#a lot of lasso fill abuse

[astronite13]

"A spider preaching with poison on its lips, 'To get out of here is to promise me a kiss'."

[unravelingwires]

Pissheads

Priya drops a drink in front of her brother, sitting next to him. “This is a bit of a shithole.”

“I am planning to do something stupid,” Jamie says.

“And you called me?”

Jamie gives her a dirty look.

“What?” Priya asks. “I’ll clean the blood out of the bathtub in the morning, Jamie, but it’s not my job to stop you from slitting your wrists.”

“Yeah, well, Kamala’s busy and Mary’s… away. You’re what’s left.”

“Alright. What am I enabling?” Jamie shows her his email. Priya laughs. “Well, if you want to piss your dad off, that’s one way to do it.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Really? When did they neuter you?”

“Sorry. You’re a bitch.”

“Better.” Priya sighs. “Do you want me to talk you out of it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay, c'mon.” Priya hops off the bar stool. “We can’t get into a real fight here, not this time of day. Let’s find a proper shithole.”

“And what if I don’t want to fight?” Jamie asks. Priya doesn’t answer, crossing her arms and leaning against the bar. Jamie steps off the bar stool, and Priya pushes off the counter to follow him.

When they get to the doorway, Priya freezes, staring at the rain that’d gotten worse since she arrived. Jamie drops his coat on her shoulders, then stalks out, leaving her to breathe in, breathe out, brace herself, and plunge into the storm.

[agentnico]

Shrinking - Season 1 (2023) Review

“What kind of a person hugs and tells!?” is a great line! I get that out of context this quote means nothing to the passive reader, however within the moment and Harrison Ford’s delivery of that line is pure hilarious perfection. If you’re intrigued, it’s the more reason to watch this show!

Plot: A grieving therapist starts to break the rules by telling his clients exactly what he thinks. Jimmy has lost his wife and wants to try a new approach to his loss, but it is unclear how this will help others.

Amongst Apple TV+ aim of dominating the streaming realm, we have been given the pleasure of receiving a new comedy drama series from the writers of Ted Lasso. That’s it - stop there. You sold me this one. As for anyone who hasn’t seen Ted Lasso, it is probably the one main reason to subscribe to the Apple streaming platform. Ted Lasso may just feature the most outright positive set of characters to ever grace television screens. Especially the titular Ted, played charmingly by Jason Sudeikis, offers compassion, humility and decency, even in the face of insults and abuse. His unshakeable good mood could have been an irritating trait in the wrong hands, but Sudeikis gave the character an endearing quality which lifted viewers' spirits. And the surrounding cast around him is for the most part delightfully lovely. Except for Nate. I mean f*** that guy, am I right?? So the writers set out to repeat the magic with the new series titled Shrinking. Does it have the cult status set out by its older football-themed brother? Well...

What Shrinking reminds me of is those early 2000s Judd Apatow comedies, that always featured one outlandish (commonly raunchy) plot point however within that were a set of immature characters who have some growing up to do, featuring earnest themes about love, relationships, friendship and family. With Shrinking there isn’t much raunchiness, however it is very much a show about flawed characters who have some growing up to do. Jason Segel, who previously appeared in a few aforementioned Judd Apatow films, leads the cast here as the grief ridden therapist who has lost his way in life after losing his wife. His growth is as obvious as apples on trees - he needs to let go of the past and learn to appreciate the good things surrounding him in the present. His daughter on the other hand needs to learn that her dad is so much better and supportive than she makes him out to be. And so on forth with the rest of the characters. 

I would say Shrinking is nowhere as remarkable nor memorable as Ted Lasso, however what works in this show’s favour is that it is an easy watch. All the characters are super likeable and watchable, you get plenty of solid humour as well as enough dramatic heft too. Jason Segel as always looks like a lost beat down dog, but that’s weirdly his most appealing charm. If you’ve liked Segel in How I Met Your Mother or Forgetting Sarah Marshall, he’s the same Segel of guy here who’s constantly having a midlife crisis and can never amusingly do anything right without frustrating someone. Harrison Ford gets to stretch out his comedic chops here and receives some of the script’s funniest lines, delivered wonderfully by his regular grizzly grunt-filled voice. Jessica Williams also brings a lot of fast paced energy and excitement to her role, and then I also wanted to give a shout out to Ted McGinley. He plays Segel’s neighbour’s husband, and he’s not in the show much, but whenever he did, he’d always be this overly positive happy go lucky bean. Just so happy and delightful. Love that guy.

In terms of problems, I’d say the show suffers a little from an identity crisis. It’s pitched as a story where a therapist begins to break rules and starts telling his clients exactly what he thinks and telling them what they need to do. And for the first couple of episodes that is somewhat present, but after than this concept if for the most part completely dropped, whereas I wish there could have been more done with it. Additionally, there are certain characters here that are blatantly unlikeable, and I don’t think the show realises this. For example, Ford’s character is suffering from a developing Parkinson’s disease. So he begins reconnecting with his daughter, however she is an outright despicable self centred human being who is absolutely horrible to her dad. Yet the show tries to justify the daughter’s actions by seemingly making it seem like Ford deserves all the berating and neglect from her. Same goes for Segel’s daughter - at times she was annoying too. Basically, it seems like Shrinking makes it seem like all daughters are terrible, which seems a tad perplexing. 

Overall I enjoyed this new Apple TV+ comedy series. I’ve heard they’ve already greenlit a second season, which I am perfectly okay with as it’s a perfectly apt sitcom that one can tune in to on a weekly basis for 30 minutes of giggles. It doesn’t break any new ground, but it’s an easy watch, and sometimes an easy watch is exactly what ones needs.

Overall score: 7/10

[chainofclovers]

Hopefully you don't mind if I slightly breach tumblr etiquette (?!) to reblog with thoughts since you invited hearing theories! We are strangers to each other and I could picture myself accidentally filling like three of the little reply bubbles. 😂

So, I think your criticisms are totally valid--either you feel invested in particular characters or arcs or you don't. But I do want to share why I've personally felt invested in the KJPR arc and why I don't necessarily think it's building to something massive and why I think that may be the point.

I've always seen Ted and Keeley as mirror characters in a lot of ways. She's the first person to genuinely welcome him to London. Their personalities are really similar, in that they're both intelligent and thoughtful people who are frequently underestimated, albeit for different reasons and similar ones. They're both bubbly, warm, and playful. They both struggle deeply with abandonment. They both seem to respond to adversity with a hefty drink, an attitude adjustment, and a sense that if they stop moving it's gonna get real bad.

The three-season arc of Ted Lasso is about the beginning, middle, and--I assume--the end of Ted's time coaching at AFC Richmond. This is a massive life change that has a ripple effect on the entire ensemble cast. Despite being hired under false pretenses and having a relatively uneven performance as coach, it would be difficult to overestimate the cultural shifts that have occurred because Rebecca managed in spite of herself to bring the exact right person into her life and many others' lives at exactly the right time.

And so I'm actually obsessed with the idea that Keeley got a seemingly random email about funding for a business she did not ask for. She wasn't conscious of looking for space from Roy or for an adventure of her own, but it was handed to her seemingly out of the blue. (Or was it?) It mirrors Ted's journey so well that I almost wonder sometimes if we'll find out something nefarious about how Jack's VC firm gets its money--not because I think Jack is evil, but because I think Jack's dad almost definitely is. (And of course, Rebecca isn't evil. She's wonderful. But I still think there are some cool parallels.)

I don't agree with how the writers handled Shandy's departure--I thought that story was going to be about Keeley being on the other side of a mentorship relationship and learning how to navigate uncomfortable things like giving feedback to a former friend turned direct report.

I did feel very drawn to Jack and like we did get enough time to feel the chemistry between her and Keeley. The fast connection and fast-moving relationship felt very real to me, and I loved that their relationship ended up developing Rebecca's character a lot; in the past, Rebecca has felt unable to provide feedback and express concerns on other people's romantic relationships, but she figured out a way to articulate her past experiences with love bombing and emotional abuse/manipulation without making judgmental assumptions about Jack. She was supportive of Keeley's feelings while making it clear that Keeley deserves the best. For me, those insights alone work as a connection point between Keeley's arc and the rest of the show, even though I understand that a person less obsessed with Keeley and Rebecca's relationship than I am might feel differently.

And Barbara! My favorite part of this storyline! Barbara is the anti-Keeley in some ways. Her frustration at Keeley's naiveté reminds me of Nate's very understandable frustration at Ted holding this unearned position of authority. I feel certain that Barbara holds the key to Keeley unlocking some additional truths about herself.

I don't know if Keeley's arc will end with the shuttering of KJPR, or if something incredible will happen to allow the business to thrive, or if it will ultimately fade to something kinda normal...an opportunity that Keeley might choose to leave someday (you're so right that it doesn't really feel like her passion in life) but that taught her some valuable stuff along the way. I actually kind of love the idea that KJPR might be just another life phase, something that didn't end up fitting her very well, because that's such an interesting contrast to the magical, intense, life-changing, challenging experiences Ted has had with coming to London and doing something entirely outside of his comfort zone and having to navigate all the family challenges and bubbling up of old grief that the changes brought up for him. Not everything in life is as monumental as Ted's time at Richmond.

I'm hoping that Keeley and Roy find their way back to each other, and I think that even with the limited number of hours left to tell this story, there's a way for them to reconnect that will feel meaningful. They've already got a foundation together, and none of that work got erased by the time spent apart. They've also weathered some really painful and challenging communication points during the breakup. I would be more skeptical that this would be possible if it weren't for the (again Rebecca-fueled) revelations Roy has about himself in 3x9 as it becomes clear that he has what it takes to not only coach the sport of football but to support the footballers as human beings, and to represent them effectively in the press.

Because of Keeley's experiences this season, she's learned how to set expectations for the people she works with (well, she's on a non-linear journey with this one, but she's made a lot of progress, my favorite being when she lets Barbara know why it was inappropriate that she disrespected Shandy), she's learned that she's not going to become an expert in a vacuum but needs the expertise and patience of other people, she's gotten to have a fling that could have turned into something more, and she was able to navigate the painful truth that no matter how much she wanted the thing with Jack to be more, it wasn't worth sacrificing her own sense of self-worth or apologizing something she wasn't ashamed of. (And yes, I think she learned that lesson even if her fears of abandonment made her send Jack lots of slightly crazy texts. And in some ways, Keeley's communication style here is a bit of a callback to her mirror character Ted, who is still struggling a lot with his feelings about the end of his marriage but spent that night in Amsterdam texting Rebecca a whole lot. Now, I see Jack as a passerby in Keeley's life who she's going to have to learn from and move on from, whereas Rebecca is a soulmate who I think will be a part of Ted's life forever no matter where he ends s3. But still! Mirrors!)

I don't have any strong predictions as to whether there will be any wild revelations about the VC firm funding KJPR or any big professional changes coming for Keeley in the last few episodes, but I've been vibing with my Keeley - Ted parallels (and big contrasts!) and enjoying her journey.

(SORRY TO HIJACK YOUR POST, KIND STRANGER!)

being critical for a moment!

i guess my big fear with Keeley’s arc is that I can’t imagine it ever feeling relevant. this show has surprised me before, but I can’t see how any of this will hit deep or have a grand pay off? We have 3 episodes left.

If she keeps the company or doesn’t, who cares, we don’t have a big emotional investment in this company & I haven’t been sold that Keeley does either. There doesn’t seem to be a big PR crisis at Richmond she could help solve. Jack and Shandy are both gone and both were characters we were never allowed to actually invest in. Romantically, if she gets back with Jamie that won’t work for me as of rn - each time there’s been a moment with them it’s followed by her longing after Jack. As for Roy, is there enough time for them both to grow enough for me to believe they’re coming back together stronger? I’m not so sure. But I also really do not believe I’d be sold on the ‘independent woman’ ending for her either.

I know I’m jumping ahead, but I really don’t know what will make her arc feel complete come series end. (lmk ur theories if u do believe it’s building to something big)

[talkingharrystyles]

🌌 Oh hire a strategist for this train wreck already. I see why Leslie lost her congressional race. Neither her or her daughter understands their targeted demographic, thus fails miserably to market to them.

Damn, the both of you work for Warner Bros (Warner Bros does produce Ted Lasso which people need to remember) and neither can create a believable story?

You mean to say that the same court system who relied on social media to convict Derek Chauvin, to locate those involved in January 6, who uses social media to construct a murder timeline and it’s suspects, who uses SM as evidence for personal injury claims, and was able to expose Amber heard’s abuse of Johnny is suddenly turning a blind eye to Brock’s antics?

The American court systems might be flawed- they’re not going to allow for themselves to be shown as fools for a dried up actress grasping for resurrection.

Your social media posts can be used as evidence against you. Lawyers favor this form of evidence, as it’s one’s own testimony of guilt. It’s not illegally obtained, as one is posting their thoughts to the public. Nothing is ever deleted.

“She deprived me of vacations and time spent with the kids.”

Gag us with a spoon and cry a river. One look at Holivia’s trusted bookkeeper (Styles.Wilde) and all this is easily discredit this.

Wasn’t Easter a holiday? Pretty sure Brock wasn’t hopping around in a bunny suit in England with the kids (Coachella). How about the Fourth of July last year? We didn’t see the kids with Harry in the ocean with their red, white and blue floaties on, while Brock twirled her hair grinning from afar. They weren’t sitting around him while Harry retold Independence Day from the British perspective.

Christmas of last year? New Years? Was Otis and Daisy dressed up as Santa’s little helpers and Harry as Rudolph? Was Mama Anne and Brock pictured at the salon getting their manis and pedis with Daisy, while Gemma whined about “missing traditions”?

Halloween? I know I never saw Otis and Daisy dressed up as little Jeidis with a sign that said “May the force be with you, papa!”

Valentine’s Day? Was Daisy and Otis skipping alongside Brock and Doofy (Tommy)?

How about the times she lured the paps to the kids’ summer camp, used them in walks, dragged them to shows where they were visibly uncomfortable being there. Not to mention how she nearly attended every show in both America and Europe. Don’t care for Brock: Jason, a lot of “quality time” with the kids you felt “deprived of” is actually documented and known to be spent with none other than you, Captain dad.

You all could had, at least, played up the drama for a bit. One day problem, the next it’s quickly resolved? Not only resolved but filled with promo and now renewed “they live together🥹” rumors.

They “live together”: Okay then, why wasn’t Brock and the kids named in the recent burglary? In fact… why hasn’t Brock filed a restraining order against Pablo in order to protect herself and her kids? I mean they all “live at that property”-the lie Jason is using to recorrect the lies told regarding CinemaCon and to add credibility to cohabitation theory- and that property is where he frequented to find Harry… why haven’t Brock filed? Oh right it’s because she wouldn’t be able to provide proof (mail) that she or they do. Hear that? That’s the sound of her and Jason screaming and pissing themselves.

Given Harry’s need for control, if Otis and Daisy were involved in his life, he would had been contacted by the several tabloids on his bankroll weeks ago, and stopped these articles from being printed.

Come on, Harry has learned how to avoid slip ups. He hasn’t been papped since LOT wrap even though people are gaslighted into believing he’s being constantly papped and “fan sighted” on the daily. He’s seen when he wants to be seen and what’s reported about him he knows of it ahead of time. The significant narratives out there of him are the ones he wants out there.

He’s a perfectionist, afterall. While he might found Brock’s habit for impulsive lying a set back, he still is made aware of what generally is being printed ahead of time. He’s also aware of the general discussions. Just because he says he doesn’t give weight to peoples’ opinions, he does. His curiosity, like many of us, lures him to the temptation of listening in on what people are saying about him.

Again, does anyone ever see him with Jackson, Little Rowland, Ruby and other kids when he’s walking the streets with them? Are there pics of the man acting giddy when Mitch went to get Sarah’s ring? When they hosted Mitch bachelor party? When he went to buy them their wedding gifts? How about when he went to the store and assembled Sarah’s baby shower basket? What about when he bought little Rowland’s his books, sentimental clothes, and diapers prior to delivery? Are there “leaked videos” of him in those stores, in the baby section, holding the baby clothes?? That did overlap with the timing of Holivia. I mean surely Harry Styles, who is known to bed hop and is in the hot stage of new romance, to be seen in the infant section shopping for infant items should had been worthy of gossip blogs and tabloids. “HARRY STYLES SEEN IN BABY SHOP! EXCLUSIVE PICS! IS THERE A WILDER-STYLES LOVE CHILD ON THE WAY??” Yet that wasn’t ever printed. Wonder why.

Most of that happened in LA. You know, the same place Brock is gaslighting people to believe that she or him can’t walk without being harassed. Yet, there’s no pics of Harry during those moments. Neither with his other godkids.

