#LIKE are you saying a twelve year old is evil because hes selfish . are you really saying thst | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theheirofthesharingan · 7 months ago

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Okay, so I never sneak into other people's posts to write disagreements but every damn thing written here is so factually incorrect that I have to break my own rules. I might delete this post later on, but I have to say some things that need to be said, because they've been around in the fandom for so long that I wonder if people really just like to use critical thinking to analyse Itachi or not or it's just the BS they view on reddit and Quora and think it's the actual truth.

but Itachi was (as always) irreconcilably selfish.

Far from it. There is some kind of inherent selfishness to him but it comes from his desire to watch Sasuke live because he thinks death is bad, not because death would be worse than what he put Sasuke through. And he'd been exposed to extreme, unnatural violence from a very young age. They lived in a world where saving missions for the military nation was much more important than saving lives of the comrades.

Itachi showed Sasuke no mercy, literally tortured the 6 year old psychologically emotionally and physically for what amounted to days for Sasuke

Completely incorrect. The first time torture did not last for days. The twelve year old Sasuke couldn't handle 24 hours Tsukuyomi, but people suggest 7 (not 6) y/o Sasuke was capable of enduring the torture that "amounted for days." How was it possible that this 7 year old Sasuke, after being tortured by Itachi "for days," ran out of the house, screaming, then chased after Itachi, also threw kunai at him to prevent him before collapsing, but at twelve years he couldn't handle it at all? This math doesn't work for me.

all in the pursuit of fufilling his own long term-suicide plan, and Sasuke was literally half-possessed and still only hurts Naruto out of hunted necessity.

Wrong. Again.

Itachi's reasoning to die at Sasuke's hands was much more than just his "suicide plan":

Itachi committed the genocide not because he thought it was the right thing to do, but because it was the only option he was given at the young age of 12. No, he wasn't wrong or selfish for wanting to be punished for his crimes. Yes, he's human too and, yes, he's very much allowed to react to his circumstances in his own way.

Danzo's confirmation to Obito's truth:

This man clearly threatened him that if Sasuke were to ever learn the truth, he would go against Konoha, and would get killed. Many people suggest Itachi should have "just left Sasuke" and "murdering his clan would have convinced Sasuke Itachi was so evil", when this is Sasuke after Itachi's put him in his Tsukuyomi.

Sasuke would contiue to search for answers if Itachi didn't convince him of him being an irredeemable evil in Sasuke's eyes. And we know what Sasuke wanted to do after he learned the truth. Why would Itachi want Sasuke to be dead?

Dying at Sasuke's hands and his "suicide mission" wasn't even necessary because Itachi must have contracted his illness after the massacre. He wanted Sasuke to stay out of the village and the clan politics because he'd rather not have Sasuke be tainted like the rest.

but Itachi did it to manipulate Sasuke into being physically incapable of ever thinking about anything else and Sasuke did it to silently beg Naruto to move on.

Itachi did it because, unlike Sasuke, he had seen the truth of the Shinobi world with all its ugliness. His wrong decisions don't come from the place of "irreconcilable" selfishness or malice or viewing Sasuke as a lesser human being. It comes from him wanting Sasuke to see only him as the bad guy in the picture, because no one else wronged Sasuke like he did, albeit unwillingly. Like I stated above, living in the Shinobi world with trauma and violence consuming all of your formative years, Itachi's reactions and actions are in sync with how he lived. And he is allowed to be human. His actions don't have to be right or justified. He doesn't think he's justified, so there's that.

Anyway.

The above analysis of Itachi and Sasuke — while I agree with you a lot on Sasuke's parts — consists of the regular logical fallacy I see in this fandom while analysing Itachi. You use in abundance the Reason and Consequence to assess Sasuke and his actions, but you completely omit the Reason to assess Itachi. Your entire argument is based on the disastrous outcomes Itachi's actions brought, when there's ample evidence to prove it isn't as black and white for Itachi as people make it out to be.

Sasuke reacts to his circumstances and people around him in a different way from Itachi's, because his life was different from his brother's. Itachi had to make impossible decisions, stand by them, protect his lies, because if he didn't, things would become even worse. Ultimately, whichever path he took, he had to be the responsible figure in this. It took his death for Akatsuki to attack Konoha and Sasuke learning his truth.

I'll never understand this fandom's obsession with comparing both the brothers and painting Itachi as some kind of selfish evil bastard, ignoring all the things already explained in canon that show a lot more is at work than just good/bad to him. And that anything he does is not independent of what he's believed and brought up with.

WAIT. something about the cycle of violence and Sasuke being atomically comprised of love love love and Itachi's and Sasuke's parallels on their way out of the village. Something about how they both had to leave Konoha for their own reasons and were their worst selves in those moments, but Itachi was (as always) irreconcilably selfish. He kills his parents, and then he waits for Sasuke to come home. Sasuke tries to sneak out without a word, and when he's caught he thanks Sakura knocks her out painlessly and lays her on a bench. Itachi showed Sasuke no mercy, literally tortured the 6 year old psychologically emotionally and physically for what amounted to days for Sasuke, all in the pursuit of fufilling his own long term-suicide plan, and Sasuke was literally half-possessed and still only hurts Naruto out of hunted necessity.

Something about 'you have hidden potential, that's why I allow you to live. for my sake' vs. 'I spared you on a whim.' and lying while also telling the truth to come off as more cold and calculated and irredeemable, but Itachi did it to manipulate Sasuke into being physically incapable of ever thinking about anything else and Sasuke did it to silently beg Naruto to move on.

#i never thought i'll have to go in the uchiha brothers tag to find itachi slander but what's new about this #itachi #sasuke #uchiha brothers

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visd3stele · 3 years ago

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magic and kids

summary:

A/N: I really hope you like it. Thank you for your requests. Loved writing it.

art credit: @phantomrin

TW: none

@britishbookworm2 requested (if you want to leave a request as well, click)

masterlist

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

It's been four years since Taryn decided the mortal world would be a more suitable place to raise her child than Elfhame. Even if her sister was now High Queen, the fairies would still make life hard for her and her baby. Maybe not on purpose, she admits it. But magic runs wild, free and unstoppable. Used to it, the Fae Folk barely notices the dangers. And frankly, they don't care. Not allowed to use it on humans as cruelly as before, some meaner courts claim innocent ignorance. How can an entire society of enchanted beings change overnight? How could they be expected to adjust to human fragility all of a sudden?

So Taryn took her baby, promised her sister to visit and fled to Heather and Vivi's. It wasn't as hard as she'd thought. Getting used to the mortal world, that's it. And if her baby had longer canine than normal, or his ears sharpened to pointy edges to the top, it passed unnoticed. Her son certainly didn't stood out the way Vivi did, even with light brown eyes that looked orange in the sun and rusty red hair. He didn't need much glamouring either, not like Oak, Oriana or Madoc. By the time she sent him to preschool his hair was long enough to cover the ears and no one seemed to notice the teeth even without magic.

For all the talk Taryn did on how she wanted her son to be free of his father in all ways, snapping at Oak when the boy tried to teach him magic before he knew how to properly walk and forbidding her family to bring Fairyland up, she named him Renard.

Fitting, though not what she should have done. Maybe part of her can't let Locke go, not entirely. She knew he didn't particularly wanted the baby, that everything he promised her were pretty lies. But for a few months, it has been real. Their marriage, their love, their lives. She saw her dreams come true, one after another: the mistress of an important household, throwing parties for courtiers, motherhood.

Now that everything she wanted snaped broken in tiny little pieces carried away by harsh winter wind, Taryn Duarte couldn't phantom having her child become like his father.

"It has nothing to do with magic, for fuck's sake!" Vivi exploded once, after Taryn better than not threw Oak and Oriana - who came to visit - out of the apartment for trying to reach Renard's magic. "He won't become a sly, selfish fox if he can change appearance or grow horses out of leaves. It's all about his up-bringing!"

"I want him to be normal, Vivi! That's why I took him here!"

Renard has been barely one year old when the argument happened. But it was enough to take his mother's words to heart.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Four years old Renard and twelve years old Oak played outside, jumping in crusty piles of autumn leaves. The princeling hadn't given up his plans to teach his cousin magic. He refused to let go of such opportunity: a friend he didn't have to hide of, one he could play with like he used to in Elfhame.

"Hey, Ren-Ren," Oak said, "check this out!" The older boy held up his hand, brows furrowed in concentration, lip grazed between his teeth. Nothing happened for an alarming amount of time. And then... the leaves twirl around the two cousins, splashing then with guts of wind and scarce dew as it swept them up in a friendly tornado.

Renard chuckled in delight, stretching to catch some of the closer leaves. But as soon as he touched one, the whole thing fell apart. "No!" Do it again, Oak. Do it again."

"I'm sorry, Ren-Ren," Oak faked a yawned and laid on the ground. "Magic is very serious business. Very consuming. I'm too tired to even move." He let his eyes close dramatically, watching Renard between his lashes. Truth be told, every time he did magic Oak felt good. Vibrant. As if the earth itself reached out and gave him life. But Renard didn't need to know that yet. He can definitely learn it by himself if Oak's plan works out.

The younger boy pouted and dropped on the ground. "Not fair," he muttered to himself.

"You know, Ren-Ren, you're half fae. That means there's a pretty good chance you're magic too."

"No, I'm not."

"You can't know that. Come on, give it a try!"

"No, Oak! I'm not magic. I'm not like Father, I'm like Mom. Like Mom, just like that."

Oak straightened himself, but didn't rose from the ground. "Ok, Ren-Ren. Listen up. Magic is not bad. It's fun. Don't you think it's fun?"

"Yes!" Renard nodded enthusiastically. "It's super fun. When you do it, Oak." At that the named boy own enthusiasm faded away in an instant.

"Thank you, Ren-Ren," he deadpanned. "But do you know what's more fun than watching me practice magic?" Not giving the kid a chance to answer, to even take in the question, really, Oak said "To do it yourself."

"Do you really think I should try, Oak?" Clearly, the little boy was attracted to magic. And clearly something was stopping him. But his older cousin slowly made whatever that was seem less big and scary, dragging him along in his qualms.

"Totally!"

Renard pushed his lips forward with his tongue, sticking it out through the gap in his teeth. Caramel eyes shone with desire, his red hair flown around by a cold, pleasant wind. "Ok," he gave in, as expected. "How do I do it?"

The smirk that lightened up Oak's face can only be describes as evil. Though no ill intention hid behind it. Only the knowledge his plan worked out, just like his sister, Jude's.

"Listen to me very carefully, alright? There is not just one way to make magic, Ren-Ren. You have to find your own. But for now, try the basics. Think really hard on what you want to happen. Something easy. Got anything in mind?" Renard frowned, then his eyes landed on a tree which still had some green leaves on its branches and nodded.

"Perfect! Now, imagine whatever you want to happen. Imagine it happening. Are you imagining?"

"Yes."

"No!" Oak groaned. "If you're paying attention to me, then it means you're not focusing on magic."

"But how will I know what to do if I don't listen to you?"

"I told you! Magic is your own, Ren-Ren. It comes naturally. So, dig it up. Use your imagination."

Renard tried to shut out the world around him, picturing the sole tree in his mind. A warm pull tugged at him and he followed. His magic, he tried not to dwell on the joy, but instead focusing on his practice. His magic reaching out. Because he reached out first.

The boy allowed the warmth to take control, guiding him through it. The tree now carved in his mind by detail wasn't enough. He needed action. But just imagining the leaves to fall wouldn't do. Renard couldn't say how exactly he knew it. He just did. Something more tender was needed. The half fae kid had to imply what he wants and trust his magic to follow his lead.

So Renard made himself cold. Chilly. Feeling a breeze of wind creeping inside his clothes, whipping his skin gently. Enough to rip a leaf off a tree, though. Which it did. The wind he summoned couldn't be felt, not really. Only by himself and the green leaves that departed one by one from their branch as if plucked by an invisible hand.

Oak gasped. Then grinned. And then he laughed. Renard broke free of his concentration, pleased to see his magic didn't falter. Not until every and each green leaf from his chosen tree didn't fall. The sight made him still in awe for a couple of seconds. But soon enough he joined his cousin with a bubble laugh, jumping up and down and running to tackle Oak in a tight hug.

"I did it, Oak! I did it!"

"Yes, you did, Rem-Ren. Indeed, you did. Congrats!"

"Can we show auntie Vivi? And auntie Oriana?"

When Madoc and Oriana first came in the mortal world, Taryn wanted nothing to do with them. But years of being cared for by the blue skinned, white haired, pink eyes woman showed their tale. She agreed to see her, but only her. She could be part of her child life, if she wanted.

"Sure. But don't you want to show your mom first?"

"Mom and auntie Heather work a lot. We can show them later." Renard said, but he felt his magic shrinking at the thought of his mother. His Mom didn't like his father. And his magic comes from his father. Is that why his magic doesn't want to reveal itself near Taryn? He hoped it was just him overthinking it, because he loves his Mom and wants to share this with her.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Oak stayed with auntie Oriana, who was his mother, so Renard couldn't bring himself to be upset over it. He would want to be with his mother as much as he can as well. So he did a little trick for auntie Vivi, who told him to stay where he was, brought a camera and ordered him to glamour the tea cups again. Renard made them look like pumpkins, since the Halloween being over the corner made him impossibly anxious - in a good way.

Turns out even mortal technology can be fooled by fae's magic. Vivi showed the clip to Heather, who coed over him until Taryn came home.

"Hello, treasure. How was your day? Wanna give mommy a kiss?"

Renard jumped into his mother's arms, pressing a strong kiss on her cheek before starting to tell her about all the fun he had with cousin Oak. "And then he said I should try magic too."

Tamryn stilled. "And?"

"Look, Mom!"

Renard broke a vase, then, with a twitch of his fingers put it back together. "Auntie Vivi says I'm a natural."

"Does she? That's amazing, sweetheart."

But his mother didn't sound thrilled. In fact, her smile wasn't even a smile at all, but a thin line. "I'm sorry, mommy. I knew I shouldn't've done it, but I didn't know why. Now I know: you don't want me using my magic. It'll make me bad, like father."

Renard pushed his lips up front, scrunched his nose up, wiggled his toes, all in an atempt to stop the tears hurting his eyes from falling. When he realized it was in vain, he took off running to his room.

When Taryn entered minutes later she found her son curled on his left side in the middle of the bed, hugging a black goat plushie his uncle Cardan gave him on his birthday tight to his chest. She hated herself for causing the pain struck look on her son's face.

"Hey, sweetie."

"Hi, Mom." Renard wiped his nose with his jumper's sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. Mommy was just scared, but that's not your fault. You could never be bad. Magic is not bad. Of course you can practice all you want, but we'll settle some ground, basic rules first. Ok?"

"Really?"

"Rules you can never, ever break. Really."

"Thank you, Mommy! You're the best! Just wait until Oak hears about it."

