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#when will people get it in their heads that shooting someone isn’t “more" violent

vaporwavebeach-writes · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 13 (Heartbeat)

Victor Zsasz x Reader

(695 Words)

Summary: after some rough fucking, you listen to Victor’s heart

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, some real rough sex in the beginning, scratches, bite marks, aftercare, cuddling, heartbeats (duh), fluff (finally!!!)

Notes: man, I love him SO MUCH I didn’t really know how to fit in the prompt for this one, but I think I may have pulled it off, enjoy the fic!!!!

You feel your arms starting to give out, flopping onto the bed exhaustedly. Your knees dig into the mattress, back arched as Victor pounds into you ferociously. You let out an impassioned whine, feeling his cock hit what felt like the deepest parts of you.

“Oh god,” you gasp, “Victor, I-I think I’m, fuck, I’m so fucking close.”

Continuing to thrust into you roughly, Victor’s eyes study your back. It was completely red. Scratch marks, raking up and down. Glancing up to your shoulders and the nape of your neck, he spies the several bite marks that were left in his wake- some already starting to bruise. He groans carnally, satisfied of leaving his mark on you.

“Fucking do it, babe,” he grunts, gripping at your hips, continuing to piston himself within you. “You’ve earned it, plus, I’m close too.”

You grip at the sheets, feeling yourself become practically spineless as you come violently, sobbing out in pleasure through your orgasm.

Victor isn’t much farther behind you. As he pulls out of you, You hear a guttural groan erupt from his throat. You shudder, feeling his cum shoot onto your lower back in thick ropes as he finishes himself off.

You lay on your arms, exhausted, fucked out, and sated, heart racing. You feel a warm, dampened towel over the spot where Victor spilled himself all over you, cleaning you up.

“Thank you,” you sigh out, blissfully.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart.” He replies, his hand gently ruffling your hair. You feel his hands move between your torso as he gathers you to his chest. Victor presses a soft kiss to your jaw, moving down to your neck to kiss over the fresh bruises. He moves back up, giving you several small pecks on the lips. “How ya feeling?”

“Great,” you answer back, giddiness fluttering within your stomach. Your legs begin to shake from holding yourself up. “Just a little exhausted though, you did just fuck the ever-loving shit out of me you know,” you giggle.

Victor lets out a low, playful chuckle as his hands smooth down your arms. “We can lay down here for a little bit if you want to.”

You turn to him, his deep brown eyes gazing into yours, tenderly. “You know what? I think I’d like that.”

With a gentle pull, you found yourself laying on top of Victor. He wraps his arms around you in a firm embrace, keeping you flush against him. Your head lays on his tally-mark scarred chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath he took. Despite the fact that Victor Zsasz has the reputation of being one of the most skilled hitmen in Gotham- someone who could easily take a life at a moment’s notice, this was a comfortable position to be in. You feel safe with him.

Cuddling yourself into him more, you can hear his heartbeat through his chest. After a while, you feel your breathing patterns start to match with his. You could’ve sworn at some point you heard his heart skip a beat.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” you note, grinning softly.

“Yeah,” he sighs, looking down at you on his chest. He runs a hand, smoothing down your back, making you melt into him. “It tends to do that when you’re with the people you care about.”

You feel a blush spread rapidly across your cheeks. It’s almost like you can feel your heart start to beat quicker, as you feel the ever growing warmth that starts to flourish in between the both of you. For him to say that in such a casual manner was enough to make your heart flutter.

“Keep talking like that, and I don’t think I’m ever gonna want to get up from this spot with you,” you chuckle.

Victor gazes at you with his signature grin. A grin that signaled mischief. His eyes though, were different. They didn’t hold the rascality as his grin, but rather, something softer. As he pulls the covers over the both of you, the warm feeling envelops you in a wave of euphoria. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I can live with that.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #victor zsasz x reader #victor zsasz x you #victor zsasz imagine #victor zsasz smut #gotham x reader #gotham imagine #gotham smut #batman rogues x reader #mia writes gotham!!!#mia writes batman!!!

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221bshrlocked · 1 year

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floating senses

Pairings: Hunter x Fem!Reader

Words: 1943

Warnings: Hunter experiences sensory overload. Talk of anxiety and panic attacks. Love confessions. Lots of touching. Implied smut...very implied. Like this is as implied as smut will get with me and that says a lot.

Summary: Something upset him so deeply that he couldn’t stand being in the presence of anyone.

A/N: I am feeling some type of way and this is the product of said, unknown feelings. Enjoy my lovely clone simps.

Something was wrong. You weren’t really sure what could have possibly happened that caused Hunter to drop what was in his hand so abruptly, and run away from you and the group. All you knew was that something must have happened that had him sprinting down the pathways and away from the city. You had noticed how uptight he was in the morning, but thought it was probably due to how busy the market tended to be during the early hours of the day. But as the hours rolled by, his eyebrows grew more furrowed, and his jaw tensed as if he was tasked with an impossible mission. Normally, Hunter was a controlled man, even in the most stressful of environments. He seldom let the situations get out of hand from him, and even then, he would voice out his concerns just to gain a different perspective.

But this was different.

Something upset him so deeply that he couldn’t stand being in the presence of anyone.

“Where is he going?” Omega asks as she finishes helping Wrecker carry the rest of the supplies. She is about to follow Hunter when you hold out your hand, signaling her to stop and let you handle the situation.

“Stay here, I’ll go and see what he needs.” You smile reassuringly at her and stand up from your kneeling position, nodding at Wrecker and Tech before walking towards the path Hunter took to the shore.

As you descend the city, you can’t help but admire the colors of the sky as the sun sets far deep into the ocean, painting the clouds with pastels and shining stars. By the time you reach the beach, you get the sense that you’ll need to be patient and careful with Hunter. Although you’d been with the Batch for some time now, you knew that Hunter didn’t grow easy around people quickly. In fact, you found him the hardest to convince of your good, unselfish intentions.

When you feel the warm sand beneath your feet, you take your shoes off and place them at the dock before continuing to where you knew Hunter liked to meditate.

Normally, when he feels someone approaching him, Hunter announces his knowledge, either by asking his visitor a question or remarking on how loud they are. You found it funny that he tended to speak first, knowing that it was probably for the benefit of whoever was interrupting his alone time so they don’t jump in fear when they see him all of a sudden.

But the closer you get to his spot, the more uneasy you become, mostly because you could hear the man groaning in pain. Forgoing the initial plan of approaching him softly, you run towards the large boulders near the edge of the forest until you come across Hunter’s body kneeling in the sand.

“Kriff,” you swear beneath your breath, sprinting towards him and falling beside his heaving body to let him know that he isn’t alone. Hunter initially twitches away from you, shaking his head and falling to the ground as soon as he feels your hands reach for his shoulder.

“It’s me Hunter, it’s just me. I’m here!” You whisper against his shoulder, knowing that voicing out your concerns might worsen his sensory overload. He shakes violently underneath the touch of your hands, but as soon as he glances to the side and sees how calm and worried your features are, he melts into your embrace and lets go of his chest.

His hands shoot to the front of your shirt, and you prepare yourself for being thrown off of him, but the opposite happens. Hunter takes one look into your eyes and crashes against your chest, clinging onto you for dear life until you have no option but wrap your arms around him and part your thighs so he can settle in between them. His body is vibrating with energy, and you want nothing more than to talk him through whatever anxiety boiling through his body. But you remind yourself that any extra noise will make things worse, so instead of calming him the way you sometimes do with Wrecker or Omega, you decide to let your touch do the work for you.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly move your hand across his shoulder and back, waiting until he gets used to the sensation before slipping your other hand into his hair and massaging his scalp. Hunter hisses in the beginning, his body begging him to remove himself from you so you don’t witness him during such a vulnerable, weak moment. But he wills himself to stay still in your arms, allowing you to drive his fears and sensitivity away.

You don’t dare look down at him, knowing that he probably already hates you having a front row seat to his anxiety. Instead, you think of the colors etched across the skies, allowing the soft sound of the waves coming to the shore calm the both of you so you don’t cry from how deeply you feel for the man. You’re not sure how long you lay there with Hunter in your arms, but when his body relaxes further into you, and his pained whines turned into deep, guttural groans, you know that he’s moved past whatever it was that sent him over the edge so cruelly.

Except the more you move your hands up and down his back, and the harder you dig your nails into the hair at the nape of his neck, Hunter can’t help but groan against your sternum, his breaths coming out hot and heavy against the little bit of skin peeking through the buttons of your shirt. His breathing is becoming erratic again, except unlike before, his body isn’t shaking from the violent sensory overload, but a more pleasant buzzing coursing through his veins.

The moment you realize what you’ve unintentionally done, you stop your ministrations and begin to detach your hands from his person.

“Please…d-don’t. I- I need to…I need you to stay,” his words are broken, voice hoarse from how dry his throat has become, as if he’s been talking for the past hours. You’re shocked by the turn of the events, but you’re more surprised by how comfortable Hunter is with you. You knew that he’d learn how to trust you at some point, but you never thought the trust would run so deep to the point where he’d willingly move past such a rigid line along with you.

“Hunter…you’re not thinking clearly right now.” You firmly respond, waiting until he looks up through heavy-lidded eyes and stares into your slowly dilating pupils.

“You- you’re the reason I ran away.”

It’s far from what you expected him to say, now of all times. You thought he’d tell you that he’s thinking clearly, or perhaps beg you some more in that sinful, gruff voice of his, maybe even tell you to just end his misery and do this once before you return to the city.

You must be staring at him with shock and confusion, because Hunter tenses his jaw and looks away from you.

“I was thinking about how caring you are with Omega, how much patience you have for Tech…even when he’s unknowingly insulting you…how sweet you tend to be with Wrecker, especially when he has nightmares.”

You can’t find the words to respond to Hunter, so you remain silent, willing him to continue explaining himself so your brain doesn’t explode from the sudden confession.

“And, you’re always so understanding with me…as if I haven’t been cold to you ever since you joined.” You don’t like the way he describes himself, so you finally break your silence and push him off of you until you can get a better look at him.

“I know it’s difficult to trust new people, especially now when your lives are at stake. I would- maker Hunter, I would never fault you for being extra careful. You’re just looking after your brothers…after Omega.”

“There…that’s what made me run away.” He cuts you off, and a part of you is unsure as to why that could possibly make him leave.

“I was thinking of you, mesh’la…until I finally understood why I don’t want to let you in.” It’s your turn to breathe harshly, chest rising and falling rapidly with every word Hunter bestows upon you. Looking at him now, you’re unable to hold back from admiring how boyish yet rugged he still looks as the pastels across the skies above you shine over his handsome, sharp features. His hair falls perfectly over his bronze skin, framing his deep, hazel eyes and chiseled jaw so perfectly that you can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing his aquiline nose.

His breath hitches at the gentle touch, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was already lying in your arms, Hunter thinks he may have fallen into your embrace if the two of you were standing and you decided to pull that little stunt. When you pull away, far too soon to his liking, Hunter lets out a shaky breath and smiles softly at you.

“I’ve let you in a long time ago sweetheart, and I’m done pretending I don’t want you.”

The sureness with which he reveals that last bit of his heart to you nearly sends you into overdrive, and you blink the tears away before you ask him one last time, wanting him to be sure of what he’s saying.

“You want me?” Your voice shakes as you ask, afraid that he’ll come to his senses all of a sudden and tell you that he didn’t mean any of what he just said. But Hunter doesn’t waste another second, sitting up and moving closer to you until there is barely any space between your lips and his own.

“Desperately.” He whispers against your lips before he engulfs you completely, the passion he exerts over your body forcing you onto your back. You part your lips for him instantly, combing your hands into his hair and tugging on it when he slips his tongue inside our mouth and tastes you.

You’d later tell him that the ease with which he confessed to you his feelings nearly made you fall over in tears, but you set the thought aside now, wanting to cherish the moment until it’s ingrained in your mind.

When Hunter pulls away, you open your eyes and find him studying you closely. You think it was probably his turn to overthink matters, and before he can apologize for how forward he’s being, you pull him back down and pray his name as you kiss along his jaw and neck. You barely hold back from giggling when you feel his elbows buckle, sending him flush against your chest until you hate access to the skin showing from beneath his shirt.

“S-sweetheart.” His voice is dangerously low, but you continue to map his scars with teasing kisses and little bites, wanting him to completely surrender himself to you.

“Hunter…” You moan in return, smiling to yourself when he groans in response to the lewd pronunciation of his name.

“I need you, cyare. I need you so kriffing badly.” He growls into the cool dusk air, hands grasping at your shoulders to get you to ease off of him if only for a moment.

“Then take me.” You respond instantly, letting go of him so you can lay your head back down against the sand of the shores. Hunter snaps his gaze at you, once again scrutinizing your features and body language so there can be no room for any misunderstandings.

“Fucking finally.”

#hunter x reader #hunter/reader #hunter bad batch x reader #hunter bad batch/reader #sergeant hunter #hunter the bad batch #hunter fluff #hunter angst #the bad batch #it's been a long time #and i'm still not over the last season #ugh #soft hunter #clone fanfiction #hunter fanfiction #tbb #hunter tbb x reader #hunter tbb/reader

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

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college baseball player!drew starkey x fem!reader

a college baseball au blurb

warnings: none that i can think of

Your professor was late to class again, and if you had to listen to the people seated in front of you squeal about the university’s successful baseball game and the hot players one more time, you were going to get violent. It was too early in the morning to be talking about something so irrelevant.

“And did you see number 7? He’s so hot and he’s literally the best player on the team. He made two home runs yesterday,” you hear the intended whispers. You don’t even stop yourself from rolling your eyes, not caring if anyone saw you.

You drown out all the talking afterwards. You desperately wanted to get this class over with, and your late professor was just making you more frustrated.

“Sorry I’m late! Traffic was horrendous. Speaking of horrendous, did you all catch yesterday’s baseball game. Our guys tore them apart,” your professor gained and lost your attention all within one minute.

“It’s just a stupid baseball game,” you whisper. Well, it was supposed to be a whisper, but just about everyone around you heard it.

“Well, y/n, why do you think it’s just a stupid game?” Your professor challenges you.

“Who cares if someone can hit a ball outside the park? The game is irrelevant and boring,” you state.

“Please! The game isn’t boring, you just don’t understand it,” a voice from behind you rebuttals.

When you turn around you’re about to let out a scoff, but it gets caught in your throat. Your eyes widen and lips part in shock. The man the voice belonged to was very very attractive. He was wearing a smug smirk. You wanted to slap it off his face.

“I don’t understand? You’re literally tossing a ball around, and when the player tries to hit it, they usually fail. The game lacks intensity,” you say, not one to back down in an argument.

“That’s where you’re wrong. The game gets intense. Have you ever seen a game when both teams are neck to neck, scoring run after run? Have you ever seen a dugout clearing fight?”

“No, I’ve never actually been to a game, or watched one because-“

“Never witnessed a game? Then how would you know that baseball is boring and lacks intensity?” He wins the argument, making you shoot a glare in his direction.

His smirk never leaves his face. It even grows when he sees your glare. His blue eyes are sparkling, and he nods his head when the other people around him agree with his words. He’s cocky.

It leaves you feeling embarrassed. You let out a small huff and turn back around in your seat. You wanted so badly to exit the room, but you weren’t going to embarrass yourself even more.

The boy who you were debating with enjoyed your reactions. The way you lost focus when your eyes landed on him, and the way he could tell by your fiery eyes and clenched fists that you wanted to rip him apart, riled him up even more. He thought you were cute.

For the rest of the class, his eyes were glued to you. He tried to talk to you after class ended, but you hauled ass through the halls and out the exit.

For the rest of the day you occupied his thoughts. He could still see your faint pout when everyone agreed with him, and the way you blinked your eyes fast as if you were avoiding tears. He felt bad after, he didn’t mean to make it such a big deal- especially in a class full of his team’s supporters.

