#and he wasn't the worst person involved by a mile
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mayasaura · 8 months ago
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T-T ace attorney dual destinies I'm trying so hard to give you a chance. I got past the ludicrous initial case that makes no sense. I got past the patronizing depiction of hallucinations. now you hit me with overt homophobia.....
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fallbhind · 1 month ago
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"HOW DO I LOVE A VAMPIRE?"
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synopsis : after walking in on you sucking on a blood bag, from possibly a live vessel somewhere, dean tied you to a chair possibly going to harm you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so to you.
➤ warnings .ᐣ vampire!reader. fem!reader. angsty. tw blood &&. slight sh. beta read﹔@starkeysprincess. wc﹔1.4k
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IT WAS the worst thing dean could've found out. his 'true love' being a vampire, after all he's done for you, he gave a home, well— multiple homes. but it wasn't the point when he had twenty other thoughts running through his head. he could be an ass, really. (but he still kinda loved you, in a way). dean was clearly stressing. you could tell, somewhat.
he hissed gruffly through his teeth, "think you could keep your secret forever, huh— vampy?" self consciously, he tightened the metal like chains, you couldn't really tell in what it was, considering the darkened room, with just the slightest light threatening to poke out, your eyes had already dilated towards the light, which was probably why you weren't nearly as focused on what held you bound to the wooden chair.
you let out a muffled noise, due to the hand towel that had you gagged. "poor thing, havin' trouble?" dean said lowly, "to bad." he tapped your forehead roughly as sweat beads began to form. not only from the heat, but from the irking feeling growing at the bottom of your stomach.
highly doubting you'd make it out alive, especially with how off edge dean had gotten.
"nervous? should be—" he tugged down towel, squeezing your cheeks together in a taunting gesture, little miss vampy without any power, while dean quite literally held your life in his hand. he delivered a gentle love (far from love) tap, on your cheek.
he was oh so cruel to the women he once loved. he pulled your mouth open, using his thumb to press onto your upper gum, feeling the traces of your sharper teeth. he knew how to handle vampires, but he felt more hatred towards you. and it was understandable, he thought he found 'the one' only for 'the one' to be a vampire. guess his supernatural senses weren't tingly enough.
dean knew john was practically rolling in his grave for being such a moron, a naïve little moron who chose love instead of what his actual life involved around, hurting and killing the supernatural.
and not to mention, he trusted you around his brother— the one he was supposed to watch! to protect. and yet he was so stupid, he allowed a wretched monster into his life. you let out a beastly cry, the sharp teeth working their way out as dean's thumb pressed harder on them.
"let me—" you growled under your breath, "—explain!" the sharper teeth gradually over came your normal teeth, by that time, dean had already pulled his thumb out your mouth.
"explain?" he chuckled sarcastically, "explain what?" dean tapped your forehead, "i know you ain't that stupid, you can't dig your way out of this grave."
his hand made it's way towards your throat, "c'mere little bitch." he growled, squeezing your throat your mouth wide open as your source of air was cut off. your face strained, eyebrows furrowed in pain. when he finally decided to release you, you went straight back into your chair, teeth barred at him.
the saliva steadily increasing your mouth, "m'sorry—" you managed out, struggling against the restraints that held you captive to the chair, your back muscles straining. dean paced in circles around you, his brain running twenty thousand miles, the last thing he need to hear was your pathetic-babbled apologies.
dean went over to his hunting bag, "shut up." he hissed at you, "i'll kill you with some dead persons blood." he growled, pulling out the little baggy, filled with what was to be assumed, dead man's blood. you pulled back pathetically in your chair, shaking your head as you babbled over sorry-panicked apologies.
you closed your mouth, bottom lip visibly trembling, even in the dark room. the room was humidified, making you feel icky.
dean walked out of your eye sight, coming back with a knife in hand, appearing behind you. his arms loosely wrapped around you as he dug the knife into his skin, pulling away as you cried out as the blood prickled from the straight line, "stop!" you cried out again, not wanting dean to hurt himself to prove a point.
"bite me—" he hissed, forcing his arm onto your mouth, "c'mon!" he smeared the blood across your mouth. he shoved your head roughly against the bleeding cut, the knife clattering onto the floor.
you let out a soft whimper, lifting your chin up towards his face, eyes squeezed shut, tightly. "please m'sorry dean." you pleaded pathetically, tears threatening to form, your bottom lip trembling even more than before. causing him to take a slight pause, "don't hurt yourself—" another soft spoken pathetic whimper falling from your lips, that were cracking as you used your saliva to moisten your lips.
it was possibly the biggest pause he had when coming to killing a monster, pulling his arm away from you. "son of a bitch—" he hissed roughly through his teeth, giving a final shove to the chair before backing away. his gray sweaty, dirty shirt pulled taut against his chest, his button up flimsy long sleeves rolled up.
dean went back to steadily pacing just knowing john was definitely rolling in his grave, shaming dean. for not being able to harm a supernatural. he knew what was right, to kill you. but apart of him just wanted to forget he ever walked in on you feeding from your little baggy of blood, teeth buried into the bag. to just hold you tight at night, like usual.
if he spent his whole life hunting supernatural, killing them with no mercy, what was the difference? sure— it was hard because he still kinda loved you, but your a monster. you don't deserve to— to well, live. you should've never gotten that right to learn to crawl, walk, run, talk, even breath, is what he was taught.
his fingers traced the cold metal that you tugged on. dean couldn't let you live. but at the same time— you never bit him or sam, so maybe it would be safe, but it wouldn't be fair to those you torture, who beg and scream for mercy, no nono. but yet again—
god, he could really just— strangle you. dean let out a soft noise of frustration, just glaring at you.
it was your fault he was in this position, he really needed castiel (that stupid angel)— maybe even sam, for guidance. you broke that train of thought when you let out a soft whimper, the metal chains rubbing up against your wrist, making them slowly bruise from the constant force and friction being forced onto them.
"baby—" you babbled pathetically, "m'sorry— i-"
he huffed in a tone of annoyance, "sure, real sorry ain'tcha?" he mumbled aggressively, taking his thumb and index to squeeze your cheeks, causing them to unwillingly pucker.
he tapped tapped tapped your cheek, finding himself in a complete roadblock with his situation. he could really go for an apple pie. or any pie at the moment, really.
with a pout of his own, he kept squeezing your cheeks, "i don't know why you're doin' this to me, sweethang." he ran his fingers through his hair, to destress what feelings had built up. dean watched your leg jostle up and down, knowing you where waiting for the anticipation of what he was going to do to you. wether it was pure anxiety or excitement was in question.
vampires are peculiar creatures. really. but if he can't hurt you, what kind of person does that make him? a bad hunter, but a good boyfriend(ish). dean drawled in a soft breath as he worked his way to untangle the chains. the metal clanked on the ground, "m'sorry." he whispered. "i don't ever wanna see you again." he took a pause, "if i happen to see you, you're dead. alright, now.. go."
"but—" you stumbled over your words, "i won't—" your hands going up to cup his face. you brought his face towards you, letting out a pathetic babble, "please don't make me leave."
in the panicked state, you leaned into him, slightly (almost like old times). dean looked down at you, face filled with digust, "leave." he hissed gently.
you shook your head no, like he had given you an option to stay, you stayed still as dean solemnly had the digust look on his face, watching you frown, the digust slowly faded to solemn. "fine— but only for a little bit." he wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you into his chest, taking in a long breath of air.
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TAGS .ᐟ @mattsdolll. @sematarygirls. @beausling. @archiveofvirtue.
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ficjoelispunk · 10 months ago
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Hi Emyyy! ❤️
I’m completely obsessed with Be my Assistant, I’m a ghost reader most of the time, but I make a point of saying that this story is amazing, looking forward to the next chapters.
I also saw that your Requests are open, and I thought if you could write something about Joel being extremely protective... just an idea…
OMG! Thank youuuu. 🥹 Be my Assistant, It means a lot to me... I’m glad you’ve liked it.
And, sure I can write for you, it be a pleasure <3
-
I’ll take care of you
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"She never looked nice, she looked like art. And art wasn't supposed to be nice, it was supposed to make you feel something."
Summary: You needed to solve a situation that put you in trouble, your salvation was always around you and you never realized, you would never expect your salvation to come from it.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. Reader.
Wordcount: 6.4k
Warnings: Physical aggressions, canon, protective Joel.
Oneshot
A/N: Just to remind you that English is not my first language, so I apologize for the grammatical errors.
One of the few clandestine bars in the QZ was crowded tonight. Crowded bar in a QZ wouldn't be new, it's not like having a lot of programming on a night locked up in QZ. But it was clandestine because, you know, alcohol and the current situation of humanity awakens the worst of the human being, it’s difficult to maintain order when you have alcohol involved. So, FEDRA decided that ending leisure would be easier than monitoring.
You've never been here. You was accompanied by one of the teachers who teaching in the FEDRA school together with you, Denise, she was also your friend, or at least the person with whom you had the most contact here. And particularly, you was feeling so ridiculous for being here. But apparently that was the only way. Your only salvation.
When you live in an extreme environment. It seems that your whole mind revolves around extreme attitudes. God had already forgotten about you for a long time, you had been stuck in this place for 18 years.