A/N: Renard means fox in french. Also: oops, guess I finished it earlier than expected and didn't really felt like waiting days to post it 😅

#taryn duarte #folk of the air #cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #tfoa #oak greenbriar #madoc #magicfolk #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #wicked king #my fic #my writing #imagines #imagine #fanfic

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seattlesea · 4 years ago

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bad representation in the riordanverse

Racism:

-Gave Hazel and Piper gold and ‘kaleidoscope’/brown-blue-green changing eyes and pretty much went ‘Let’s add some characters of color but they cANT HAVE BROWN EYES THAT’S NOT PRETTY ENOUGH’ as if whitewashing isn’t more than just the skin.

-East Asian characters: Riordan pretty much went 'Here are my East Asian characters- one of them looks like a fat baby on steroids and is super undeveloped, his mother is strict and cold, and all the others are just described as 'Asian' because different countries in Asia don't exist and there's obviously no difference between Japanese, Chinese, and Korean'. His portrayal of East Asian characters went like this: Frank: Chinese, chubby, hates himself, underdeveloped, described to look like a 'Chinese Canadian baby man' and a 'panda' as if that's not stereotyping, and only learned to love himself when he looked hotter. Drew: Asian, villainized, rude, shallow, vain, and selfish. Ethan: Asian, rude, evil, a traitor, and deceased. Grandma Zhang- rude, strict, cold, traditional, and deceased.

-Hazel: Has gold eyes. Has 'cinnamon brown' hair even though dark brown or black hair would be way more inclusive and realistic. Had a mother portrayed as a rude and selfish witch who sacrificed, used, and trafficked her own child. Was the only character called or described as a witch while African-Americans were usually accused of witchcraft just for their skin color. Was the only character who was cursed. Had a mother who literally practiced voodoo. The only African-American character in the series before ToA who isn't dead (but she also died). Was paired with a sixteen year old guy even though African women are constantly forced with older men and that's blatantly racist stereotyping.

-Piper: Had 'chocolate brown' and then 'mahogany' hair? Has kaleidoscope eyes. Put a feather in her hair (which is stereotyping)- and it was an eagle feather, which is also wrong because eagles are extremely sacred to First Nation tribes and only spiritual leaders or warriors can wear it or it has to be gifted by an Elder of the tribe, and Riordan basically went 'Feathers are very important and it's racist to make a character wear one at inappropriate times but I'm going to make my character wear one as a cute accessory to make her look cool, pretty, and headstrong and to add to her 'Aesthetic'’ even though Cherokees didn’t wear feathers (which proves he did the bare minimum of research). Constantly oversexualized (56% of First Nation women are sexually harassed and Riordan had the audacity to put Piper in an 'embarrassingly low v-neck' and to have her constantly drooled over by a WHITE MALE and have her sexualized by her 1000+ mother without her knowledge or consent). It's said that her father was from a reservation in Oklahoma...but there are no reservations in Oklahoma, only cultural centers (which also proves that he did the bare minimum of research). She's the only First Nations character and she's the only character (besides Nancy Bobofit) depicted as a kleptomaniac (First Nations people are constantly called thieves by racist assholes). “The week before, he’d turned down several million dollars to play Tonto in a remake of The Lone Ranger. Piper was still trying to figure out why. He’d played all kinds of roles—a Latino teacher in a tough L.A. school, a dashing Israeli spy in an action-adventure blockbuster, even a Syrian terrorist in a James Bond movie. And, of course, he would always be known as the King of Sparta. But if the part was Native American—it didn’t matter what kind of role it was—Dad turned it down.” (The Lost Hero, page 165). So her father is fine with playing an extremely racist and stereotypical Middle Eastern role but not a First Nations role. Uses a cornucopia as a weapon (how she got it- cutting it off a half-bull- is disrespectful to her culture as hurting an animal is banned and she used a cornucopia- a symbol of Thanksgiving- as a weapon). Cut her hair, which is basically taboo in First Nations culture.

-Samirah: Had an arranged marriage (at age twelve, and she believed that she was groomed to be married to a rich and respectable family and nothing else). Ripped off her hijab in front of tons of male characters. The only Muslim character. The only Muslim character and she's the only character who married her cousin (you're supposed to break stereotypes, not enforce them).

Thomas Jefferson Jr: Said that he was thankful to the British for not siding with the South during the American Civil War even though they needed the South's cotton (but they didn't side with the North either). AKA a black man and son of a freed slave was thankful to Britain for not openly oppressing him? And at the same time he was named after a racist slave-owner.

Reyna: She's brown and her entire story revolves around her being independent, strong, alone, and self-sufficient but also desperately needing love and support but then Riordan says that she can't get her heart healed AKA she went through an abusive home, killed her father, left her sister, felt alone her whole life, worked a two-person job alone for months, and had to put on a brave face for others throughout all this then was literally told 'Shut up no one wants to hear about your struggles, just suck it up and deal with it’ and have you seen all the shit brown girls have to go through and keep silent about it?

Extra: -Latino, Puerto Rican, African-American, Chinese-Canadian, East Asian, First Nations, etc. characters and the two most powerful, best, and most skilled characters and who the stories mostly revolve around are two white guys AKA white supremacy.

-"Harriet Tubman, daughter of Hermes, used many mortals on her Underground Railroad for just this reason" and that World War II was caused by a child of Zeus and a child of Hades fighting very blatantly erases the shit those people went through and Riordan just went 'Let's use these racist movements as little easter eggs in my story'.

-Thanatos, who was chained and enslaved, is described with dark skin.

-Riordan writing the characters went a little something like this: Drew: You get common Eastern Asian features like dark hair and eyes because you're arrogant, selfish, conceited, and rude, and because you're an antagonist and you're going to be used to make one of my protagonists- who has unique traits- look good so you're going to have the basic, 'boring' physical traits so the readers know who's the more superior of the two of you. Leo: You get common Latino features like curly dark hair, dark eyes, and light brown skin cause you're the weird, hyperactive unattractive one who's very flirty but constantly gets rejected and you're the only main character without a love interest and the only way you can get a girlfriend is when she's forced to fall in love with you through a curse. Frank: You get common Chinese features like dark hair and eyes cause you're the fat unattractive loser who catches the eye of the African character who already has unique and 'special' traits so you don't have to be super attractive. Reyna: You get common Puerto Rican traits like dark skin, hair, and eyes cause you're the stoic, lonely, intimidating, and cold one who wants all the guys (two white guys for that matter) but none of them want you and they both have girlfriends with traits like blonde hair and gray and kaleidoscope eyes so the readers know who are the more interesting couples. Piper and Hazel: You two get eurocentric features because you're the main characters I have to set apart from everyone else- including other females whom I'm going to make one of you rivals with- so the readers know who's more superior so I'm giving you unique eye colors that literally cannot be found in humans so I'm going to try to validate it by saying that it's from something mildly associated with your godly parent even though neither of them have those traits. Riordan basically said that the common features are bad and boring and that unique and special features- aka features not found in those ethnicities- are good and cool. Also- if gods don’t have DNA how can their traits be passed down to their demigod children checkmate Riordan.

-Cecil Markowitz is the only Jewish character in PJO and the first thing used to describe him is "That kid, always thinking about the potential payout".

-Lavinia said that she was going to bring her date to her bat mitzvah even though you don't bring dates to bat mitzvahs or bar mitzvahs and she said that it was 'awkward' to tell her rabbi that someone was going to be her date even though you don't explain your guestlist to your rabbi, and they're most likely not even going to be at the party.

-Only three Latino and Puerto Rican characters (Leo, Reyna, and Hylla) and all three came from abusive households.

-Leo said 'Mamacita' as if that's not stereotyping.

-Made Nico ‘pale’ even though he had olive skin and gave him black hair and dark eyes despite Italians usually having light hair and eyes just to add to his ‘Goth Boy Aesthetic’.

-Hazel described Pluto to look like Adolf Hitler.

-Carter Kane said that Elvis took African-American music and made it sound like rock 'n roll and described it as cool- like no it’s cultural appropriation.

-Leo was abused and Riordan thought that it'd be funny to make all the other characters line up to punch him and then try to make it look funny.

-Gave almost every single POC character a white name and sometimes gave them white first names and POC surnames, and Reyna and Bianca are the only POC characters with names from their culture/native language and one of them is dead and reborn as someone else and the other’s full name wasn’t revealed until the fourth book in her series and she hates using it.

-Made two POC characters with names from their culture- Samirah and Olujime- go by white nicknames (Sam and Jamie) to make it ‘easier to read’ despite having white characters with the same amount of syllables in their names (like Annabeth) that didn’t go by nicknames.

-Never actually described the characters of color with physical traits from their ethnicities (Reyna, Hylla, and Leo with big eyes, thick eyebrows, brown hair, wide noses, full lips, etc., Piper with almost-oriental eyes, shovel teeth, high cheekbones, black hair, etc., Nico with light or brown hair and eyes, olive skin, a narrow nose, etc., Hazel with a wide nose and lips, dark brown eyes, black or dark brown hair, big eyes, thick eyebrows, etc.).

Anti-LGBTQ+:

-Nico was forcibly outed by Cupid and Riordan and the fandom didn't care and the only thing they thought was 'Aww, he has a crush on Percy! So cute!' AKA romanticizing a forced outing.

-Riordan said that he didn't want to make Reyna lesbian or bisexual because he thought it'd be stereotypical making her LGBTQ+ because she didn't want men anymore even though she could've been bisexual all along but Riordan casually dismissed the idea of that saying "Having a girl end up with a woman after dating men is a bad stereotype" and basically said that real bi girls don’t exist.

-The Hunters of Artemis were made so Artemis/Diana could protect those girls from men and their behavior towards women but Riordan dismissed lesbian relationships- even though nothing about that was said in real Greek mythology- meaning that he thinks that women need protection from other women just as much as they need protection from men.

-Alex Fierro is the only gender-fluid or transgender character and she/he’s seen as rude, snarky, and sharp and Magnus could magically tell when Alex changed gender.

-Riordan said that he wouldn’t make Reyna a lesbian because of stereotypes despite the reader asking if Reyna was going to get a girlfriend, not come out as lesbian AKA Riordan thinks ‘Girls liking girls’ is automatically ‘lesbian’ and completely dismissed bi, pan, poly, omni, etc. girls.

-Used a self-insert to make fun of wlw readers who saw themself in Reyna and thought she could be a cool character to relate to.

-Enforced LGBTQ+ stereotypes like the cold-hearted Asexual, the flamboyant bi/pan, the snarky gender-fluid, the emo gay, the laid-back and rebellious lesbian who dyed her hair pink and chews a lot of bubblegum, etc.

-Has one-hundred fifty-five characters total minus gods/goddesses, Titans, giants, nymphs, dryads, satyrs, monsters, etc. and only has fifteen confirmed LGBTQ+ characters (do the math, that’s exactly one out of ten regarding OCs).

-Only one character that isn’t cishet.

-Saves most the LGBTQ+ for the side characters or only confirms characters LGBTQ+ once they’ve become a minor character despite being a main character before.

-Only stated that Reyna was Asexual outside of his books and on Twitter as if that’s not exactly what J.K Rowling is doing.

-Used the LGBTQ+ community to make Piper seem like the ‘special snowflake’ and to set her apart from her siblings to make it seem like she’s better than all of them and used Hera/Juno and Aphrodite/Venus as excuses for his homophobic mindset that believes that straight is the default cause “Suddenly, much of what she and I had talked about started to make sense. Not being defined by Aphrodite’s expectations. Or Hera’s ideas of what a perfect couple looked like. Piper finding her own way, not the one people expected of her” in synonymous words is 'The expectations for love and the idea of a perfect couple are a heterosexual relationship, and anyone who 'finds their own way instead of the ones people expect' are different'. ‘Different’ and ‘default’ are antonyms AKA if he thinks that LGBTQ+ people are ‘different’, he thinks that straight is the ‘default’. Remember- an author writes their own personal beliefs.

-Josephine is the only black LGBTQ+ character.

-Reyna is said to be Asexual despite feeling sexual attraction towards Percy cause no one likes someone five minutes after knowing them and it’s anything but sexual attraction.

-Magnus and Alex are the only LGBTQ+ relationship whose growth and development is actually shown in the story (while there was also Apollo and Commodus, Piper and Shel, Will and Nico, Apollo and Hyacinthus, Emmie and Jo, Lavinia and Poison Oak, etc.).

-Riordan never canonically said the name of any sexuality and is clearly uncomfortable with the LGBTQ+ community shown by his little to no writing regarding physical affection and deep emotions in his LGBTQ+ relationships.

-Only added in LGBTQ+ relationships for publicity- Percy Jackson and the Olympians release dates: 2005-2009. 2005-2009: LGBTQ+ support was nearly at an all-time low. No LGBTQ+ characters, relationships, or references in the books. The Lost Hero-The Mark of Athena release dates: 2010-2012. 2010-2012: LGBTQ+ support was still very low. Still no LGBTQ+ characters, relationships, or references in the books. The House of Hades release date: late 2013. Mid-2013: the giant spike for LGBTQ+ support and allies. One confirmed LGBTQ+ character. The Sword of Summer release date: late 2015. 2015: LGBTQ+ support was good and gay marriage was legalized. A few LGBTQ+ references but no confirmed characters. The Hammer of Thor and The Ship of the Dead release dates: 2016-2017. 2016-2017: LGBTQ+ support was quite high. Two confirmed LGBTQ+ characters and the first canon LGBTQ+ relationship and kiss. The Trials of Apollo release dates: 2016-2020. 2016-2020: LGBTQ+ support was very high. More LGBTQ+ characters confirmed in one book than all the other series combined. Kind of obvious he was just following the public opinion.

-Legit said ‘Reyna can’t like girls cause she has had crushes on guys before’.

Ableism:

-It was heavily implied in The Battle of the Labyrinth that Rachel Dare had schizophrenia/psychosis but it's never brought up again.

-Grover's fake feet made it look like he was disabled from the Mist and it was said that he was bullied because of it but it was never brought up again.

-It was said that Tyson looked like he had down syndrome from the Mist covering his one eye but it was never brought up again.

-It was stated that every character but Frank has ADHD and dyslexia but never actually showed any symptoms after Percy Jackson and the Olympians and characters like Piper and Leo were even able to read English writing throughout The Lost Hero and the only symptom of ADHD Riordan showed through his characters was ‘a lot of fidgeting’ as if that’s not a blatant stereotype.

Pedophilia:

-Luke, a twenty-two/twenty-three year old had a crush on Annabeth, a sixteen year old. That's a six-seven year age gap.

-The only two girls put into relationships with much older men are black (Hazel and Sadie).

-Hazel, a thirteen year old, got together with a sixteen year old guy. Hazel's crush on Frank is normal- a girl having a crush on an older guy, but Frank's crush on Hazel is disgusting- an older guy looking down at a child and thinking about making out with her.

Misogyny:

-Aphrodite's kids are seen as useless, weak, snobby, shallow, vain, and selfish just because they’re feminine.

-Riordan portrayed Aphrodite’s kids as feminine despite Aphrodite being the goddess of love and beauty, not femininity, as if romance and beauty are reserved for women only.

-Piper is the only 'tomboy' child of Aphrodite and she's portrayed as tougher, stronger, and better than her feminine siblings (and it's portrayed that way multiple times throughout the story like other characters telling Piper she’s "-tough for a child of Aphrodite").