Seriously, find a new angle, you idiots. People know you wouldn’t dare to go at each other’s throats by involving the courts. You were together during Weinstein.

Brock, all the mountains of evidence and skeletons Jason would use on you? Girl, you’d be hightailing out of those doors faster than you done at shows when you want to be seen.

Jason, you knew exactly what “I’m going to meet up with Harvey *smiley face*” meant. You allowed it because you wanted to benefit from the connections. Same with Holivia. You allowed and made it possible for her to go to every major event, so that your “Ted Lasso” image would be retained and your victimhood card can be used with the public’s empathy.

Theoretically, if the custody battle was real, best believe neither of them would have custody of the kids right now. After both sides would had aired out the others dirty laundry, the judge would had either placed Otis and Daisy in the care of the grandparents who were the best fit until a decision could be made, with a relative/close friends of moral standing, or in a foster family. Olivia and Jason both have too many skeletons they’re not wanting expose. They’re not going to betray each other, as the illusion they’re making.

If this was a real court hearing: why wasn’t Harry present to give his sworn statements? If he “is” her unnamed current partner, as Jason said to the journalist to add credibility, of almost two years, the courts would had needed to examine him to see if he and his environment would be a safe and secure place for the kids to be around before granting Brock the “win for custody”.

If these two morons can slip through the cracks and find work in the industry, anyone can.

Before leaving (I’ve shared why I’ve limited my presence here months back), Harry you really need to act like you have a pair. Or, at least, one.

The same way you were suckered into agreeing with this under false pretensions, you’re being clowned regarding its aftermath. Placating and thinking “just give they what they wants” isn’t going to promise that you won’t be vilified as you’re not wanting to be by both of them. You will. You already have been with how Brock “has been reconfiguring both her and her kids lives for the guy who couldn’t give two shits about them”.

Best believe that the seeds those two crows have been subtly planting into peoples’ minds are going to have a full harvest. The promise of getting paid and career advancement in exchange for the drama isn’t always going satisfy.

You idolize Mitch & Sarah, Ben & Meredith, childhood’s friends, and Niall’s relationships and experiences. Even Camille’s and Theo’s. Yet are frustrated that that is absent in your own life. That’s a result of you being afraid to do what you know what needs to be done. Excuse the language: just grab them (his courage/guts/balls) already and take a risk.

Talk to you all later.

Oh it’s so good to see your anons again 🫶🌌

[ambrial-blog]

Striker is the proud owner of a prosperous Ranch, with a lot of acres “Known as the “Devil's Snare”

Blitzo lies on his resume about his age, desperately need a job. Striker hires him on the spot to work the weekends. Blitzo is trying to earn enough money to start his own business  and get out of the dusty terrains of Wrath and the ever looming presence of his alcoholic father: who is abusive and manipulative.

Between avoiding Stolas (the school narcissistic president, juggling schoolwork and dodging his two exes, who recently transferred from different schools so they could sink their teeth into the freshmen. And enduring relentless beating from his sadistic father.  

Blitzo's only escape are on the weekends when he can cover up his bruises and tend to the horses. His favorite horse is Bombproof. The firey stallion belonging to the ranch owner.  who is fiercely protective over the imp, and in the evening enjoying the cowboy's company. It is the only time he feels truly at peace. Late night bonfires, pleasant conversation and listening to a few country songs.

Striker takes up a strong liking to the school boy offering his free horseback ridding lessons, in turn for chores around the ranch.  Teaching him how to lasso and other things. Blitzo relishes those long night cast underneath the stars, Striker's jacket around his shoulder while the Cowboy strums a few cords on his guitar.  The sound of Striker's voice filling the air as his tail wraps around the boy's waist.

One night after school, Blitzo come home, only to be cornered by his father. After receiving a vicious beating he is thrown head first down the stairs cracking his head on the concrete floor and lying sprawled out. Only to come to, hours later with a massive contusion to the forehead.  The boy runs up the stairs and pounds on the door, he could hear his father scream at Barbie to leave the basement alone. That the boy needed to learn not to be late. Blitzo spends the entire week, and half of the next locked into the basement deprived of food and water.

Then forced into the light of day only to clean up after his father. A father with a dark secret. The fabled serial killer who terrorized four of the seven rings of hell with his brutal killings. “Jaxx The Ripper”  It was all beginning to make sense now. The sudden disappearance of his mother.  That had caused a rippling effect through mass media. For awhile, it was the only thing the news would broadcast.  The brutal slayings and the mystery behind the killer.  Jaxx had kept the news articles: lining his office with  morbid memoriblillas.  Blitzo being the youngest family member was kept out of the limelight, leaving the brunt of their father's beating to his older twin sister.  Blitzo had two older sisters, and an older brother. Now all he had was Barbie to protect him.

On a cold and rainy autumn night when their father is a way. Barbie goes down into the basement to retrieve her brother. They wouldn't be getting another chance like this.  Barbie-Wire was the one who stuffs Blitzo inside a dumpster.  

Barbie-Wire wedges herself between the dumpster and the grimy walls of the ally, watching a three large and blood-thirsty bloodhounds run past them. She looks up hearing Blitzo's sharp cry from within, and scrambles out of her hiding spot. She lifts the dumpster lead peering in. Her brother's body is contorted painfully.  Barbie screams in pain as one of her father's burly hell hounds snatch her sinking their teethes into her calves and her arms. Blitzo cries out to his sister but is unable to move. He can hear her getting mauled outside.

Jaxx had broken a lot of Blitzo's bones the previous night, and was leaving him to anguish for the night, down in the musty basement. Atop of a slanted table. Cuffed a leather strap muffling his screams.   Jaxx has threatened to take both of them out of school for the foreseeable future if Blitzo doesn't get with the program.

Jaxx wants to sell Blitzo to his best friend, Lord Mammon.  There is talk about a scuffle between Lord Mammon and King Ausmodeous.  He tells Barbie-and Blitzo that they need to pay for their mortgage. Barbie sells her body, to the streets in hopes of supporting her little brother.  Jaxx spends the mortgage money he gets from his daughter on cheap beer a loose women. He neglects his children. Forcing Barbie-and Blitzo into a bind. Stolas says that he would lend them the finances but Blitzo has to be willing to give him something first.  

Jaxx killed his wife and stuffed her inside a septic tank, and then told his children that their flossy of a mother ran away leaving him to raise ungrateful children.  Barbie continues to work the streets, only to have her father collectively spend her hard earned money as soon as he sees it. He considers it his.

He forces Blitzo to clean the house, if it is not up to his standards he takes a belt to his back, and binds Blitzo's limbs together before dragging him down into the basement. He barricades  the door.  Its up to Barbie to feed them and provide tuition for her younger brother.

When he is offered a Job at the “Devil Snare Ranch. Its a much needed reprieve. He uses the paychecks he gets from Striker to help his sister.

  Striker confronts Jaxx one late night in December and threatens to call ICPS: Imp Children protective services on him: he also knows if he does that their Representative: A hard headed chameleon from Greed would take Blitzo away.  

“Where is he?” Striker growls cornering Jaxx hoisting the forty-plus year old serial killer off the ground, “I'll pay for Blitzo the serpent snarls... name your price you piece of scum!”  

“How much are you offering for him? Slick, I get offers for meh boy all the time, one of my greatest assets, takes too much after his mum if you ask me” sneers Jaxx spiting into the cowboy's face. Jaxx leers at  the sun-kissed serpent. Raking his greedy eyes over the muscular form of the wrangler. Before speaking “I could give ya everything ya need for the right price. The boy can be a piece of shit if you ask me, never could keep a clean house.  The killer murmurs to himself raking his hands through his thinning ivory hair.

His “Toys” will cost ya extra though, the filthy bastard sneers. “Now where did I leave them? In his room or down in the basement?” Striker's guts knotted with disgust. The snake imp closes his eyes trying to quell his rage. “No, I'm sure I left them in the basement. Jaxx's voice filters through the room.  “your going to have to sanitize them, if your serious about purchasing my son he goes on to say.  

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Will you be writing another fic? Because your previous chapter got me thinking of Marinette being dipped in the chemical thing like Harley and had been and becomes crazy like them.

Yeah… trigger warnings. I don’t really know the words for a lot of triggers but if you’re squeamish around emotional and physical abuse or Stockholm syndrome I would suggest not reading this

Also, fun fact: this actually was an alternate ending for Satisfied I considered but ended up not doing because it was darker than I wanted the fic to go

Also also, you don’t need to read Satisfied to read this one. There are a few references to the story, but really all you need to know is that Marinette is using the horse miraculous to spy on the Rogues

She hummed lightly as she went around the warehouse, gathering her things (Catwoman had a tendency to take her things, then get bored of them and leave them in random places). She was just about to open a portal when Joker spoke:

“Wait, NightMare, could you come back later tonight?”

A chill ran down her spine and Marinette spun on her heel to face him.

“Of course, Joker, sir. May I know why?” She said as pleasantly as she could.

He only smiled wider behind his mask.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek and opened a portal for herself.

~

Marinette stepped into the warehouse again and hugged herself tightly. There were no Rogues in sight outside of Joker, who was leaning against his cane as he waited for her.

But, while this worried her, what really messed with her was the fact that he was standing on a tarp. She strained to remember whether or not the tarp had been there earlier, because if it hadn’t…

She tasted blood and quickly released her tongue.

The plastic crinkled beneath her as she walked over to him.

“What did you need me for, sir?”

He didn’t answer again.

“Is something wrong?”

The man finally looked at her and icy dread flooded through her veins. He wasn’t smiling.

But she didn’t have time to figure out what his expression meant, because the lights chose that exact moment to flicker and die.

Marinette made two tiny portals and slowly moved them around, using the dim blue light that they gave off as a kind of makeshift flashlight. It was barely anything, she could still only see a few steps ahead of her, but at least it was better than the total darkness she’d just been in.

She looked around for Joker and couldn’t help but panic a little bit when she couldn’t find him. Where had he gone? He was just next to her, and the tarp crinkled underneath her with every step, how had he just up and disappeared without her knowing?

“I’ll go find the fuse box,” she said softly. There was a very low chance that this was a coincidence but she wasn’t going to risk her identity quite yet.

Her eyes peered around the darkness and she started to walk, only to hear the tarp crinkle behind her. She whipped around in surprise just in time to see the mallet coming towards her face.

Her head jerked back so painfully she swore her neck snapped and she found herself weightless.

Or, at least, she felt weightless right up until she slammed into a wall headfirst. She became painfully aware of just how not weightless she was as her body crumpled in on itself.

She slid to the floor slowly. Her head pounded painfully and she could barely see through all the colorful lights dancing in her vision. She tried to shake her head to get rid of them, but it only seemed to make it worse.

Harley came into view and Marinette cursed when she realized that she was the one to hit her with the mallet. The woman wore an uncharacteristically sad expression as she pointed it at her.

“You were really working for Bats the whole time?” She whispered, her voice soft.

“I don’t…” She swallowed back bile and blood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please…”

The woman in front of her sighed. “Liar.”

She raised her mallet and Marinette tried to move her body. It was supposed to move, she was telling it to move, why wouldn’t it move?

The mallet came down on her and her eyes rolled back in her head.

~

God, five senses and all of them sucked.

People were screaming in her left ear. Someone must have manually turned on her comm. Every word felt like a mallet to the head (something that she now could say for certain). Their voices blended together, though, and it was useless to even try to discern what they were saying.

Her nose was bleeding. Every painful breath through her definitely broken nose was accented by the scent of her blood.

She’d tried to breathe through her mouth, only to taste blood instead of smell it.

Someone had bound her in her own lasso, and they hadn’t been gentle. The rope dug into her skin and chaffed against her with every breath.

The lights were back on. She wished they weren’t. The lights were so bright that even having her eyes open a sliver sent pain racing through her skull.

But she needed to see. She peeled her eyes open.

The Rogues were all standing over her, betrayal etched on each of their faces.

Outside of Joker, who looked like he was having the time of his life.

She didn’t really know which was worse.

“So, she’s finally stopped dreaming!” Said Joker brightly. “Now, we have limited time before the bats start tracking you -- if they haven’t already -- so be a doll and tell us which ear your comm is in.”

She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, only to choke on her own blood.

“I’d suggest telling us, it’ll be a lot less painful for you,” said Penguin, pointing his umbrella at her.

Marinette glared up at them, lips pressed together tightly.

“Right, we’ll have to guess,” said Catwoman.

Penguin nodded. He tipped his head from side to side as if considering before he positioned his umbrella under her left ear. She could feel the cold blade against her earlobe and horror filled her as she realized what was happening. He pressed down on her stomach with his foot to hold her still and then sliced upwards.

Her ear fell to the floor beside her.

She nearly bit her tongue off to stop herself from screaming. Unfortunately, she couldn’t help the rest of her reaction: her body wouldn’t stop shaking, tears and blood spilled from her head.

Joker leaned down next to her and checked the wound.

“Wrong one!”

Her eyes widened. But it was the right one. Her tear-filled eyes found Harley’s. Surely, she could tell he was lying. That was her thing. Marinette couldn’t tell them -- if she opened her mouth she would sob, and she could not let them hear that -- but Harley could.

But the woman averted her gaze.

And Penguin pressed harder into her to hold her still again and poised his umbrella over her right ear.

And then he chopped that one off, too.

A guttural scream escaped her lips despite her best attempts to stifle it and she thrashed around desperately.

Joker leaned down and gave a mock gasp of surprise. “Oh!” His voice sounded tiny and far away. “Guess I missed it! Oopsies!”

He reached into her left ear and dug her comm out with his gloved fingers. She spasmed around in her bindings, sobs slipping from between her lips.

She couldn’t even manage to stay conscious long enough to watch him smash her comm -- her last chance of being saved -- under his foot.

~

She woke up to the sound of metal scraping against metal.

It was just Harley and Joker right now, and they were pushing the heavy lid off of a vat of acid.

She was also still tied up, but that was hardly important to her at the moment.

Wait, actually, now that she was trying to get away, it was definitely important to her.

“Oh, look who woke up just in time, Harls!” Said Joker when he noticed her slowly inch-worming away.

She cursed quietly and then shot him a glare. “So, what’s the plan here? Throw me in acid and see if it kills me? It won't.”

Joker laughed, waving her off. “Of course not! This is trial number two of my experiments.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh? An experiment? You have an independent and dependent variable? How are you quantifying it? Where’s your control group?”

Harley shook her head, giving her a look like ‘shut up if you know what’s good for you’.

Marinette, in fact, did not know what was good for her.

“Besides, that implies that you’ve done this before.”

“I have! On Red Robin. Of course, that experiment failed… he didn’t kill Batman like I’d asked him to, but I think I know where I went wrong!”

She raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t heard about this.

“You see, for him I had to be careful how much I tortured him. If I had killed him then it would have been a waste of time and effort. But with you… I can do whatever I want with you and you won’t die.”

Oh. Fuck.

Still, she gave him a cocky grin. “But he snapped out of your brainwashing and everything. Clearly, torture doesn’t work. I doubt the amount you do will make it any different.”

His eyes narrowed.

“We’ll see about that.”

She took a deep breath as he picked her up and brought her to the edge of the vat. She just had to make sure to hold her breath for as long as possible…

Except, the moment her skin touched the acid, she screamed.

It felt like every cell in her body was attempting to break away from her. She screamed until her throat was raw. Every movement pulled another sob from her lips.

She needed to breathe. But there wasn’t anything around her to breathe in besides acid. She tried to hold it off as long as she could, but it was useless. She acid streamed into her nose and mouth and suddenly the pain was on the inside, too.

A different pain started on her scalp and suddenly cold air rushed over her.

Joker had pulled her out by her hair, and was now holding her torso above the acid. Sure, everything still in the acid and her insides were still on fire, but it wasn’t all of her anymore.

“If you want it to stop, just say please.” He cupped his free hand to his ear like he was about to listen to her.

She opened her mouth, prepared to beg despite her pride, but all that came out was acid. Had she forgotten how to breathe? To speak? She tried to force some air into her lungs, she knew the basic motion for breathing, but it couldn’t seem to push through any of the acid.

“Well, if you have nothing to say…”

He pushed her head back under again.

God, she wished she was dead. Her body was trying so hard to die, she could feel it. The problem was the stupid suit she was wearing: the horse miraculous wasn’t about to give up its user without a fight.

She mouthed the words, but it was useless. You have to actually say them. No sound left her lips, so she was forced to remain painfully alive.

She slowly curled in on herself in the acid, unable to do anything besides cry.

And then a hand pulled her out again. This time, to her surprise, she fully left the vat.

She looked at Harley through heavy eyelids and the woman reached out and gently closed her eyes for her.

