: Well, its in the title folks! Thomas is (or was) in denial. Janus is aware of the moments when Thomas thinks about consulting him or using one of his functions, but almost as soon as he gets the idea, he drops it and acts like the thought never happened (“Don't just shut your eyes closed” “You know that I can hear you thinking, I've heard you all the way from here, But if I look you in the eye though, It's like your thoughts all disappear”). Thomas is struggling for answers to questions that only Janus can answer, but he refuses to listen to consult him and Janus desperately wants this to stop (“I know you're looking for direction, I know where you wanna go” “Please don't turn the light out, I don't think the conversation's over”).

7) Trust in Me: Obviously, the original song has much more sinister undertones, but when listening to the song from Janus’ perspective, I get a different vibe. Basically, Janus just wants Thomas to trust him and give him more reign over decision making. Not much for this one.

8) Razzle Dazzle: JANUS IS EXTRA! Is anyone shocked? Also a HUGE showman. But again, no one’s surprised. Janus believes that the only way to get the light sides to listen to him is to practically put on a show to cover up whatever his true intentions are (“How can they see with sequins in their eyes?” “Razzle dazzle 'em And theyll never catch wise!” “How can they hear the truth above the roar?”) I could keep listing lines but theyre literally all just different versions of the same sentiment.

9) When the Chips are Down: The title right off the bat shows that, again, Janus believes that Thomas needs to look to him when important decisions are on the line. There are also a lump sum of jabs at patton in this song, lines like “Aim for the heart, shoot to kill” and “Cast your eyes to heaven, You get a knife in the back”. Theres also a lot of lines, yet again, of Janus practically begging Thomas to trust him and no one else (“Ain't nobody but yourself to trust” “Help yourself, To hell with the rest, Even the one who loves you best”).

10) Mandy goes to Med School: Soooo this one... Honestly, I don’t really have a lot. The original meaning of the song is not very applicable to Janus, so its a bit hard to pinpoint its meaning. The only thing I can think of is that Janus is again hating on society and the crazy things that people have to go through in it. If you weren’t aware, this song is about coat-hanger abortions.

11) I put a Spell on You: This one seems pretty striaghtforward to me. Janus knows that Thomas doesn’t want him, and it drives him up the wall, but he does what a snake boi does and slithers his way in anyways (“And I don't care if you don't want me, I'm yours right now” “I can't stand it 'cause you put me down”). I suppose you could argue that you could replace Thomas with Patton (mostly because daddy is used like 10 times in the song 😂) but a later song covers their realtionship extremely well.

12) Evil Night Together: Another toughie. My gut feeling is that this is a song about Remus and Janus just going out and having a wild night together. As I read into the lyrics more, though, it seems almost like Janus is doing this for Remus. Like he wants Remus to feel accepted and loved by him (something that can’t be said by Thomas). I just can’t read some of these lines without getting big Momceit vibes... i mean... theyre so supportive! “I'll hold your hand while they drag the river” “I'll cuddle you in the undertow” “I'll hold you close while they dust for prints”. Then theres of course this line... “Who's gonna make you a hero?” And to me, that is Janus saying that, if Thomas only sees Roman as his hero and not Remus, then it is Janus’ job to make Remus feel like a hero. Janus also saying “No need for cake or flowers” also feels like him reassuring Remus that he doesn’t need to be like his brother to be perfect and loved.

13) Don’t tell Mama: I think I’ve seen some people interpreting “mama” as Thomas in this song, but to me Patton seems like a better fit, especially after their interactions in the most recent episode. Basically this song is all about how Janus doesn’t mind people knowing about the bad things he does, but he can absolutely not have one person know. Janus seems to have grown a soft spot for Patton in the new episode and if you ask me, he would definately not want patton finding out about some of immoral things he’s wanted Thomas to do. I mean he literally waits for Patton to sink out and then the second he’s gone he starts scheming about pushing people down stairs and sabotage.

14) You’re a Cad: Another Virgil one, but this time it’s after Virgil’s acceptance. I think Janus has little faith in the beginning that Virgil would get far in his journey to the light side. Whether that is because of envy or just plain pessimism, I’m not sure, but he definately doubted Virgil would ever be able to escape his past (“So now you want the whole world to notice that you've come around, Now you expect, We'll see how you're really so much better now, But I know the truth” “What's the point pretending that you could be a better man, Just give in, since you always end up right back where you began”). Despite his reluctance to support Virgil’s endevors, Janus shows a softer side for Virgil that has gone completely untalked about in canon (“You're a rascal and a rogue, a villain and a crook, Still I tug at your line, I'm a fish on your hook” “Still I know the truth, but I have a sweet tooth for a Cad and a bounder, a dog and a cheap”). Janus really misses Virgil and I would go as far as to say that he regrets the things that he’s done to make Virgil want to leave (“I should be better, but I'm worse” “You're reckless with my heart, still I wait by the phone”).

15) As far as I can See: A sadie but a goodie. Janus doesn’t really understand love, but he’s sure that no one loves him (“As far as I can see Nobody loves me”). No one listens to him, no matter how much he shouts and cries. He doesn’t believe that anyone could love him if they are unwilling to hear him out and communicate with him (“As far as I can see, Nobody's listening” “And when I'm crying out, Nobody cries back for me”).

16) Criminal: AH MY FAVORITE SONG ON THE PLAYLIST! I LEGIT CRIED MY GUYS! Anyway. Janus LOVES Thomas. I would go as far to say that Janus loves Thomas more than any other side. Despite his lacking knowledge of love and what it feels like, he knows for a fact that what he feels for Thomas is the closest thing he will feel to love (“Because he's all I ever knew of love”). Now that thats out of the way, lets get to the juicy stuff... Janus feels like a criminal as he’s been taught over and over again that his opinions and thoughts are bad and harmful (“Cause I'm feelin' like a criminal” “I've done wrong and I wanna suffer for my sins”) This song is ultimately about Janus wanting to improve for Thomas, the one he loves the most. He knows that Thomas needs him, and the only way to get Thomas to listen is to get some help. Whose that help you might ask? Patton. Janus wants to be more helpful, but he doesnt know how. He’s envious of Patton’s ability to be accepted so easily, so he goes to him for advice (“I've come to you cause I need guidance to be true, And I just don't know where I can begin”). Janus wants to be redeemed in Thomas’ eyes, he wan’ts to escape the criminal appearance he’s been doomed to (“And I need to be redeemed, To the one I've sinned against”). He HATES some of the things he does to Thomas and some of the things he makes him think, but he doesn’t want to be forgiven, he believes that he deserves to be punished, but he still wants to get better for Thomas. He just doesn’t know how to do that (“Oh help me, but don't tell me to deny it, I've got to cleanse myself Of all these lies til I'm good enough for him”). Also, Janus sees Patton in a very very high place. He goes as far in this song to liken him to an angel while comparing himself, again, to the devil (“So what would an angel say, The devil wants to know”).

17) Change: The song is about, you guessed it, change! This to me is a continuation of the last song. Janus finally feels like things are changing in his favor (likely after the most recent episode). He was beginning to feel like there was no point in caring or trying, but now that he’s begining to see the light, he’s grown a bit hopeful (“Lately I've been thinking it's just someone else's job to care, Who am I to sympathize when no one gave a damn?” “Trying to find the power in me to be faithful” “Change is a powerful thing, I feel it coming in me”). With Patton’s help and acceptance, Janus is begining to feel worthy of Thomas again and begining to see the he has a voice (“Maybe by the time this song is done I’ll be able to be honest, capable, Of holding you in my arms without letting you fall when I don't feel beautiful Or stable”).

18) Devil in the Details: Janus worries again about his ability to help Thomas. He doesn’t believe that he can tell the difference between good and bad and he looks to Patton for that differentiation (“There was love I meant, there were accidents, So tell me which is which. 'Cause I just can't work it out” “I have, no way, of knowing,…”). There’s also an odd underlying message about doing something that he doesn’t want to do, but continues to do despite this and I’m not quite sure what that could be referring to (“And I know the cost, and I want to stop. But I can't do it, I just can't do it.”). It could simply be referring to him lying or deceiving others, but that seems too simple. I wish I had a better answer.

19) Come Little Children: ALSO MY FAVORITE SONG ON THE PLAYLIST! This is really big guys. This song practically confirms the fact that Janus was in charge of taking in and hiding the dark sides from Thomas (“Come little children, I'll take thee away Into a land of enchantment”). The song literally uses the phrase “My garden of shadows”, a clear metaphor for the hidden parts of Thomas’ mind where Janus keeps the dark sides. But it gets better... Janus pities these poor sides. He hates the way that society has forced them away from the light and into the shadows (“Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way Through all the pain And the sorrows”). Not only does Janus feel bad for these sides and longs to protect them from the cruelness of the real world, but he LOVES them. He values every aspect of them and thinks they are beautiful and perfect. He cannot fathom why society wouldn’t also love see them this way and it frustrates him to hide such amazing traits from the world (“Weep not poor children For life is this way, Murdering beauty and passions”). Despite this sadness and dissapointment, Janus does his job and keeps the dark sides hidden away, knowing that society would never accept them for what they are (“Hush now dear children, It must be this way”).

20) Into the Unknown (no not the Frozen song): This song is VERY IMPORTANT. I have seen so many misinterpretations of this song, and granted mine could also be wrong, but please hear me out. This song comes right after the last song for a reason. The sides that Janus had once hidden away are now being shown to Thomas. He is literally going into the unknown (“Led through the mist, By the milk-light of moon, All that was lost, is revealed.” “Somewhere lost in the clouded annals of history, Lies a place that few have seen. A mysterious place, called The Unknown. Where long-forgotten stories are revealed to those who travel through the wood.”) Thomas is figuratively traveling through the wood by learning more about himself and traveling deeper into Janus’ previously mentioned Garden of Shadows. The song ends, beautifully framing Janus’ love for the sides he’s raised and hidden away, calling them “ The loveliest lies of all”....

(Ahhh! I’m sorry that was so long guys 😅 Thank you if you read the whole thing or evern part! I’d like to hear your opinions, so let me know 💛💛💛)

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts sanders sides #ts unpopular opinions #ts janus #janus sanders #janus playlist #ts side tracks #janus’ playlist #sanders sides playlist #long post #ts sidetracks

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viktorrotkiv · 3 years

Text

Trust Me

This fic was written for the @snowbaz-sweethearts-exchange as a gift for @seducing-a-vampire , and beta-read by @stevenuniversestolemyheart (<3).

Read on AO3

Simon was being weird again. Avoiding him. Being evasive and distant.

Baz has been through this once before, and he really doesn’t want to do it again. This game of avoiding one another, almost-talking about feelings, trying to keep hold of a sinking ship. They survived the last time, but just barely. Baz thinks maybe he didn’t do enough then, because it feels like they survived on pure chance. Luck of the draw. Fate had tested their relationship, pushed it almost to the breaking point, then got bored and gave up, and they bounced back. Slightly broken, and a little less idealistic, but realer, and stronger. Different.

Baz couldn’t stand change. He had had enough ‘different’ for a lifetime. This time, the ship won’t even start to sink, because he’s going to stop it.

He’s going to prove to Simon Snow that he’s the best boyfriend around.

At first, Simon was worried about Baz’s birthday. He wanted to make sure it was perfect and special. After everything they’d been through, Baz deserved some happiness and peace. But the moment he thought of his brilliant idea, he relaxed completely. He sunk fully into planning and organizing, devoting hours and days to it, but he wasn’t worried anymore. He was confident.

The grand plan was this; on the morning of February 24th, Simon would show up at Baz’s parents’ house, where Baz was staying for a few weeks. They would have breakfast with Baz’s family, after which, everyone, including Simon, would give Baz his gifts. Simon’s gift will be a pair of jeans, reminiscent of Simon’s first visit to Baz’s house, and a hand-made gift card, entitling Baz to “give Simon Snow a makeover of your choice, including, but not limited to, hair, clothes, and manners.” Baz will laugh and immediately change into the jeans (this was, of course, a crucial part of the plan). They’ll spend the morning with Baz’s family (and maybe some of it in Baz’s room, decidedly away from his family), and then Simon will noncommittally suggest lunch with a few friends. Baz could either accept or decline; this was important in order to make it seem like the day wasn’t orchestrated. In the afternoon they had tickets to see an exhibition at a Normal museum that Baz was buzzed about; this part he was aware of. On the way back from the museum, Simon would suggest walking through a park, where, lo and behold, all of Baz’s friends and family would be waiting with balloons and home-cooked food and cake.

The only problem was that Simon was terrible at keeping secrets, and worse at lying. There was only one solution: he would have to try and avoid Baz for the next few weeks.

February 1st

Mordelia was going to be the death of him. Last night there had been one acceptable clean pair of trousers in his closet. He was sure of it, because he had checked specifically, because he knew that most of his clothes were in the laundry. And now, as he was getting dressed to meet Simon, it was gone. The only things he could find were old trousers that didn’t really fit anymore, and a few pairs of pyjamas.

“Mordelia!” Baz slammed the closet door shut and stormed out of his room. “What did you do with my clothes?! Good morning, Daphne. Mordelia, I’m going to hex you!”

“What?” His little sister peaked innocently out of her room, seemingly trying to shut the door on herself.

“You know what you did. Where are my trousers?”

“Oh, these?” Mordelia bent down and picked something up from the floor behind her.

“Yes, these!” Baz snatched them away angrily. “What on earth did you need them for?”

“Nothing.” She shied away from his inquisitive gaze. “I was, er – I was playing dress up.”

Baz huffed and sighed, but walked away. He didn’t have time for this. The ‘perfect boyfriend’ that he was trying to be was never late. But seriously, who on earth thought that moving back home while he looked for a flat near Simon and Penny was a good idea? Oh, right. All of his friends. His parents too. His siblings were happy to have him. And he wasn’t paying rent.

Simon’s secret phone beeped with a message. Yes, he had gotten burner phones for the Top Secret Baz’s Birthday Surprise operation. Growing up in a Normal orphanage had left its marks, and a love for trashy spy movies was one of them.

The message was from Mordelia, one of his many accomplices, and it contained Baz’s trouser size.

Also, he’s mad at me now. Can you tell him it wasn’t my fault that I had to take his trousers?

You’re brilliant, Simon wrote back. And no! You mustn't tell him either, remember?

Will you buy me sweets?

Only if it makes you shut up and promise not to tell Baz

Alright :)

Fine. Simon saw Baz through the window of the coffee shop and quickly put the phone away. As Baz entered the shop, holding a bouquet of flowers, Simon stood up to wave him over. When he reached the table, Baz gave Simon a quick kiss on the cheek, and held out the bouquet.

Simon accepted the flowers and brought them to his nose to cover his embarrassingly big grin. They didn’t usually kiss in public; Baz was as shy about kissing as he was about eating, and they never knew what seemingly-charming old lady would shoot them a disapproving glare. This was a nice change of pace.

The flowers smelled good, and like they had been kept fresh with magic. Simon wondered what they were called.

“They’re Gerbera daisies,” said Baz, seemingly reading his mind. “Now, what disgustingly sweet monstrosity do you want to drink today?”