-Piper immediately stereotyped and disliked every single feminine character like Drew and the rest of the Aphrodite cabin just because they liked makeup and skirts as if that’s not shallow criticism.

-Feminine characters like Drew, Isabel, Khione, and Medea are used or even created solely as antagonists to make Piper- the tomboy- look better.

-Calypso is the only feminine character and she sucks at everything.

-Riordan’s take on female characters: Drew: a vain, rude, selfish, snobby, and bitchy mean girl. Silena: a shallow traitor. Reyna: a cold-hearted robot. Piper: internalized misogyny that was never brought up again. Calypso: an island whore. Athena: a rude, aggressive bitch with no emotions. Aphrodite: shallow, vain, conceited, and self-centered. Hera: completely evil with no backstory added into it. Marie: an evil witch who selfishly used and sacrificed her daughter.

-The Hunters of Artemis were blessed by Artemis to protect them from men but Riordan made it only about the men in their lives (again) and portrayed the whole 'losing men' thing like it was a burden and that they're 'giving men up' even though they join the Hunters to leave men. He distorted the original meaning of the Hunters- protecting women- by making it about the Hunters hating and being forced to leave men even though they're asking to have no men in their lives, cause that's the point of it.

-The Amazons and Hunters of Artemis despise men and literally attack them if they so much as speak as if sexism is reserved for women only.

-Portrayed femininity as weakness (and masculinity as strength, it’s even in the word- tomBOY).

-Constantly pit women against women for the sake of romance and love triangles instead of normalizing women getting along despite liking the same people and let the female’s relationships get controlled and influenced by the men in their lives.

-The men always outpower the women in powers and skills. Riordan’s portrayal of powers and characters- Percy: You’re going to have epic water powers and can even create your own personal hurricanes and even though you’ve only been canonically training for eight months total you’re going to be the best swordfighter despite multiple characters having years more training than you. Jason: You’re going to be able to fly, control lightning, create storms, and electric shock people into another dimension. Leo: You’re going to be able to create and control fire and blow shit up with just a screwdriver. Frank: You’re going to be able to shape-shift into any animal you want, even a whole dragon. Nico: You’re going to be able to control darkness and shadows, literally teleport, and raise a whole army of undead soldiers. Reyna: Powers? Nah, your only ability is to lend strength to others as if that benefits you at all. Annabeth: Powers? Nah. Piper: You’re going to be able to manipulate and seduce people and are literally going to use your body and attractiveness as a weapon and your power is literally called charmspeak. Hazel: You have more powers than all the other characters combined that can literally destroy anyone in less than a second but you’re never going to use them or even remember that you have them cause screw the female character being more powerful than the males.

-The men always accomplish the most incredible feats and if the females ever do accomplish something great (Reyna healing the riff and defeating Orion while the Hunters and Amazons couldn’t combined, Annabeth going through Tartarus, Hazel learning to control the Mist, etc.) they are never praised or rewarded or all the credit goes to the men.

-Ares/Mars in real Greek/Roman mythology was the feminist patron of the Amazons who loved his daughter very much and killed a rapist but was portrayed as the dumb, cruel asshole who loved nothing but bloodshed and tried to kill a twelve year-old kid who was trying to help him while Poseidon/Neptune in real Greek/Roman mythology was a greedy, short-tempered, and arrogant asshole who raped almost as much women than Zeus/Jupiter but was portrayed as the kind, caring, and gentle father figure.

Fatophobia:

-Frank is the only chubby character and he hates himself because of it, was constantly fat-shamed, and only learned to love himself after he got rippling abs, muscles, and looked hotter (because fat = ugly in Riordan’s mind, even though it's not).

-Clovis was depicted with a pot-belly and Drew described him as 'repulsive'.

-Dionysus/Bacchus is also depicted with a pot-belly and he's portrayed as a useless, rude, lazy, and drunken asshole.

Lookism:

Basically how Riordan wrote his characters- Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Reyna, Hazel, Piper, and most minor protagonists: You’re all going to be super attractive, have at least one character or more pining for you, have your looks constantly commented on, and some of you will even use your looks as a weapon cause that’s not obvious sexualization cause you’re all the main characters and protagonists that readers need to know are the protagonists. Nico, Leo, and Frank: You three are originally portrayed as unattractive but at some points are described as cute and two of you are insecure about your looks cause you’re scrawny and chubby and one of you hates yourself cause of your body and only learn to love yourself once you magically gain abs cause more muscle obviously equals more attractiveness. Luke, Silena, Chris, and Ethan: You four are going to be super attractive because you’re traitors but all of you make up for your actions and decide to help the demigods and become protagonists again. Octavian, Bryce, Michael, Titans, giants, etc.: You all are the antagonists so you have to be super ugly with multiple physical imperfections cause you’re not allowed to be attractive since you are against the protagonists and I have to set you guys apart and show the readers who’s the better and more superior character.

-Frank hated himself cause he was chubby and only loved himself once he got skinnier and gained muscle through magic but even then was called ‘cute like a panda’.

-Leo was described as scrawny and unattractive and was insecure about being short but even then was called ‘cute in a scrawny way’.

-Piper had facial imperfections and even a pimple on her nose but once she got claimed all of those disappeared and they stayed gone even after the blessing washed off despite all the magic being gone and only then was Piper’s looks commented on multiple times.

-Lester/Apollo hated his appearance cause he had a little flab and acne and his physical imperfections were used as comedy by making fun of it as if insecure readers don’t exist.

-Percy and Annabeth had one canon physical imperfection- a gray streak in their hair- and that magically washed away.

-None of the other characters were described with any physical imperfections like pimples/zits/acne, body hair (despite none of the characters having the care or time to wax or shave), bushy/frizzy or messy hair or eyebrows, big or small hands or noses, blackheads, super thick or thin eyebrows, blemishes, birthmarks, scars, stretch marks, braces, lazy eyes, yellow or chipped teeth, eye bags, glasses, moles, dimples, love handles, flab/fat, visible veins, freckles, etc. unless it added to their ‘aesthetic’ despite none of those being bad and saves it only for the antagonists as if ‘physical imperfections’ = ‘evil’.

Bias:

-Riordan portrayed the Romans as cold, cruel, ruthless, strict, and overall horrible despite them being the more inclusive camp regarding family and godly parents, have multiple families and rules that ensure their camper’s safety, and hold the nicest characters in the series while the Greeks are portrayed as fun, wild, reckless, silly, and cool despite holding the most prejudiced and rude characters, outcasting and ostracizing characters of certain godly parents just for their parentage, stereotype almost every single cabin, and make some campers without siblings live, sleep, and eat alone.

-Every Greek traitor (Luke, Silena, Ethan, and Chris) were portrayed as powerful, kind, attractive, and awesome and each made up for their actions but each Roman ‘traitor’ (Octavian, Bryce, and Michael, and only one of them are actually a traitor) were portrayed as unattractive, cruel, ambitious, ruthless, and extremely weak and never actually did anything useful.

-The Greeks were part of the Union and the Romans were part of the Confederacy (adding on to Riordan adding racist movements as fun little easter eggs in his stories).

-Four out of seven of the main Seven are Greek.

-There are at least 70+ Greek characters and less than thirty named Romans.

-The Battle of San Francisco Bay was used for the sole purpose to weaken the Romans and make the Greeks seem stronger than them and while the Greeks went through two whole wars, their camp laid almost completely untouched but the moment the Romans are introduced, half their population is wiped?

Romanticization:

-Romanticized Annabeth judo-flipping Percy AKA romanticized physical abuse/harassment (emotions, angriness, feelings of love and affection, ‘they went through a lot together’, etc. do not excuse hitting someone) despite Annabeth knowing where Percy’s Achilles Heel was and not knowing he lost it and flipping him on his back anyways (if Percy didn’t lose the Achilles Heel, Annabeth would’ve killed him).

-Romanticized Leo killing himself to see Calypso again and to take her off her island AKA a romanticized suicide.

-Romanticized Calypso yelling at and insulting Leo and Annabeth insulting and canonically lowering Percy’s self-esteem AKA romanticized verbal abuse/bullying.

-Romanticized Will trying to help Nico through his loneliness and depression as if that can’t be portrayed as someone just wanting to help another person AKA romanticized mental illness.

-Romanticized every character kissing another character without asking first and without their consent AKA romanticized sexual harassment.

-Romanticized Piper taking advantage over Jason’s amnesia and mental state and jumping onto him despite knowing there might be a girl he couldn’t remember AKA romanticized manipulation.

-Romanticized Piper and Annabeth’s possessive, overly-jealous, and controlling behavior over Jason and Percy (even before they were canonically dating).

-Romanticized Nico being forced to confess his crush on Percy AKA romanticized a forced outing.

Rick Riordan:

-Refused to apologize for his actions even after being called out by people from the groups he was writing inaccurately and stereotyping (Muslim, Jewish, African, First Nation, lesbian, gay, Puerto Rican, etc.) and tried to make himself look like the victim.

-Claimed he was being ‘bullied’ by readers half his age who were just pointing out his books’ racist flaws.

-Showed time and time again that he is not willing to listen to the voices of minorities.

-Clearly didn’t do his research on ethnicities, sexualities, religions, etc. shown by how he got the simplest things wrong.

-Tried to say that he- a straight white man- was right when people of the actual groups he was writing about (gay, First Nation tribes, etc.) were wrong.

-Used excuses like having a ‘headstrong’ and ‘stubborn’ character who wants to ‘show their culture in their own way’ for his stereotypes. No, Riordan, you want to show the culture that way, not Piper. She’s a fictional character, you’re real. Dumbass.

-Literally said ‘Sorry I put feathers in Piper’s hair, I can’t change what I wrote in the past and I didn’t know that sensitive readers existed’ then continued to write feathers in Piper’s hair in the future books.

The Fandom:

Note: Not to all of the fandom, obviously

-Draws Piper with light skin, light hair, and kaleidoscope eyes with feathers, hippie bands, and beads (yes, it's canon, but you're allowed to change it if it's blatantly racist, and the bead and hippie band thing was created by the fandom and that's also stereotyping).

-Almost always draw Reyna, Hylla, and Leo with light skin and Caucasian traits (props to the few artists who drew them with the right skin tones).

-Draws Hazel with gold eyes, ‘cinnamon’/light brown hair, and an adult body.

-Sexualizes female characters by drawing them in sexy and revealing clothes and giving them all the same exact sexy, slim, and perfect hour-glass shaped bodies.

-Almost never include physical imperfections, muscle, scars, stretch marks, etc. in drawings.

-Fancasts white actors for characters of color and puts actors/faceclaims of white people or people of different ethnicities in the moodboards or aesthetics for characters of color.

-Participates in cultural appropriation by wearing feathers when cosplaying Piper and wearing a hijab when cosplaying Samirah.

-Supports Riordan, tries to defend him, and condones his clearly racist and bigoted actions just cause they ‘like the books’ (if you are straight, white, and/or cishet, I definitely don’t want to see you trying to defend a fifty-five year-old multi-millionaire who is clearly racist, sexist, homophobic, and transphobic).

-Romanticize physical abuse, verbal abuse, mental illnesses and panic/anxiety attacks, etc.

-Ship pedophilic, manipulative, abusive, and wrong relationships.

-Barely allow others to have their own opinions (looking at you Perachel haters) without yelling at, insulting, cursing out, and/or even threatening them for liking or disliking different things than them including ships, characters, books, plots/faults, and Riordan himself.

-Straightwashes characters like shipping Nico with female characters or setting him up with a female character in fanfics.

-Whitewashes characters like drawing Hazel and Piper with eurocentric features, Reyna, Hylla, and Leo with white skin and Caucasian traits, Nico with white/pale skin, etc.

-Try to excuse and explain abusive, manipulative, possessive, and overall very wrong and toxic behavior.

-Fail to recognize and/or admit the toxic, racist, homophobic, sexist, transphobic, wrong, abusive, etc. faults in the books, ships, and characters just cause they like them.

The Percy Jackson franchise does not add good representation. You can still like the series as long as you don’t condone Riordan’s racist and toxic writing and actions and don’t try to ignore the horrible and stereotypical faults just cause you don’t want to admit that your favorite or childhood story is horrible.

202 notes · View notes

feybarn · 3 years ago

Note

If you want a prompt, how about #10: "When you touch me, my mind is gone. The only words I know are lost inside your body. (right in there.)" for Quinlan Vos and Obi-Wan Kenobi (what can I say, I love their interactions and this prompt definitely has an interesting interpretation with the psychometry!)

“You’re burning the food!” Aayla called out, an evil little cackle in her voice that no one would ever believe her capable of.

His padawan was, as far as everyone else was concerned, a veritable angel.

“You could help,” Quinlan grumbled, grabbing the pan of burning noodles and taking them off the heat.

Aayla appeared at his side, smothering the small spurt of flame with a towel. “It’s your date,” Aayla pointed out, with all the sass her twelve-year-old body could manage. “Doesn’t that mean it’s your job to do all the work?”

“It’s not a date.” It was far more important than that. Quinlan put a hand on his hip, turning to his padawan. She was not at all quailed. But then, she never was. “Do you want this to work or not?” He waved to the burned noodles. “Because this isn’t really a ringing endorsement for him to stick around.”

Aayla considered it for a long moment before nodding. “I’ll fix the noodles, you do the meat and the vegetables.”

Quinlan shifted to the side as Aayla threw away the burnt noodles, pulling out more from their pantry.

“You don’t need to be nervous, you know,” Aayla said.

Quinlan rolled his eyes, running a hand down Aayla’s lekku, giving it a light tug at the end. “I know.”

“He really likes us.”

“I know.”

“He’s going to say yes.”

Quinlan certainly hoped so, but Obi-Wan had always lived to subvert and exceed people’s expectations. “As long as we don’t serve him something inedible,” he teased.

Aayla gave him an affronted look. “I can cook.”

So could Quinlan, most of the time, at least. But apparently his nerves had gotten the best of him. Which was ridiculous. He had no reason to be nervous. He’d gone undercover in Hutt territories, played sabacc with Jedi Hunters, and let himself get poisoned on three separate occasions.

A dinner with Obi-Wan wasn’t exactly a good reason to be nervous. He’d eaten with Obi-Wan plenty of times.

“I’m nervous too,” Aayla told him quietly. “It wasn’t supposed to have gone this way. What if he doesn’t want this anymore?”

It was true. It wasn’t supposed to have gone this way at all. They had all expected Obi-Wan to be knighted years ago, they had planned to be a Knight Pair and train Aayla together.

But then Qui-Gon had refused to put Obi-Wan up for his trials, despite the fact that he had long been ready for it. And then the idiot went and threw him away to take a brand new shiny padawan. Then he got himself mortally injured, and forced out what everyone had thought was a death-bed promise for Obi-Wan to train Skywalker.

Qui-Gon had fallen into a coma, but no one had thought he’d ever wake up, and the Council had been unwilling to take Skywalker in.

So Obi-Wan had thrown away all his dreams, all their dreams, and had taken Skywalker on.