Joker sounded annoyed as he spoke: “You’d better have some good suggestions, Harley.”

“Of course! I was a psychiatrist, I can break her for you! Here’s what I suggest we do...”

Marinette didn’t get to hear the suggestions, she was too busy falling unconscious.

~

She woke up on the floor of what appeared to be a lab. Clinically bright lights assaulted her eyes and she had to keep her gaze on the ground to stop herself from crying.

She wasn’t bound anymore. This didn’t mean that moving was easy. Her body shook as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

“Ah, she’s awake!” Said Scarecrow’s voice.

Her head whipped around to where it had come from, she hadn’t noticed another person with her, and found it was only a speaker on the wall. Oh. That made more sense.

“Now, this is a new batch. I’ve been working to perfect my fear toxin, and I think this is the one! Do tell me about your experience when this is over.”

She watched as the gas flooded into the room. Adrenaline coursed through her as she looked around. She needed a way out.

There! Maybe! Whatever, she had no other options!

She ran to the observation window. It was one-way glass, she couldn’t see through it, but they had to be there. She threw herself at it as hard as she could and groaned in pain when she realized it was bullet-proof glass. Now she knew how Hood had felt when he’d crashed into that window. No wonder he hadn’t moved for twenty minutes afterward. Her body throbbed painfully.

And why should she move? It wasn’t like she was going to be able to avoid the gas.

She closed her eyes as the gas enveloped her.

For a second there was nothing.

She allowed herself to think that, hey, maybe it was a bust. He’d said it was a new version, after all...

And then she heard screaming.

Her eyes snapped open and she watched with horror at the scene unfolding in front of her.

She was at the Wayne Gala, if the fancy outfits and semi-familiar surroundings meant anything. But it wasn’t the calm, posh event that she’d been told about: everyone was running around and screaming at the top of their lungs.

And she could see why.

The Rogues stood at the door, their goons behind them.

And they were all holding machine guns.

“Tikki, spots on!”

She ran through the crowd, pushing past terrified civilian after terrified civilian. She could see the bats doing the same.

And then they opened fire.

People fell to the ground, riddled with holes.

She couldn’t think about it. She ran faster, desperate to do something. Anything.

A shot nailed her in the head.

She was unconscious before she’d even hit he ground.

Marinette groaned as she pushed herself to a sitting position. Just a nightmare, then. Sunlight glared down on her and she brought up a hand to use to block some of it out so she could open her eyes a little.

And god, did she wish she hadn’t. The area around her was covered in bodies. People, the ghost of their last moments of terror on their face, all slumped over each other, motionless. Dried blood coated the grass.

“Oh, thank god, you’re up. You can fix it, right?” Said Tim, and she quickly turned to look at him. She hadn’t been expecting to see him or the rest of the bats there. She breathed a sigh of relief. They were okay, at least…

And then she processed what he’d asked her.

She looked at the floor to avoid their gazes, which was decidedly a mistake. Bile built up in the back of her throat.

So… so much blood…

Damian clicked his tongue. “C’mon, hurry up. They’ve been dead for ages. They’re going to smell soon.”

Her eyes snapped back to him, and she would have been angry at any other time. Now, though, as she looked at them all…

“I… I didn’t summon a lucky charm. I can’t… I’m so sorry...”

Jason’s eyes widened behind his mask, and then he groaned and brought his hands to his hair. “What the fuck do you mean you can’t?!”

She winced.

“You didn’t think to cast a lucky charm beforehand?” Said Damian with a scowl on his face.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it.”

“How? It’s literally your thing,” said Dick.

Marinette felt tears spill over the front of her mask and she brought up a hand to wipe them away, only to find it was coated in dried blood.

“What the fuck do we even keep you around for?” Jason said, pulling her attention back to them.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. “We should have known after that whole ��murdering a clerk’ incident.”

“That was an accident!”

“The only way you could kill someone accidentally is if you were an idiot.”

“I’m not stupid, but it was an accident!”

They weren’t looking at her anymore.

“I told you we should have tried harder to make her give up after the convenience store stuff,” said Bruce with a tiny frown.

“No, what we should have done was never involve her at all,” said Damian.

Marinette hugged her knees to her chest. Every word they’d said was like another tiny knife through her heart, but…

She looked at Tim. He’d been silent for a while. Surely, he would understand. They were friends, after all, had been even before the costumes and vigilantism. At least he had to have some sort of care for her --.

But then he sneered at her. “How did you fail at the one thing we needed you to do? Could you be any more useless?”

Her heart shattered.

“I’m… I’m not useless! I can still do things! I messed this one up… really bad… but that doesn’t mean I can’t still be useful!” She pushed herself to her feet and ran to him. She grabbed his arm. “Please! I promise, there’s still so much I can do! Please --!”

But he pulled his arm from her with a disgusted expression.

She watched the bats walk away and slowly fell to her knees.

“Please… I’m not useless… Please...”

She buried her face in her hands. Tears trickled between her fingers.

“Don’t leave…”

~

You’d think that, after the third or fourth time, having your friends leave you would hurt less. That you would be numb. But it only seemed to get worse and worse.

Every single time she saw their disgusted expressions, every time she listened to their hurtful words, every time she watched their retreating backs…

It cut deeper and deeper.

She wanted it to stop. Why wouldn’t it? Was there anything she could do to stop it? Or would she be doomed to be alone for the rest of her life?

The screaming restarted.

She sighed and opened her eyes to terrified elites.

Here we go again...

~

A hand gently shook her awake and she opened her eyes.

This was new. Maybe the fear toxin had decided to get creative this time.

Harley was leaning over her.

Marinette would have screamed if she could, but her throat was raw from crying.

Still, she sunk into the floor as much as she could.

“Hey, darlin’, it’s okay…” said Harley gently. She held out a hand and Marinette flinched. Then she realized that the woman was offering a glass of water.

She frowned. Was it poisoned? She didn’t think she had a deep-rooted fear of being poisoned, but there was no other reason the woman would be doing this for her.

Harley sighed quietly and took a sip, then offered it to Marinette again. “It’s not poisoned, darlin’.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly and slowly downed the water. It wasn’t enough. She felt like she could drink an entire pool’s worth of water and still be thirsty. But she wasn’t going to risk asking for it.

The woman smiled faintly and reached out a hand. Marinette flinched again, but the woman continued on to cup her cheek.

It took everything in her not to lean into the woman’s touch. When was the last time she’d had skin-to-skin contact…?

But there had to be some sort of catch.

“Why?” She whispered, her voice raspy.

“Because it’s been a long few days for you.”

Days? No wonder she felt so awful.

“Aren’t you mad? I was going to betray you…”

“I wasn’t mad, just disappointed,” she said, running her thumb along her cheekbone gently.

God, the little affection felt amazing…

But…

“I’m not going to kill Batman. I’m not of use to you.”

The woman withdrew her hand. Marinette felt like crying. Damn it, why did she have to go and ruin it like that? She could have pretended for longer. No wonder people left her so often. She wasn’t even smart enough to know when to lie...

“But you could be,” she promised.

Her head shot up to look at Harley, but she was already leaving.

The wall opened up and she paused before stepping through to give Marinette an unreadable smile.

“I’ll let you think about it. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The door shut behind her and green gas began to flood the room.

~

Harley was back again. This time, she had given her a granola bar.

She scarfed it down. Her face reddened when she saw Harley looking at her and she wiped a few stray crumbs from her mouth.

The woman chuckled and reached out to get some crumbs she’d missed.

Marinette closed her eyes.

“I know you’re trying to ‘break’ me. I heard you tell Joker you would. It won’t work.”

Harley didn’t say anything, just allowed her to continue on.

“The whole ‘psychological torture’ thing isn’t that different from just torturing me physically. It takes longer and uses more resources. Don’t see why you bother.”

She sighed quietly. “There’s more to it than that, darlin’.”

Marinette frowned.

“Wow, weren’t you supposed to be smart?” She made a quiet ‘tsk’ sound and pulled her hand away. “Maybe you were right, you can’t kill Batman. I don’t know why we expected you to be able to beat the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ when you can’t even figure out what I’m doing…”

She knew it was just to get a rise out of her. She knew it was meant to annoy her. Didn’t mean it didn’t work.

“I’m not stupid!” She hissed.

The woman smirked a little. “Sure you aren’t.”

“I’m not!”

“Really?” Harley laughed. “It’s not like you can prove it stuck in here, and it’s not like you’re going to try and kill Batman. You said it yourself, you wouldn’t do that. So, what, are you going to do taxes?”

She jutted her chin out. “I could. Give me your tax papers. I’ll do them.”

The woman raised her eyebrows slightly and gave an unreadable smile, reaching out and ruffling her hair.

Marinette allowed herself to lean into her touch. Just a little.

She watched the woman leave and broke into a smile.

Not only was she going to be able to prove that she could be useful (she’d done taxes with her parents several times as a kid, she could do Harley’s no problem), she was going to do it without agreeing to kill Batman.

Also, since the fear toxin apparently wasn’t making an appearance this time, she was almost getting bored.

She was going to call the fact that she was about to do Harley’s taxes for her a win.

~

A few hours later, Harley stepped in and dropped the stack of papers in a half-awake Marinette’s lap.

She startled and looked around wildly to figure out what was going on. Then she relaxed when she saw the woman. She was handed a crayon and she raised her eyebrows.

“Only writing utensil you can’t kill anyone with,” explained Harley. She grinned at her. “You sure you can do this?”

“Of course I’m sure!”

Harley laughed and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Marinette’s forehead. “Good for you, darlin’.”

She beamed as she got to work.

~

Harley smiled faintly as she walked in a few days later. She offered some coffee and a few cookies. Marinette gave a whoop and took them from her, relishing in the taste a little. Was it at all nutritious? No. But it was a hell of a lot tastier than water and granola bars.

“How’s it coming along?”

“Done!” Said Marinette brightly, handing over the papers.

The woman raised her eyebrows as she flipped through it. Her eyes scanned them and she chuckled. “Wow, it’s all correct…”

“Oh, it’s no big deal.”

It was a big deal. She’d spent days poring over every number she wrote, overthinking even the most basic math problems. But she wasn’t going to say that. Harley looked so proud of her, surely she’d be more proud if she thought it wasn’t that hard.

And, to Marinette’s delight, the woman leaned down and wrapped her in a hug. “Nice job, darlin’! You’ve done so well!”

~

When the door opened again, Marinette beamed and looked up.

Only for her smile to drop.

Because Joker was with Harley.

She squeaked and attempted to fade into the wall behind her.

Harley made a quiet ‘tsk’ sound with her tongue at Marinette’s obvious horror. “Now, now, darlin’... be nice.”

Marinette hesitated, but she did carefully walk over to Joker and shake his outstretched hand. “Nice to see you,” she strained.

He looked a little bit impressed, though not that much.

Harley, however, openly smiled. She wrapped her arm around Marinette’s shoulders and pulled her into her side. “Thank you.”

She nodded ever so slightly.

~

They waved at his retreating back and Marinette waited until the door was closed behind him to speak: “I’m not going to kill Batman. Not for you, and especially not for him.”

The woman pulled away from her with a frown on her face.

She tried not to whine at the loss of touch. After all, it was her fault. She’d ruined the moment, once again, by admitting that she wasn’t going to be useful in the one way Harley so desperately wanted her to.

“Really?” She sighed and shook her head. “Maybe you and Joker were right. Maybe I’m putting too much work into this… I don’t know. I’ll let Scarecrow have you while I figure it out. Who knows how long that’ll take.”

Marinette squeaked. “You’re coming back in the meantime, right?”

“I don’t know.”

Nononononono she couldn’t be left alone again! Especially not with the fear gas! That was even worse!

But…

She couldn’t kill Batman either.

She couldn’t.

Right?

She watched Harley leave and fell to her knees. She could see the fear toxin slowly streaming in.

~

She found she had made up her mind.

The bats had yet to find her, despite it having been around a month from her approximations. If they’d really wanted her back, wouldn’t they have done so by now? Sure, it was made harder by the fact that they couldn’t track her, but weren’t they supposed to be the ‘World’s Greatest Detectives’ or something? They must not be trying.

And, besides…

When she’d broken the news, she’d been wrapped in a bone-crushing hug.

Marinette choked back a sob, though she didn’t know why. She hugged back, burying her face in Harley’s neck.

It felt so good to be held like this. Like she mattered. Like someone cared about her.

She would do anything to keep it that way.

A part 2 has been made

[foxedthecards]

Whatever reaction Cooper and his buddies had been expecting from Butch...it certainly hadn't been all of that.

Both of the fellows coming up at Cooper's beck and call now found themselves facing off against a cowboy staring levelly at them with probably THE most murderous blue eyes they'd ever seen on another man. He issued his quick threat and then just like that materialized a whip of pure FLAMES out of his hands and lashed viciously at them as if they'd been cowering dogs.

And that fire, oh it was no illusion. The heat of it flashed across their faces, quick and powerful enough to redden the skin. Their nostrils were filled with the stink of their own singed hair and instincts of self-preservation made them step back very hastily indeed. Tackling this cowboy was proving a far greater task than they'd initially thought.

Ultimately though, they weren't that loyal to Cooper. One grabbed the other's shoulder, tugging urgently at his companion. Their faces white with fear, they turned and fled, nearly falling down the stairs over each other in their haste to escape. The look on Cooper's face as his gaze followed their retreat was priceless and would even have been laughable if not for the overall gravity of the situation.

And he had also made the mistake of taking his attention off of Butch. That bit of beautiful lasso work completely paid off, landing just as Butch had intended, cutting short his enraged bellow of abuse towards his retreating accomplices. The rope tightened, Cooper's eyes bulged and he was jerked violently towards Butch. He did manage to get a decent stumble out of him but disappointingly he still managed to hold himself upright.

Meantime Jonas, still held excruciatingly tight in Cooper's grasp and struggling for all the good it did him, pulled himself away instinctively from the heat of those unnatural flames as they crept steadily up the rope towards Cooper's face. He heard Butch make his declaration, blinking in disbelief to hear an almost feral and inhuman snarl superimposing itself over the first part of his words.

The noise reverberated deep in his soul. Although there was a lot going on at the moment, far FAR too many sensations to properly process, several things DID click together in his brain at that moment in rather unexpected ways

That inhuman growl issued from the mouth of the man he'd been kissing not even ten minutes ago. That man's name was Butch. And he was there now right in front of him, within arm's length.

Cooper's grip loosened slightly. And at the same time Butch made his move, Jonas made his almost in perfect sync. Butch had just narrowly turned off the fire in time because fire or not, Jonas had made up his mind to reach out.

To grasp the callused hand of the devil he trusted. To escape the claws of this monster who'd gladly destroy him.

In an instant, he'd been jerked towards Butch, encircled securely in one arm. One hand held Butch's in a white-knuckled grip, his other arm entangled around the cowboy's arm as his fingers twisted into the remnants of his shirt sleeve. God, he'd have crawled into his shirt if he could, so tightly did he press himself against Butch and still it didn't feel close enough.

" Ohfuckohshitohfuckohshit..." he babbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He could hear Cooper's god-awful croaks behind as he thrashed and struggled to rip the tightening lasso with it's steadily creeping flame from around his throat.

Cooper had torn himself free from Jonas and his head had jerked back just in time to get a faceful of the nastiest spit imaginable courtesy of Butch and a knee right in the family jewels, slightly interfered with by a flailing blow but still pretty effective. That fist definitely connected though and sent him backwards into the wall. He spluttered and wiped his face, pushing himself up against the wall and clutching at where Butch had gotten him with the knee.

He lifted his head, his face still purple with rage and then he sees Butch standing there, glaring at him with unexplained flames leaping and dancing in his hands. Any other person, this might have DEFINITELY given them some pause. But with hatred and fury still ruling his brain, even a supernatural sight like that didn't make him back down.

" Fuck you, you FREAK! I BET YOU CAN STILL BLEED! " he roared out, twirling the switchblade in his fingers for a second before he threw it with as much force behind as he could muster straight at Butch.

If he managed to hit Butch or not it wouldn't make any difference. What he wanted ultimately was to divert Butch's attention for the split second he needed.

Jonas, gasping for breath on the floor suddenly found himself jerked roughly up by the collar of his shirt. His head and neck were rapidly enveloped by Cooper's arms and he clawed and kicked in a panic as Cooper squeezed tight.

His eyes, white-rimmed with fear stared in disbelief at Butch. He had a concussion or was hallucinating or something right? He wasn't seeing Butch standing there with goddamn flames wreathing his hands.

" Whatcha...plan on...doing now, fucker? " he hissed. " Don't think you'd wanna chargrill this little pussy's face, do ya? Put 'em out..."