It wasn’t as if before you had already gone through a training on how to survive the apocalypse, just as they did when the fire alarm roong in the school hallway sometimes for training. You were completely useless, if it wasn't for your brain. So, yes, you were stuck here, because it was a safe place.
It wasn't like you wanted to live in this world either. But you were here, you stayed for some reason then, it made sense to continue living one day at a time.
"It's the one who is leaning against the wall at the back of the bar"
You heard Denise's coordinates, but waited a moment to turn around and look. Unfortunately, the man was already staring at you. A burning cold radiated through your stomach as if you were losing the floor. You looked away quickly.
Ok. It's now or never.
You took a deep breath, taking the first step towards the man. Deviating from the people who crowded the unhealthy establishment. He was tall, his arms strong crossed, placing more emphasis on his imponence. The expression not at all friendly. His forehead formed a wrinkle between his eyebrows, which made his expression harder. The dark eyes, as if I could kill just with the look.
Your heart was racing, if it weren't for the music, and the buzz of the conversations, you could say that the sound of your heartbeat could be heard miles away. Nervousness, anxiety took over your body, your hands were sweating.
The man stared at you without even blinking. When you were close enough to him, you spoke.
"You're Joel, right?"
He studied you. Running his eyes through your body, without answering. He looked over your head, being silent, squeezing his arms more in front of his body. You wondered if you had spoken too quietly, and he hadn't listened to you. Or if he was really choosing to ignore you.
"Okay..." you hummed, looking at the side "sorry, that was a mistake" you turned around, to make your way back.
A man bumped into you. Joel pulled your body close to his, carefully, just in an attempt to avoid the shock between you and the man.
"Be careful where you walk" he growled at the man, who didn't even have the trouble to apologize.
***
Joel had seen you walking through the QZ before. The first thing that crossed his mind was, how God - if He existed - had the courage to leave someone like you, here, in this world forgotten by Him?
You walked so lightly that it was possible to believe that your feet didn't even touch the ground. Your features were delicate, gentle eyes. So soft. You were like a breeze in a field of flowers in the spring. Always stacking books in your arms. Walking as if no one could see you.
But Joel saw you. Not only did him see, how inevitably, him automatically blamed himself for thinking about putting his hands on you, feeling the softness of your skin, holding your hair, resting his lips on your neck, feeling your smell, your body on his, your warmth. For imagining how good you would feel with him. How good he could be for you, how he would do everything he could for you to stay that way, exactly like that, as if the fucking world wasn't over yet.
And now see you here, in this bar, in the underworld of the apocalypse, your angelic figure in a stupid summer dress, highlighting the soft of your breasts, your hair stuck behind your head, letting the rest loose fall on your shoulders, shit! What was the angelic creature doing here, in the middle of this hell?! What did you do walking towards him? Looking at him as if you were in pain... The things he would be willing to do to get you out of the middle of this dirt... take you away from this worm den.
Your voice was so sweet, that he could be selfish and ask you to repeat, just for him to listen to you once again.
"What do you want?" His voice was deep and hoarse, carried by the accent.
You turned your body to face him, while Joel held your arm balancing you so that you stood up again. As soon as he made sure you were balanced, he moved his hands away from your arm. And goddammit... your skin was as soft as he imagined it could be, it was a sin for him to touch something like you. You were so close to him that he could smell a lavender smell that exhaled from you.
You held your index finger, scratching your cuticle. Avoiding looking at him. It was almost painful not to be able to look you in the eye. He tried not to watch you so much, so as not to look like a crazy man.
"I heard you have pills, I need one"
Joel raised an eyebrow, looking at you again. Why did you need pills? You didn't do the kind of girl who used drugs, or who needed controlled medicines. You looked healthy, so healthy that it was offensive someone so healthy in the middle of this shit.
"What kind?"
"The kind that makes someone sleep. Sleep without the risk of waking up"
***
This man didn't even look at you. He seemed to be hating you with all his strength. Shit! You had never done that before, you didn't know how to do it.
Now his eyebrows were united. Maybe you didn't express yourself right.
You shook your head.
"Not for the person to die. It's not that" even though it would be exactly that "it's the dosage, the dose needs to be strong" you tried to explain.
He looked away from you again, straightening himself on the wall. It was as if he was disappointed that he had to deal with a person like you. Who doesn't even know what you needs, or what you wants to buy. A perfect idiot, who is making him waste time.
"How many?" He asked.
"How many do you have"
He looked at you from the corner of his eye.
"I'll deliver it to you in two days, after the turn"
You blinked a few times.
"Okay," you nodded, "where?"
"I'll find you"
***
You are a simple woman. So simple that sometimes the feeling is lowered to useless. You're not good with weapons, you know almost nothing about how to survive outside. Never - not even when you were in high school - got involved in a fight, in fact you were excellent at being invisible. Going unnoticed was your specialty.
Your tastes revolved around art, history, philosophy, music, cinema and books. No manual work, no engineering, no medicine, nothing that was really worth it now in this scenario.
But eventually, after the QZ was well established, you got a job at the FEDRA school, as an Arts teacher. That was your routine, teaching children and adolescents, what was art. Have you ever imagined a world without art? And an apocalypse with art? Yeah, none of these scenarios were positive. It was not an easy job, in fact this was the farthest from being something "risky" you came close to in your entire life. Teaching art to children in an apocalyse, it was like telling a terminal patient, to believe in a miracle.
Life for you passed in a quiet and tedious way. The only time you subjected yourself to something - in your opinion - absurd, was when you learned that one of the smugglers were selling a copy of Pride and Prejudice for 10 cards. It was the best.
Assimilating all this to cowardice is not that bad now, is it? You criticized yourself for not knowing how to defend yourself. For not knowing what to do in a risky situation. And now, more than ever.
Mainly because, approximately 6 months ago, a new battalion of FEDRA soldiers were reassigned to this QZ. One afternoon, Denise introduced you to her new boyfriend, who was accompanied by another man.
"Nice to meet you" you said shaking hands with your friend's boyfriend.
"The pleasure is mine. This is Maxwell"
The other man reached out to you. You gave in to the handshake, which he immediately pulled to his lips to press a kiss on the back of your hand.
"Nice to meet you, beautiful" he said.
The eyes running through you, as if you were a piece of meat.
Immediately your alerts were turned on, the discomfort ran through your veins flooding your body with an unconscious repulsion.
"I don't like him" you tell to Denise.
"Stop being paranoid, he's a gentleman, and his salary is great"
You made a face at her, who smiled ignoring your disgust.
Since then, you have practically run away from this Maxwell.
"Hey, Teach!"
The voice you try to avoid, entered through your ears and wrapped your stomach at the same moment.
You looked away from the book to the door of your classroom. Maxwell had his hand over the gun he paraded through the corridors, and a petulant smile stamped on his face.
"Can I help you with something?"
He came approaching your table, until he was in front of you.
"Actually, I’d like to make an invitation"
You sighed. Closing your book, keeping it in your bag, and getting up.
"Go ahead" you smiled embarrassedly.
"My turn ends now at 6 p.m., I thought I could accompany you to your house, who knows, eat something, I have some cards..."
Your eyes ran to the clock at the back of the room. 17:50.
"Sorry, Maxwell, I actually already have other plans, maybe another time?!"
You nodded to him, taking the first steps towards the door. But even before your hands could put your bag on your shoulder, your back hits the board hard, behind you.
Maxwell held your throat, while pressing his body on yours. His face so close to yours, just being separated by the beret flap of the FEDRA uniform he wearing.
"Do you think you can fool me? Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"Please, just..."
“Huh?”
He pushed you harder, squeezing his fingers more around your neck.
"You don't have any fucking plans, I follow you every night and you make the same route every day! Every time Denise invited you to dinner, you said there was an appointment, but you were at home..."
You were running out of air.
"What the fuck..." a third voice caught your attention.
The squeeze loosened, and you slipped down the wall, with your hands in your throat trying to relieve the pressure that settled there, coughing with the oxygen invading your lung.
Maxwell looked at the girl standing at the door, with her eyes snapping and her mouth open in shock by the scene she was witnessing.
"Ellie..." you tried to say, while straightening the posture.
The soldier walked towards her, but you held his arm.
"No. She's my student," you said with your hands on his chest, pushing him back, "it's all right"
"If you open your mouth" he growled on your face leaning over you "I disappear with you. You know that an art teacher will not be missed by anyone"
Since then, this bastard has been blackmailing you in every possible and impossible way.
Ellie was the only student really interested in your classes, she was interested in the techniques in paintings, the books you presented, you developed an affection for this girl, you would not be able to let something happen to her. Never.
And out of fear, an unreal fear that this man ended up implanting in your brain, you have been giving him more than half of your cards, with the thought that the cards will keep his hands to himself.
For a while, this worked, but now, he was bored. And he was furiously after you. The only way out you could think of was to disappear with him, before he disappears with you. That was the bravest act your brain could think of.
You would be ready, you would dope him and then kill him. And now you were waiting for the damn pills, to put your plan into action.
Your brain was so overwhelmed by despair and panic, that this was the best solution you thought of.
That was it, you just had to put up with two more days. Get out of class, and go straight home, as soon as possible, before Maxwell's turn is over, lock all the locks, push your closet on the door, and wait until the next day.