Quinlan hadn’t liked it, but he’d understood.

But then, two months ago, Qui-Gon Jinn had woken up and he had demanded his padawan. His… new, shiny padawan.

For reasons Quinlan would never understand, the Council had agreed.

Obi-Wan had been sent on a mission, looking the emotional equivalent of having been dragged from the back of a speeder for two miles while people were throwing sticks at him.

And now he was back. With no Master. And no Padawan.

It was selfish, perhaps, to hope that this might give them what they’ve always wanted. When Obi-Wan had been jerked back and forth by everyone around him, had already given so much of himself.

“Master!” Aayla’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “You’re going to burn the meat!”

Quinlan cursed, pulling the meat off the stove. He poked at it with a fork, shifting it around. “It looks… edible,” he decided. Maybe a little charred, but that just gave it flavor.

Aayla gave it a doubtful look. “Hopefully Knight Obi-Wan thinks so too.”

Obi-Wan had always given the attitude of being a bit of a food snob, but Quinlan had never known him to actually turn something down.

“It’ll be fine.” He hoped.

The sound of the door chime going off meant that it had better be good enough, because they didn’t have time for anything more. “Go let him in. I’ll… finish this.” He waved at their food.

Aayla scampered off. “Knight Kenobi!” Her voice was bright and chipper.

Quinlan breathed in, throwing the food on to plates.

It was just dinner with Obi-Wan.

And then asking him to tie their lives together by training a padawan together.

Quinlan was as cool as a loth cat, completely unbothered.

He had this.

-_-

They’d finished dinner and were chatting, Obi-Wan asking Aayla after her classes and how she was doing. That soft tender smile on his face that did unfair things to Quinlan’s heart.

It was easy to love Obi-Wan when he was being an impossible force, or obliterating Quinlan in a spar, or pulling off ridiculous hi-jinks that no one could ever pin on him.

It was so much more terrifying when he loved Obi-Wan in these quiet moments, where Obi-Wan looked at Quinlan’s padawan, and asked after her classes, and gave her tips on her homework. When he was soft, and sweet, and vulnerable, it made something in Quinlan’s chest tighten at how easily their world could fall apart.

Aayla kept sending Quinlan demanding looks, but Quinlan was having a rare case of speechlessness, his mind completely empty of important things like words.

Obi-Wan being Obi-Wan, he had clearly noticed the ongoing interplay, but he was pretending he hadn’t. He was such a diplomat. He was a perfect diplomat really.

Which was just another reason why this wasn’t going to work. Plans people made when they were seventeen were… well, they were just that, plans they’d made when they were seventeen.

And sure, they’d continued to talk about it, but then Jinn had been Jinn, and being Jinn he’d ruined everything.

Quinlan really wanted to punch the man in the nose. But that hadn’t changed since Quinlan had been sixteen and had really realized how awful a Master Qui-Gon Jinn was.

Finally Aayla seemed to get tired of waiting from him. Standing up from the couch she moved to where Obi-Wan was sitting. “Knight Kenobi?” she began, everything from her voice to her body language formal and serious.

Obi-Wan straightened slowly, clearly recognizing Aayla’s change in demeanor. The soft, warm atmosphere shifted—though no less soft or warm, just with a hint of structure to it.

“Yes, Padawan Secura?”

Aayla took a deep breath, glancing over at Quinlan as though making sure she was doing this right.

Quinlan doubted she got anything helpful from his face, but he also had no idea what sort of expression he was wearing.

Aayla turned back to Obi-Wan, and she held out her hand to show a patterned silka bead. “Would you join Master Quinlan on my padawan braid?”

Obi-Wan froze, mouth dropping open in clear surprise.

Quinlan made a choked noise, because that had been… direct. But what could he have expected, Aayla was his padawan—but she could be theirs, if Obi-Wan said yes—and he’d never been good at subtle in situations that weren’t life or death.

Obi-Wan closed himself, gathering himself together. He glanced at Quinlan, then back to Aayla. He leaned forward, murmuring something in twi’leki that was too quick and too quiet for Quinlan to pick up. Obi-Wan had always been better at languages than Quinlan, anyways.

Aayla nodded, and Quinlan felt her carefully closing their bond.

Quinlan felt a brief burst of panic.

Obi-Wan smiled, reaching out and resting a gentle hand on Aayla’s shoulder as he whispered something else. Aayla’s face was carefully neutral, and with the bond closed Quinlan had no hints as to what was being said.

After a moment Aayla nodded, before sending Quinlan an indecipherable look and leaving the room.

Quinlan took a moment to despair that she’d taken to her lessons on keeping a sabacc face so well.

Obi-Wan waited until she closed the door to turn to Quinlan. “We should talk.”

Quinlan fidgeted. “Uh huh.”

It was quiet for a moment before Obi-Wan sighed, clearly recognizing that Quinlan had no clue what to say.

For some reason the words ‘Remember when we were padawans and I asked you if you’d raise Aayla with me and if we could grow old together as a Knight Pair and you said yes?’ seemed… immature at best.

“Take off your gloves, Quin,” Obi-Wan said, a quiet request. “Please.”

Quinlan didn’t take off his gloves. Not unless a mission called for it. Even in his own apartment he still picked up too much, and it was hard to protect Aayla’s privacy when a single touch could reveal so much.

Quinlan took off his gloves.

Obi-Wan slipped off the couch, kneeling in front of Quinlan.

A joke about what Obi-Wan could do in that position was on the tip of his tongue. But thankfully, it was kept as much at bay as everything else Quinlan didn’t know how to say.

“Find my answer, Quin,” Obi-Wan said, a quiet challenge in his voice.

Quinlan reached out, soft and careful until his hand reached Obi-Wan’s hair. He closed his eyes and breathed, running his hands gently through soft hair he hadn’t touched in years.

A hurried shower. Trying to look presentable. Is this a date? Or just friends getting together again? Quinlan had seemed odd when he’d invited him to come, but he’s too tired to parse through what Quinlan wants. He’s too tired to parse through what HE wants.

Earlier.

Trying to remove dirt and blood from his hair. He’d thought his missions had always gone wrong because of Qui-Gon, but maybe he was the one with the bad luck.

Earlier.

Smaller hands touching hair that’s just growing out, practicing the padawan braid on hair that’ll never be in a padawan braid again. Fear and confusion and the beginning of devotion for this man whose taken him in when Mister Qui-Gon couldn’t.

Earlier.

Trembling hands find the root of his braid. Qui-Gon is in the medbay, but chances are he will never wake up. The Council have said he earned his Knighthood. But it feels cheap. It feels stolen. His Master is not there to cut his braid, and so he does it himself.

Quinlan stopped there, letting his hands trace down to Obi-Wan’s neck. He felt Obi-Wan’s hands come to rest on his knees, fingers moving in a gentle caress over the fabric.

Rubbing dried mud from the back of his neck. How many explosives did these people even have? They were going to bring the whole mountain down!

Earlier.

Wiping sweat from his skin. He’s exhausted, physically, but the katas have done nothing to ease his mind. Anakin is gone. Anakin is with his new Master. He’s alone. There’s a deep grief in his soul he doesn’t know how to deal with. He lights his lightsaber again, and moves back into position.

Quinlan moved further down, trailing from neck, to shoulder, to chest, picking up pieces of Obi-Wan as he goes.

He let his hands trail down Obi-Wan’s arms, before reaching Obi-Wan’s hands where they were resting easily on Quinlan’s knees.

Trailing affectionate patterns into Quinlan’s knees. It’s been a while since he’s knelt in front of Quinlan like this. He’s a little surprised that Quinlan hadn’t made a joke about it. But then, this is a serious affair. Quinlan was asking him to join their lives together. Or he’d gotten Aayla to ask for him. Quinlan’s never been one for convention though.

Earlier.

Hand pressing gently against Aayla’s shoulder. He remembered when he was young when he and Quinlan had spoken of being a Knight Pair. When they’d spoken of raising this brilliant girl together. In helping her become a Jedi. He didn’t regret Anakin, he refused to let himself. But this had been a future he’d wanted once. He just wasn’t sure if he can take it now. He didn’t want Aayla or Quin to ever feel like they’re a second choice.

He could feel a soft kiss against the skin of his palm.

Love.

Another soft kiss.

Devotion.

Kiss after gentle kiss, trailing messages and emotions into Quinlan’s skin. And Quinlan would never trust anyone else enough to be this vulnerable with them. To open himself up and let them mark his skin with their life.

He loved this man. With all Quinlan’s quirks and eccentricities. With all the wild fire that Quinlan couldn’t contain. He loved Aayla too. Had learned twi’leki in anticipation of the day he’d join Quinlan in teaching her.

He wanted this. Wanted to hold these hands in the late night. Wanted to press messages into his skin that no one else would ever understand.

He wanted them. He wanted to help guide smaller, younger hands. Wanted to teach young Aayla how to fight with a grace that would match Quinlan’s brutality.

He wanted this.

Quinlan pulled his hands away, opening up his eyes. Obi-Wan was still on his feet, kneeling and looking up at Quinlan with a warm, soft smile.

“You couldn’t have just said yes?” Not that Quinlan really minded this method of gaining answers from Obi-Wan.

“You couldn’t just ask me yourself?” Obi-Wan retorted. He stood and Quinlan made a wounded noise as Obi-Wan moved away. He’d liked having Obi-Wan there. “Now, Aayla is patiently waiting for me to remind you how to use your words, before she comes back out so we can put my bead on to join yours.”

“You already told her yes?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I didn’t want her to have to wait, wondering if she was going to get rejected.”

Quinlan narrowed his eyes, because Obi-Wan had made him wait to find the answer.

Aayla was already coming out of her room, eyes bright and sabacc face completely gone, her delight bright on her face.

“You know, next time you get on your knees, you should—“

Obi-Wan flicked a pillow at him with the Force. “Really? You get your words back for that?”

Quinlan just grinned. “So when are you moving in?”

#fey's writing #drverstehen1 #prompt fic #Obi-Wan/Quinlan #Quinlan & Aayla #Obi-Wan & Aayla #I have a WHOLE headcanon about the Obi-Wan and Quinlan were going to raise Aayla together #And then Qui-Gon died #And the galaxy was forever changed #Sorry this got LONG #And didn't quite fit the prompt #But it was INSPIRED by the prompt #so that counts #right?

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bi-demon-ium · 3 years ago

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HEY i dont know who else to talk to about this but; what if, mr curtain got adopted instead of mr benedict. i feel like mr curtain would still be a controlling ass but instead of making it the whole worlds problem hed be chiller about it, since there isnt that moment of 'oh the one person i cared about abandoned me. time to stop caring about literally everyone'. mr benedict would probably be ok?? he wouldnt be exactly the same but hed still be kind and friend-shaped. very sad about his brother leaving? yes! but understanding that sometimes life really do be like that, and that hed certainly see his brother again someday. (also!! i think that baby curtain would most likely speak up about the family adopting his brother too) (anyway im gonna stop before i write a novel about this)

OH BOY LONG KIND OF INCOHERENT RANT AHEAD

i think i've said this before and i firmly stand by it: if their positions were swapped, and curtain had gotten adopted and never came back (although i don't know if nicholas would have asked him to, he probably still would have asserted he would--although to be fair, i--you know what, let's get to that in a second*) then "nathaniel" would not have become "mr benedict" and "nicholas" would not have become "mr curtain".

things would be different, sure--curtain likely wouldn't have had such deep seated issues with abandonment/rejection, so he probably wouldn't have become the man we see in the show today. (*as i was saying earlier, i do think that like, it's more likely nathaniel would have attempted to come back, as he doesn't have a reason to feel stifled the way nicholas did, but two things: one, even considering this, he still easily could have failed. he's a smart twelve-year-old, but he's a twelve-year-old. if they didn't have room for two, even twins, in the first place, it seems unlikely they'd be willing to take in another only a few months later. not to mention, would he be willing to give up his ultimate goal, getting adopted, to run away back to the shitty orphanage to be with his brother (even presuming that work) whomst he kind of seems to consider is below him? idk. two: it's still very possible, if you want to preserve the swap here, he would have simply decided his brother was dead weight/he was better off/didn't need him. after all, he almost didn't get adopted because of him, and he'd probably be fine!)

but like one thing that i think defines their difference as characters isn't "benedict got adopted = he's kind, curtain didn't = he's hurt and therefore mean" but rather the choices they make in response to their environments. obviously the adoption changed things--curtain probably developed like ten more issues lbr, and benedict now has a lot of guilt over letting himself have that which he seems to be lowkey punishing himself for, but like. i think ultimately, they'd both be pretty similar. i think curtain was always kind of selfish and superior feeling, not to mention the control issues (likely linked to basically having If I Feel Emotionally Vulnerable I Become Physically Vulnerable disease, ouch) are still going to be there. so maybe he isn't pushed as far as the emergency, but honestly, i doubt he'd go a similar route to mr benedict, driven by kindness and compassion and wanting to help people. he'd probably still just be some famous rich inventor, best case scenario not particularly aiming at anything evil but not really caring about helping either. it's not that he's inherently a bad person, but i think he'd want to control the people around him, be acknowledged/validated as super smart, and just kind of live comfortably.

while mr. benedict, if abandoned and "betrayed".... and considering the context, it does feel different--nicholas wanted to leave because he felt like his brother was controlling him all the time, and at his parents house now felt safe, at peace, and free to be himself. nathaniel doesn't have those goals--although he does want a quiet, clean place rather than the orphanage, so he's still not like Entirely Unsympathetic, but if we're going full swap and he, too, didn't go back for mr benedict on purpose--again i mean i'm not sure he could have if he tried but--than it'd be because of something along the lines of "he drags me down, i will get further without him, why should i give up what *i* earned for him? we love each other and will be happy if only one of us (read: me) gets adopted, right? ANYWAY SORRY back to mr benedict, i feel like in that scenario he also wouldn't react the same way. for one, even in that scene ("it should have been me" "i know" "what do they even see in you" "i don't know") they both expected that if someone were to choose between them, they'd choose nathaniel. i think he'd just be resigned. i mean, even as a grown up the man has self-esteem issues and that's in the timeline where he WAS chosen over his brother (although that might also have to do with the guilt? but not purely, i think) like he consistently devalues his own life/and safety while prioritizing others (which, while arguably admirable, is also really sad) so like. i genuinely think he wouldn't be that far off from where he is in canon. it's hard to say considering i am judging off a version of events where he was adopted, but i just don't think he's the kind of person who holds grudges, or would be upset at his brother for prioritizing himself. (and to be fair, i can also draw off the books version of the character, who also grew up alone in an orphanage and wasn't adopted--prequels near-adoption aside--who still grew into a very similar character, so i think it's fair to say this is accurate.)