He gave a shrill whistle, and two other men appeared at the bottom of the stairs and quickly made their way up to the landing, coming up behind him. Both of them stopped, uncertainty and fear crossing their faces. They glanced over at Cooper who jerked his chin contemptuously in Butch's direction.

" He won't try shit, " he sneered, moving closer to the stairs and watching Butch with a triumphant glitter in his eye. " Not if I'm holding this little pantywaist. Once he dampens his fire trick, grind his face into the floor. "

[scandalsavagefanfic]

DC Kink Meme Prompts List

Since the kink meme is getting a lot of attention and growing daily, I thought I’d post a convenient place where I can keep track of the prompts that I’d like to see filled again. I figure you’re all here because we share similar interests and this way, if you’re a writer with looking for a prompt, you don’t have to scroll through the almost 400 prompts that are currently posted. 

So here we go. Beware, this is a kink meme. These are nsfw and some may be triggering. 

JayDick Watersports -  Filled HERE

sub!Jason & Dom!Dick are in a consensual D/s relationship that has a heavy Master/slave dynamic (whether 24/7 or primarily during sex is up to you!). They're on a stakeout one night, and it's really cold, and, aw, fuck, Dick needs to piss, but he doesn't want his dick to freeze. Good thing he's got his bitch there with him, right? Dick pissing in Jay's ass preferred just to show the level of not caring about Jay's comfort [it's still cold!], but totally not gonna complain about piss drinking, either, if Dick's feeling a little more charitable. Is Jay surprised because it's the first time Dick has done this? Is this a normal, expected duty that he performs regularly? That's up to you!

Tim/Jason A/B/O - Filled

In an A/B/O world where omegas are in charge and alphas are treated like animals, or kept as pets, CEO Tim decides to treat himself to a new toy and buys Jason. Feel free to go as wild as you like with the kinks, I'm pretty unsquickable

Tim/Jason Stalker!Tim - Filled on the Meme by anon and HERE (by me)

Older Tim, younger Jason, where Tim's stalking gets a little obsessive once Jason takes over as Robin, and he starts stalking Jason out of costume as well as at night. A little judicious hacking later and he's able to keep an eye on Jason's internet activity too. Once he finds Jason looking at gay porn he knows he's got an in. And he starts blackmailing Jason, online at first, but escalating every time he gets Jason to go a little further, until he gets him to submit in person.

Slade/Dick/Jason - Filled amazingly HERE

Dick's been with Slade for a while, and now that he's stopped fighting and given into his training, Slade thinks he deserves a reward. Every good boy deserves a puppy, and Batman's new Robin looks like he could fit the role perfectly.

Jason Todd - Object Insertion - Filled on the meme (art)

Honestly, that's all I've got for you. I just want someone making Jason take things up his ass that have no business being there. Consensual or not are both fine! Any ship, though definitely a strong preference for Roy, Slade, Tim, Kyle, Dick, Roman or Ra's. Preferably not underage, but I'm not entirely opposed.

Ra's/Jason - Filled HERE

Ra's test drives an undunked Jason. The boy must be useful for something, after all, and he looks so pretty in chains. ABO welcome. 

Prompt- Pegging (Jason) - Filled HERE

Jason gets pegged by one (or more ;)) of the lovely ladies of the DC universe. And enjoys it thoroughly Pairing is dealer's choice. <3

Bruce/Jason 

Bruce takes in Jason off the streets, but more for use as a personal whore than to be Robin. Bonuses for Bruce still adopting Jason and getting off on fucking his son. EXTRA bonus points for Alfred's unfazed acceptance/support of it and perhaps even his participation.

Jason Todd Intercrural Sex - Filled on meme

This man deserves more thigh fucking and so do we! All ships welcome!

No Title - Bruce/Jason, Dick finds out Bruce has been sexually abusing Jason

One of the other prompts made me realize that while there are a lot of fics where Jason discovers Bruce has been abusing Dick, there are none the other way around and suddenly I have a craving. So I would like for Dick to find out (maybe right after Jason returns, Dick catches them and overhears Bruce say something to indicate it used to happen regularly) that Bruce had been sexually abusing Jason since the moment he found him and try to save him. And like, because of his background as a child prostitute, Jason kind of thinks it's normal or that it's the only way he could earn love? Maybe Bruce implies that Jason is useless otherwise and he'd end up back on the streets if he's not useful. Maybe Bruce is even happy to point out that the reason he never even considered touching the others is because they were too good for it, pure and wholesome, while Jason was ruined goods.

Dick/Jason fuck-or-die bottom!Jay 

I would absolutely kill to see a fic where Dick is forced to fuck Jason (for whatever reason but preferably not due to sex pollen/aphrodisiacs/drugs - I would prefer if they were both in their right minds please) Preferably they wouldn't be in a relationship or have secret feelings for each other and this would be mutual noncon/rape with a focus on how horrified they are that they're having to do this to each other. I would really, really like if it was bottom!Jason for this, but that there is acknowledgement that Dick is being raped here too!

Skeezy Ric Grayson

One specific fic I read has completely coloured my perception of Ric, and now I'm just desperate to see him being a total creep. Perving on his siblings and former friends. Would love to see him not take no for an answer, especially with someone who doesn't want to fight back because "it's still Dick in there somewhere, I can't hurt him" or something like that. Preference for Wally (HiC who?) or Jason, but Tim, Roy, Babs or Donna would be okay, too! A/B/O with Alpha!Ric would be a bonus but isn't necessary.

Cassie/Rose bondage spanking and D/s, semi-dubious consent

Cassie has had enough of Rose mouthing off and causing trouble, so she ties her up with her lasso and lectures her. Rose mockingly asks her if she’s going to spank her for being a bad girl, and much to her surprise, Cassie does. They both enjoy it much more than expected

Nyssa/Talia

Nyssa/Talia, set post-Death and the Maidens, Talia restrained while Nyssa gets her off, begging to be allowed to reciprocate. Bonus points for twisty fucked up Nyssa POV with all kinds of big global megalomaniacal justifications for what she's doing and how important it is to the greater good. (Reposted from old DC kinkmeme)

Jason Todd/Dick Grayson/Roy Harper/Koriand’r

Kori loves watching her subs play with each other and rewards them well for good behavior

JayTim hatesex

Jason and Tim having incestuous-sibling-rivalry-hate-sex against the memorial

Any Bats/???, Alfred has to clean up

Poor Alfred often gets stuck cleaning up the mess when any of the family bring partners over. The crackier the circumstances the better!

Slade/Jason identity porn

Slade and Jason fuck while in costume as and pretending to be Batman and Nightwing respectively

Kyle Rayner/any

Kyle winds up working as a stripper somehow. Some other heroes find out and pay him a visit

Batfam/Jason; non con or resigned-to-his-fate cumdumpster!Jason

Could also be Earth-3 Owlfam/Jason. A/B/O welcome but it doesn't have to be. Would appreciate any one or combination of the following: dehumanization/objectification, humiliation, public sex, breeding kink, restraints, fucking machines, cum enemas, lots of cum in general, size kink... I just want something unapologetically filthy. I'm pretty much good with everything but scat.

Dick/Tim non/dub-con, universe hopping

Dark Dick from a dark universe ends up in the main universe, where he is delighted to find a brand new Timmy to play with, who unconditionally trusts his brother and doesn't know he's been replaced. Cue Dick slowly luring him in so he can have his fun. Tim doesn't realize until it's too late, or doesn't realize at all and has no idea how his beloved older brother could do this to him. Main universe has fully platonic, familial relationships within in the batfam. Feel free to imply/state anything you like about the dark universe. Grooming/slowly warming Tim up to more and more touches, crying, overstimulation, bondage, or any combination thereof are all bonuses

Young Justice S3 Dick/Jason omegaverse

Alpha!Dick Grayson is stuck on a mission and somehow has to help the mysterious Red-Hooded omega through his heat. But they have to stay quiet in order to not wake the pup Damian sleeping right next to them. Preferably there's an identity reveal in there where Dick finds out the omega is Jason Todd under the mask.

Addict!Roy Harper Noncon

Noncon (or possibly dubcon, if the manipulation is clear enough to readers) with Snowbirds Don't Fly era!Roy Harper as the victim. Could be an OC, another Titan, a Leaguer, a canon villain... Dealer's choice! Looking for something that really focuses on how he's being taken advantage of, rather than just "can't technically consent because he's high, but is totally into it."

Woder Woman/Batman, Rough Sex

Bruce loves it when Diana is rough with him

Bane/Bruce, violent noncon

Something set during Knightfall, where Bane decides to take “breaking the Bat” even further by raping Bruce and possibly also his precious little Robin

Jay/Tim bdsm AU, sub Jay

What it says on the tin. Was thinking maybe also an arranged marriage of sub Jason to dom Tim Drake, to cement a business union but also because subs aren’t full citizens.

Robin!Jason/Bruce Somnophilia

Bruce drugs his new little Robin and slips into his room. He takes his time with him, enjoying Jason before carefully opening and fucking him. Would be great if Jason wakes up towards the end but can't do anything but take it- maybe because of the drugs, maybe because of the way Bruce is holding him down, or even because he likes it.

Sidekicks/Villains noncon glory wall

Any sidekicks you want—Speedy, the Robins and Batgirls, Kid Flash and Impulse, the Wonder girls, etc.—being displayed in a glory wall, leaving their holes open for fucking. Interested villains can pay to fuck any hole they desire, and they enjoy wrecking the sidekicks and filling them with come

Robin!Jason/Villains & Henchmen?

Robin Jason gets captured and tied up by the villain of the week, who decides to take advantage of the situation. Robin is blindfolded and groped/fucked by the villain and maybe some henchmen while waiting for Batman to rescue him. Batman finding a bound and blind Jay too tempting to resist is a bonus.

Dickjay daddy kink

Older! Dick and bottom! Jason. Jason came back years later and Dick is around 40.

OmegaJason/Batfam first heat, lactation

It's Jason's first heat and the alphas of the pack know that his milk is on its way soon. All it needs is a little encouragement. A few knots and some nipple play should do it. His milk tastes perfect as it starts to flow.

Jason/Dick, Jason/RomanSionis, Hooker!Jason & Officer Grayson

So this is based off a discussion from AGES ago in the jayroman discord server that I still think about to this day XD A no capes au in which Jason never gets picked up by Bruce and ends up a crime alley prostitute who somehow along the way caught the eye of Black Mask and winds up working for him. And Black Mask has basically the whole city in his pocket, including the police force, which is why it’s so annoying when this little upstart, Officer Dick Grayson, starts to try to challenge his hold on the city, the little goody two-shoes denying any and all bribes and refusing to back down in the face of threats. And it should be easy to squash one annoying little bug, but somehow all attempts have failed and he can’t openly go after him without risking his reputation as a clean, law-abiding businessman, a reputation that’s slowly starting to unravel thanks to the dogged efforts of Officer Grayson, because the little shit is annoyingly not as stupid as his attempts to go after Roman would make him seem and despite all of Roman’s power and having basically the entire police force and the various other government officials Roman has in his pocket against him, he has made far too much headway in his endeavors So Roman gives Jason the job of seducing Dick, because if bribery and threats don’t work, video evidence of an officer fucking an underage hooker makes excellent blackmail material, and should be enough to take him down for good if he ever steps a toe out of line again Except no matter how Jason tries to seduce him, Dick is just too decent a guy to take advantage (Ex: Jason: *shows up wearing even more revealing clothes than the night before.* Dick: “You must be cold, here, take my jacket.” etc.) And before he knows it, Jason finds himself growing weirdly fond of the infuriating idiot with his stupid puns and painful sincerity

Roman Sionis/Jason Todd, AOB noncon impregnation gang rape

Intersex AOB verse. Roman wants to punish and claim the upstart omega, so he plugs Jason’s cunt and lets his men anally rape Jason until the omega begs Roman to breed his pussy

TimKon, a/b/o, alpha!Tim, bottom Conner

Humans have a/b/o. Kryptonians do not. Alpha!Tim thinks that he shouldn't bother Kon about Tim's rut. Kon thinks otherwise. Whether Kon can keep up with Tim (superpowers got to be good for something, right?) or is overwhelmed is up to anon :) I am absolutely unsquickable so whatever extra kinks are fine with me. Just please top!Tim only. Please, my crops are dying.

past romanjay now mobJay, gangbang

After getting tired with his new toy, Roman decided to just give his subordinates a chance to have fun with it. But mostly he just want to see the red hood to get more humiliated after destroying his empire.

Damian Wayne/Jason Todd, bestiality

It's time for Damian to introduce his new acquired pet to the pack, Titus and Ace.

Tim gags and spanks Damian

Red Robin has to take Robin out on patrol because Batman is away, Damian is reckless and keeps disobeying orders so Tim punishes him while having him gagged for being mouthy. can progress to something more sexual but doesn't have to be. Damian secretly enjoying it is a bonus.

Deathstroke/All the Robins

Slade really has a thing for fighting and chasing after Batbrats…

Rose/Jason mommy kink edging and pegging

Jason wants to be a good boy for mommy, Rose rewards his good behavior

Jason Todd/Kyle Rayner hatesex - Filled

I’d love some rough, angry, violent hatesex between these two. Bonus points for snarky asshole bottom!jason and kyle using his ring to make restraints/other kinky constructs ;)

Flashpoint!Father Todd/Incubus!Dick

Incubus!Dick seduces Father Todd. Jason holds out longer than most but Dick prides himself on being irresistible. He’s never failed before and he doesn’t plan to start now. But maybe, instead of his usual dine-and-ditch MO, Dick think’s he might like to savor this meal for long. Jason falls so beautifully. (bottom Jason please) Catholic aesthetics, blasphemy as kink, church sex (altar, confessional, pews, etc)

Flashpoint Thomas Wayne/Father Todd

Thomas Wayne as Batman bends Father Todd over the altar. In uniform. (At least for Thomas. It would be super hot if he strips Father Todd out of his robes first. Maybe everything except his rosary?)

Jason/Tim rape

Tim ties down Jason and rides(rapes) him. Pls let Tim use Jason as nothing but a mere meat dildo.

Titans/Dick, Titans/Jason, Titans/Tim consensual gangbang - Filled

The not-so-secret tradition of team bonding by fucking the current Bat on the Teen Titans is well-adhered to, especially given the enthusiastic consent of all participants Feel free to include any or all: garden sex, pool sex, power use, DP, riding, pegging, toy use, CBT, nipple play, cockwarming, CFNM/CMNM, and consensual somno All other kinks welcome excluding scat, watersports, emeto, ageplay, vore, and anything else bloody

Thomas Elliot/Bruce Wayne (Rape/Non-con)

Bruce doesn't realise how obsessed Thomas really is with him. Leads to Hush raping Bruce. Can be when Bruce knows who Hush is or when he still doesn't know.

Evil!Dick and Jason, noncon or dubcon

Jason comes back to his safehouse and is surprised to find Dick already there. After the initial surprise, Jason is quick to find out that there's something... off, about this Dick. He's not acting like his usual self. It turns out this isn't the usual Dick that Jason is familiar with, instead, he is a darker version of him (drugged? Talon from Earth-3 that somehow ends up in the main universe? other possibilities? all welcome options!), and this Dark!Dick is obsessed with Jason and wants to fuck him... and he doesn't take no for an answer. So there's a setup for a non-con or dub-con(in case Jason also has a crush on main Dick) for you. Restraints (gags, ropes, tapes etc.) are also welcome but doesn't have to be present.

Kon-El/Lex Luthor Daddy Kink DubCon

Lex genetically programmed Kon to need his daddy to fill him up when he created him. Lex made Kon to check all his boxes (ie Superman, something he made, a gifted teenager). Kon can’t actually consent because of programming, and he doesn’t want it until he’s getting it. Can be simple daddy kink or full of abdl. Bonus points for trans!Kon

Guy Gardner/Bunch of Aliens possible Dubcon/Noncon

Macho, hotheaded, shit-talking Guy is the embodiment of hyper-masculinity, and that arrogance of his gets him into a lot more than just a bar fight. All of Guy's enemies seem to be of the huge, muscular variety, so let's see the most stocky lantern get put in his place. Does he secretly love it? Does he outright hate it? Maybe all that shit-talking was just a ploy to finally get someone to "punish" him right. The choice is up to you. Maybe it's a bunch of random aliens Guy's ticked off in a bar. Maybe all that showboating's pissed off Kilowog or Arkillo. Maybe Lobo's still put out after being tricked one too many times by Guy. Perhaps, Atrocitus's still kinda harboring a grudge for Guy kicking him out of the Red Lanterns. Then there's always the way too touchy Dementor with his Vuldarian kin. I'm all for any other kinks or situations, I just would prefer no bathroom stuff. Go absolutely wild.