He was lucky when he saw you walking after he got out of baseball practice. He was also lucky that you didn’t dump your cup of coffee on his head when you realized that he was the one stopping you to talk.

“Hey, I’m glad I ran into you,” he says through pants as he was still out of breath from practice.

“Of course you’re a baseball player. It makes so much sense now,” you scoff when you realize that the boy from your morning class was dressed in a dirty uniform.

“Look, I didn’t mean to cause a big scene this morning. It wasn’t my intention,” he apologizes.

“What were your intentions exactly?” You spit out with a roll of your eyes.

If you didn’t roll your eyes, they’d be glued to his pretty face and even prettier, blue eyes.

“I was just trying to defend myself and my team.”

“Good for you. I’m leaving now,” you respond.

“Wait!”

What more could he want with you?

“Can I take you on a date?” He wasn’t going to ask, but he couldn’t miss this opportunity.

“You’re kidding right? Why would I want to go out with you?” You’re shocked at his question, not expecting this morning’s banter to turn into this.

“Give me one chance. Just one. I can guarantee that you’ll be wanting a second date,” he muses.

“You’re so sure of yourself.”

“I’m a confident guy. So, is that a yes?”

“One date,” you tell him. You couldn’t help but grant him his request. He was good looking and you wanted to see if he was as charming as he seems.

He grins and shakes his fist in an excited manner. His blue eyes lock with your eyes, and you’re having a hard time not getting lost in them.

“Leave everything to me. Can I give you my number, so I can let you know the details?”

“If you must,” now you’re just playing around with him.

After exchanging phone numbers, you let yourself breathe and reflect on what you were agreeing with.

“Okay, I’ll see you, say, Friday at 7pm?”

“This better be good, 7,” you say referring to his jersey number and walking away from him without sparing another glance in his direction.

He laughs at your tough exterior and mentally plans all the ways he could break down your walls.

a/n: We finally know how reader and Drew met!!! I felt the urge to go back in time with the story, so you will be getting more of Drew and reader during the start of their relationship! Enjoy!

#drew starkey #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey fic #drew starkey angst #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #obx cast #obx3

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h4venpha · 10 months

Note

This isn’t self indulgent at all haha can you write a small thing where reader holds Vash’s waist. For no reason. Cough.

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𓂃 ⟡

vash the stampede x reader

cw: masc!reader, guns, alcohol, slightly ooc

a/n: oops okay turned out not a small thing, like genuinely havnt written smth this long in forever. not rlly proofread

vash curses lowly as a bullet whizzes by the shell of his ear and into the wall behind him. he raises his hands up in surrender as the men standing across from him in the saloon point their guns at his head.

“c’mon, there’s no for this to get violent, right?” vash nervously smiles and giggles before slowly standing up out of his chair, the guns follow his movement. he fumbles with the clip on the holster strapped to his thigh, attempting to pull out his pistol. he half places half drops it on the wooden table, metal clanking against the empty glasses littered around him.

“yer the one always makin’ things violent!” the man jerks his gun in vash’s direction, putting emphasis on his point. he sees the way vash’s smile falters. “yeah, i know yer the one who killed all those people in jenora rock!” the man says loudly, more to the bystanders in the saloon and less to him. vash stays silent, an unreadable expression, save for the faint fluster on his face.

“and yer gonna fuckin’ pay for it.” the man’s voice lower darkly, cocking back his gun as he points the barrel straight at vash.

the air is heavy as the saloon falls silent, tension thick as all eyes are on him. suddenly a resounding click as you open the bathroom door. heads whipping around after you cock your gun. vash lets go of the breath he was holding at the sight of you, his eyes dilating slightly.

eyes glaring hard at the man as you defiantly aim your revolver at his head, copying the same manner he holds his gun at vash.

“who the hell ‘re you?” the man gives you and incredulous look, gun wavering slightly as his grip shifts. the men behind him diverting their guns to you.

you ignore him, choosing to look over to vash. he looks unharmed fortunately, but it seemed like he had one two many drinks while you were away. instead of narrowing his eyes at your raised gun, they sparkle as he sheepishly smiles, looking a little too happy for someone with a gun pointing at them.

knowing him better than anyone else, you aren’t going to fire your gun anyway, it’s the last thing he wants tonight, even if he is smiling like an idiot. you scoff lightly. you’ll have to take care of this then.

instead of firing off at the man, like you want to, you flicker your eyes to the saloon door and back to vash, a simple: ‘run.’

pause.

one. two. three seconds— and vash disappears; a flash of red as he bolts out the front. at least he still understands your signals. the man barely registering before you aim and shoot right in front of his feet, the bullet diving straight into the wooden floor, causing him to stumble back.

“hey— what the—!?” you’re out the door before you even hear the rest of his words. dashing swiftly away as gunfire goes off above your head, the men following you out of the door. they’re cursing and yelling at you both for being cowards— the truth is, you’d like to turn around and fire off your revolver, but vash is more important.

you can just barely make out the red blur in the moonlight as vash darts down an alleyway. you beeline for him, desperate to get out of the spray of bullets. as soon as you turn the corner, vash is there, hunched over and panting hard. when he notices you, the brightest smile spread across his face.

“perfect timing!” vash gasps for air, “they were almost about to shoot me!” he laughs softly and pushes off the ground, stumbling over himself, reaching for the brick wall. a cross of disbelief and confusion on your face as he laughs at risking his life. you curse and peek around the corner, the men beginning to spread out and search for you and vash, cautious and aware that you both were more skilled than you looked. when you turn back, vash is almost nose to nose with you.

“hi,” vash purrs up at you, fingers fumbling with your collar. your eyes widen in surprise, what the hell was with him? just how much did he drink? you move back and shove his hands away.

“no, not right now,” you scold him lightly while shoving your revolver back into its holster by your hip. after peeking one last time, you grab his pistol off the ground and move deeper into the alley.

you’re only a few steps in, yet you turn around, not hearing him behind you. vash is standing there, eyes wide and a slight pout on his face.

“oh for fucks sake—“ you stomp back over and wrap an arm around him, cinching the red fabric of his jacket tight around his waist as you lift him up with ease. vash’s legs naturally wrap around your sturdy hips, arms looping around your neck.

“yay! i get to—!” vash starts to exclaim loudly.

“save it for later,” you cut him off and grumble lowly before speeding off down the alleyway, trying to put as much space between you and the men. god, and vash is nuzzling against your neck, which isn’t helping because you almost trip turning a corner. if be was sober, you both could take the men and diffuse the situation. but you’re reminded of your reality when vash kisses your jaw.

“will you stop that!?” you whisper-yell, speeding up a little. you grip his hip and vash immediately stops, realizing just how effortlessly you carry him. your strong arm holding him— fuck you could wrap one arm completely around his torso if you wanted to. vash bites his lip, restraining himself as you carry him and run.

far away enough from the men in fact the hotel was right down the block. you let him down, planting his feet on the dirt as you look down at him with a mildly annoyed expression on your face, yet the blush on your cheeks gave away how you really felt. vash ignores you, plastering a playful smile on his face instead. you look angry at him, but vash knows, he knows you’re more than willing to take charge of a situation if he can’t.

“what’s your deal? you could’ve handled that back at the bar, c’mon.” you accuse lightly, brows furrowing as you catch your breath.

“…maybe i just wanted you to take care of it.” vash steps in, feet suddenly steady and firm unlike before. “you didn’t shoot them either, am i rubbing off on you?” vash smiles, biting his tongue.

thats when you realize it was an act. the way his eyes clear up and the way he stands with defiance once more. you knew it was strange for him to be drunk —hell, he held alcohol better than you.

“you’re so…” you curse under your breath and reach for him. your hand slipping underneath his jacket, feeling the dark turtleneck before you yank him close by the waist. leaning in, you press your lips against his awaiting ones. pushing and pulling in rhythm as vash relishes in the warmth of your hand on the small of his back. you can taste the alcohol in his mouth, licking it off his bottom lip. you reach down and shove his pistol back into the holster on his thigh before you pull away.

“let’s get going before they come get us.” you say, pulling him along. vash is slightly breathless from your kiss, yet nods anyway, falling into step with you. a deep red on his cheeks at the weight of your arm wrapped securely around his body.

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blue-b-bro · 7 months

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"we were moving too fast" (run me through scene)

tldr:

I was digging, because, well, I just find this scene kinda weird. Like, why, and also what for?

We start the episode in a very yellow way. The most yellow in this show. But the practice takes place at night, in the darkness. Like, they are in the darkness. About their real feelings. To each other.

Soooo, the sword. Piercing your left side. Should I say more? The sword is an arrow that pierces the heart.

Stede has problems with not hurting himself with his sword. He’s inexperienced and clumsy, just like his love. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t know what Ed’s actions really mean, and what his own mean to Ed.

Ed spanks him with his sword in a flirtatious gesture, but Stede doesn't know it was that, proving this later in the episode.

Ed doesn’t agree to draw, he even says he’ll never agree to that, he wants to take control over this relationship, over the direction and pace they go by. Stede, being inexperienced and curious, agrees.

Ed throws his sword away. He wants Stede’s love, but doesn’t plan of giving it back. He wants happiness, but isn’t ready for that step yet (because they haven’t eaten the snake snack yet)

Ed opens his leather jacked, his armor, bearing himself, but not fully, still in his black t-shirt.

Ed threatening Stede to shoot him if he won’t stab him is him (Ed) jumping head first into that relationship, like taking it too fast or something. Stede panics, but feels pressured, that if he won’t, Ed will leave him. He doesn’t want to hurt him (to defile him if you will). Idk if it’s relevant, probably, why not, but we saw, that Ed’s gun wasn’t loaded. It was an empty threat.

Ed is happy when Stede stabs him. The stabbing being something very sudden and painful, but at the same time pleasurable, because it let’s him be closer to Stede. He invites great pain, of letting someone in his heart, just to be close. Like some kind of auto destructive act. You cannot get love without hurting yourself. Like it’s the only way of receiving that love, that closeness with Stede - destroying some part of himself. (hey, what did he do again in e9?)

“You see, getting run through is an art, I’ve had it done to me dozens of times. The key is to take the blade where it does the least damage.” sure babygirl. Tell him how many affairs you had and how much you don’t care. Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean there’s no damage.

Ed says, the important bits are on the right side, according to science. First of all, it’s Stede, who’s the science guy here, second - heart is on the left. Ed doesn’t think his heart is important, doesn’t take care of it, just let people stab him in the past, no big deal. “I don’t even know, what it does!”, yeah, but we know, you detached from your own feelings dummy. And Stede also does, but isn’t confident enough to correct him. He doesn’t know what to do and doesn’t want to hurt Ed, so he just listens to whatever he says, but Stede doesn’t know Ed’s self destructive.

When Stede asks, how to get it out, Ed says to do it gently and slowly, and it’s him, who decides when to do it. Like what he was doing in episode 7 - slowly letting this relationship whither, getting ready to just go away, denying yourself any deeper connection.

But what Stede did in episode 9? He get it out fast and violently, leaving Ed bleeding out on that beach.

Stede has problems with getting the sword out, just like Ed had great difficulties with getting over his feelings to Stede. Stede’s still panicked and confused, but does as he’s told. He doesn’t decides on anything, doesn’t feel qualified to do it.

Hey, you know, who is in this ~darkness~ with them? Crying, probably not really sure why and what the hell is happening and why Ed would do that, and why it hurts so much, fuck it let’s kill Stede, that’s the best solution! Yeah. Acknowledging one’s feelings and communicating wasn’t fashionable yet.

Run me through is basically Stede not knowing what the hell he is doing or should do in this relationship, blindly following Ed, and Ed destroying himself to be with Stede. Not bloody optimal.

***

Izzy fuckin challenges Stede fuckin Bonnet to a fuckin duel, to get rid of his love rival. (and kinda sad Ed didn't do it even tho he promised) No chill on this ship.

Ed, all smart after having first honest conversation about his deepest fears and crying, gained +1 to emotional intelligence and is brave enough to say “no” to Izzy.

Izzy didn’t have his crying session in the bathtub, so he uses his official version as to why it’s so important to get rid of Stede, Ed’s too anxious and unsure to fight more. He’s really new to this whole processing your emotions stuff. Maybe Izzy’s right? (because Ed believed Izzy’s bullshit about pets)

Stede, sure he’s actually aceing this all relationship stuff finally, agrees. Ed’s worried, but Stede was sure Ed knows what he was doing, so whatever he learnt from Ed had to be brilliant and correct (bestie, no).

All that confidence, but then he asks “what are those [duel rules] exactly?”. Yeah… After saying that out loud, he gets more and more tense.

Stede is surprised by ferocity and suddenness of Izzy’s attacks. He didn’t expect he was fighting against someone This stronger (devoted and determinated). He probably didn’t know one can fight so aggressively.

Izzy’s doing everything to show Ed “look, I’m better than him, I care more than him!”.

Ed just watches in the background, anxious and worried. He doesn’t know what to do or if he should/can do anything at all.

Stede is shit at swordfight but he makes up for it with determination and resourcefulness. (he may not know how relationship with Blackbeard should go, but he’ll try treasure map in hopes it works)

“Yield or die.” Stede throws gun powder in his face. You see Izzy, violence and hate will only blow up in your face.

The crew wants Stede to finish Izzy, and he does that stupid spank, (love is the solution, Izzy, mate). Stede doesn’t really wants to stab Izzy, he just wants to not die (Stede doesn’t believe in Stizzy). Seriously, their relationship is basically this: Stede not wanting to fight (not even knowing why should they) and Izzy wanting him dead.

Izzy cuts Stede’s way of escape. Time to choose Bonnet: you leave my man or you die.

Ed can’t watch this. Homewrecker vs homewrecker is too much of a conflict of interests. He cannot watch his partner killing his boyfriend.

“All right, let’s call it a draw” let’s work together, Izzy. We can solve it together, you and me. Find the compromise and all that. Fr they both want the same thing for Ed.

“Nah I’m good” and stabs Stede.

So what we have here? Izzy, right hand of Ed, stabs Stede, who does Ed’s trick, that he learnt from him. Stede’s looking at Ed, while doing that. Izzy is responsible for doing the hard jobs in place of Ed. Ed couldn’t do it, couldn’t commit. Was too scared to do it. He doesn’t look at Stede, when that happens (just as he doesn’t have the courage to look at Stede when saying “So, uh, I reckon what makes Ed happy…is…you.”, he doesn’t say “I”, distancing himself from the act of bearing his heart. He’s not talking about himself, just asking for a friend etc. He doesn’t do anything unless Stede shows any sign of reciprocation). So yeah, when Stede asks, if he did it right, that’s when he turns back and sees what happened.

“Shut up! Don’t you ever shut up?!” Stop seducing Ed with your pretty words Stede.

Again: Ed’s processing what’s happening, Izzy's wrestling with the sword, that stuck in cherry wood (red and strong). Stede responded to Ed: I love you, and I’m here to stay. And when it clicks in Ed’s brain, Izzy’s sword’s handle breaks, removing the middleman. Ed isn’t scared anymore. Stede probably still doesn’t fully understand what a “you wear fine things well” moment they have, but he knows he wants to stay with Ed (and not die). The feeling is mutual, just that no one really understand what feeling it is. And Izzy cannot stop it.

(Remember, when I said the stabbing was about hurting yourself to be in a relationship? Stede wasn’t ready, but agreed to run away to China with Ed)

Also, to make yourself sad, consider:

Stede getting miserable after letting himself take initiative for 1 second just to be rejected for it (in his eyes at least)

Izzy looks at Ed, completely crushed. So you breaking up with me?

Ed only shrugs, Izzy started this fight after all. Izzy looks at Stede, still shocked, completely deflates and makes his walk of shame.