Your thoughts were aligned and you knew exactly what to do. You had passed by the library to take an anatomy book home, and study the possibilities of where exactly you should cut, so as not to make so much mess.
It would have to be like this, because you couldn't run away from the QZ, you couldn't report it, you would die. You would have to kill him, because it was the only solution. FEDRA soldiers die every single day. They wouldn't give importance to one more. Right?
Your feet made their way home automatically, practically running, while your mind rambling about the murder you planned. When a squeeze in your arm pulled you into an alley, lifting you off the ground, making you stumble on your own feet.
Your eyes snapmed with fear. It was Maxwell.
"Let me go" you knocked, uselessly, on the arm that pulled you. It was as if you were staping a wall, he didn't even seem to feel it. "Leave me alone"
"Your little shit" he murmured words over his shoulder, as he dragged you into the dark alley.
"Stay way from me"
He pushed you to a wall, damp, behind some containers of garbage and rubble.
His arm over your neck, leaving you breathless. His eyes looked like a hungry animal ready to devour his prey. While his hands slid harshly through your body, lifting your blouse.
"Let me go, you disgusting" you tried to push him, hyperventilating.
Would it be like that? Would you be raped here, in this place?
"You're a little beauty, I bet you must be all wet for me"
In a sudden movement, he turned you with your back to him, pushing your head on the wall, holding one of your arms against your back. You got dizzy, feeling the point that hit the throbbing wall on your forehead.
You were so disgusted, so scared, that your body disconnected from you, and you couldn’t order your brain to coordinate your movements to fight Maxwell, it was as if you were totally empty of strength. Incapable.
“That’s right, don’t fight, I don’t like to have a lot of work when you fight, but if you want, it will be more interesting...”
Maxwell squeezed your ass, before pressing his body on you.
"Stop, please," you murmured.
"Hey!" A deep voice echoed in the alley.
Maxwell, he moved away from you a little.
"Go away, man, I won't share this with anyone," he licked your ear.
You whimpered.
"Let her go" the voice was closer, you couldn't identify in the dark.
“I'm going to finish it quickly, man, you can keep her later, you'd better get out of here before you find problems"
"I told you to let her go" the man pushed Maxwell's shoulder.
He let you go.
Soon after, you heard the sound of a punch. You tried to concentrate, turning your body to see what was happening.
Maxwell was on the ground, trying to get up.
"Okay, man, you can get her first then"
Before Maxwell got up, the man kicked his stomach, keeping him on the floor, going over Maxwell, throwing several punches in his face.
The man raised Maxwell off the ground, holding his vest.
"Yeah, you piece a shit, I'm get her, but first I'll make sure you never look at her again"
He gave it one last punch. Releasing Maxwell's soft body on the floor.
He turned to you. Growling. Blood-red hands.
It was Joel. The smuggler you met last night.
Your eyes were snapping, you didn't know what to do, your whole body was shaking, you were hyperventilating. With your hands on your knee, trying to support your soft body.
Joel walked to you slowly with his hands trembling up.
"Are you okay?"
You got up, crossing your arms around your body. Looking at the disfigured soldier fallen on the ground, behind you.
Joel shook his head.
"Don't look at him, look at me"
Your eyes obeyed as if it were automatic. Joel's expression had changed drastically from a beast to a worried and cautious man.
He reached out his hand gently to touch your chin, turning your head to the side to look at you.
"Maybe you need stitches" the low and calm tone.
You frowned.
In the midst of all this chaos, you didn't even feel the hot blood running down your face.
Your hands went against the throbbing point on your head, pressing your fingers there, feeling the wet and viscous texture, bringing it to the front of your face to examine. Blood. A lot of blood.
"I can't..." you murmured, looking down, and back, as if you were looking for people who might be watching you "I can't go to the medical center, they'll want to know what happened, they'll know..."
Joel frowned, highlighting that expression mark that falls right in the middle of his eyebrows.
"You're losing a lot of blood" he said, without ever letting go of your face, his eyes examining you, his free hand reached a scarf in his jeans pocket, pressing the fabric on your wound.
Your hand grabbed his wrist, pulling the air through your teeth.
"We need to get out of here" Joel looked back quickly towards Maxwell's unconscious body, turning his eyes to you "I can take care of it, if you want, you won't be safe in your house, anyway"
It took you a while, feeling the small pressures he made with the fabric in your wound. But you nodded to him.
"Hold it like this, for me" he directed his hand to hold the handkerchief pressed on your forehead "can you walk?"
He walked away from you looking at you, looking for some more injury.
You nodded.
He wore the usual frown, one of his hands pressing the middle of your back, as he walked next to you.
Usually walking the streets was normal, no one wanted to look at your face. Today, on the other hand, there wasn't a person who didn't look at you. Joel, in turn, shot with his eyes every single person who took the look at you for more than 5 seconds, causing some to even cross the street.
You accompanied him to - where you assumed you were - to his house. He supported your elbows, helping you climb the stairs.
The apartment was not much different from everyone at QZ. But his was more disorganized. A small radio station - illegal inside the QZ - on the table, maps scattered on the sofá wear out. Empty glasses on the coffee table. Some windows blocked with wood. A layer of dust on all the furniture and especially on the floor. A yellow light was what made the environment a little more cozy, perhaps.
He pulled a chair for you to sit down.
Joel moved quickly through the small space, reaching from one of the cabinets, a first aid box - probably also the result of something illegal - pulling a chair in front of you.
***
Joel was not going to deny that he already imagined you here, in this apartment with him, but he never imagined you here in a situation like this.
Seeing your face bathed in blood was something that made his body boil. Your perfect face, now it would be forever marked by a scar, to remind you of that horrible day you are going through.
If only he could keep you by his side, he could guarantee that no one would ever touch you again.
***
"Have you ever taken stitches?" He asked, while taking some materials out of the first aid box. His voice was something comforting.
You shook your head, still holding the handkerchief over the wound on your forehead. Everything was happening so fast.
He separated a needle, thread and a whiskey on the table.
His hand reached yours, carefully moving the handkerchief from your forehead. The contrasting movement with the touch of his rough fingers, and the calloused hand.
"Let me see” he murmured, approaching your face, studying the wound.
You looked down.
"Okay, teach..."
"Don't call me that" you cut him off.
He walked away from you a little, to look at you.
Your eyes found his.
"Sorry" you looked down again "it's that..."
"All right, I got it" he pulled the chair closer to you, the inside of his legs touched your knees, he held your chin again "it's going to hurt, a lot, I have nothing to anesthetize, so I need you to be strong" He stared at you "do exactly what I say, can you do that?"
You nodded.
"Talk to me, I need you to talk to me, sweetheart"
You swallowed it dry. Looking at him.
"Yes"
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I can do that"
He nodded to you, reaching for a glass, and serving a shot of whiskey, and delivering it to you.
"Drink it"
You obeyed, turning the shot. The liquid coming down hot, burning in your stomach.
He threw some of the same whiskey on another piece of fabric, looking at you.
"Ready?"
"Yes, I am"
He pressed the wet tissue with whiskey on the wound. The burning seemed to run all over your face. You frowned. Squeezing your fingers on your leg.
He took a pocket knife out of one of his jeans pockets, and gave it to you.
You held it. Doing things automatically.
"Now, I need you to talk to me, okay? Stay awake. If you are going to delete it, tell me first"
"Ok"
"Good" he reached the line and the needle "bites it" he raised your hand that held the pocket knife.
It was wrapped in a leather holster, made especially for the pocket knife. You frowned. Joel bowed his head with disapproval.
You put the holster between your teeth. Your breathing is getting a little faster.
“Three stitches, it’s what you need,” he said before getting closer, with a needle “ready”?
“Ready”
You don’t know how to say exactly what he was doing, but you felt the flesh being pierced, a colossal pain taking over your head. You stuck your teeth in the leather, with an afflicted growl, squeezing your fingers on the flesh of your leg. The eyes closing tight. It looked like you were going to explode.
"Don't move," he said with his face so close to you that you could feel his breathing on you.
You wanted to cry, scream. Tell him to stop, that it was all right if you ran out of a piece of your forehead. Just stop. It hurt too much. Tears were running from your face, but you couldn't tell if they were tears or sweat. Probably both.
"You're doing well, very well" he took a short break.
You felt his hands holding your left wrist.
"Give it to me" Joel brought your hand to his leg "I can handle it" he moved your other hand too.
You didn't even realize how much you were squeezing your own leg. But you received a slight relief.
Your breathing was trembling. He certainly continued, without warning, because once again the absurd pain of the flesh being pierced took over your senses. It was too much. You didn't spare Joel's leg, squeezing as much as you bit the pocket knife holster. Crying. Fighting against your own body so as not to move.
"Just one more" he said, "you're doing well"
There were no explanations or definitions for this moment. You simply had your whole body contracted, taken by the pain in such a way that nothing but the injury to your forehead existed in you. You couldn't even tell if you were breathing. The pain was so much that you could swear that your whole body was the wound. Your body started to tingle. Your senses were no longer responding.
You spit out the holster.
"Joel..."
You leaned on his leg.
"No, no, no..." he murmured "stay with me, you're doing well, stay with me, sweetheart, we're almost done"
You tried to focus on his voice. That beautiful and deep voice.
