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redsparko · 2 months

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I’ve come back for another Rina Kent thoughtly rant. Now disclaimer, when I make these rants, it’s not me shitting on Rina Kent. I ate up all 34 of the books in a MONTH. Do you understand how many books a day I had to read? I don’t but all I know is that they FED me in a time that I needed to feast.

But as a fellow writer and one who identifies with this area of writing and reading, I must pull through and in the hopes that the continuous talking and revelation about these things will help improve the writing in dark romance.

This rant is not just about Rina Kent, but can be applied to every other dark romance book or romance in general (considering that they’re all pretty similar).

We’re going to be talking about. Female relationships. Rina Kent being the butt end of this rant, sorry to y’all. I haven’t read much romance books or any other dark romance books so I have nothing else to recall from besides the Twisted and Kings of Sin series by Ana Huang but those aren’t exactly dark romance. But can be used in this rant. It’s just that I have better examples with explanations from RK’s books because I’m more obsessed with them.

Okay so, beginning. The female relationships in RK’s books are super shallow. Especially in comparison to the male friendships. Like, look at Cole and Aiden from the RES. They’ve got the parallels sort of dynamics. Cole is a borderline sociopath/psychopath just as Aiden is except he’s more secretive about it and Aiden is the literal embodiment of being an asshole on the outside. They have a compelling hate relationship and yet maintain a friendship (begrudgingly). Like, hell, they’ve got interactions that show off their dynamics that even go up decades when their kids are full grown (EliAva).

While the female relationships there is nothing to be really said. Like, Elsa and Kimberly. Yeah, they’re friends. Yeah, they be there for each other. Yeah. That’s it. Literally. That’s it. Maybe it’s just me and the need to always have chaos and shit but like. This is a story, isn’t having chaos bringing in more depth to the story? Making it more interesting? Problems in things make the things MORE COMPELLING.

Silver and Elsa’s whole shtick was so so good, but portrayed terribly juvenile. It’s not the worst thing so don’t come jumping to rip off my dick but I’m saying they had a lot of potential to be better friends than Kimberly, and Elsa cause. Imagine your enemy, not enemy, but someone who makes life hard for you, and you see them for their humanness and what they truly are. You guys may hate each other or despise each other but you see them less as someone to hate and more as someone to understand. Perhaps through this understanding you can find friendship.

Teal and Silver’s whole thing was interesting to. That I can justify and say that was done right to its best ability. Like, Silver and Teal using each other’s love interests for their own purposes? Sign me up, use me too.

Either way, Kimberly and Elsa are dry, maybe that’s all they are. Idk, perhaps to add more depth to their friendship we could have Kimberly being jealous and admiring Elsa for her boldness early on, and then acting differently to try and imitate her later on when she rid of her fat but not her insecurity. While we have Elsa out here, worrying for Kimberly, pointing out all the things she’s doing not as bold but as dangerous and toxic to herself and those she could possibly get in danger. Then Kimberly could claim Elsa is jealous etc etc, make the situation ugly and complicated. It won’t kill you but when the girls resolve it, trust me, their friendship and bond is stronger.

And if I hear people coming to me and being like “tHiS iS a RoMANCe GenRE nOT a SlIcE of LiFe or FrIENDshIp GenRe” THEN TELL ME WHY THE MALE RELATIONSHIPS ARE SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING. WHY HAVE ROOM FOR THAT BUT NOT THE GIRLS?????

Cecily and Ava are fine, I can eat that. There’s underlying problems there waiting to wake up I just need them to be done well.

Ava and Annika’s issues were *chefs kiss* delicious. Ava threatening Annika because of Creighton. Ava blatantly showing her bias and side, basically saying she would choose Creighton over Annika if it ever came to. I loved that. I loved it so much I ATE IT. But I just wish we got to see more of it, the after effects of it. I don’t remember if they ever did but I wanted to see and read about the apology, and the sentiments of Ava to Annika and Annika to Ava. Would it be so hard? If we got to see Ava explaining her side to Annika and yet apologizing because it was brash and stupid to throw away her friendship because Creighton was also in the wrong for doing that to Annika? Yet Annika also being sorry and understanding of why Ava cares so much.

I’m saying it rn Book of Pain is my least favorite of the five. Another rant coming on that next time. Stay tuned.

Then there’s the giant ass glaring hole that is Glyndon King. Miss Girl never talks to her friends in her book. The Foursome was a lie, it’s a threesome considering the fact she’s NEVER THERE. Like I know these books are romance based but JESUS, can we also have some more complicated and depth into the other aspects of a dark romance based story? Would it not make the romance more delicious?

I know she’s introverted but at this point like… girl being introverted is your only personality trait. Which makes me so sad because GOM was one of my favorites and Glyndon is one of my favorites.

Mia and Maya had a good relationship, I say, the only thing to improve was the portrayal of it. I like their deep rooted and twin connection. Maya is a bitch but she’s Mia’s bitch. She’s family so Mia loves her because of it, despite all of Maya’s glaring flaws. Then it all falls apart when Mia finds out the secret. Isn’t that delicious? I mean a confusing betrayal sure. Like I don’t get why Mia was mad at Maya for being the cause of her trauma and muteness, I mean, wouldn’t it make more sense for her to want to find out why too? Mia is less emotional more methodical but still emotional especially when it comes to Landon but we can use that explanation for the other girls too which will come up in a rant about poor writing of characters.

Back to Mia and Maya, their relationship is good. It’s got the ups and downs and if only we got to see the downs through it but eh, I’ll take what I can get.

#maya sokolov #rina kent #god of malice #god of pain #legacy of gods #mia sokolov #glyndon king #twisted love #twisted lies #twisted hate #twisted games #dark romance #romance #roman empire #this is the pinnacle of my peak of my tolerance for shallow writing I want more for us

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taylors-fourth-cat-meow · 2 years

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You something else i hate about Acotar?

Its the way family is portrayed.

Weather it be the IC dynamic or the Archeron family dynamic its just so fcking messed up!

Both the families revolve around one person (Rhys and Feyre) and the characters are judged based on how they treat/talk to that person. They are defined and labelled 'good', 'bland' and 'evil' with respect to that one character. Lets look at the IC first then we'll get to the Archeron family.

Mor is a girl boss, and "loves freely". She can tell Nesta, a traumatised child in comparison to her that she deserves to be sent to a torture prison from which she escaped and that can be justified by saying she is "protective over her family".

Now, I personally fcking hate Mor. And i also know that her being queer is a retcon but fck! it says so much about her relationship with her so called family. After 500 years she still doesn't feel comfortable coming out to them? Now thats saying a lot.

In acosf, Amren, Cassian, Mor almost everyone treat Cassian like absolute shit. He is their brother yet Azriel says that Elain should not be out in danger but its perfectly ok to put his brothers mate in danger? Amren totally treats Cassian like some jock whose acting out again cause he wants his dick in some bitch. Mor, don't even get me started on that dipshit. If she supposedly loves freely, she wud actually think about how it must hurt those she cares (feyre and Cassian) about because of the way she treats someone they care about (Nesta). Like the way the entire IC treat Cassian like absolute shit throughout the entire book. Force him to watch as they slut shame his mate, force him to watch as they put her in dangerous situations, force him to watch as she is kidnapped into a dangerous rite that can get her killed, force him to watch as the force her to seduce another man?

AND RHYSAND.

He legit treats Cassian like he is nothing more than his dog. He is a fcking general of the armies yet he treats him like he is a dumb hunk who needs to improve himself to be of any use? what was even the part of making him play courtier? who gave rhysie the right to "test" cassian? This is not the relationship between two brothers who are equals. This is fcking toxic if not downright abusive.

Also with the Azriel bonus chp. Instead of understanding and consoling how his brother, who feels left out (rightly so) and calling him out on his fck boy behaviour towards his sister in law, he just orders him around and pulls out his HL status.

And then with Mor, inviting her abusers into her safe place (Velaris), making deals with her ex-fiance who was the cause of said trauma, ( I highly doubt she's saying the full/true story bout that) that involves Eris to visit frequently. All this without her knowledge. He invalidates her? No wonder she doesn't feel comfortable coming out to them even after 500 years.

Now one could argue that Azriel and Casshole are brothers. And uk what yeah to some extent I wud agree with u. The only brotherly love shown is between those two. And uk why? Because the power dynamic is equal. They are both ostracised bastards. They are both powerfull Illariyans. They both hold High Positions in the NC. But Rhysand on the other hand? He literally pulls out his HL status all the time. He uses his power over his family members. It's doesn't matter that he doesn't like doing that. He still does it.

Mor, Azriel and Cassian all came from fcked up backgrounds but they didn't find love and acceptance among each other. No they found it in Rhysand. Their position, power and family only exists because of Rhysand. Because he deemed them worthy of being his family. And that gives him power over them. Which ultimately makes the whole concept of family fall apart.

I mean thats not the Inncer Circle, its the Rhysand Worship Circle.

#anti sjm #anti acotar #anti rhysand #anti inner circle #anti acosf #anti mor #anti cassian

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cosmereplay · 9 months

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Shallan/Kaladin/Adolin?

I could literally talk about these three for hours but ultimately what compels me about them is that I can see myself in all three of them. They are my top three Stormlight characters for that reason! So shipping them is like doing a little internal systems therapy with a fuck bonus lmao

But yeah, like I can be an Adolin in that I am privileged in significant ways, and I sometimes hold back my own feelings to my own detriment. I can be like Shallan in that I have thrown myself into dangerous situations without really thinking about the consequences; also I have memory issues (different than her but relatable) and it makes my sense of self slippery at times. I can be like Kaladin in that I'm better at standing up for others than myself, and I accidentally put myself in positions of leadership as a way of isolating myself.

There are also ways I look up to all three - Adolin's determination at improving his skillset and not worrying about knowing everything under the sun; Shallan's improv skills and her ability to help people see the best in themselves; Kaladin's physical prowess. And all of them have the ability to push through very difficult dark situations.

You'd probably see all those themes in Fumbling Towards Ecstasy and woven throughout other Shakadolin fics I've written.

Do you do the same with certain ships? I'd be interested in hearing from anyone who ships characters as a way of sorting out different parts of themselves.

And feel free to ask more questions about Shakadolin, this is just one point among many I could talk about 😅

#ask answered #ask games #shipping #rhythm of war

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vonkarma2 · 2 years

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1 Jacinto, 8 Rocio, 11 Cirillo, 32 Victor, 15 Salem?

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

I would say around 6 hours. They don’t need to be entertained basically at all and they typically don’t have much energy anyway. The problem is less so boredom rather than trying to stave off thoughts of deep dissatisfaction and despair. Usually they can ignore it but sometimes if they’re alone for too long that becomes impossible so they need to do something to get their mind off of it. Usually that thing is drinking or just like going for a walk in the town bc they have nothing else to do either. They’ve been considering moving out of Florecía for a while but they don’t know if that would make things worse or like be worth it, and they don’t have any specific place in mind.

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

Really depends on the situation, usually if he doesn’t think the other person will mind he’ll just ask bc he hates being unsure of things and also bc like why not. But if the other person seems annoyed or would judge him or something he’ll go on context clues instead and speak extremely vaguely so that it doesn’t become clear he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

He does sadly have very few opportunities for conversation throughout his life, he was usually either alone or in a terrible situation that he could not leave, so basically he’d just do whatever was asked of him and almost never speak out of turn. But for the purposes of this question let’s fast forward like 5 years. Now he’s doing way better. He has to explain to people like how he as a demon is living in the overworld though like it comes up pretty often. So I think he’d retell the story of like how he escaped the coliseum type place with Angel pretty often bc he actually considers it a good memory even though it was kind of dangerous he honestly doesn’t remember that part so much, he more so remembers how it was the first time he actually felt like he had escaped and he was going to be ok. Obviously he doesn’t say that part. He’s just like yeah this is what happened and so I’ve been living here for X amount of years now.

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Depends on who she’s talking to she literally lies constantly, like more often than she tells the truth I would say. So she might not rehearse exactly what she’d say but she definitely has like some lies prepared like if they find out about this I’ll say this type thing. It’s mostly improv lying though 😋 unless if she’s talking to a large group of people in which case she might actually rehearse everything she says. But if she’s talking to someone she trusts then she does tell the truth and doesn’t practice at all she says things really impulsively. If she was telling you the truth abt something emotional then you could tell it was true like she kind of makes less sense when she talks and she like repeats things, sometimes she has to hold herself back from crying, etc. It would make everything she’s said before sound really practiced by comparison.

#the last two ones on this are a bit depressing but it’s ok.#Actually so is the first one #Cirillo our only semi-light in the darkness #This makes the whole story sound so dramatic it is not #Ok it is tbh it’s just that the characters in my perception of them are just like hanging out #even though sadly there is little to no hanging #out in the actual story 😔#it is very pro mundane life though #when I actually finish it I will also write an incredibly boring slice of life sequel. lucia does her tax return forms #Anyway thanks for asking :)#my ocs #Also I love posting oc lore w/0 context like wdym the coliseum no one will know what any of this means. You have to infer

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little-birdseeker · 3 hours

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Growing Wings - Ch.5 - About Intentions

[<- Chapter 4: Knives are evil!]

“R’naaamo!”, Isabelle yelled from the other side of the room, running towards her mentor and chosen friend, with Jonathan following her slowly. With every passing day, he looked less done after the knife lessons with Isabelle, but continued to be just… tired, in a way, especially after the knife lessons. Isabelle had already asked him if he slept enough, and he insisted he very much did so, but she was not sure. Was he lieing? Perhaps! She should check that out later, for sure! But for now…

“Ah, there you are, Isa. And hey John.” R’namo greeted them both with a friendly smile, and gave the Hyur some back pats. “Come on Jon, smile a bit! Can’t be that bad, can it?”

“As if you’d know…”

“Hm, whaaat is not toooo bad?”, interrupted the curious and rather high pitched voice of Isabelle both of the rogues.

“Ah, nothing, Isa, nothing”, R’namo laughed and slapped Jonathans back again, who did not look too happy about the situation he found himself in. But he kept silent as well, and thus left Isabelle wondering what they might have meant.