After Izzy’s gone, Ed comes to Stede, very impressed, and it’s the first time he faces Stede when initiating the touch (tbh it kinda parallels their almost embrace, when Stede stabbed Ed). Before that, when he touched him, he was always turned sideways to Stede, not fully facing him.

“You shouldn’t’ve dueled him, Iz! We could've worked this out!” We could have invite him to our relationship Iz, if you weren’t such a possessive prick. No joke, Ed and Stede would agree to a polycule, after strengthening their relationship (like figuring out what they want etc., all three of them). Izzy, as a true tragic character, has played himself. (just like when in e9, Izzy wanted to take Ed for himself and escalated the conflict to such a unnecessary degree, that the only option was to leave him again. The harder he tries, the more it back fires)

In conclusion: Those scenes showed their dynamic in season 1, about Ed and Stede going too hard too fast, and now (s2) they’re learning to take it slow

Also:

#Also while writing this I realized that the Fuckery could actually symbolize fucking #Lol #I didn't expect for this whole theory to fit so well #our flag means death #Ofmd #Ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #edward teach #stede bonnet #izzy hands #edizzy #gentlebeard #Steddyhands

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ospreyeamon · 1 year

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For the life of me, I cannot work out what Palpatine’s actual plan was in Attack of the Clones. The Phantom Menace’s core plot is relatively straightforward (though the film forgetting to let the audience know Sidious and Palpatine are the same person leaves it appearing unhinged); Darth Palpatine persuades Trade Federation to invade Naboo to manufacture a crisis -> Senator Sidious persuades Padmé to call for Vote of No Confidence when current Chancellor can’t fix crisis -> Big Bad is elected head of state. In Attack of the Clones though, it feels like the evil schemes are missing some connective tissue. I can see what Palpatine’s goals were, but I have no clue how he was planning to achieve half of them, so it looks like he just got unreasonably lucky.

Sub-objectives of Palpatine’s evil plan for galactic domination;

The Jedi need to discover the clone army on Kamino (as close to the beginning of the war as possible; too far before will make it more likely the Jedi will seriously investigate the army’s origin or decide clone slave armies are bad).

Ideally, the Jedi should also discover the existence of the Separatists’ secret droid army because that will make them much more likely to deploy the clone army.

Get someone in the Senate to put forward a resolution to grant emergency powers to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine (as close to the beginning of the war as possible; if Palpatine has emergency powers when there isn’t a war, he’s more likely to be asked to give them up).

Have tensions between Separatists and Republic Loyalists continue to rise until things turn violent somewhere triggering the start of the war – but both sides need to look both plausibly reasonable and culpable.

Ideally, the Jedi should appear as the aggressors in the first battle of the Clone Wars because this will help turn public opinion against them.

Dooku needs to wave his edgy red lightsaber around in front of the Jedi so they will peg him as Count Evil McBadguy and ignore everything he says because it’s obviously a Sith trick. Convincing the Jedi that the Separatists are bad actors wilfully following their ancient enemy will go a long way to prevent them from attempting diplomatic solutions rather than violent ones.

Ideally, it shouldn’t become public knowledge that the Jedi had no idea about the existence of the clone army that was ordered in their name. If people don’t know the Jedi weren’t aware of the army, they will assume the Jedi have known for the last decade and hid the army on purpose because it was their secret army.

Kill Padmé because she’s blocking the Military Creation Act from passing through the Senate and because Palpatine doesn’t want her pulling any more solutions that he hasn’t predicted and can’t counter out from under her wig, like she did in the previous film by allying with the Gungans.

Maybe kill Jango Fett too. He was hired by “Tyranus” which is Dooku’s super-secret Sith name. If he knows Dooku was involved in commissioning the clone army, he might let that slip – and that information is horribly suspicious.

(Kill Obi-Wan because he’s Anakin’s competing father-figure. If Obi-Wan dies, Anakin won’t become attached to his new Jedi Master to the extent he was Obi-Wan, leaving him more vulnerable to Palpatine’s manipulations in his grief. Not super practical at this time because his main proxy is Dooku who would prefer to kill Anakin and keep Obi-Wan.)

Events play out perfectly to Palpatine’s advantage, with the exception that Padmé survives the film. But it seems implausible that he could have known those chains of events would or could occur.

Did Palpatine really know that the Kaminoans manufacture a unique style of poison darts? And that Jango Fett would add those darts to his arsenal and use them to kill Zam Wesell in front of the Jedi instead of shooting her with a blaster? And that Obi-Wan’s friend Dex Jettster would be able to recognise a Kaminoan dart? If Jango Fett leading Obi-Wan from Kamino to Geonosis was part of the plan, then why did Fett try to kill him so hard with the energy bombs instead of pretending not to notice he was being followed? Why try to kill Obi-Wan at all? Obi-Wan only sent the message about the clone army back to the Jedi Council on Geonosis, so him dying before that on Kamino would have been grossly inconvenient.

Does anyone have thoughts on what the hell is going on here? Was Taun We eventually just going to show up at the Temple with a clipboard to ask the Jedi which one of them was going to sign for delivery of their five million identical human men? How does a plan like that give Dooku the opportunity to show off his new red glowstick?

#Meanwhile in a Galaxy Far Far Away #star wars meta #attack of the clones #the Separatist Crisis #stars wars prequels #attack of the clones critical

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consul-valerius · 11 months

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Shipping with Damien💀🦇🗡️

The Darling of Vesuvia with too much to prove—and even more to lose.

Age: 24

Height: 5’3

Favorite Food: Candy—specifically chocolates

Favorite Flower: Roses

Star Sign: Scorpio Sun; Pisces Moon; Aries Rising [October 31st]

Likes/Hobbies etc.

Talking about wine—drinking it is another question

Parties—to an extent

Damien is a nerd at heart; art, science, history, local mythology/legends—he gobbles it up like candy and throws it all up on whoever he thinks will listen and not judge him lol

Particularly interested in death, preservation, and anatomy (GEE WHERE DID HE GET THAT FROM?)

Taxidermy—Damien does his own taxidermy and will often try to replicate magical creatures he’s read about

Sports—think horseback riding, shooting (bow and arrow), swimming, etc. This is often surprising to some people, but Damien is very competitive at heart and will use any chance he can to show off his physical prowess lol

He’s a little pot head but his mama raised him right and he will be surprisingly VERY polite during a smoke sesh lol (he’s a bit of a lightweight though, which is endearing)

Dancing and singing; he often incorporates music into his magical displays at the palace (he’s like a proto-pop star in Renaissance times lol)

Dolls/toys/stuffed animals

Sweets—the best way to initiate a courtship is to get him something sweet, preferably chocolates

Fiber arts—Damien is very experimental in his art (for Renaissance standards) and often incorporates fibers with traditional 2D mediums. He particularly likes knitting, embroidery, and felt, and he primarily uses oil pants and charcoal

Dislikes/Potential triggers

Claustrophobic

Afraid of the dark

Hates feeling like he’s being made fun of/the butt of a joke he isn’t aware of

Cannot stand someone speaking poorly of his parents, especially Donna as typically other nobles are particularly cruel

Anyone bringing up his “disappearance” in any context

He has a bit of an emetophobia—he hates throwing up (see: ectoplasm boy lol)

Being sick in general and doctors in general

Has many sensory issues to be mindful of, specifically with regard to touch and sound

Damien has a tendency to disassociate in the middle of a conversation, either for magic reasons, PTSD reasons, or more often some combo of the two

Hates being touched without his permission—will become violent in response

While Damien personally compares himself to his father, he hates when others do it to him, especially regarding looks

Damien is. Complicated.

Damien is well known throughout Vesuvia, and he has a multitude of suitors and playmates. He is deceptively sweet and charming, which gives people the impression that he is more invested in their relationship than he really is. Truly, Damien is a very shallow person and will sleep with who he needs to in order to rise to the top. Sex and romance are games to him, and he intends on winning (though what that means or looks like, he isn’t quite sure). It is not uncommon for some of his partners to see that he has written nearly identical letters to another person or has sent someone else a nearly identical gift. However, he typically always has an excuse up his sleeve, and if that fails, his crocodile tears are quite convincing to an unsuspecting person.

With that being said, out of all of my OCs, Damien craves love and genuine connection the most. Someone will be able to tell easily if Damien is genuinely interested in them: he will script less of your conversations, will seek you out first, will open up more easily, etc., etc. He is a bit useless when it comes to people he likes, and it is common for him to withdraw entirely before he ruins things. He needs a long-term partner who is patient but firm with him and won’t just concede to his whining. (And of course, Damien has a laundry list of shit he needs to do before being able to be in a relationship at all lmao)

Damien grew up thinking he was, literally, a monster and still believes this. He doesn't necessarily think he is deserving of genuine love, and in many ways, he is still very much the hurt child he was all those years ago, scared and insecure. These are things that a partner cannot change or make better, which makes romantic ships much harder and more complicated (fun sex is on the table though lmao).

He is prone to very severe breakdowns, and he has a bit of a temper even on a good day. Patience, understanding, and communication are key for him. Once he is calmed down, he is able to self-reflect and apologize properly. He never wants to hurt people he cares about on purpose—he’s truly a big work in progress lmao

Now let’s talk sex ! :D LMAO

Damien identifies as a dominant and will only take on a dominant role with suitors or new playmates. Sex and kink give him a sense of power and control, and he refuses to give that up to another person he doesn’t trust. However, he’s Donna’s kid at heart, and he deeply understands what it’s like to give up control and the trust that requires at the moment. He is very much inspired by older dominas, and his style and presentation reflect that (I'm still toying with a mentor character for him, but definitely a latex goddess lmao). He loves doling out punishments and just adores humiliating others—especially when he’s given enthusiastic consent to do so. He loves a sub that will lie on their back and beg to be degraded and stepped on lmfao He is not as invested in breaking a sub as much as he is in fulfilling both of their desires willingly. Damien was bullied very severely as a child, so he’s very big on aftercare and reflection after a scene with longer-term partners. He sometimes has a tendency to go overboard, so critique is important to him.

That being said, if he is with someone he trusts and has feelings for, Damien is actually not that kinky and is much more docile and submissive LOL He can be a bit of a pillow prince with someone he likes, and he can get very whiney and needy. Sometimes he truly just wants to be fucked in the ass until he falls asleep cuddling you, and that’s that lol 110% has a daddy-dom fetish (as a submissive—not as a dominant lol), but it will be like pulling teeth to get him to admit it lmao

The other biggest thing of note with Damien is that he will NEVER do vaginal penetration. You will be bitten, literally, if you try to break this rule, and it won’t be by his mouth either. He is okay with clitoral stimulation once he shows someone how to do it, but more often than not, he will get himself off with his own hands. However, he loves anal and everything about it. Damien also requires that his gloves and stockings stay on during sex, and he will get violent if someone pushes him to take them off lmao

Annnd now here is a full list of his kinks and fetishes; I may be adding more in there as time goes on, but right now these are the core ones lmfao

#bottom ponders #bottom draws #problem child Damien #shipping bio #the arcana original character #my troubled troubled boy LMAOOO #a pathetic little beast #officially making him a short king because i can

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willow-lark · 1 year

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not most people (but it's you) - wheelclair

took a break from my byler week fics to try something new and jot down a quick wheelclair drabble!! this one is dedicated to @booksandpaperss (💕🫶) who i was talking to a bit ab wheelclair aus the other day,,, ngl i'm becoming obsessed w these 2

As Mike watches, Lucas lifts his hand in a gesture that Mike knows all too well, with an uncertain smile on his face as he wiggles his fingers every-so-slightly in a wave.

Mike is tempted to reach up and pull down his window shade to cut off the interaction, to ignore Lucas and feed into the hurt lodged deep within his gut that he’s never actually let go of, and nursed for all these years. But—Lucas isn’t doing anything to hurt him, in truth. Did he really ever? Intellectually, Mike remembers the barbed words, the harm both he and Lucas caused each other. But it doesn’t feel like those things matter so much right now. It didn’t seem to matter this morning, when Mrs. Harmon paired them together for their new history project, and Lucas stuck his hand out in the aisle between their desks and Mike took it in truce. Somehow, even surrounded by meatheads and having assimilated into the ranks of all the thug-headed jocks that leech off the walls of Hawkins High, Lucas has retained the good faith that Mike remembers in him, putting loyalty above all else, and trusting those he cares about.

Lucas was always a lot nicer than Mike was, he thinks. Lucas doesn’t snap at people unless he has a good reason. He’s only got a bone to pick with people if they hurt someone he loves. Not like Mike, who gets angry at the people he cares about for no reason, uncompromising and mean even when he doesn’t mean to be, demanding that everything goes exactly his way.

Once, Lucas was Mike’s closest friend. Once, Mike would have reached for his walkie to radio Lucas, and they would look across at each other in their windows and talk late into the night.

Now, though, Mike lifts his fingers in response, and sends across his own tentative smile.

...

“Hey!” calls a voice behind Mike, who slams his locker shut and whips around. He didn’t sleep well last night, staring up at the ceiling with a pounding heart, mind all caught up in thoughts of what was and what might have been. It is only Lucas, leaning casually against the row of lockers in his crisp letterman jacket, grinning at Mike with that same easy smile he’s always had.

“Hi,” says Mike, grumpy, sudden butterflies in his stomach doing their damn best to flap all the way up his esophagus. He doesn’t look nearly as put together as Lucas does right now. The Hellfire t-shirt he’s wearing definitely needs a wash, and so do the jeans that he’s worn every day for the past two weeks.

“You want to come over to mine after school today and get started on this project?”

“Okay,” Mike says before he can fully think it over, but as he does he realizes he doesn’t really have an excuse not to. Corroded Coffin was supposed to get together and rehearse tonight, but Gareth’s home sick with a violent flu and Eddie called yesterday that he wasn’t going to be able to make the drive out from Indianapolis to visit like he had planned. “I was going to have rehearsal today, but I don’t anymore.”

“Corroded Coffin, right? That’s a sick name, man.”

“Oh, I, uh, I play guitar now.”

“Awesome,” Lucas says, and claps Mike on the shoulder. “I’m driving Erica home today, too, so let’s meet in the parking lot after class lets out. See you later!” and he strides off to whatever class he’s supposed to be at next period.

Mike stands there, noise of the bustling hallway swelling around him. He can still feel the warmth of Lucas’s hand on his shoulder, an old and familiar touch. Mike’s not that touchy of a person. Most people, he’d snap at.

Lucas isn’t most people.

hm. i May have to write more of them bc wheelclair is quickly shooting up my list of fav rarepairs. high school au wheelclair is something that can be so personal. like. they're so???? n e ways if u read this far i hope u enjoyed it!! mwah. xoxo.

#stranger things #wheelclair #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #wheelclair fic #lark's fanfiction

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adamwatchesmovies · 2 months

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John Wick (2014)

John Wick takes a familiar story and makes it its own. The film refines the revenge genre to its bare essentials and then fills the room that's been freed with its own mythology. With wicked gunplay and stunts, it’s hard to tell if the people who made it knew they were starting a new franchise or if it was the critical and commercial success it gathered that made this more than a one-and-done.

Ex-assassin John Wick (Keanu Reeves) is mourning his wife, who just died. He’s got nothing left to lose, except for his car and her last gift: a puppy. When some thugs who have no business messing with him do so, they unleash a world of pain on themselves, their subordinates and anyone associated with them.

We’ve seen countless paths of revenge that begin with a home invasion that leaves the (usually, but not always) male protagonist mourning the loss of their spouse and/or family. Writing the future victims’ dialogue must be extra challenging because you want to convey that they’re special without investing too much time in their scenes - the sooner they’re dead, the sooner the story can begin. Intentionally or not, this can make the spouses/family feel like they're merely props to advance the story. Writer Derek Kolstad takes this idea to such a minimalistic extreme I’m not even sure if it can be called problematic anymore. Helen (Bridget Moynahan) is already dead when the movie begins. What sets John on his rampage is the puppy she’s given him. When Iosef Tarasov (Alfie Allen) kills it, he transforms into the most shootable face on earth.