Simon couldn’t help but grin again. Avoiding Baz was going to be very, very difficult.

February 5th

Simon picked up a pair of jeans, only to be horrified at the amount of tears and holes it had. There was virtually more empty space than cloth. He quickly put it back down, trying and failing to fold it into the right shape, and moved on to the next display. He was feeling kind of lost. Now that Mordelia had acquired Baz’s trouser size for him, he could actually buy Baz’s present, but this wasn’t his speed at all. Big shopping centres. The actual shopping. Lots of Normals around. Fashion. God, he felt completely lost.

“Need any help?”

Simon turned to find that a chipper employee had appeared behind him. They popped up like mushrooms after the rain. “No, thanks, I think I’ll be fine.” Simon did his best to smile as he spoke, but he guessed that the vibes he was giving off were actually ‘terrified’ and ‘lost’ and perhaps ‘sad puppy’.

The employee seemed doubtful but didn’t push it. She was short, with short hair, and her store-mandated vest was covered with optimistic pins. Her ears reminded him of a pixie.

She had started walking away when Simon changed his mind. “Actually! If you don’t mind, I think I do need help.” Her kind smile encouraged him to continue. “I’m looking for jeans for my… my, er, boyfriend. I’m looking for something without many tears, and not too tight.”

“Do you want me to bring you a few options?”

Simon sighed in relief. “That would be great, thanks.” He told her the size he needed, and she walked purposely towards a rack on the other side of the store. As he watched her pull out different pairs and pile them in her arms, fascinated by her decisiveness, Simon’s phone rang. The regular one, not the burner phone. The phone he had forced Baz to buy with him, so they could talk. Baz, who was the one calling him right now.

Shit, shit, shit. He took a deep breath, finger hesitating above the screen, and let the phone ring almost five full rings before picking up.

“Hey, babe.” Simon closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. He had been going for ‘casual’, but there was nothing casual about pet names with them.

“Babe?” Baz’s incredulous tone was almost enough to make Simon hang up.

“Erm. Yeah. No. Ignore that. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Simon looked nervously around the store. The employee was halfway back to him, still stopping at displays and racks.

“Remember how I told you that Mordelia stole my clothes? Now she’s decided to teach the baby how to play the piano. The sound is deafening. I’ve started taking walks around the garden just to avoid her.”

“Oh, that sounds awful.”

“It is! It really is. Erm, so, I tried to find a reason to get out of the house, and I’m in the coffee shop we like, and they have a sale on chocolates, and I was just wondering if you like marzipan.”

“Erm, yeah, sure. It’s sweet, right? Then sure, I guess I like it.” The employee had almost completed a full round. He’d have to hang up soon.

“What about hazelnut? Or – or, get this, hazelnut coffee.”

“Er…” Simon smiled apologetically at the employee, who was back in front of him, carrying a pile of clothes almost as tall as her. “Yes to hazelnut chocolate, no to the coffee. I, er, I kind of have to go, can we talk later?”

“Sure, I – I guess.” Baz let Simon hang up.

Simon thanked the employee profusely and started going through the pile of jeans.

Baz pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the blank screen, disappointed. Mordelia really was trying to teach the baby to play the piano, that much was true, but it wasn’t the reason he was looking at chocolates. He was trying to do something nice for Simon, and his boyfriend was still acting weird and pulling away. That had to have been the shortest phone conversation they’d had since Simon had forced him to buy the damn thing. What could he have possibly done wrong?

Baz paid for the chocolate in a stupor and left the store deflated.

February 10th

Dearest Basilton,

No. Simon crossed out the words. Who was he, Baz’s grandmother? Wait. Did Baz have a grandmother? Obviously, genetically, he had to have grandmothers. But were they alive? How could Simon not know this? He’d have to ask him.

Simon shook his head and stared at the paper.

Baz, he started again. Simple and personal. You already know how much I love you.

Simon chewed on his pen. No: I hope you already know how much I love you.

But birthdays are a time to state the obvious again. So, I love you, I love you, I love you. You’re the best person I know. The bravest, the strongest, the most resolute person I know. The smartest. Wait, nevermind. Second smartest. Stop glaring at me and read the rest of the card.

I love how good you are with your siblings. How patient and gentle you are with me when I need it most. I love how dramatic you are, and how dramatic our story is. I love that you’re looking for a flat near me and Penny. Maybe eventually we’ll be looking for a flat near Penny. I hope so. I hope we get there.

I wish you the best birthday ever. The best fucking birthday anyone on this planet has ever had, Baz. And an incredible year. And an amazing life after that. You deserve it. I’ll be there to share that year and that life with you, for as long as I can.

Well. If all goes according to plan, you’ll be reading this in front of your family, and I don’t want you to sob like a baby in front of them, so I’ll stop now. But I just need you to know that you matter, so much.

Love,

Me.

There. Perfect. Simon started copying the words from the draft paper to the card.

Baz glanced at the recipe again to make sure. Three quarters cup of butter wasn’t going to be enough for his boyfriend. He turned back to the counter and filled the cup to the brim with melted butter.

As he poured the butter from the cup to the bowl, he heard Mordelia’s small, barefoot steps entering the kitchen, and then he was attacked from behind with a waist-height hug.

“Hey!” He turned around, pretending to be mad. “Never put your sticky little hands on my clothes again. As your punishment, you now have to help me bake.” He lifted her onto the counter and she giggled. “Here, take this and mix the batter.”

Mordelia turned to the bowl beside her and started mixing with great concentration as Baz added the rest of the ingredients. Mordelia helped him shape the batter into scones, and when they came out of the oven, round and fresh and smelling like the feeling of home and lazy mornings and butter, he let her have one.

The rest of the scones went with Baz to Simon and Penny’s flat. Baz hardly bothered to knock these days. He had a key to the flat, but since Simon was the world’s biggest airhead, the door was usually left unlocked. It was the first in a long list of things that both Baz and Penny chided him on.

He called out as he entered, but spotted Simon almost immediately, sitting at the kitchen table with a look of intense concentration. When he noticed his boyfriend, Simon quickly shoved the piece of paper he was working on under the napkin holder.

“What’s that?” Baz gestured to the table.

Simon waved his hand, trying to blow away the question, but he looked a bit worried. “It’s nothing.” He enveloped Baz in a hug and a kiss. “Are these scones for me?”

Baz nodded. “Home baked.”

Simon’s thrilled yell startled Penny out of her room. The three of them spent a cozy afternoon together, eating scones and watching movies, but Baz couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Simon was hiding something from him.

February 14th

Valentine’s day wasn’t nearly as big a deal for mages as it was for Normals, but Simon had told Baz all about what it was like for Normals a few months ago. Apparently, they went completely out of their way to show their partners that they loved them. To Baz, it seemed kind of obvious that people liked who they’re dating. But apparently Normals bought ridiculous gifts, like huge teddy bears that were completely impractical, or much too much chocolate for one person.

Actually, in Simon’s case, there was no such thing as too much chocolate. Baz supposed the whole ordeal was kind of sweet. At least, it was sweet how excited Simon got over the holiday. So he decided to surprise him with a date.

He was currently at a Normal shopping centre, making preparations. Baz looked at the bags he was holding, wondering if anything was missing. He had bought a teddy bear (medium sized, so it could fit on Simon’s bed); a box of chocolates (not heart shaped, God forbid); a bouquet of red and white roses (these, Baz could appreciate the value of); and a box of pastries (chock-full of butter, of course). It seemed like enough, until a colorful stall caught Baz’s eye. In a clear plastic case sat a pile of colorful heart shaped candies, engraved with cheesy-sweet sentiments. Kiss me. First love. Be mine. Baz thought that some grubby little child had probably put their dirty hands all over the candy. Simon, on the other hand, would love them. Baz added a bag of the candies to his shopping pile.

Next was picking up Simon’s favorite dishes at an Italian restaurant they liked, and finally, picking Simon up and taking him on a surprise picnic in the park.

Simon didn’t usually bake, but since he wanted everything to be special on his boyfriend’s perfect birthday, he had announced to Penny and Agatha that he was going to make the cake himself. They had promptly laughed in his face, and then offered to teach him how to bake.

At the time, Simon had protested that there was always a recipe, and you didn’t need to learn how to bake. Now he couldn’t be happier that the girls had convinced him to make a practice cake, especially after Baz’s scones had set the bar pretty high. Apparently, there was a certain cup size you had to use for measurements, and there were different types of flour for different types of doughs, and some people (Simon included) needed to break a few eggs wrong before they could break an egg right.

So the brisk knock at the door, followed by Baz’s voice floating in, couldn’t have come at a worse time. Simon was wearing Penny’s ridiculous apron, which had the names of classical composers printed haphazardly all over it in strange angles, and he was covered in flour and a milk stain.

“Shit. What do I do?”

Agatha pulled the apron off Simon’s neck and patted most of the flour off his shirt. “Make up some excuse, if you can.”

Simon walked around the corner to the front of the house tentatively. “Hey!”

Baz flourished yet another bouquet of flowers. What had gotten into him lately? “Hello. I’ve come to steal you for a few hours.”

“Oh, it’s… it’s not the best time. Er, Agatha is here, and, erm, she and Penny really want me to bake this cake with them…. Can we please reschedule for tomorrow?”

“Actually, we can’t. You can bake a cake any other time. Oh, it smells good…” Baz started to walk towards the kitchen, but Simon quickly got in his way. “Snow, what are you doing? I would like to say hello to Penny and Agatha.”

“Snow?” Simon seemed dumbfounded. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

Baz sighed. “I’m sorry. It just feels like you’ve been pulling away from me lately. Which makes me feel like we’re in school again. Which is one of the reasons you need to come with me right now, because I planned a lovely date for us, and the food is getting cold.”

Simon ran a hand through his hair, mussing up the curls. “Give me three minutes, and then we can leave, okay? This is really sweet. Thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll say hello to the girls and then wait in the car. I’m not sure that it isn’t going to get towed away.”

“Erm, no. I – I need three minutes first, and then you can say hello.” Simon hurried into the kitchen and shut the door firmly behind him, feeling very guilty. “Ladies. We need to wrap this up. I told him we were baking a cake, but he probably expects something much… smaller than this.”

Penny looked back and forth between the multi-layered cake and the door, behind which stood Baz. “We’re just about done. It needs to go into the refrigerator for a few hours.”

Agatha shook her head. “He might want to see it if it’s in the refrigerator.” She picked the cake up carefully and slid it gracefully into the oven.

Penny, ever the rule stickler, looked shocked. “You – you can’t. It’s a chilled cake.”

“Just trust me, okay?” She shut the oven door just as Baz opened the door.

“Simon, this is ridiculous. Hello, Wellbelove, Bunce. Please tell my idiot boyfriend that he can bake with you any other time, and that today is Valentine’s Day, which he was excited about, and he has to come with me before our food gets cold.”

“That sounds like kidnapping.”

Agatha, ever the peacemaker, shot Penny a glare. “I personally couldn’t agree more. We actually just put the cake in the oven, so it’s the perfect time for Simon to leave.”

“The oven… isn’t on.”

“We’re using magic. That’s why it doesn’t look turned on. Penelope wanted to practice her heating magic. Right, Penny?” Agatha sickly-sweet smile still held a remnant of the murderous glare.

“Erm… yes. Exactly. Simon, go and have fun. It is Valentine’s Day, after all. We’ve got this.”

February 24th

The last week and a half before Baz’s birthday passed uneventfully. He and Simon toured a few apartments and had some nights out, but neither one had any more steps to their plan. Simon was done with his. Baz was just exhausted and out of ideas.

In Simon’s opinion, Baz’s birthday passed without a hitch. He showed up at the Pitch manor at the appointed time. Breakfast, presents, and a lazy morning all went according to plan. Baz even teared up a little when reading his card.

“You’re such a sap, Sn– Simon. I– I love you too.” Baz embraced him, but Simon was practically buzzing with giddiness and pushed him off.

“Open the rest of it!”

“This gift card entitles you to–” Baz burst out laughing. “That’s incredible. I am definitely using it in the next week. And this is… jeans. These are jeans. You probably want me to change into them right now, don’t you?” Baz walked into the guest bathroom accompanied by excited cheers from both Simon and his siblings, and emerged wearing a snug pair of jeans to excited claps and whoops from his parents.

Later, in Baz’s room, Simon decided it was time for a little digging. “Do you… this is a bit random.” He picked at Baz’s duvet absentmindedly. “Do you still have grandmothers?”

“Daphne’s parents live an hour away. We see them once a month or so.”

“And your biological grandparents…?”

Baz shook his head minutely.

“Oh! It’s one already! I told Penny I would let her know– your dead relatives are fascinating and everything, but do you want to have lunch with the girls? Maybe Dev and Niall?”

“My dead relatives are fascinating, don’t disrespect them like that.” Baz broke out in a smile. Maybe Simon’s cold patch was over. “Sure. Let’s have lunch.”

Later, much later, they were walking on a lamp lit street, arms hooked together and frosty breaths mingling in the air, and Simon leaned his head on Baz’s shoulder. “I have to admit, that exhibition was actually interesting.”

“I know. Robert was a genius. But I’m still having a bit of a hard time believing that you enjoyed an art exhibition so much.” Baz could feel Simon shaking with laughter beside him, his warm body pressed to his shoulder to hip. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. He really didn’t. But… “Simon. We should talk.”

Simon picked his head up and Baz immediately missed the comforting weight on his shoulder. “Huh?”

“You’ve been distant lately. As if you don’t really want to spend time with me.”

“Don’t be silly. I love you. Here, let’s walk through this park.” Simon was barely listening, pulling on Baz’s sleeve to steer him towards a lit patch of grass.

Baz took a deep breath. “You’re avoiding my questions again. It feels… It feels like you’re hiding something from me.”

Simon stopped walking and looked back at him with sudden realization. “Something like… your birthday surprise?”

Baz squinted at the park ahead of them. Were those...?

“Don’t be silly. I would never hide anything from you. Not again.” Simon reached up and kissed Baz sweetly. “Now come on. Everybody is waiting for us. I’m in charge of bringing the birthday boy, and it’s too simple a job to mess up.”

Baz let Simon lead the way. He didn’t want him to see the ridiculous grin that he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face.

#snowbaz #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #penny bunce #agatha wellbelove #mordelia grimm #mineltg #my writing #carryonsource #rainbow rowell #snowbaz sweethearts exchange

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wordsfromafangirl · 3 years

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@cookiedoughmeagain

Saw this post.

Answered some of the questions.

Long post warning. Spoilers too for those who haven't seen the show or want to. Bare with. I did mostly answer Nathan and Duke oriented questions and there's no way I can answer those without shipper goggles on, sorry. Also, I think Haven left a lot of holes for the audience to fill in about the town. Don't know if that was intentional, but I often found myself wound up in subtext, things that could happen off screen with just those one lines, like you brought up about hijinx and illegal things Nathan might've done but we never see or really hear about.