“So, are you ready? I planned to take a tour through the city today, so follow me closely and do not get distracted by anything, okay?” Isabelle noticed the stern look of her mentor and started nodding. She had to focus! As much as she could! Which… wasn’t a lot to begin with, to be frank, but she was improving a lot with every day.

“Oh and Jon… what do you think? With weapons?”

“She is good enough with them now, I think. And you know how it is.”

“Yeah… better safe than sorry, right?”

“Hmmm? Weeeapons?”, Isabelle asked. What were they talking about? The knives? Certainly the knives! But wasn’t the training today enough?

“Yeah, Isa, the knives”, R’namo started to explain. “When we go out there, we better have some with us. We are rogues, after all, and who knows what might happen today. So we are better off with them than without. You have them with you, Jon?”

The hyur nodded in response. Isabelle had just given them to him, so currently they remained in his hands, as R’namo had earlier mentioned that she might need them later.

With some hesitation, Isabelle took them up again. “Do we… do we neeed them…?”, she asked with some hesitation. It wasn’t that dangerous outside, was it?!

“Ah, no, probably not”, R’namo answered after she gave it some thought. “But as I said, I would rather have some with me than needing them after leaving them here. But on that matter: do you think it would be a good idea to carry them like that?”

“Hm? Is something wrooong with them?” What did R’namo mean? The knives were dangling from her belt, like she had done it all the time! And R’namo was carrying them in the very same way with her, so there could hardly be an issue!

“Wouldn’t say it’s wrong”, Jonathan responded. “But eh…”

“No Jon, let her think, she has to learn. So Isa, there is something wrong. Can you think of any reason why?”

“Uhhh…” This was not something, Isabelle had expected. What could R’namo possibly mean?! The young cat girl took a look at R’namos weapons, then another one at the ones on her belt. No, that was definitely right! But what else…

She heared R’namo sigh. “No, they are fine, Jon taught you well on that matter, I suppose. But no, something else. Imagine we go out like this. What would you expect others think about you?”

“That I am cuuute? And, uhm… happy! Aaand…” The cat girl frowned. Something wasn’t right. She could taste it, kind of! And R’namo was still watching her, as if she hadn’t given the right answer yet. Which was promptly confirmed by a strict “Yes?” from her.

“I, uuuuh… I dunno…”, Isabelle finally mumbled truthfully while looking down at her feet.

“Well, would you call yourself ‘cute’ with those daggers around?” “Oh… yeees? Because I aaam cute! But, uuuh… people would be caaautios, right?”

“Exactly! Especially as you normally do not carry weapons with you.”

In an instant, Isabelle smiled again, and that very proudly! She had found the right answer! With some help, of course, but still!!

“So? What should we do about that?”

“Uuuhm… so I have to leeeave the daggers here? But diiidn’t you say to-” “Yes, Isa, I did say to take them with you”, R’namo interrupted her thoughts with a sigh. “I want you to carry knives with you. Hidden knives.”

“Wha-?”, Isabelles gasped. “But! But that's eeevil!”

“How so?”, her mentor asked, now seeming to be curious about the girls thoughts.

“Uhm… sooo, you are hiding your inteeentions by hiding the kniiifes! Like, liiike…” “Stabbing someone without them knowing you have weapons with you?” “Yes!!”

R’namo nodded slowly, so she seemed to understand what the girl ment.

“But is that your intention?”

“Hm? Myyy intention?”

“Do you want to stab people just like that?” “Whaaat? Nooo, i would neeever!” “So how can you hide your evil intention if you actually do not have that intention at all?”

For a moment, Isabelle stared blankly at R’namo, the gears spinning in her head. Was it evil? Was it not? Well, R’namo had a point, after all. But she could still- well, she would never do that, of course! Or would she? If someone was in trouble? Or she herself? What was right, what was wrong?

And so, her ultimate decision was… to slowly start sniffing and crying.

“Oh Isa…” The other Miqo’te bent down to her, to embrace her in a hug. “I didn’t… listen. Have I gone too far with the questions? I have, right?”

Some quick nods came from the sniffing young girl who wasn’t sure about the world she had gotten to know.

“Okay. Think of this. You are both right and wrong. I know, that sounds silly. But it is the truth. The thing is, those bandits and all of the evil people you think of… of course they will hide their weapons. Why shouldn’t they? People will feel safe around them, and so they can do whatever they plan by surprising them with their evil intentions. But on the other side, there are people like you. People that just want to protect themselve, or others if necessary. You never show them to anyone, if you don’t have to. And as you have no ill intentions, you can hardly be called evil.” “B-buuut! What if I am found ooout?!”, Isabelle mumbled into R’namos shoulder.

“Then you have to explain that. People will understand. As it’s the same with carrying them on display. Adventurers and guards, you name it. You see them and are not afraid, as you know they have no ill intentions, no they might even be there to protect you! And then there are the pirates that display their strength and might and that you should not mess with them. And the same principles apply to those that hide them. There are both - the good and the bad. But as long as you have good intentions, everything is fine. Okay?”

One last sniff, before Isabelle looked into R’namos face. And nodded. It made more sense now, even though Isabelle wasn’t too happy about it. But if R’namo said that… she had promised her to be honest to her. The mighty pinky promise. So it had to be the truth!

“There is just one thing you have to keep in mind”, came from Jonathan, who had been silent for the last minute. “Whether the knives can be seen or not - if you carry them, be ready to use them.”

“But… but R’naaamo said-” “She said what she said, yes, and she is right. You are not evil by hiding them, and you can go on without ever having to use them. But there might be an occasion where you need them. No, there will be an occasion where you have to use them. And if you don’t have the guts to use them once needed… you are better off without them.”

“He is right, Isa”, R’namo told the girl in her arms, who still seemed to be somewhat paralyzed by their conversation. “It’s… like your needle! You carry it with the intention to use it whenever it may be needed, right? Like with the girls when you first came here! Or when you patched my shirt!”

Finally, it clicked. Of course. A tool. A tool for protection. Like R’namo had told her before. Like the needle for mending and sewing!

“Can… caaan i hide just ooone knife…?”

“For now? Of course, if you feel better that way.”

“Theeen i will try!”

One knife was given to John, the other one remained with Isabelle, who looked rather confused about the situation. Where could she…? “R’naaamo…?” “You don’t know how to hide it?” Isabelle nodded.

“Well. Let me explain the basics!”

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

(Thanks for reading <3 I hope you enjoyed it! More will be added the coming days and may be linked here and will be linked on Isabelles story page!)

[Chapter 6: A Not So Subtle Style ->]

#Isabelle Birdseeker #Writing #My Writing #Growing Wings #about her~#final fantasy xiv #ff 14 #long post

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alyjojo · 24 days

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Thinking of You - April ✂️ 2024 - Virgo

Whole of their energy towards Virgo: 3 Wands

Feelings: 5 Cups

Intentions: King of Wands

Actions: 6 Wands

I heard the song from the minute I started shuffling, and I got a message of online dating, for whoever that applies, this person may have uncomfortably pressured you - I assume sexually. They’re disappointed in themselves or maybe how you see them now because of this, you could automatically jump to the worst conclusion about them or something, expecting Devil behavior from them - and it makes them sad. This could also be a flirty friend or coworker. If you think they’re all about sex, yeah they do come up as a fiery one, but they want to change your mind on that. Now if it’s not romantic, then this is a person that may have seen some darkness - either in you or not, and now expects it. From you or everyone idk. Some of these people are heavily pressured by their own actions, and what you’ll say about it, because they are regretful.

In their feelings is a deep sadness, focus on a hurt that has been done, probably by their own hand I’m getting. Here it shows Knight of Wands, in the intentions is King of Wands, they want to show you they’re better than that or they’ve matured since whatever impulsive/passionate action hurt you in the past. An apology at the bottom. They’re definitely sincere, idk what they did but they mean it. They intend to persevere through their mistakes, whatever they’ve done, and whatever silent treatment you’re giving them right now. I mean 🤷🏻‍♀️ There’s something appealing about a person that takes charge and wants to prove it - that’s what you want and that’s what they’re doing, it’s up to you. In action, it’s liable to surprise the hell out of you, that could be their intention. If you want a confession or fifty page list of all their wrongs, it looks like you’re getting it. Full accountability, they miss you, think of you constantly, will probably talk about the past a lot or being you up to speed on their personal improvements. They want victory with you, and they’ll do whatever it takes 💯

Messages:

Their side:

- Follow My Lead

- Living My Life

Your side:

- Light of my Life 💡

- There’s no one else for me.

Oracles:

Give me nirvana I can dance to 💃

Friendship 👯‍♂️

Team - Connection - Network

Illness 🤒

Disease - Weakness - Fragility

Possible signs:

Heavy fire 🔥 Leo, Sagittarius, Scorpio, Capricorn & Aries

If you’re dealing with:

Justice shows you’re focused on fairness, balance, equality and being truthful, setting any necessary boundaries on people or situations that threaten your peace or making any necessary decisions in regards to others - with fairness ruling above all. Could involve the law for some. Or switch it.

Aries - if one of you is holding onto grudges or shit from the past, the other person is over it and peaceful with how things turned out, they’re patient with the closed-off person

Taurus - silent treatment, not even saying what’s upsetting them, they’re just quiet 🤐 and the other person might not even care

Gemini - could get into some reckless or dangerous trouble regarding a car or travel if they’re not careful - impulsive or foolish. If romantic, they could randomly show up at midnight or otherwise surprise you with fun

Cancer - someone you work with that you have feelings for and hope to move forward with romantically - or they do

Leo - madly in love with you, could be a soulmate, ready to jump into something new and exciting

Virgo - could be lgbt, going through a separation, or a very popular person at work with a big personality - they’re really smart too, could just be someone that advises you

Libra - hopes to reconnect & celebrate with you, wants to be around you after some time apart, but they’re waiting on you, could just be really happy for you if you’re celebrating 🥳

Scorpio - a deeper commitment is on the table with them, started out with attraction & passion but they want it to be more - or you’re both moving forward in love 😻

Sagittarius - could be your boss, they have their hands in 20 different pots, a very busy work-orientated person, don’t have time for anything

Capricorn - stuck and unable to do something because of money, or they’re spending money on things that aren’t good/healthy for them

Aquarius - biding their time through the disappointment but happy for a new start, whenever it comes, that’s what they want

Pisces - there’s a lot they feel they don’t know, or you don’t, and fear around the truth coming out - or what someone has to say generally

#Virgo #thinking of you #april 2024 #astrology #tarot #tarotblr #tarot reading #Spotify

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devildomdisaster · 3 years

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This is a graphic thought and you don’t have to do it if you don’t feel comfy or if it broke any rules.

May I request hc’s of the Brothers reacting to an MC who killed their family before they were brought into the Devildom? Their family often abused and mistreated them which caused them to snap and they feel an attachment with Mammon with how he’s treated. MC’s not mean or intimidating. They’re very calm, polite, and keep a blank face since nothing scares them (It’s not like they have nothing to lose or care about so threatening to kill them would only be met with an empty smile and an even emptier eyes saying “Promise?”); but if asked about their family, MC would be like:

“Oh, I killed them 🙂” or “The last argument I had with my sister resulted in me cracking her skull open, so I can safely say we don’t fight anymore 😶”

They don’t regret it at all and would often wish they could do it again.

So I didn't make this very graphic. It is mostly just the brother's reactions to finding out Mc killed their family, no details about how they did it.

Content warnings: Abusive family, mentions of violence and death. The brothers being demons don't condemn this behavior. Mc struggles with mental health issues.

Lucifer:

Yeah, Mc? You’re going to have to explain this one.

Lucifer is big on family. He might be strict and find a certain kind of joy in punishing his brothers but he loves them more than life itself.

Once you explain that your family was abusive and that your life was in danger from them, he’ll be more understanding.

He is certainly shocked though. How could his sweet Mc be so violent?

And the fact that you have no remorse is both frightening and impressive.

He wonders if he should insist that you talk to someone about this.

“Listen Mc, what you did may have been justified but trauma doesn’t just go away because you ended the situation.”

He doesn’t want to force you to relive any of your trauma by making you talk about it. But he does think that maybe you should talk to a professional.

He won't insist unless you show signs of any lasting trauma, but he will keep an annoyingly close eye on you to make sure you are ok.

This is a big deal. It changes the way Lucifer sees you. He is less worried about you being able to protect yourself in the Devildom. But he grows increasingly worried about your mental health. After all, the human psyche is far more delicate than a demons.

He doesn’t condemn you for what you did, he just wants to be sure you aren't still suffering in any way.

Mammon:

Mammon just stares at you when you tell him what you’ve done.

How could some weakling human do that?

You act completely normal until something threatens you, and then you are apathetic. Daring the demon to do their worst. And Mammon can’t handle that! “Mc, no! That demon could kill ya without a second thought!”

“Promise?”

“I-what?!” He cares too much to let you throw yourself into danger like that.

He’s a bit afraid of you now. Not because you killed your abusive family, he understands that, but because you don’t seem to care about your own life.

Mammon starts tagging along with you everywhere just to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.

He tries to subtly get you to open up about your feelings more so he can help you. But 9 times out of 10 he isn’t subtle at all.

He...gets it. He’d rather you do something drastic and be safe than be lawful and hurt. But he’s worried about you.

Levi:

“Wh-What?”

“Mc, you can just do something like that and then spring it on me!”

Levi is more shocked than anything.

He thinks it's cool good that you stood up for yourself. He’s glad you aren't in that situation anymore. But killing them was a little drastic.

He has the awareness to worry that when you go back to the human realm you’ll be arrested. He knows humans have laws and consequences for these kinds of things even if it was to prevent your family from harming you.

Levi is angry that your family, the people who are supposed to love and care for you no matter what would be abusive to you. Part of him thinks they got what they deserved. The other part is still trying to comprehend how you could do that.

But your apathetic attitude does worry him. “Mc, you can’t go around acting like you don’t care about your life. Even if you don’t care, I do! You’re my Henry!”

Satan:

Satan wants to know why you don’t care about your life.