Black Mask/anyone, bathroom control, omorashi - Filled on meme

I'm a simple person with simple needs: Roman controlling whether or not someone's allowed to piss. can be consensual or noncon torture, the victim can end up pissing themselves or make it to the bathroom safely. just as long as Roman's in total control of the situation, and smug about it. bonus points: tears, begging, banter, degradation, embarrassment, additional torture, anything else along those lines. watersports only, please, no scat!

Roy Clones/Dick gangbang omegaverse

YJ season 3 episode 4 has excellent gangbang material just so you know Add omegaverse to it and its perfect Noncon/dubcon is accepted also

Titans/Jason Gangbang

Prefer comics based more than the show but either is fine. Dick and his friends welcome the new Robin the Titans way, by breaking in that hole. New kid is always the team toy, and it's even more fun now that it's Nightwing's bratty kid brother. Consensual or non con, dealer's choice. Double (or triple) penetration, dirty talk, and powers used for sex are favorite kinks but I'm good with pretty much anything.

Willis Todd/Jason Todd, Mob/Jason; Incest and forced underage prostitution

Willis pimps out his kid for cash and drugs. Catherine either pretends she doesn't know or knows and helps/doesn't care. And like any good salesman, he makes sure to test out his product to make sure it's up to snuff. 

Make it cruel and awful and hopeless. Dehumanizing and degrading. Jason is just a hole to sell and use. belting in sensitive areas, beatings, violent sex, cum play, blood play... I just want something dark and nasty. 

____________________________________________________

Woo! Ok. I’ll try to keep this up the best I can. I’ll link/mark when prompts are filled so that you guys can check it out if you want (all filled prompts can be reached by the link in the title, but some have ao3 links that I put on the “Filled” note). 

I’ll also reblog this with any new prompts that come up or if I find I’ve forgotten one. 

[crypterion-moon]

Tiamat: Rise in Shadow p.2

Summary: He’s ended up in a new world, one that is surprisingly similar to his but everyone is so much younger. Tiamat, unable to resist his curiosity begins to observe, acting impulsively.

The Light realizes that they have problems concerning their operations

Tags: Violence, Gore

Tiamat's head was ringing, and it was damn annoying as well as slightly painful. It took a whole lot of effort and will to just open his eyes with his whole body screaming at him for the abuse. Not the first time, he told himself, had worse happen to him on Batman's watch. And then he realized there was a possibility he wasn't alone. His eyes shot open and he lifted his head enough to give the surrounding area a quick scan around before dropping back to the ground, face first of course. He felt as if he got kicked in the head by a horse, which was a close enough comparison given how hard he was hit. 

Fortunately it seemed like the Blight Hounds didn't seem to make it through or were dropped off elsewhere, hopefully somewhere far away, like a different dimension. He was about to seduce and kill a young man who would later become a gang leader as he'd been told by Oriviane, one of the oracles. Though it had nothing to do with Tiamat or the wraiths what his destiny would have been, his name was listed. He would die sooner or later.

It would have just been another night of ending someone's life with pleasure until they were suddenly ambushed by those damned monsters. Ambushes weren't all that unusual though it served to be a pain in the ass having to kill his targets before they ran off. Tiamat was always prepared for these moments and it wouldn't have been a problem if his psyche as well as his powers didn't decide to fluctuate right at that moment. It earned him a swat to the face from one of their malformed paws, and they were strong, if not smart.

“Damn, I hope they didn't scratch me,” Tiamat grunted, as his fingers came away wet with blood. 

He glanced at his surroundings, a thick but not unruly gathering of trees blocked much of Tiamat's field of vision like a forest, preventing him from seeing too much farther, but he could hear a the low drone of activity, human activity just beyond the edge of the spot where he stood. Tiamat followed the sounds, noting how oddly neat these trees were spaced almost as if...he reached the end to find wide open spaces filled with people either picnicking, strolling or playing, and beyond that was a city. Its buildings jutting up unpleasantly over the foliage. His portal navigation had landed him in the middle of a park in god knows where, again. In fairness, it was a stressful moment, trying to open up a door while fending of mutant mutts and no doubt, they must've been scattered over other realms. He really needed to get the hang of this before it sent him into somewhere much more unpleasant.

Strangely, as he kept passing through the thick growth of trees he could hear the sounds of civilization cars and voices, not too far away and as it turned out, he’d reached the edge of what turned out to be a reserved patch of forest. Now he was staring from under the shade, normal civilians passing by going about their business. At least he was sure he wasn’t on some god-forsaken hell. He was about to move forward when a sudden explosion erupted about fifty meters away. He flinched back into the cover and watched intently.

Through the throngs of screaming people, a figure emerged from the wreckage, large and imposing and an awfully familiar at that. It was Bane. Still duped up on Venom.

“Come out you spineless cowards, come out and face Bane!”

Good lord he was obnoxious as ever. Watching him thrash about like a child throwing a tantrum was almost comical. He took out a substantial chunk of the cement ground throwing it about, thankfully most of the crowds had retreated but he was posing a serious threat to bystanders. For now, it seemed that the only damage he was intent on doing was to the surrounding inanimate objects, smashing to be exact, unimpressive really. Then the drugged up criminal fixes his gaze on some unfortunate man on his way to work. Tiamat grinned. Perfect, he had some stress to work off.

Just when he had taken a step out, suddenly Bane was ambushed. Teenagers sporting colourful sets of powers and abilites. One of them, a green skinned boy morphed into a bull charging Bane relentlessly and recklessly. A young blond woman with a bow joined in, notching and releasing arrows effortlessly with near perfect aim. The flashy one dashed in to deliver a series of, flimsy punches. When it comes to Bane, nothing short of a strong punch will affect him, but somehow, Tiamat could feel that was merely to add to the distraction.

Something bigger was coming his way. 

Just as the thought materialized, a large black and blue jean mass came flying in, crashing into Bane with a loud thump and crack that definitely was the sound of a few broken bones. The villain was sent flying back from the impact while the recent addition to the fray watched with a triumphant expression, back straight, floating in the air with the symbol on his chest on display. A Super.

The sight of the S brought memories, slamming back into Tiamat .

“Hey Broody.”

Kon smiling as he hovered over him making terrible jokes about his height, his personality being not as colourful as his costume. Fighting together with their teammates against extraterrestrial terrorists. 

“You know he doesn’t mean that.”

Kon comforting him over his arguments and fights with Bruce and Jason. Hearing Kon’s voice beg him to come home again and again until he couldn’t hear him anymore. And when he finally opened his eyes, he was holding Kon’s head in his bloody hands.

Tim doubled over gagging, holding himself steady grasping a thorny vine that grew along the trunk of the tree, his hand so tight around it the thorns pierced skin and blood ran down his palm and the vine.

“Damn it, not now, keep it together...” he fought to keep the memories suppressed. Just then a giant crash spooked him out of the lapse and he looked up in time to see a huge Gorilla in a stupid hat flattening down everything In its way, with a machine gun to match. Following behind were what looked like a few hired goons, of course, why not. Bane always made sure to be stocked up on henchmen and backup.

This was however turning into a bit of a joke and Tiamat was getting bored of watching.

“Robin!” A slight figure leaped out of nowhere at the command, unleashing a whole arsenal of batarangs and smoke pellets. The flying pieces of metal successfully took down a portion of the goons while the pellets burst, enveloping the area in thick smoke. No one can see through it accept for Superboy but they had definitely planned this enough not to require visibility. Tiamat ’s suspicions were confirmed when the green shapeshifter charged right into the smoke, audibly knocking out more of the hired guns, both Robin and the archer jointly disabled the remaining men caught in the smoke. Bane could be heard roaring over the commotion, Gorilla sniffed and grunted. Suddenly, Superboy and a girl with a familiar symbol dived in, tackling the two. The team’s hard hitters best suited for tanks like Bane and the Gorilla. Tiamat guessed they must be this world’s Teen Titans, which meant he had to be careful who he came in contact with.

After a whole load of punching and kicking, the two villains were finally down, disappointingly enough, how boring. They began discussing something together possibly about whatever mission they were on while the blond with the lasso and the speedster began tying everyone up. Just then the  farthest man lying just a meter of where Tiamat was hiding got up and started sprinting off into the woods.

Tim watched the man as he made his escape into the darkness, soon noticed to be by the teens, his lips stretched into a sinister grin. He sat back on his haunches, preparing for the chase.

“Let the hunt begin.”

“We have a runner,” Nightwing sounded slightly fed up, his tone coloured with annoyance as he watched the last of Bane’s hired gun run of to the woods. No one could blame him, since it’s been a long day and no doubt, going to be a long night for him in Bludhaven, the wicked never sleep. So the team started off after him as the heavy hands came to take the criminals away for locking up. Kid Flash was definitely the fastest but not the brightest, and in an environment like a forest, odds were that he’d trip up or spend the whole day searching high and low for the man, so it was a good thing he wasn’t here or he’d run off not knowing where he was going or running into. Beast Boy had the right idea though, as a hound, he had the escaper’s scent. So they followed him into the thick growth. 

Finding him was actually harder than they thought, he had no tracker so all they could really rely upon was Superboy’s senses and Beast Boy’s ability to track as an animal, even then Connor couldn’t see past all the trees with his vision and Garfield lost his scent a few times.

“He must be in the deepest part of the forest by now,” Artemis said.

“Keep searching, if he’s going back to base this could mean finding the ones responsible for the meta-trafficking,” Nightwing ordered.

“He could be headed towards the docks, it’s the quickest and closest way out,” Robin said, it made sense and Nightwing agreed, it was the only other place that anyone could find a way to get off the island. As they got nearer to the docks, Superboy stopped all of a sudden, his teammates stopped as well.

“Superboy, what’s wrong, is-” Wondergirl began to say when he shushed her, his ears picking up whimpers and sobs and some frantic words that were to muffled for him to hear properly. But he could tell which direction.

“Over there,” he said, facing in the direction of the sound just off to the side to where the docks were, .

They followed Conner to what looked like the deepest part of the forest when he faltered and bent over looking shaken.

“What’s wrong,” Nightwing asked, checking him over with concern.

“Someone screamed and it wasn’t any scream, I mean a real scream,” Connor looked up and around, panicked, “I can’t hear him anymore.” 

With this disturbing reveal, Nightwing and Robin both took off in that direction, with the others following after Superboy had recovered. Beast Boy was in the lead again, with the scent strong this time and they ventured on before Garfield started yelping, then, the smell hit them hard, the smell of blood and urine.

“Oh my god,” Artemis let out a hoarse whisper.

Everyone stopped, their mouths hanging open in shock. The corpse lying before them was definitely their runner, but he wasn’t going to be answering questions or going anywhere but the morgue. His limbs stuck out at odd angles like he was flailing about so much they were arranged haphazardly, his uniform was ripped open and so was his throat. The chest area bore several gashes. Right arm ripped off and legs punctured. He looked like he’d been mauled by a savage animal except, no animal can make such clean cuts as the ones on his chest, the claws must have been thin, needle like. His mouth hung agape with terror and he must have been scared enough to wet himself with the darkened patch on his pants mixing with the blood that was now seeping in, staining the grey a darker shade.

“Wha- who could have done this?!” Cassie gasped. Nightwing took a tentative step forward, he’d seen bad things in Gotham but never something like this here. Something had made it’s way on the island.

He looked back to see Robin had also followed his movement but he seemed to be on the verge of getting sick, he was too young to witness something like this. Nightwing didn’t want to baby him. Working as Robin alongside Batman meant being in the middle of things like this but still...he glanced back at the body. This was too horrible.

“You guys, go back to HQ, call Batman, tell him we’ve got an issue, possibly something worse than the crisis at hand,” he ordered the rest of the team, “Robin, look at me, I know it’s going to be hard but go back with them, take the rest of the day off.”

“But I-.”

“Listen to me, Tim, I’m not putting you off missions because I think you’re not up for it, but I’ve had something like this happen before and it isn’t something you can just shake off, take it from a guy who tried winging it,” Dick gave him a wry smile, “Go home you earned it.”

Both Nightwing and Robin looked at the tattered remains, “I don’t think it’s exactly safe there right now.” 

Batman was waiting for them when Nightwing and a few others were finished assessing the situation and had returned to their new cave headquarters. The mountain they had once called base was demolished and smoothed over but in the process of retrieving precious components the had managed to unearth tunnels and caverns formed long ago when lava still flowed here.

It was almost like the old one, well, technically it was, or rather an extension of the old cave.

Batman was tapping away at the computer when they finally arrived.

“I’ve heard a lot about what happened, report.”

Aqualad, Blue Beetle looked rather ill, Nightwing wasn’t happy to have dug his hands deep into the case. 

“Nothing good,” Dick said as he produced a image storage card from one of his compartments, and slotted it into the computer then turned to the rest of the teens gathered around watching curiously, “If any of you guys just ate and don’t have the stomach for this, you might want to look away, especially you Static.”

“I think I’m cool, I’ve been working on this team for a while.”

None of them seemed to be able to look away and Nightwing raised a brow questioningly but relented, “Suit yourself.”

The series of images that popped up on the screen were...hard to digest. The first image of the dead gunman in the woods was obvious, to some but there were more, far more to come. And they got bloodier and bloodier, multiple bodies piled upon each other or strewn around warehouses, corridors, missing limbs, missing eyes, throats torn, one had his skull crushed and a few sliced cleanly in half. All merciless, and brutally killed. All in the same uniform. 

Some retching could be heard in the background, a few of the teens’ eyes had gone wide and forced to look away. Even Superboy, claiming to be fearless didn’t find it easy to be seeing this. Bart grimaced.

“We can assume that this was the base where our runner was going to and whoever, whatever got to him got here first, from what I can tell there were no survivors.”

“Oh god,” M’gann’s voice was merely a whisper.

“Have you determined who they were working for?”

“Only that the hired muscle belonged to Luthor and the whole operation was headed by Bane. The base located just a few miles off the coast was built overnight, it’s supposed to be temporary. That’s how they got so many guys to infiltrate the island. Today was supposed to be the first wave, scout and weaken we know the Light is pulling strings again and they were planning to completely take out the Young Justice.” 

“The full attack was scheduled two days from now, a whole army coming at us...there were a lot of people stationed at that base.” 

Nightwing looked visibly shaken, but he collected himself enough to give the rest of the report, “That’s all the information I was able to recover from their smaller caches, along with the shots we took of the scene but the rest of the data that was in their main computer, is gone, no messages, no videos, all taken or destroyed,” Nightwing looked grim. 

Batman narrowed his eyes and turned back to the screen, scrolling through the images stored on the memory card. The info explained only a portion of the operation but nothing on what transpired there, no indications of unusual activity, which meant that whatever happened, happened suddenly and quickly. His mind racing through a million possibilities, scenarios, potential suspects who wanted in on this operation or just to sabotage it. Joker was on the list, even if he worked with the Light before, he and they both knew he was a wild card of sorts and could turn easily on any one. But this…

Beside him, Robin had taken a step forward analysing each photograph, the investigator inside of him pushing past his queasiness to work out all the clues and Bruce didn’t miss a single moment of that.

“Whoever did this knew what they were doing, but it wasn’t exactly planned, no, I think it all started with the runner,” Batman said.

“How can you be sure?” Aqualad questioned.

“No prior reports of related activity and in such a short time period starting, with your fight with him he’s done a lot of damage,” Batman continued before Jaime cut in.

“Wait, he?”

“Just one person?” Artemis added.

Batman gave Robin a look, body language he was trained to understand, by now, he’d analysed all that he could in those shots and was already organising them into vital information in his head, he started, “There’s blood on the floor that doesn’t match the shape of any of the men in the photos, it’s distinctly male given the size of the footprint, and it can’t be female as the toes are not narrow enough. The back of the print is narrower so the heel must be high, that alone separates it from the any one of the Lex’s men.” 

“Plus there are some distinct marks in front of each print, they look like dots but on closer inspection,” Robin zooms in on one particular print showing a print with several patterned holes in the front, “Our...killer has clawed feet.” 

“Whoa,” Bart said.

“What the hell could that be?” Static threw up his hands frustrated in the riddle talk, “Our mystery guy has clawed feet and is wearing high heels? Apart from fashion statement, is he human? Meta like us?”

Batman and Nightwing exchanged looks, everybody just looked worried.

“You’re thinking something else aren’t you.”

“Without further investigation we don’t have much to go on, but our gut instinct says the same, someone, something has made it here.”

“And whoever or whatever that is, is extremely dangerous,” Nightwing warned.

“Are you even sure it’s just the one guy?” Kon asked.

There was a pause, Batman turned to the screen, scanning the pictures of mutilated and half eaten bodies littered across it, before he answered, “With this kind of carnage, let’s hope we’re just dealing with one threat and not an army.” 