For many of the questions concerning Vince and Dave, I just kind of assumed that half the time they were the old guys of Haven who kept its secrets and so anything they did was always suspect. They covered up the truth. They basically tried to keep their involvement a secret (all the time). Look at Vince and how he was the apparent leader of the Guard to keep troubles in check and help those (with mostly volatile and uncontrollable troubles) in need, but the Guard looked like that oppressive middle ground where they sometimes play both sides with or without Vince in charge…? Personally, Vince and Dave would be the sus people of the town. They know everything and sure when they are giving me my Haven newspaper everything seems peachy, but how far could you delude a town until it starts asking questions or rather everything implodes, and everyone just knows? Not an inner circle of people, the whole town knows now either because they were newly given a trouble or because they finally caught on that Haven was not a “normal” town. Vince and Dave are the gossipers and busy bodies but kept (dare I say) hypocritical secrets of their own? (<And this could answer the very last question about why they'd write an article if they knew, but memories were wonky that day except for knowing they found "The Colorado Kid" dead...?)

Now onto the questions that really got me curious:

5. What was Evi doing working with the Rev? Was she genuinely simply trying to help Duke, or was she working an angle? Did she know about the Troubles? What did she think the Rev’s motivation was? What were her final words (“If you don’t tell him, I will.”) about?

Honestly, this intrigued me, but I assumed Evi had to know. Didn’t she also mention something about Duke being powerful? I do not know, it has been a while since I watched it, but she had to know about the troubles. The Rev must have filled her in that Duke is a vital part of the plan but as my mind goes back to 2x09; in order to sway Duke, they could not allow Nathan to oversee anything. Nathan would stand in Duke’s way because it is someone who can convince him otherwise. Someone who would see the use of Duke’s trouble as “wrong” and uncontrollable and always try to stop him. Of course, we know there is more emotional ties between the boys that would make Duke stop and think about abusing his trouble. Or not even at this point because in 2x09 Nathan has no qualms about locking Duke up even if that meant they would (as they did) shoot Evi. Nathan could not stand the thought of Duke being injured?? I am digressing from the point, because you mention, “if you don’t tell him, I will” and that must mean she knew about the trouble(s)? She knew what Duke could be capable of, but they had to get Nathan out of the way? Literally, the Rev wanted to attempt assassinating Audrey and mostly Nathan because…that is the one person who would be in Duke’s way…in the guise of the Rev’s prejudiced mind when dealing with people who had troubles…then in the end look who Duke ends up siding with? "Just so you know I'm the lion."

6. On one of the commentaries there is talk of how Duke and Nathan got up to “hijinks” together as teenagers. WHAT WERE THE HIJINKS?

Many of their HIJINKS were probably pranks, you know. Duke would mostly prank Nathan of course and then occasionally Nathan finds himself wrapped up in one against other people. Or they are the kids riding around on their bikes (like the IT gang) and just causing a ruckus? They could be in a group. Yet I think sometimes Nathan and Duke ventured off alone…

I think if you consider off screen hijinks as teenagers it is probably why Duke acts so snubbed towards Nathan all the time. If you think about it, Duke lost a friend who would be the “bad boy” with him. Nathan turned into stuffy, stick up his butt Nathan either A. because of his trouble or B. because he had to follow in Garland’s footsteps and be a cop. It reminds me of Harmony right there at the beginning of the show, episode 3? Nathan is lying about everything, according to Duke and so he is being a Pinocchio like usual; not a real boy, which is also in reference to “his condition” of feeling no pain/nothing. And it is probably because Nathan was a “bad boy” and the only one who keeps that information in confidence is Duke. Nathan wants to keep it that way. Duke never really tells anyone anything and truthfully, he just likes fucking with “law-abiding” Nathan. Duke of course misses those times when they were teenagers just messing about and getting heckled by Garland, but maybe once or twice getting cuffs slapped on them only to be let go an hour later? Sooner or later, Duke would see that shift. Nathan would start becoming interested in law enforcement and Duke seeks a path towards smuggling/criminal activity. Duke is the only one being arrested by the time they are 17-30 and sometimes it is by Nathan (small head canon: Duke does it on purpose. He is an attention seeker and hell if he does not like Nathan putting him in handcuffs). Then suddenly Duke has up and vanished for a little while (guessing from 30 to 35ish? Or some time frame shorter). Nathan would lie about missing him, but because his trouble was activated how does Nathan really know? He just knows, but never admits it, hence the whole love/hate game we get between them when Duke does come back.

24. In Harmony Duke says something to Nathan about “does she know the things you’ve done?” - implying that when they were younger Nathan did something illegal and/or possibly immoral that Duke knows about (because he was also involved?) but most people (or at least, Audrey) don’t. WHAT THINGS?

Primarily? IT’S LOOKING THE OTHER WAY WHEN DUKE DOES SOMETHING ILLEGAL. It is essentially just being there as a participant while Duke breaks and enters? Or being there while Duke is smuggling something because I venture to think that business started early on for Duke. 18ish and onward? It is giving Duke a pass once, twice, three times and more. Nathan cannot be mad at Duke. Then there is maybe those few times is it was Nathan picking the lock. It was Nathan doing something illegal and Duke of course did not care. He would look the other way or help him along. This is something that would always stay between Nathan and Duke, which is why I think the relationship is so rocky. Duke is holding secrets that could jeopardize Nathan’s “law abiding” reputation and he never once tells a soul, right? This is a testament to loyalty and how neither of them hates each other. Of course, for me, from space they can be seen as exes. The on and off type of relationship because Duke’s smuggling business got in the way or as I think of it, Nathan got so tired of Duke being sort of unchanging that he would break it off and then suddenly he had run back to Duke, hop on the boat and beg to be taken back. Duke would chuckle and take him back. Was this secret? Or did the whole town see it? Most likely people knew, even Garland. Not so sure Simon approved, but somehow while their relationship was fucked up and Simon ends up dying, I don't think Duke necessarily sought his approval on anything? Truthfully, his feelings for Nathan were his business alone and Nathan mostly felt the same way so who cares?

26. What’s Duke’s side of the story about the fishing trip when Nathan’s Trouble got triggered?

Duke knows he fucked up.He used Nathan as a distraction while some illegal procedures were happening underneath his nose. Nathan thinks oh well maybe I still have a friend, because they’re probably in the middle of their: “Oh, seriously, Duke. Put your hands behind your back.” “Oh, come on Nathan, can you just this once not.” Too late. Nathan grabs his wrists and puts his hands behind his back. Duke feels the familiarity of handcuffs and smirks his whole to Nathan’s Bronco. Ironically.

If I track it right Nathan’s trouble was triggered on this fishing trip before Duke left Haven right? So therefore, this was probably to make amends? It might have been that good old let us just actually hang out as friends (or more…because my brain goes there) but it turns out I need you as my cover while shady shit goes on in town. Nathan finds out. They fight. It triggers the trouble. And presumably Duke feels so guilty and thus he decides to leave. Or he had already decided and did not know how to tell Nathan on the fishing trip, but part of leaving and getting out of dodge meant also doing some smuggling for parts, money etc.

35. Wouldn’t Nathan have recognised Duke in The Colorado Kid photo? (Especially given that he would very probably have seen the photo when he was a kid?) And wouldn’t he have told Audrey that from the beginning?

Everyone’s memory was effed up right? So perhaps Nathan did not remember? Though, you are right. Nathan would have recognized him. Would he have told Audrey? Not so sure, because Nathan would be in that battle inside his head. How far can I trust Audrey? I immediately liked her. Duke does too. That should mean she is great. But Duke is kinda sorta my friend…my ugh whatever, tell him or do not tell him? Imagine Nathan knowing about the photo before Duke reveals to Audrey that it is him…and so Nathan is sitting in his house waiting for coffee to cool off and contemplating…I could tell Audrey. It is crucial information, and I don’t know why Duke isn’t saying anything? Is there a reason? Should I talk to him first? Then at one point he just gives up and lets Audrey continue playing detective in hopes Duke would just fess up. For me, Nathan is in a constant battle of loyalty when it comes to Duke and Audrey, but when he realizes that Duke cares just as much about Audrey...(okay, we're not talking about threegulls and the relationship that is the three of them...)

23. Were there ever any female Crockers? If there were, would they have had the same curse?

Hey! There is a female Crocker isn’t there? Or does she since she cannot even be near Dad at all, inherit the trouble of the dock worker only? Whose name slips my mind. But I venture to think that Duke’s blood would overcome that, but the baby had life draining powers because that was the trouble of the dock worker. Baby after baby only to suck the life out of the father like some metaphorical siren.

Personally, I always think that if the babies survive and we know she did, then I think by the time she’s a teen all life draining powers would just go away [because I assume that’s the curse, never being able to keep the baby but the baby doesn’t get the full curse; however what about duke’s trouble [at this point is his trouble is inactive like a volcano, but can it still be passed on? Volcanoes sit there and stew so the genetic thing of the trouble must still be there…isn't it implicated that families still have the trouble but can go on without it being activated?]…anyway, Duke’s blood is taking over and she finally realizes something funky is going on so she searches out her father because Nathan made sure to tell the adoption services that any parents who fosters or even adopts her down the road they should tell her that her real father is out there and he did not, would not just abandon a baby (even if it happened in real time and not some sped up sci-fi version).

Basically, in any version (in my head) of the Crocker bloodline, Duke is probably the first to have a girl and yes she'd get the same trouble, because imagine a badass woman who looks like Duke manage the Crocker trouble (the eye thing). It seems to me though that it was bloodlines/legacy that stuck with men because apparently boys were it in the Crocker family. And many other families seemed that way too. Some troubles seemed bound by legacy born from the men and carried on, etc. I like to think that Duke subverted all that shit. And funny enough, his trouble went away at one point, but I think if there were ever any female Crockers? If there were, would they have had the same curse? If there were that baby girl could have still had it. Meaning his fate could have been different if they played an angle of that daughter coming back into the story. Someone else who had Duke’s trouble and then of course, it would turn into a reason for Duke to live (still bitter because I’m being biased as to who is my favorite in the Haven world). Imagine juxtaposition story lines of Dwight and Duke fighting… Duke: “She’s my daughter!” Dwight: “Well, that’s my daughter too!” Then they would both just take a deep breath and realize they are fighting on the same side.

Okay, so I am blowing smoke with an answer to this question but really, I see it and go, damn, I wish we could have seen more of Duke being fatherly. I mean we got the pirate episode of him taking care of that young girl who could manipulate your will, but honestly, Duke raising a kid…

Much of this may not be an answer at all. It's head canon really, because often with Haven I felt like I had to fill in experiences of the characters. Mostly did so with Nathan and Duke, individually and then together. However, there's something about this show, because questions always pop up even when you revisit it. Like wait a minute? What? Was this intentional? How in the world did this happen? Sure, we'll just accept some things even if it's strangely abnormal to the plot, but after all it's Haven.

#haven syfy #duke crocker #audrey parker #nathan wuornos #long post

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kentuckywrites · 3 years

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Imperium 2: Chapter 1

Gratam mundi. (Welcome to the world.)

Elma decided, somewhere in the middle of Secretary Nagi’s speech, that it was a crime to schedule meetings during sunny days. BLADE Tower’s top floor was partially surrounded by windows, giving a full view to the city outside. The sunlight teased those inside with a considerable glare, a promise that nothing would dare stand in its way. For once, the meeting flew by, and Elma retained only bits and pieces of it, longing to escape outside. Maybe she could convince Lin to take the day off and come along for a picnic. Goodness knows, she hadn’t had the chance to sit down and truly relax, not even after the Lifehold was found.

The meeting was partially about that, after all. After her mission to the Lifehold, she’d discovered that the Lifehold had been flooded. On all accounts, everyone with a mimeosome in the city should have collapsed, never to wake up. And yet, something - something - was keeping the Lifehold in working order. Even the Outfitters couldn’t place what was powering the Lifehold, and they’d dug for a while trying to figure it out. Somewhere along the months and months of research, things shifted, and instead the focus was on using the Lifehold to create real human bodies. The meeting was a debrief on what the Outfitters had put together on the matter, which didn’t amount to much, unfortunately. Those systems were damaged after the crash, after the Ganglion attack, after the Vita and Luxaar and Lao and those hideous, awful chimeras. Elma shuddered at the memory.

When Nagi dismissed everyone, Elma was, regrettably, not the first one out the door. She made small talk with Nagi as the first group of people crammed into the elevator, waited for them to head down, waited for the elevator to come back up and take her to the first floor. It was quiet, thankfully, and when she stepped out into the bright summer air, she inhaled, exhaled. Freedom never tasted so sweet.

Elma took a few steps down the stairs, her goal in mind. She’d ask Lin about that picnic, maybe rope Gwin and Irina into joining them. She made the turn into Armory Alley and quickly spotted Lin, who was talking with L at his shop. She was holding something rather long in her hands. A pipe, of some kind? Elma couldn’t imagine what it was at first glance. As she grew closer, she caught some of the conversation.

“...from the interior of a xe-dom! Ferocious mechanical beasts, mind you, and so the part you hold is the rarest sight indeed!”

“Ooh, a xe-dom? What did it do? What was it connected to? Maybe I can incorporate it into this new Skell weapon I’m designing -”

“We believe that it - ah, Elma!” L caught sight of Elma, who approached Lin’s right side and peered at the pipe curiously.

“Elma!” Lin chirped, “How’d the meeting go? Any update on getting our real bodies back?”

Elma shook her head. “Unfortunately, not much progress has been made yet. It’ll be a while before we can say for certain when the Outfitters will be able to finish repairs to the Lifehold.”

“Aw man,” Lin sighed, “Well, it’s still good to hear that work’s being done. I still can’t believe I wasn’t recruited to help with that.”

“Your skills are far more valuable in the city than out there,” She said, “I know it doesn’t feel like much of anything, but trust me. The work you’ve been doing on Skells here is crucial.”

“I know, I know.”

Lin turned back to L, whose hands were clasped. He was leaning in slightly, as if he was trying to better hear the news Elma had brought along. “Hey L, how much did you say this would be again?”

“Ah, we are so pleased that your interested is picked!” L cheered, “It would be a mere five thousand credits for such a fine -”

“Deal!” Lin juggled her new pipe and her comm device as she transferred the credits over to L’s device. He smiled as his own device pinged with the newly received credits, and Lin quickly put her comm device away to admire her purchase. “Man oh man...L, would you let me know if you find any more of these?”

“But of course! We shall keep your name reserved and primed for any incoming materials of that nature,” L nodded, “Does anything else swipe your curiosities this fine afternoon?”

Elma spoke up before Lin could properly respond. “Actually, L, do you have time to spare today? I was thinking of taking the rest of the day off and inviting some friends along for a picnic out in Primordia. The weather’s beautiful for it.”

“Ooh, a picnic? Please tell me I’m invited,” Lin begged, “I need an excuse to get out of the workshop. Feels like I’ve been holed up in there for centuries!!”

“Of course you’re invited, Lin.”

“Yay!!”

L sighed wistfully. “We so wish to join, but our dearest assistant is out today, and we are tasked with managing this stand with our own two hands.”

“Is Jejebba okay?” Lin asked, concerned.