When you tell him about your family he is so angry he would go to the human realm and kill them if they weren't already dead.

He wants to know how you did it. The gory details.

Satan’s so proud that you would protect yourself like this, it's such a demonic thing to do.

But your lack of remorse while impressive and satisfying to his sin is still concerning.

He’ll read up on human psychology to check in on your mental health.

Expect him to recommend therapy to help you learn to care about your life. And work through any issues you may have.

Insists on being around to protect you until you learn to care about yourself again.

He assures you that he doesn’t think any less of you now that he knows what you did to your family. He just wants you to be ok.

Abusive family makes him so angry. If he could, he would wipe abusive families from existence.

His main concern is you and making sure you feel safe and loved.

Asmo:

“Oh? Mc, I didn’t know you had this tasty little secret.”

Asmo is both impressed and frightened.

You are so dainty and helpless compared to demons he forgets the violence that humans are capable of.

Your lack of remorse doesn’t bother Asmo at all. As far as he’s concerned they got what they deserved. Why bother with remorse, remorse is a waste of time.

But he is frightened by this surprising new side of you. The violence is what surprises him most. He’s never seen you be overly violent and the fact that you are capable of such things is frightening. He has a bit of trouble coming to terms with actions that he considers more a part of demon nature, not human nature.

Asmo’s sin is lust but he is in love with love. All love. He wants you to love yourself and it breaks his heart that you don’t seem to care about your life or wellbeing.

Please Mc, don’t antagonize demons into killing you. Asmo wants to help you learn to value yourself again.

He is determined to instill a sense of self-worth in you.

Beel:

“They were abusive? Then it’s good that you killed them.”

Beel point-blank agrees with your actions. He would rather you have done something drastic and illegal than be stuck in a situation where you are hurt repeatedly.

Beel would have killed them himself if you hadn't. He is a demon after all.

But he is concerned about your mental wellbeing.

He would rather you hadn’t had to do that, but he understands.

Now he just wants to be there to love and protect you, so that you can be happy.

He wants to show you that the world isn’t all bad. That there are people who will be kind to you even if those people are demons.

Your lack of self-worth concerns him. He hates to see you ask for a demon to kill you. Hates to see the emptiness in your eyes.

He wants to help return the light to your eyes more than anything.

Belphie:

Out of all the brothers Belphie understands murderous urges the most.

Your lack of remorse isn’t concerning him either. Especially when they deserved it.

But when he realizes that your lack of self-worth is due to your family's abuse he is concerned.

He wants to show you that he can be your family, him and his brothers. A good, caring family.

Belphie is suddenly so overprotective of you.

When any of his brothers or other demons threaten you Belphie is there to step in and stop them.

He gets so angry that even his brothers are shocked.

There is no way he will ever let anything like that happen to you ever again.

He’ll make sure your crimes cannot be traced to you, that way when you do go back to the human realm you won't face any consequences for what he views as self-defense.

Don’t think Belphie will let you keep trying to throw your life away. No way, he’s going to find a way to improve your mental health if it’s the last thing he does. Starting with working through the anger issues he suspects you have.

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 2 years

Note

Down the Mine

honestly not as funny as “Off the Rails”

okay no maybe it is

The story is classic, of course, but as far as the TV adaptation goes… ahh, I think they did the blocking on this one too early. It would have been lit if they had re-re-done the whole thing in Season 4, to be honest; I think they had more tricks to draw on by then.

The massive improvement they made in “The Flying Kipper” by portraying the accident with a little more gravity and drama? It could have been done here.

Because honestly the way they blocked it, it looks a bit dinky? Like, Thomas fucked up in a humiliating way, and he’s in an awkward predicament, and oh my God those tears… but, the thing I missed about this story for years, until seeing fanart and also learning about the Lindal Incident, is that Thomas’s situation here was really fucking serious.

Realistically, he and the Fat Controller were probably shouting to each other with Thomas stuck below, not at face level. Also, the rescue operation was not just logistically difficult, it was dangerous. The Fat Controller put himself at unnecessary risk sticking around (this season having already established that he’s useless at pulling). Gordon was also at risk. Once you have some subsidence, you risk even more of the ground giving way. (That happened at the Lindal mines—they recovered the tender and had good hope of recovering the rest of the engine… until the sinkhole abruptly got bigger.) The adaptation does make an effort to show what a feat of strength this is for Gordon but I argue it should be played up more. It’s funny—if Gordon hadn’t been on his punishment work messing around with trucks at Tidmouth, he probably wouldn’t have been on hand midday for the rescue, and it seems plausible to me that none of the other engines would have been strong enough to pull Thomas out. And, unlike the deal at Henry’s tunnel, there was a time limit here; with the whole subsidence risk, they were working against the clock and likely didn’t have time to wait for more engines. These days, I see this story as: If Gordon hadn’t been an arse about that damn special goods train, Thomas would have died (or, rather, a fate worse than death).

Anyway, the illustrator only had so much space to work with and was more reliant on the text. But I feel like, with more time and a bigger budget, David Mitton could have put a lot more interesting visuals “between the lines” of the narration.

And yeah, I don’t like people dismissing Season 1 because of how bare the set is or the lighting or whatever… but I must own, in this episode in particular, the lighting is dull and the sets are quite bare. It’s a bit jarring, especially when the episodes before and after it (“Off the Rails” and “Thomas’ Christmas Party”) are visually so interesting.

‘Course, for all my nitpicky what-could-have-beens, it’s still an enjoyable watch.

Also, amazing detail that I have never seen talked about:

Just as in “Thomas and the Trucks,” when the Fat Controller materializes, his shadow falls dramatically across Thomas’s sidetank.

That’s just one of those many little touches that make my heart burst with admiration for the passion of Season 1. A shoestring budget, still working out a lot of the kinks of this genre they were all but inventing—but damn did they just cram every minute with creativity, style, whimsy, and taste.

#chatter #ttte #thomas the tank engine #ttte thomas #the fat controller #ttte gordon #ttte episode talk #ttte season 1

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liz-allyn · 3 years

Text

shudder; part 6/6 [agent mobius x reader]

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 4.4k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: smut, language, soft daddy kink, sex in otherwise unsanitary conditions, writer's horribly pathetic attempt at dirty talk

A/N: Here it is guys. I struggled with this chapter a lot, also mad respect for gn!writers. I don't think I succeeded in keeping it neutral (welcoming feedback on how I can improve) so I removed that tag.

You watched a small fire crackle in the darkness of an elevator shaft, being used as a chimney. Rain spilled down the walls, running over old steel and concrete, but at least you were no longer in it.

Once you had had the strength to move off the beach, you found a footpath scaling up the face of the cliff which led to an abandoned mining post.

The population of Olympus-V had steady decline for decades, either by migration, poverty, or famine. The planet had been practically barren for years, save for some mining operations to squeeze the last of the planet’s natural resources.

It was in one of those posts where you were now taking refuge with Mobius. You sat on the ground near the elevator shaft, your clothes still soaked, while Mobius fiddled around with building a fire. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and tried to keep your teeth from chattering.

“You know how many centuries it took early man on Earth to figure out fire?” Mobius mused as he tended to the flames. “I mean, it’s not a competition or anything, but other civilizations had it down in like a few decades, max.”

You rolled your eyes miserably. “I got him killed, you know,” you replied, not having the energy to follow Mobius into another one of his “fun-facts-about-history” rabbit holes. You’d been quiet for a while, with Mobius having to hold both ends of the conversation. The grim tone in your voice gave him pause.

“The new guy,” you clarified, your tone flat as you spoke of your deceased partner. The last time you and Mobius had spoken, he had sang his praises. “It was only our fourth mission together and he’s dead. Because of me.”

Mobius sighed and turned away from you, “That’s one interpretation.” He dropped another piece of coal into the flame and came to a stand. “Or,” he added, “you could say he was a great analyst who made rational, competent choices and was working with the best data he had. The fact that he trusted you doesn’t make him any less responsible for the outcome.”

He idly wiped his hands on his pants, carrying on and providing no harbor for your self-pity, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

“No. You wouldn’t.” Your tone was icy. “Because you weren’t there.” You glared at him from across the smallish room you were huddled in, bitterness souring your voice. “You sent me away, remember?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his head slightly. “I had no other choice,” he parroted the same old response.

That wasn’t an answer that satisfied you. At all.

“Why?” you bit back with a mocking tone, coming to a quick stand. You pulled no punches. “Because the TVA told you to? Because if the Time Lords—”

“—Time Keepers—”

“—Time Fascists,” you hissed, “think that I have a crush on you, they'll zap me out of my useless existence?”

He glanced over at you, smirking with his head tilted slightly. He replied with a voice as sweet as caramel, “Are you saying you have a crush on me?”

Your shoulders dropped. “You’re insufferable.” You turned away, wishing you could find a different mine.

“Hey, considering my recent valiant and heroic efforts to rescue you,” he replied, “you’d think you’d be a little nicer to me.” You let out an exhausted sigh, but he kept going - cool as a cucumber. “I thought we had a thing going there. I mean - first, you kiss me—”

You spun on your heel. “Kiss you!?” you scoffed.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “On the beach.”

“I was resuscitating you!” you argued. “You call that a kiss?”

He shrugged innocently, a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” he responded matter-of-factly. “But, uh, yeah - it was a little underwhelming.”

He grinned slyly. You wanted to simultaneously melt into him and burn him alive. You scoffed, shaking your head incredulously.

“What was the point?” you exclaimed. “What’s the point of rescuing me if I’m nothing but a - a tool? A blunt hammer for the TVA to snuff out anyone that steps out of line?”

The pain in your voice was unmistakable, and Mobius dropped his playful banter.

“You think I’ve enjoyed spending the last - however long it's been - hopping around the timeline hunting people who are no different than me?” Your heart ached with every word, “You think I enjoy killing?”

“No,” he answered, weighed with guilt, “I don’t.”

Your rage flared. “Then why won’t you just let me go!?”

“I can’t,” he quietly explained, eyes cast down. He wouldn’t even look at you.

Fuck this infuriatingly charming, cowardly little TVA sheep-whore.

You felt the venom pooling on your tongue. “God! You’re such a company man, aren’t y—”

“I can’t!” he raised his voice in a way that you’d never heard before, stunning you into silence. He lifted his gaze and looked at you solemnly, his expression filled with regret. His words were weak, broken - barely above a whisper. “...Let you go.”

You stared blankly at him, reading the tragedy written on his features. With his defenses down, you could clearly see every word: I don’t want to let you go. I need you, forever. You are mine and I am yours and nothing else makes sense beyond that. I’d do anything to keep you safe.

Were those his thoughts, or yours? You didn’t know anymore.

Mobius reached up quickly and loosened his tie, before deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt.

You were staring like a deer in the headlights. “Wha-Wai-what are you doing?” you blurted uncomfortably with a furrowed brow.

He rolled his eyes. “Not catching hypothermia, if that’s alright with you,” he snarkily said as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing a soaked white undershirt beneath. You remembered that you both were freezing and wet. “I’m drying my clothes by the fire. We still have 10 hours and 23 minutes until we hit the radiation peak.”

Ah yes, you had almost forgotten.

Ten hours until the end of the world, or at least of Olympus-V. And because Mobius’ TempPad was unbelievably conveniently out of juice, and unable to open another Time Door, you were pretty sure you had about the same amount of time left to exist.

Mobius confidently felt otherwise. He rattled on some jargon about needing a massive source of energy to power the TempPad - something about electromagnetic waves, solar bursts, radiation of a dying star, the “sweet spot” between a steady charge and a gruesome death. You honestly stopped listening back at the beach.

You were too busy questioning his motives and your own. Were you happy that Mobius was trapped with you, about to be swallowed by the sun? Or were you furious that he idiotically ran right into an apocalypse and now you both were going to die.

He quipped that at least that technically made him a hero; maybe he’d get a plaque in the TVA cafeteria. You would’ve made some kind of cheeky comeback, but you were already dying inside at that devastating thought.

“Not to be too forward, but you should probably do the same,” Mobius added, bringing you back to the present situation where he was undressing in front of you. “You’re shaking like a chihuahua right now.”

You were about to question the puzzling thought of him being in a place in time to observe a chihuahua, but then he pulled his wet t-shirt over his head. You turned your gaze away reflexively as soon as you spotted human flesh.

Here you were - former soldier, mercenary, and spy, and fearsome hunter of the Time Variance Authority - blushing like a shrinking violet. It’s not that he didn’t have a point, it was just--fuck, he’s undoing his belt— is this real life right now?

“Don’t worry,” he scoffed flippantly. “I’ll even turn my back to preserve your innocence and sanctity.”

He was being facetious but it made you wonder if he had any idea how un-sanctified you were. Your eyes widened at the thought: Did he watch that on the highlight reel too?

Now he was pulling his slacks off, and you were tracking in real time again. He kept his promise and had his back to you, allowing you the privacy to undress. And you did.

You peaked over your shoulder to see him lay his clothes out in front of the flames. He dragged over an old canvas tarp he’d found - pieces of which he’d stripped off for kindling - and moved it to a safe proximity from the fire. He sat down in the middle of the tarp, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around him.

And he kept his underwear on - boxer briefs, you’d called it - not that you were trying to look below his waist or anything.

Once he was at rest, he rubbed his hands over his bare arms to create friction. You mirrored his steps one-by-one, until you were also sitting in your underwear on the canvas with your bare backs inches apart.

You both were quiet for a long time, facing opposite directions, surrounded by the cold darkness, and the sound of trickling water. You could still hear the waves thrashing and the rain bartering on the rocks outside. The crackle of the fire - the way the flame danced and dimly lit your surroundings, brought you a sense of peace. It was almost... romantic. Even if it was the end of the world.

“I know this is my fault,” Mobius declared, breaking the silence. You could hear struggle in his voice. “I know I was supposed to stay within my lane. My purpose is to preserve and protect the timeline, and that’s it, it’s just....” He sighed, and you listened carefully, hanging on his words. Was this doubt?