so overall, i think curtain would just be kind of a less extreme version of the person we see today--probably still kind of manipulative, but not as severely as to create the emergency. he might be a slightly better dad (we can hope! although he may never have adopted SQ, to be fair) and better person, but more by like [lopsided gold star] you didnt do a war crime! standards

mr benedict, similarly, would have less guilt (and possibly higher self esteem??) and like. having grown up with less resources (presumably? it was unclear how rich the family who adopted him was, they had a big house and lots of books but could only afford one kid, so that implies to me like, they're fine financially speaking but not exactly Wealthy? but he still would have more support and all) he might like, have had more trouble with certain things, like schooling or something? but i think overall he'd still be the same kind, compassionate man we see today. although, actually, the last decade or so he's spent fighting the emergency with that Mission probably didn't happen, so like. i don't know how that would change him--we do see rhonda and number two talking about like "we haven't seen him like this since that engineering talk, i still have a vhs of it, it's nice to see the old mr benedict back" so without the emergency + his brother's betrayal he might also just be happier and less tired and dedicated to passion projects and helping people instead of this world saving mission?? but also would he like. have ever met his close friends/family??? probably not. so he might also be alone. (or maybe he made other close friends/family, or met them in weird unrelated ways--but like, realistically, they met in extraordinary circumstances, and they're all this weird collection of equally bizarre and competent brilliant idiot geniuses, so like. hmmm...)

of course, for more radical speculation, you could say hey! if curtain got raised by loving parents maybe they got him some fuckin therapy and emotional support for those issues! maybe he grew into a more well-adjusted adult! and honestly, that's possible, but hard to imagine, because curtain's character is so goddamn unhinged and bizarre to the core. i mean they both kind of are but in opposite directions, but still. maybe he would have become a better person who made better choices??? maybe???? seems fake but ok

equally strange, i suppose it's possible mr benedict would be upset/bitter, which again, i find kind of hard to imagine, but even so, i don't think he'd ever go the route curtain did. he wouldn't want to hurt people or control them, that's not really his motivation here, he'd just be like... less likely to cooperate during a reunion, and more likely to be quite sad about it. upset, and not wanting to let himself be.

oh oh oh and also how do you think this would affect the REUNION like.......... mr benedict wouldnt be as angry/bitter the way curtain is i don't think, but i mean. it's still gotta hurt, there's gotta be feelings there. and it's not like he can't get angry/upset at all, of course, so i imagine seeing his brother again would stir up some shit. but i think he's also a lot less stubborn on that front, so they'd be more likely to talk it out--although curtain (who actually. probably didn't change his name, and i doubt mr benedict did, either, so like, it's very possible the reunion isn't near as delayed) might refuse to admit wrongdoing and continue to be Himself so. hm.

BUT ANYWAY, ultimately, i think mr benedict is just. a kind person. not inherently through genetics or something, but that's how he responds to things, he's generally kind and understanding, we see this before the adoption (like with the story about tommy jacobs? i hope i remembered his name right lol) and just generally in how he treats everyone around him versus how curtain does. and i think ultimately curtain is just. he wants control, he kind of thinks he’s better than people, and while he isn’t inherently bad (he cares about people, he has a sense of humor, etc.) he also just. seems to put himself first (in opposition to mr benedict who tends to be selfless to a fault, ironically, in a way--partially even due to his “selfish”--and i say that in the least derogatory way possible, because making a “selfish” choice isn’t inherently bad, sometimes self preservation is absolutely necessary). i mean, honestly, martina kind of reminds me of baby curtain, but the difference to me is a) her arrogance/superiority feels more like self confidence (”i am better than a lot of my peers”) rather than believing others to be inherently inferior (”my peers are below me”) and b) her meanness feels more like constance mean (still mean but not really malicious or outright cruel most of the time, although she has her moments) rather than something truly super hurtful (”what do they even see in you?” or talking about him like a fuckin pet??? boy???) and like. martina is a very likable character. or even constance that matter, she too is kind of mean because of her own personal trauma, she’s a child lashing out and pushing people away, but she isn’t cruel and she clearly cares and helps when it matters. does that make sense??? ANYWAY

i dont know, this is all wild and incoherent speculation, do not take my word as gospel or my final word on the matter, im just spitballing, having fun, this is fun

FJJFKF thank you for the ask tho <3 yall can always send me shit like this

#tmbs #mbs #mbs disney #mbs meta #the mysterious benedict society #nicholas benedict #mr. curtain #im sorry i should have responded more specifically to your actual words but i jeard What If They Swapped and went feral #also another fun question: how would they be different if both or neither of them had gotten adopted?#askbox #also i dont think like curtain would feel guilty #maybe a little twinge of ... what if.... but then like #ruthlessly crushed #while mr benedict felt incredibly guilty #despite like. lowkey having a better reason lmao

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not-wholly-unheroic · 4 years ago

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Although I don’t like how Disney want to “justify” villains like Maleficent, Randall Boggs, Cruella, I want to see Hook’s prequel so bad! For me he’s truly the one and only villain that need to be redeemed, because he is a lonely depressed man with a tragic life. And people love him more than Peter, Wendy or Tink!

I would LOVE for Disney to do a backstory and/or redemption arc for Hook. I keep hoping Serena Valentino will add Hook to her Disney Villains book series (which I’ve thoroughly enjoyed so far).

The trick is, any story where the traditional villain becomes the protagonist has to be done JUST RIGHT to make it work. The thing that bothered me with Maleficent was how the retelling tried to make us like her by completely obliterating King Stefan’s character. Stefan did not deserve that kind of character assassination, and if you have to make the good guy look like a total jerk to make the villain likable, that’s honestly just lazy writing, in my opinion.

The thing I love about Peter Pan is that NEITHER hero nor villain is totally black or white. There is a lot of morally gray area where the two overlap, and it makes Hook and Pan both very likable and very human. Too often, people try to make the villain into an innocent victim to make the audience like them, and I think that honestly does the story a disservice. Hook is no angel. Let’s not forget, he DOES try to kill children...even children who have never done anything to him personally if they get in the way of his fight with Peter. He’s not a good person (though I fully believe he is capable of BECOMING one). We can like him as a character and sympathize with him without excusing his actions. That’s not to say Peter is completely innocent either. Regardless of the circumstances, severing a body part from someone and feeding it to a crocodile is...disturbing, to say the least. But the thing is...Peter is not just physically but mentally still a child, and there’s a reason why we don’t charge child criminals the same way that we charge adults. Even the most morally and emotionally mature twelve year-old in the world isn’t capable of understanding on the same level that an adult is. Peter SHOULD be held accountable for his actions...but we should also remember that Hook is the adult, here, and Peter is the child. And it’s the adult’s responsibility to take the moral high ground even when the child does not.

Peter is fun, adventurous, jovial, and daring...but he’s also irresponsible, selfish, cocky, and careless. Hook is short-tempered, violent, obsessive, and cruel...but he’s also charming, sensitive, intelligent, and has a sense of form. Neither is completely good or completely evil, and that’s what makes them so compelling. Give me a backstory for Hook that absolutely breaks my heart for him any day...but give me a story that keeps his flawed humanity.

#Captain Hook #Peter Pan #captain james hook #james hook #captain hook disney #disney peter pan #disney villains

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brywrites · 4 years ago

Text

Flight Risk IV

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part IV: In which airplane food is disappointing and the context of a case is heavy.

( Series Masterlist ) ( Previous | Next )

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Arthur stands waiting for her outside the jet stairs. “So you’re on speaking terms again?”

She freezes, hands still lifted in the middle of adjusting her cap. “What do you mean?”

Arthur gives half a shrug and begins climbing up into the plane. He’s not one to pry into the lives of other people, but she’s discovered he does make occasional exceptions to this rule. “Simply that you seem much happier to be around Dr. Reid today. Your scowl is gone.”

Her face flushes and she’s grateful he can’t see it as they file into the cockpit. “We talked, yes. I think we’ve reached an understanding.”

Arthur gives a noncommittal, mmmm, and gets to work adjusting Geff’s controls. She does the same, going through routine checks, only to be interrupted by a quiet, “Just be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Y/N blinks, then looks down quickly. She doesn’t ask him to elaborate; Captain Dobson isn’t one for sentimental attachments or expressions. The fact that he’s saying this at all speaks volumes. It makes her happy, to know he considers her someone close. The BAU is obviously close-knit, she’s heard them refer to themselves more than once as a “family.” But the two of them, bound by similar schedules and shared challenges, they’re something of that sort too. Perhaps that makes them distant cousins of the FBI.

The team boards the plane, they’re cleared for takeoff, and it’s all smooth flying and blue skies for a solid three hours. They’re both tired, and the thought of being able to go home and sleep in her own comfortable bed lifts her spirits – until the cockpit door slides open and Agent Rossi steps in.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he says. “We just got word of a case in Houston. Two previous victims and now there’s a kid missing.”

A kid. Oh, god. Rossi looks genuinely apologetic, but Arthur nods.

“We’ll change course immediately.” Rossi murmurs a thank you, then slides the door closed once more, muffling the voices of the other agents, already discussing the case behind them.

Y/N follows all orders, gets in touch with the air traffic controller, telling Indianapolis Center that they’ll be changing directions and heading for Houston. Other than exchanges with ATC and instructions to shift speeds and change controls, they fly in silence. It’s a heavy quiet, weighed both by an acknowledgement that somewhere, something horrible has happened, as well as the fact that they won’t be going home tonight.

It’s harder for Arthur, he has a boyfriend to go home to, people who need him. She has less attachments, but has no desire to spend more time in a small motel once again. Still, things could be worse. It’s important work.

“I think we’ve still got lunches prepared that I could heat up,” she offers. “What do you want – the chicken or the pasta?”

“Pasta,” he replies, without missing a beat.

“You always take the pasta.”

“I’m the captain. When your epaulets have four stripes, you can claim it first.”

“I don’t know why we even bother with the chicken,” she grumbles. “We both hate airplane meat.”

“You know the rules. We can’t have the same meal.”

Y/N carefully clambers to the sliding door. “I know. But honestly, how many planes have gone down as a result of the food?”

“There have been some close calls. Japan Air, 1975, omelets. Overseas National, 1982, tapioca. British Airways, 1984, hors d’oeuvres.” She rolls her eyes, but begrudgingly goes to fetch the saran-wrapped meals. Slipping out of the cockpit, she catches bits and pieces of conversation as the team begins to work. The previous victims were a little older, most in their early and mid-twenties. All women with blonde hair.

“But Caroline Chapman is only twelve,” Morgan adds. “Though she fits the physical type.” Twelve years old. Her stomach turns, and it has nothing to do with the plane. She swallows hard and grabs the meals from the warm tray, hurrying back to the cockpit before she can hear anything else.

Their world is so different from hers. Their work is so heavy. Sometimes, in the silence of the flight, she pretends she’s a commercial pilot, bringing passengers somewhere cheerful. Maybe part of the crew on one of those Make-A-Wish flights.

The pilots eat in silence, then Arthur, sensing she needs a distraction, begins one of their infamous verbal games.

“Fortunately,” begins Arthur, thinking it over, “I’m taking a vacation in Seattle.”

“Unfortunately,” she counters, “climate change has turned Seattle to a frozen wasteland.”

“Fortunately, I’m an Iditarod champion and getting around won’t be an issue.”

“Unfortunately, the number of confused squirrels on the snow is distracting the sled dogs.”

Back and forth they continue, trying to create the most complicated situation until one of them has no counterpoint, or says something so absolutely outlandish they must concede. Sometimes their games can carry on for almost an hour; depending on which one they’re playing. This one finally ends when Arthur claims he’s saved up enough vacation time, and she rebuttals that the BAU has called in an emergency and he has to come fly the plane.

“Ah,” says Arthur, “fortunately Seattle is a frozen wasteland and no planes can take off.”

Y/N admits defeat. They sit in silence, cloud rushing past them. Then she says, “They’re only twelve.”

“I heard,” he says, starting straight ahead at the sky. She shifts in her seat, searching for the words to explain how she’s feeling. Arthur adds, “You can’t think about it too much. That’s their job.”

That’s all he has to say. A few hours later, they touch down just outside of Houston, and the agents file off to SUVs. She and Arthur prepare Geff for his overnight stay at the little airport they’ve landed at, before going off to the hotel. It’s been a long day, and they end up staying at the same one as the team. After a nap, she takes a long hot shower, and they order takeout, exhausted from the long flight.

Dinner arrives at nearly 8 pm; Arthur takes his to his room, and she makes herself comfortable in the lobby. Wet hair thrown up in a bun, a sweatshirt and leggings. That’s the nice thing about traveling. Nobody knows her. She can be anyone in a new city, only to disappear a few days later and leave only faint traces of herself. The sun has nearly disappeared outside the lobby window, when half of the team comes in, looking entirely drained. They head off in different directions, and she’s pleasantly surprised when Reid goes not to his room, but to join her on the hotel lobby couch. Y/N tries not to look too excited.

“You look tired,” she remarks. Holds out the container of pad thai and chopsticks. “Have you eaten yet?”

He politely refuses. “I have, thanks. Besides, I don’t know how to use chopsticks.”

“What? We’re going to have to fix this.” Her joking smile shrinks to one of hesitancy when she asks, “How are you doing?”

Reid shrugs, runs his hand through his long hair. It seems the more stressed he is, the messier it gets, and something makes her want to sit him down and brush her fingers through it until he looks calm.

“We’ve got enough for a partial profile, but that’s it. We still don’t have – I mean, we still can’t find the girl.”

Arthur explicitly warned her not to get involved, not to think about it. And yet, she asks, “So… what does that mean?” She knows enough to realize it’s not good.

Reid purses his lips. “The first hour is the most important. When a stranger abducts a child, it doesn’t always mean they’ll be killed. But of the children who are, almost half die within the first hour. Nearly all of them are killed within the first twenty-four, and we just passed that mark. Hotch, JJ, and Rossi are still out looking, with the CARD team. In five hours, they’ll come back and I’ll go out with Morgan and Kate.”

Kate Callahan is the newest member of their team, a short woman with dark hair and no time for anyone’s crap. She likes the way they look out for each other, making sure they have a chance to rest. But twenty-four hours, it’s such a short timespan. Gone too soon already. What does that mean for Caroline Chapman?

“Are you okay?” Reid asks, tilting his head. His voice is gentle, making it easy to admit to him what she hates to admit to herself.

“This job – it’s different for us, you know? As pilots,” she says. “You’re trained for this. It’s what you know you’ll be doing, going off to fight evil and save lives. I never thought I’d be involved with that. I mean, I like this job, don’t get me wrong. But I love flying. And lately, every time I get a call from work, my heart breaks because I know the only reason I’m going up in the air is because something terrible has happened to someone, and I just don’t know how to reconcile that. Every time I get into that plane, every time we get Geff off the ground, we’re taking you all to danger, and I only get to do what I love because someone else has suffered a tragedy.”

It’s so complicated, to have her great love for the sky tangled up in this mess she feels when the phone rings. It’s fear and it’s anxiety and it’s sorrow – grief for people she will never even meet. And flying back can be just as difficult. A case closing may mean a happy ending, but it also might mean that a victim is dead, or that an unsub – she’s picked up their lingo – is dead. Either way, there has almost always been some sort of loss. Perhaps in the form of innocence or hope or comfort. She can see it when they board before heading home. This job takes things from them. Will a day come when they have nothing left?