Meanwhile at Lex Corporations, news about the massacre had reached Luthor, and he was not amused. He sat at his desk scrolling through the reports and the images attached, articles that were published days before. He cared little about the men he hired to do his work but was no savage and seeing the aftermath of the attack, he could only conclude it was performed by one. He could put the blame on a few named psychopaths but wild guesses may not help his case. The announcement given by the Batman claimed that it was both a calculated move and a spur of the moment impulse. The  So now, he had a rabid but logical killer on his hands, probably headed for him. With nothing to help identify them it could turn out to be any one person or maybe more, he’s had attempts on his life but it helps to know the suspects, Arsenal a most recent example but a missile is easy to see, easy to counter. From what Lex could tell, this one will give no warning, far too unpredictable.

“Mercy, make the call, our protective measures won’t be enough I’m afraid,” Luthor said. His bodyguard immediately took out the phone to begin dialling, “I have a call to make myself.”

“So, you’re saying that you’re being hunted, why am I not surprised?” Klarion smirked.

Luthor cocked an eyebrow in response to the jarring comment but continued, “If I may continue, it is but a theory, the only thing that causes doubt is the suddenness of the incident. I’d rather be safe than sorry that’s all.”

“A few dead men and you’re concerned?” the Queen mocked lightly, “How very unlike you.”

“Simply cautious my dear, unlike some,” Luthor shot back, making the woman wrinkle her nose slightly but comment no further.

“Now, now, no need for us to argue over such matters, I understand how important it is to be vigilant, Luthor. You have our support. Let’s hope this setback doesn’t last too long,” Vandal said.

“Thank you, I’ll lay low for a bit, in the meantime we should end the threat while it’s still early.”

Klarion hummed in playful doubt, “I dunno, maybe whoever this is could be fun to play with. They’ve caused quite a stir everywhere.”

“Oui, perhaps this newcomer will make a good ally,” the Brain said in his heavily accented English. Lex looked doubtful, as the Queen but both Savage and Klarion seemed open to the idea, Klarion more so with a glee in his eyes. As long as chaos was involved anything would be enough to keep the boy happy. Though the other members were uncertain, a little bit of investment could go a long way. With both Black Manta and Ra’s unavailable to comment, the majority voted on watching the newcomer first, see if there was anything he could offer and act when the moment was right. 

“Let us observe for the moment, we shall soon see if he can serve the Light.”

[fullregalia]

20/20.

This year, in hindsight, was a real write-off. I had grand plans for it, and while I ushered it in in a very low-key manner since I was recovering from the flu, I’d expected things to look up. Well, you know what they say about plans (RIP, my trip to Europe). I got very, very sick in early February, and I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t COVID. Since March, the days have been a carousel of monotony: coffee, run, work, cook, yoga, existential spiral, sleep. My Own Private Year of Rest and Relaxation, if you will. Of course, life has a way of breaking through regardless; I attended protests, completed my thesis, graduated from grad school, took a couple of road trips upstate, and celebrated the accomplishments and birthdays of friends and family from a safe social distance. It was all a bit of a blur, and not ideal circumstances to re-enter the real world, or whatever this COVID-present is. 

Throughout it all, in lieu of happy hours, coffee dates, and panel discussions, I’ve turned even more to culture and cuisine to fill the the negative space on my calendar where my social life once resided. However, since a global pandemic ought not to disrupt every tradition, here’s my year-end round up of what made this terrible one slightly more tolerable. 

TV

After an ascetic fall semester abstaining from TV in 2019 (save for my beloved Succession), I allowed myself to watch more as the year wore on, and especially after graduation. I caught up on some cultural blind spots by finally getting around to The Sopranos, Ramy, Search Party, and Girlfriends. I wasn’t alone in bingeing Sopranos, it absolutely lived up to the hype and then some; this Jersey Girl can’t get enough gabagool-adjacent content, pizzeria culture is my culture!

Speaking of my culture, there was also a disproportionate amount of UK and European shows in my queue. Nothing like being in social isolation and watching the horny Irish teens in Normal People brood. I’m partial to it because I share a surname with the showrunner, so I have to embrace blind loyalty even though there was, in my opinion, a Marianne problem in the casting. Speaking of charming Irish characters with limited emotional vocabularies, I belatedly discovered This Way Up a 2019 show from Aisling Bea and Sharon Horgan. And while Connell and Marianne are actually exceptional students, I found the real normal people on GBBO to bring me a bit more joy. Baking was abundantly therapeutic for me this year, and watching charming people drink loads of tea and fret over soggy bottoms was a comfort. I also discovered the Great Pottery Throw Down, and as a lifelong ceramics enthusiast, I cannot recommend it highly enough if you care about things like slips, coils, and glazing techniques. GPTD embraces wabi sabi in a way that GBBO eschews flaws in favor of perfection, and in a time of uncertainty, the former reminded me why I miss getting my hands in the mud as a coping mechanism (hence all the baking). Speaking of coping mechanisms, like everybody else with two eyes and an HBO password, I loved Michaela Cole’s I May Destroy You; though we’ve all had enough distress this year for a lifetime, watching Cole’s Arabella process her assault and search for meaning, justice, and closure was a compelling portrait of grief and purpose in the aftermath of trauma. Arabella’s creative and patient friends Kwame and Terry steal the show throughout, as they deal with their own setbacks and emotional turmoil. Where I May Destroy You provides catharsis, Ted Lasso presents British eccentricity in all its stereotypical glory. At first I was skeptical of the show’s hype on Twitter, but once I gave in it charmed me, if only for Roy Kent’s emotional trajectory and extolling the restorative powers of shortbread. For a more accurate depiction of life in London, Steve McQueen’s series Small Axe provides a visually lush and politically clear-eyed depiction of the lives of British West Indians in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Lastly, how could I get through a recap of my year in tv if I don’t mention The Crown. Normal People may have needed an intimacy coordinator, but the number of Barbours at Balmoral was the real phonographic content for me.

Turning my attention across the Channel, after the trainwreck that was Emily in Paris, I started watching a proper French show, Call My Agent! It’s truly delightful, and unlike the binge-worthy format of "ambient shows” I have been really relishing taking an hour each week to watch CMA, subtitles, cigarettes, and all.

Honorable mention: The Last Dance for its in-depth look at many notable former Chicago residents; High Fidelity for reminding me of the years in college when my brother and I would drive around listening to Beta Band; and Big Mouth.

Music

My Spotify wrapped this year was a bit odd. I don‘t think “Chromatica II into 911″ is technically a song, so it revealed other things about my listening habits this year, which turned out to remain very much stuck in the last, sonically. I listened to a lot more podcasts than new music this year, but there were some records that found their way into heavy rotation. While I listened to a lot of classics both old and new to write my thesis (Paul Simon, Leonard Cohen, Prokofiev, and Bach) the soundtrack to my coursework, runs, walks, and editing was more contemporary. Standouts include: 

Saint Cloud by Waxahatchee, which makes me feel like I’m breathing fresh air even when I’m stuck inside all day 

La Bella Vita by Niia, which was there for me when I walked past my ex on 7th avenue (twice!) and he pretended that I didn’t exist 

Fetch the Bolt Cutters by THEE Fiona Apple, because Fiona, our social distancing queen, has always been my Talmud, her songs shimmering, evolving, and living with me every year 

Shore by Fleet Foxes, for the long drive to the Catskills 

Women in Music, Pt. III by HAIM, because these days, these days...

Musicians have been reckoning with tumult this year as much as the rest of us, and the industry has dealt with loss on all fronts. I’d be remiss not to talk about how the passing of John Prine brought his music into my life, and McCoy Tyner, who has been a companion through good and bad over the years. 

Honorable mention to: græ by Moses Sumney; The Main Thing by Real Estate; on the tender spot of every calloused moment by Ambrose Akinmusire; Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers; folklore by you know who; and songs by Adrianne Lenker. 

Reading

What would this overlong blob be without a list of the best things I read this year? While I left publishing temporarily, books, the news, and newsletters still took up a majority of my attention (duh and/or doomscrolling by any other name). I can’t be comprehensive, and frankly, there are already great roundups of the best longform this year out there, so this is mostly books and praising random writers. 

Last year I wrote about peak newsletter. Apparently, my prediction was a bit premature as this year saw an even bigger Substack Boom. But two new newsletters in particular have delighted me: Aminatou Sow’s Crème de la Crème and Hunter Harris’ Hung Up (her ”this one line” series is true force of chaotic good on Blue Ivy’s internet). Relatedly, Sow and Ann Friedman’s Big Friendship was gifted to me by a dear friend and another bff and I are going to read it in tandem next week. 

On the “Barack Obama published a 700+ page memoir, crippling the printing industry’s supply chains” front, grad school severely hamstrung my ability to read for pleasure, but I managed to get through almost 30 books this year, some old (Master and Margarita), most new-ish (Say Nothing, Nickel Boys). Four 2020 books in particular enthralled me:

Uncanny Valley: Anna Wiener’s memoir has been buzzed about since n+1 published her essay of the same name in 2016. Her ability to see, clear-eyed, the industry for both its foibles and allure captured that era when the excess and solipsism of the Valley seemed more of a cultural quirk than the harbinger of societal schism.  

Transcendent Kingdom: Yaa Gyasi’s novel about faith, family, loss, and--naturally--grad school was deeply empathetic, relatable, and moving. I think this was my favorite book of the year. Following the life of a Ghanaian family that settles in Alabama, it captured the kind of emotional ennui that comes from having one foot in the belief of childhood and one foot in the bewilderment that comes from losing faith in the aftermath of tragedy.  

Vanishing Half: Similarly to Transcendent Kingdom, Brit Bennett’s novel about siblings who are separated; it’s also about the ways that colorism can be internalized and the ways chosen family can (and cannot) replace your real kin. It was a compassionate story that captured the pain of abuse and abandonment in two pages in a way that Hanya Yanagihara couldn’t do in 720.

Dessert Person: Ok, so this is a cookbook, but it’s a good read, and the recipes are approachable and delicious. After all the BA Test Kitchen chaos this summer, it’s nice we didn’t have to cancel Claire. Make the thrice baked rye cookies!!!! You will thank me later.

Honorable mention goes to: Leave The World Behind for hitting the Severance/Station Eleven dystopian apocalypse novel sweet spot; Exciting Times for reminding me why I liked Sally Rooney; and Summer by Ali Smith, which wasn’t the strongest of the seasonal quartet, but was a series I enjoyed for two years.  

Podcasts

I’m saving my most enthusiastic section for last: ever since 2018, I’ve been listening to an embarrassing amount of podcasts. Moving into a studio apartment will do that to you, as will grad school, add a pandemic to that equation and there’s a lot of time to fill with what has sort of become white noise to me (or, in one case, nice white parents noise). In addition to the shows that I’ve written about before (Still Processing, Popcast, Who? Weekly, and Why is This Happening?), these are the shows I started listening to this year that fueled my parasocial fire:

You’re Wrong About: If you like history, hate patriarchy, and are a millennial, you’ll love Sarah Marshall and Michael Hobbes’ deep dives into the most notable stories of the past few decades (think Enron and Princess Diana) and also some other cultural flashpoints that briefly but memorably shaped the national discourse (think Terri Schiavo, Elian González, and the Duke Lacrosse rape case).

Home Cooking: This mini series started (and ended) during the pandemic. As someone who stress baked her way through the past nine months, Samin Nosrat and Hrishikesh Hirway’s show is filled with warmth, banter, and useful advice. Home Cooking has been a reassuring companion in the kitchen, and even though it will be a time capsule once we’re all vaccinated and close talking again, it’s still worth a listen for tips and inspiration while we’re hunkered down for the time being. 

How Long Gone: I don’t really know how to explain this other than saying that media twitter broke my brain and enjoying Chris Black and Jason Stewart’s ridiculous banter is the price I pay for it.

Blank Check: Blank Check is like the GBBO of podcasts--Griffin Newman and David Sims’ enthusiasm for and encyclopedic knowledge of film, combined with their hilarious guests and inevitable cultural tangents is always a welcome distraction. Exploring a different film from a director’s oeuvre each week over the course of months, the podcast delves into careers and creative decisions with the passion of completists who want to honor the filmmaking process even when the finished products end up falling short. The Nancy Meyers and Norah Ephron series were favorites because I’d seen most of the movies, but I also have been enjoying the Robert Zemeckis episodes they’re doing right now. The possibility of Soderbergh comes up often (The Big Picture just did a nice episode about/with him), and I’d love to hear them talk about his movies or Spike Lee (or, obviously, Martin Scorsese).      

Odds & Ends

If you’re still reading this, you’re a real one, so let’s get into the fun stuff. This was a horrible way to start a new decade, but at least we ended our long national nightmare. We got an excellent dumb twitter meme. I obviously made banana bread, got into home made nut butters, and baked an obscene amount of granola as I try to manifest a future where I own a Subaru Outback. Amanda Mull answered every question I had about Why [Insert Quarantine Trend] Happens. My brother started an organization that is working to eliminate food insecurity in LA. Discovering the Down Dog app allowed me to stay moderately sane, despite busting both of my knees in separate stupid falls on the criminally messed up sidewalks and streets of Philadelphia. I can’t stop burning these candles. Jim Carrey confused us all. We have a Jewish Second Gentleman! Grub Street Diets continued to spark joy. Dolly Parton remains America’s Sweetheart (and possible vaccine savior). And, last, but certainly not least: no one still knows how to pronounce X Æ A-12 Boucher-Musk.

[artificialqueens]

My Plus Ones- IFN

AN: slow chapter to write. I think I know where I want to go with this it’s just getting there. No real trigger warnings I don’t think. Thanks for reading!

Brian waited impatiently all week for his next group session with Bri. He tried to find things to distract him and pass time but everything lead his thoughts back to the cute group mentor. His art sketches all somehow started to resemble Bri in all his youthful cuteness, and soon he had filled almost half a sketchbook with his drawings of the man. He considered the idea that his sudden obsession came from complete starvation of any kind of human interaction, but Brian never just latched onto people like that. He put up walls and kept a distance so no one could get close enough to realise just how crazy he was.

Usually.

Bri was different. He was so at ease and natural with Brian. And Katya, when she showed up. It wasn’t normally so easy to be with people. Especially for Brian.

When Saturday eventually rolled around, Brian’s mother was shocked to find him up early in the bathroom getting ready. She raised her eyebrows and decided not to say anything, proceeding to the kitchen so she could prepare breakfast. She was all ready to compliment Brian on his appearance when he walked into the kitchen, but he beat her to it

“Do I look ok?” he said bursting in. His mother smiled.

“You look great honey. Do you want anything for breakfast?” Brian nodded grabbing some toast before swiftly leaving the kitchen, as quickly as he came in, to grab his coat.

“…we should go now.” He said standing by the front door. Again his mother opted not to say anything, she simply raised an eyebrow.

“Ok, honey. Let me grab my things.”

Brian was a hyperactive person at the best of times, so when he was actually anxious or excited for something it was almost unbearable. He fidgeted the entire drive to the leisure centre and his mother had to physically hold his leg down with her free arm to stop it from bouncing whenever the car stopped. Finally they had arrived and Brian’s (and his mother’s) prolonged torture came to an end. Brian didn’t even bother smiling at the receptionist, heading straight to the room from last time, his mother calling after him that she was getting coffee and would be waiting in the café.  Bri was already in the room as Brian walked in and he looked a little nervous himself. It was at that point that Brian realised that he had not actually considered what was going to be happening in these sessions. They didn’t really have enough people (well, enough separate bodies) for drama sketches or improvisation and Brian didn’t have much experience with dance. He had just been looking forward to speaking to Bri again.

“Howdy partner!” he blurted out seeing the cowboy style shirt Bri was wearing. “I have a question, is that the shirt you wear to lasso your horse and ride it to the local barn for a good old fashioned hoe down?” Brian joked. Bri glared at him

“Yes actually. It is. I also have a question, do you always wear backwards facing caps in an attempt to hide your receding hairline?” Brian started to wheeze flailing his arms around “because if so it’s not working!” Brian continued to cackle as Bri stared at him with a contented expression on his face, as though he was pleased with himself for making Brian laugh.

“No but seriously. What the fuck is with that shirt.” Brian said not letting how ridiculous it was go. Bri shrugged

“I don’t know, I guess I just like country music.” Bri said. Brian reclined, horror clear on his face. “What?” Bri laughed

“Country music is the music white people listen to while they fuck their cousins!”