“Ah, he is doing most wonderfully!” L shook his hands in defense, “He is merely engaging in celebratory festivities. A friend of his recently partook in what humans would call ‘marriage’, and their party has since moved to Army Pizza.”

“I didn’t know Ma-non got married…” Lin wondered out loud, “I guess you learn something new every day.”

“That’s a shame, L,” Elma said, “Perhaps another day, then.” She turned to Lin, glancing at the pipe still in her hands before asking, “Do you know where Pongo is? We could ask him to come along.”

“Like a big family reunion!” Lin said, “Man, I haven’t seen him in ages, actually. What about you, L, has he stopped by recently?”

L put a thoughtful finger to his chin. “We don’t believe he has, not in quite some time. Last we heard, he was assigned to a tippy top secret mission!”

“Did it have anything to do with...the you know what?”

Elma watched L’s expression change in mere seconds. Of course, they both knew what Lin was referring to. It seemed like only yesterday that they’d seen Pongo walking through the city again, renewed and alive after the events in Cauldros. And it felt surreal, knowing that he was never truly human. Pongo was, in fact, an avatar of Mira, a creation of the sentient planet that it could inhabit and influence. From what Pongo had explained, his relationship with Mira was somewhat tense. They were both learning about what it meant to share a body, and though Elma couldn’t quite relate to his plight, she was proud of how Pongo was handling things.

Well...proud of most of it. She couldn’t admit to it out loud, but hearing about how he needed to sacrifice himself, watching him fall into Mount M’Gando without a second thought...it scared her. Not much could affect her, but many things on Mira had, and she knew many things on Mira would continue to haunt her. Even now, hearing that Pongo had been away on this mission for a while, she couldn’t help but worry. He was an incredibly strong companion, and it had been an honor watching him grow and improve. But he was always self-sacrificing, always cared about others more than himself. He couldn’t stop crossing the line, let alone draw the line himself.

And that worried look on L’s face...Elma thought of all the possibilities, good and bad. What did he know that they didn’t? Did he harbor the same fears?

“He would have informed us if his mission were to do with Mira,” L said, after a long pause. “He only managed to provide small cutouts of his true intent, but neglected to tell us specifics. From what we gathered, Pongo is the conductor of some form of treasure hunt.”

Some of the tension in Elma’s shoulders released, and Lin got stars in her eyes, blissfully ignorant of her and L’s concern. “Now that sounds exciting!! Forget working on the Lifehold or Skells, Miran buried treasure sounds awesome!”

“I bet he’ll tell us all about it once he returns,” Elma said, “For now, Lin, shall we prepare for the picnic?”

“Heck yeah!” She waved goodbye to L, who waved back with a somewhat forced smile. “See ya later, L! Thanks again for the pipe!”

“It is our pleasure!” L replied as they walked further away, his attention suddenly shifting to a new potential customer that had approached his shop. Elma led Lin down Armory Alley, who was skipping along with a pep in her step. It relieved Elma’s tensions further, seeing the young Outfitter look so full of life. Perhaps her concerns were a little misguided, rooted in previous encounters. After all, Pongo was a capable young man, and he could hold his own in a fight. She only hoped that whatever treasure he was after, he was cautious in his approach and took the right measures to -

“Elma?”

Elma blinked, realizing she had become lost in her thoughts. Lin was tugging her arm gently, the pipe cradled in her elbow, and she was using her other hand to point further ahead. Elma squinted. There was nothing terribly interesting up ahead, save for the usual tents, some Skells walking past, BLADEs whispering to each other as a woman, tattered and beaten, walked through the East Gate -

Wait a minute.

Elma didn’t waste any time in rushing forward. Even though everyone around her looked on with slight horror, she could only see that the woman was badly hurt, and she’d need help fast. She made it to the woman just in time to catch her as she fell, and Elma let her head rest on her shoulder. Her entire body was covered in blood, bruises, open gashes leaking blue...but at least, doing a quick once-over, nothing vital had been damaged. All flesh wounds, in an ironic twist.

Lin was by Elma’s side in a matter of seconds, her comm device out and scanning over the woman’s body. Some small beeps resonated from the device, and Lin looked up at Elma, frowning. “She seems okay, based on the scan. Maybe we should get her to the MMC just in case.”

“No...no.”

Elma was shocked when she heard the woman speak. She lifted her head slightly, her short black hair tickling Elma’s nose. Underneath her hair, Elma could see light skin, some scratches on her face, and…

Her eyes. Indigo, pupiless.

Just like Pongo’s.

“You must be Elma,” The woman gave a weak smile, “Sorry we had to meet like this. But...but I need your help. Pongo’s in trouble.”

Elma’s heart sank to her stomach. Lin’s eyes went wide, and any stars left over from her astonishment at the pipe vanished.

“You know Pongo?” Lin asked a question that Elma knew the probable answer to, but she wouldn’t be certain until she heard it from the woman’s lips.

The woman tried to sit herself up straighter, but Elma kept her hands on her forearms to make sure she didn’t fall again. She spoke again, after forcing a light giggle.

“I’m...well, I’m his sister. I’m Nessa-vara’is, but you can call me Nessa for short.”

#xenoblade x #Imperium 2: Chapter 1 #SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKERS #I said I'd be taking a break but #I have SO MANY IDEAS #anyways I hope everyone's ready for the inevitable angst #:3 #>:3

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whirlybirdwhat · 4 years

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East Sea of Monsters - Chapter 19

Thatch loves his new brothers, but something is stalking him in the dark and its not friendly. Also ft. the spade pirates

Read the entire series on Ao3 for better quality and author’s notes, especially warnings for content within the fic!! Tag “Ficart” on my blog should also show some fanart and podfics for this fic, as well as the link to translations! give them some love!

Thatch - Paranoia

There is something on the ship. Thatch doesn’t know what it is or what it looks like, or even if it's corporeal, but he knows one thing.

One.

Thing.

And that is that this creature is trying to eat through all of the Moby’s food stores, one meat slice at a time.

He laments such claims to Marco and Ace, who are training on deck.

“It’s horrible! Absolutely horrendous! I woke up this morning to three – three, Ace, three! – carvings of that sea king from yesterday gone! Gone! And I have no idea what’s causing it, and I’m 99% sure it’s stalking me!” He flails dramatically out, but dead serious in his words. There’s been something in the shadows of late, something he can’t sense with his haki, and little (and not so little) scratches outside his door at night. He’s not the sort to be serious about personal danger, so he explains it as best he can.

Through jokes.

Ace laughs at him, throwing his head back and mirth clear in his eye.

Thatch is proud of him, their newest brother of only two months. He’s going to be second division commander in a week, not that he knows it yet, and Thatch is just so, so proud of him.

He’s so far from the angry creature that stalked around deck and threw himself, with the intent to kill, at Whitebeard every day.

In the sunlight, without the shadows of his usual hiding places, Ace looks even happier than before.

(Thatch could give a description of him, talk about his freckles or the way he smiles, but feels like anything he could say could never truly describe, well, Ace. His eyes are never truly the color Thatch think’s they are and his smile is just so pointy in certain lights, that Thatch often jokes about his feral nature. But, more than these oddities is the way Ace looks ashy and cracked when he suddenly pops into view and his smile too wide and skin covered in darkness and his fingers tipped in sharp edged claws.

It’s nothing, supposedly, just figures of the mind but Thatch wonders when it seems like Ace is burning from the inside out and not because of his fruit.)

Marco swipes at Ace for getting distracted and then gives Thatch a look. “Have you tried trapping it? Stalking it back?”

He doesn’t ask are you sure it’s even there because Thatch knows it has been clawing at Marco’s door as well.

(Deeper gouges, the scent of ash at sunrise, different from the cooling unburning flames of the phoenix.

And Marco hadn’t noticed it with Haki either)

Thatch huffs, flopping further on the crate he’s using as a table. “Yep. Pulled three all-nighters and tried three different types of traps in the galley, and only wound up with paranoia and giving Jim from Third Division a broken toe.”

Marco winces at that, because getting that means you go down to the infirmary, where their medical staff’s age is ten times worse than any injury.

(They seem to have a soft spot for Ace – Thatch doesn’t know if it’s because Ace is stupidly polite to them, or just makes this confused look when they imply they should be the ones to help his injuries.

Ace tends to go to Deuce more often, (something about fire proof bandages?) but still, the soft spot is there. Thatch has used Ace to get out of trouble for kitchen injuries once or twice.)

“Have you tried bait?”

“Yeah.”

“Ambush?”

“That’s what the all-nighters were for.”

“Asking for help?”

“That’s what I’m doing now.”

“How about- “

Before Marco can give another useless bit of information, Ace cuts in. “Have you tried just, hunting it?”

“Observation Haki isn’t working on the thing.” Thatch explains, casting aside the idea.

Ace’s brow furrows, as if Thatch is an idiot. “I never hunted with haki, you don’t need it.” There’s something more to his frown, something sharp peeking out, but Thatch dismisses it.

“Yeah? You want to try then?” Thatch challenges him.

“Sure, it’s been a while.”

And that’s the start of it.

Thatch leaves Ace to his hunting, trusting that he’ll get the work done or give up trying, but that doesn’t stop him from curiously observing his new brother.

“Doesn’t that hinder your grip?” Thatch asks, referring to Ace’s right hand.

“Hm?” Ace says from his position at the top of their storage hold’s rafters.

“Your right hand.”

“Oh! Nah, I’m used to it. Say, pass me the turkey?”

“To eat or for bait?”

“Uh. Both?”

Thatch laughs and almost misses the way a part of Ace’s body seems to sink into the rafters. He tries to ignore it, he really does, but he can’t even tell if he saw it in the first place.

What.

Ace notices his stares. “Thatch?” He asks in that concerned voice of his, which sends all sorts of guilt up Thatch’s spine.

“Uh, nothing!” He searches for a new topic. “How’d you lose it, anyway?”

Shit! Not like that! Could be sensitive you dolt!

The ever present watching invisible creature seems to agree in Thatch’s mind.

Ace’s body (which gets all fuzzy, save for the tattoos, when Thatch stares to long, which he associates with the flame-flame fruit) is missing a crucial part.

“My pinky?”

His right pinky is a stub, stretched with scratched scars, like teeth dragging over skin that didn’t sink in on the hand until the base.

(Thatch is growing increasingly concerned as he swears he saw those marks glowing, he did, he did but he can’t say anything, can he? He can’t mention how the pinky stub itself has something dark around it, like a promise, like a curse, can he, without seeming insane and untrusting?)

“Yeah.” Doesn’t seem to be a sensitive subject, because Ace looks down at his missing finger with a grin.

“Just something that happened when I was a kid. Accidents happen when you live where I lived.”

“And where did you live?”

“A bandit den, for a while.”

“What.”

“Then a trash heap, just for a bit. Place was fun, lots of fights.”

“What.”

“Built a treehouse too though we grew out of it.”

“Oh my god.”

“What?” Ace looks confused and it would be funny if it didn’t…

“This explains so much, oh hell.” Thatch rubs a hand over his face. No wonder Ace is half feral, it’s a miracle he learned manners at all. He ignores Ace’s face and changes the subject. He’ll wait till Ace brings it up with the others, then he’ll tease him about it mercilessly. “You done?”

“Yep! If your little thief is who I think it is this should catch ‘em.” Ace looks proudly at his contraption in the rafters – a bed of blankets with a few slices of meat in a bowl. “Can’t believe I didn’t know he crept on here the bastard. Should have known anyway.”

“Wait, you know who-” Thatch is interrupted by a deep mrrowh? Coming from his left. He turns, catches a glimpse of Ace smiling, and is greet with the vision of an absolutely monstrous cat.

It looks like a lynx with simply monstrous fangs – but that’s the thing. It only looks like it and the way its eyes are wide and unseeing… well…

“What.” Thatch says as Ace makes a delighted noise.

“Kotatsu you little bastard! There you are! C’mere.” The lynx flies into open arms and suddenly Ace is holding a cat almost twice his size. That’s wearing pants. “Have you been stealing from Thatch?” Kotatsu, as Ace calls him, swipes at Ace’s face, smushing it to the side. A faint burning smell fills the air but Ace appears unconcerned, so Thatch lets it slide in favor of staring at the cat.

Upon noticing, Ace smiles at Thatch and tells him “This is Kotatsu! The Spades’ Cat. I thought he was with Skulls and Banshee on Moby Four, but no, you like stealing my food, don’t you? Bastard.”

Ace shoves his face into Kotatsu’s fur and is almost consumed by the fur that… that doesn’t really look like fur.

In fact, a lot of things don’t look like they are when dealing with the Spades.

“I’ll take care of him, making sure he doesn’t steal anything else.” Ace’s voice is strangely unmuffled as he walks away, Kotatsu in his arms and trap untouched.

Thatch stares dumbly and feels the sense of oddness washing away.

What?

God, he sounds like a broken record.

But now that the mystery of the stolen meat is gone…

A new mystery arises.

How the hell did that cat hide itself?

Thatch can’t sleep at night, now that he knows the watching feeling is Ace’s giant pet cat, which is too large to fit in any shadow yet still stalks him.

Something is up with the Spades pirates. All of them.

(It’s in the way Ace laughs or fights or exists on deck. His eyes are never the same color, his teeth a tad too sharp in certain lights, and his tattoos, emblazoned on his shoulder and back by Deuce’s skillful hand, have an unworldly shine to them

It’s in the way there is ash left in his footsteps soot where his fingers grip a tad too tight. Looking at him, directly, it’s like there’s a burning sense to eyes, like Thatch is looking directly at a blinding fire.

It’s in the way Deuce never takes off his mask but his entire face reacts a little too late to what he is saying, like he’s a second behind himself, like he’s a fault mask at work. It’s in the way Banshee lives up to her name and Skull’s skulls are always different but look a little too real for the odd horned shapes they have. It’s in the way everyone gives Finamore a wide berth but he’s less than five feet and the way Saber’s hat has five holes on either side, same as Ace. It’s in the way they all grow blurry when the sun goes down but no one mentions it, and the way Ducky Bree’s eyes aren’t ever exactly eyes.

The crew loves Ace, loves the Spades, for they are brothers and they won’t ever not love them, but they shy off, sometimes, when the dark is a bit too dark for anything normal.)

Thatch is going to find out what, because while the rest of the crew may chalk it up to Grand Line madness (a crew of misfits, the newspapers said) Thatch, and the other commanders, and some of the old hands of the crew who were around in Roger’s reign, know better.

What are you, Ace, really? What’s going on here?

He starts talking to the other Spades more often, trying to find out what’s going on, only to be met with laughter.

(Deuce’s mask shifts when he laughs, as if it’s not used to making that expression. He turns his head to fix it and Thatch swears his face slides forward just a bit, like it’s not even his. Its dark, under there, and it's gone for a second, but Thatch can’t stop staring.

He doesn’t talk to Deuce for a while after that.)

“Thatch,” Mihar says, tipping his hat up. “Be careful, won’t you? There are things you do not want to learn.”

Thatch doesn’t heed the warnings and backs off from Mihar too. But the rest of the Spades? Thatch is going insane.