Once the bullets start flying, it’s a delectable buffet of violence. It isn’t merely that John Wick kills all of the goons in his path, it’s that he does with ruthless efficiency. There are no quips or jokes. The odds are massively stacked against him but he keeps going, always making the kills clean and efficient. Someone will get a bullet in the chest, and another in the head to make sure they’re dead. Every move feels calculated, optimized. You can tell he’s been through this carousel before and it doesn’t take him long to get back into the swing of things.

There’s plenty of talk between the Russian mobsters about the fact that John is “Baba Yaga” and “The man you send in to kill the boogeyman” but the film excels at showing rather than telling. A perfect example is a scene in which John and one of his assailants are fighting. Briefly, they’re separated by a thin wall. Realizing who’s on the other side, the Russian turns around and fires at shoulder level. Meanwhile, John ducks and shoots up at a 45 degree angle.

Numerous or not, the men employed by Iosef’s father, Viggo Tarasov (Michael Nywvist), would need to have an exceptionally good day to stand a chance against John. More likely to take him down are the myriad of other assassins we meet during the film - all members of an elaborate secret organization living among us. There’s a lot more going on here than a violent fantasy. John Wick is set in a world of rules and side-branches. There are cleaning services to dispose of bodies, special currency, elaborate communication systems, safe havens, special medical services and more. The taste this movie gives you makes you eager for more.

The only significant criticism I have is directed towards the dialogue, which can occasionally make the film feel a little more self-important than it actually is. No matter. Director Chad Stahelski has made a stylish action film with its own identity. It’s fast-pasted. The action scenes are memorable. So are the characters. Keanu Reeves is excellent in the role. In fact, he was made for it (or it for him, whichever). You can tell he’s doing most if not all of the stunts, which allows you to feel the impact of every bullet and beating. You're excited to see more once John Wick is done. (December 3, 2021)

#John Wick #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Chad Stahelski #Derek Kolstad #Keanu Reeves #Michael Nyqvist #Alfie Allen #Adrianne Palicki #Bridget Moynahan #Dean Winters #ian McShane #John Leguizamo #Willem Dafoe #2014 movies #2014 films

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my-brothers-corrupted · 3 months

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My Brothers, Corrupted

Book Five: Section Four

Jackie and Blue try to navigate Jameson being in the hospital, keeping doctors at a distance while also dealing with their own feelings about everything going on. Masterlist

Tws for discussion of hospitalization/institutionalization, mental illness, psychosis, domestic violence, and cult dynamics. Tws may not be completely exhaustive - keep in mind the heaviness of the fic and look out for yourself.

Thank you to @lehhoh7822 for taking the time to compile this book!

Anonymous asked: Hey Jackie, when you get home and check the cameras, just know your family is perfectly safe. They went to a hospital and the others are just on a walk. No one is hurting or in danger! Well, no more than usual.

It’s a few hours later when one of the few cameras they have left comes flickering violently to life. Beneath his hood, Jackie’s face is dark, his blue eyes alight with tumult, and when the messages don’t load fast enough, he shakes the camera hard, a shout tearing out of his mouth. Blood smears across his cheek and his hands are red.

They’re perfectly safe. No one’s hurting or in danger. They’re perfectly safe.

Not enough!

Jackie shoves the camera into the pocket of his backpack and takes off back down the stairs at a sprint.

“Jackie? Jackie!”

Chase is home by now, crying at Jackie to calm down, but his brother isn’t listening. Nothing is enough. Jackie pushes Chase out of his way and goes racing out the door and into the rain.

nikkilbook asked: JACKIE. Talk to me. What’s in your head right now?

If Blue wasn’t there outside the door to the hospital room, Jackie probably would have burst right in without even thinking about it. He’s soaked with rain by the time he gets there, chest heaving from the run, but he doesn’t pause until Blue shoots to his feet and grabs him by the shoulders, shoving him back from the door.

“Red! Hey! Don’t go in there all worked up, just stop, just stop!”

Jackie grips his shoulders in return, shoving Blue back against the wall, but there’s no aggression in him. His eyes are wild and blank, his whole head consumed by one thought.

“Red, Ro, Jackie, talk to me,” pants Blue, as his twin squeezes him tighter and tighter. “What’s the matter, what’s - ”

“Give him back to me, don’t take him.”

“No one’s taking him.”

“Give him back. Give him back.”

“Jackie. Jackie. He’s right in there. No one is taking him.”

They’ll put him in a room and he’ll never see him again. Jackie will sit for months outside his room and never see him again. Dapper will be locked up for months and months and there will be nothing Jackie can do about it. They’ll put him in an institution. They’ll put him in prison. He’ll just be alone. There will be nothing Jackie can do about it.

Again, again, again!

“Jackie! Look at me, look at me! Whose blood is this? You’re freaking yourself out, just - ”

Jackie shoves him to the ground and pushes into the hospital room, pupils blown, eyes wild.

scunneredzombie asked: Most doctor offices have translation options for people who sign! Blue & JJ, when you get in there tell them JJ signs and they might have an interpreter they can call in for you, it would be very helpful.

There’s someone standing over his little brother.

There’s someone he doesn’t know standing over his little brother.

And that’s not right. That’s not how this goes. That’s not safe. There are cops and magicians and worse in the world, and Red, you don’t trust anyone unless I say you can trust them, and even then, you sleep with one eye open, do you understand?

Yes, Anti, I understand.

I’ll let you go out on your own if you’re good. And that means you keep your fucking mouth shut, got it?

Yes, Anti.

Why do you gotta keep your mouth shut?

Cause if anybody else finds out about this -

About little brothers locked in their room and murdered enemies, about glowing eyes and glitches in the air, about Anti, about any of them, about anything in the whole of his life -

Someone will come take my brothers away.

Right. And then you’ll really know what it feels like to fail as a protector, little hero.

He’s asleep in his bed. He’s tiny and white in his bed. He’s hooked up to machines and medication and he’s hollow as the bones of a bird, sitting there with a stranger hovering over him, sitting there with a prison guard -

“Ro!” Blue is screaming, grabbing him from behind. “Stop it, he’s just a nurse! A translator for him to talk! Don’t, Jackie, stop it!”

He’s standing over the stranger and Blue’s hands grabbing him are the only things stopping a blind terror from reacting in the form of fury. Jackie stands, shaking. There’s blood on him. His mouth is dry. Blue holds him back, wrapping his soothing arms around him, begging him to be calm. He licks his mouth, letting Blue drag him back to sit beside Dapper’s bed, guarding his little brother, teeth gritted in his mouth til it hurts his whole jaw.

“You’re good, we’re good,” chants Blue, rocking him. “It’s a nurse, he’s nice, everyone’s nice, Dapper’s feeling better, we’re good. A nurse who can talk to him in sign, and he lit up so fast when he saw that, you should have seen him, he calmed right down…”

Jackie coughs, shutting his eyes. He’s so tired. He just wants to find them a home and lock them all in for the rest of their lives, so no one ever touches them again.

Strangers will hurt us, Jackie.

Anti, I know.

It’s only then that Jackie becomes aware of a man in a white coat sitting in the corner, his legs crossed at the knee, taking meticulous notes while Jackie breaks down.

nikkilbook asked: I feel like I need to point out that yeah, Red would have stepped up to become the Enforcer/Abuser if Anti had died there. But you haven’t been Red in a very long time, Jackie. You’re the boy in the red hood, not the glitch, Jackieboy Man.

He still just feels like Red. In fact, lately he feels more like Red than ever. All he has is anger and panic left. At least he felt like some sort of hero when Anti was alive, when his defensiveness was protective and all of his siblings listened when he told them what they needed to do.

Now he’s just anger and panic. Anger and panic. Anger and panic.

“Whose blood is this?” asks Blue softly, rocking against him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Jackie closes his eyes, fists clenched. “It’s not mine,” he manages after a few long minutes.

“Dammit, Jackie,” whispers Blue, because he knows it too - knows that Jackie’s being eaten alive by this new world as much as he enjoys it in the moments when things feel good. “Go home now, you’re flipping out.”

“Okay, I’m just bringing Dapper.”

“Jackie. He has to stay a while.”

“No. No. This is not where he goes. He’s supposed to be in the other room.”

“Jackie - ”

“This is not where he goes. This is not where he goes. He goes in the other room and I can check on everyone all night, as much as I want.”

“Ro, he’s staying here.”

There’s a clearing of the throat. Blue peeks over the top of the bed, face flushing as he sees the doctor looking at them.

“Would it help if I explained at all?” he asks.

Jackie blinks, glancing at Blue.

“No,” he says unsteadily. “He’s fine. We can go home. Yeah?”

The doctor lets out a small laugh. Jackie glowers, turning to look at him.

“Matti said you were a little overprotective,” the doctor tells him.

Jackie shoots Blue a dirty look.

“Oh, come on,” snaps Blue. “Look at yourself.”

“Whatever,” growls Jackie, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’ll give you a minute to talk,” says the doctor, rising to his feet. “And when you have questions, you can come find me.”

Anonymous asked: Freedom from abuse can be just as scary as it is joyful. But Jackie, change has to happen. If you keep living like Anti made you, it'll be very hard to heal. The brother hierarchy absolutely has to be abolished. You are all equally capable, fragile or not. Your brothers are adults just as you are. They can take care of each other just as much as you care for them. Have trust and hope in your brothers and their capability.

“You should never have brought him in. You should never have - ”

“Rose,” says Blue quietly. “Listen to me.”

“You should never - ”

“Ro,” repeats Blue more sternly, wrapping a warm hand around his arm. “We’ve been working on this. Listen.”

Jackie shuts his mouth. There’s a flood of words beneath his teeth but he shuts his mouth. For Blue. He’s trying.

“You were doing so well right at the beginning,” sighs Blue, sinking down to sit beside him, letting their knees bump together. “What changed? Ever since we left the mansion, you’re really having a hard time.”

“In the mansion you were all right there!” Jackie can hear the whine in his own voice, but he can’t help it. “You all did exactly what you were supposed to every day and you were all right there. Now you all want to talk about doing different things.”

“Jackie,” groans Blue with a laugh, his head falling on his shoulder. “You know your desire to protect is sometimes a little infantilizing, right?”

“What am I supposed to do about it?” asks Jackie quietly. “Just watch you all get hurt again?”

“Maybe,” says Blue. “Just a little, maybe. If that’s what making our own choices is.”

“Oh, and this was Dapper’s choice?”

“This was mine and Chase’s while he’s too sick to make his own.”

“You should have talked to me.”

“You would have said no.”

“Blue,” says Jackie, gripping his wrist. “They’re going to take him to an institution.”

“No, they’re not.” Blue rubs his shoulder. “Maybe he’ll be in the psychiatric ward for a couple days, but they just want to get him stable. They just need to see how he’s doing. Dapper can function for himself - with a little help - when he’s stable. They’ll see that. They’ll let him come home. The doctor seems good, Jackie.”

“You shouldn’t trust them.”

“Jackie. Chase was talking to me earlier and he’s right - we can’t just spend the rest of our lives sick and hiding.”

“We could,” protests Jackie. “We’d be together and safe, isn’t that what’s important?”

“You’re crazy sometimes. I love you.”

“I love you too,” grumbles Jackie. “But I am not leaving him here. End of story.”

“Well, they’re not discharging him, tough guy.”

nikkilbook asked: Jackie, between you and me, I’m not so sure the universe believes in “one chance.” I don’t think there’s a single, prescriptive path that some higher power demands that you take or else. I just don’t think that’s how the universe works.

Have you ever watched a video about teaching an AI to solve a puzzle or play a game? It’s chaos, with thousands of little dots all trying to find the right gap through to the next part of the maze. And out of thousands, one dot does well enough that the next set follows its lead before splintering off to find the next gap.

When the puzzle is solved, the dot probably takes the most bizarre, inane pathway possible—from the viewer’s perspective. We can see the whole maze, while the dot only know what it’s bumping up against. So what if it doubles back or spins in a circle for a solid minute or pinballs off the walls instead of just traveling in a straight line? It made it to the end.

It’s okay to focus on getting your family to a safe place right now. That’s the next gap in the maze. But don’t discount an entire section just because a previous turn led to a dead end. There’s never only one way to get to the end of this maze—heck, you could bust out a chainsaw and make your own path if you wanted to (unlike the dots, you have opposable thumbs).

You’re a miracle, Jackieboy. Your DNA is filled with thousands upon trillions of branching potentialities, designed to respond to and act upon the world around you. Your future is not and never will be only one thing. And maybe the branch where you marry Max has been closed off, or maybe it hasn’t, but that isn’t the only branch that ends with your personal happy ending, independent of and interdependent with your brothers. So do what you need to do right now, but don’t count your own path out just yet.

Jackie sits with his twin for a long time, thinking. He doesn’t mind the visualization. It sticks in his head - an AI exploring, bumping, returning, trying again. He traces patterns on the tiled floor, knees drawn to his chest.

“All I’m doing is bumping into dead ends lately.”

“Well, keep going,” chuckles Blue. “We’ll find a way out someday.”

“What if I’m just too bad at change?” Jackie asks. “What if I can’t ever trust you guys to be alone or to make your own choices? I’m just… so angry lately, Blue, and so… I’m scared.”

Blue rubs drying blood off his brother’s knuckles. “What did you do?” he asks softly.

Jackie cringes, turning away from him. “I… got in a fight.”

“What do you mean? With who? Magicians?”

“No,” sighs Jackie. “Just some asshole. He made a comment at me. Pissed me off. I felt like he was - like he was going to hurt me. So I got up in his face, and when he started shoving me, I hit him. And then I… kept hitting him.”

“Jackie,” hisses Blue, alarmed. “We’re supposed to be lying low! What if he called the cops?”

“He was unconscious,” replies Jackie.

“Ro, you have to be kidding.”

“He was going to hurt me,” says Jackie. “He was going to hurt you.”

“How was he going to hurt us?”

“I don’t know!” shouts Jackie. “He just was!”

Blue backs off again and goes back to cleaning the blood from his hands, exhausted. He lets him cool down again. They breathe. Jackie watches his twin wet a paper towel and return to him, and as the red slips away from the tiny cracks in his knuckles and fingers, he thinks about trillions of possibilities, and wonders when it was that he stopped seeing anything other than hurt siblings and isolation at the end of his road.

nikkilbook asked: I can tell you who I think Jackie is.

He’s kind. He’s quiet sometimes, and he’s loud sometimes. He feels his emotions with every cell in his body and maybe a few more besides, even if he doesn’t know what the emotion is all the time. He’s the kind of person who wakes up early to make bacon pancakes for his little brother but gets thwarted by a little grey cat.

In the past, he’s been the kind of person to love at the expense of his own soul. He loves and loves and loves until there’s nothing left, and he thought he was okay with that. He once said “you are the people who love you, and I am no one at all,” as if the love and energy and honesty and connection that flows from one person to another is snatched away by the universe the second they leave the room. As if the person he became because of that love and because of every struggle and adventure and regular day he had walked through wasn’t something he’d grown into all on his own, as if that was something he’d had to earn based on some arbitrary, unwritten cosmic rule.

I know that he is brilliant, that he can learn and do a thousand things a thousand times over if you give him a chance. I know he loves saving the world and making a difference, and that he’s an absolute dork who got a crush on the cop who was supposed to arrest him and who slaughters his brothers at Mario Kart and laughs the whole time.

I know he loves by telling the truth, but that he hasn’t figured out what truth he’s supposed to tell himself yet. I know he was created because someone was scared, but I wonder if the point wasn’t to shield them from the fear by feeling it instead, but to help them be brave by staying and feeling the fear with them.