"You can do it, sweetheart, I know you can do it, just one more"
"Joel..."
Once again the pain radiated through your head.
You don't remember how, or when, it ended. But you woke up in a bed. Your head throbbing, your hands went up to press your eyes, in a useless hope of warding off that acute pain.
"Hey!" A whisper next to you, time you snap your eyes, jumping on an involuntary scare "calm down, easy, it's me, it's me" Joel's hands held your shoulders, gently.
Your eyes found his, tender and careful, you close your eyes and rest your head on the pillow again.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, releasing the grip on your shoulders.
"Pain"
He smiles.
"Yes, I know, here"
You open your eyes, he has two pills in the palm of his hand, extended in front of you. You frown, your eyes dance between the pills and his face.
"It's for pain, and to avoid infection. Take it"
You hesitate, but take it. Your fingers slipping the skin from the palm of his hand. You lean on your elbow, putting the pills in your mouth, Joel promptly gives you a glass of water.
There was a moment of silence, the day had not yet cleared up, it was night, probably at dawn. He didn't seem to have slept, sitting in a chair next to the bed.
"For what did you want the pills? That night?" He leans against the chair that was sitting, holding the empty glass you gave him back.
You look at him.
"Did you get it?"
He nods.
"Yeah"
You look away, staring at your impatient fingers that remove the cuticle chips from the corners of your nails.
"I don't have any cards here now for you..."
"What did you want them for?"
You look at him, swallowing it dry, hesitant.
"I..." you look away "I was going..."
You close your eyes, laying your head on the pillow again, shaking your head.
"Tell me" Joel leans in the chair, placing his arms on his knees.
You look at him for a moment, but you couldn't say that by looking at him. Your fingers press your eyes again.
"I was going to use them with him. I would dope him, and then kill him"
You take a while to open your eyes, after Joel's silence, you get curious, to know how he is looking at you now.
Joel didn't seem surprised by your idea, it didn't even seem to judge you. He seemed worried.
"Why? Is he bothering you?"
You nodded.
"How?" Joel clenched his fists.
You frowned. You grabbed your hands close to your face, and shrunk your legs. How if you shrink your body, as much as you could, would make you disappear, and next to you all this shame you felt.
"Tell me" he murmured softly, encouraging you.
"You don't have to bother..."
"I want to"
Joel extended his arm, so that his hands could move away a lock of hair that was on your face. So soft. So careful.
"Maxwell came transferred from some other QZ" you started "an acquaintance who works with me at school, introduced him and another friend, who is now her boyfriend" you felt stupid telling this story "since then he has been calling me out, but I always invent something..." you hesitated, holding your knees close to your chest "one day he cornered me in the classroom, there was a girl... a student who saw, I was afraid of him trying to do something with her, and since then he has been blackmailing me, and..."
You closed your eyes, shook your head, trying to move away from your mind.
"And?" Joel encouraged, he put one of his hands on your calf, trying to comfort you.
"He has been taking a good part of my cards, and I knew that would not be enough, that at some point this would happen... and I wanted to be prepared"
Joel nodded, his eyes fixed on you, the crease between his eyebrows deepened.
***
It didn't get into his head like another man could find himself entitled to attack you. Chase you.
He needed to have a lot of self-control to be able to hear your story until the end, without getting up from that chair and going directly to this Maxwell and hitting a bullet right in the middle of his eyes.
But no, dying is something easy. It ends easy. Living is difficult. And Joel would make sure that the last minutes of this man's life were the worst of his life.
You were right to think about killing him. Maxwell wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted. And he wanted you. In all its innocence and fragility. Now, after Joel broke his face, he would certainly take revenge, hitting you, which was the easiest target, because, obviously, he was cowardly enough to blame you instead of solving things with Joel.
Joel wouldn't let you submit to this dirty work to win your peace again.
***
You sat down, Joel walked away a little giving you space. Your fingers pressed your face, while you got up, slowly.
"Where are you going?" Joel was right behind you.
You turned to him. Much taller than you.
"I need to go, I have classes to teach, and they can't be suspicious..."
He took a step in front of you, packing your face with one hand, while analyzing the bandage he had made.
"How are you going to explain that?"
His hot hand was so comforting, you fought against the urge to rest your head on his hand.
You shrugged.
"I fell"
He sighed. Deep.
"Thank you, for..." you pointed a finger at your head "I'm going to pay for the medicines and also..."
"If I were to charge you, you would have already paid"
You arched your eyebrows, and nodded to him.
Your morning passed with you having to explain how clumsy you were and ended up hitting your head when you slipped into your own apartment.
"It was him, wasn't it?" Ellie asked after class.
"No... I fell"
Ellie shook her head in disapproval.
"You need to report this son of a bitch"
"Ellie, I fell, okay? Everything is fine. And don't use this language in my classroom"
Ellie was disappointed in you, you knew.
"Pay attention to lesson number 2 when you go to do the activity, I'll see you next week" you said before she left the room.
You spent the day worried about the possibility of someone entering your classroom, to take you stuck or disappear with you after what happened yesterday.
To your surprise Denise entered your room near the end of the day. The eyes snaps, the face taken by a panic.
"Did you hear about it?" She asked as soon as she closed the door behind her.
You weren't good with lies. But you tried to set up your best face by surprise.
"No, what?"
She stopped in front of your desk.
"Maxwell" she said a little tired.
You arched your eyebrows. Okay, you knew, he was probably disfigured after last night's punches.
Denise frowned.
"What happened to you?" She pointed at your forehead.
You shook your head.
"I fell..."
She nodded, processing the information.
"Okay, then get ready" she said leaning over your table "Maxwell was found today in the late afternoon"
You arched your eyebrows.
"Dead" she concluded.
Now you didn't have to pretend surprise, because you were really surprised, the beating he took was serious, but not to the point of him dying.
"And there's more..." Denise continued.
You could feel the blood from your face being drained to anywhere other than your body.
"He was found with his cock cut off, and inside his own mouth"
You leaned against your chair. Your hands covering your mouth. Your eyes lost in nothing.
"Do they already know who did that?”
Would it be possible? Joel, would you have been able to do that? Did he do that?
"FEDRA is investigating, they won't leave it aside, kill a soldier like this?!"
“Maybe it could have been a firefly thing”
"No... Jared" - her boyfriend - "said this was premeditated, it was someone who really wanted Maxwell dead"
You were silent.
"Don't you know anything?" Denise was speculating.
You looked at Denise.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, you were always together..."
"What?" Were you surprised by her assumption "together? We never even want to go out..."
"What did you want with that smuggler that night?"
You got up, gathering your things quickly, putting everything you could glimpse being important inside the bag.
"Sorry, I have to go" you murmured as you left the room.
"Wait!" Denise shouted "Jesus..."
You ran to your house, for no apparent reason, you just ran. Ignoring your throbbing head with every impact his feet made on the ground. You just wanted to be at home, in silence, to be able to process all things. If Denise, was wanting to link Maxwell's death to you - rightly so - what would FEDRA do?
As soon as you entered your apartment, you can't help but drag the shelf to the door. Even if Maxwell was dead. Supposedly.
You took a long shower, trying to wash away this whole crazy story. You wore a comfortable outfit. He made some tea. Trying to ignore the fact that his head was in latent flames.
Someone knocked on your door. Would it be Denise? She used to come without warning. Would it be Maxwell? Resurrected from the dead? Coming to torment you? The stunned soul coming to charge you for your murderous thoughts? Would it be FEDRA, to arrest you?
"It's me. Joel"
You stood still for a while. Looking at the closet in front of your door.
Until your brain remembers how to order the movements, and your legs move slowly, taking a break for you to leave your cup on the kitchen table, before dragging the cabinet from the door, and unlocking the braids from the door.
You opened the door. Joel was leaning on the side of the door. You faced each other for a moment.
"Can I come in?" He asked.
You blinked a few times. Opening the door more for him.
He came in, looking at the closet that he certainly heard you drag before you opened the door to him.
"You need to take another dose of the pills I gave you this morning" he watched your apartment "and you need to change the bandage"
You nodded to him.
He pointed to your chair, pulling one for him.
You sat down. Joel sat in front of you. You took your eyes on him today. He was a handsome man. The slightly gray hair, the eyes although almost always hard, were now attentive and careful.
He took off your bandage.
"You need to always keep it clean," he said, "it won't infect, it's good," he made an observation to himself.
He redid your bandage.
He took two pills from the pocket of his shirt.
"Take it, it's for pain and infections"
You took it, drinking immediately, with tea that was in your cup. Praying that the effect would be quick, and the pain would pass.
"Thank you," you murmured "for… everything"
He nodded. Looking at you.
"Why are you doing this?" You asked.
"Doing what?"
"Helping me... you defended me from Maxwell, then took me to your house, took care of my wound... why? These things don't seem to be things you usually do out there..."
Joel tilted his head to the side.
"What do I look like I'm doing over there?"
You smiled, looking away.
"I don't know” you shrugged “I thought you were someone bad, aggressive, I didn't expect to receive your help, in fact, you are very kind..."
"Only with you"
You look at each other for another moment, the silence hovering over you. You wanted to thank him, do something for him... You got up, going to one of your drawers, and removing a number of cards.