It sounded like he was trying to understand himself. “Something’s different now,” he explained, with a little bit of wonder and fear. “When we’re together, I feel… like I’m someone else. And I’m not who I was before. Before you.”

You quietly listened, thinking about how much you identified with what he was saying.

“My head is telling me it’s all wrong,” he said, “that I’m making a mistake. That I’m playing with fire.” His next thoughts brought the tiniest grin to his otherwise grim voice. “When I’m with you… I feel like a dope… Reckless.” The smile faded as his thoughts sobered him. “Dangerous.”

In the silence that followed, you wondered again whose thoughts you were hearing - his or yours.

“How can something that feels so right be wrong?” he mused openly - for you, the Time Keepers, and all the Sacred Timeline - to hear.

The question that hung heavy in the air had such a clear answer, of which you were certain. Your mind raced trying to think of how to respond, how to explain. You simply couldn’t find the words.

So you turned your body towards him. You reached over Mobius’ shoulder gently to cup the side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss.

It was slow and chaste, projecting every intention and emotion that you lacked the words to describe. Each time you moved your lips, you took another breath; you wrote another line of your love letter to him. He sank deeper into your kiss, as your souls tangled and caught fire.

And then you felt it.

You were positioned behind him, with his back to your chest when a burst of lightning crawled up his spine. A desperate shudder racked his body. He pulled away from you breathlessly, his eyes closed, as you both panted and glowed with the heat of the moment.

“If I didn’t know any better,” your lips curled into a sultry smile, “I’d say I was making you nervous.”

He opened his dark bronze eyes at that, drinking you in. He couldn’t help but mirror your mischievous smirk. In an instant, he snatched you up and pulled you onto his lap. You kissed him hungrily, straddling him, as his hands glided over your body.

Your mind went foggy, as any composure you had in the situation was evaporating. His lustful kisses scorched your skin as they traveled down your neck. He lifted you higher so that he could drink more of you in. You gasped and sighed at how your body reacted to him, your fingers digging into his scalp. He groaned with pleasure as he found your open mouth again, your tongue a welcoming partner.

He pulled you in tighter, your hips grinding further into him. You felt his want, hard against your body, and you felt the last of your innocence pooling between your legs. The friction made you let out an un-sanctified moan, breaking away from his kiss. The sound of your voice intoxicated him.

You were in a controlled descent backwards as he lowered you to your back.

When did you start trembling? Has it really been that long since your last time?

Your hands danced across his chest, triggering goosebumps. Even his skin wanted you. You writhed beneath him as he positioned himself between your legs. You were bursting like a firecracker with anxious need. Your hands groped him, nails gently grazing - traveling down his torso and beneath the waistband of his boxers.

He gasped as your fingers wrapped around his organ, fluttering his eyes shut at your touch. You were on autopilot, your physical need in command of your body, as you attempted to pull his stiff erection from his boxers.

Mobius snatched your hands and you froze. He pulled your arms up, grasping your hands tightly, and pinned your wrists to the floor on either side of your head. You were hit with a wave of confusion, followed by shame.

Maybe you’d read this wrong. You looked up at him, half-expecting to read an expression of disgust.

What you found was the opposite.

His eyes— gentle, dark, and focused intently on you— telegraphed a message for you to read carefully:

You were not the one in control here.

You felt the wind of butterflies deep in your core as you realized he had clear goals for you in mind. He was asking you - imploring you - for command of your body. For the record, he already had it - whether or not either of you were conscious of it.

You lay still, save for your chest’s gentle movements, as his eyes unravelled the layers of your being. Trapped in his gaze, you were stripped bare in more than just flesh.

You were time travelling again - years into the past. The pages of your chapters fell away, until you felt like a pupil again, watching your master navigating the geography of your body.

His grip softened, giving your palms an affectionate squeeze before he released your hands. His leering gaze was already gliding down your valleys, and his hands followed, letting his fingertips brush the delicate flesh of your forearms as they travelled.

All your mind could do to focus was count your every breath as his touch and kisses grazed your skin. You wondered how long it had been for him. You quivered at the thought of him planning this moment.

He took time tasting you with each kiss - down your chest, your belly, the crest of your hips. You lifted your core with his encouragement, allowing him to pull away your last remaining piece of clothing. You were finally unveiled before him. He sighed softly, mind buzzing, as he delicately spread your legs apart.

He moved so slowly with intention, relishing each moment. You were on the verge of losing it and he had yet to touch your most sensitive areas. He could feel your hips squirm with anticipation.

“I want you,” he pacified you, “more than anything.” He tenderly kissed the inside of your thigh. “But I need to know that you want this too. Without a doubt in your mind.”

You were desperate by this point, way past “willing.” Regardless, he met your eyes, waiting patiently for your consent.

You were consumed with lust. “Please,” you stuttered in passionate exhilaration. You could barely recognize your own voice, “You can do anything you want to me.”

His face twitched into a sinful smirk. “I know.” There was that confidence again. “But that’s not what I asked.” He steadied his composure and fixed himself in your sights once again. You gazed at him with a more sobered expression, giving this moment the respect he wanted.

He watched your lips now that he had your attention. “Tell me you want me to make you feel good,” he seductively implored. “Tell me you want me to take you, here and now. I need to hear you say yes.”

The way he asked for your consent could’ve put you over the edge by itself.

“Yes,” you practically moaned under your breath. It was a sinful, thirsty plea. “God, yes, please. I want you to touch me.”

That ignited his fuse.

He lowered to his elbows, positioning his arms beneath your legs. His mouth was on you, leaving you aghast at the force. It was like he wanted more than just to please you - he relished in devouring you, like a frozen dessert on a hot summer day. You jolted and gasped, more from surprise than pain. He took note anyway, and steadied his animalistic pace.

It wasn’t long until your eyes were rolled in the back of your head. You were thunderstruck, arching your body and moaning with ecstasy.

The way his name sounded each time it sprang from your lips made him drunk. Every time you uttered it, you felt him tense and groan. It was a perpetual cycle. Your hips would reflexively buck from the intense pleasure and he would just hold on tighter. He forced your thighs apart as you encouraged him to unleash more rapture on your body.

This was not a particularly new position for you, but it was good. You weren’t sure where he got the experience, but he was really, really good.

And if “Sacred-you”— “NC-17-rated,” “parental-advisory-warning-labelled” badass-you—could just see yourself now: writhing on the floor while being laid out by an older man, one whom you’d rarely seen out of a brown suit and tie. You didn’t think this man knew how to fire a gun before, but you were practically mewling for him like a kitten.

And god, he really seemed to enjoy it.

You warned him that you couldn’t last much longer. You felt the tension building inside. You wanted desperately to satisfy him, to feel him inside of you, to have him enraptured with you. But unless he slowed down, you were going to lose it right here with his mouth on you. You knew he had needs, and you began to plead with him to let you fulfill them.

You pushed down on his shoulders, begging him to let you have a turn. He pulled away, pausing only briefly.

“Uh uh,” he chastised you with a wicked grin. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

He was back on you before you could reply, this time reaching two of his fingers into your core.

Your head dropped backwards at the sensation, and now you were obscenely begging him for more. You’d happily given up any attempt at controlling what happened next, focusing solely on the nuclear fission in your body.

You blossomed for him as his fingertips pulsed on the most sensitive flesh inside inside you. Muscles you didn’t even remember you had repeatedly contracted. He impurely hummed and he lapped greedily at the fruit of his labor.

You were gasping for air, beaded with sweat, as you came down from your high. He leaned over you to witness the sunset of your orgasm. Eyes full of lust, he pulled himself free of his boxers and discarded them as he watched you.

When you glanced down to see the stunning sight of his stimulation, it re-electrified you. You pulled yourself into a sitting position on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your legs straddled him eagerly as he lifted your hips over his member.

The erotic sound you both made as you slid down his shaft was sinful enough to cast you both into hell. You kissed him, open-mouthed, and tasted yourself on his tongue. Now that you were on top of him, wrapped around him, he seemed more frantic and less calculated with his movement.

He was gazing up at you like a lustful teenage boy, letting himself be taken by passion. “God...” he whispered, suddenly less skilled with words. “You feel so... ah!... s-so beautiful...”

“You’re so hard…stretching me so tight,” you groaned into his mouth, and he growled in agreement, nodding his head.

He broke away from the kiss, “God - yes, ah, you’re s-so tight, baby...” You grinned excitedly as you climbed and descended his length. You moaned like a porn star as you rode him.

“I can call you that, can’t I?” he said through his own breathless moans. You glanced at him in confusion. He looked concerned. His hands braced your hips as you continued your movement. “Is that okay?”

“Wha-what?”

“The pet name,“ he explained through sighs, “B-Baby? I-I don’t want it to sound de-demeaning, or... patronizing—”

Okay. Now he was overthinking it.

“It’s fine,” you urged him to move on, growing more frustrated, but now he was babbling nervously.

“I could call you something else—”

“—don’t care—”

“—’s’important to me that you know I respect you, and I’d never—”

“I don’t care, I—You can call me whatever you want. Please, daddy… Just— fuck me…”

You crashed your lips on his, but felt his breath hitch as he tensed you immediately. You either said something very right, or very wrong. The sex had all but come to a screeching halt, as you reluctantly met his eyes.

He gazed at you thoughtfully, gears turning.

Timidly, you searched his face for judgment, for any sign of disapproval, but instead, there was a look of almost— awe.

You watched the change in him as the devil overtook him. His eyes turned three shades darker, pooling with lust. His expression of wonder melted into a devious smile. Your dirty talk awakened something in him, like he was remembering a long-forgotten visceral part of himself.

He scooped you up and laid you on your back again, pulling himself out of your body. You only had a brief time to revolt, until he sat up on his knees and he lifted one of your thighs up, pulling your leg over his shoulder. You watched curiously trying to figure out what he was doing, until he gripped your hips and pulled you downward— over his shaft.

You let out a painfully delicious cry as he bottomed out inside of you. He hungrily watched your expressions and relished in the sound of your moans.

His hand braced the inside of your other thigh, holding your legs open so that you were spread at the right angle for him. As soon as he began to thrust, you were done for.

You groaned with ecstasy. “That’s... it..,” he praised you, eliciting more cries from you.

There were no more performances. There was no more pageantry. No more room for pretending to be anyone other than who you are.

You were coming undone for him, and he watched every moment. Every dirty thought and fantasy you ever had might as well have been written on your body. He studied each line.

“Oh god, Mobius—yes,” you babbled as you squirmed.

“Yeah?” he breathed, teasingly. “Does that feel good?” You nodded frantically.

Sweat beaded down his chest as his hands roamed to find your sweet spot, and another desperate wave of ‘yes’s flooded out from your lips.

“What did you call me?” he enticed, his mouth watering for your response. “What name did you call me before?” You were struggling with words, but he wouldn’t stop until he coaxed the right one from you.

“Say it.”

You tangled your fingers in your scalp, turning your head away. He thrust into your hips a little deeper, and you cried out obscenely.

“Say it,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I wanna hear you say it again. I wanna watch you say it to me.”

More lewd noises dropped out of your mouth, as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Yes, please, I love what’re… doing t’ me… I need it, daddy…”

He groaned with a lecherous smile, biting his lip. “You are so good for me.”

Lust was dripping from each word as he drew them out. His honeyed, Southern accent had returned. His eyes were blown black as he cooed with praise, “You make me wanna be so bad.”

You were gone after that. Your head tilted back, crying out through another climax. He could hear his own voice—that’s it that’s it—moaning in the distance somewhere, but he was enthralled with your little pleas. The tones of your voice washed over him; he used them to quell the blaze inside.

He knew everything he wanted to do to you, and everything you wanted him to do. And he couldn’t get past the feeling, as he buried himself deeper inside of you, that this was all... familiar.

This picture of you, spread out gloriously beneath him, was impossibly familiar. He imagined a bed that wasn’t his own, and light blue cotton sheets that couldn’t have been his, and the sunlight peeking from a sheer curtain, and falling across the ecstasy-filled face of his lover that he couldn’t have ever married...

That was....you.

Your voice was echoing in Mobius’ head. You whined and whimpered, glowing with passion, signaling that you were moments away from your climax. And then he was here - on Olympus-V with you, and he felt you tighten and flutter around him.

The sight of you, writhing beneath him as you reached orgasm, pulled a deep moan from his chest. White hot light flooded his vision. His body jerked and reacted in unison, filling you with his seed.

For someone for whom time had little meaning, he was now obsessed - trying to catch and hold back each fleeting moment. He leaned forward, his body spent, and you pulled his chin down into a longing kiss.

His mind was spinning. His lungs were still taking deep breaths. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes closed as he struggled to make sense of what was real and what was a dream.

“I could never let you go,” he declared, deep in contemplation. You didn’t quite understand the connection in the present moment. You didn’t remember.

“Then stay with me,” was your gentle reply.

He gazed once again into your eyes with a knowing smile. “Always.”

A/N: And I'm leaving it there. For now. Please reblog with feedback, or send me a message on your thoughts. This is my first attempt at writing in a long, long time. Also it's my first attempt at smut so be nice with your feedback :-)

THANK YOU to all of you for your wonderful comments. Please reblog for support!

@generalhugzzz @isaxbella749 @yodaboo @aloyssia @simsiddy @coloursforyourportrait

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rainbowsky · 2 years

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Hi! I really liked your answer if XZ and WY would leave China in the future. I'm from a western country, but one from the southern hemisphere, so "western fantasies of leaving one's country for freedom (in the USA or Europe)" always rubbed me the wrong way. First, because not all of USA or Europe is actually a LGBTQ+ paradise. Second, it's prejudice, even if it comes from good intentions. Besides, I think they would (if they could) rather advocate for more rights in their our country...

This is in reference to a previous post.

Yeah. I think it's misguided, even if it’s at times understandable, to wish GG and DD would move to another country. They clearly love their country, and it can very difficult and painful to leave everyone you love behind and start out somewhere new, especially if there are language or cultural barriers.

It would be a huge step down in their careers to leave what is by far their biggest market and try to make more inroads internationally. They would be leaving the infrastructure they've built around themselves that is guiding them, protecting them and assisting their careers. Teams of people they know and trust, and probably have very close friendships with by now.