Those are the pieces of you that I have, Jackieboy Man. Now you get to decide what the rest of the puzzle looks like. Tell me a story, Astrifer. Tell me a story about who Jackie is going to be now.

“Look, they’ve been watching a long time,” laughs Blue. “They know you, huh?”

Jackie shrugs, listening to Dapper’s breathing and tracing patterns on the floor.

“Do you trust the cameras?”

Jackie glances up at him, then at you. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess or you do?”

“I trust the cameras,” says Jackie quietly.

“Well, why?”

Jackie almost doesn’t want to reflect on how many things you’ve helped him through. All the memories seem to be so bad. Like there’s nothing else left.

“They helped me take care of you all,” he says, even softer.

Blue nods, leaning back. After a moment, he adds: “And Max?”

Jackie’s head rises, his eyes flashing. “What? What about him?”

“Did you trust him?”

Jackie stares at his twin. For all that he wanted Blue to know and meet Max back when they were together, he never ended up talking to him much about him. Max was separate from everything else. Max was separate from the badness - up until Jackie hit him and left him knocked out in a graveyard somewhere.

“Does it matter?” he asks morosely.

“Come on, Rojo.”

“Yeah, okay? I trusted him.”

“Why?”

Jackie picks at the floor, exhausted.

“He helped me take care of Dapper. He helped me… take care of… of myself. When I needed him. He helped me. He wanted good things for you. For me.”

“Okay,” says Blue. “So you trusted Max. And you trust the cameras - which are all pretty much total strangers, I might add. So if we think about this logically, don’t you already know that there are people in the world who want to help? Who can be trusted?”

Jackie snorts. “Don’t try to trick my autism with logic, Blue.”

“Jackie, this isn’t your autism,” Blue answers seriously. “This is Anti teaching you that the rest of the world is unsafe. Teaching you that you’re the only one who can keep everyone safe and that we’ll all get hurt if you ever stray from what he wanted you to do. And he taught you those lessons in blood, Jackie. I know how much he hurt you. I mean, I know change being hard and extreme emotions and all that, maybe some hand in hand there, yeah, but, Jackie - this isn’t your autism. That’s your trauma.”

Jackie looks up at him, mouth parted. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

“But how do I get over that?”

“I think you should talk to someone,” says Blue carefully. “And I think you need to start trying to trust us again.”

“How,” asks Jackie, clinging to the idea, the first attempt at hope he’s had in days. “How do I do that?”

“Why don’t we start with spending some time in this hospital,” says Blue. “And letting someone else help you take care of Dapper.”

Jackie looks up at him, sleeping in his bed, and for a second, the wires and needles and monitors aren’t just surveillance and pain for his brother. They’re medicine and supervision and professional help. They’re… maybe okay?

Maybe if he tries.

“Okay,” he says after a long moment.

And it still sends a thrill of fear up his back. It still makes his heart clench up and his chest shake. But he’s trying. He’s listening. And you’re right, Blue’s right, they’re all right -

If he doesn’t try to change, he will only ever be Red, and Red will only ever be the man Anti made him into.

Strangers will hurt you, Red.

You lied to me about so many things, little brother.

“Okay. I’ll try.”

aether-mae asked: Jackie, not to be a hopeless romantic here but of course he would come if you called. Whatever desire you have to see him right now he probably feels the same. You take care of your brothers until you’re fully settled, then if you want you can allow yourself a little indulgence and see if you can find ur fiancé? He would be over the moon to find out you’re free

“You still think about him, don’t you?” Blue says, a little teasing coming into his voice.

“Nooo,” argues Jackie, scowling as his cheeks color. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“He’d come calling if you asked, Jackie, I bet you anything.”

“Yeah, and then he’d realized what a fucked-up jerk I am and he wouldn’t want me,” Jackie shoots back, burying his face in his arms.

Blue’s smile sinks away. “How long have you been this down on yourself?”

“I want to be better for all of you,” says Jackie, looking up at him. “And if I can change at all, I will, no matter what it takes. I’ll do anything I can. But if you knew the way I think half the time, even you wouldn’t want me, Blue. I don’t want to find Max. I don’t want him to know who I am. He liked me so much. I couldn’t watch him start to hate me.”

Blue’s fingers are unsteady as they rest against Jackie’s shoulder.

“Honey,” he says after a moment, feeling his twin’s misery radiating into him. It makes his stomach hurt. “Can we…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” says Jackie. “I’ll go see a therapist or whatever when things are more settled. Can I just have a hug?”

“A really tight hug?”

“Just the way I like it,” Jackie jokes weakly.

Blue squishes him tight. They share the silence together, wrapped around each other on the floor of a hospital room.

Anonymous asked: Everything will be okay, Jackie. These people are here to help and keep Dapper safe. The tubing and wires and medical equipment can seem pretty damn scary, especially attached to someone you love. But these things will help him, just as much as you can. It's alright to let him stay here for a night or two, I completely understand your hesitance though. They will protect him, and you will see him again. There's nothing to fear here.

“Yeah?”

Jackie hasn’t slept all night and you can see it in the blue circles beneath his puffy eyes. He rubs at his face and sinks back against the hospital chair. Don’t ask him how he convinced the staff to let him stay all through the night. He has a weird feeling someone’s taking pity on them. But if it keeps him with his brother that’s all that matters.

“I guess everyone’s been nice,” he admits after a minute. “And he hasn’t seemed scared. Mostly he’s just slept, and when he wakes up he’s real loopy, but he seems… okay. Just tired, I think. They gave him the anti-psychotics intravenously so it’s supposed to be kicking in even faster than pills would. But everyone’s all gentle with him… all worried.”

Jackie kneads his fingers in his brother’s bedsheets anxiously. “I’m worried something’s really wrong.”

But all he can do is wait while Dapper sleeps.

Dapper wakes some thirty minutes later, hazy blue eyes sliding open. Jackie jerks upright and clutches his hand, staring at him.

“J,” signs Dapper flimsily.

“I’m here, man,” Jackie swears, squeezing his fingers before letting his hand go so he can sign.

“What day is it? Where are we?”

“We’re at the hospital. It’s, uh…. summer?”

Dapper smiles slowly at him.

“How do you feel?”

His eyes drift away. He sighs deep and sleepy, running his fingers through his limp hair and glancing at the wires he’s connected to when they get in the way. He thinks about it for a while, glancing out into the warm sun through the window.

“I feel pretty good,” he signs honestly, blinking. “My head’s pretty fuzzy. Not sure what happened. But I feel good. Really good, actually.”

Jackie seems to wilt with relief. “Good… good. I’m sorry I didn’t… I should have brought you in earlier, I think, but I was just scared…”

His brother’s blue eyes turn to look at him. There’s no irritation or disappointment to be found. JJ smiles fully at Jackie, gold in the morning light, and reaches out to squeeze Jackie’s fingers in return, leaning back against his pillows and letting his eyes slide shut again.

nikkilbook asked: Hey there, Jaimer. Good to have you back.

“Hey, there,” he says. “I do feel a little foggy.”

“That would be the drugs,” says Jackie warmly.

“Right.”

“I think the doctor wants to come talk to you soon. They might be pretty suspicious, pal. You don’t have much scarring - you heal really well - but you’re not exactly a healthy guy.”

“Oh, no, you talk to them for me. Tell them you’re my translator or something. I’m not really supposed to talk to doctors.”

“Who’s going to stop you?” asks Jackie gently.

Dapper’s hand rises to his throat for a second. Jackie recognizes the start of Anti’s sign name, but a second later, JJ’s fingers fall away.

He blinks, listening for a second.

He stares around the room.

Nothing moves.

“Holy hell,” signs JJ.

And then, after a second, he adds:

“He’s dead.”

Jackie watches him, mouth down-turned. “Yeah,” he replies.

Jameson nods slowly. “Wow.”

They sit. Birds flicker by the window, free in the air.

“How do you feel?” asks Jackie for a second time.

“I feel sad,” signs JJ. “And sorry for him. It’s very quiet. It does hurt. But it’s okay. I think I’m glad too. I think I’m glad.”

“Yeah. I think I get that.”

“Dead, wow. Anti.”

“Yeah.”

“Does it…?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it hurts all of us, I think. Even Blue is fucked up from it. He won’t admit that but he is. It’s okay to be sad.”

“I wish… I guess… but no. He’s dead. It was time. It’s a good thing.”

“Just feels kind of bad.”

“Feels pretty bad. But sort of okay too. Sort of alright.”

scunneredzombie asked: Jameson!! Welcome back to the waking world, I'm glad you're feeling well. Be careful with the doctors, they might not be very 'on top' of things like demons and monsters and magic. Try to twist things in a less magical way when they ask about the abuse, perhaps? I know you don't want to hide, but you must be careful as well.

JJ scans the message, eyebrows folding as he looks up at Jackie. “What am I supposed to tell them?”

“The doc thinks you’re crazy, don’t sweat it.”

“I’m a little crazy…”

“Yeah, a little,” answers Jackie, typing on his phone.

“Jackie!”

“What? Too straightforward again?”

The doctor comes through the door, clipboard in hand, a moment later. It’s the same man from yesterday who was sitting in the corner when Jackie came to find his brother. He’s an old guy with glasses. Jackie’s been watching him coming and going all night, mostly just double-checking JJ’s vitals or whatever and asking Jackie how he’s doing before sweeping out again and letting the nurses take over. His badge reads ‘Ryan Bowlan.’

“Well, look at that. He’s awake. Good morning,” he says, smiling at Jameson. “Good to see you up. How are we feeling? Shall I grab the translator?”

“I can translate for him just fine,” says Jackie.

“I feel okay,” says JJ, sinking back against his pillows.

“He feels okay.”

“I think you gave your brothers a bit of a scare. Do you remember what happened?”

JJ glances at Jackie. “Not really.”

“He says not really.”

“That’s alright, then. We’ll see what we can get figured out. I’d like to go over some of our concerns just you and me and the translator, if that sounds alright. What do you say?”

“I said I can translate for him just fine,” Jackie repeats tersely. “You can talk about whatever you want with me in the room. He’s fine with it.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, you should let them talk alone. Don't make the doctors suspicious, they might blame one of you or the other brothers for the scarring/abuse symptoms going on with JJ. JJ might also have things to say that he can't say in front of you that he needs to tell doctors.

Jackie’s instinct to turn on you in curbed by the realization that he can’t shout at a camera without looking equally psychotic. He bites down on his mouth, his leg bouncing rapidly, and shoots you a dirty look. JJ snaps at him for his attention and gives him a warning look in return.

“I can translate just fine,” signs Jackie. “You’re nervous, I know you’re nervous. I’ll stay.”

“No, not about me, you know that’s not about me. This is the control issues and overprotectiveness everyone keeps warning you about. They’re talking sense so stop being a puffed-up bird about it. I’m a little nervous but I’ll be okay for five minutes. I have the cameras anyway.”

“The cameras can’t protect you if he decides to - to - ”

“To what?” laughs JJ weakly. “Jackie, he’s a doctor. He’s not going to attack me.”

“You don’t know. You don’t know that.”

“Go pace outside. You are my brother so you trust me, right?”

Jackie’s gnawing so hard on his lip that the doctor actually steps forward for a second, a flash of concern on his face, but finally Jackie lets out a seething breath, a bit of blood on his lip, and gets to his feet, tucking JJ in before turning with a dark look and stalking past the doctor.

“Kiss, kiss,” he signs at his little brother. “Cameras, tell me if he needs me.”

“Kiss,” replies JJ warmly. “I’m okay.”

“I’ll be right outside.”

“Okay.”

Anonymous asked: What does the doctor have to ask?

Jackie paces in the hall, occasionally sneaking glances through the window in the top of the door. The translating nurse is in there now, but Jackie can only just see his back, and he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He finds a chair and rocks back and forth on the legs, ignoring the looks it gets him as he thuds against the tile.

“I’m sure he wants to ask about him being so… thin and torn up and sick,” mumbles Jackie, chewing on his nails. “What if he does think we’re the ones who hurt him? What if he doesn’t let him come home with us?”

“Jackie?”

He’s never been so relieved to see Blue coming towards him. He holds out his arms and is rewarded with a tight hug.

“They’re in there with him?”

“Yeah. He said he was okay alone. I didn’t want to leave him.”

“Well, if he says he’s okay, I’m sure he is.”

“How’s things at home.”

“Um… okay. Chase is avoiding me. I think now that I realized he might not be doing so well he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“We’ll corner him tonight, then.”

Blue chuckles. “Okay.”

“So what’s been going on?”

JJ stares up at the doctor, hands twisting in his lap.

“Your brother said he found you in your apartment. He thought you’d been there for a while, Kayden.”

His name’s not Kayden, but it doesn’t much matter. He needs to find the balance between the safety of lying, the necessity of some truth, and his own beleaguered delusionalism.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been healthy,” adds the doctor quietly. “What’s going on?”

“I couldn’t get out of my room,” he signs finally. The translator speaks aloud for him.

“Why’s that?”

“I wasn’t allowed.”

“Okay. Okay.” The doctor takes patient notes in his chart. “Who was stopping you?”

JJ sighs, shaking his head. “Um. Anti.”

“Can you spell it for me?” signs the translator.

“A-N-T-I.”

“Anti? What’s Anti?”

JJ’s mouth twitches with a tired smile, just for a moment.

“He’s my monster,” he signs softly.

“Your monster. Okay. Tell me about him.”

JJ puts his hands over his eyes and goes quiet.

scunneredzombie asked: You can do this, JJ. Tell them anything you need to, you can get through this. It might be helpful to talk about Anti as though he's either a human brother or a delusion?

“It doesn’t really matter anymore,” signs JJ. “Because he’s gone.”

“Is that a good thing?”

JJ squeezes his eyes shut. Ouch.

“Yes, I know it is. It doesn’t always feel like it is but it is.”

He doesn’t want to cry in front of strangers. He scrubs at his face and lets out a breath.

“What got rid of him?”

“My brother got rid of him.”

“The same brother who brought you to the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad he found you. How long were you in your apartment?”

“A long time. Sometimes I would try to get out but I couldn’t. I’d get in trouble, you know, with Anti, so I think I lost hope. Some days it was hard to remember there was even anything outside. Just in my room day after day. He told me I couldn’t leave. He was a monster, you know. He looked just like me and my brothers but he was not like us. My brother stabbed him.”

“He stabbed him?”

“I wanted to help but I was just crying. I didn’t want him to kill him. I’m a coward.”

The doctor squints his eyes at him for a second before his face is professionally sympathetic again. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot. We’re here to get you some help, okay? Do you see Anti now?”

“No… he’s gone. He won’t come back. Well, I guess sometimes I’ve been seeing him and hearing him. But really he’s gone because my brother saved me even though I didn’t deserve it.”

The doctor leans forward to set a soothing hand on his wrist, but JJ jerks back in alarm.

“Please don’t touch me!” he signs. “That’s not allowed, that makes me go crazy.”

“I’m sorry, Kayden, I won’t touch you then. What do you mean when you say that?”

“I’m still just Anti’s killer, really, I - I just lose control - I hurt people. He would bring people to my room and make me hurt them, but I - ”

“Hey,” says the doctor clearly, setting his hand gently down on the sheets of the bed instead. “There was no one else in your apartment. I think things are okay. Do you see anybody hurt right now?”

“No… no, I think the medication’s working okay.”

“Well, that’s good. Are you okay with being on medication?”

“Yes, I’m happy about that. I feel terrible when I’m off the stuff. Scared all the time.”

“Are you scared now?”

“Yes, but not so bad. Not nearly so bad. And just of normal stuff. Not Anti controlling my brain or my brothers secretly being possessed. Just normal stuff.”