Joel shook his head before you even got to him.
"Take it, please..." you held it for him.
"I don't want to"
"Please, I don't know how to thank you"
He got up. Holding your hands together with your cards. His big hands, covering up yours. You observe the injuries of his hands. Your eyes meet his. Comfortably in silence. Joel looked at you deeply.
You expected him to say something, but contrary to that, he let go of your hand, kindly, walking towards the door.
"Joel?"
He turned to you.
"Yes"
"They found Maxwell's body this afternoon"
He nodded.
"FEDRA is investigating the cause of death"
He was silent.
You took a step towards him.
"Joel?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Was it you?" You looked at him carefully, you didn't want him to feel judged.
"Are you afraid of me?"
Joel seemed to feel pain when saying these words.
You walked to him, held his injured hands.
"No... I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of them"
Joel held your chin, smiled.
"Had the wound clean" he advises.
You nodded.
He turned around to leave. Stopping before, next to your closet.
"Sweetheart, you don't need it anymore," he pointed to the closet, "you're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you. I'll take care of you"
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the-tmnt-ficfinder · 3 months ago
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What are some of your personal favorite fics? Whether they're on the list already or no!
Oh gosh, I've read a lot of really wonderful fanfics!! For me personally, my favorite fanfics are always the ones that have elicited a strong response out of myself. I'll go ahead and list a few that I've really enjoyed! Note, they aren't in any particular order of favoritism. I like them all!! If they're already in my list, the link supplied is the one leading to the appraised version listed on my Fanfic List Masterpost! If its not in my list, then I simply supplied the direct link to the fic on Ao3 ^^ I hope you give some of these a try!! I wholeheartedly recommend them all!!
When I Was Younger by @sketchiefoxie & @inkypawprint (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: It’s a month after the invasion, and the Mad Dogs believe they’ve left the worst behind themselves. Though their whole world is shook when none other than their future selves, not Casey’s future versions, but themselves come back to the past. Something big is coming; something involving the Krang and the Foot clan, and it isn’t good.
The Lemonade Leak by @turtleinsoup (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: "Leo can not sleep, because there is a thing in Donnie's lab, pretending to be his twin. Or: It turns out that being created as a biological super soldier comes with a few... modifications. Some of those, more dangerous than others."
firefight by @remedyturtles (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: Donnie collided with Leo in a tangle of limbs. There was an instinctive cling in return from his twin, before the realization sunk in. "No." Leo breathed in his ear, immediately shattered. "No, no, no, no, no!” Every muscle in Donnie's body was shaking like an earthquake from the amount of effort he'd just expended. The explosion caught up to them, sending the twins spiralling away into space and debris. For one singular moment, Donnie allowed himself a burst of victory. His heart was still thudding a thousand miles an hour in his chest, having been absolutely terrified he wasn't going to make it in time. But he did. And he held onto Leo, his prize. Then they hit the ground, the sudden tumble bursting them apart. Donnie felt the world spin, rapid and disorientating, before he slammed into something rock and cracking under his impact. or: donnie doesn’t let leo go to hell alone
My Life, Their Story by @azucar-skull (Rottmnt Fanfic) (You'll) Get Through It (MLTS Part 1) Summary: After saving the world from the Kraang, (Leo included), Mikey suffers from severe nerve damage in his arms. This disability takes over his entire life, causing a lot of chaos. Right Now Is Real (MLTS Part 2) Summary: Raph grew up with nightmare disorder, something that he was born with that gradually got worse over time due to PTSD, especially after the Kraang incident. This leads to Raph becoming a danger to himself and others as everyone tries to help him seek out help. The Show Must Go On (MLTS Part 3) Summary: Leo deals with severe depression and PTSD after the events of the movie as he strives to be a better brother. Freak Of Nature (MLTS Part 4) Summary: After Donnie thought he lost everything, he ended up losing even more. Including his mind. Or; Donnie has a gun--
Down With The Stockholm by @devotedtosadpoetry (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: Leonardo is captured and experimented on until he is turned exactly into what they want him to be. Some things cannot be undone. Meanwhile, mutants and yokai are in hiding, fearful of this powerful entity.
Revelations Timeline AU by @idk-im-just-here-now (Rottmnt Fanfic) Song of a Sunny Day (fading into dusk) Part 1 Summary: It's been a month after the Kraang invasion. The lair has been filled with nothing but the sounds of a heart monitor and quiet. It's too quiet for Mikey, so he goes on a solo run of the city. He finds a violin case on the ground and decides to take it home. After all, what could go wrong with learning an instrument? As it turns out, quite a lot. Memories of a Tyrant (locked in a prison) Part 2 Summary: After the events of the Kraang invasion, Donnie has thrown himself fully back into his work. This time though, he has a new companion, who keeps reminding him of events too close to be called the past and slithering through his head... The Ghosts That Wander (and the monsters who follow) Part 3 Summary: Being in a coma is not fun, but somehow, neither is not being in a coma. As Leo finally comes to after the invasion, things around the Lair look very different - and not in any kind of way that Leo likes. The Call Of A Parasite (hunting the hivemind) Part 4 Summary: Its been one week since the invasion, and everything is still in a near critical state. Overwhelmed by it all, and the fear of becoming a monster once more, Raph takes to the ruined streets of New York But barely a week has passed, meaning open ground is still crawling with the remnants of the Kraang. And Raph begins to learn.
Adagio in Green: Panacea by @boxfullaturtles (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: They stopped the apocalypse, but it's left them in bad shape. Leo's shell is in pieces. Mikey won't wake up. Donnie can hardly move. Raph's barely holding himself together. They're going to need all the help they can get to survive in the wake of the invasion. It’s a good thing they’re not alone. --------- A post-movie story about processing grief and trauma, and how the road to recovery isn't always a straight line.
So, I guess... we all have issues by SpectrumWriting on Ao3 (TMNT 2012 Fanfic) Summary: Mikey wasn't insane. He knew he wasn't. He really did have three brothers and a father, no matter what his paperwork said. Also, none of his family was human, and neither was he. That was the truth about him, no matter what anyone else thought. (Sticking by that truth got him thrown into an asylum. What a surprise.) **Winner of FIRST PLACE in the Universal TMNT Mature Fanfic Competition 2016 for MOST COMPELLING AU, and winner of SECOND PLACE for MOST SPOT ON PORTRAYAL OF MICHELANGELO.**
Thank you for the ask!! I really enjoyed answering this one, and I hope you enjoy some of the fics I listed!! Any of them that aren't in my list, will be added eventually. Have a wonderful day! ^^
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thegeminisage · 6 days ago
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UGGGHHH ok its star trek update time, Special Deep Space Nine Finale Edition
did not love the finale. mostly this comes down to two things 1. pacing bad 2. everybody's ending sucked
pacing problem: the pah wraiths came in at the last second, AFTER the big space battle was all done. it really feels like they should have been directly involved with the battle somehow, like that time sisko vaporized all those spaceships. also, speaking of that, wasn't not getting to rest on bajor his trade for making that happen? yet it didn't get brought up at ALL. ok. more on that later. anyway, the pah wraith thing seemed like a fucking afterthought, which was crazy considering we had winn and dukat scheming and plotting for all those episodes. one would expect the pah wraiths to be like. actually let out. to Do Something. to be scary. we have been building up to this! and yet. nothing happened. a lot of other plots were also wrapped up way too quickly - ezri's romance with julian, miles leaving, etc - but that's more a problem with the endings being bad - they did not have time to build up to what they decided on, or maybe they did and just chose not to utilize it wisely
endings - going thru this character by character
SISKO: this is of course is the very worst offender. avery brooks spent 7 years putting blood sweat and tears into a positive portrayal of a black father only to be contractually obligated to act out a deadbeat dad plot in the 11th hour? man, no wonder he was pissed. there was also no explanation of WHY he had to live in the wormhole, it was just more mysterious wormhole alien stuff. if it's punishment or a trade for what he did before, why not remind us? and i definitely get why avery brooks wanted them to do this rather than him just not ever coming back at all, but it's such a copout to be like "and then he has more adventures" when we can't conceptualize of what those adventures might be, and doubly so when there was no sure bet of having a ds9 movie later, bc they didn't get to have one!!! overall the entire wormhole alien plot in s7 got REALLY weird to me, with a tone shift + lack of explanations about literally anything, and wrapping up sisko's fate in their lore fell short because of that reason too. preferred ending for sisko would have been for him to die during the big battle, then come back right as everyone got overrun by pah-wraiths to save them. if he HAD to go into the wormhole, could his family had come with him? if he had to sacrifice something to win the battle, could it have been a future on bajor specifically, or connection with the prophets? idk, amnesia or something? his sight, like dukat? it was just a bad ending.