I suspect they probably already have a mostly pretty comfortable circle where they are safe to be themselves and be open about their relationship, so there's really not a lot to be gained for them by leaving, and potentially a lot to be lost. Wherever they go, if they want to maintain their careers they're going to have to project an aura of romantic availability, so they wouldn't be able to come out about their relationship. Not unless they were retired, I guess.

And it's not like they would be completely leaving the influence of the current regime in China anyway. This regime is known to be quite protective of its own interests and image globally, and to exercise influence over expats even from afar.

I like what you said about advocating for more rights in their own country. Unfortunately there are pretty big limits to people's ability to do that in China, but I totally agree that it would be far preferable to see the situation for queer people improve in China, than to see a mass exodus of queer people from China.

And it's true that it's not a queer paradise in most other parts of the world. It's pretty damn good in Canada, but Canada is also a very small nation. Vancouver or Toronto would seem like a small village to GGDD. 😅

I do sympathize with that Anon, though, and with other fans who want GG and DD to be in a better position in some ways. I think our hearts are in the right place, we just all need to be very sensitive about how we express our concerns and what kind of climate we are creating for others with the things we say, and we need to reflect a bit on where some of our ‘delusions of grandeur’ come from as well. Very often it comes from our own ignorance about what it’s like in other parts of the world.

Here in the west we are so steeped in Sinophobic BS in all of our media, it's important to make sure we examine situations fully to ensure that we are well informed. It's common, for example, for international fans to believe that homosexuality is illegal in China, and that GG and DD are in imminent danger as queer men in China, which is simply untrue. I talked about that in more detail here. (Not saying Anon believed that, just that it’s common among fans).

It can be infuriating to watch some of the things that have been happening regarding queer rights, etc., but unfortunately leaving probably isn’t the magic solution to that for GGDD. It would be nice if it was that simple, but it really isn’t.

#lgbtpride #fandom reflections #ask

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eatyourchancletas · 3 years

Text

SUMMARY | y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

[chapter index] [playlist] [previous chapter]

AUTHOR’S NOTE | we’re back! sorry for the long break, hopefully we can get into the flow of things! monnie’s already started chapter 5 off amazingly too :p written by both of us this time (mainly edited by monnie)! please leave feedback, like, reblog, whatever you can to let us know whether you enjoyed it or not! (re-edited because dongwoo and changsik were switched up)

WORD COUNT | 2.4k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

y/n was usually called outstanding, hard-working, smart. but in reality, he was an idiot when he was outside the workforce.

being a workaholic meant showing your skills, growing them, improving them, and practicing them constantly. sometimes it seemed to be all he knew— it’s what all the people around him saw.

yet again, outside of it he’s quite a gullible man; which brings him to his current situation…

“looking for something?”

he looked away from the bandages he was previously examining to come face to face with a man that looked around his age. “not really, just restocking my clinic. or—trying to find things to restock it with.” the man nods, glancing around suspiciously, although y/n didn’t didn’t seem to take notice of this particular action.

“this pharmacy is pretty small, but it has lots of good supplies… lots of hidden gems. want me to show you where i get my tools?”

“oh,” y/n blinked in surprise, “you’re in the medical field?”

the man made eye contact with him, managing a convincing smile. “yeah, there’s a clinic down the road from here, about fifteen minutes by foot, this is the nearest pharmacy, so we stock up from here most of the time. i work there as an assistant.”

y/n nodded, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “wow, then please! show me what you suggest.”

at the approval, the man nodded, “name’s changsik, by the way. what do you work as? i’m assuming you’re also in the medical field.”

they walked along the aisle of the cough syrups, ointments, and the few other medicines to turn and make their way to the exit door. y/n furrowed his brows, about to ask why they were exiting until changsik made another turn, walking towards the staff room.

“your assumption is correct, i’m a surgeon…” he replied belatedly, trailing off as he stepped foot inside the room. his eyes trailed on the shelves full of unopened boxes, more prescription pills, and—bingo! the supplies he’d written down on his list.

for a split second, the memory of san handing it to him flashes across his mind, blinking it away as he turned to changsik. “wait, how are you able to access this?”

“i’m a regular.” he glanced across at him, looking past the window. “and also the perks of having a pharmaceutical license,” a hefty laugh left his mouth, “took some convincing though.”

“huh,” y/n squatted down, inspecting a box that was on the floor, “i guess that makes sense.”

“just put what you need in a box and take it out. i’ll just say you’re helping me take it back.” changsik smiled, watching y/n nod and do so.

after a few minutes, y/n finished and announced he was ready to check out. changsik’s eyes met one of the cctv cameras before settling on y/n.

“alright, let’s go check out.”

as they walked toward the front, they reached the hallway that led to the exit. just as y/n was going to walk past, toward the checkout counter, a hand forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. he looked behind him, in a startled manner, thinking changsik had just forgotten something. however, a deeper fear struck when changsik’s hand moved to clench at the back of his collar.

“don’t make a sound.”

the second the cold blade touched the skin of y/n’s neck, the surgeon knew to stay quiet. there was a burning in his throat as he struggled to swallow, scared to trigger any abrupt movement. his frantic mind jumbled about, words of scolding placed toward himself and the situation while trying to get a grip. he thought of using the in-ear to alert jongho, but it would risk exposure of the communication device: in any case… he’d be dead by then.

“what is taking him so long?” jongho grunted, tapping his foot in impatience. it’d already been about 10 minutes since y/n entered the store—it shouldn’t take that long for a surgieron to find equipment that’s of medicinal standard!

tapping his in-ear and calling out the doctor’s name, he got no response. placing his face mask on, he rushed into the store, beckoning the cashier. “have you seen a man, about 6’3” with h/c hair?”

the cashier stared at him with a shocked look, “yes, but he went back toward the restrooms. is he dangerous?”

jongho shook his head before running toward the back of the store. he shoved against the restroom door, shouting out the older’s name as he threw open each stall door. finally admitting the fact that the older had disappeared, he tapped his in-ear once more, calling out for anyone.

“jongho, what’s going on?” hongjoong had intercepted the connection, hearing jongho’s worried voice.

the bodyguard had no time to register the primal fear that would settle itself in his bones once faced with the leader, “it’s y/n, hyung. he ran away.”

jongho returned to the headquarters after scoping out the area once more and had just entered through the front door when he was met with the sight of the whole group.

hongjoong was staring at him with his jaw clenched and an almost empty whiskey glass settled in his lax hand. jongho had never seen a look so severe in hongjoong’s eyes—he’d never messed up this bad. and apparently, the leader wasn’t the only one emotionally affected by his mistake, because before hongjoong could even physically express his own anger, san had snatched the glass from his hand and launched it at jongho, missing his head by less than an inch.

everyone was shocked at his silent outburst, san even going as far to ignore the immense pain in his abdomen and on his shoulder, but hongjoong simply sent the younger a look, causing him to cower back in the slightest. jongho, however, was enraged at what had just happened. what gave san, who had no superiority over him, the right to do that?

“what the fuck was that?” he had stormed over to the boy, grabbing his shirt with both fists. san didn’t back down, sticking his jaw out toward the youngest.

“how could you lose y/n?”

“i was told no matter what to avoid cameras, so i stayed outside! i didn’t exactly think the fucker would have the balls to run away!”

everyone watched the two, eyeing when to step in and pull them apart. but hongjoong let them run their mouths. the longer someone talks, the more something is revealed. what he was looking to be revealed, he didn’t know; but something would come up.

san pushed back against jongho, “y/n hyung wouldn’t run away. he’d never do that!”

‘oh,’ hongjoong perked in interest.

the younger scoffed, “what makes you so sure?”

san’s next words came as a bit of a shock, leaving the others with silent questions, “he promised he’d come back.”

bingo!

an awkward silence filled the room as they all stared, speechless at how hopelessly fond their brother had become for their hostage. as much as some of them hated to admit it, y/n was only a hostage to them at the end of the day. and for san to fall into a reversal stockholm syndrome of sorts was nothing short of a disappointment. however, that couldn’t be the main focus, y/n was missing and they didn’t know how strong his resolve would be in the event of torturing.

“run us back on what happened, will you?” hongjoong told jongho, trying to get a clear picture on what went down because the first thing they needed to know was why y/n was taken, much less, who took him. was it by the same person who’d been running their mouths in the streets?

and right in the middle of his explanation, an alarm went off on yeosang’s phone; it was a message. the others kept talking, figuring yeosang could handle whatever message he’d received.

it was when he promptly stood up that all attention had been placed on him.

“it’s him! it’s dongwoo!”

a soft whimper sounded as y/n was thrown to the ground, hands bound and eyes blinded by some piece of cloth.

“boss,” y/n’s kidnapper spoke in a submissive wave, causing y/n to assume the guy had straightened his spine and was saluting him in some way.

a moment later, a gruff voice broke through the eerie silence in the room, “and who is this?” his voice wasn’t angered or bewildered at all, and that’s what scared y/n. he sounded intrigued; like even he wasn’t expecting to be a part of this situation.

“someone with connections to ateez— saw that bodyguard walking around with him.”

the other man hummed, “the bodyguard didn’t follow you, did he?”

“no, no. i found them by the pharmacy; i know the area pretty well because i do the runs for sowon— i knew the camera blindspots!” his abductor seemed to be a bit on the simpler side when it came to this “boss” of his, y/n concluded. this was a completely different personality than when he was being abducted at the scene…

“good job. and you know what, changsik-ah,” his voice seemed to be getting more intrigued, y/n’s heart beating even faster in response, “since you bought in such a valuable hostage, i’ll let you have the honors of obtaining information from him.”

y/n felt the air beside him shift, changsik bowing a full 90 degrees at his boss’s blessing, “thank you!”

a sickeningly hearty laugh resonated and the creaking of a chair sounded before the boss’s next words seemed to be the final straw for y/n’s pounding heart.

“i want him alive.”

“he better be alive,” san growled at jongho.

“we might get to him alive if you two would quit bickering. we’re wasting time because of you two, so shut it and sit down!” hongjoong had had enough of the two. he knew it was a sensitive time for san and jongho, different reasons for both, of course, but they would only get nowhere if they weren’t level-headed.

the two boys bowed their heads at their leader, san still sending a side-eyed glare at the younger before sitting down in his chair.

it’d been two days since y/n was kidnapped and they still hadn’t been able to come up with a plan to get y/n back.

wooyoung tried to trace where the text message came from within the first minute it was received, but surprise, surprise! it was a burner phone— so back to square one; checking all of the cctv footage in the area and trying to spot a suspect that wasn’t even visible from the first frame.

the cameras in the pharmacy showed only y/n, the pharmacist, clerk, and four other customers. of those four, only one person never entered through the front door. and within those 48 hours, he’d managed to single out a vehicle that had arrived in the frame of one of the street cams showing the alleyway behind the pharmacy, and left the same way not even 5 minutes later. it was a suspicious vehicle too; white van, no windows in the back, and paper license plates. the paper plates hinted that they were most likely changed recently or are changed frequently.

and so after hours of having to witness his best friend be so uncharacteristically frantic and down, wooyoung, unfortunately, decided to do what he thought was smartest—save y/n himself to make his best friend happy again.

his intentions may have been well, but in stories like these, doesn’t something always go wrong?

“help me set the table guys,” seonghwa cleared his throat, hand on his hip as he stirred the soup on the stove. the steam from the boiling liquid sent another cloud to his tired face, a sheen of sweat and condensation forming.

“i really don’t understand why we are acting like we have the time to set a table and eat home cooked meals when we don’t!” san exasperated, pacing around the dining room.

mingi gave a sympathetic smile, patting him on the back before going to help seonghwa.

while mingi was more on the understanding side of san’s worries, jongho disagreed, “how exactly do you expect us to find him if we don’t take care of ourselves?”

“all i’m saying is food and sleep shouldn’t be this consistently on your minds when we’re all in this situation!”

jongho scoffed, finding the utmost absurdities in san’s words, “why are you acting like he’s so important? he doesn’t know anything about us or our weaknesses— for fuck’s sake, it’s not like we can’t just get another doc—”

a fist had flown toward jongho’s cheek, cutting off his words, before san’s thrashing body was being pulled back by mingi and yeosang.

“go to hell choi jongho!” san screamed, trying to force his way through the barrier the two had made with their bodies. the boy could feel his stitches tearing as he fought, but he didn’t care. jongho had been a bitch since the very first moment y/n was around, and for what reason?

“cut it out, san!” yeosang hollered, voice brute as he pushed against the boy.

“no, let me at him. he wants to keep being a little shit, i’ll show him shitty!”

“stop it! you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

san didn’t stop trying to break the barrier, focusing on getting to jongho and the other’s words, “notice what?”

“wooyoung’s missing,” yeosang began, san whipping his head toward him and trying to disagree, but yeosang was having none of it, “and you haven’t done anything but antagonize everyone here for not doing their jobs at your pace!”

“oh, excuse me for trying to be as quick as possible in finding him!”

“yeah, and who ever said quick was the efficient route to go? we’re dealing with people we know nothing about, but they seem to know a little too much about us, no? so stop getting on everyone’s asses and—”

“shut the hell up! please!” seonghwa had slammed his hands down on the table, screaming at the top of his lungs. every person in the room had immediately gone silent, words left on the tips of their tongues in a desperate attempt to fly about.

“you’re all going to shut it, sit down, and eat this meal like the civilized people we are and come up with a plan to get y/n back as safely as possible,” he gave a quick glare at everyone, blowing a puff of air at the lock of hair that had settled over his eyelids.

“am i clear?”

"yes, sir."

#t.k chapter #tinted kisses #kpop x male reader #x male reader #choi san x male reader #san x male reader #choi san #san ateez #ateez fic #ateez series #series #top male reader #ateez #ateez x male reader #kpop imagines #kpop series #kpop fics #ateez fics

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cerastes · 3 years

Note

What do you make of Specter's operator record? Personally I liked it, but that's with the knowledge we're getting more Specter backstory soon.

Ok, so! Just as you pointed out, I went into it with the knowledge that:

We're getting Under TIDES soon.