“Okay. Well, Kayden, I’d like to review some blood tests we did yesterday. There’s some concerns I’d like to address but we’re going to get to work on all of them. I can talk to your brothers about it too afterwards and we’ll all make a plan for how to tackle this. Does that sound okay?”

JJ blinks, looking up at his eyes. He doesn’t look like a bad man. And the thought of actually knowing what’s going on with him - and better yet, being able to do something about it - well, that sounds wildly good to him. Impossibly good, almost. Is this what normal people do? If you’re in pain, you try to fix it?

“Yeah,” he signs. “I think that sounds good.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Jackie, in your note that morning you mentioned you might've found somewhere to stay and people who could help. What did you find?

“Oh! Yeah!” Jackie pulls a yellow pamphlet out of his hoodie pocket and hands it to Blue, pointing at a number under ‘housing.’ “I went to the Victim’s Advocate place in the middle of town. Told them I was trying to get away from someone who was hurting me. They said that this place will set you up in a hotel and then help you apply for housing if you’re broke. Like, low-income housing, you just gotta pass a background check. So they can get us in a hotel tonight I think, maybe two if we call from different numbers.”

Blue blinks up at him. “Jackie, that was pretty smart.”

Jackie shrugs. “You said we needed somewhere to stay, so I found somewhere.”

Blue rubs his shoulder, grinning at him, and flips through the pamphlet. “This could help us get food assistance and jobs too. This is great.”

“We just have to stay on the down-low. If anything connects us to the murders and thefts we’ve done, we’re lost. We’ll have to run again.”

“Well, then no more getting in fights,” Blue warns him. “Jackie, you have to find something else to do with the aggression.”

Jackie sighs and slides back in his seat. “Working on it.”

“You could have told me about this earlier too, ha.”

“Well, I guess I got distracted.”

The doctor is stepping out into the hall a moment later and turning to look at them.

“Good morning,” he says politely. “Can I meet with you two in my office for a minute?”

Blue and Jackie exchange rapid looks.

scunneredzombie asked: Chase, Henrik, how are you doing? Everything is going okay at the hospital I think, they're taking care of each other. No one checked on you two in a while so I'm making sure everything's good!

“We’re okay,” sighs Chase, stacking a domino on its side. Trying to engage Henrik has resulted in the pair of them making domino towers for the better part of the day, but at least his twin looks at ease, carefully arranging the dominoes higher and higher with a precision reminiscent of his more alert days. “Not doing too much, I guess.”

He takes a swig from a beer stolen from the fridge and sits back with dull eyes, watching his brother build. There’s something haunted in his face today, and his fingers, drumming against the table, are impatient and frustrated.

“Dok?” he calls.

Henrik places one domino on top of another.

“Henrik. Dok. Deutsch. Hey.”

Henrik scratches at a bandaid on his cheek and picks up another domino. Chase slumps back against the couch, shaking his head, and takes another drink.

“Just let me know if we can go to the hospital for a turn. I could use a change of scene.”

The doctor’s office is filled with plants.

Jackie picks at a succulent on the desk, leg bouncing. Blue looks carefully around the office, much more still than his brother, hands clasping hard on his knee. The ferns and plants throughout the room shift slightly as he pulls at the reassuring buzz of his power, waiting for a threat. Waiting for a fight.

“Thanks for coming in,” says Doctor Bowlan.

The twins stare at him, eyes flickering as he shuts the door behind him and traps them in the room, heading towards his desk and taking a seat.

“I just wanted to sit down with you to talk about some of your brother’s behaviors. He signed a form for me to talk about some of his symptoms and information with you. Do you have a few minutes?”

Jackie and Blue exchange looks, mouths setting in sync. Here it comes – the questions about scars and trauma and monsters in their memories. They have to balance staying on the down-low with providing enough information to get JJ help. Jackie lets Blue do the talking. Jackie’s in charge, sure, but Blue’s the better liar.

“Sure,” Blue answers. “Yes, please, we want to know what’s going on with him.”

“You said he’d been living on his own for a while before you visited him?”

“Yeah,” says Blue. “He has an apartment in town. Or had an apartment. When we came to visit him he was just… wandering.”

“It’s a good thing you did check on him. Seems he’s been off his medication for a while. You put that he has schizophrenia in his file? I don’t see a diagnosis.”

“He was diagnosed in another country. He travels a lot. Not sure if it was ever official, though. Just know he used to be on Haldol.”

“Unfortunately I’m concerned that some of his behaviors are extending beyond the scope of schizophrenia.”

Blue blinks, glancing at his twin. “What does that mean?”

“Your brother has a very powerful delusion that he was trapped in his room for several years,” says the doctor, looking up at them both. “Or it seems to be a delusion. Sometimes he’s more clear than other times. Sometimes he tells me it didn’t happen. Sometimes he says it did. Why would he say something like that?”

Blue shrugs, mouth pursed. “He has delusions about time travel and international crime, too.”

“Your brother has some really concerning scars.”

“I’m scared he’s been hurting himself.”

“I’m scared someone else has been hurting him,” replies the doctor, voice a little flatter, leaning slightly forward. “Because last I checked, most patients, whether or not they have psychotic disorders, do not self-harm with bite marks in their wrists, poorly set bones, and remnants of what appear to be belt marks across their back. His blood work suggests he’s been under-medicated for more than a year. He’s malnourished, vitamin deficient, traumatized, isolated, and just scarred enough for any doctor with a pair of eyes and half a brain to know that something messed up is going on here.”

Blue’s mouth is dry, but his eyes are stinging. He stares down at the floor.

“Have you called the cops or what?” asks Jackie coldly after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’d like to know how to help you,” Bowlan hisses back, his dark eyes flashing. “Because guess what, guys? You also appear to be – how do I put this? – messed up. Over-protective, paranoid, aggressive with the nurses, secretive, scarred-up, visibly hungry… or did I imagine you swiping donuts from the break room with all the confidence of an experienced thief?”

Jackie squirms guiltily, chewing on his mouth, his left hand gripping Blue’s wrist defensively. After a second, he tugs on it firmly, and the two of them get to their feet.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Blue.

“Don’t go,” the doctor shoots back firmly, his eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare go or I’ll call Adult Protective Services and the cops, and then keep your little brother in the psych ward until a very thorough social worker has decided that he is safe with you – or not.”

Jackie’s hand is shaking around Blue’s wrist. They both stare at each other for a second. Blue draws his shoulders back and Jackie follows suit, taking a deep breath in. They turn back to the doctor.

“What do you want?” asks Jackie.

“Nothing, guys, nothing,” protests the doctor, voice softening as he opens his hands. “To help, that’s all. To know that he’s safe. If I thought one of you had done this to him, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. What the hell are you lot running from?”

Blue shakes his head. “It’s a very long story,” he whispers.

“Are you safe now?” asks the doctor seriously. “Is someone going to come try and hurt him?”

“No,” says Blue softly. “I took care of it.”

The doctor nods for a second, looking up at them. Then he gets to his feet and takes off his lab coat. “What’s your guys’ names again?” he asks.

Jackie and Blue blink.

“Uh – just Ro is good,” says Jackie.

“I’m Matti,” says Blue.

“Ro. Matti. Okay. Well, I’m Ryan. Can I get the pair of you some lunch?”

Anonymous asked: Blue, Jackie, talk about Anti as though he's a human, an abuser who kidnapped all of you. It would make it easier for the doctor to understand. And for lords' sake let him buy you a lunch, y'all need it.

“I… could use some lunch,” Blue offers at last, glancing at Jackie, who’s so taut he looks like he might actually attack Bowlan. But Blue knows he’s hungry too, and he’s trying not to do anything that will make anyone think they can’t look after JJ.

“Great,” says the doctor, with all the caution of a horse girl on TV trying to tame a stallion.

Blue thinks it’s a fair comparison a few minutes later, watching Jackie shovel cafeteria nachos breathlessly into his mouth. It actually makes him smile despite himself. What a mess. They’re all a goddamn mess. He picks at a chicken salad, watching Bowlan warily and trying to figure out where to start.

“I didn’t find him in his apartment,” he says finally. “Or on the street alone.”

Bowlan is an old man with white hair and dark, intelligent eyes. He watches him carefully.

“We were in America,” says Blue. “And the demon he talks about was someone we knew. Not a hallucination. We realized he was hurting him… hurting all of us… so I stopped him.”

Bowlan nods slowly, an illusion of carelessness as he drinks from a cup of tea. “Kayden says you stabbed him.”

Blue stares at his chicken. Jackie is gripping his knee tight, the two of them bent towards each other, a united front against whatever comes, and Blue loves him, and knows he loves him too. They look at each other and Blue lets Jackie keep going.

“The past doesn’t matter so much now,” says Jackie. “Cause he’s gone and won’t hurt us anymore.”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore?” asks Bowlan.

“It will be good soon,” says Jackie. “Just give us a little time.”

Blue realizes, with a rapid and clarifying sense of shame, that Jackie is parroting his own blind optimism.

“I didn’t ask about soon. Does it hurt now?”

Jackie glances at his twin and then back at the doctor. “Does what?”

“What you’ve been through. Is it still hurting?”

Jackie looks down at his plate, sifting some chips around. “Well. Kayden’s pretty sick.”

“Are you sick?”

“I’m… no, I’m good. I just - it’ll be good soon.”

“It’s Ro, yes?”

“Yes, I’m Ro.”

“You have some deep scars in your face.”

Jackie plucks self-consciously at his beard.

“Where are those from?”

Jackie looks away, face coloring.

“From him,” he says.

“Anti?”

“From Anti. Yeah. But that’s…. those are just old scars. So no, they don’t hurt anymore. It’ll be good. We should talk about Kayden.”

scunneredzombie asked: It's okay to talk about how hurting you are, Jackie. You came out of it with scars and trauma too. You're not alone in your pain, and JJ and you have been through the ringer and pulled back again. It's okay to acknowledge that it hurts. Not everything is okay, but that's okay.

Jackie purses his mouth before sticking another handful of nachos in it.

“I’m just taking guesses here,” says Bowlan. “But the only reason I’m bringing it all up is because I expect that the pair of you need some medical attention as well.”

Blue and Jackie exchange sulking looks. Blue sips at his fizzy drink.

Bowlan sighs.

“Okay. Let’s talk Kayden.”

“Please,” mumbles Blue.

“Schizophrenia is one thing. There are ways we can work on handling it. Sometimes schizophrenia does not respond well to treatment or medication, but based on what you’ve told me, I think some behavioral therapy and medication, along with social support, could really help Kayden improve.”

“That’s great. But you said you thought there was more than schizophrenia going on.”

“Well, there’s the obvious things - vitamin deficiencies and some other things I want to look into. His bones are pretty brittle. I’m not surprised he has old fractures. But psychologically, yes, I’m worried about other things. Your brother’s traumatized. I’m concerned about Post-Incarceration Syndrome.”

“What… what is that?” asks Jackie. “Like, what does that mean?”

“No matter what happened to you boys, it seems that Kayden has really felt that he has been alone – and possibly stuck in his room – for several months, believing that this Anti is forcing him to stay inside. So, while Post-Incarceration Syndrome is usually applied to someone who has been in prison, I think it might describe some of what your brother is going through. It often includes PTSD – the reliving his terror, the paranoia, the panic attacks and breakdowns – and can even include Stockholm Syndrome, which, in what I have to admit would make a very interesting case study, he seems to have developed through his own hallucination. Most concerningly, I think that Kayden is demonstrating Social Sensory Deprivation from long-term isolation.”

Blue’s stomach flips. He stares down at his plate, losing his appetite fast.

“He has some stimming behaviors consistent with intense social deprivation, including, at times, self-harm, slamming his head into things or biting his fingers to blood. He’s deeply obsessive. You’ve probably seen the way he draws for hours and hours at a time, often unable to stop even when someone tries to pull him out of it, and sometimes drawing the same thing again and again and again. He gets overwhelmed if you talk to him for too long, but at the same time, he seems almost alarmingly desperate for social interaction. He needs to be with people right now.”

“We won’t leave him on his own again,” whispers Blue, unable to meet his eyes. “We… couldn’t do anything about it til now.”

“All we can do is move forward,” agrees the old man kindly, stirring his tea. “I’m just sorry he’s been through so much. And I’m glad he has you now.”

“Yes, forever now,” agrees Jackie. “I promise.”

“But there is another reason I’m bringing this up. Post-Incarceration Syndrome can also include personality changes and a shifted view of the world. In Kayden, this is appearing as learned helplessness and submissiveness, generally ingrained in a person as part of their survival mechanism in an oppressive or abusive environment. He has felt that he is completely at the mercy of this monster for a very long time, and that would make it difficult for anyone to get out of the mindset that kept them alive.

“On the other hand, in some prisoners, it manifests as aggression towards others and more angry, defensive personality traits and outbursts, trying to protect one’s self from the abusive environment by lashing out. But Kayden has been mild – and in fact quite kind – so long as he isn’t hallucinating a threat. There can also be a need for control and a preference for the set-up of the abusive system even if it was problematic. They’re called Institutionalized Personality Traits – or just Antisocial Personality Traits. And I bring this up, boys, just because I wonder if maybe Kayden isn’t the only one displaying some of these behaviors.”

Blue and Jackie look up together, and then at each other, sharing the same expression of alarm. Just as quickly, they turn back to their plates, Jackie scraping up his chips while Blue takes a hasty sip of his drink.

Bowlan laughs and then clears his throat apologetically. “Sorry, it’s just that you two are certainly twins. I think you must be using telepathy.”

Blue sighs, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “We just… we’re here for Dap – for Kayden.”

“If Kayden is the only one who’s been through hell in the last few months, then sure, let’s focus on Kayden,” Bowlan agrees, picking at his salad.

“I do have some control issues and a bad temper sometimes,” says Jackie. “Hard to keep my emotions in check. That’s probably all you’re seeing.”

“Ah,” says Bowlan, visibly unconvinced. “And yourself, Matti?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” answers Blue blankly.

“You’re also quite thin, the pair of you. A little more active, I would guess, but quite thin. A little scarred up. A little panicky at times, if you don’t mind me saying. Look, we don’t have to get into it, I’m not a shrink, just… think about it. About getting some help for yourself.”

Blue turns away darkly, but Jackie’s wheels are already spinning, absent-mindedly sifting his chips through cheese. He does have angry outbursts. He does cling to the brother system and relive bad shit that’s happened to him, and sometimes he feels so angry at everyone else around him that he just wants to slink home to his brothers and spend the rest of his life hating the world until it stops scaring him. Post-Incarceration Syndrome. It repeats in his head.

Maybe it’s a name for the enemy he’s facing.

And if he can admit that there is an enemy to face, if he can admit that there is something that’s hurting him - well, maybe then he can fight it too.

“What do we do to help Kayden with all that, though?” asks Blue. “Social isolation and learned helplessness and Stockholm Syndrome. Like a therapist, okay, sure. But what do we do? As his family?”

“I think it will be really good for him to be living with someone again,” Bowlan encourages. “Keeping him company, providing him with the social stimulation he’s been missing. Just helping him live again, you know? He needs hobbies other than drawing for fourteen hours a day. Needs to get out of the house, to meet people, to remember who he was before all this. Help him make his own decisions and give him power in his life again so he doesn’t think he just has to lie down and let this all happen to him. Respecting his choices is going to be key here. I’ve been watching you two – I know you want to take care of him. But you will need to be able to let him decide how to take care of himself too once he’s feeling a little more stable. Otherwise you’ll just become the new boss to him.”

Blue nods. He supposes that’s what the cameras said too. Tearing down the big brother system. Treating Dapper like an equal. In the abstract, it all makes sense. He just needs to start applying it. Harder than it sounds, but… necessary. Vital, even. Shit, this is going to be difficult.

"Do you have any questions for me?” asks the doctor.

Anonymous asked: Hey Chase, how is Noodle doing? You haven't mentioned your kitty in a while.