He can’t explain it, he really can’t, he tries to tell Marco and Izo and everyone but he can’t explain anything beyond “It’s off.” His throat locks up when he tries to speak about Deuce’s face or Finamore’s presence or the way Banshee walks through counters in the kitchen and he thinks he’s going insane.

Kotatsu waits outside his door in the morning, and Thatch see’s agonized faces in his fur.

(Save us, they seem to scream voicelessly in inky black non fur (wasn’t Kotatsu brown?) Save us from this -)

He shuts the door before they can finish, and doesn’t come out till Ace starts making noises at Kotatsu to move.

He keeps quiet about it to others aft that, but now Ace seems to have caught on. He smiles at Thatch, baring sharp teeth and pricking him with too sharp fingers. When they slump together at drunken parties Thatch feels the point of something poking into his cheek.

Ace is Thatch’s beloved little brother but he can be a little shit sometimes. Especially when he takes his giant cat around (which Marco avoids like hell and is the source of Thatch’s amusement if not for the fact that Kotatsu keeps stalking him.) and rides the thing, leaving sharp gouges (in the Adam Wood deck) everywhere he goes like a king on a carriage.

(Thatch is sure the beast grown and shrunk twenty different time since it showed up. He doesn’t know how big it is, truly, only that Ace can ride it and carry it.)

He’s no closer to figuring it out than when he started, just more horrified.

As always, Pops has the answer, if in an unconventional way this time.

The sky is dark as the Moby battles in the midst of a hurricane. Some upstart pirate, strangely strong, had taken to attacking the ship.

Pops was impressed at his tenacity at first, then caught him throwing crewmates who objected over board. Then that impressment quickly turned to anger.

Now, in the middle of the storm, Pops was taking no chances to prolong the battle especially with the predictableness of a Grand Line’s storm.

Conqueror’s Haki cut through the air like an executioner’s sword, dropping everyone on the opposing ship dead. Thatch didn’t particularly care what happened to them.

But, for a second, Thatch’s eyes were opened.

(The Veil was gone, raging at a King’s force in which it could not fight.)

There was Ace, fire and volcanic ash in the rain, horned and glowing and made up skin just barely holding together some force. His eyes shone as did his tattoos, red in the light but shifting to blue as he watched. The necklace around his neck was floating wrapping around him with soft power as Ace raged with a sharp tooth grin across the deck.

Next to him, Deuce stood, if that was the word, tall, limbs bent and strange and his face…

Deuce didn’t have a face. Only a smile made of knives.

Hot breath went down Thatch’s neck.

Kotatsu, Thatch knew without seeing, K’oltqevo.

(The name comes in whispers)

He doesn’t look back. Ever.

(The Veil hides what should not be seen and not a soul knows why.

But, occasionally, it is so the world doesn’t fall for what it doesn’t know.)

Lightning strikes and Ace is ‘human’ again but Thatch knows what he saw.

He can’t come up with an explanation. He can’t. Thatch tries summoning stuff in the basement only to have Kotatsu land on him, maps out conspiracies, places where the Spades might have turned into this, this whatever it is.

Kotatsu laughs at him in that cat way of his, and Thatch is suddenly very afraid of how often Ace insults the lynx looking thing to his face.

(Little bastard, Ace affectionately says, coaxing Kotatsu to leap at Marco, who is more skittish now because he too saw the truth in that storm, Come on, get em.)

Thatch has gone insane.

Whitebeard laughs when Thatch tells him his theories.

“You’re brother,” Whitebeard says, “Is a true son of the sea. Tell me, what sea does your newest brother hail from?”

“The East- Oh.” Thatch remembers now.

His father, the one he was born to, had toured the world with him, but never went to the East.

“Son,” He had said, “The devil lives in that Sea.”

Guess it was literal.

(The whispers now, of Garp and Roger and Ace and Dragon, seem a bit more literal now, a bit more terrifying. Monsters, they were called, demons.

But who could have guessed it went beyond mere power?)

“Could’ve explained that from the start.” Thatch grumbles, though he knows no more now other than that the East Blue is a demon sea.

Whitebeard has a twinkle in his eye, and thinking back to the battle he had with Ace, Thatch wonders if he knew it from the start.

(After all, wouldn’t Whitebeard know better than anyone? Demons attacking you in the night (Ace, tenacious bastard, had attacked at all times) would alert anyone to the truth.)

“Where’s the fun in that?” Whitebeard rumbles. “Treat him kindly. This is his home.”

Thatch squawks. “Of course! He’s my brother!” Pops knows that, he knows, he’s just teasing.

He waves goodnight to his father and avoids Kotatsu’s giant tail in the hallway.

Brothers, we are brothers.

Ace smiles, the world darkens, and Thatch wonders what else he can’t see in the dark.

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thetypedwriter · 4 years

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The Ruin of Kings Book Review

The Ruin of Kings Book Review by Jenn Lyons

Boy, oh, boy, was this a wild ride.

Those of you who have been following me for a while know that I occasionally delve into adult fiction here and there. I mainly stick to my vegetarian course of YA novels, but every once in a while I can’t help but pick up a slice of bacon, or in this case, an adult fiction book.

Or, even more specifically, I suppose it would be more accurate to say that it’s adult fantasy instead of fiction. High fantasy at that, which is characterized by a whole new world with fantastical elements and not just a novel in the known primary world with fantasy elements.

With that literary lesson out of the way, let me get started.

The Ruin of Kings by Jenn Lyons came recommended by one of my favorite book bloggers, Paperfury. She counted this as one of her most recent book obsessions she couldn’t stop thinking about and in general I trust her judgement (although she was way way off on The Queen of Nothing, yikes).

This massive installment is definitely not the short and sweet page length I’m used to with YA, and neither does it have the comforting and large font that makes me feel like an accomplished reader after just an hour of skimming.

No, this installment is large and beefy and could probably give someone a concussion if you threw it at them, so just keep that in mind.

The whole fantasy revolves around a boy named Khirin. Khirin is your typical fantasy hero, equipped with the luscious blonde hair and the sparkling blue eyes and most importantly, the wickedly sharp tongue reminiscent of a male character from the Cassandra Clare universe.

He’s sharp, he’s witty, he’s charming, and he also has terrible, terrible luck.

Or does he?

When you first meet Khirin he is being sold as a slave to the highest bidder. He’s cold, he’s injured, he’s starving, and he’s broken. You, as a reader at this point, are completely and irrevocably confused.

You’re thinking: Who is this boy? What is happening to him? Why are people betting so much money for him? What’s with this necklace around his neck? Where did he come from? Where are we? What world is this? Where is he going? What the hell is going on???

To say that Lyons starts out strong would be underhanded hyperbole. You are forcibly drop-kicked into the fantasy world of Qurr and its many raging empires and states, and putting them all together is frankly daunting and largely impossible until a good chunk of the book is devoured.

Frankly, I still have trouble figuring out all the locations and gods and god-kings and factions and lore and people and how they’re all related, Game of Thrones style. But that’s part of the fun.

One of my biggest complaints with YA is that the reader is generally treated like they’re pretty stupid.

Often a YA author feels the need to explain every single iteration and modicum of interaction between their characters or spend too much time describing things, and it leaves very little for interpretation or inference on the side of the reader. Lyons is almost the complete opposite, which is as refreshing as it is frustrating.

As you are introduced to Khirin and this gargantuan universe that Lyons has created, you will feel stupid. To be fair, I enjoyed it most of the time. I relished the challenge of learning to differentiate all the different families of the Court of Gems, of distinguishing the Goddess Thaena from the Goddess Tya.

I liked when I was finally able to smugly look at the map at the beginning and recognize all of the city states like Doltar or Kirpis or Manol. I liked when I understood the different races like the Thriss or the vané and the implications of what that meant.

If that was a whole load of word vomit for you, that’s okay.

Again, it’s part of the fun.

What I do want you to get out of this, however, is the knowledge that Lyons has created an expansive universe with multiple creatures, including dragons and witches, rivaling royal families, gods reminiscent of the Greek Gods and their interference with human affairs, a rivaling world split with so many seams that you’re not even sure who to root for, an emperor, magical jewelry, demons and even a dose of piracy and musical competition.

This book honestly has a little of everything — which, to be fair, it should, considering how damn long it takes to get through it’s never-ending pages.

To make this as simplified as possible, the plot goes like this:

Khirin is sold into slavery and finds himself in the hands of a group called the Black Brotherhood. Over time, Khirin learns about this group and their intentions, learns more about himself and the Stone of Shackles (the necklace he wears around his neck), divulges his past and how he got sold into slavery in the first place-his upbringing, his musical talent, his stay at the Blue Palace, his eventual betrayal at the hands of someone he loves.

You learn over the course of each chapter what brought Khirin to his current fate and more of what he is trying to do now,: which is to return home and save the world from the likes of the two main antagonists (although not all of them by any means), Gadrith and Darzin.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that is the most bare- bones summary I have ever written. But honestly, this book is about a hero named Khirin and his adventure to rid the world of evil as he learns about himself and his past.

Like many, many, other books before it, this book explores what it means to be a hero, what it means to be a god, what it means to be involved with the fight of good vs. evil. This book is not special in that sense regarding these themes.

However, there are some really cool aspects of this novel that I thoroughly enjoyed that I’ll relay now that the summary (as condensed as it is, sorry) is out of the way.

The two things I enjoyed most about this book were the writing itself and the POV. Most high fantasy novels that I’ve attempted to read have this ridiculous notion that every character must speak in some dead medieval language rife with historical inaccuracies and banal, clipped speech. Lyons does nothing of the sort.

Her characters are creative and crass and downright funny. The dialogue is immersive and natural and oftentimes, other than the backdrop of a dragon or lizard-people, it felt like two modern-day people were having a conversation, which I greatly appreciated.

Lyons is also a very big fan of building up her writing and then smacking you down at the pinnacle. For example:

“Before us lay the Mother of Trees.

I didn’t understand what I was seeing. I couldn’t comprehend. It just seemed like a humongous wall at first, one that had been built up with palaces and verandas, graceful pavilions, and stained-glass windows glittering like jewels. Only when I looked up could I perceive the sweep of branches, the distance velvet of green leaves. This was a tree to hold up the whole world, the sort of place where Galava must live, if any place were consecrated to her. It seemed ageless and immortal, a tree that had always and would always exist.

Naturally, we were setting it on fire.”

I personally found this style of writing hilarious. Lyons often built up the tension, beauty, or conflict, and then would deliver these one-liners that would leave me gasping with laughter. This creative juxtaposition was super enjoyable and one that made the book a big success for me.

Secondly, while this book is told almost entirely (keyword almost -there are some outlier chapters) from Khirin’s perspective, it technically oscillates between present Khirin and past Khirin.

The whole book switches from one timeline to another every other chapter, with the chapter starting with Khirin being sold into slavery being the “present” and told from Khirin’s first-person POV and then switching the next chapter to his “past” and being told from Khirin’s third-person POV.

I loved this. I thought this was so creative, and up to this point, I have never seen this done in another book. The subtle shift from first to third person every chapter, but still from the perspective of the same character, was so interesting and complex.

I loved that we were simultaneously getting current-day Khirin, but also Khirin from two years ago telling us the events that led up to the present. It was imaginative and intriguing, and I loved trying to fill in the holes before the book presented me with it (which even then was difficult).

In addition, throughout the whole book are also footnotes from another crucial character that offer information, clarification, and also humor. While I’ve primarily read footnotes in academic papers to cite sources or offer commentary, these footnotes were just as fictional as the rest of the story, but offered insight outside of Khirin that was often dripping in sarcasm, irony, or humor.

I thought it was another really creative way for Lyons to get across information without boring everyone half to death or releasing a 100- page guidebook to help you along.

Bottom line, people,: This book isn’t for everyone. High fantasy in general is not for everyone. That’s okay. It’s not usually my taste either, at least not the adult fictional kind, but something about this book really intrigued me.

Moreso than the actual plot, which is confusing, I enjoyed the writing, the suspense, and the act of playing detective. It’s been so long since I’ve read a book that’s made me think this hard, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. That being said, the same praise is a double-edged sword.

If you don’t want to have to think and draw out charts and make graphs on Excel, then perhaps this is not the book for you.

If you don’t like high fantasy or made-up worlds, or very interconnected family dynamics, then this is not the book for you. This book also contains elements that can be triggering to some, like rape, drugs, character death, violence, imprisonment, slavery, etc.

When I say this book has everything, I mean it has everything. And that can be good or bad depending on the person. For me, I liked it. However, I did get frustrated at certain points at the lack of clarification more than once, just for full disclosure.

Recommendation: If you’ve been bereft ever since the Game of Thrones disaster-of-a-finale, then you are not alone. The Ruin of Kings has everything you’ve ever wanted in a high fantasy book: action, kings, queens, palaces, war, dragons, magic and so much more.

This book was creative and funny and complex, and if you’re willing to sink your teeth and time into a universe that demands attention then you’ll find yourself rewarded with a brand-new world to fall in love with and characters that you can’t seem to forget.

Score: 8/10

#the ruin of kings #jenn lyons #popular fiction #books #book blog #book review #fiction #Book Recommendations #booknerd #writing #fantasy #high fantasy

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nathalie-sancoeur-assistant · 4 years

Text

Miracle Queen

At long last, my late Miracle Queen analysis is here....I apologize for the wait, this would have been out yesterday but unfortunately I realized I had places to be.

As usual, spoilers are below

Marinette and Luka

DId anyone else take Marinette asking Luka about that “perfect tune” as a different take on asking someone out? Because she asked about it, but then Luka didn’t play it because she was still thinking about Adrien. Then at the end of the episode, he ass “Are you sure you want to hear it” after she was done thinking about what Master Fu said about life not always giving you what you want or expect but it not necessarily being a bad thing.

Low-key I interpreted the end of Miracle Queen being the start of a Lukanette relationship.

And he pulled a Chat Noir here.

“No!” for once when Adrien doesn’t want someone’s advances they actually stop. Kagami respect.

“I mean, yes!” This boy is so confused... I mean, clearly he likes Kagami. He could probably see himself being in a sucessful relationship with her but he’s so confused by his feelings for Ladybug, these surfacing feelings for Kagami and his repressed feelings for Marinette...poor kid.

“Your indecision is hurtful, Adrien” I like that she’s not pushing him, but letting him know that he needs to gather himself soon.

---

“For a moment there, I thought you only had to wear glasses to get a miraculous”

Hawkmoth and Mayura: Well....

“Dont know this one, he’s cute, but he gets his clothes from a dumpstser” Luka X Chloe has been canonically shot down.

Okay so...now Hawkmoth knows the identies of ALL the miraculous wearers outside of Ladybug and Chat Noir...what now? I mean, these all have to be people Ladybug knows and trusts right?- Hawkmoth now knows all their identities, so, he can find out what they have in common.

They all go to the same school. If he found that out, he could narrow it down to have Ladybug be going to their school as well.

Then, he could find out WHO they all have in common. Most of them are class mates, so it’s likely someone in THEIR class, but what about Kagami and Luka? The classmates all have relationships with their fellow classmates in common, but Kagami and Luka? Who do they have in common with the class?