“You don’t fuck your cousins?” Bri said in mock seriousness resulting in them both laughing

“Yes of course I do, I just don’t do it to country music.” they both continued to laugh

“But honestly Dolly Parton is my idle.” Brian pulled a judgemental face. “Bitch if you say anything…” Bri responded seriously, “If you badmouth her. I will personally find where you live and kill you in your sleep.” Brian giggled

“Oh and that would be a shame because then you’d have no one to actually come to these sessions.” Brian continued to giggle as Bri made that face of someone who clearly wants to laugh but, on principle, is trying not to.

“I hate you” he said eventually and they both gave in to laughter.

“Ahhh you sure do make a lot of threats and say some highly offensive things for someone who is supposed to be working with crazy people, how’d you get qualified?”

“You have to be qualified to do this?” Bri deadpanned with pretend panic, and they were again clutching onto each other’s arms and rocking back and forth in hysterics. Once they eventually calmed down, Bri attempted to curve the sessions back on track to what they were actually supposed to be, suggesting they played the two truths and a lie game as it would be fun and would help them learn more about one another. He got out a sheet of paper and a pen for each of them as they made two lists, one of lies and one of truths. They played the game multiple times and by the end of it Brian did feel he knew Bri a lot better. For example he knew that Bri had lived with his mother and had a step father who he didn’t get on with very well (Brian felt that there were implications of abuse but he didn’t want to pry, if so it was something they had in common). He also knew that Bri’s favourite colour was pink and that Barbie dolls were his favourite toys as a child although he was never actually allowed to play with them. He knew Bri never went to college and enjoyed writing songs on a guitar which he had taught himself to play.

(“I’ll bring the guitar next time, we can sing songs together aw” Brian said semi-seriously

“Sounds gay.” Had been the response from Brian who put on a fake old English man voice)

Bri also learned some stuff about Brian… and Katya, and even Trish made an appearance! He learnt that Brian’s favourite film was contact and that his hairline had started to recede at seventeen. Also that he wasn’t allowed pets anymore after an incident with a gold fish (Brian had refused to disclose any more information than that.) It became complicated once Katya then Trish wanted to play. He learnt that Katya once got arrested for urinating in public and that she once blacked out and woke up in a park next to a squirrel. He learnt that Trish used to live in a dumpster and previously enjoyed shoplifting earrings. (She pays for them now though.)

They were still laughing and playing the game when Brian’s mum hesitantly walked into the room.

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on anything, it’s just the session was supposed to be over an hour ago?” she said apologetically. Brian jumped up instantly at the arrival of his mother like a schoolkid caught kissing in the basement.

“Mum sorry! Oh my god I didn’t even realise!”

“Me neither!” Bri said checking his watch in disbelief.

“Oh! You must be Brian?” she exclaimed as she pulled him to the side slightly, making Brian feel like the child of a parent at parents evening. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to in these sessions but whatever it is its working. After the first one last week my son was eager to get back to them as quickly as possible” she laughed, and Bri flushed a pink colour whilst Brian just awkwardly looked down, pretending not to notice them.

“I guess we should go then now” he said reluctantly staring at Bri who stared back sadly like he was just realising it would be another week until they got to see one another.

“Until next week.” Bri said

“Ye” was Brian’s response. He slowly tore his eyes away from Bri and walked with his mum to the car. Once in the car was when his mother started asking questions.

“So, that’s Bri?”

“Yes?”

“And he does the sessions by himself?”

“Yes?”

“And you’re the only people who attend?”

“Yes?”

“Well… he’s even cuter in person.”

“Wait what?” Brian asked confused as to where his mother had seen Bri before. Brian’s mother smirked at him.

“You’re drawings honey.”

“Oh.”

“Listen,” she said suddenly, her tone changing slightly to a more sombre one “I really don’t want to have to say this, but you seem to get along really well. Don’t… scare off this friendship, yeah?”

“What do you mean?” Brian said emotionlessly

“Look Bri I’m not stupid, I can see you’ve got a good old fashioned crush on this guy. I don’t blame you. I just don’t want you to get the idea of a relationship in your head when you know why that’s likely not going to happen.” Brian’s head hung on his shoulders, he remained silent. It broke his mother’s heart. “Honey, I’m just trying to protect you.” Brian nodded his head

“I know.” He choked out.

“I’m sorry” she offered, reaching her hand out to join his.

[totesmccoats]

9/20/17

Batman: the Red Death The first of the Dark Knights rises! In Earth -52, Batman hunts the Flash for his speed force. With the Bat-Family dead, Bruce wants to steal Barry’s powers so that he can protect the entire world, much less Gotham. After a long and, for Barry, torturous chase, Bruce succeeds in merging himself with the Speed Force, becoming Batman the Red Death. Shortly thereafter, he is approached by the Batman Who Laughs, who tells him that his world is destined to die, but he knows of one destined to live – they just have to take it.

Metal continues to be, well, metal as hell. Let’s start with the Red Death’s awesome name and better costume. He looks insane! And instead of lightning, he leaves a trail of bats as he runs like some kind of super-fast Dracula! Dude! This is extremely my shit! The first half of the issue is the stronger one, really setting up how scary the Dark Knights are even before their new powers. Earth -52 Batman is just as intelligent and prepared, but completely ruthless. The second half is weaker because, one: it feels like a retread of the first, and two: the Red Death railroads the Flash. No build-up, no tension, just a straight curb-stomping. At least it looks dope as hell.

Batman #31 KITE. MAN. HELL. YEAH. Kite Man gives Batman and the Riddler the location of Joker’s final remaining safehouse, but it’s on top of a tower filled with traps. Only way in is through the windows, and only way to get Riddler’s army through 73rd floor windows is with…kites. That’s it. That’s the issue. Kite Man’s coup de grace. Riddler also manages to give an actually rattled Joker a beat-down, but Kite Man finally gets his win. And in the next issue, Batman does the unspeakable.

Superman #31 Another Lois issue! On assignment by the Daily Planet to interview a cartel boss, Lois goes to Bolivia only to find that Deathstroke had gotten to him and his crew first. Inspired, Lois decides to instead track down and interview the most dangerous killer in the world, and, being Lois Lane, succeeds, but also attracts the attention of another group of killers. Give. Lois. Lane. Her. Own. Book! Seriously. These issues where we follow Lois on her investigations are some of the best in the series, and offer a perspective that no other superhero book really does. If this were just a Superman story, it would involve Clark flying around the world to stop Deathstroke from killing people; but Lois goes to watch him, to interview him, even. Almost every other protagonist in a superhero book does things to change the world in some way – usually by saving it; but Lois’ actions are motivated by observation, not participation. She usually does end up being a part of every story she covers, but her goal is always to let things play out around her rather than intervene herself. And while I think James Bonny understands and nails this perspective, if Lois should get her own series, I wish it would be written by someone with a journalism background whom could also capture journalistic language as opposed to the novelistic style writers usually make Lois write in.

Green Arrow #31 With Hal unconscious and floating in space, it’s up to Green Arrow alone to take down the Ninth Circle’s satellite and also the goon in the mech-suit protecting it. Not the easiest task when you also consider Ollie can’t breathe in space. Luckily, he’s recently made some friends who might be able to help. Like last issue, the finale drops the political overtones from earlier in the arc for pure explosive action, but is still satisfying as a conclusion to Ollie’s personal arc of rebuilding bridges with DC’s other heroes. Ollie still has to take down the satellite on his own, but at least now he has friends to help clean up the mess he makes in doing so. And this change really does show an evolution from the fallout of the last arc with the destruction of Seattle, where it all fell on top of Ollie and his small team, with no-one coming in to help. Meanwhile, Black Canary also completes her arc, taking out the underground men with a triumphant catharsis over her own abusive upbringing, helping others so they don’t suffer as she had. All and all, and ending that reestablishes hope for Green Arrow’s corner of the universe, even as he heads straight into Metal and it’s dark universe.

The Wild Storm #7 We’ve got an info-dump! IO’s Jacklyn King, their chief of analysis checks in at work and assigns her team to look into the Angela situation before Skywatch finds out about the stolen technology and sparks a war between the two most powerful agencies on and off Earth. Meanwhile, John Colt needs a quick rescue from an IO blacksite he broke into before he gets found out and killed, which would prevent him from giving the HALO team the aforementioned info-dump about what IO knows about Jacob Marlowe and machine telepathy. As Cole says in the issue, it’s a lot to take in. Thankfully, Ellis still writes some of the most electric dialogue in comics, and still manages to squeeze in a propulsive fight scene right before the info-dump to give us something to wind-down from. But even then, it’s one of those “here’s what we know they know we know they know” info-dumps – one of the worst kinds – and after reading it three times I’m still not sure if I’ve taken away everything I was supposed to from it.

Wonder Woman/Conan #1 As a child accompanying his father to council, Conan was awe-struck by a black-haired girl named Yanna. Years later, after becoming the Barbarian, Conan happens upon a gladiator match between three men and one black-haired woman who manages to beat them. She demands her freedom, but cannot overpower all of her slaver’s warriors and is taken back in chains. Conan, once again awe struck, goes to rescue her. So far, this is unfolding as a Conan story with Wonder Woman in it. While Conan is full Conan here, WW is amnesiac, forgetting everything including her name, remembering only that she has powers, and once had a golden lasso. And, for some reason, she also fashions a passable enough facsimile of her costume out of rags and mud. We get plenty of Conan being Conan in this issue, fighting bandits, looking for gold and wenches, and sneaking into places; I just wish we got more Wonder Woman. Hopefully next issue.

Generations: The Marvels Under (pre-Secret Empire #10) mysterious circumstances, Kamala Khan is sent back in time to when her hero, Carol Danvers, was still Ms. Marvel; and working on a failing women’s magazine spun out of the Daily Bugle. Kamala accidentally becomes an intern at the paper, and has to help Carol save the magazine, and the world, from an alien invasion. As she’s tended to do with crossover stories, Wilson seamlessly blends what could’ve been an interruption into a natural extension of her main Ms. Marvel story, turning this one shot into another part of Kamala’s growth from being Carol’s acolyte to a Ms. Marvel entirely her own. Working closer with Carol than she really has before allows Kamala to really nail what their differences in personality and heroic philosophy are, and how she can be true to who she is while still being the Ms. Marvel the world needs her to be. And Wilson also makes this arc into Kamala’s strategy for saving the magazine, by having her explain to Carol the sort of balance between fun and function that modern women want from their reading material. Villanelli and Herring’s art is a perfect match for the alternate history setting of this story too. My impression was that the issue looks almost like a 70’s manga, with Villanelli’s manga-inspired character designs and style and Herring’s coloring giving the book an aged patina. The whole aesthetic really gives the impression of something foreign but familiar that I really enjoyed, and also fit Kamala’s experience in the issue.

Spider-Men II #3 The origins of Miles Morales 616. Miles had taken a fall for the Rigoletto crime family, finding himself in Rikers; and Wilson Fisk gets himself thrown in to tell him he’ll be out sooner than expected. Morales helps defend Fisk while their both in their, starting a friendship that takes them to the top of the family. Honestly, not a great origin? Having our earliest introduction to this new minority character finding him already arrested for gang activity is pretty problematic, even considering he’s supposed to be a bad guy. But even besides that, it’s just an origin that we’ve seen before way too many times. And like in most things, Wilson Fisk completely steals the spotlight. And while there are are definite similarities in flirting style during a scene where Miles meets his future wife, this issue doesn’t do much to make the two Miles’ feel like doppelgangers, which was kind of supposed to be the conceit of the story. Really, more than anything, after reading this I want more young-Kingpin, and could care less about Miles-in-name-only.

Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man #4 Spidey, Teresa, and Torch manage to survive the Tinkerer’s assault in Kingpin’s penthouse, but find out they’ve been fighting a decoy the entire time. And they come home to more bad news: that JJJ is running with the Spider-Man aiding a traitor to SHIELD story he was leaked, meaning that Spidey and Teresa are also now on the lam! Luckily, there’s one place Peter can think of that nobody would think to look for them, but asking to crash on someone’s couch is a big ask before even a second date! This is probably the loosest issue of Spectacular so far, having enough slack for Spidey to do a tight-five of stand-up while on the run, but I honestly like it. Compared to where Amazing is right now, I enjoy having a Spider-Man series that is more loose and silly, even a little chill despite itself. Spidey’s stand-up sticks out from the issue like a sore thumb, but it’s fun page; and I really wouldn’t mind if the entire series continues the trend and leaves slack in the story for silly side stuff life it in the future.

Snotgirl #7 Lottie takes Caroline to Haters’ Brunch in an attempt to integrate her new friend with her old ones, but it doesn’t go that well. But later that night, Caroline’s brother Virgil convinces Lottie to invite her to a comic con party with the other girls, take her out of the city for a while on a road trip. Meanwhile, a slightly amnesiac Charlene wakes up from her coma to a waiting Sunny, and, under the advice of a mysterious stranger, begins to retrace her steps from New Years. What makes this such an interesting series is that, for all the exquisite detail the book gives us into each of these character’s inner lives and monologues, they never seem to be the details we need to solve the series’ main mysteries – mostly surrounding Caroline and now her brother. Instead, the issue is more concerned about Lottie’s continued attempts to impress Caroline by hiding how much she enjoys things like waiting in lines to get into fancy restaurants, and comic-con. But of course, it turns out that Caroline actually wants to go to the party after all, despite it being nerdy. Plus, showing us Lottie’s self-conscious side does do a great deal humanize her, keeping us on the love-hate relationship rollercoaster this book’s set up between us and the protagonist. It’s super interesting how the book divides our attention, really – because it wants us to care about Lottie, and gives us so much of her that we’re kind of forced to despite how terrible of a person she may be, but never lets us forget about this big mystery that Lottie barely even knows is something to be solved. It’s a really fun push-and-pull to play with/against, especially as you never know what the stakes of any given issue is gonna be.

Bitch Planet: Triple Feature #4 Another successful book of short stories from the Bitch Planet universe. Deschamps, Lee, and Olea’s “Life of a Sportsman” shows us a corner of the world we haven’t gotten to before, revealing the hyper toxic-masculinity of sports in this world, following the career of a megaton player who gets off better than OJ and Brock Turner combined. Sara Woolley’s “Bodymod” shows us the extremes that plastic surgery went to in Bitch Planet, making women into literal angels and mermaids who live in constant pain for their beauty. And Ayala and Gifford’s “To Be Free…” is a heist, where a ballerina is recruited to steal something of incredible value from a history museum in order to help the resistance. Unlike last issue, none of these stories feel like they’re repeating themselves or stepping on each-other’s toes. This issue also has some of the most distinctive art of these collections yet, further expanding the universe.

—

9/27/17

Marvel Legacy #1 One million years ago, Odin and Agimotto joined ancient versions of the Pheonix, Starbrand, Iron Fist, Ghost Rider, and Black Panther to lock a Celestial deep under the Earth. Today’s versions of those heroes begin having dreams of those events, not understanding what they mean in the context of a world removed from its status quo. Welcome to Marvel Rebirth, essentially. Secret Empire really messed things up for the Marvel Universe, and it’ll take another universe threatening cataclysm to shake things back into shape. Not gonna lie, the Avengers One Million BCE is badass, if archeologically bonkers, and I’m excited to see more of them. And I’m also all about the return of Marvel’s first family. And also Space Wakanda. But overall, this felt a lot like Rebirth #1 without the soul. Just a bunch of hints to future stories.

Generations: Spider-Man Bendis does what he does best and writes an issue where two people just sit and talk to each-other. Miles Morales wakes up in the past, at Empire College, where he runs into a young Peter Parker, who is about to have one of the worst nights of his life. But instead of seeing that story (again), we see what happens when Miles talking to an exhausted Peter after the action, and learn what it means to live as Spider-Man, and the person under the mask. When forced to tell a story in one issue, Bendis really can do wonders, even in his normally dialogue heavy style. At its core, this issue is one Spider-Man revealing to another that being Spider-Man is never easy, it’s always sacrifice, and it’s always personal. And that’s exactly the sort of thing the first needs to talk about to learn when he’s won, and the second needs to hear to learn that he’s doing a good job.

Black Panther #18 The Midnight Angels go on a mission to retrieve Asira as T’Challa and Shuri investigate a village whose people were stripped completely to the bone. Shuri recognizes this from a Wakandan legend involving the Originators, but further investigation points towards a different origin. A lighter issue than most of Black Panther, consisting almost entirely of two action scenes with a last act reveal. Really not much to review in this one; it’s mainly a set-up for a big Legacy rematch.

Wonder Woman #31 Well, it’s not a great sign when the first issue of your Wonder Woman run barely has Wonder Woman in it. Instead, most of this issue concerns a fight between Hercules and Darkseid’s daughter, Grail. Wonder Woman’s only job in the issue is to find out who won. Like, the set-up is interesting enough, but I pick up this series to read about Wonder Woman, not Young Darkseid.