“I know it might sound selfish, but it’s just hard for me to understand. And you,” she adds. “I’m always so happy to see you and talk to you, but that only happens when there’s a case. I feel like I shouldn’t feel that way, not when someone’s life is on the line.”

Does it make sense to him? She hopes it does, because otherwise it’s going to sound so self-centered. Of course his job is more emotionally taxing. Of course she’d rather be a pilot than a profiler. But it hurts her heart each time she hears there’s a case. She grieves for them too. And she worries for the team, her team, their team.

He must understand though, because he places one hand over hers, just long enough for her to understand it’s meant as a comforting gesture, and not purely accidental. Reid doesn’t touch many people, she never sees him shake hands with anyone he doesn’t know. Crossing that barrier is a big deal, and that’s what leaves her all the more surprised.

“It’s okay,” he tells her. “It’s okay to feel whatever you feel – about this job, or a case. You don’t have to disconnect from things or stop being affected by them. But you also don’t have to feel guilty about liking your work. You shouldn’t – you’re a great pilot, and a really good person.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

Reid gives her half a smile, then looks nervously down at the floor. His pulls at his fingers. “You know, maybe we could meet sometime outside of work. That way we can actually talk for a normal amount of time, and we don’t have to worry about anything else.”

“That would be really, really nice.” At that, his smile widens, and she can feel her own mouth mirroring his expression. “Maybe after all this, when we’ve both had enough sleep, we could go get coffee or something? Go to a library?”

Reid’s grin makes his eyes seem less tired, and for a moment it’s so easy to forget the circumstances. “I’d like that.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #flight risk

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leechobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 1

“Not all storms come to disrupt your life, some come to clear your path.”

characters: Cora Crawford words: ~2.9k warnings: mentions of abuse and drowning, suicidal ideation

notes: It’s Cora’s birthday, so here’s chapter one of her story! Don’t know Cora yet? Take a peek at her bio here.

The Crab Isles are not a friendly place.

Nothing about the climate, nor the people for that matter, are welcoming. Found further south than the Scrougelands, the weather is bitterly cold almost year round, making the main livelihood of the islands— crab fishing, as it would be— to be exceptionally dangerous, difficult, and undesirable work.

The attitudes of the island’s inhabitants have only been made worse by the remarks and jokes of the rest of the world; the Crabmen were actually half crab, but whether that half be the top or bottom depended on who you asked.

That bit, of course, was not true. Yet much like the crabs the people fished for, they had developed a hard, almost impermeable shell around themselves, turning their community into a collectively abrasive group. Fiercely protective of their own, intimidating to and wary of anyone else.

The South is unforgiving, and the people who live there have adapted to their harsh environment, becoming harsh and unforgiving themselves. They were a collectively stubborn, selfish and superstitious bunch, quickly weeding out and eliminating what they perceived to be dangerous in order to ensure the survival of their community.

And to them, nothing was more dangerous than Cora.

Cora Crawford came into the world silent, an omen of bad luck that was only fed into when she was discovered to have been born with The Mark. In the center of her palms, a small black circle, almost resembling a bruise, perhaps a touch of dirt, easily missed by the casual observer. But the elders knew this was a mark of dark magic, a soul that came into this world tainted. Evil.

Her parents tried to deny it; not their child, it couldn’t be. No one in the Crawford family had shown a propensity for magic in almost a century, but here she was, undeniably touched by dark forces, silently observing the world with her hauntingly pale blue eyes.

Her father wanted her drowned, as did the elders, but her mother wouldn’t allow it— or so she was told. She found it hard to believe her parents would have ever fought over her life, given how little they cared for it now.

The Mark was rarely seen in the Crab Isles, but was spoken about often. Those with The Mark were said to be stronger than the heaviest winds, more destructive than the fiercest storm, as unpredictable and uncontrollable as the sea. Though her parents tried desperately to deny it, to hide it, the rumor that the Crawford’s girl had The Mark spread through the village like wildfire.

Even if they weren’t sure it was true, those in the community ignored and avoided her, terrified of what she was and what she was capable of. And Cora was scared too. For the first twelve years of her life, she was constantly reminded how dangerous she was and she was silenced, hidden, forbidden to use any magic, even as she could feel it crackling under her skin like lightning, threatening to burst free at any moment.

The power was overwhelming, and she had no way to control it, no one to teach her how. Cora tried, she really tried, to keep her magic hidden, and was successful more often than not. When she did give in and lost control, allowed the power to be free for only a moment, she was punished severely. Her parents hissed foul curses at her as they beat her, reminding her how horrible and evil she was, how she was a threat and hated by everyone around her.

But every beating only seemed to make her magic stronger and harder to tame. And her mark only continued to grow.

What had started as a faint black spot had begun to crawl through the veins of her palms, spreading to her fingertips, turning them black from the tips of her nails to the second knuckle. She knew the mark only grew when she practiced magic, but it didn’t grow every time. She couldn’t predict when it would or wouldn’t spread, and she had no one to ask about it. So instead, she continued to cover the marks and pretend that she didn’t terrify even herself.

This morning, as usual, Cora wakes up earlier than the rest of the household to start her chores, knowing not having them done before breakfast will mean nothing but trouble for her. She sits up in bed and stretches before sliding out of the covers to get dressed. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she pulls her heavy flannels on, then her coat, her hat, her mud boots and finally her gloves before she sneaks down the stairs and out the back door toward the henhouse.

The hens are all huddled together in the coops, unwilling to be outside any longer than necessary. And Cora doesn’t blame them. The weather this time of year is hovers just above freezing, violent storms prone to rolling in from the sea at any time. She stands out in the yard, looking dubiously up at the sky, her hair standing on end from the electricity in the air.

She quickly spreads fresh feed for them and she collects the eggs the hens have laid in her basket before she jogs further down the hill to the barn. The barn used to house about a dozen goats until her younger sister was born, and her parents decided they didn’t need the stress of more mouths to feed.

Truthfully, she was surprised they didn’t get rid of her instead, but she supposed her being able to work on the boat was more helpful to the family than the small amount of money they made from selling the goat’s milk.

Cora missed the goats. They liked her because she fed them, let her lay on them when her father made her sleep outside, and wouldn’t tattle on her if she used their space to practice magic, which is something she couldn’t say about her seven year old sister.

The golden child of the Crawford family, she thinks, rolling her eyes.

The barn is now used to store fishing gear, but it’s still a suitable place to practice her magic if she really wanted, and usually she would. But the lashings on her back from when her sister caught her the week prior have just started to heal, and she really isn’t looking to get any more. At least not today.

Instead, she gently lies back on a pile of netting to stare up at the worn wood of the barn ceiling, pulling off her gloves to call a small orange flame to her fingertips. She lets the flame dance across the black tips of her fingers for a moment, extinguishing the illusion quickly when she hears someone approach.

She wrestles her gloves back on and stands up quickly, picking up the basket of eggs, just as her older brother enters the barn. He studies her for a moment as he leans against the doorframe.

“Ma is lookin’ for the eggs.”

She nods quickly, fumbling with her gloves and the basket. “I’m comin’.”

“I know. I just wanted to find you before Pa came out.” He takes the basket of eggs from her to allow her to fix her gloves properly, watching her with the same green eyes as their father, though his look more kindly on her.

Cora offers him a small smile, nodding in thanks.

Tevin had always been good to her. He was very protective of his younger sister, understanding from a very young age that she was being treated unfairly and unkindly by the people who were supposed to love and care for her most. Everyone in town, including their parents, thought she was dangerous and evil, but he knew her, and he knew she wasn’t, even if she didn’t.

But after speaking up in her defense a few too many times, and receiving just as many beatings for it, Cora told him to stop.

“It’s not like it helps anyway,” she had said.

“Ma is making us breakfast,” Tevin says, looking back toward the house. “We shouldn’t let it get cold.” Cora nods and follows her brother out of the barn and up the hill, picking up the pace as thunder rumbles off in the distance.

The two children enter the kitchen to find their mother preparing their morning oats, their younger sister Orla reading quietly from a book at the table. Riona glances at the two of them, her thin lips pulling into a frown as she takes the basket from Tevin. “I was waitin’ on those.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Cora says, taking her bowl from the counter and heading to her usual spot at the window.

Tevin takes his own bowl from the counter and follows his sisters lead. He joins her to sit on the windowsill, despite having a spot at the table he’s expected to be placed at. “Happy birthday, Cora,” Tevin says, loud enough to pull the attention of their mother toward him. She frowns at her son before turning around to crack an egg in the pan in front of her. “What’re you now, eleven?”

“Thirteen,” she mumbles around a mouthful of oats, which makes Tevin smile.

Cora returns the smile before turning her focus back on her food. He looks just like their father, with the same strong jaw and dark hair, but Tevin smiles so much more that you’d hardly believe they were related.

“Have they said anything to you? About your birthday?” He asks, lowering his voice, although he already knows the answer. Their parents have never celebrated Cora’s birthday, but he keeps hoping one year things will change, for his sister’s sake. Cora glances at him briefly before shoveling another spoonful of oats into her mouth.

Cora doesn’t have to look up from her breakfast to know that Calder had entered the room. She can tell by the way his physical presence darkens the atmosphere of whatever room he walks into instantly, but her eyes fly up toward him nonetheless. He has his long, dark hair tucked into his cap, fully dressed for a day at sea, his emerald eyes flashing dangerously when he sees Tevin sitting next to Cora. He says nothing to anyone as he sits down, his back to his eldest children, his front toward Orla and his wife.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” Riona asks, raising a blond eyebrow at the man.

“Out on the boat,” he responds matter-of-factly, shifting his large body slightly to peak at the book his daughter is reading.

Riona frowns, setting down the plate of eggs in front of her husband. “What d’you mean you’re goin’ out today? Have you seen the storm rollin’ in?”

“Aye, I have. Which only means that there’ll be fewer boats out and more for us to catch. Tevin, Cora, get your things, we’re leavin’.” He shovels the eggs into his mouth in three bites before pushing himself back form the table, heading out the door before anyone can respond.

From his perch on the windowsill, Tevin frowns at the door his father just left through, before he and Cora turn to glance back out the window of their small house. The rising sun is completely obscured behind obsidian clouds, the only light coming from the frequent strikes of lightening on the horizon.

“He’s bloody mad, that man,” he murmurs under his breath, just loud enough for Cora to hear.

She smirks in response, lowering her head to hide her humor. “I could’ve told you that,” she whispers back. The siblings simultaneously hop down off the windowsill and place their bowls on the counter. Cora he follows her brother out of the kitchen and to their bedroom, waiting patiently as he pulls their fishing gear off the shelves and brings it over to her.

“Someone is gonna to die if we go out there,” he sighs, sitting down on the floor to pull his coveralls on over his flannels.

“Maybe that’s what he’s hopin’,” she sighs back, pulling her boots on. She hisses as Tevin smacks her arm with the back of his hand, and she hits him back on his thigh. “Don’t pretend he isn’t.”

He shakes his head, lacing up his own boots. “They don’t want you dead, Cora.”

“You’re just as mad as Pa if you think that’s true.”

Tevin sits up straight to look his sister in the eyes. “I don’t want you dead.”

Cora pauses for half a second before shrugging her heavy outerwear on. She adjusts her gloves, keeping her eyes turned toward the floor. “That I believe.”

Tevin gives her shoulder a squeeze as he stands up. “Come on. We don’t want to keep him waitin’.”

The docks are full of boats and void of people, which is exactly what Cora had expected. It’s started to rain by the time she and her brother climb aboard their father’s fishing boat, and they immediately set about their usual tasks to help the rest of the crew get the boat quickly out into sea.

“Oy, Tev! Cora!” A voice calls, and the siblings turn to find the first mate approaching them, fighting the wind to pull their long red hair back away from their face. “What in the name of the god’s is yer pa thinkin’?”

“I wish I could tell you,” Tevin responds with a shrug.

They shake their head, looking out to sea as Calder steers the ship out of the harbor. “He’s bloody mad.”

“That’s what I said,” Tevin says, pushing his already soaked hair out of his eyes. “How soon d’you reckon he realizes this won’t work?”

“Not soon enough,” they answer grimly, giving the siblings each a pat on the shoulder before heading toward the bow to help get the fishing nets ready.

Once out of the break wall, the storm is worse than Cora could have imagined. The wind is strong enough to knock the ship over on its own, but the waves are doing their part to help out, crashing onto the deck every few seconds, making it impossible to cast any nets. The storm is howling too loud to hear anything over the wind, and the relentless splashing of salt water is making it difficult for Cora to keep her eyes open.

We’re all going to die here, Cora finds herself thinking. Not just me.

“Cora! We’ve got to get below deck!” Tevin screams, his hand wrapping firmly around her wrist. “Come on!”

Cora does her best to open her eyes as her brother drags them across the deck, pausing every few feet to grab onto something sturdy as another wave floods the ship.

Suddenly, his hand is gone from her wrist, and she screams for him, panicked that the waves may have taken him overboard. She can hear every other word of her father’s booming yell as he approaches, and is relieved to hear Tevin screaming back in response.

With one arm wrapped as much as it can be around the mast, she opens her eyes against the wind, using her free hand to shield her eyes, trying unsuccessfully to make out either her brother or her father through the relentless downpour.

Without warning, a pair of large hands grab her by her upper arms, and she blinks furiously at them, thrashing in their hold. Her skin goes cold as she finds herself staring into her father’s green eyes. He says nothing, just holds her about a foot off the ground, seemingly oblivious to the storm raging around them.

“Pa!” She hears Tevin call out. “Pa!”

“I should have killed you when you were born,” Calder hisses, his deep voice ringing out clear over the wind.

“Pa!” Tevin shrieks, his voice panicked. “Let her go!”

Calder keeps his eyes on his daughter, on his burden, his curse, his greatest shame. Cora knows better than to say anything, so instead, she clenches her jaw and holds his gaze. And then she begins to silently pray, her tears mixing with the salt from the sea, asking the gods to have mercy on her.

As another wave crashes over top of the ship, Calder does just what Tevin asked. He takes two steps toward the side of the ship and throws her with ease over the side, allowing the force of the wave to carry her overboard.

Cora Crawford has thought about death more than any child ever should. She thought she deserved to die, that the world would be better off without her. She considered ways she could make death come for her sooner, but she never followed through. The idea of death was terrifying to her. If she was evil in this life, what would be waiting for her in the next?

As she hits the water, the air is forced from her lungs, immediately sending her into a panic. She struggles against the water, trying to kick up toward the surface, but the weight of her clothing and the movement of the sea keeps beating her down further and further, until she can’t tell which direction the surface is.

And the realization hits her; I’m going to die.

Knowing this, she stops fighting, allows her body to relax and lets the current take her where it may. Suddenly, all she feels is calm, protected even, cocooned by the silence and movement of the water. No one could hurt her here. She couldn’t hurt anyone. Even if the next life was worse than this one, she had this fleeting moment to finally feel safe, from herself and everyone else.

Exhaling the last bit of oxygen left in her chest, Cora lets the darkness she was born from reclaim her.