Marinette and Adrien. If it weren’t for Kagami, Juleka. So this is actually kinda dangerous for Marinette if Gabriel and Nathalie followed that line of thinking.

---

Oh my sweet stars...

She’s going down

He’s yelling timber

No but like she was legit just falling down and he just

I don’t know I just get the feeling this scared him.She completely rag-dolled like on some of those video games, and his instinct wasn’t to just catch her either, no, it was to just completely wrap her up in his arms like a burrito.

Then he’s asking her forgiveness, like...he knows he’s in the wrong letting her use it even if she is willing to help him or not. But he can’t do it without her.

“Don’t blame yourself. From the very first day, I knew that I’d do anything for you.”

So basically what happened was, she was quite fond of Gabriel and loved his family before all of this. But as soon as he told her he was going supervillain, she got smacked in the face with something more because she got to see how much he was willing to do to keep his family intact.

And he pulls her closer

And then just absolutely melts into her hand

And I am here for it.

I love them and they love each other.

She’s so pretty. Now, that aside- she brought back Hawkmoth’s sentimonster. Is it a new one or the same one? It certainly looks the same...but what emotion has it been created from, exactly? Does that matter when reviving a sentimonster, assuming it’s supposed to be the same one? Or is it completely different aside from appearance? Her eyes are pretty in these shots.

I am in no way attracted to Gabriel but when we get shots like this I can kinda understand why Nathalie would be.

---

This positive reinforcement...absolutely wonderful. She already had a breakdown and was on the verge of another. Chat kept that from happening and did his job as her kitty to keep her grounded and focused. They’re starting to see each other in different lights, her opening up to him so much emotionally like that proves that no matter what they’ll always have an unbreakable bond. They’re literally each other’s pillar of support.

“Littlebug” I love it. Imagine if that’s what he calls his future daughter assuming they get together in the future? Adorable.

“No, its to dangerous! To many powers at the same time”- Master Fu has obviously been teaching Chat Noir too. He’s been getting all the info Ladybug has it seems, just from that line. I like that detail.

Sometimes I like to imagine Gabriel or Nathalie in place of Hawkmoth and Mayura and this started cracking me up because it reminded me of Simon Says. Flutter flutter. Flap flap.

Who knew snakes liked cheese?

Cutie. And I like how the second time Adrien got the snake miraculous, he was actually able to wield it as necessary because he wasn’t trying to impress Ladybug,

Okay so, I like how in this shot they didn’t have him breathing or talking and all the noise seemed to kinda stop. It’s realistic and I like that attention to detail.

Gabriel, honey...ily but you’re dumb. Ladybug is right there, her purifying that akuma before it even reaches it’s target was predictable.

Also when Chloe opened up there, and Ladybug’s face as she realized exactly what all of this was about- I think it hurt both of them. But Ladybug’s already explained herself. Chloe should have known that if she wanted her miraculous back from Ladybug it wasn’t going to be easy. She already told her so...yeah I understand though. She’s just hurt and let it get the best of her. Girl needs to get her emotions in check.

Sometimes you an really Tell Gabriel lives in the present without thinking much about the consequences of certain things. He looks so freaking happy about Chloe being so adamantly against Ladybug now and wearing all the miraculous, but how is she going to know what to say to transform before Ladybug gets the miraculous away from her? I understand the excitement of a new ally but “I don’t even need to do anything” Idk if you really want her to be able to use all the miraculous and potentially lose her mind as implied from Kwami Buster you might want to distract Ladybug and Chat so she can figure out the right transformation words.

“Checkmate, Ladybug!” I have little to say except I love it when villains say “checkmate” during battle. 10/10 dialogue.

He evil laughs so much in this sequence. I wonder if he’s practiced it? Has Nathalie ever walked in on him practicing his evil laugh in the mirror? and this...

Don’t say checkmate until the opponent has no more pawns to move, And the reactiosn the kwamis have? How many masters have they grown to love and admire that they lost just like that? Also I recall someone saying that this thing has a plot hole in it, but I think that Master Fu really was the true guardian of this particular box just from the backstory he has, he was given the miraculous box and grimoir by another master to protect. So he was in a way established as guardian of that box and so I see no reason why he shouldn’t be able to hand ownership over to anyone of his choice.

“Hawkmoth! Tell them to give me my box back!” Did anyone else find that hilarious? Like a spoiled child running to a father who has the backbone of a chocolate eclair.

Except in this case he has the backbone of like...a steel rod.

And then he just goes to scoop up Mayura.

“How disappointing...”

I like Mayura’s face here too. “Oh, he’s picking me up? Alright, okay I guess so, that’s fine.”

I literally slow down the playback scenes to watch these scenes go slower. It looks like their heads are touching.

That’s a whole mood. Me too.

“Im going to New York with Mommy!” Chloe you’re a comedian.

Wow, she really looks like she’s hurting.

“Oh my Nathalie...”

There’s not even a comma, he called her his.

“There are no words to express how sorry I am”

“No, not for nothing” she still remains the optimistic one. She’s comforting him when she’s the one in need. He obviously thinks she should be upset with him but she just continues telling him its okay. All she cares about is making sure he’s happy and doesn’t want him to blame himself for her choices. Gabriel get this woman a ring.

---

“Goodbye....Master”

I feel so bad for these kwamis. How long does it take before they break after watching everyone they love eventually just die? Have any of them ever emotionally distanced themselves from mortals to avoid the heartbreak when they inevitably lose them? And without Wayzz how long does Master Fu have left being almost 200 years old?

Chloe is really putting on her clown wig in this episode. Mommy is staying in Paris so she can’t go to New York now. Karma, am I right?

“Even if like doesn’t give us the gifts we were hoping for, the true gift is life itself”....And that’s why I think Lukanette is basically canon by the end of the episode. Master Fu’s words play out in her head as she sits next to Luka and she’s not stuttering around Adrien. Her ice cream changes, and I just can’t help but feel like the whole melody thing was symbolic of her accepting Luka’s love and deciding to move on.

They can finally be together...

“Thank you young lady, I will never forget you” if only he knew...

And the way it ended, the endcard...it was all just very sweet and fitting. I do hope Marinette and Adrien will be together by the time Miraculous ends (it’s obviously endgame) but them developing a strong, loving friendship that isn’t plagued with stuttering and stalking is going to be crucial for them to really have a chance at making it. Adrien and Kagami and Luka and Marinette do make sense as couples as we get to know Kagami and Luka more. Still though, I do hope that Adrien and Marinette find each other in the end. There’s to much symbolism pointing to them being (as much as I hate the term) soul mates for them not to.

And for the record, same with Gabenath imo. Gabriel IS losing his certainties, after all...

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kylermalloy · 4 years

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So, I'm curious, what is your favourite TO episode? If you are able to make a choice ;)

Oh, oh! This is one ‘favorites’ question I have no problem answering.

My favorite episode is and has always been the season 1 finale, “From a Cradle to a Grave.” Honestly, I think this is where the show peaked in its writing. I was on the edge of my seat the entire episode, just loving the excitement, the tension, the themes, and all the narrative threads coming together in one culminating, sweeping episode.

This episode is everything I love about the show. Murder, mayhem, and family :) But seriously! (Omg am I going to have to do a blow-by-blow of the episode? I think I might.)

In that case, the rest goes under a cut. (Spoilers for TO ahead!)

The episode begins with Hayley giving birth, induced by the witches who betrayed Klaus. It’s in the church, that unholy horror of a murder museum.

Intercut with the rose-tinted flashback of pregnant Hayley and Klaus feeling their baby kick, Hayley gives birth as her voiceover promises a safe home and family to “Zoe…or Caitlyn, or Angela.”

*irony* but it hurts.

Klaus and Hayley are, for once, united in the fight for their child. They’ve been at each others’ throats all season, and in the past neither have had trouble getting their way. But in this crucial hour neither the Original hybrid or the uncontrollable mama wolf can do anything.

Can I say: I love love LOVE that look Klaus and Hayley share after the baby is born. Hayley asks to hold her, and they share this…look. Listen, I’m not much of a klayley shipper, but their partnership is golden. They’ve reached a tentative agreement at this point that they’re both going to play a role in raising the baby they created. The trust and pride and satisfaction between them in this moment, despite the horrid circumstances, melts me.

And then Hayley dies.

Klaus screaming NOOOOOOO is all of us in this moment.

Oh! And I almost forgot—Klaus being pinned to the wall in that Christlike pose. That was NOT an accident. It helps tie in to the larger theme they’re going for, that Elijah expounds for us later. He’s not a sinless, perfect Christ figure—in fact, he’s the opposite. He’s the monster under the bed, the devil in the night. One might even go so far as to say he’s the symbol for everyone to pin their problems to. The ultimate scapegoat. Not to say he didn’t exert some effort of his own to get there—this is the price he has to pay for his sins. Crucified, figuratively, forced to watch helpless as his newborn daughter is taken from him and her mother slaughtered.

Then Elijah bursts in. (Bless Daniel Gillies’s funky lil run, it gives me joy in the bleakest of times)

And this, oh goodness, this quiet grief they share over Hayley. Klaus has held her body since he woke up, I’m guessing, this woman who carried his child, chafed against every controlling measure he tried to impose on her, whom he holds some degree of respect and fondness for.

And Elijah, dear Elijah. He pinned all his hopes (hee) to this woman, this werewolf Madonna and her child. He gave her more space in his heart than he’d given anyone, including women who’d haunted him for centuries. And now she’s dead, just like anyone who’s had the misfortune of sparking his affections.

Klaus healing Elijah—HEY REMEMBER EARLY IN THE SEASON WHEN KLAUS BIT ELIJAH AND LEFT HIM TO SUFFER?! Now, Klaus offers his blood without compunction, without hesitation. This time it’s Elijah who hesistates. You have to wonder, is he deliberating which nightmare he would prefer—the torture of wolf venom, or the torture of Hayley’s death and her baby’s disappearance?

“You were bested? My invincible brother?”

Klaus doesn’t rise to the bait like he normally would. He barely reacts. He’s broken. He wanted too much—he played king and gained the whole world, but lost his soul. And then his kingdom.

You see why I love this episode?

We move to the graveyard, where we see not only Klaus and Elijah trapped in a maze, but the witches preparing for a sacrifice. Let’s not gloss over their costume change, either—in the church, for the birth, they were all clad in black. But here, as they prepare for their worst atrocity yet, infanticide, they wear pure white, like they’re going to a christening or something. *irony*

Then comes *the speech* from Elijah, the one that mirrors the pilot so perfectly (I know them both by heart, thank you very much.) In the pilot, Elijah’s speech is rousing, patient, and encouraging. Here, he has lost his patience. Here, he tells us what we’ve been seeing throughout the entire season.

“This is the world you created, Niklaus. All your scheming, the enemies you have made every day do your miserable life—what results did you expect? That your child would be born into a happy life? That the mother would be alive, to know her daughter? That we could live and thrive as some sort of family?”

“That was your fantasy, brother, not mine—”

“No, brother! This was our hope. This was our family’s hope. And now she is gone.” (And then we realize that he’s not just mourning the baby, that family he imagined—he mourns Hayley.) “Do you understand? I let this person in. I let her in. I don’t let people in.”

And Klaus’s reaction! This Klaus, with compassion he deserves only for his closest family—this is the Klaus that melts me. This is the scene that slaps. This is how we tie a bow on a season—nay, a millennium—of brotherly tension. They’re not healed; nothing could truly heal the damage they’ve done to each other (or the damage others have wrought on them) but it’s a start.

And Hayley wakes.

Before I go on, let me mention Marcel. Ally, enemy, friend, surrogate son to Klaus (and that could be all in one episode!) He’s destined for death by hybrid venom, having led his vampires into a massacre. All his attempts to rally his people have failed. He’s lost the city, and his vampires have been slaughtered by Guerrera werewolves. He has almost nothing left.

He goes out, armed to forcibly obtain Klaus’s blood and heal his friends—but he upon finding Klaus he makes very on-brand choice. He saves the baby.

He does what the combined efforts of Klaus, Hayley, and Elijah can’t. He wins Klaus’s trust back by saving his newborn daughter. He protects the innocent instead of contributing to the feud. He murders the girl he once tried to save from the Harvest. And he gets to meet his baby sister.

It’s strategy and heart all in one. It’s very Marcel.

He reconciles with Klaus, and Klaus heals him. They are healed—to some degree.

Then Klaus gets to hold his child for the first time, and we all die.

This is what the season has been building up to. Yes, it’s been building to Klaus being toppled off his throne, yes it’s been building to the splintering of his ego, but THIS is what we’ve been promised since the beginning—before the beginning of the show, even. The Original hybrid, brought to his knees by this child. His child. Someone he loves without reservation. Someone who doesn’t fear him. Someone innocent, who carries none of the burdens of their family. Someone who inspires hope in the hopeless. Someone he would kill for, or die for. (he does both)

And I can’t, I just can’t with them. I love the way JoMo handles the baby in this episode—very gingerly, a little awkwardly. It’s probably been a long time since Klaus has handled a baby (one that he hasn’t eaten D: ) and it’s just. so. endearing.

Meanwhile, Davina has…brought Mikael the destroyer back to life? I remember reading somewhere that Josh was supposed to die in this episode, and while I wouldn’t dare wish to deprive Josh of the happiness (and subsequent heartbreak) awaiting him in s2 and beyond, I think Davina’s motivations would’ve made more sense here if she were seeking to avenge her friend’s death. But I digress. Davina resurrects Mikael. Oh dear.

I haven’t mentioned Genevieve yet! She is one of my favorite antagonists. At first, she seemed to come out of nowhere, and I suspect she might have stepped into the narrative hole that was originally filled by Sophie Deveraux, but regardless I like her conflict. A witch cheated out of life (by an Original, no less!) and coerced to murder by her coven, living and dead. An apologetic killer. Yikes.

Klaus and Elijah then discuss how to protect the baby (and I swear in the opening shot it looks like they’re holding hands—but alas, it’s just a trick of the camera angle.) and Hayley helps them determine that they need to send her away. And let me say, Phoebe Tonkin impressed me more with her acting in seasons 2-3, but she hurts me here too. Ouch.

We get a few expository scenes—Francesca spins the werewolf attack into a gang war (she’s not wrong), Marcel makes a deal, Oliver is still an arrogant brat, and Davina plans to keep Mikael as her secret weapon (you poor child).

Then we get the most painful scenes in the episode, because even though we know this tragedy is a lie, it’s still a loss. The baby did not die, but their pain over losing her is real. Elijah says as much: “grief, after all, is grief.”

Klaus and Cami share a scene, and this is one of my favorites of them. Klaus admits that he finds her…beautiful. And for that reason, she should stay away from him. Whether you read this as romantic or not, it’s still so good. This is a woman Klaus pinpointed as being useful, intelligent, insightful, and strong enough to handle his psyche. They began with a rather twisted relationship (let’s save that essay on autonomy for another day, shall we?) but by the end of the season they’ve shared some experiences and gained more sympathy and respect for each other. And Klaus, in his moment of clarity and grief, recognizes that he is fundamentally not what she needs. (Or we could say this is all part of the lie. We’ll never know.)