“He’s in the garage,” mumbles Chase, kicking his feet against the carpet. “Scratches up the curtains if we let him in. Not that we haven’t already fucked the house up. I wish we had somewhere of our own to stay. Even just a wrecked cabin somewhere. We’ve lived in worse. I just wish something would change.”

He takes another slow drink of his beer and sets it down, empty, beside the second at his feet. Henrik stares at him for a second.

“What?” sighs Chase. “You okay? Or less okay than you usually are? Jackie said he’d try to bring us more food today, but we have water and stuff. What do you need?”

Henrik just gazes at him. Chase bites his teeth, suddenly and painfully angry. He wants to fucking shake him.

“I wish you’d just say anything to me, Deutsch,” cries Chase. “Aren’t you there? Can I have another hug? Do you even know it’s me next to you? Please just tell me what to do for you.”

Henrik ducks his head slightly, still staring up at him. Big blue eyes. Big and endless. Chase squints back at him, searching for any sign of his twin.

Universe eyes, going on forever.

Sharp blue, oceanic.

Chase blinks, dazed.

Are you tired? You look tired.

Blue eyes darkening.

Just lie down, Trick. You’re tired. You’ll be good for me, won’t you?

He can’t seem to move. He is tired. He’s not angry anymore. The house is comfy and they have everything they need. He doesn’t know why he complained.

Henrik’s head tilts a little and their gaze breaks. Trick crumples off the couch in an instant, ragdolling onto the floor.

Anonymous asked: Ask the doctor about more of your symptoms, Jackie. See if he can give you more names for the monsters surrounding you.

Jackie sighs, resting his chin in his hands. It’s weird, but for a second he almost wishes… Blue weren’t here. Which isn’t something he’s wished in months.

“I have a lot of control issues,” he says finally. “And I think maybe it is because that was the system. Now I think that if I’m not in charge, something bad will happen to everyone. And I’ll… get in trouble.”

“What does ‘getting in trouble’ mean?” asks Bowlan quietly.

Jackie cringes. Blue’s staring at him, expression caught somewhere between warning and concern.

“Um. He chained me to my bed once. Or we just wouldn’t eat. Or just old-fashioned, you know. Like, he - he would cut me up or smack me around a little.”

“How old was Anti?” asks Bowlan.

“He was a couple years younger than me. He was the middle brother.”

And that breaks through the doctor’s professional facade. He rears back for a second, blinking.

“Oh. This was your brother too?”

“No,” says Blue quickly, grabbing Jackie’s arm. “No, he just - we called each other - it wasn’t that bad. Jackie, let’s go. Thanks for lunch.”

“He’s dead now, what does it matter?” asks Jackie miserably. “Fucking asshole. Yeah, my little brother. I thought I had to protect him. But he just hurt all of us. And I’m still scared of him even though he’s gone.”

Blue’s paused in his attempts to get him off the booth by the sudden tears in Jackie’s eyes. His brother is leaning over his empty plate, hands shaking.

“I have nightmares every night, so sometimes I just don’t sleep. I have to keep going for runs or else I’ll forget I’m free now. And I am scared. I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of fire from the night he set the forest alight. I’m scared of rope because I don’t want to get tied up again. I’m scared of fucking Coca-Cola because he bought me a drink the day he put me in prison and then took me out again. I feel like… I’m dying. I don’t know of what or why, but most nights I sit awake and think that - that I’m going to die soon, that I won’t live very much longer, that maybe it would be better that way.”

Blue falls back into his seat, grabbing Jackie’s hand, mouth parted.

Anonymous asked: Blue, do you think this explains your angry outbursts and your dissociative symptoms? You might be struggling with this as well, you and Jackie both. You can't say you didn't feel like a prisoner to Anti.

“I don’t… I don’t have…”

“You don’t?” asks Jackie, voice breaking. “It’s just me?”

“No,” answers Blue immediately, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to think. Fuck, he doesn’t want to do this. Doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to break down. Can’t break down! He’s fine!

“What’s dissociative?” asks Jackie weakly, turning to pull Blue’s gaze back towards him. “What’s that? You’re sick?”

“No, it means - it’s just - ”

Blue glances desperately at Bowlan, but the doctor seems to have decided to let him wade this one out on his own.

“Just some body issues,” manages Blue.

“Cause of how Anti used you?”

Fuck, no, no, now Blue’s eyes are burning too. He buries his face in his hands, breathing unsteadily.

“Yeah, Rose, sure. Cause of how Anti… yeah.”

“You are angry, Azul,” adds Jackie softly, wiping at his face. “You’re as angry as I am, you just pretend you’re not til you snap.”

Blue’s so tired. Down to the heart of him. He slumps back in the booth, exhausted, ugly, worn through to brittle bone.

“I just… need to make up for the fact that I let you all get into this mess in the first place,” he says finally. “Marvin should have done that. I guess I’m more angry at him than anyone else. But it comes out on everyone.”

“Are you experiencing dissociation?” asks Dr. Bowlan.

“It’s a long story,” says Blue quietly. “Just hard to feel like you own your own body after what I’ve been through.”

It’s Jackie turn to hold his hand. Familiar, torn-up gloves curl around Blue’s palm. And they’re still leaning towards each other. Still united against whatever.

“Sorry,” sighs Blue.

“Don’t have to be sorry,” answers Bowlan mildly.

“The truth is he was a fucked up person,” says Jackie, still watching his twin. “Anti was. And he got us into a lot of fucked up shit. We can’t go back to America. We want to get back to England where Kayden grew up, but we’re broke in more ways than one. We… we kind of…”

“We need help,” finishes Blue after a moment.

Their hands are bound together.

“Yeah,” says Jackie. “Yeah, I think we need a lot of help.”

It’s making him cry. Blue loves him for admitting it. Loves him for sitting here with him and holding his hand. Fuck, he is lucky to have siblings like this. Jackie is powerful in a way Blue can’t even comprehend some days. He gets up and gets up and gets up again. Unstoppable.

“I have some ideas, if you’re open to them,” says Bowlan. “I’d love to help. There’s lots of people who would.”

“We can be a handful,” laughs Jackie. “We actually have two other siblings at home, and Schneep hasn’t spoken in weeks. Since Anti died. We don’t know why. I’m worried he was oxygen-deprived and just… his brain… we’re a handful.”

“Okay. I understand. Way I see it, we can take some definite steps, yeah? I’d like you all to come in for a check-up. I’d be happy to do it during my office hours, does that sound alright? Get all caught up on shots, check on everyone’s diets, everything. If it needs to be pro bono then it will be pro bono. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Jackie, unable to stop himself crying now, tears racing down his face. “Yeah, yes please.”

“And your brother who’s not been talking, I’ll set him up with our best neurologist and we’ll get a brain scan and such done. And I think the lot of you should talk to our social worker. Knows all the resources for people who are down on the luck and we can do some mental health assessments and things like that, okay?”

Blue’s just staring numbly down at his plate, overwhelmed.

“Once you have a place to live set up and Kayden’s a little healthier – ”

“It’s JJ,” Blue interrupts him shakily. “His real name… it’s JJ.”

He doesn’t know why he said it. He just felt like he needed to know. JJ. But Ryan seems to get it, just gazing at him for a moment and then nodding, falling quiet and taking a sip of his drink.

“We’ll get everything all set up, okay?” he says. “It’ll take time and effort and there will probably be a lot of follow-up treatment and such. But we’ll do whatever we can to get it done. I just want you to stay in touch with us a little, how’s that? If I can’t see you regularly, or at least Kayden, then I will have to call Adult Protective Services.”

“No, I understand,” chokes Jackie. “I’d be happy to… to stay in touch. To have someone… to not be…”

To not be alone in all this. To not feel so lost and helpless. To not have to hide everything from everyone. For once. For once.

It’s like running in the forest for the first time again.

Jackie wants to thank him, but he doesn’t even know how to start.

“Is there anything else you need? Is there anything I can do?”

Anonymous asked: Holy shit, Chase are you okay?! We forgot to tell you in this timeline- We had a message from Anti he left on the cameras. He said he did something to Dok, left scars that won't soon fade. We suspected it was something magical.

Chase groans, turning over on his side.

“Ow,” he mutters. “Oh, shit, what - ?”

He jolts upright, cheeks flushed pink, and shoves you rapidly away.

“No, we’re good, we’re good, I’m good,” he chokes, staggering to his feet, one hand still on his head. “No, I’m okay, I…”

His voice shakes and then gives out, and he’s curled in on himself over the coffee table, sobbing in earnest.

“Will you please tell someone to come back?” he cries. “I need a break, I need a break! I don’t even remember half the time anymore, I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t remember how to get to the hospital. I don’t want to be alone with whatever’s left of him right now, fuck! He’s still in my head… he’s still, I’m just…”

Henrik, a little tense himself, nonetheless scoots over towards Chase, looking at him, hands faintly outstretched. Chase grips his hands and cries over him, squeezing at his palms. “That wasn’t you, right, Dok? That wasn’t you. I’m sorry I can’t pull either of us out of this. I’m sorry.”

Anonymous asked: Chase, amata, sunshine. You are doing every single thing you can. Don't talk about "not being able to pull you out." That is not your job, you aren't reclused to being a savior just because your brothers are hurting. Look at you, man. You're hurting too. You're in just as much pain as the others. Work together to make things feel better, don't isolate yourself. Your brothers can help with the memory issues and pain, and you can work to make it easier on both you and Henrik. Things will work out.

“I can’t be in pain, it’s his turn, we have to take shifts…”

The nonsense of his perspective has been buried over a long history of taking turns taking care of each other. He hugs Henrik to his chest, burying his face in his shoulder, and Henrik sits there like a cat which has not yet decided how it feels about hugs.

“I think something’s wrong with me,” whimpers Chase. “I keep getting so confused and dizzy.”

Henrik hugs him back a little. He stills and hides in his twin’s shoulder, relieved.

“I’m sorry I’m crying, Deutsch, I’m here…”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, Blue, one of you might need to get home. Chase and Henrik aren't having a good time. Some freaky shit like hypnotism just happened between the two of them. Chase really needs a break to rest.

“Shit,” Blue curses, getting to his feet. “Um, Jackie, is it good if I - ”

“Yeah, go, I’ll stay with JJ. And I’ll call to get us into a hotel tonight.”

“Oh, thank God. Okay, I’m heading home. Doctor Bowlan, listen - ”

The old man smiles patiently at him, raising his eyebrows.

“Um, thank you,” Blue stutters.

“Get some sandwiches for your brothers,” offers the doctor, handing him a few bills. “I’m guessing they’re as thin as you are.”

Blue can’t help but smile, clutching the bills and turning to race away.

“My Schneep’s probably like you when he’s feeling well,” says Jackie, scooping up the last of his chips. “Like a cool doctor, you know? And rich.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

#book five

4 notes · View notes

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 years

Text

Scared to Death: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"He who controls others may be powerful but he who has mastered himself is mightier still." - Philosopher Lao Tzu

The first thing you smelled when you woke up was smoke. The first thing you felt was the intense heat from the fire. The first thing you saw was the flames. The first thing you heard was the fire alarm going off. You shot out of bed and covered your mouth, your panic levels shooting for the stars. The smoke seeps into your room haphazardly because your door is open.

Why is it open? You remember closing it last night. You hate sleeping with your door open.

There isn't any time to think about this right now. You have to get out. You have to make it out alive so you can figure out who the hell did this to you. The only three things you grab are your phone, your gun, and your badge. Everything else is replaceable. There is no way you can leave through your living room because there is a wall of flames preventing you from leaving that way.

"Shit," you cough.

Your eyes are watering from the smoke, but you have to get out of here. You rush back into your room and pry the window open, sticking your head out and taking in a lungful of clean air.

"FIRE! Fire!!!" you yell into the night.

Studies have shown that people are more likely to ignore a call for help, but they'll help if they hear the word 'fire'. There are already people on the street watching the flames overtake your apartment, and as soon as they see you, they gasp in fear for your life.

"Call for help!" you cry out to them, already seeing some of them on the phone.

You take out your own and dial the one person who you know will answer.

"You're up early," Spencer answers with a chuckle.

"Spencer, I need help," you cough violently. "There's a fire. Someone set a fire here!"

"What? You're breaking up. Did you say there is a fire?"

"Spencer? I can't hear you."

You pull the phone away to see the screen, but the call disconnects. You stick your head out the window and look down to determine if it's possible for you to jump out. You're on the third floor, and you know that if you do jump, you're going to break a few bones at best.

"Fuck," you whisper.

The smoke is getting too thick to see out of, but maybe if you concentrate hard enough, you might be able to see who did this. Fire is a bit tricky with your abilities because it loves to burn, and the same goes for energies. If arson happens, you'll have a much harder time seeing who did it rather than murder or another type of crime. However, if it's a mass fire where it can be considered genocide or mass murder, then you might be able to get something since the energy is at a high count.

The window being open helps, but the smoke is becoming too much for your body to handle. You really hope there isn't permanent damage to your lungs or throat from how much you're inhaling this smoke. Luckily, you don't have to breathe it in for long because you can see the lights and hear the sirens from your window.

The fire department shows up quickly and jumps into action even faster. Since you're on the third story, they have to use their ladder to get you down. They have a small compartment where a few firefighters can stand on as they raise the ladder to you, and you know they are going to make room for you. Most of the firemen run through the building's front door so they can tackle the fire from that side. All, if not everyone, is already out of the building in their pajamas since it is barely dawn.

"You're safe now. We got you," one of them says to you.

You cough and reach out for them, letting them drag you through the window effortlessly.

"I'm an FBI agent, and I have my gun on me. I also have my badge. I only grabbed those two and my phone. Everything else is still left inside," you take a lungful of fresh air.

"It's alright, ma'am. You're safe now."

The ladder lowers to the ground, and as soon as your feet hit the asphalt, the paramedics come to your aid. They need to check you out to make sure you don't have any damage from the smoke inhalation.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Spencer asks with a pant.

"I'm fine, Spencer. Did you run here?"

"I heard the word fire. I came as quickly as I could."

"Open wide for me," the paramedic says to you.

You open your mouth for him as he shines a light in your mouth to see the back of your throat. He wants to make sure there is no smoke damage because if there is, then you could die from your throat swelling.

"Not a lot of damage. Though, I encourage you to go to the doctor for some medicine. Do you need a ride to the hospital?"

"No, I'm okay."

"What? You should go," Spencer says.

"No, I'm fine. I need to catch the son of a bitch who did this."

Spencer must have called the rest of the team since three police cars came rushing onto the scene. The rest of your team exit through the doors and approach you with concerned looks on their faces.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay?" Derek asks.

"I'm fine. I don't know what happened. I was sleeping just fine, and I woke up to my place in flames. Someone must have broken into my place in the middle of the night."

"I should have been there for you," Spencer puts the blame on himself.

"You couldn't have known. I didn't even know. You wanted to check on Gideon. Is he okay?"

"All he left is a note for me," he says sadly.

There is time for that later, but right now, the focus is on you and your apartment.

"Is she going to be okay?" Hotch asks the paramedic.

"Yeah, she doesn't have much damage as far as I can see. I still encourage her to go to the doctor. But, as far as I can see, she's cleared to go."

"I want you to go to the hospital," Hotch says.

"I will... eventually. Hotch, I promise I will. First, I need to go to Spencer's place. I have clothes stashed there that I can use for right now. I don't think it'll be acceptable for me to wear my pajamas to work."

"Fine," Hotch nods once. "As soon as you're cleared."

The fire department talks with Hotch as they work to calm the flames. The paramedic does every test that they have available on you before clearing you to leave. Since you don't have a home anymore, you don't have to worry about going inside the place and getting anything else. Nothing survived, but it's okay since you have the three most important items.

"When they're done here, I'm coming back here to see who might have done this," you say to Spencer when you're done. "I swear it's just one shit after the next. I can't get a fucking break."