JAKE & KASIDY: putting them together because what the hell lol. the final shot of jake looking out the window while kira comforted him might as well have been ripped from the visitor...genuinely it's disappointing they enver found anything cool to do with jake, because i feel like there are a lot of good stories you could wring out of "journalist who covers the war and comes of age at the same time." i could almost see him teaming up with bashir to root out section 31 or something like that. as for kasidy, i've said this before, but it's so unfair to both her and sisko that she was basically invented to be his perfect woman and never got a personality of her own, and DOUBLY unfair to knock her up in the penultimate episode just to drag cheap tearjerker shit out of sisko's ending, which was bad. it's the same thing as having jadzia discuss a baby right before they kill HER. what is wrong with these guys??? plus, we didn't even a discussion of what they'll do now. wait for sisko on ds9? go to earth and live with grandpa sisko? remain together so jake can help with his new sibling? jake didn't even get to say goodbye to his dad. we got a scene with KASIDY, who, love and light, has even less personality/stuff going on than jake did.
O'BRIEN: this was the only ending (besides worf's) i actually liked/understood, though i feel like it didn't get nearly enough screentime. war's over, o'brien has served long enough, it's time for him to go back to the safety of utopia with his family. i like his plot about not being able to tell julian goodbye, it reminded me of the mash movie, but i wish they hadn't wrapped it up in the MIDDLE of a battle scene. like, what??
JULIAN & EZRI: i absolutely HATE that ezri became julian's replacement miles. i almost understand why they got together because when i tried to conceptualize my ideal ending for ezri it was ??? because i don't know enough about her passions and desires. where does ezri dax believe she can do the most good? where does she want to spend her life? with whom? obviously i'm into ezri/quark and ezri/worf, and i would have been fine with her staying with either of them, but with julian? and he just...stays on ds9? i was so sure julian was gonna dedicate himself to taking down section 31 or fighting for the rights of genetically enhanced people. him fighting section 31 would have been a great ending because he could have said something like "i'll ring you up for advice as often as i can" to garak or something. just...hanging out on ds9 is boring if everybody else is gonna leave.
WORF: also mostly acceptable, though i still think he should have been chancellor. i guess then he can't just randomly show up in tng movies lol.
GARAK & DAMAR: it's such a fucking copout to kill damar. that speech garak gave, where he talked about the rich history of cardassia being reduced to ashes? where he talked about how some people would say cardassia deserved it for what they did to bajor and other worlds just like it? that should have been damar's speech. kira's "yeah damar what kind of people give those orders" was setting him up as someone who goes through what the bajoran people did and learn empathy from it. dukat could have never done it because he cares about himself first, but damar actually has principles. furthermore, giving garak the speech doesn't make any sense because for all the crimes garak has committed, they were ON CARDASSIA. he wasn't out doing the colonizing. he's done crimes but not those crimes. it makes no sense for him to have to live with them. GARAK'S moment was when he realized mila was dead and his house was about to be leveled and you can never actually go home. THAT was his moment, and it was incredible. he didn't need that double beat. i think a better idea for garak is to have him decide he doesn't want to be on cardassia anymore (kind of like klinger deciding he's not going back to america after all) and joining bashir in taking down section 31. not even just for shippy reasons, though there's that too, but i think he'd insist julian would need someone like him around, and he would be right. meanwhile damar leads cardassia, and he and kira being kinda-friends now means that they leave bajor alone and become allies in the future
KIRA AND ODO: what the fuck girl...ok, you know who needed the "i'll be back" ending? odo. "maybe tomorrow, maybe next year, but i'll be back" should have been odo's ending. i get him leaving. i even agree with him leaving. he's got to cure his people or he wouldn't be odo. and he deserves to spend a little time in the great link like he's always wanted to do. but part of what makes odo so compelling is that even though he loves his people, he condemns what they do, and he has come to love his found family more. if odo rejoins his people permanently to keep them on a leash then he's just another changeling. odo who every day chooses to be with and love people who are so fundamentally different from him is what's compelling. it's what makes his and kira's relationship so beautiful. as for kira, nothing could be lamer than her quiet no-rage acceptance of odo breaking her heart and giving her no goals or ambitions outside of that. i think she should have tried to work towards bajor joining the federation in sisko's absence, since that was his goal in the pilot. like maybe not NOW, but something to work for in the future.
DUKAT & WINN: so i was really hoping winn would push dukat into the fire, and it's very sad that she did not do that. i also have mixed feelings about her mini-redemption, since it was ultimately useless. if anything, winn should have thrown herself in with dukat to spare the emissary, like IF you were gonna redeem her. let's fuck the devil but for like ever. in hell. on the other hand, i would have preferred if she unceremoniously had dukat killed and then got possessed and became the final boss. i think an unceremonious death for dukat is kind of fitting because he wants to be important. if not unceremonious, at least something where he fucked around and FINALLY found out, you know?
NOG: he didn't? get?? an ending?? i think that final vic's scene should have been with nog instead of quark, because they were such good friends. they could worry about...
QUARK: while his goodbye to odo was PERFECT, i kind of wish there had been some emphasis on him being one of the few people to stay behind. in an ideal world, it's just him and nog and kira, and vic too i guess. even his brother is going back to ferenginar! he has no one to take care of or snipe at! i liked his final scene with kira, but i would have liked to lean a little more into it. if quark/ezri, he wouldn't mind being left behind because she'd be there with him, but if not, his talk about making everyone happy but himself includes creating a space for them to come back to. and since he can't have this chat with vic, he could have it with...
MORN: come on. ONE line of dialogue! it would have been so funny.
overall it still wasn't the worst thing i've ever watched. there were some positives. it was well acted. i was very fond of everyone. even though "the way you look tonight" went on a little long for me it did give me an emotion. i liked the flashbacks even though i missed jadzia (o'brien's and julian's was really gay). but jesus christ, what a mess!!
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Colonel's orders!
Summary: Quaritch contends with his crush on Lyle's partner. Especially now its 15 years later and he's well a whole lot bluer.
Gn!reader x Quaritch, Gn!reader x lyle
Warnings, Swearing, everyone's very sad at the start here,
Chapter 1, 2
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Chapter 3
There was only one thing worse than this. Only one thing worse than waking in the enemies skin. Worse than being torn back to this god forsaken planet. Worse than facing his human lives failures, worse than being stuck under someone else thumb. No all that he could accept.
The worst thing was Y/n was gone. It had been almost 15 years since he'd 'died' and he didn't even really know what happened to you. Did you go back to Earth with the rest of the humans? Were you stuck somewhere in the smog trying to carve out a life for yourself? Did you move on find someone else after Lyle's death? He could hardly bear thinking of the alternative. That you'd been involved in the fight. That you hadn't made it to the next day.
Lyle for his part seemed equally as sullen. He'd spent days scouring through reports, trying to find you. When he couldn't? He broke. Dragging his feet to meetings and picking at his meals, living on auto pilot. Miles could empathize, drifting from task to task, following his orders.
The sour mood extended down the ranks. There was little joking or laughter. No pranks pulled or play fighting. Well at least none whilst Lyle or himself were around. Zdog had began nudging and trying to talk but Lyle ignored her until she too fell silent.
He'd only barely been aware of your presence amongst the squad while human. You tended to only be around in his absence or rather when the squad wasn't actively working. You must have formed stronger bonds with them then. Otherwise Zdog and Mansk's moods wouldn't feel so familiar.
They'd landed in bridgehead city with little fanfare. The human soldiers barely acknowledged him, accept to sneer. It would seem the people on base were even less receptive to their na'vi forms than those in the craft had been. The more personable of his team seemed very displeased by this.
Miles for his part was willing to accept the isolation. All the people he really gave two shits about were here with him now, well almost all. Lyle however seemed to sink deeper, if that was even possible and in turn so did the rest of the team.
Ardmore still seemed happy to see them, if just for their utility. Sending them out on missions with her own men, or instead of her men. This seemed to be half the cause for the tension around base. The human soldiers did not appreciate being replaced.
Miles found himself spending most of his time with Lyle. He'd been the closest thing to a friend he'd had before. In your absence he'd began to feel a little guilty about how he'd behaved around him. It seemed their shared mourning brought them closer now. Hell it brought him closer to the rest of the squad. He was no longer just the big boss, he was a friend.
After a long night of drinking with the team, Lyle and him had ended up alone. The rest of their friends lay passed out on chairs around them. Mansk some how sleeping across a half played pool game with Fike, who slept slumped over the back of the sofa.
He'd admitted then that he'd had a thing for you. In the quiet hours of the early morning, half asleep as he mumbled. He spoke of how taken he'd been with you, that he'd been rather jealous of your relationship with Lyle. He even told him about the almost kiss at the end of his stolen date.
Lyle sat patiently listening to him ramble. When Miles finished he sat waiting for the strike, for anger that didn't come. Lyle put his hand on Miles tense shoulder, gripping him tightly before his face scrunched and Miles was pulled into a bear hug.
Miles was stunned, he expected rage. Fists flying, tables flipped, hell even him just storming off. He didn't know what to do with this, remaining frozen.
When Lyle could speak through the sobs he'd admitted he'd known. That Miles hadn't been subtle at all, that it was honestly a miracle that you'd never noticed. Lyle even laughed a little when he said that, a sound Miles hadn't realized till then he'd missed so dearly.
"Did the team know?" Miles finally spoke, Lyle's hand resting atop his own.
"Yeah... well maybe not Mansk but he's kinda slow with this stuff." Lyle squeezed his knuckles. Miles felt his face burn. At this point he couldn't tell if it was embarrassment, alcohol or something else.