Also, let me give a shoutout to the music in this episode! The two songs that play toward the end, Open Hands and Shallows are stellar. Speaking of the end! Let’s get into the biggest surprise this episode has for us.

“In what world will she be safe without her father? Who can protect her better than we?”

“There is one person.”

Rebekah. The thousand-year-old beauty queen I honestly thought we’d never see again after her exit in episode 16. The Original sister, the girl who loved too easily, who broke her brother’s heart and incurred his wrath. Who left to live her own life, who only could leave after her favorite brother set her free. Who always wanted what she couldn’t have, a family of her own.

And here she is, smiling at Klaus even though last time they screamed themselves hoarse in a graveyard and he put an enchanted stake through her chest, inches from her heart. She loves and hates him in equal measure, but she has nothing but love for this newborn baby. It’s a peace offering and the ultimate gesture of faith. Klaus could not trust anyone else in the world with his daughter, but he will hand her over to his beloved sister. It is the PERFECT way to end the season, especially with their parting words. Rebekah wants to know the baby’s name.

“Hope. Her name is Hope.”

They’ve been planning this gimmick from day ONE, I’m telling you. Ever since the pilot, when Elijah asks, “who’s more pathetic—the man who sees hope to make his family whole again? Or the coward who only sees the world through his own fear?” And I don’t care how cliche and gimmicky it is—if I did, I wouldn’t be watching this CW show. It’s perfect. This is what the baby means. She is the hope for this broken, broken family. She’s no savior—she doesn’t have to do anything but exist. But she reminds these siblings who, after a thousand years of bloodshed and fighting, are “the definition of cursed—always and forever,” that they can be better. They don’t have to remain the shells of who they were. They can pick up the pieces and begin a new chapter.

And that’s what this episode does for me, folks. It’s honestly too much to handle. I cannot watch this episode like a normal person—I writhe and scream and laugh maniacally and recite the lines. It’s a trip.

This episode concludes the season so strongly. It’s actually a major part of why I rank season 1 as my favorite! I did an official ranking of all 5 TO seasons a while back, which was a lot of fun.

#the originals #original groupies #asks #aeruthien #thanks for sending this in!#mymeta #to 1x22 #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #hayley marshall #hope mikaelson #marcel gerard #this got long but i'm not even sorry #i cannot express deeply enough my love for this episode #i was gonna find gifs of all the scenes but lbr i don't have that kind of patience #just enjoy my words #kylerrambles

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plus-size-reader · 5 years

Text

The Deal

King Alfred x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1896 words

Warnings:none

Summary: Reader is the daughter of Ragnar. She goes to Wessex with Lagartha, Ubbe, Bjorn, and Torvi. Heahmund makes a deal with the the King to give them the lands they so desire...

———————————————————————————————————

When you first arrived at Wessex, you were looked upon as a savage and a murderer.

As far as any of the Christians were concerned, you were nothing more than an animal. Because of that idea, you were half tempted to prove them right, though you knew it wouldn't do any good.

If you stood any chance at being accepted in this place, you had to be on your best behavior.

It was bad enough that you were a viking in England...the last thing any of you needed was a murderous viking.

They already thought badly of you, so you needed to prove them wrong. It was imperative that you found a way to make this treaty work, or your entire family would be in danger.

You were the only living daughter of Ragnar Lothbrok, and that meant nothing here. However, where you'd come from, you were untouchable. You were looked upon as a princess and that attitude followed you everywhere you went.

You held your head high as you strolled from the cage you'd been wheeled in on into the large building that waited for you. It was a palace, sure, but meant nothing to you. No amount of gold or shining things could change your mind about this place...

It was stuffy and tense.

You hated every single thing about it.

Except for one crucial detail...

The young King Alfred.

He was an interesting character, who his people didn't take seriously. They looked at him as a child, and as you looked at him, you weren't surprised.

The man was by no means imposing, and you had no idea how he'd come into the throne in the first place. Not to mention that he was tiny, how was he meant to lead them?

"This is your King?" you asked, addressing Heahmund instead of the boy King. You weren't even going to speaking to him, for the understanding that he didn't speak your tongue.

The man only nodded, waiting for you to ask further questions, though no questions came.

You knew what it meant to be in the presence of a King, but as far as you were concerned, this small boy was nothing more than a joke.

Still, there was something about him that intrigued you. Something about him that was odd, and different from anything else you'd ever experienced. He was trained, like a wolf kept on a leash.

It was strange.

"Does he understand me?" you wondered, clarifying before you said something that was going to get you into trouble.

The time he shook his head. It was clear to you then that you could say whatever you pleased, as long as you did so in your native tongue.

And that made you happy. You had a million things on your mind that you had to get out about the strange man across from you. "He’s too frail and weak, I could snap him in half” you teased, earning a laugh from Bjorn behind you.

It was funny and he couldn’t blame you. In truth, he’d thought the same thing as soon as he saw the small man.

He was puny at best, but that didn’t change the fact that he currently held your fate in the palm of his hands.

Something was going to have to be done in order to secure your place here.

“That may be true, but he is the King” Ubbe spoke up, urging you to hold your tongue. King Alfred may not speak your language, but Heahmund did, and you couldn’t be sure that you could trust him quite yet.

The only people that you knew you could trust were your own. You were the enemy in a hostile land, and you weren’t going to put too much trust in the Christians.

That could only end badly in your experience. King Aelle had proven that quite well when he was alive.

“Not my King” you shot back, shutting your mouth after getting it out of your system. There was nothing you could say or do that would change the fact that you were now in Wessex.

You just had to do as you were told for the time being...as much as you hated it.

You all had been sitting around in the dungeon area for what seemed like hours until Heahmund and the tiny King could come to a decision about what to do with all of you and you had really had enough of it.

There was no reason to keep you all locked up like animals. If you wanted to kill someone, you would have done it when you walked in the door.

However as much as you hated the dungeon, as soon as they let you out, you were in for a surprise that was going to make this whole thing so much worse.

Heahmund had made a deal to get your brother’s the land that they were owed by King Ecbert.

All you had to do was be wed to the King.

It would create a connection between the viking and the people of Wessex, not to mention the possibility of you giving Alfred an heir.

It wasn’t ideal by any means for you but if it would help ensure a bond between your kind and the christians, Heahmund thought that it would be worth it. Besides, it wasn’t right for a woman of your age to be unmarried.

Something had to be done to mend the hole that had been torn between your two groups. As far as you could tell, this was how he was going to make good with them after commiting murder, of all things.

You could hardly believe it when they told you...

“You are just going to marry me off to him, like a thrall?” You barked, hardly believing what they were telling you. You could hardly breathe, and your blood was boiling.

Never in your life had you been so full of rage. Who did they think they were?

You were the only surviving daughter of Ragnar Lothbrok, and that meant something. In the eyes of the Gods, you were special, you weren’t to be traded like cattle to a man who couldn’t even defend his people.

It wasn’t right and if your father could see it, you would hate to see how he would react.

Ubbe had been expecting this, but the vision in his mind had nothing on the way you were really taking it. You were beyond angry with them, in a way that he’d never seen in his life.

“This is just what has to be done to ensure that we receive the lands that we are owed sister, nothing more than that,” he assured, earning a look of disgust and rage from you.

If he hadn’t known better, he would have feared what you would do to him.

You didn’t care about the lands around you. If you had your way, you would have returned to Kattegat with Ivar half way through the journey. If Ubbe was going to go through with this, he wasn’t the leader you wanted.

He wasn’t the King that you wanted to follow.

“I want to go home, take me back to Kattegat” you ordered, your arms folded across your chest like an angry child. It was quite the sight, and Ubbe had to actually stifle the urge to laugh at you.

You had always been so terribly dramatic, a trait that you received from your father, undoubtedly.

“I can’t do that Y/N, you know that” he started, prompting you to turn toward the door without a second thought. If Ubbe couldn’t help you, perhaps Bjorn could.

He had always been the most rational and protective over you, out of all your brothers. There was no way he was going to let something like this stand, especially not if you could convince him in the right way.

“Bjorn, you will never believe the deal that Ubbe has made with the christian king” you started, your mind swimming with the events of the past few minutes.

You couldn’t live here, among these christians another minute, led alone be their queen. You simply couldn’t do it.

Why had Odin forsaken you so? After everything you’d done in his honor throughout your life, he wasn’t going to leave to the wolves now, would he?

That would be the cruelest fate of all.

“I heard” he bellowed, keeping his back turned to you as you entered his room. He had been drinking weak christian wine since he heard of what was to happen, anticipating your visit.

As much as he hated it, there was little he could do to stop the arrangement that had already been made.

You would have to marry eventually, and while the oldest of your father’s son’s had always seen you married to a jarl, it would seem that wasn’t going to be the case anymore.

Instead, you would remain in Wessex on the arm of the boy king, as the queen of his kingdom and the overseer of the community of viking they would set up in westumbria.

Someone had to do it, and this was the sacrifice you would have to make.

“I won’t do it Bjorn! I’ll sooner slit his small throat in his sleep” you barked, not believing that he wasn’t going to do anything to help you. Bjorn was your only hope, and even he had turned his back on you.

That got a rise out of the man. Viking or not, you couldn’t threaten to murder a king around here and get away with it.

“Shut up! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he yelled, turning around finally, his large hand falling over your mouth without a shred of hesitation.

It was one thing to leave you under the protection of the king, but he wasn’t going to leave you here in a cell.

The action shocked you, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

Bjorn was a large man with a large reputation, but he had another thing coming if he thought you weren’t going down without a fight.

“Anything is better than being married to him” you replied, that sassy smirk finding its way to your face. Either you didn’t understand the consiquences, or you didn’t care...either way, Bjorn shuddered to think of how you would react.

He was going to have to do something to get you to cooperate, or the deal would never go through.

“I’ll tell you what, go meet with the King, and if you don’t like him, I’ll take you back to Kattegat” he offered, knowing that he shouldn’t. He was only getting your hopes up for something he couldn’t provide but he had to do something.

He wouldn’t have you getting yourself killed.

You nodded, shocked at his sudden change of heart. Sure, you’d have to sit through a stupid evening all dressed up like a christian woman, listening to the boy king talk but if it would get you home, you’d sit through a hundred evenings.

You were so blinded by your happiness and relief that you didn’t stop to think about what would happen if Bjorn actually tried to take you back to Kattegat with Ivar ruling as king.

It didn’t matter.

All that mattered to you right now was getting tonight over with, so that you could finally go home.

#king alfred #alfred #vikings alfred #vikings #king alfred x ps reader #king alfred x plus size reader #alfred x ps reader #alfred x plus size reader #vikings alfred x ps reader #vikings alfred x plus size reader #vikings x reader #vikings x plus size reader #vikings x ps reader

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katedoesfics · 4 years

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Shadows of Hyrule | Chapter 52

Now that Link and his friends were the talk of the world, he shouldn't have been surprised when he got more attention than he was used to. Still, when he got to school the next morning, he wasn't prepared for the entire school to fall silent, their eyes turned to him. Unfortunately, there was still a few minutes before the first bell, which meant that no one would make their way into the school until then, too content to be staring at the six students that were plastered all over the news.

Link shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried over to his friends, but the staring did not stop.

“This is uncomfortable,” Mipha muttered. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Milk it,” Revali said. He scanned the crowd that had gathered outside the school and winked at a few of the cute girls he spotted. They giggled and turned to whisper to one another. After a moment, a few of the students stepped forward.

“Is it true? Is Ganondorf coming back?”

Another kid elbowed his friend in the ribs. “Of course not, you idiot,” he hissed. “They're a bunch of liars.”

Zelda's brows knit together, but she bit her tongue.

Revali, however, was not about to let himself look foolish. “Idiots,” he spat. “Do you really think I'd waste my time with Link for nothing?”

“Thanks,” Link muttered.

“Prove it, then,” the kid said. “Let's see it. The Triforce.”

“Well, they can't just will it to appear,” Revali said, as if it were obvious.

“How convenient.”

“Don't waste your breath,” Urbosa said. “They're uneducated biggots.”

To their relief, the first bell of the day rang. It took a few moments, but slowly, one by one, the students started to make their way inside the building, mumbling to each other and casting final glances towards the six Champions. They waited until most of the students made their way into the school before following suit. They were, however, stopped in the hallway, by none other than their principal.

“Let's have a talk, shall we?” he said to them.

Without argument, they trudged after him, following him into his office. Though in adequate sized office, with eight people in there, it proved to be slightly cramped. Still, he closed the door behind him and sat himself at his desk. One of the school's counselors sat beside him. He smiled at the six students that stood before him and was the first to speak.

“You should know,” he started, but Revali interrupted him.

“We're not crazy,” he snarled. “And we don't need help from the likes of you.”

The counselor cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap. “I never said you were crazy,” he said, meeting Revali's gaze. “There are people in the world that still believe the legends.”

Daruk narrowed his gaze on the man. “You say that as if it's nonsense.”

“We're not here to make life anymore difficult for you,” their principal said. “But after what happened last night -”

“You're in the eye of the media,” the counselor said. “You're being watched by the entire world. Some of you are minors. There is going to be a lot to handle in the next few weeks.”

“And, you know, saving the world,” Urbosa said. “We gotta do that, too.”

The counselor nodded. “I trust you know what you're doing,” he said. “But I wouldn't be doing my job if I stood idly by.”

“So,” Revali started, “What's your job? You're not exactly a pysch.”

“But if I believe it is in your best interest to -”

“We don't need therapists,” Zelda hissed. “What we need is the world to stop breathing down our necks.”

“That will never happen,” he said. “Your lives will never go back to normal.”

The six of them were quiet as they considered this. It never occurred to them what their futures could be like. They were simply too busy worrying about Ganondorf, and if they were even going to survive the war.

“A price we must bear, then,” Revali said simply.

“I don't think you understand the severity -”

“I don't think you understand,” Zelda said fiercely. “The entire world is in danger, and its our job to save it.”

“If you ask me,” Revali said, “it seems like you doubt us. We're not children. We know we're in way over our heads.”

The counselor smiled. “Perhaps, then, you should take a step back and consider your options.”

“There are no options,” Zelda said. “It all comes down to us, whether you like it or not.”

“That's a daunting task, don't you think?”

They were quiet again, waiting for the counselor to speak further. When he did, he stood.

“You don't have to be alone in this,” he continued. “Don't be afraid to ask for help.”

The principal stood, too. He walked around the students to open the office door. “You can get late passes from the front desk,” he instructed them.

The six Champions said nothing as they left the office, though their anger and frustration was written on their faces. They didn't speak to one another until they were back in the hallway.

“That was a load of bullshit,” Daruk said. “Thank the Goddesses we're out of this shit hole soon.”

“On the plus side,” Urbosa added, “we'll be able to finish this war without worrying about school.”

“I don't think I can stand their stares much longer,” Mipha muttered. “Why couldn't the media get involved after school ended?”

“You're telling me,” Zelda said. She shifted her bag on her shoulder and sighed. “This is going to be a very long day.”