#cora crawford #the arcana #the arcana oc #hbd cora!#all angst all the time #im thinking thats just her tag now #abuse cw #drowning cw

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a-shakespearean-in-paris · 4 years ago

Text

Favorite Passages of 2020

thought I’d start a new tag for writers for the end of the year--favorite lines/ passages written. There might be a tag like this already but hey I felt like taking a trip down memory lane. I feel like this year has seen me grow a lot. I finished 3 WIPs from 3 different fandoms and decided to make a part 2 of a previously finished fic. What a year, what a year, am I right? Fic writing has certainly made the days easier, made me happy and taken my mind off of situations.

Obviously the year isn’t over yet maybe something will overtake this, but I felt like taking a trip through memory lane. Also, number five has some light smut.

tagging @laraslandlockedblues @ma-sulevin @kemvee @galadrieljones @thevikingwoman @jentrevellan @wardenari @roguelioness @idrelle @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold @queen-kass-the-writer @ellenembee

1. Only Lovers, Resident Evil, Leon S. Kennedy x Ada Wong

She laughs to herself. One moment, they told each other last night. And this is it. They were fools. They’re still fools. Happy, sated, blissful fools. And lovers.

And yet, it’d be cruel not to tell him, to let him live in an illusion.

“You don’t love me,” she whispers. “you love the me you think about when you’re lonely.”

“Not lonely now.”

He glances at her with a mischievous, knowing look. “Neither am I,” she tells him, and she even plays the part, tells him she loves him too. They’re only lovers now, after all.

“You didn’t have to say that,” he says. “I know what’s true.”

“Then what’s true?”

He rises, faces her. He cups her cheek, caresses her face. He follows with a gentle kiss.

“Now,” he whispers. “Us.”

***This is from my one shot of Leon and Ada from the Resident Evil games. I played the game over quarantine and my twelve year old feels for the femme fatale and hot agent reignited, so I wanted to tribute that. Now I like Leon and Ada vastly more than Leon and Claire because I just find it more interesting--but beyond that I really wanted to explore an enemies to lovers relationship. They’re on two different sides of a war but they can’t help that attraction and pull, and I just like the idea they kind of see each other sometimes and release some tension, though both skirt around the idea of love. I like this passage because it encapsulates their tense yet dynamic and even romantic pull. Plus when I wrote “you don’t love me, you love the me you think about when you’re lonely” I just felt really powerful and badass, and I collect badass lines that come to my head for future wham lines in my writing, and I am 90 percent sure this was one such line. Either that or it came to me as I was writing, but I honestly don’t remember.

2. Love Song on Sapphire Isle, GOT, Jaime x Brienne

From the palace, there’s a strum of a lute, the sound intermingling with the crash of the waves that’s melodic and lulling. They stand side by side, listening to the song—a love song, though Jaime says she is his love song, his greatest adventure. And she wraps her arms around him, and tells him he is her love song, and her later. Though now, she thinks her later has turned into an always.

***This is from my Jaime and Brienne longfic, a pseudo fix it that really just made me feel better after how disappointed I was with where they took Jaime and Brienne’s arc in the show. Come on George make them each other’s true love in the books I know you are prove those people who can’t read subtext wrong In the fic the term “later,” is part of their romantic dynamic, Jaime and Brienne always telling each other there will be time for romance later before the battle. then they get their later and and they’re stuck in a rut, not knowing what exactly to do. The last chapter, a snap shot of their “later,” years after the penultimate fic chapter, shows the life they’ve built. I tell my kids in my class that their final lines in a paper should pack a punch, and I think with everything that happened in the fic and the idea of later, it was the perfect final line.

3.The Sweetest Sorrow, RDR2. Arthur Morgan x Charlotte Balfour

Come back, she said to him, sitting by their favorite spot in the clearing by the water. I know what you said, and I accepted it, but it is not easy to be the one that waits. It’s not fair that I am always the one that waits. These men in old stories, men like Arthur who masqueraded as an outlaw but were also knights, thought they had the harder duties. Charlotte, though she would always sing for Arthur and the good man underneath that always won over the evil bad man he claimed to be, was tired of singing songs of those men. She sung praises for Penelope and other women like her, the waiters. She sung for herself and her strength, and waited for the day when she could show him again just how strong she was, as strong as him. If only he would come back, one more time. She made sure to pour longings and promises in their parting kiss after he said that she gave him his dream. She kissed him to woo him back.

“Come back,” she said, and she hoped the wind carried her prayers. Come back to me Arthur, she wrote on her journal in her lap. She prayed that her longing, tangible in the words she wrote and spoke would make him stronger, beat that vile thing that had made it’s way into her once proud man and withering him. If he came back and it turned that he had given her his ailment, they could be brave together. She was tired of being brave alone. She was good at being alone, but that didn’t mean she had to endure it.

Come back.

Arthur was made to believe he was alone, and he had to be alone with his ailment. She couldn’t rely on their last conversation, her last kiss to him. Once he was away from her she knew his duty and self-sacrifice would win. Why, why did she not go with him, why did she allow herself to think she had to be the one that stayed? If she was his equal, she would have showed him.

Come back.

He wasn’t alone. He could find a way back to her once everything was fixed, but nothing could ever become truly fixed. Would he remain and remain, hopelessly fixing until he became too frail and withered? She knew him. He would. He was too much of a good man, especially now.

Come back.

It wasn’t that she wanted him to be selfish. She wanted him to be true to himself. But that man was wrestling with a giant called doubt.

Come back.

The wind blew her journal to the last few dozen pages. She hadn’t realized how worn it was before, how the binding was tearing and the pages weren’t sticking to the spine as they used to. Come back, she wrote. Come back to me Arthur. Again and again, she wrote, more furious than the last, her hand flying through her remaining blank pages. The wind was strong, and before she could catch one of the pages that ripped out, she could only watch as the wind ripped it’s away across the stream. More pages began to fly from her journal with all the same messages, come back, come back, Arthur come back, don’t leave me in this dark, cruel place where I can’t find you. Some fell in the river, some were carried to the clearing behind her.

She lost all her blank pages. She didn’t mourn.

“Come back,” she said once more, for the final time. “Come back.”

***So I stopped updating this fic in 2019 because I lost the muse. Frankly too I spent the bulk of writing this story in an unhappy mood, and I associated a lot of my feelings of the time when I thought about going back. however, wanting to replay RDR2 made me fall for Arthur all over again, and made me want to come back to this world, so I reread it and tidied it up and went back. I found I no longer associated the fic with my mood at the time and could appreciate it as it’s own thing. The meta of this section and why I’m found of it is that the idea of blank pages is associated with Arthur and Charlotte’s relationship. they want to write a story together and fill up their blank pages together. Plus I am just very attached to the image of Charlotte writing in a journal and the pages getting lost in the wind. Also love the literary references and allusions in this fic, and you can see that here. Truth to be told i think this is one of my technically best fics for it’s consistency and build. Also, Arthur lives.

4. Memoirs of a Long, Long Time, Morrigan x Warden

Rowan had no shame. Once outside the blacksmith’s, he took Morrigan’s hand, leading her out by the water. He held up his hand to Alistair, Leliana and Sten, promising it would be one moment, and one moment only.

“Yes?” she asked, with a dollop of sugary sweetness

He didn’t play games. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Why are you?” she fired back. “We are here for the Arl, not to save the entire village."

“Look around,” he told her. “Who will help these people if I do not?”

“Yet to accept a kiss? From that woman? Shall we keep our list? Leliana, that girl in the chantry, the tavern wench…me….”

He didn’t care if Alistair, Leliana, and Sten were all watching. “You know what I feel for you is different,” he muttered.

“Oh? Is it?”

“Shall I kiss you now to prove it?”

“But I do wonder if you would, gallant knight from a story book? You—”

He took her hand and pulled their bodies closer together, her words disappearing. “Am I a knight, or rogue?” he asked her. “No. I’m a Grey Warden.”

She bit her lip, mesmerized by his. Oh, to have done it then before battle, in front of his companions.

It was a nice thought, but it wasn’t what he wanted.

“I won’t kiss you now,” he said, “though a kiss before battle is what the bards sing of. I’d rather wait to kiss you when you aren’t so…salty. Kisses taste better that way.”

The temptress, Witch of the Wilds smiled, both agreeing with him, and knowing he did indeed want her lips and her lips alone. She stood by his side in battle, and then stood by his side come morning when the village remained. When Bella thanked him again after they came to the tavern with for complimentary glass of mead—a small reprieve before they would head to Castle Redcliffe— Morrigan said nothing and merely stood by his side, her arm pressed against his. When his mead sat untouched on the counter after a few sips, she took his glass and took a sip.

“I suppose I am to wait till after we storm the castle?” she asked.

“If I find a small grotto to take you. I hear kisses happen only in beautiful places.”

“Then we should do it anywhere you are.”

He flushed with vanity. He knew he looked tired, with dark, purplish circles under his eyes and scraggly hair that was growing out, though at least it had some wave to it. He lost weight as well, as his cheeks were hollower. His beard was growing as well, and he knew soon he would need to trim it. Frankly, he looked like what he was: a tired man who slept in the woods and was forced to settle every squabble in Redcliffe Village. And yet the Witch of the Wilds, who looked at radiant as she did when he first met her, would have him anywhere. She liked him as he was: tired and frankly annoyed.

He took one last sip of mead before suggesting they meet Teagan. After that, he would be one step closer to his kiss.

Or, not.

***I always wanted to write Morrigan x Warden. I was so close to making the Warden in In Waking Dreams a male that romanced Morrigan and had Kieran with her, but I chickened out and went with what I was most familiar with, a female Cousland who romanced Alistair. Well, 2020. Time to do the creative things that once scared me lol. If I had the will I’d rewrite IWD just to stick in Morrigan and Rowan, but that would be too hard and mess with the timeline, of Cullen and Lyd’s relationship, because the hero of Ferelden is Hawke’s Warden contact in this fic, and there’s no way Rowan wouldn’t visit his wife and son....I mean maybe I can do it but I don’t have the energy, I’d rather just keep IWD as it is, and I do like the Warden in that fic.

Anyway this fic reminds me a lot of a play---fitting because Rowan was once an actor. I really enjoy their dialogue and banter and I think Rowan’s knightish, charming ways come across in his dialogue. Also I’m proud of the way the story is told. It’s his memories, interspersed with the current time, also switches to Morrigan at Skyhold. ****

5. In Waking Dreams: Dragon Age, Cullen x Quiz

Lydia knew it immediately before he handed it to her, the book of Ferelden myths and legends, with the story of Cliodna, the Avvar priestess who roamed the world looking for her lover nestled within the pages. Lydia had a copy before, though different than the one Cullen handed to her. This was the one his mother held in her hands as she read to her children, the one that survived the Blight to be held in Cullen’s hands again, to be given to his lover.

“Cliodna and Concohbar,” Lydia said thumbing through the pages, captivated by the drawing of the long, dark-haired woman, reunited and swimming in the constellations with the man she loved, the final illustration of the book. Her gaze fell back to Cullen, his expression soft.

“Us,” she said.

“We’re us,” he said. “But they do remind of a certain couple I know.” He caressed her face. “We’re in the same constellation, you and I.”

They couldn’t wait. They made love upstairs in his room, the book safely tucked away on his dresser. He sat on the edge of the bed, peeling off her clothes one by one, slowly and savoring each new patch of revealed skin. He pressed a kiss to her belly as she stood fully nude and himself still clothed—though she helped him rid himself of his shirt as he kicked off his boots and pushed down his trousers and smalls. She sat on his thighs, slid her hands down his body, filled herself with him to the brim. He wrote love letters of a happy birthday on her body, made her come against his hand as she thrust herself down and back upon him, riding his thighs as his calloused hands dug into her hips. Moonlight spilled through the gap in his roof, creating her favorite painting—one of a reverent, loving Cullen—a slight Commander to him in the way he whispered how good she felt, how her want was leaking on him, but unquestionably he was her Cullen.

She spoke his name, a chant and prayer stronger than one she ever prayed to the Maker, his arms wrapping around her and grasping as he shuddered and came, pouring inside of her, resting his head against her beating heart.

“My darling,” she said, covered in both their sweats. “My love.”

“Be honest,” he said against her breasts, peering at her. “Would you have preferred our secret place, something else today? You said you wanted quiet.”

She stroked his bearded face, tousled his hair. “What you all did was perfect. And you coordinated it?”

“Mostly Josephine. But I had some ideas.”

She grinned. “Darling. You have given me the happiest of days.”

***Well, I always wanted to continue IWD, just got caught up in other fandoms. Plus I didn’t think I was ready yet. Believe me I tried but I had no clue where to start. Well, I finally learned: Lydia’s birthday, Cullen throwing her a party. Actually I do enjoy this whole chapter--it’s Lydia and Cullen being romantic and fun and throwing out their pet names, the two just enjoying each other as they are. It’s so refreshing to see them happy and not uptight in a canon fic, because oooh boy rereading the fic and getting back into the world made me realize just how damn dramatic they are, lol. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, we high drama here or we go home. Anyway, really happy to be back, like over the moon even, and I had a reader tell me my writing has improved since I finished in 2018. So, it was quite nice to hear, quite affirming.******

Part of me has never gotten rid of my innate flowy language, but I do think I have improved with just saying what I need to say with no embellishment at certain points.

#aeon #cullen x inquisitor #warden x morrigan #arthur morgan x charlotte balfour #jaime x brienne #braime #arthur morgan #cullen rutherford #dragon age #resident evil #rdr2

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halfwall · 4 years ago

Photo

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❪ ⠀ * ⠀ ─ hello! i’m so excited for this genuinely, it is so seksi and socks + soda did such an amazing job with it. eunjung is my newest muse and the best way i can describe her is if you took a garden snake and aged it up manually in the sims and then took it into the spore game and gave it lips and made it a predator. in other words, my very own looks like a cinnamon roll could k-word you ( kiss? kill? your choice <3 ). this intro is a condensed version of my goog dooc and it’s still long <3 pls love n plot w me anyway. love u guys.