You don't really believe in all this stuff, but it seems like the universe is out to get you or something.

After taking a shower and getting a clean pair of clothes, you and Spencer both headed to work together. You don't have your car keys anymore because they melted in the fire. You're lucky to have a boyfriend and friends who can help you through this difficult time. The one person you wish was here to help you is Gideon, but it looks as if he came here when no one else was there to take the pictures of his victims that he kept on his desk. Everything else in his office is untouched, but you know he isn't coming back.

"Are you okay? I just heard what happened," Emily says when you get into work.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," you smile at her.

"Gideon left everything except the photographs," Spencer says from his office. "He always said those were like his family."

"What should we do with all of this?"

You shrug and head to the briefing room where the rest of the team is. You want to find out what happened to Gideon, but you have a case to go on, so he has to be put on the back burner.

"Okay, we have four victims in Oregon: two male and two female," JJ starts the briefing off.

"I got this," Hotch interrupts, catching her off guard.

"Uh, sure," she nods and hands over the clicker for the monitor.

"I know that we've all been wondering what this was all about. You know, I've known Jason for many years, and I can tell you I have no idea what's going on, but it doesn't even matter. What matters is we're here, and we're gonna continue. Portland field office uncovered a mass grave with three bodies that were killed six months ago. Nearby, they found another body. Causes of death range from burning alive to asphyxiation. No sexual assault."

"The lack of sexual preferences could make it hard to tell if the unsub is male or female," Spencer says.

"Typically, female serial killers stick to the same MO. It looks like this guy's all over the place."

"The most recent victim is Jenny Wittman. She died of asphyxiation, and she was discovered yesterday."

"How long was she missing for?" you wonder.

"She was never reported missing."

"What about the others?"

"Only one. Rick Holland was reported missing nine months ago, but the search was called off."

"Only one of four?" Spencer asks, confused.

"The family discovered his car at the train station. More importantly, they received emails from him saying that he needed time to figure things out."

"His family bought that?"

"Well, I guess the alternative was too hard to accept."

"Reaching out could be a sign of remorse."

"Psychopaths don't apologize for their behavior. This guy's covering his tracks," Hotch says.

"Three victims he buried in one grave and then only Jenny Wittman in the other," Emily thinks out loud.

"You think it's a pattern?"

"It's hard to tell."

"Wheels up in thirty. Y/N, can I see you for a second?" Hotch asks. The rest of the team packs up their things and leaves the briefing room until it's only you and Hotch. "Look, I know you want to work and to help, but you should really go to a hospital to get checked out."

"If you make wheels up in forty, I can be back here in time for takeoff."

"Fine," he nods. You grab your things and head to the door when he stops you. "Do you have somewhere to stay in the meantime?"

"I'll figure it out, sir."

You don't have anywhere to stay right now, but you're going to have to grab a hotel room for the time being. You're not sure who is going to pay for it, but you'll manage.

"If you need any help, you're more than welcome to come to me."

"I appreciate it, sir."

You could ask Spencer if you could spend the night a few times, but you don't want to bother him with this. Yes, he's your boyfriend, and you have shit over at his place, but spending the night and moving in are two different things. You have no clue when your place will be renovated, and you haven't had the "moving in" talk yet with each other.

It's bound to come up now that you don't have a place, but until it does, you're probably going to stay in a hotel room.

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dutyworn · 6 months

Text

@parameddic said: 🤤 or ’paralyze’ // sender paralyzes receiver for torture. / uuuuuuh maybe not for torture but wren ft. being injected with paralytic/something and left to burn to death in a fire bc she’s been investigating too hard or. annoyed someone. idk. paralysed wren and tk going "where’s wren?" and marjan insISTIng on going back in to look for her and several of the team getting injured in an extraction effort and probably it’s overall owen’s fault somehow that this transpired (aggravating arsonists at random, dating murderers, etc). i have not thought very hard

VIOLENT RP PROMPTS / ACCEPTING ↷

It jolts her system with adrenaline, first (the pinprick of the dart, her body instantly reacting with the readiness to fight), but by the time Wren presses her hand to her neck, fumbling to pull the needle out, her body’s already harder to coordinate.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck... Someone shooting sedative darts at her? In no world does that mean anything good for her wellbeing.

She stumbles, hands shaking as she tries to get her phone out of her pocket. Can’t get a grip of it. Ends up on her hands and knees on the concrete floor. But her mind is alert. She... It’s not a sedative, it’s a fucking paralytic. That somehow scares her more. This isn’t like being caught in a stasis field, where she could still feel her muscles trying to fight against it, if she wanted to, even if movement was impossible. No, it’s rendering her helpless beyond that, where she can’t... can’t even feel like she’s struggling. Trying to will her body to move, to instinctively crawl towards the exit, a few feet is all she manages before she’s helpless, useless, on the floor, on her belly, head turned to the side, one arm positioned ahead in a still image of her desperate attempt to crawl out.

She should’ve been more careful. Shouldn’t have gone to investigate alone. But the arsons... Someone had to do something, people had died, and the lack of evidence... Fuck, what is this, a kidnapping? She did mention to Marjan she was thinking about poking around on her day off, but in a vague enough way as to not cause concern. Maybe, still... She’s not working today, but she hangs out on the station so often on her free days, maybe... maybe they’ll note that it’s odd she’s not around? And then realise where she must’ve gone. Fuck, if she could move. Do something. Leave something of hers behind, if she’s about to get grabbed. Leave them a lead.

There’s footsteps, after what feels like way too long a time. Gods, she hates not being able to defend herself. Can’t even turn her head to look...

But the footsteps... they stop briefly near her (every cell in her body screams for her to fight), then... walk by.

What the shit?

Why are they leaving her here? Is the paralytic supposed to kill her? She can breathe fine, though, for... for now, at least.

Then, the fast noise gasoline makes when it catches fire.

Now she panics; tries to cry out on instinct, but barely any sound comes out. The heat doesn’t reach her instantly, but the smoke quickly does, watering her eyes, yet she can’t even cough, can’t try to cover her airways.

#parameddic #mmmmm good whump #; the winter pretends it's mild and holds her ❪ verse / crossover. ❫#; tk strand & wren shepard ❪ parameddic / connection. ❫#; parameddic / 010 #drugs cw #uhhh #needles cw #injection cw #fire cw

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ironwoodprotectionsquad · 1 year

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What gets me about the whole Ruby chopping the tail thing is that Adam severing her sister's appendage is used as an indicator that he's the Evilest Evil to Ever Evil in both the show and fandom (until Ironwood of course /s), but Ruby severing Tyrian's appendage is seen as Cool and Edgy and Badass.

The argument is that technically the two moments are very different in one Adam, the one who cut off Yangs arm, instigated the violence while with Ruby, Tyrian instigated the violence. But in terms of how Ruby should feel about what happened that is irrelevant. We want people who are in positions of power like Ruby to care about people, we want to hold them to a higher moral standard because they claim to be hero’s implying they hold themselves to a higher moral code. Then violating that moral code should have some sort of impact on them, regardless of if it was justified or necessary because that’s how people work. They feel things even if their is no good reason to because that’s just how emotions and trauma work.

But back to the point, the double standard for something like cutting off a limb is extremely jarring because doing something like that feels far more violent the killing a soulless monster. The Grimm can’t be reasoned with so killing them is truly the only option. With Ruby she doesn’t even pause to second guess the choice to permanently maim another human being. It doesn’t matter if she was justified or not. Any reasonable person with any sense of empathy would question the decision because their is no going back from that. And CRWBY trying to pass off that act as cool and badass is disturbing. Maiming someone should never be portrayed as cool and badass because it can trivialize the act that is happening.

I know NCIS isn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination but it’s the example that popped into my head, two episodes specifically. One episode is one where Abby finds herself in basically a hostage situation where the group breaking in plans to kill everyone in the building. While in this situation Abby grapples with what she should do to fight back and at one point is given the chance to hurt and potentially kill the group that is holding everyone hostage but she can’t bring herself to do so because it breaks her moral codes. The other is one where the group is escorting some high level person and McGee noticed something odd going down with someone talking to someone in an unmarked vehicle and goes to investigate. He hears a gunshot and fires and the the person standing outside the car dies. He later finds out the person he shot was an undercover cop that was investigating the vehicle and the gunshot he heard was the cop being shot by the person inside the vehicle and starts grappling with himself on what he could have done differently and when he and his boss get ambushed by the shooter he hesitates to shoot for fear of accidentally hurting an innocent person again. I bring up these examples because even though in both instances the characters where justified in what they did, they still grappled and struggled with what they should do or what they did do.

RWBY however refuses to allow the character to feel and grapple with the choices they make and what they’re forced to do to survive. They just bulldoze forward with no regard for the harm they cause and if their was anything they could do to avoid what happened and that makes for heroes that don’t feel very heroic.

#rwde #RWBY critical #team rwby critical #RWBY critique

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shortdalee · 2 years

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Itching for a strong female character who isn’t traditionally masculine the way a lot of writers shoot for when making their “strong” female characters, only to instead come off sexist? How about a story with an arranged marriage premise?

If you’ve answered yes, check out Raise wa Tanin ga Ii:

MangaDex

❗This manga features yakuza, so there’ll be violence and (mostly off-screen) torture. It’s not super graphic, but it’s there, and you will see it. You’ll also see what is technically child abuse and the typical kind of violence that comes with... not slapstick comedy, but when you slap someone upside the head (is that slapstick comedy?). That kind of casual violence. There are also talks of selling organs, prostitution, and drugs and a couple of chapters featuring the protagonist Yoshino’s cousin who is apparently in love with their grandfather, which I suppose is technically incest, but nothing comes of it.❗

Yoshino is weak. She’s at most average in terms of physical strength and fighting capability, but compared to the men in her life, she’s very definitely weak. However, her mental strength is off the charts. As psychopathic and violently capable as her fiancé is, she’s gotten him head over heels for her, and much as she’s wary of him and admits to being scared, she’s also fearless and, I feel, matches up to him pretty well. She’s a yakuza’s granddaughter, and it shows.

More importantly, her mental strength isn’t her only trait. She’s decently fleshed out, which many authors fail at and so fail at the whole “strong female character” bit. She’s a little slow, a little silly, feminine, loves food, and having grown up in a yakuza household, she’s not faint-hearted at the thought of blood or violence. She may not want to deal with it (but more in a “it’s bothersome”/“I don’t want to deal with it” kind of way, I feel like, rather than an excuse), but she’s not necessarily adverse to it.

In general, I like her relationships the people in her lives. There’s Shouma, her childhood friend who’s lived with her since she was younger (I don’t think they’re foster siblings, I don’t remember their relationship ever being defined like that, only that her grandfather took custody/guardianship over him). Shouma gives off definite aspec vibes, in my opinion, and I can totally see their relationship being queerplatonic.

Then of course, there’s her fiancé, Kirishima, whom Shouma hates and vice versa. Kirishima’s a (sado?)masochistic psychopath with definitely a few several screws loose. At first, he didn’t think much of Yoshino, but then she showed her own yakuza side, after which he became obsessed with her. It’s very much one-sided, however, which I appreciate because:

Yoshino has no reason to like him after how they started, and quite frankly, I’m tired of authors very painfully obviously setting up guys, and especially guys like him, as the love interest. We know he’s the love interest because they’re technically engaged, and he’s obsessed enough with her to make the marriage happen. It’s up to him now to convince her to agree.

She’s rightfully very wary and occasionally scared of him, but she’s also pissed. She seriously does not like him after he showed his true colors, and it would make no sense for her to go changing her tune just because he, in his own words, fell in love with her.

And lastly (in this list) is the cousin I mentioned above, Tsubaki. She’s just as much a yakuza’s granddaughter as Yoshino is, though I think it shows differently with her. She’s not a carbon copy of Yoshino, and she’s visibly very feminine, which you don’t often see with strong female characters. For all that I dislike how she’s apparently in love with her grandfather, she never actually pursues it, and she’s very attached to Yoshino as a result (Yoshino reminds her of their grandfather, though I get the sense that that’s not the only reason she likes Yoshino). She’s protective of Yoshino, can (verbally) go toe-to-toe against Kirishima and is never shown to be afraid of him, and she’s a little NSFW. She feels pretty rounded out to me, especially for a side character.

Overall, I like how Yoshino’s physically weak, can’t fight for crap, but can still hold her own in her own way against the men in her life who can fight and fight well. She refuses to be sidelined, and while those same men try, she won’t be shielded from the bloodier side of her family’s associations and business. If she isn’t fighting with you, she’ll be there fronting the cash (that she’d been preparing in anticipation of needing it) to clean up the bodies you leave behind (please note, this is not an example I came up with, she literally was prepared to front the cash to dispose of bodies).

#Recs #Raise wa Tanin ga Ii

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moosecow · 1 year

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Yeah, apparently, no on agrees with me on this, but…I’m done. I can already see the trajectory that TLOU HBO is going.

First they straight up, NERF, Tess’s character. This was a woman that was so terrifying that she can get people to stand down just by walking up to them. This was a woman that held her cool, knew the terror of the world, and choose to go out GUNS BLAZING, in the game. This was the character that saved your ass in the early stages of the story. This was a battle hardened woman, one that Joel respected, even if he was too broken to admit that he had feelings for her.

And what did the HBO series do? Nothing. Tess does nothing. She doesn’t shoot a guy in the head, no mercy, because he stole their guns. In the tunnels, in HBO TLOU’s first episode, she acts as though she’s never seen an infected before. Doesn’t this woman repeatedly go outside to smuggle goods? When it’s her turn to die, she freezes. SHE’S LITERALLY SURROUNDED BY WEAPONS and instead of picking up some grenades, blasting, shooting, fighting back. She freezes.

This is the woman who, in the game, in her dying moments, told Joel that she will NOT ever turn into one of those things. She was afraid, but she went to death like the warrior she was.

In the HBO series? She just stands still. Are you kidding me? She bosses Joel around sure, but there aren’t any moments that show us how badass and straight up TERRIFYING she is. Sure Robert is afraid of her, but we never get to see why. We never get to see her shooting skills, her battle worn ruthlessness, her fighting back against the infected (except for that one scene where it quickly flashes back to Joel and Ellie).

And the GODDAMN DISRESPECT! That infected kiss, was absolutely unnecessary. That isn’t a PEACEFUL death. My ass. That’s a woman, absolutely terrified, getting assaulted right before she dies. That’s not Tess. Game Tess would never have put up with that shit. And it’s such sexist shit! It didn’t gross me out, it didn’t make the infected anymore terrifying then they already area. We already had enough examples of how horrible they were.

All that scene did was piss me off. I can understand shortening the story, I can understand nerfing Tess and not allowing her to shine because of time constraints. But that kiss scene, was nothing more then creepy male gaze further reducing Tess to no more then a one note sacrifice to further Joel’s development. If Tess were a male character, she would NOT have been treated that way. She would have been be ripped apart after making a grand last stand. I would have preferred if she were ripped apart. THAT would have been terrifying. To know that the infected would still violently maul someone, even if they’re calm, or already one of them.

This scene, basically tells me that TLOU HBO is getting the hollywood treatment. Where they DON’T know how to write women, or make compelling drama without relying on shock factor (which to me is a lazy way to get your audience to care).

I’m done. I already had nitpicks with the series, like the lack of spores, how some of the acting is not as good as in the game, Ellie and Marlene not being familiar with each other, but unnecessary, sexual assault of a woman on screen, for no more then the shock factor, is a deal breaker for me.

And yeah, I know Neil Druckman is one of the primary show runners of The Last of Us, HBO, but newsflash, every author has their bad creative decisions. If you enjoy this show. GREAT! I am sincerely happy for you. But I was under the impression that the Last of Us, treated its female characters with respect.

#the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou tess

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