And a very long day it was for Hyrule's Champions. Still, they managed to pull through to the end, all too eager to leave the suffocating walls of the school, only to be stopped by Teba in the parking lot.

“I want to know what's going on,” Teba said.

They stared at him for a moment, then turned their gazes to Link, as if they expected him to explain it all to him.

“Nothing's going on,” Link muttered.

“Cut the bullshit,” Teba barked. He stepped into Link's space, glaring down at him. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fine!” Link shouted. “We're a crime fighting team and we call ourselves Hyrule's Champions. We go around fighting monsters because some fucked up bad guy is about to rise from his pit in hell and take over the world with his evil power. And guess what? I have a magic sword that's gonna stop him. And Mipha and Urbosa and Daruk have magic powers. Revali? He's fucking good with a bow and arrow and he has matrix-like reaction. And there's this old hag is a Sheikah who's probably a thousand years old and she's kind of our leader.”

Teba stared at him long and hard for a moment before a grin split his face. He laughed sharply. “That's a good one. I like it. Do you wear costumes and capes and shit, too?”

Link smirked and shrugged. “I voted for crime fighting bikinis for the ladies, but that got shot down.”

“So, that's the best you've got?” Teba asked. “You're not even trying with the excuses anymore.”

“For the love of the Goddesses,” Urbosa said. She put a hand on her hip and raised her other arm in the air, snapping her fingers. Lightning split the clear, blue sky out of no where, and Teba jumped back in surprise.

“What the fuck was that?”

“My super power,” Urbosa said, rolling her eyes.

Teba blinked at her. “No it's not,” he said after a moment. “You're fucking with me.”

Revali sighed. He leaned over his car, pulling out a plain looking dagger, and plunged it into Link's arm. Link shouted and doubled over in pain, clutching at his arm.

“What the fuck, Revali?!”

Urbosa turned to Revali and slapped him across the head. “Are you fucking serious?”

“The fuck is wrong with you, man?” Teba shouted at him.

“You're such a dick,” Mipha muttered as she hurried to Link's side. She got to her knees and moved her hands over his arm. A light emitted from her palms, enveloping the wound, and within a few moments, Link's arm was healed. Link sneered up at Revali as he got back to his feet.

Teba stared at Link's arm, his mouth gaping open as if he were trying to speak. His mouth opened and closed for a moment before he finally managed to spit out “What the fuck!”

“Obviously Mipha's the healer,” Daruk said with a smirk. “I'm the tank.”

“You... heal... tank...” Teba shook his head. “This is a fucking dream.”

“I wish,” Urbosa muttered.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Teba said, holding up his hands. “So, you fight monsters?”

“Yes,” Link said in a bored tone.

“And some bad guy is trying to take over the world and you need to stop him?”

“Yes,” Zelda said, exasperated.

“But,” he continued, “why you guys?”

“Because they were chosen by destiny,” Paya said. “Zelda is a descendant of the Goddess Hylia and has inherited her power, just as Link is a descendant of Hylia's appointed hero. Over the years, she has gifted others with a power that would be crucial in aiding them in the war against Ganondorf.”

“Ganondorf,” Teba muttered. “The bad guy?”

“Ganondorf holds a piece of the Triforce, which grants him enough power to rise time and time again, no matter how many times he is defeated and sealed away. He is after the other two pieces, which Zelda and Link possess. He will never rest until he claims the full power of the Triforce.”

“So, this has happened before?”

“It is the job of the Sheikah to make sure each hero finds the Master Sword and takes up the duty to defeat Ganondorf. It is our job to keep our history alive and not lost to legend. The moment we lose touch with our past, we will lose all of Hyrule.”

“This is real,” Teba said. “You're not fucking with me.”

“Honestly, Teba,” Urbosa said. “I have better things to do than craft elaborate lies with these idiots.”

Zelda nodded in agreement.

Teba frowned. “Why am I always left out of all the exciting shit?”

“Don't worry,” Revali said. “I was the last to know, too. And it's not as exciting as I expected it to be.”

“Not for nothing,” Teba said, looking around. Students still had their eyes on the Champions as they slowly made their way home for the afternoon. “But ya'll in way over your heads.”

“This isn't news to us,” Daruk muttered.

“What can I do to help?” Teba said.

“Nothing,” Revali hissed. “Get as far away from us as you can. Its for your own good.”

“Yeah, I don't think so,” he said, shaking his head.

Link opened his mouth to argue with Teba, but Revali stepped in instead, his fierce gaze on his friend.

“Do you think this is a game?” he snapped at Teba. “Do you think we want to be doing this?”

Teba hesitated. His brows furrowed as Revali continued angrily.

“Shit, we'll be lucky if we live another day. Our lives are on the line. The lives of every person in the world is in our hands. If we fuck up, that's it. And if by some miracle we win this, nothing is going to be the same. The media has turned us into fucking pariahs. In the end, no one will trust us, even if we come out on top. You get to go on and live your life, marry Suki, whatever the fuck you want to do. We'll always be judged, everywhere we go. We'll be held to expectations we can't live up to. We threw out futures away for this. So everyone else could live. Don't make us regret it.” Revali turned on his heels and got into his car, slamming the door behind him, still fuming. He turned the key in the ignition, then looked up and pointed a finger at Link.

“End this before I end you.”

Link narrowed his eyes on Revali, but said nothing. They watched as he peeled out of the parking lot and disappeared around the corner.

“College seems so meaningless if the world is going to end tomorrow,” Teba muttered.

#legend of zelda #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic #loz #botw #shadows of hyrule #soh52

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fortunatelylori · 5 years

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Why the Jon/D*any romance doesn’t work (Part 5)

Hey, guys! This last part of my “Why the Jon/Dany romance doesn’t work” series was taken down in the great Tumblr purge and I am now reuploading it. I got a few messages from people wanting to read it and I’m really sorry it’s taken this long to get it back up again. But here it is! :)

This is actually the second part of the “More than 2 is a crowd” section of the series but since it got very, very long I split it up.

Welcome to Days of GOT, the soap-opera where your captor turns into your lover only to turn into your aunt:

The “we’re fucked but not in a good way” scene

youtube

As a general rule, I’ve decided not to take into consideration what any of the people involved in this TV show say in interviews or behind the scenes. They very willingly and intentionally mislead the audience and lie to our faces. I don’t hold it against them but I’m not going to spend my time analyzing and commenting on something that may very well be the writers screwing with me.

However, I find it very interesting that Kit Harrington said that he thought this was the scene where Jon and Dany started liking each other. Because this is, by far, the nicest, friendliest conversation they’ve ever had. It’s almost, dare I say it, human-esque.

Here, I’ll even give you some examples:

Jon: No one is less happy about this than I am.

Dany: I know. I respect what you did. Wish you hadn’t done it but I respect it.

Wow! Appreciation and respect … where have you two been for the duration of this plot?

Dany: […] We weren’t extraordinary without them (dragons). We were just like everyone else.

Jon: You’re not like everyone else.

Hello, validation! Nice to see you again, old friend.

See? Even I’ve been generalized into submission. He’s lucky he’s cute. That’s all I got to say.

Dany: I can’t have children.

Jon: Who told you that?

Dany: The witch who murdered my husband.

Jon: Has it occurred to you she might not have been a reliable source of information?

Dany, you lucky girl! You’ve just been struck by the ever elusive Jon Snow joke! Revel in it for it only comes out to play once a season.

So, all of this is very touching … I mean, I say very …. Mildly, in the near vicinity of touching. It would have been even better had this happened earlier and not in their last private conversation but at this point, beggars can’t be choosers.

However, once you strip away this veneer of friendliness, you do find some quite troubling things in this scene.

Firstly, there’s the main issue they are discussing:

Dany: This place was the beginning of the end for my family. […] A dragon is not a slave. They were terrifying, extraordinary. They filled people with wonder and awe and we locked them in here. They wasted away. They grew small and we grew small as well.

The problem with this speech is that it creates a conundrum for both the audience and Jon. Because Jon’s already heard the flip side of this particular coin, directly from his BFF, Jorah:

Missandei: Why did they build it? (the Dragonpit)

Jorah: Dragons don’t understand the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children … Letting them roam free around the city was a problem.

So how does Jon resolve this issue? He doesn’t. He simply listens to Dany, looks around the Dragonpit and keeps his mouth shut.

Are we to understand that Jon Snow simply doesn’t care about children being burned alive because he wants Dany and her dragons to be as terrifying and awe inspiring as possible?

Isn’t it more likely to assume that Jon simply does what he’s always done in conversations with Dany, essentially keep his thoughts to himself and allow her to think whatever she wants? Which can only mean that despite their pleasantries, their dynamic is essentially the same it’s been since the cave scene. Which, by extension, means we’re just going round and round in ever increasingly polite circles.

Great! I got all excited with no rose petal covered way to go.

Then there’s this:

Dany: You were right from the beginning. If I trusted you, everything would be different.

Jon: So what now?

Dany: I can’t forget what I saw North of the wall. And I can’t pretend Cersei won’t take back half the country the moment I march North.

Remember when I said that Jon had no reason to bend the knee because Dany had already promised to help him defeat the Night King?

Tin foil hat: You know nothing, fortunatelylori!

Shut up, you!

Yes, Jon! You heard that right! A near death experience by either zombification or drowning, a dead uncle and a bent knee later and all you have to show for it is a better placement on Dany’s list of priorities. It used to be -100 before but now the goddamn apocalypse is neck and neck with Dany and Cersei’s competition for a piece of furniture. Enjoy!

The “what is fear of assassination anyway when my hormones are out of wack” scene

youtube

I could analyze every line in this scene but I prefer to cut through all the boring travel arrangements that no one paid attention to and cut to the chase:

Jorah: My queen, love of my life, end all be all of my existence, your safety is paramount to me. Please fly to Winterfell and not risk getting blood all over your pretty blond wig.

Jon: Aaa ... I mean it’s your choice, obviously, but ... would you rather fly and be safe or get on a boat and possibly have sex with me?

Dany: Sex with Jon on a boat, definitely.

However, I will say this is a very interesting line:

Jon: It’s your decision, your Grace. But if we’re going to be allies in this war, it’s important for the Northerners to see us as allies.

It sort of feels like Jon is not giving Dany a choice at all. It’s more of a “my way or the highway” type of proposition but again Dany’s too far down the rabbit hole to notice the difference.

The “this better be good, guys! The whole of Westeros is watching” scene

I’d love to link to b0atbang here but Tumblr hates that scene as much as we do. So for your convenience, I have decided to put my considerable artistic talents to good use and I have drawn what I believe is almost an exact representation of it:

Guys, I spent almost 30 seconds in Paint doing this so please show me some love. Tread carefully, Tumblr, for you are treading on my dreams!

We started this section of the series talking about the “more than 2 is a crowd” rule so it seems only fitting that we should end with this: the most crowded sex scene since whatever porno film you watched last night.

There are 6 people involved in this scene and that’s excluding the actual two people that are having sex! Six people, most of them related to one or both Jon and Dany.

We have Jon’s mother but also Dany’s sister in law, Jon’s uncle but also adoptive father, Jon’s real father but also Dany’s brother, Jon’s brother who is actually his cousin, Jon’s best friend and also family member to the victims of Dany’s latest dracarys incident and lastly Dany’s closest adviser and also ex-husband to Jon’s sister/cousin/the current possessor of a “part of him”. This is Days of our Lives gone terribly, terribly wrong.

I don’t think I have to explain why this is romantic plot suicide. A sex scene between a romantic couple is supposed to be intimate, tender, sometimes steamy. It not supposed to be the smallest part of an elaborate montage designed to tell us that the people currently engaged in the devil’s mambo number 5, are actually related as well as de facto rivals for the Iron Throne.

A lot of people have commented on the inherent issues with the set-up of this scene, from the lack of a first kiss (an absolutely crucial part of any romantic pairing), to the lack of conversation before or after , to the horrible transition from a dying, blood soaked Lyanna to Jon and Dany in the midst of physical abandon and up to Jon’s strange expression:

Jon: I don’t think Tinder is working out for me.

What I would like to do instead is show you a scene that has quite a similar setup to this: it starts off in a bed and also includes the dreaded body flip. This is incidentally one of my favorite sex scenes. I am, of course, talking about the sex scene between Achillies and Brisies in 2004’s Troy. When I uploaded this the first time, @lostlittlesatellites mentioned in the comments section that this film was actually written by David Benioff, which I had forgotten. So not only did the D reuse this set-up for the Jon/Dany scene but actually is well aware of the salient differences between the two scenes, since, you know, he was involved in writing both of them. Another nail in the “Ds suck at their job which is why they couldn’t write a better romance” coffin, I guess.

I would love to put this scene up here in all its glory. However, since Tumblr is a prude that can’t handle the gorgeous physique of one Brad Pitt, I can’t. Just type Achillies and Brisies into youtube because it’s a more liberated platform, incidentally with far fewer Nazis lurking around. Also here is a pic of Brad’s gorgeous abs. Tumblr, eat your heart out!

The body flip:

The body flip in the Brisies/Achilles is counterbalanced by the knife. These kinds of flips are awkward when filmed in a wide shot but the fact that she’s holding a sharp object to Achilles’ throat moves our focus towards the character’s faces and not the awkward body movement.

Focus on details:

When you watch this scene, you’ll notice that a large portion of it is Achilles pulling up her dress and slipping his hand underneath the material. That becomes a very intimate movement that, in turn, creates expectation … And expectation creates interest. It has a much slower build-up than what we get with Jon/Dany and it’s that prolonged moment that makes it sexier.

It tells a story:

This is very important. Words in scenes aren’t there just to make the writer feel important. They set the tone, the level of intensity and make the audience feel like they’re a part of it, instead of being kept at arm’s length because they don’t have access to the character’s thoughts.

The Troy sex scene is a whole story in itself: We start with Brisies trying to kill Achilles but hesitating. We have Achilles admitting he will kill more men and daring her to go through with her plan. We have him flipping her and then tentatively kiss her as she finally gives up and drops the knife to the floor. This is an intimate, character driven scene that marks the transition of these two from enemies to lovers.

That’s not to say that Jon and Dany’s scene isn’t telling a story. The difference is that the story it tells is plot driven, not character driven. What makes their scene inherently interesting are the revelations we receive about Jon and how that will affect the plot moving forward. In that sense they become secondary characters in their own sex scene, just gilded cogs in a much larger plot wheel and far from breaking it, their sex scene is advancing it. To what end, I guess we’ll find out in season 8.

And that’s it, you guys! Hope you enjoyed this series. I do have a few ideas on what to write next but if there’s something in particular you’d like me to cover, let me know.

In case you haven’t read the other 3 parts of the series, you can find them linked below:

Part 1: Are D&D really idiots?

Part 2: Repetition and generalization are the death of romance

Part 3: When everyone and their mother has a different take on the same line of text

Part 4: More than 2 is a crowd

PS: none of the artwork in this meta belongs to me. Except for b0atbang which is the only piece of art worth mentioning anyway and which shall be hanging in a museum near you very, very soon.

#asoiaf #got meta #got s7 #anti-jonerys #my got meta

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