Specter gets a second Operator Record later, some time after Under TIDES.

And with that in mind, I'm fine with it, but if I was a CN player and all we got was Specter's first Operator Record without any knowledge of the future, I would be pretty pissed, lmao. In fact, CN players were pretty pissed, the reception to her Operator Record was pretty bad. Specter is a popular character both in terms of gameplay and character (the latter more so in China, she gets a steady influx of cosplayers, fanart and fanfic in Weibo, Lofter, and such). It's believed that Hypergryph announced her second Operator Record because of this backlash.

Now, with the context and preamble on the table, I want to say: Great idea, not so great execution. Overall, I enjoyed it, but again, that's only with knowledge of the future. Despite that, I sincerely praise Hypergryph for actually having the balls to try a narrative approach like this one on a mobile game. The thing is, just because an idea is interesting doesn't mean it's good, and I think a lot of aspiring writers and designers need to hammer that in their head, especially armchair game designers that like to theorize oh so much about how cool it would be to have a game that did this or that. I don't care if it's cool or not, is it enjoyable to experience?

And that's just the thing with Specter's Operator Record: It felt lackluster in many regards. The approach was definitely interesting, bold, I'd even say, but that doesn't really matter too much if the result isn't a success, now, does it? Let's immediately address the Originium Slug in the room: Specter doesn't even appear in it. Now, is that an interesting approach to an Operator Record? Sure! Is it good? I don't really think so, especially with a character that fans really have been clamoring to see more of in actual cutscenes, given the wealth of clues they've put regarding Specter in other places:

Blue Poison' Files -> We learn that Blue Poison knew Specter personally before her descent to madness, addressing her with her real name.

Skadi's Dialogue -> Skadi implies that Specter was on a very important mission, and more or less confirms she knew her before she went crazy.

Several pieces of official art -> Specter is associated with the phrase "All seas are singing your name".

Ceobe's Fungimist -> It's implied the cursed painting depicting the end times is the same confusing painting Specter painted in her Token.

Rosmontis' Files -> It's confirmed that Specter's spinal cord is filed to the brim with originium fluid, and the Medical Team theorizes that, just like Rosmontis, her infection was artificially induced. It also confirms that they have no idea how Specter is able to fight such an insanely high level of infection.

So, see, this has been a character that fans have really been clamoring to see again. The only cutscene Specter's ever been is the secret cutscene of Grani and the Knight's Treasure AKA the very first event in the game. Understandably, after two years of the game existing, people were a bit miffed that once again we just get breadcrumbs and a non-participation 'appearance', to say the least, in what's supposed to be her day in the limelight.

Now, personally, I kind of get how they are handling her, and the Operator Records are a very faithful reflection of this: Specter is meant to be this mysterious force that we don't have clearance to know about, as Kal'tsit herself is the only one authorized to treat her or even enter her containment quarters. And, in this regard, I think the Records succeed:

It all starts innocently with Suzuran drawing Specter in a Secret Santa and then having to start deep diving to find out who the hell even IS Specter, because absolutely no one knows of her. Eventually, Suzuran lucks out by asking Meteorite, who did participate in a mission with Specter once, to which Suzuran immediately reacts: "Hey hold on, don't they send you on pretty dangerous missions all the time?", and Meteorite's answer is, "Yeah, and she's right at home there."

Now, this is really interesting because we, as Doctor, have some level of clearance: We know things about Specter and can even converse with her to a certain degree, because Doctor is a high authority in Rhodes Island, but the average Operator, like Suzuran, Aosta and Chiave, doesn't even know of her existence. She's one of Rhodes Island's well kept secrets, even within Rhodes Island. Even Meteorite, a veteran Sarkaz mercenary and a bombardment expert, only knows about Specter in a need-to-know basis (because they deployed once together). More telling is the fact that Meteorite doesn't think she'd get along with Specter, simply based on the fact that, just on that one operation, the level of violence and carnage brought upon by Specter unnerved even her, a Kazdel Sarkaz veteran. Well, to be precise, it's not the sheer level of destruction that Specter is capable of that unnerved Meteorite, it's the fact that she does it all seemingly without a care in the world, expressionless, soundless, simply following orders to the letter without showing or taking in a single emotion. To paraphrase Meteorite, "someone that can unleash such destruction and violence upon others so easily, and that can then just not mind it in the slightest, has something wrong and concerning going on with them, no doubt".

Next up, we also learn that Folinic has very restricted, also on a need-to-know basis access to Specter. Keep in mind that Folinic is extremely competent and not at all a stranger to danger: She handles Phantom. So this is a huge hint: There's perhaps more to the secrecy regarding Specter than just her being a dangerous, unstable element. Folinic could reasonably handle Specter professionally, but it's not about whether she can or not, it's about information, and this brings us back to Grani and the Knight's Treasure: Kal'tsit makes it clear to Skadi that Specter is, as a whole, inaccessible to everyone but her, that only she has clearance to access Specter's quarters. Keep in mind that Skadi does not operate in the same conditions, despite also being an Abyssal Hunter. In fact, it's well known that Skadi is infamous among other Operators for being unreasonable and obstructive in operations, as well as unapproachable outside of them (unless you are Grani, who managed to successfully befriend Skadi and vouches for her). There's things about Specter that are so sensitive, so important, that Kal'tsit can't risk them getting out, and even using her as an Operator is something reserved for very dangerous operations. Not even Warfarin, senior staff and Operator that's been with Rhodes Island for a very long time, has full access to Specter, but she clearly knows the importance of keeping her under curtains, given she immediately diffused the Folinic-Suzuran situation by coming up with a compromise on the spot.

There's another interesting contrast between Files and the Operator Record: Meteorite describes Specter as "dead silent". Mind you, we knew from before, thanks to Specter's Files, that the shark is completely silent in battle, but we also do know that she incoherently rambles quite a lot. Folinic sheds some light onto this, explaining that Specter intentionally stays silent most of the time so as to not say anything that could be misunderstood when around others. When she's in a more private setting, however, she does let loose with the insane talk. This is confirmation of something that had been hinted at before: Even though she's insane, there's a fervent part of her clinging onto sanity for dear life with bloodied, splintered fingers, and it manifests itself in how she'll never harm an ally, and how Specter is, to a certain degree, aware of how far gone she is, and thus keeps her mouth shut around others that aren't Doctor or Kal'tsit, so as to not spook them out or accidentally threaten them with her insane rambling.

Then, at the very end, after Suzuran managed to get her present to her, Specter does in fact deliver a thank you present back to Suzuran: A music box, consistent with Specter's love for the arts. Of course, the gift might have been chosen by a proxy of hers (Skadi or Blue Poison, both known to also enjoy music), but the message is all the same: Specter clearly appreciated the gift, and was mentioned to see an improvement in her condition after receiving the doll Suzuran gave her.

So, in paper? All of this? I love it. Of course I do, she's my favorite character, and it was such a bold way to present her Record, too, I respect them trying out new things, it managed to capture the essence of "the mysterious, terrifying fighting machine Operator they don't want us to know about that's actually a pretty sweet and decent person, just going through some really hard stuff" that they've been going for with Specter, it's just, I can also understand (and agree with) fans because... It's been two years, bwahaha, let us see her again, you know? It's her Operator Record, we've gotten some VERY good insights into the lives and days of other Operators through those, like with Angelina's or Kroos'! Of course we also wanted something like that, bwahaha.

What I would've loved, and what I think would've made it all better with fans, is if the final scene had Specter actually show up in Suzuran's room like the cryptid she is, with Suzuran noting the security door had just sort of been casually pried open, Specter's perpetual smile on her face as she's holding her thank you gift before Warfarin and Folinic just sort of storm into the room like "DUDE, WE SAID YOU CAN'T--", she thanks Suzuran wordlessly, gently hands her the music box, and then she calmly turns back and walks back to her confinement quarters.

But, yeah, I've gone on for long enough. I appreciate it overall, knowing what's coming, and I appreciate the idea, I just think they could've handled it better, but the whole essence and message of it, I think lands pretty nicely.

#beta elekid #long post #arknights #specter

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timelesslords · 3 years

Note

prompts: could you write an in canon verse (so like gods and stuff are real) fic with amnesia? it could be post TLO or it could be one of them coming out of anesthesia and feeling wonky. i just love a good memory loss fic.

@halfbloodcarrie was instrumental in making this happen!!! Her adorable fluffy idea was completely paid dust in favor of making this angsty as hell but I blame her for me getting it done at all <3

read on AO3

Everything was dark. And everything hurt. His head especially was throbbing, but he couldn’t make out any other feeling. He could hear something; vague at first, just a ringing. But if he struggled, and he did, he could start to make out faint voices. His eyes refused to open, they wouldn’t even blink, but the noises were getting clearer by the second.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” a worried voice asked. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn’t even pry his eyes open, much less figure out who it belonged to.

“He’ll wake up,” a second voice said, male this time. He sounded confident, assured. At least he thought so.

“There was so much blood, I thought… gods.”

The first voice again, though this time it wavered. It sounded scared, terrified even.

“He’ll be alright, Annabeth. He’s got a thick skull.”

That made the first voice laugh, watery as it was.

“Don’t I know it.”

Some feeling was starting to return to his limbs, slowly but surely. He tried blinking again, but it felt sluggish, slow. Suddenly he realized he could feel his arms and fingers, and there was a hand in his, gripping it so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t felt it before.

“Percy?” the female voice asked, hopeful. He groaned. His head was pounding like nothing he’d ever felt before. Actually, he wasn’t sure if that was true, because he couldn’t remember his head pounding before, ever.

Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything at all.

He blinked again, this time managing to pry his eyelids open a fraction of a degree. The light streaming in hurt like a bitch, and he groaned again, closing his eyes.

“Percy,” the first voice said again, more frantically, “Can you hear me?”

She seemed to be talking to him, though he wasn’t quite sure. He couldn’t remember his name, but she’d said Percy twice, so that had to be it, didn’t it?

He tried to say something to the girl, but it came out as a strangled groan of pain.

“Will,” she said, a little desperately.

“He’s maxed out, Annabeth, I’m sorry,” the other voice said.

The girl (Annabeth?) muttered something under her breath in-- was that Greek? And how did he know that? More determined than ever, Percy blinked again, this time managing to crack his eyelids open and keep them that way.

His vision was blurry, but a few more blinks and the vague shapes in front of him started to sharpen into focus.

“Percy?” the girl said again. Percy squinted, trying to focus on her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was-- well, pretty didn’t quite describe it. She was seriously beautiful. Her eyes were a dark grey color, currently wide with concern, her hair framing her face in cascades of golden curls. Her nose was small and button shaped, dotted with freckles.

Even if Percy didn’t currently feel like a small blacksmith’s forge was hammering on the inside of his skull, he was pretty sure he would’ve been rendered pretty speechless.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. You were out for a while,” she said, smiling. She did look relieved, but Percy didn’t miss the genuine worry behind her eyes either, the little waver along her lips trying to maintain an upbeat expression.

“I… what’s going on?” Percy asked. Annabeth bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. Percy glanced upwards, properly seeing the other person in the room for the first time. He was a teenager, with shaggy blonde hair a shade or two lighter than the girl’s. He was wearing a white lab coat over what looked to be an orange t-shirt and jeans, which didn’t exactly instill Percy with a lot of confidence in whatever medical care he was receiving.

Of course, the fact that he had no memory didn’t help matters.

“You sort of got hit in the head,” Annabeth said, wincing as she did.

“Really hard,” the boy added.

Percy reached up tentatively, to the place where it felt like his skull was splitting inside out. Instead of skin he felt something else, some thick sort of fabric.

“Ow,” he said, a little unhelpfully. The girl smiled again-- crap, how was she even more beautiful when she smiled?-- but it still had an edge of sadness to it.

“Yeah. Discus accident,” she said.

“Discus accident?” Percy asked, confused.

“Yeah. Those stone frisbee things, remember?” the other guy said.

“No,” Percy said, pushing himself into a sitting position. It made his head throb, but he couldn’t stand lying down anymore. “I don’t-- I don’t remember anything.”

“You mean-- you mean you don’t remember the accident,” Annabeth said, a little forcefully. Her grey eyes flashed, and Percy didn’t quite recognize the expression, but something in his gut told him it was not good.

“No, I mean I don’t remember anything,” Percy repeated, figuring it was best to get it out of the way sooner or later, “I don’t know where I am or who you are or who I am.”

The girl took one very long look at him. He didn’t know what exactly he had said in particular that had triggered something in her, but the concern fell from her face in an instant. She dropped his hand, something sharp overtaking her expression.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” she said. Her voice was a little thick, but Percy couldn’t tell if she was crying, because in the next second she stood and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Inadvertently, Percy felt a twinge of something sad in his chest, though he couldn’t quite place why. He didn’t know Annabeth, but she clearly seemed to know him, and what he’d said had clearly set her off.

All of this was really not improving his headache, which had resumed its throbbing with reckless abandon.

“I didn’t mean to…” Percy trailed off. To what? Upset her? Make her run away? But all he’d done was tell the honest truth-- he couldn’t remember shit. The guy was giving him a look that was bordering on disgust.

“Dude, that’s really not funny,” he said. He sounded pissed, though if Percy wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a hint of fear behind his bright blue eyes.

“I’m not trying to be funny, I literally don’t know what’s going on,” Percy said, starting to feel a little frantic. Why was everyone here acting like they knew him? And why did he not even know him? He felt nerves and something else tugging in his gut, an insistent, terrifying pull--

Without warning, the glass next to his bed shattered, spraying water and glass everywhere. Percy flinched away from the table, whirling around to look at the boy. His eyes were wide and surprised.

“What the fuck was that?” Percy asked, alarmed.

“That was… you,” the boy said, staring at Percy like he had just grown a second head, “Styx, you’re not making this up, are you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know what’s going on for you to believe me?” Percy said, still staring wide-eyed at the place where the cup had shattered. For his own sanity, he decided to ignore the boy’s declaration that he had caused it.