The teams spirits seemed lifted after that. Though they still dragged their feet there was an air of solidarity again. Even laughter whilst he and Lyle were present. General sentiment seemed to be that even with the circumstances the way they were, they were at least together.
Ardmore waltzed into their barracks late one evening. The small area where the recoms were housed, where the air was suited to them. The ceilings, beds, showers were all made to accommodate their larger bodies but only just. She strode right up to Miles while he worked on the gym equipment, Lyle spotting him standing to attention.
"Need you placed down at unit 2, having some trouble with them and could use some..." She paused looking him up and down, as Miles sat up. "Larger reinforcement."
"Yes mam." He saluted as she turned heal and walked out. It was taking some getting used to being subordinate. Ardmore had the run of the place so he shouldn't feel so bothered by her interruption. A few of his squad perked up, falling in to find out what was happening.
A second unit? He frowned at this new information. He hadn't been aware of another human settlement. The outposts were plentiful but they weren't referred to as units.
He scowled, pulling himself up and over to his abandoned data pad. Best to set off as soon as he could. The team were itching to do something, disliking the idol time in their current mood. He felt the same, keeping busy was the best he could do to keep his mind off of you.
The next morning they set off. He elected to take Lyle, Zdog, Mansk and Fike. They'd been the most persistently morose and would benefit from the change of scenery. He was right, all had eagerly climbed onboard and were now surveying the canopy as they flew past. Even Lyle seemed to have perked up, grinning over at him.
Miles still had little clue what they were getting into. The reports he'd dug up had been so heavily censored that they'd become unintelligible. Best he could tell there was some amount of genetic research being done there. The heavy use of technical terms slid off him but he was certain of one thing. They'd been experimenting with na'vi and human DNA.
Perhaps that's what Ardmore had been referring too. That some of these experiments had resulted in subjects that were hard to control. Hybrid avatars? Maybe recoms? Or hell maybe just clones. No use speculating further, they had arrived and all would be explained shortly.
A red faced scientist came sprinting out to meet them before they'd even fully landed. Grasping Miles hand for a quick shake before hurriedly urging them to follow inside. He barely caught what the man was saying over the helicopter.
Something about familiar faces and calming them down? Miles felt more confused than before, until he rounded the corner. There just beyond the two way glass you were.
It was shocking to see. The room was torn to shreds, remnants of bedding and furniture scattered to all corners but the details were lost in his tunnel vision. You flung yourself against walls screaming, hissing. Your na'vi body bloodied, medical gown torn. You wailed at the mirror before throwing yourself against it.
Miles didn't even think, just moved to the door separating you both and walked in. You jumped, pivoting to him with a wild expression. He couldn't help the emotions that overcame him. He could've cried with joy seeing you there, alive and well bluer. Your tail thrashed behind your crouched body. Miles only just heard the others at the door when you pounced.
It was easy to counter, you'd never had the training he'd endured. Miles caught you mid air, holding you aloft by your underarms as you hissed, clawed and snapped at him. He held firm as you thrashed around, flailing in mid air, the hissing turning to wailing. It broke his heart, what the hell had they done to you? He turned to look at the mirror, staring down whoever still watched behind it.
He was about ready to storm off, start threatening the staff here when you stilled. Looking back from them, you'd settled and now just hung there. Your head cocked, tear filled honey eyes staring back into his. Your nose wrinkled, the cute expression he'd thought he'd never see again. The same little face you made when something was puzzling you.
Then to his horror your face scrunched further, tears falling as you opened your mouth to cry further. Pointed fangs were visible now, longer than any of his teams. He half expected your reaching hands to be clawed but dull finger tips dug into his arms, reaching to pull him closer.
He relented, tugging you into himself. Your arms wrapping around his torso, face burying into the crook of his neck, muffling your cries. The others now crowed round him moving closer to to see you. He felt a pang of something in his gut. A sudden desire to tuck you away from them. Miles ignored it, instead focusing on Lyle's face.
He'd missed his reaction at first though it must have been similar to his own. Now Lyle was just smiling, grinning so wide his lips might burst. He was crying too, silent tears making their way down his cheeks. He reached out, Miles staying ridged to let him. His fingers brushed against your hair, though the gut feeling to hide you didn't flare up at this.
Your head flung up, tail mirroring the motion before suddenly twisting to see him. It took a moment but Miles saw the recognition hit you and loosened his grip. He was right to, the second later you were leaping to Lyle. He in turned caught you, spinning and laughing as you clung to him, legs wrapped around his middle.
Miles bit his cheek, trying very hard to maintain the smile he'd held before. Zdog, Fike and Mansk stood by him, clearly ecstatic at the turn of events. Miles ears flicked and he turned to the scientist entering the room.
Your mood suddenly shifted, hissing as you half climbed Lyle. Perching almost entirely on his shoulder and arm, keeping your teeth bared. Miles quirked a brow at the scientist, awaiting an explanation for everything.
In the end they'd insisted they talk in the mess hall, allowing you room to scowl at a distance as he spoke to him. You'd been apprehensive to allow anyone to be near the man. Diving in front of Miles to snap at the guy when his hand had dipped into his pocket. Only avoiding getting bit because Miles' had grabbed you round the middle. Holding you back by your hips as you swiped at the man. Who in turn trembled so badly he could barely use the key card he'd reached for.
The scientist had explained that first. You'd had to be sedated more than once already and been more aggressive since then. Most recently seriously injuring four men who'd tried to subdue you.
The descriptions of your behavior were hard to accept. Miles had only ever known you as sweet, your anger barely raised your voice never mind your fist. Though your bloodied limbs proved the story, none of it was yours.
He continued his explanation. Unit 2 was an experimental branch of the Phoenix Project sanctioned by Ardmore. They were trying to see if a different mix of human to na'vi DNA yielded stronger soldiers. You'd been one of the first they'd authorized to be implanted with memories. Although they'd done less to settle you than they'd have liked.
They'd decided it would be best to house you with Unit 1, Deja Blu, as your familiarity with them should make you more amenable to their tests.
"Tests?" Quaritch felt his face tighten. The scientist flinching at his response.
"It's nothing major. Reflexes, spacial awareness, nothing invasive! Just trying to ascertain the risk/reward of their DNA mix." He stumbled over his words, babbling out the response. He was still sweating and nervously glancing over to you. Miles relaxed into his seat, humming an affirmative.
The scientist broke out in a smile, thanking him and trying to shake his hand again. Miles kept his tucked in his armpits and the man swallowed hard.
"Well uh good. I'll let you settle in." He scampered off, giving you a wide berth. Miles watched you, your whole body leaning out to follow him, before settling back against Lyle. It was rather amusing watching him fumble at the door, unwilling to break eye contact.
Miles hid his smirk as the group moved over to him. Better not to encourage you. Lyle took the seat to his right, before you jumped up to nestle between them both. You seemed far more relaxed now, leaning to rest against Lyle as he smiled over you to Miles.
He'd need to find a time to explain the situation to the others but for now he was more concerned about you.
"How you holdin' up?" He watched as your big eyes focused on him, ears and tail flicking to attention.
"Uh things are weird." You smiled back. He felt his heart catch in his throat hearing your voice again. "I uh... well...I can't think right, I keep getting confused and I get so angry or like territorial or something. It's just so nice to see you all again." You smiled again, keeping your eyes on his and placing a hand on his arm. Miles felt warmth spread across his chest.
"We're staying for a while, right boss?" Lyle chirped up. Miles flicked his attention over to his, nodding.
"Ardmore wants us here for a good while yeah." Lyle grinned him before turning to you. He dropped his face against your shoulder nuzzeling into you. You laughed, hand leaving Miles to come up to hold his head, rubbing down to his queue.
"Hey! You have hair now!" The group burst into a laugh, Miles couldn't help but join in with.
It was odd. As the day went on and Miles didn't feel those pangs of jealousy he'd been so used to before. Absence really had only made his heart from fonder. He couldn't take his eyes off you, scared this was some dream and you might just disappear. Every tiny touch sent electric through him and you were far more tactile now.
You seemed to need to be touching someone at all times. Plastering yourself to Lyle or himself most of the time. Though Zdog and Fike were often targets of your affections, gripping their arms or hands as they tried to prepare an approximation of the barracks.
Mansk ducked and hid best he could but even he didn't escape for long. Something in his apprehension set you off and Miles watched as you hid high on the lockers. Your tail whipping from side to side as your pupils dilated. He passed to help Zdog shift a bench when you pounced down on him. Miles barked a laugh at Mansk's squeal with the rest of the team. Mansk finally returning your hug to sate you.
You returned to Lyle and himself grinning ear to twitching ear. Miles felt an uncertainty in his gut. He was ecstatic to see you, to touch you again but Lyle knew about his feelings now. Was that going to change things? Lyle hadn't shot him any looks when you held onto him.
Did he just trust you both? Miles wasn't sure he trusted himself, while the jealous knot was gone the desire remained. Every moment growing in intensity, one word from you and he'd ruin everything.
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empressxmachina · 25 days ago
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"Innocent Guilt" by me | (Also on DA)
Fam. Y'all. Chat. Dawg. I shouldn't have gone here and gotten this far because my focus has been cooked because of it. But I've been led down a lovely path of some top-tier playthroughs, dubs, parodies, stage plays, musicals, and the cursed world of the fan works from Objection.lol and elsewhere, including the few from this hyper-specific corner of the internet that I know exist. 😉
So, what's this visual about? Well, the law is already complex with corruption and general crime, and what better societal conflict to emphasize the drama of it all than size differences!?