The Flash #31 Flash tries to evacuate the city before Bloodwork can hurt anyone, but with his powers still causing destruction everywhere he goes, realizes he has to stop this problem at the source. But hearing Bloodwork’s motivation helps Barry realize that his negative powers may be feeding on the same impulses, and realizing that can help the hero and villain alike. The end of this arc masterfully threads the needle from moody black-suit hero to reformed opportunistic hero, without letting Barry off the hook for being a jerk to his friends and family. Barry understands why his negativity has been ruling him, and promises to take steps to fix that, the first one being accepting responsibility for his actions. This ain’t a clean-slate for better-Barry. It’s self improvement, and it’s work. And its great that Williamson isn’t ending this arc with everything hunky-dory. It ends with Barry on the first step to healing, himself and those he’s hurt.

Batgirl #15 Dick and Barbara try to get some info on the Red Queen out of Mad Hatter, but he’s not talking much while in critical condition, and the hospital might not be the safest place for them at the moment, anyway. And in the past, Robin and Batgirl go undercover at a high school party to investigate where the drugs are coming from, but only find a strange song. And Barbara begins work on Ainsley’s project, which involves nano-bots with an intriguing glitch. I’m still charmed by this book strictly on the basis of DickBabs. It’s like, the one ship in fiction I’m actually invested in, and this story is handling it so well! Honestly, all I’m asking for are more Robin and Batgirl adventures, cute awkward flirting and all!

Nightwing: The New Order #2 Finally, a superhero about fascism I can get behind! Ok, “finally” is a bit much considering that this is basically an X-Men mutant registration story with DC characters; but what makes it work, unlike, say, Secret Empire, is that it addresses fascism’s marriage with bigotry. This issue flat-out says that this started because people were afraid of their neighbors, of the “others” that creeped in until it seemed like they suddenly overwhelmed the “normals.” And it shows that Nightwing, in a state of panic, gave into the fear and slippery-sloped the world into fascism. The details are unrealistic, of course, but the broad strokes ring true. The story does have one of the big issues that most X-Men stories like this also share, which is that unlike skin-color or religion, a superpower could actually pose a bodily threat to other people, and like weapons, should have public oversight…but that’s one of those dissonant you’ve just kinda gotta accept as part of the genre. Also, Bat-MVP Alfred-fucking-Pennyworth, refusing to stand down to fascism, bringing a bat to a gunfight, and showing Dick how it’s done. Next issue hopefully begins the Nightwing apology/ass-kicking tour.

Saga #47 We catch up with The Will, whom has been kidnapped by the vengeful widow of one of the many many many people he’s killed, who is using a magic VCR to playback his memories to find someone close to him that she can kill, and make him watch. Sadly, for both of them really, she’s having more trouble finding someone close to The Will still alive. It has been a minute since Saga featured the universe’s most unfortunate bounty-hunter, but this issue more than makes up for it. Through the magic VCR we witness the childhood incident that turned him into a freelancer, and an early mission with The Stalk, before his kidnapper discovers a memory she can do something with. The developing rapport between the Will and his kidnapper is also golden. She’s trying way too hard to play the supervillain, prancing around and taunting, to break the Will, but he’s already too broken to care, and has nothing left to lose anyway. I really can’t wait to see how she eventually becomes his new sidekick or partner and the sorts of hijinks they’ll get into.

Crosswind #4 After a pleasurable, but confusing, night out with Cason’s fiance, June finally decides to try and call the man whose body she’s inhabiting by calling herself. Fortunately, Cason – in June’s body – picks up, and the two have a conversation about being each-other. And June needs the advice, as Case’s life is about to get very very dangerous. It’s really an accomplishment that this issue can have a body swap conversation – in a silent medium, remember – with characters that are rarely using their own names, and still have it be completely legible. Case and June just have such distinctive “voices” in syntax and diction and style, that they’re clear even coming out of the other’s mouth. Just from a writing perspective, that’s super impressive on Simone’s part. But it’s also the rare body-swap conversation where the characters aren’t complaining to the other about how hard their lives are, the opposite in fact. Each compliments the other for the good in each-other’s lives. Cason compliments June on her son and gentleness, while June tells Case how impressed she is by the respect everyone shows him. But they also tell the other to be careful and not mess their lives up before they can swap back. And the issue rounds off with each actually making steps to work on maintaining the other’s appearances, with June hiring some people to watch her back; while Case goes to a neighbor’s house to find out how to be more ladylike. The conflict in this book isn’t with each-other at all, it’s already present in their own lives, and the other just has to deal with a completely foreign situation. Also, Simone gets in a couple of good boner jokes! Always a plus. Lastly, Staggs is doing so much with these characters’ body language. Posture, reactions, how they hold phones or go to sleep tells us so much about every character completely wordlessly, and in the sort of fine detail that’s not easy to come by in most comics. This is a wonder on every level.

Comic Reviews for 9/20/17 and 9/27/17 9/20/17 Batman: the Red Death The first of the Dark Knights rises! In Earth -52, Batman hunts the Flash for his speed force.

[eatghostjerky]

Je Ne Suis Pas Lefou

His shadow crept across the cobblestones in the lamplight as he rounded the corner of the alleyway. A cat hissed loudly at him from behind a pile of day old cabbages. Crickets filled the air with a suspenseful one note song. He crouched lower behind the market stall, not wanting to be seen. He heard whispers coming from the end of the alley but wasn’t able to make out their words. Slowly, he began to move toward them, shuffling sidelong across the rough stone of the buildings to keep in the shadows. The cat hissed again and he held a finger to his lips and shot the cat a miffed expression. The voices began more clear and Lefou listened closely.

“I…I don’t know. That’s a lot of money.”

“I assure you, they’re the finest quality around. You won’t find another set like them. I’m offering them to you first because I know you’ve got a fine eye for things like this.”

“Did you hear that?”

“You’re just spooked, old man. Listen, this is a one-time offer. What do you say?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll take them. But I’ll have you know, Gaston, I can’t keep meeting you like this. What would Belle think?”

“I’m sure she’d insist on being the one meeting me in the middle of the night next time, Maurice.”

Gaston gave Maurice a pat on the should that almost knocked the old man’s moustache off and he let out a bellowed laugh that sent the cat scurrying from the alley. “Now hurry on home, old man, you wouldn’t want to leave precious Belle alone at home for too long. There’s no telling just who might show up while you’re away.” Maurice nodded and waddled back down the alley, carrying his purchase with him. As he rounded the corner, Gaston began to sing and dance around the market stalls.

“That’s one more creature conquered, that’s one more sack sold, more gold in my pocket, this gig never gets old. This life that I lead isn’t for the faint of heart, it takes courage and strength and bow skills, for a start. I hunt and I kill even the mightiest foe, I stuff them and mount them And sell them for gold. No one can match my skills that’s just a fact. I’m Gaston the poacher forest creatures, watch your back!”

Gaston twirled and spun around the alley with glee, kicking over barrels of fruit and spices as he danced and sang. Lefou watched from the shadows, trying unsuccessfully to duck the flying wares. He was hit in the face by pears and apples, he wore a watermelon smile briefly, and even had a basket of eggs land on his head.

Covered in pulp, Lefou watched Gaston walk onto the street and stride into a tavern. His suspicions about Gaston had been confirmed and he knew didn’t have much time to report back to his agency, the Cardinal Regiment Against Poaching. His C.R.A.P. superior would be delighted to have confirmation of such a big poacher and Lefou would likely earn a commendation. The thought of being not just an agent but an officer of C.R.A.P. filled Lefou with joy. He’d been working undercover as a bumbling idiot and Gaston’s abused sidekick for too long and this was his chance to make it all worthwhile. Lefou raced home to start working on his plan to catch Gaston in the act and finally put him away in the C.R.A.P.H.O.L.E.—the agency’s Housing for Offenders of Looting the Environment.

Three days and an orchestral montage later, Lefou’s plan was finally coming together. He had passed his plan over the desk of his superior who stamped it with approval without so much as a question. It would take cunning, guile, and probably another song but Lefou was sure he could pull it off. Because he was undercover as Gaston’s sidekick, he was privy to all of Gaston’s whereabouts. He also was tasked with cleaning Gaston’s guns and purchasing ammunition for them. When Gaston asked Lefou to ready his finest musket for a hunt, Lefou knew it was time to put his plan into action.

The day of the hunt, Lefou prepared Gaston’s weapons just the way he liked and bid him happy hunting. As soon as Gaston left his cottage, Lefou raced out of the back door and took a shortcut through the woods to Gaston’s favorite hunting spot. Lefou crouched behind a fallen tree and waited for Gaston to approach. When he saw Gaston coming up the trail, Lefou quickly put on a deer suit that he had made. The antlers were so big that Lefou was certain Gaston wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to take them as a prize. Once he was in the suit, Lefou, with all the grace and majesty of a mighty buck, leapt over the fallen tree from where he was hiding and into view of Gaston. Lefou started grazing on the grass to be as convincing as possible. He waggled his white tail and scraped his antlers on the ground, hoping to entice Gaston.

Gaston was surprised to see what was undoubtedly the ugliest creature in the forest crawling over a fallen tree and sliding down the other side. Its skin was wrinkled and sagging, its head turned slightly off center, and he was positive he had seen one of its antlers fall over. The creatures forelegs were much shorter than its hind legs and its entire body was tilted forward. It tried to eat grass but its nose kept wrinkling into the dirt and its mouth didn’t seem to open, it was a wonder the thing hadn’t starved to death. It didn’t look wounded but it certainly didn’t look healthy, either. “This will make for a…unique addition to my collection,” Gaston said as he raised his musket and took aim. Suddenly, for forest erupted with music and the creature stood on its hind legs and began to sing.

“Gaston you’ve been poaching for too many years, it’s time to give up on the hunt. You need to see that your actions are wrong, the forest is no battlefront. I’m arresting you for C.R.A.P., now come with me you’ll be locked up for the rest of your days. Shooting these creatures large and small is no way to to make your hay. We’ll see that peace of the forest restored and nothing will fear you, you brute. Behind the bars of your cell the only creatures you’ll see will be the ones climbing your boot.”

As Lefou sang and danced, he lassoed Gaston with heavy chains.

“Who are you, you fool? Untie me!” Gaston protested. Lefou took off the head to his suit and Gaston reddened with rage. “Lefou! You idiot, what are you doing?”

“The name is Débile. Agent Débile. I’ve been working undercover as Lefou to catch you and now you’re done!” Gaston protested and swore his revenge on Agent Débile and the creatures of the forest but, despite all his rage, was unable to escape the ties. Débile called his backup and Gaston was hauled away to the C.R.A.P.H.O.L.E. Débile was promoted to C.R.A.P. Commander and heralded for his bravery in bringing Gaston to justice. The peace of the forest was indeed restored and lasted for the rest of time. Or at least until the sequel.

-WDK

[charlottebent-blog]

Lead Balloon

Some days my anorexia seems more significant than others. Some days it’s a lead balloon, lassoed onto me. I’m unsettled, constantly reminded of my defect. Troubled and unable to pinpoint my difficulty, I’m lost. Homesick without a home. Some days I’m able to mask my malnourished identity, as if I’m intact. Drifting through normality with ease, forgetting that my health differs from that of anyone else’s. I cling onto these days. I think I was hoping to chameleon my way through recovery. Discreetly adapting to normality, waiting for something one day to click. A mental light switch; the scales will once again balance, and I won’t have to act normal, because I will be normal. These days are soul crushing. It’s only when the mental uproar begins that I appreciate the gentler times.

Unfortunately the days in which I can taste ordinariness have a tendency to deviate from when I actually need them i.e. Monday’s. Approaching the clinic I experience the ever-so familiar Monday morning dread, a similar feeling to the Manchester commuters I am squashed among. Jam-packed with miserable suits and briefcases, it’s a wonder the tram hasn’t sunk with despair. Anxiously picking and tearing my lip to shreds, I attempt to muster up every ounce of strength to withstand an hour of addressing my fears and phobias. I’ve recently taken to sucking my thumb again as a means of self-soothing (like a naive 3 year-old just awoken from a nap), however I refrain from doing so on public transport in a bid to prevent being asked if I’m lost and where my Mum is.

Waiting as patiently as possible, an (I can only assume) ex-drug user informs me that it is cold outside. With my lips being too numb (as a result of mentioned temperature/nervous picking) I’m unable to create a suitable verbal response, therefore I concur this feeling with a nod. I sense he is dissatisfied with this reply. I produce a book from my bag and begin the pretence of reading (a skill which I have perfected thanks to regularly being confronted by drug/alcohol abusers), as I do so I can feel his fierce glare burning a hole in my forehead. The uncomfortable silence is finally broken with Paula’s head abruptly popping through the door like a jack-in-the-box.

Routinely, Paula asks how my week has been and how I feel. In previous weeks I made the error of mistaking how I feel for a feeling (how carelessly silly of me), therefore to  save ourselves the weekly argument of: ‘I feel fat’ 'Fat is not a feeling’ 'Well yes it is because I FEEL fat’ 'Being overweight is a physiological state, not a feeling’ 'I FEEL FAT!!!!’ (I have written the word 'feel’ so much that I am beginning to doubt whether it is an actual word. Something which I had to pause writing to google to ensure I wasn’t going entirely bonkers. For you word boffins out there, there is actually a term for this: semantic satiation. Anyway, now my remaining sanity is reassured, you get the gist of our disagreement) I decide to select a feeling closest to chubby-chub-chubster.

Disgust. Disgust is all I feel. I am disgusting. Despite supposedly having a lower than average BMI I have never felt so hefty, bordering on shot-putter physique (but more wobble, less gristle). My disproportioned diet means I have the complexion of Jabba the hut. Any minuscule amount of photogenic-ness I previously had has been stripped. When someone produces a camera I broadcast a smile so distressing that it causes photos to be deleted automatically. Filled with dread and trepidation at the thought of food, I spend majority of meal-times (plus pre- and post-meal) grimacing like a frightened chimp. Hence why my Grandad never looks shocked when I inform him for the 42,539th time that I am single.  

Feeling childish and pathetic, I tell Paula the difficulty of simplistic daily tasks, such as; walking the dog and deciding what clothes to wear. With gritted teeth to hold back any temptation of an emotional outpour, I sink into the chair. I can’t do this anymore. In an extraordinarily rare occasion I reject  Paula’s 'do you want your life back or not?’ rant. I won’t do this anymore and I can’t do this anymore. I am back to square one, attempting to create inventive, unconventional ways in which I can exist with this defect to attack any of Paula’s sensible suggestions.

Having gained weight in a week in which I was not mentally equipped for, until now I had struggled to ignore Paula’s words of wisdom, but now the voice is stronger and harsher than ever. Defensive, it is easy to resist any logic or sense surrounding food. Paula could be protesting louder than my Dad’s atrocious snoring, she could be amplified with dozens of foghorns, with all the noise in the world, and the voice in my head would still mute her effortlessly.

The frustration with mental illness is that it’s not physical, it may be reflected in a physical manner i.e. weight loss, skin spottier than a dalmatian, lips a distinguishing shade of blue when the temperature drops by 1˚C etc, but the root of the issue is invisible. A distorted mentality; infected thoughts. That’s why it’s difficult to comprehend that these thoughts aren’t mine. They come from my head, they’re inside me, therefore they must be my thoughts. And who are all these people to criticise thoughts that I have created? I’m told there’s something or someone else in my head but how is that possible? (for one my head is the size of a pea on steroids). It’s like asking me to believe in UFO’s or ghosts. If someone had a tumour growing on them they wouldn’t say it had a separate identity, that tumour is an extension of THEIR cells, just like these thoughts are an extension of mine. By telling me they’re distorted is like telling me I don’t know how to think, that I’m incapable of producing thoughts that are my own. These are my thoughts, just like this is my illness. I’m not going to let some unknown presence take responsibility for that.

Despite promising Paula not to restrict, I know it’s a vow I cannot keep. Detecting my refusal of positivity, she blackmails me, informing me that if I disobey she will hit me. Fortunately (for me, unfortunately for Paula) I do not feel threatened by this, mainly because 1) I already have quite a strong case against the NHS for their shoddy eating disorder service in this area, physical violence would only consolidate my claim. 2) With the amount of addicts I have come into contact with in recent weeks I feel I could assemble a fairly intimidating team to help protect me from a small red-headed woman. 3) Quite honestly pain is relief, therefore if she were to thump me she��d be saving me a job, as well as encouraging my allegedly abnormal behaviour. Either way it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than a smack to allow me to eat. There’s no talking my way around. This week Shanna is my friend, my ally. I welcome her familiarity like a breath of fresh air. This week I give in to my demons.