“Four, apparently,” the boy said, rubbing his forehead like he could feel a headache coming on, “Unless you want to make it five for good measure?”

“I have absolutely no memory,” Percy repeated.

“Great. This is just-- this is awesome,” the boy said, sighing heavily.

“Yeah, I’m having so much fun over here,” Percy said dryly.

“Right, sorry,” the boy said, wincing, “Your name is Percy.”

So Percy had guessed that correctly. Good to know.

“My name is Will,” the boy continued, oblivious to Percy’s thoughts, “The girl was--”

“Annabeth,” Percy finished. Will perked up, hopeful, but Percy shook his head.

“I heard you say her name,” Percy explained. Will deflated.

“Oh, right,” he said. He sounded inordinately disappointed, way more disappointed than he’d been when Percy hadn’t remembered him.

“How exactly did this happen?” Percy asked, doing his best not to rub his forehead again. Will sighed.

“Some newbies were messing around with the discuses on the strawberry fields-- which is stupidly dangerous, by the way, we have an arena for a reason-- but it went a little off course and almost hit Annabeth in the face. You shoved her out of the way but it clipped your forehead pretty good.”

Percy tried to process all that, piece by piece. He didn’t know what a newbie was, and apparently wherever this place was had strawberry fields that he and Annabeth had been in together? But the strangest thing of all was that Percy didn’t feel at all surprised that he’d gotten injured trying to get Annabeth out of the way. That piece felt strangely right to him, even if everything else was messy and confusing.

“So me and Annabeth are friends, then?” he asked. Will gave him a strange look, his face paling slightly.

“You guys… you’re close. Really close.”

Percy nodded. That made sense. He didn’t know why Will was being weird about it, but he believed him regardless.

“She was mad at me,” Percy noted. At this, Will winced.

“Yeah. Memory loss… it's kind of a sore subject for her.”

“Why?” Percy asked. Maybe it was a little invasive, but this was all stuff he was supposed to know anyway, wasn’t it?

Will sighed, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Gods, I’m so not the person to be explaining this to you,” he said, “But a few years ago you sort of… disappeared. And you lost all your memories. Except you remembered her. But it was really, really tough on her, she had no idea if you were gonna know anything or not when she found you.”

Percy blinked, trying to take all that in. He had a feeling that was the hyper-condensed version of what had gone down, but it explained the situation well enough. Annabeth hadn’t considered the fact that he genuinely wouldn’t remember her, so she’d assumed it was a bad joke. Percy wished it was a bad joke, because he would give absolutely anything to remember more about her.

“Got it,” Percy said, trying not to frown, “So how did I get my memories back last time? Can we do that again?”

Will grimaced.

“I think last time you drank gorgon’s blood, but we’re fresh out of that.”

Percy stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. He looked serious, but Percy didn’t want to press it. Clearly last time had been a different sort of deal.

“So what do we do? I can’t go around like this forever.”

“Well, hopefully it's just temporary. Your head injury, plus the mortal pain meds we gave you, plus the nectar--”

“The what?” Percy asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, a little hurriedly. “The point is, your brain is processing a lot of stuff right now. My best guess is that it overloaded a bit, and the amnesia is a side effect. If that’s the case it should go away on its own eventually.”

“And if it’s not the case?” Percy asked, dreading the answer a little. As predicted, WIll grimaced again.

“It could be from the initial injury. In which case it would be… more permanent.”

Percy’s mouth went a little dry.

“Goodie.”

“It probably isn’t,” Will said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“So what do we do?” Percy asked again.

“You could try going to sleep. It might give your brain a chance to readjust, chill out a little. Or…”

Will trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish his thought.

“Or?” Percy prompted.

“Or we could try to jog your memory with stuff you might remember,” Will finished. Percy didn’t understand why this option seemed to be so unpleasant to Will, since it made the most sense to him. He felt disoriented as hell, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to calm his mind down enough to sleep anytime soon. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d been unconscious for a good long while.

“How long was I asleep just now?” Percy asked.

“A while,” Will admitted.

“So let’s try the other thing.”

Will swallowed heavily, his fingers gripping the sides of his white coat a little too tightly.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, still not sounding happy about it at all, “I’ll-- ugh. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Percy did not move, mostly because he didn’t think he could get up from his bed if he tried. Being alone gave him the chance to observe the room he was in a little bit. It was small but clean, sort of a cross between a normal bedroom and a hospital unit. The walls were made of old looking hardwood, and if he craned his head back a little bit he could almost see out the window. It looked green out there, but it was kind of hard to tell.

Nothing about this place felt familiar, but that didn’t mean much, given nothing Percy had experienced since waking up felt familiar.

Nothing except for those few flashes of feeling he’d gotten about Annabeth, anyway.

Will was gone for a long time, a lot longer than Percy had been expecting. He couldn’t tell time very well and he didn’t see a clock anywhere, but it felt like Will had to have been gone at least half an hour, maybe more. Just when Percy was about to give up and try taking a nap, the door opened again. Will was there, but this time Annabeth was in tow too.

Percy tried not to read too hard into the fact that she didn’t look happy to be there. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, though now they were narrowed in barely constrained anger, her arms folded over her chest.

Will, for his part, looked extremely nervous. That didn’t give Percy a lot of hope about how this was going to go.

“It would probably work better if you could get up and walk around, but well…” he trailed off, but Percy knew exactly why that wasn’t possible. Just keeping his eyes open had been a struggle, and he was pretty sure if he tried to stand right now he was gonna black out.

“Yeah, sounds like a bad idea,” he agreed. Annabeth said nothing, just kept staring with her jaw clenched tight.

“I figured-- you know, you remembered Annabeth last time,” Will said, still sounding nervous, “And you guys have known each other for years, so if anything is going to jog your memory… well.”

“Okay,” Percy said, easily.

Annabeth remained silent.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Will said, looking like he absolutely couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He did a second later, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

Annabeth looked extraordinarily unhappy to be there. Any care that she had displayed for him when he first woke up was apparently gone. She said nothing as she looked at him with nothing but ice in her eyes.

He didn’t know why exactly she was so pissed-- it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember anything, and wouldn’t it be worse for him anyway? But she didn’t seem keen on speaking to him anytime soon, and Percy figured it was up to him to break the ice.

“So, um. Are you single?” Percy asked. It was dumb, sure, but he didn’t remember shit, and this girl was pretty and she seemed to care about him and well? Might as well shoot his shot.

Annabeth muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like I’m going to kill you. Cool. Definitely did not make her hotter to him, not even a little bit.

“I’m not single,” she said, practically glaring at him.

“Got it. Sorry,” Percy said. For just a second her eyes ducked away, sadness replacing anger. But then she looked back up, and her previous expression was reinstated.

“Why don’t we just stick to you,” she said.

“Sure,” Percy said. He didn't want to make her mad again, because he had a feeling if that kept happening it would not end well for him. He wasn’t sure what could be worse than complete and total amnesia, but looking at Annabeth he was pretty sure she could think of something.

She took a deep breath, a little unsteadily.

“Your name is Percy,” she said, “I guess Will already told you that, though.”

Percy nodded. She moistened her lips, staring down at the ground.

“Okay. What else do you want to know?”

“Where are we?” Percy asked. It wasn’t his most urgent question, but it felt like a safer one to ask. Then again, from the look on Annabeth’s face, maybe that was a miscalculation. She was biting her lip, the anger in her expression softening slightly. It seemed to be replaced by something sad though, and Percy found he almost preferred the anger.

“It’s… a little hard to explain. But we’re at a camp. A summer camp. It’s-- it’s where we met.”

“Why are we here now?” Percy asked. Annabeth shrugged.

“We’re just visiting,” she said.

“Together?” Percy asked. She stared at him, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah. Together,” she said, though she was clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Okay then. Time for a new line of questioning. A safer line, one that hopefully wouldn’t put her on the verge of tears.

“What’s my favorite color?” he asked.

“Blue,” she said, instantly.

“Favorite food?”

“Anything blue,” she said, just as fast.

“I eat blue food?” Percy asked, confused. She smiled for the first time since he’d told her his memory was gone. It was small, but it still made his heart flutter.

“Yeah. It’s sort of an inside joke with you and your mom,” she said. The smile faded just as fast as it had come, but her answer had inadvertently given Percy more information than he’d expected.

“So I’m close to my mom?” Percy asked, unable to help it. Annabeth nodded again. She took a tentative step forward, sitting back down on the chair beside his bed.

“Who else?” he asked, without thinking. Annabeth frowned, a little confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean--” Percy started, realizing this might be a little too much too soon, but wanting to know so badly he couldn’t help but ask anyway, “I mean, who else am I close to?”

Annabeth didn’t answer for a long minute. She was looking down at the ground again, her hands gripping her own shoulders, arms shielding her chest. She seemed to be contemplating something, though what it was, Percy wasn’t sure.

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question. Maybe it was too personal-- with a start Percy realized that Annabeth was probably a pretty high priority for him, given the scant details he knew about their relationship, and him not knowing that intrinsically had to hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “Just forget it, tell me something else.”

She finally looked back up at him, though she still seemed upset and unsure.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, though she was clearly forcing her voice not to waver, “Like I said, you’re close to your mom, her name is Sally. You have a sister named Estelle and a brother named Tyson. And your best friend is--” she stumbled, but found herself again, “His name is Grover.”

Percy noticed that Annabeth’s own name was conspicuously absent from that list. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, all things considered, but his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know this more than anything.

“What about you?” he asked, voice quiet.

It took her less time to answer than he expected, but she was still quiet for a minute.

“You asked me if I was single,” she said finally, eyes ducked down, a rosy blush growing in her cheeks, “And I said no because-- because we’re dating. We have been for a while.”

“Oh,” Percy said. He could feel his own face getting red, even though this was kind of great news-- or maybe not so great news, considering his stupid brain still couldn’t remember shit. But it still felt right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Of course he was dating her. That was just correct, an inalienable fact he felt dumb for not knowing, despite not knowing anything at all.

“Yeah,” she said, “But you don’t remember, so… so I don’t know anymore, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, and he felt it. He felt like an idiot, both for trying to flirt with her earlier, and for not putting the pieces together sooner. The hand holding probably should have given it away, at the very least.

To his surprise, Annabeth gave him a small smile, even though her eyes were a little red. She wiped them on her sleeve, clearly trying not to do it in an obvious way.

“Sorry, it’s just-- that’s so you,” she said, sniffling a little.

“What’s so me?” Percy asked. He felt stupid, oblivious, but she just smiled again, a touch wider this time.

“Apologizing for something that isn’t even your fault.”

“I really am sorry,” Percy said, and he felt worse with every word, “I want to remember, I do, it’s just-- all of it’s gone.”

“I know,” she said. She sounded defeated. “I guess it would be too much to ask for you to remember me twice, huh?”

She said it like a joke, but Percy could feel the real pain behind her words. He felt an ache in his chest, like a phantom pain he couldn’t quite place, something in him mirroring her own hurt. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.

Or maybe he did. His brain was a jumbled mess, but he did know the only things that had made him feel anything since he’d woken up had to do with her.

“I… I almost get flashes,” he admitted, glancing up at her again. She wasn’t quite meeting his eye, looking somewhere over his shoulder, but he continued anyway. “When you say or do things… It’s like my body knows what to feel but my mind doesn’t know why.”

She glanced up, her eyes finally meeting his own. They were still shining with tears, though not as intensely as before.

“Like how?” she asked, simply. Percy swallowed heavily, not exactly sure what to say. It was hard to describe, given he’d barely recognized his own feelings.

“Like… like when you left, before. I was upset but I didn’t know why. I didn’t know you but I knew… I knew that was supposed to hurt, somehow. And when Will told me about how I got hurt in the first place, how I was trying to keep the frisbee thing from hitting you-- that felt right, but I don’t know why.”

She had graduated to crying in earnest now, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Percy felt the inexplicable urge to reach out and brush them away, but he knew he couldn’t. And that hurt too for some reason, a hollow aching in his chest he couldn’t quite place even though the reason for it was standing right in front of him.

“And right now,” Percy continued, even though maybe he shouldn’t, “You’re upset and I just feel this urge to do something, and I can’t because I don’t know how.”

“Percy, please--” she said, still crying, her voice rough with tears. He didn’t know what she was begging for, but he couldn’t help his next words slipping out, like his tongue knew more what to do than his mind.

“I don’t know anything about me, but I know-- I know I love you. I can feel it. I’m not just saying it either, I swear I can feel it.”

“Percy,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper this time.

“You have to help me, Annabeth. I don’t know what to do,” he said, and this time it was his turn for his voice to get thick, a lump in his throat obscuring his words.

“I--” she started, swallowing heavily, eyes welling with tears again, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do,” Percy said, and he was sure she did, something in him just knew, “You always do, don’t you?”

That felt right too, even if he couldn’t place why, but it seemed to mean more to her than to him. She stared at him, eyes wide and scared. She was so close now, close enough that he could see every freckle on her nose.

Annabeth looked so panicked that for a second a second, Percy thought she was going to hit him, but then she did the opposite. She leaned over and kissed him.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and she tasted like strawberries and salt. His lips seemed to know exactly what to do, moving against hers like they’d kiss her a thousand times-- and maybe they had. His hand moved, almost of its own accord to her hair, tangling in it, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer--

And then it hit him. The scent of her shampoo, lemony and sharp and familiar.

He gasped, not meaning to, but she pulled back, grey eyes wide.

“Percy?” she asked, hopeful even as she tried to hide it.

“Annabeth,” he said, trying not to panic as things started to float through his mind-- more than things, memories. Her face and her voice and her words, the feeling of her hand in his and her smile against his lips, it all started to flood back like it had never left.

“Are you--” she asked, her hands on his shoulders, gripping tight, too tight, but he didn’t even care.

“Annabeth,” he breathed, saying her name like a revelation, because it was, “You’re Annabeth Chase, you’re my girlfriend and an architect and you’re scared to death of spiders and you still sleep with a teddy bear--”

She cut him off at that last point, throwing her arms around him and hugging him harder than she ever had-- except for maybe that time she’d thought he was dead for two weeks and he’d crashed his own funeral. Percy hugged her back just as hard, because he actually remembered that.