❪ kang mina, cis woman, she / her, twenty one. ❫ i can feel red energy, that must be yun eunjung. the third year print journalism & international relations major works as a bookkeeper at the house of the lucky gander, and is known around the manor as the yellow wallpaper. i’ve heard whispers about how they’re critical and pedantic, but everyone says they’re persevering and formidable. i don’t know what to believe... but with cc pulling the strings...

links: google doc, pinterest, stats, wanted connections.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

full name : yun eunjung

nickname(s) / alias(es) : emma yoon ( english name, not used ), tbd

age / dob : twenty one / apr 18 ‘99

hometown : tbd , oregon

current location : fortuna , maine

ethnicity : korean

nationality : english

gender : cis woman

pronouns : she / her

orientation : bisexual

religion : agnostic.

family : yun hajun ( father, alive ), han minji ( mother, alive ), yun eunsang ( twin brother, status unknown ), yun sangjung ( younger brother, deceased ).

face claim : kang mina

language(s) spoken : korean ( first language ), english

speech : sharp tongued. she’s a lot of opinions and a lot of things to say, therefore has never learned how to phrase things in a way that would deem her polite. often blunt, she’ll be quick to rip off the bandaid and just say what needs to be said. she doesn’t speak with much class or extravagancies, rather falls toward crassness and crudeness due to her upbringing.

hair : quite dark, a nice chocolate in the sun and a cool onyx in the dark. often tied back, though eunjung is only ever seen with her hair in two distinct styles: tied back messily or let down naturally. her hair falls straight as if it’s been flat ironed.

eyes : big, round, and doe eyed, a dark brown in color. quite the weapon to use when she’s in trouble or when she needs to talk her way out of something ( to proclaim innocence ).

height : five feet , seven inches.

build : lithe. as a former volleyball player, she has kept her shape up with rigorous conditioning ( mainly because if she’s to admit it, if she doesn’t she kind of gets lost in the walls ).

tattoos : none .

piercings : only earlobes .

scars : multiple from surgeries at sixteen.

clothing style : preppy, thanks to her settlement money and her own personal taste. never a hair out of place due to her perfectionistic personality and nature, though if you catch her on any given night, you’ll see her true colors shine through with old ( very old ) sweatpants and a hoodie that has someone else’s name written on the tag in hangul.

usual expression : sour, bitter – life has handed her a poor hand and she’ll make it everyone’s problem. she has one usual expression and it’s resting mean face; not the kind of person to wear her heart on her sleeve, she looks the exact same when she looks happy as she does sad, though – she’s great at acting and lying and you’ve never lived until you’ve watched her go from :| to :) in two seconds.

distinguishing characteristics : doe eyes that scream tragedy – reflecting the stars in the night sky if caught just right, the tilt of her lips when she clearly wants something to work in her favor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

❪ almost directly copied from my google doc i’m sorry ❫

mbti: istj-a, the logistician / most who know her would assume her to be extroverted. not the most reserved in a room and always quick to speak up when she deems it necessary. but, like most logisticians – she’s always had a sharp, fact-based mind. she has always been self sufficient and hates relying on others, often seeing it as a weakness. she is sharp, dedicated and ambitious enough to accomplish whatever she wants to accomplish.

enneagram: 6w5, the guardian / like most of this type, her biggest fear is losing her guidance and stability, which translates into her skepticism of the world. therefore, it often leads to eunjung protecting those she is loyal to, but most importantly: herself. she will often think logically and analytically, solving problems practically and efficiently but she will often be selfish and can come off as cold as a result for her actions.

moral alignment: chaotic evil / eunjung has never been the most – angelic person, though she likes to pretend she is. at the end of the day, after everything she has been through, she has grown to be selfish – prioritizing her own personal gain and pleasure above all good and evil, right and wrong. it could be argued that she belongs in chaotic neutral, but she has no care for law and order, nor a real feeling of her morality anymore.

hogwarts house: slytherin / another reminder of her selfishness and how much she cares about her own well being. all her life as well, she has been told that she is shrewd and too ambitious for her own good which has only given her an incessant drive to prove them all wrong. when it comes down to it, like most slytherins, she will try to view every possible outcome until she finds the outcome that will benefit her the most.

comparable characters: juliet capulet ( romeo & juliet ), jennifer check ( jennifer’s body ), rosalie hale ( twilight ), blair waldorf ( gossip girl ), sansa stark ( game of thrones ).

the rundown: as smart as she is selfish, life has just twisted her to be a bit cold. she isn’t cruel by any means, nor does she necessarily wish hurt and evil upon those around her, but eunjung’s huge main character complex often leads to her priorities being: 1. eunjung 2. yun eunjung 3. eunjung yun. her biggest trait will always be selfishness, followed closely by her rash belief that she is the best in the room at all times.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞

trigger warnings: alcoholism + death

this is a rundown on the biography / death / back room / glass person in the google doc, also better written / explained because it’s not prosey <3

hajun is not a good father, he never has been. from a very young age, all eunjung has heard from him are his drunken spirals about how great they used to be. his surname was once held in a high regard, the name of an empress and he has always dwindled about to the three yun children that because of the greatness he has passed onto them, they must be great too.

eunjung has only ever viewed his spiels as hypocritical though. she has only ever known her dad as a mean drunk who lives in the dirtiest, most run down house in town with his poor three kids. her twin brother, eunsang, her younger brother, sangjung, and her spend their childhoods taking care of each other because nobody else will. their mother does something, they never know what because she only arrives with enough money for groceries and bills and then she leaves.

it’s that way for most of her childhood and most of her life. it’s a continuous cycle of eunjung + eunsang taking care of sangjung ( who starts going my samuel when he’s ten and the twins are twelve. the twins have english names, too, but eunjung has too much pride – like her father – and eunsang is the eldest and will do whatever his twin does out of love ) and eunjung is just – quite the difficult child. she speaks her mind and all of her opinions, as well as letting the festering anger within her too grow because she doesn’t know what else to do with it.

death tw. anyway, by sixteen, she’s just this bitter girl that the boys hook up with because she’s the poor girl from the dirty house on the rundown street. she’s got a reputation as a shrew around town, but she’s fine with being a shrew if she still gets her way. samuel is much more popular than either of the twins ( who are epitome of bad boy / bad girl from the wrong side of the tracks ) and is invited to a party at fourteen. it’s tradition to party in this abandoned mansion out in the woods and basically, an accident happens and samuel is pushed from the second story balcony into the foyer and d-words.

he’d called eunjung before dying though, asking for a ride so the twins had went to go get him but instead found him dead. while trying to figure out what had happened, she spots some kid that doesn’t like her still lingering around so she tries to chase him and he.... like.... pushes her off too and she d-words. end tw.

her back room is just this little room and she still to this day doesn’t know how much time she spent in there because it was just so confusing, all she remembers is that she ( or someone ) was trying to convince herself that she was home and that everything was fine. but, she’s a bitch and was like “uh, actually, i’ve never had a home <3″ and broke out of whatever spell.

her glass person is just her. identical, but trapped in the walls underneath the ugly yellow wallpaper in the room she was in. same as her, just more lifeless and it is really the only thing that still scares her – and it tried to escape the walls, but it couldn’t. the lasting effect is that if she’s alone in a room for more than an hour she swears the walls start stretching like someone’s behind it and just always feeling like she’s being watched. she also doesn’t like looking at her own reflection that much anymore because it just reminds her of her glass person.

anyway, she survives miraculously and after testifying and blah blah blah ( i did research on settlements and i still didn’t understand so ), the family of the kid who pushed her off – and probably samuel – gives the yun family a huge sum of money for their troubles and calls it a settlement. it comes with the condition that eunjung doesn’t sue or bring them up ever again and she’s like fine that’s cool, whatever, i’m rich now.

but her parents still aren’t happy and before samuel’s funeral, eunsang runs away from home, leaving them with only the daughter that neither of them really wanted. she still pushes forward though and ends school as valedictorian, prom queen, etc. and heads to fortuna because she really doesn’t think she can go anywhere and also her counselors are ass <3

she’s studying international relations + print journalism, her hopes are diplomacy or something, but she just chose the majors that she tested highest on on that career test i can’t choose. yeah.

please plot w me i have my wc linked up there or at /w. i love u all i’m sorry this was long.

#coreintro

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dcforts · 4 years ago

Text

[monday 10 - free choice: paradise]

Dean takes the last familiar turn and brings the car to a stop next to a semi-beat up truck.

He gets out and takes a moment to breathe in the clean air, smell the trees all around him and hear the distant sound of the ocean.

Every other week Dean drives up to North Cove and finds himself on the doorsteps of the little cottage James Novak rented for Kelly Kline.

It’s been two months since the birth.

There’s no one to welcome him but he knows that the rumble of his car has announced him already. He smiles to himself at the feeling of anticipation he’s got at seeing them.

He doesn’t take out the door key he’s got in his pocket though, he knows that at this time of the day, when the sun is low, Castiel and Jack will be at the back catching the last rays of the sun.

So he rounds the house and he’s not disappointed.

He spots Jack first. He’s grown again from the last time he’s been here. As a Nephilim, his growing time does not match the one of any other human. He now looks like a ten-year-old, has a big mop of blond hair, bright blue eyes and a crooked friendly smile. Right now he’s standing with his arms outstretched and a focused expression on his face. Floating in front of him there are two trembling leaves that he’s struggling to keep up in the air with the power of his mind.

Homework time then.

Jack must see him with the corner of his eyes because he looks up towards him, and as he shouts “Dean!” the leaves fall back at his feet. He doesn’t seem to care as he runs toward him to hug his waist.

“Hey, kid.” He greets him patting his hair. Turning his head on the side he can see Castiel sitting on the wooden steps between the stone pillars. He is watching them with a soft smile on his lips.

Dean has seen many things in his life, impossible things, extraordinary, once-in-a-lifetime things, but if someone had told him - that first day at the barn and in the many bloody, gruesome battles that had followed that day - that the angel at his side would one day retire from the world to fulfil a promise made to a mother and raise a child everyone was scared of and everyone wanted to use, and that he would protect him and guide him and teach him good from evil, right from wrong, patience and love - he wouldn’t have believed that.

And yet there he is - and there they are.

“Look what Cas taught me,” says Jack and runs back to where he was standing.

Dean drops his bag on the porch and sits next to Castiel. He looks just as he’s always looked every time Dean had come to visit. He’s still got worry in his hands and the weight of past burdens on his shoulders, but the bags under his eyes have almost disappeared and his gaze is steady, clear, his presence solid. He knows what he’s doing, he has no doubts about where he’s supposed to be.

He looks good.

“Hey,” Dean says.

“You are early,” he greets him.

Dean clicks his toungue and escapes his eyes to focus on Jack, feeling a little embarrassed. He shrugs, “Slow week. Plus, sunsets are cool here. Didn’t wanna miss it.”

“They are.”

“Dean, are you watching?” Jack calls.

“Yeah, kid, go ahead.”

Jack takes a deep breath and brings his hands forward, his fingers outstretched. Slowly one leaf raises from the ground by itself, soon followed by another one and again, a third.

Dean claps and whistles so obnoxiously than Castiel leans away and Jack laughs and loses his concentration.

The leaves fall on the ground but he stills bounces full of joy coming towards them. “Did you see that? Did you see?” he says, but he doesn’t give him time to reply. “Cas says that if I keep improving in a few weeks he will teach me how to heal!”

“Whoa, really? That’s awesome!”

“Yes, but it’s enough for tonight,” Castiel says. “Go wash up while we set the table.”

“But - Dean just got here,” whines Jack.

“Yeah, and he is hungry,” says Dean laughing. “come on, after dinner I’ll show you what I brought.”

Jack gasps. “You brought movies? Star Wars?”

Dean winks. “You know it.”

Jack raises a fist. “Yes! And ice cream?”

“No. But you know what? Why don’t we all go get some tomorrow?”

Jack looks at Castiel who just nods.

“Yes!” he yells again beaming.

“Alright, but now go, it’s getting cold out here.”

Jack jogs up the steps and runs inside. “I’ll be right back!” he shouts taking the stairs two at the time.

Dean can see on Castiel’s face the same silly smile he’s probably got himself.

“I’m gonna miss this when he wakes up a teen.”

“Me too,” agrees Castiel. “Although all the energy he has now it’s a lot to deal with every day.”

Dean laughs at him. “That’s cause you’re old, Cas. Like old old.”

Castiel rolls his eyes.

“I can’t believe there was a time when I thought he could be anything but good,” keeps going Dean, throwing a look at the door behind them “You were right, Cas.”

“He’s making incredible progress. With each day he is stronger and more knowledgeable. I’ve never seen something like that.”

“Do you think he’ll be ready soon?”

“You mean, to leave this place?” Castiel sighs and gazes off into the distance. “I don’t like keeping him here either. It’s not right, I know. But I need to make sure that he’ll be able to protect himself from those that are looking for him.”

“Yeah, I get it. But you don’t have to worry that they’ll come find you. Me and Sam, we got ears everywhere. We got this.”

“I know you do.”

The sun is gone and the sky above them is striped of blues and pinks. Dean closes his eyes and imagines the aches of his body disappear - his back that hurts after twelve hours non-stop behind the wheel, the scar from last week’s hunt that hasn’t healed properly yet, the slight headache he’s got after sleeping on a cheap motel pillow.

It almost works.

It feels good, sitting there in the night breeze with Castiel by his side. He wants to say that he misses him, but doesn’t really know how or if he can. It’s not that they saw each other every day when things were good, and to be fair, when had thing ever been good in the first place? But his life with Sam and his visits here, they feel more and more like they are two separate things and he would love for them to become one.

It’s selfish but he says it anyway:

“Maybe you can come stay at the bunker. You know, after the next growth spurt. I know that we always have some drama going on but we can put up some extra warding, and we could help you. You and Jack. If you… if you wanted.”

“I’m sure Jack would like that,” Castiel says and then he looks at him and adds, “as much I would.”

A corner of his mouth goes up but it’s not a smile. His face says that he’s regretful and he too is holding something back. Dean has seen it before.

He can’t take it.

He slaps his tights, says “Alright” as he gets up and then holds out a hand for Castiel to grab.

“Come on, up. I wasn’t kidding, I’m really hungry.”

Castiel huffs a laugh and takes his hand.

“I’ll have you know, we are having vegetables tonight.”

Dean groans as he hauls him up but neither of them let go and they stay there, Castiel on a step up from Dean, their hands clasped together between them.

“Jack needs it.”

“You’re worse than Sam.”

“We have dessert.”

“Pie?”

Castiel sighs. “What else, to make you happy?”

Dean fears that the smile that has blossomed on his lips will cut his face in two.

He squeezes Castiel’s hand without really meaning to but when he feels him squeezing back, he uses that grip as leverage to lurch forward and plant a kiss on his lips.

He can’t take no more regrets, no more holding backs.

“Nothing,” he says and Castiel’s shocked expression immediatly melts into a smile.

When Castiel had first told him about Paradise on earth, he didn’t think he could ever understand.

Now though, he can almost see it too.

For the last time :( I’m participating in the spnstayathomechallenge by @bend-me-shape-me @pray4jensen @helianthus21

I wanted to say thank you so much for organizing this and for being so supportive and nice with your comments! I’ve read them all and I appreciate so much that you took the time to read and write such lovely things. Thank you!! Thank you to everyone else who liked, reblogged, commented. This was the first time for me and you made me feel very welcome and each week a little less scared to put myself out there. Thank you also to the ones who didn’t like what I wrote but did NOT tell me and just moved on. I appreciate that as well. Let’s hope for a next time cause I had a lot of fun <3

#monday 10: free choice #spnstayathome #deancas #destiel #deancas fanfic #this is me completely ignoring you know what of s12 finale #i've watched s12 long after it aired so i lost all the amazing ficlets/codas/canon divergent stuff that the fandom surely came up with #i don't even like kids tropes but i felt robbed anyway of the dad!cas content we could have had #in that beautiful cottage #lots of smiling going on in this one #i needed tenderness #also hands #never enough hand holding when it comes to deancas #too sweet not to be disgusting #deancas ficlet #deancas ficlets #my writing

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