It hadn’t all come back-- things were blurry, most things, actually. But Annabeth at least felt clear in his mind, a shining beacon welcoming the rest of his memories back. He was already starting to get a headache again, but he didn’t care. They would come back. And even if they didn’t-- he had her. That was enough.

She pulled back from her bone crushing embrace, keeping their faces so close their noses were almost touching. She seemed scared that if she pulled away he might too, even though he had no intention of doing so, physically or mentally.

“So you’re back? Really?” she asked, sounding scared to know the answer.

“Sort of,” Percy confirmed, wincing as he did. He really was starting to get a pounding headache. “I remember you. And bits and pieces of other things, but mostly you.”

Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a long moment.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she whispered, her hands trailing up his neck, just barely scraping his hair.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathed. And he did know, now better than ever. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he’d woken up without his memory, but he knew every minute of it had to have been hell for her.

Annabeth sighed, pulling back further, so he could see her whole face. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her cheeks were still flushed from their kiss. But he could see the barest traces of humor in her expression, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth where a smile was being repressed.

“What?” he asked, but she just shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said, but her smile had grown.

“Come on, I just had amnesia. You have to tell me.”

She laughed, a light tinkling sound. It was just on the edge of being hysterical, but she deserved it, after the day she’d been having.

“Fine. I was just thinking-- Hera couldn’t make you forget me but a glorified frisbee could?” Annabeth said.

“Hey, it was heavy!” Percy protested, but he couldn’t help but grin as he did. He would probably stay grinning for the rest of his life, actually.

“You’re such an idiot,” she breathed, pulling him into a hug again, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Percy said, hugging her back. And now he knew he did, in a permanent, tangible way.

There was still a lot missing, but he had the most important bits down. His name was Percy Jackson. He was twenty years old, and in college and a demigod, and lots of other things that would surely return with time.

And he loved Annabeth Chase more than anything in the world.

#this is so cheesy and so long <3 #bon apple teeth #percabeth #percy jackson #percabeth fic #pjo #annabeth chase #pjo fic #percabeth fanfic #i already have more prompts in my inbox than i will realistically every finish #so on a technical level i am not taking more #but if you send one and i like it i might write it anyway lmao #no guarantees though!!

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asterekmess · 3 years

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Did you ever watch Buffy? The first episode where Anya was introduced was titled "The Wish" and all I can think about is if Scott McCall had ever run into a pure Sidhe where they offered him a wish. Instead of, "I wish Buffy had never come to Sunnydale." It would be more, "I wish I was never bitten to become a werewolf." But just like all feaye tricks, the outcome is more, his Dad ended up with primary custody rather than his Mom and he was forced to leave BH. And then Stiles ended up more friends with Heather and others. And while Scott's life is worse, when he tracks down the others he finds all of theirs are greatly improved.

I think about it a lot and how Scott never really dealt with the consequences of any of his actions, everyone else did, and how an episode or mini-arc could have fixed a flaw in the show's design. I mean, we were already dealing with a lot of Celtic lore, why not someone from the Sidhe courts?

I have no idea why this took me so long to answer, so apologies for that. <3 I did watch buffy! I've seen all of it, and all of Angel as well. XD

I remember 'The Wish' episode, and whoooo boy it gave me chills. I loved how big the butterfly effect was, how something that seemed so small, something that Genuinely seemed to be the cause of a lot of problems in Sunnydale, ended up being so important to how things had progressed. Because, yeah, you would think Buffy not coming to Sunnydale would be a Good Thing, right? Sunnydale didn't have all of these insane issues before she arrived. It was quiet, and nothing big or scary ever happened. Her arrival matches perfectly with when everything started going absolutely nuts, so whatever selfish ideas Cordelia had, her thought that Buffy not coming to Sunnydale would be a good thing, makes sense. Except that, as she finds out, she's entirely wrong. Buffy's arrival was a lucky coincidence, or fate, whatever your taste leans toward. She showed up right as things started going nuts, and she kept it from going SO MUCH MORE NUTS.

Now, moving on to TW, it is a fascinating mix of being the Exact same situation, and the exact Opposite. I'll add a Read More, cus' holy god is this a lot of Rambling.

Because Scott wishing not to have been bitten...yeah, the bite Did improve things. But it improved things for him. He would absolutely regret making the wish, just like Cordelia did, because he would realize how many good things the bite had brought with it. BUT, conversely, he would have to realize how many good things the bite had brought for him, not for other people, and how their lives either wouldn't have been affect, or might've even Improved without him being bitten. Without the bite, Scott wouldn't have gotten on first line, period. His health issues made very clear in the five minutes he had them that any kind of stamina based sport was just out of the question for him. If he is unable to walk through the woods at a moderate pace without needing to grab his inhaler and stop against a tree, he just plain cannot play lacrosse for two or three hours of running at high speeds and working a bunch of muscles in his upper body. He likely wouldn't have gone out with Allison, because he would have no convenient way to get her attention. Furthermore, he wouldn't have the extra senses that both impressed her on the lacrosse field, and told him about her 'family dinner' the night of Lydia's party. (I've discussed this before, but... While it's true, Allison would have still brought him the dog; that dog would likely have attacked him, and his chances with her would have been shot in the foot when they both got in massive trouble and he likely had to go to the ER for stitches or something. Without Allison or first line, he wouldn't have started hanging out with the 'cool kids,' and quite frankly, wouldn't have had anyone to help him study for the classes he was struggling with. It's true that he also wouldn't have had werewolf things to worry about, or even a girlfriend to distract him from homework, so maybe that wouldn't have been such a huge issue, but still.

If we look at other people's lives and how They would have been affected by Scott not getting the bite...well, let's talk about that.

Stiles didn't get on first line because of Scott, or because of a werewolf bite. Or even because of the werewolf bullshittery occurring in town. He was put on first line because of his abilities, and even after being taken OFF first line for missing the game, he was put Right onto the field in the next game, chosen OVER other players who were perfectly viable options. Which means, he still would've ended up on first line. Allison wasn't interested in dating before she met Scott, and part of her draw to him was based on how 'different' he was. He knew things she didn't know how he could know, he had a weird ability to calm a furious, injured dog, and he had charisma that was ALSO gained from the bite, since being on first line made Scott Much more self-confident. If she didn't end up dating him, it's likely she wouldn't have dated at all. Which would mean no hiding from her parents, no strange conflicts of interest, AND, interestingly enough --depending on her involvement in the murders, etc that would still be occurring in town--no night in the school that would scare her bad enough to ask Kate for extra help and tip her headfirst into hunter training. AND, even if she DID still end up getting those lessons from Kate? There would be no bitterness to fuel her behavior at the end of season 1.

Allison was Traumatized after Kate showed her Derek on the grate. She was horrified, and didn't know what to do about it, and while we can ramble all we want about the morality of her not confronting her family (whom she's just discovered is willing to electrocute people) about it, the fact is that she pushed the thoughts aside to stop freaking out and went to that dance. Where she found out Scott was a werewolf, and was So fucking Betrayed that she was willing to help Kate catch him and Derek. No Scott, no betrayal, no willingness to help Kate recapture the miserable man who'd been chained up in a basement.

If we go back to that specific night, and try to unfold the events from there if Scott hadn't been bitten, things get a little complicated, but I'll take a few artistic liberties. Scott isn't bitten. Presumably, he just happens to get out of the woods in time, or he gets caught with Stiles by the sheriff, or doesn't go to the woods in the first place. These all change the possible outcomes of that night. If he hadn't gone in the first place, and Stiles went alone, would he have been bitten instead? Would Scott have been dragged into all of this anyway, but without the protection and boost of being a werewolf and cured of his asthma? If he weren't the one bitten, and he saw everything Stiles gained from it, would he still have such a hatred for the bite? Or would he want it, like Erica did, to cure him and make him powerful and cool? But, let's assume Stiles doesn't get bitten either. The second half of Laura's body still hasn't been found, and Stiles has no reason to fear running back into the preserve the next day, and no real punishment from his father as far as we can tell. So, does he go back to look again? If he did, he would run into Derek, because Derek would still be there after retrieving Laura's body himself. He would see Derek and still recognize him, and from there, things might spiral, still involving Stiles in the supernatural, and it's likely Stiles would try to involve Scott, and Again we get hit with "Would Scott want the bite, if he hadn't gotten forcibly bitten in the first place?" The answer is probably yes. He wanted to be cool, and popular, and on the lacrosse team. He wanted everything being a werewolf gave him. BUT if we're looking at this wish as similar to "The Wish," then no matter what, Scott won't be bitten. He'll be transported to a new world where it just never happened, and he'll be human, and forced to watch everyone around him be just plain different. Scott not being bitten would isolate him from Stiles, if Stiles got involved in the spn anyway. We SAW how Stiles cut off his other friends once the spn starting getting in the way. He and Harley? We have no clue how close they were. They were close enough for her to tease him about his crush on Lydia, for her to wander up comfortably to the locker and talk to them. And he cut her off as soon as the werewolf stuff hit. What if he cut Scott off? To protect him, if nothing else, like he did his own father. Once he realized the danger involved, I doubt he would be willing to put Scott in harm's way.

So, Scott would not only lose first line, lose his girlfriend, lose his popularity, lose his health and strength and heightened abilities, lose his 'importance' to the goings-on of Beacon Hills, but he would also lose Stiles, who seems to have been his only friend, unless he also had a relationship with Harley.

Okay, I've rambled enough about the what if's, so let's talk about the Reason why this wish would go so badly for Scott, in such a different way than it went for Cordelia. Cordelia, first off, wished that someone Else would not have/do something, rather than wishing for herself not to have done something. She watches how fucked up the world gets, and how much worse her life is without Buffy around to save the day. Scott wished for Himself not to have done something (even something passive, like 'get bitten') and would have to watch how fucked up his world gets, and how far behind he would fall. The other's lives might not necessarily get better, because Peter is still on the loose, and the hunters are still there, etc etc, but they would still Progress, while Scott would stay stagnant.

And WHY is that? Because Scott isn't important to the story. It DOESN'T start with him. That's the Whole Point of his character. He is supposed to be the 'everyman' who gets dragged into crazy shit and becomes integral to things that he wasn't ever meant to be a part of. The guy who wanders into becoming King or 'The Hero' that will save the world, even though he's just a small lad from a tiny town, whose highest prospects were "get on first line."

He was NEVER supposed to be Buffy, or if he was, it was done Very Badly.

But Beacon Hills WASN'T a quiet town before Scott was bitten; however much he might've said 'nothing ever happens in this town.' It was FULL of bullshittery and magic from the very beginning. There was the fire, and Paige, and the blinding of Deucalion, and the death of Alexander Argent, and the Nogitsune in the internment camp nearby. All of these things were around So much longer than Scott's bite, and they'd been affecting the world that whole time too. Because yes, in Buffy, the master was There before she was, but he was literally rendered inert by the situations he was in. And the things he'd done happened Centuries before, not six years. There is a difference. Sunnydale was Not Known for the insane number of weird deaths. Beacon Hills was. And aside from the Nogitsune, every single fucking thing that happened in Beacon Hills, was attuned to the Hale family in one way or another. Deucalion's blinding occurred during a meeting on Hale land, because Talia was known as a wise leader, etc, in the area and other wolves flocked to her. Deucalion biting Argent seems unrelated (if you even believe Deucalion did that, despite being a fucking pacifist before Gerard blinded him), but again, it occurs just a couple hours away from Beacon Hills, which is Hale Territory. The one who plays the Buffy role here? Who shows up at just the right time, and launches themself against an endless wave of evil, with slightly enhanced senses and a thorough need to do good and not back away from things that 'aren't they're problem'? The actual hero who is somehow tied to everything going on in ways even they don't understand? Was Derek. The guy who entirely unwittingly allowed Julia Baccari to survive, because he was trying to be merciful to his first love. Who entirely unwittingly was manipulated into giving up information that let a hunter kill his family. Who followed his sister back to town after six years of just trying to survive in New York, fell into a fucking tragedy, and decided to stop the bad guys anyway, even though he knew he didn't stand a fucking chance.

And as annoyed as some might get. The 'everyman' who stumbles onto the set and accidentally becomes integral to the saving of the world? The one whose ambitions are small and who expectations are smaller? Who is misunderstood, and has abilities that aren't recognized or appreciated, that doesn't really fit in, but tries their best anyway? The literal Angel to Derek's Buffy?

Is fucking Stiles. The son of the sheriff who just could not let it go when he discovered there was something funky going on. Who hung around on the edges, even though he wasn't really wanted, because he needed to help. Who ended up saving Derek's life over and over, and becoming so important as to be Derek's anchor? Who literally WENT DARKSIDE and HAD TO BE NEARLY KILLED, even though Derek didn't to kill him???

I know how it sounds, but JD SAID he took inspiration from Buffy. The issue is that his parallels are between DEREK AND STILES, and BUFFY AND ANGEL. Respectively.

Derek might act like the broody bad boy, but it is STILES' mentality that matches Angel's behavior, and it's Derek who matches Buffy.

I'm so fucking off track. Scott would be miserable if he ever managed to get a wish and used it to keep from having been bitten. And it would be sad. I would feel bad for him, had I watched something like that happen. Seeing him realize that most of the good things he had, he only got because of the bite. That Stiles would still be on first line, that Lydia and Jackson would still be the popular kids. That Allison wouldn't know he existed, or if she did would avoid him entirely. That Jackson would never have been turned into the kanima in the first place. That everyone else would move on and up in life, and he would still be standing at the bottom step. Because it wasn't his actual limitations that were holding him back, it was his refusal to accept them, to work with them, and to just plain stop Envying Everyone Around him, and start living his own fucking life instead of trying to steal other people's.

Scott wishes he were Cordelia, and I promise that would backfire too.

#personal #anti-Scott McCall #meta ramblings #go for it #this is way too long #but i had feelings #the more you guys made me talk about this #the more I want to write a Buffy fusion #or a tw rewrite with Scott not being bitten #or fucking Both #or both Combined #SOMETHING

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