(A bunch of context and the stock references are under the cut.)
Prior World building:
Let's just say that... after some time of the smaller souls slowly climbing the societal ranks to fully equal/equitable rights, respect, and treatment, someone somewhere said, "Fuck that," and all the small souls are suddenly dehumanized if not eradicated for being inferior.
Phoenix, while actually having a solid circle of peers, disappears, with said circle fearing the worst of him. He, at his lowest, somehow ends up by Miles, who takes him in.
I do think that shifting sizes is possible in this tale, but I didn't apply that for these two.
Of course, it's not all calm, and them learning about and dealing with each other, their pasts, present desires, and future outlooks is puzzling. It's a game of debates and mysteries; we love Discourse™.
I'm intrigued by a system where the smaller folks can be "protected" by being bound under some tall soul's "ownership," like a pet, with Miles considering convincing Phoenix to apply for it under him for his safety and Phoenix denying it every time... until he may have to or feign it, such as...
What I had in mind with this scene itself:
Miles insisted on Phoenix's expertise and views being useful for a case as part of an investigation. Phoenix is (physically) brought in his classic suit to remind others of his once-renowned history and skill. Yet, despite him being truly useful as Miles imagined he'd be, he's not taken seriously by anyone else. Perhaps the defense attorney got in a literal mess, needing to be bathed away in this moment, and here's they are in his regal mansion, discussing all that occurred in that tumultuous day, all going on a roller coaster of feels:
the case as a whole (with an updated case/autopsy report, of course),
what society deems fair and false,
past mistakes made,
the shared disappointment of and the later reassuring each other of their mutual value,
etc.
It could also be a scenario ending in the same vein but starting with Phoenix going off on his own for some time, fighting hubris to remind himself that he's a person, just to come back distraught and be brought back to a harsh reality.
Obviously, a bitty bathtub couldn't be provided, despite Miles' big bank account, because in this broken society, that would publicly imply that Miles has a pet petite person, and anything bad that could be point to Phoenix, regarding his whereabouts or social status, is, well, bad for all involved!
Nor did he already have one because he wasn't very social enough to invite all sorts of people, let alone anyone, over until recently.
Do they and the powers of friendship and love win in the end for redeemed rights? Find out on the next episode of the Steel Samurai! Imagine what you want, but I like a happy ending!
All of this aside, while I know this could've been made better (especially with shadows because I just can't be bothered), I'm proud of myself for getting this far!
Though, I will say, I don't think I'd ever be pleased with Miles' hair bangs/fringe. The original media have quality character design and are a lewk, but, likely due to his form being cropped, I couldn't angle or visualize the best angle for the hair bits. I hope that they were at least recognizable enough to detect that he was him, disregarding the hard carrying the classic suit and the jabot/cravat do.
The same goes for Phoenix, his suit, and his Sonic the Hedgehog hair, but that came out more rationally to me. particularly the latter if he's implied to be washing it.
How about these "unnecessary... feelings?"
Sketchbook Pro
vignette
"Whisky on a Glass Cup" - Photo by cottonbro studio from Pexels
"Coffee cup" - Photo by lifeforstock on Freepik
"A Shirtless Man Looking at a Bathroom Mirror" - Photo by Eren Li on Pexels
"Person Sitting on Window Sill While Holding Wine Glass" - Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels
"man, ..., moody, ..., emo" - Photo on PxHere
"Red necktie with blurred background" - Photo by and on Freepik
"suit, hanging, jacket, covering, garment, clothing, fashion, retro, urban, brick" - Photo by Marko Milivojevic on Pixnio
"Gold and White Chandelier Near Gray Curtains" - Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels
"texture, pattern, red, pink, cloth, ..." - Photo on PxHere
"Round Golden Badge" - Photo by tasper on Openclipart
"Kraft Paper A4/C4 size String and Black Washer Envelope Mockup on light grey background. High resolution." - Photo by PrimeMockup on Adobe Stock
Circa October 2024... Yes, really. Happy Unnecessary Feelings Day! (That wasn't planned, but sometimes things work out.)
It's fresh because I had to tell somebody about this ASAP, or I'd crash out, thus I moved it up the queue. I'm not the only one who sees the vision, right? This vision is surely one to be vast and expanded, right!?
You don't have to tell me that I should just write a story. Yes, I should, but I can barely commit to anything that isn't a one-off. A girl is busy.
If you know my history, this is likely going to become a collection for which I'm going to need some pun name. (Or, I could just call this "Ace Attorney Fanaticism" like with my X-Files trilogy, but that's boring.)
Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Ace Attorney, and related characters/themes © CAPCOM.
There's a bit of me that wanted to give this picture some "Turnabout" title, but I can't think of a good one. Do y'all have any ideas?
Where is AA7, for crying out loud!?
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bbygirl-aemond · 2 years ago
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every day i wake up and have a bone to pick with Viserys
Him ignoring the whole realm that was acting like it's soccer match day with two rival teams that are known ultras/hooligans.
For gods sake the whole court was color coded and divided 😭😭
And the way he showed his best side to the blacks and the worst to the greens pisses me off
And before that the way he mistreat daemon and Rhaenyra before
him rehiring otto hightower,he was begging for treason at this point
he just ignores problems and hopes they go away
this actually brings me to a point i've been wanting to make for a while: viserys failed rhaenyra nearly as much as he failed his other children.
when she was a child, he essentially ignored her. it's clear from the show that they were not very close at the time that aemma died. of course, aemma's death fractured their relationship even further. how are you supposed to feel about your father when you know that he forced your mother to die in unbearable agony and fear?
it wasn't until viserys made rhaenyra his heir that i think their father-daughter relationship became better. even then, i think viserys did this more out of guilt about aemma than genuine love for rhaenyra. in my mind, aemma was the only person viserys ever really loved, and everything he does in the show is out of guilt for her death.
anyways, then viserys married rhaenyra's best friend, who was like 14-15 at the time, and subjected her to repeated marital rape and clearly unwanted pregnancies. genuinely blows my mind that people seem to ignore how YOUNG alicent was. the power dynamics and age differences make it impossible for her to have "seduced" him the way a good number of people seem to think she did.
this throws another wrench in rhaenyra and viserys's relationship, and one that i think never fully healed; just as rhaenyra and alicent's friendship never fully healed. viserys is the one who took that away from her; he has deprived rhaenyra of the two most important women in her life, one after another.
now we get to the political side of things. viserys straight up failed rhaenyra in every possible way, here. he should have involved her in the politics of king's landing, and allowed her more of a voice on the small council. her actions to rescue baelon's egg from daemon proved that she would have risen to the challenge. he should have educated her further, and given her more advice, about how to be a ruler, and prepared her to one day become queen.
he should have advised her, for example, to never have visible bastards because of how severely it would weaken her claim. and even if she did, he should have stopped her from fleeing to dragonstone, thereby abandoning any effort to form and maintain political alliances with the lords and ladies of westeros.
and, lastly and most importantly, he should have abdicated the throne before he was a literal corpse. i know this isn't necessarily westerosi tradition, but as king he would have easily had the power to do so, and his illness would have also given him a legitimate reason for wanting to withdraw from his duties. it would have been incredibly helpful, for the first, formative years of rhaenyra's reign as queen, to have the previous king so strongly supporting her.
but viserys did none of this. and so, when he died, rhaenyra was miles away, all but a stranger to the court and to the nobility of westeros, and shunned by them because they did not want to eventually place a bastard on the iron throne (rip jacaerys you would've actually been a good king). he could not have created better conditions for the greens to usurp her if he had tried.
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lpsgirl109 · 3 months ago
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this post is sponsored by @theravequeen /j
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Im sure we're all of the collective opinion that the catalyst for Phin snapping and fully turning on Miles is incredibly dumb. She beats him to a pulp and stops listening to him because. Rhino was kinda mean and said Rick's death was her fault and that made her mad. Like not only is that childish on both her and Rhino's ends, Phin is absolutely smart enough to know Rick's death wasn't her fault and Rhino is talking bullshit. Like the only way I can see that making sense is if Phin at 15 years old constructed an entire plan to break into Roxxon and destroy the nuform, and Rick, a full grown adult, decided this was brilliant (though I guess he still allowed her to get involved, or convinced her to get involved. We don't know. Insomniac doesn't care about these characters). And even IF that happened, how the hell would Krieger ever find that out? Much less tell this random guy in a rhinoceros suit all about it. It makes no sense and further throws off the intention of making Phin a sympathetic and understandable person when she's beating the shit out of her friend just cause some guy she doesn't know said something mean
In my rewrite, this scene gets switched out for an Underground member getting killed, with Krieger having something to do with it. I'm sure anyone who's familiar with my Phin Mason info dumps should already be somewhat aware of my restructuring of the Underground - instead of a pre-existing criminal organization, they're a bunch of people who've all been affected by Roxxon and came together to take them down. They're a closely knit family who care about each other deeply, so for Krieger to cause the death of one of their own with no care about it is not only enough of a reason to snap for Phin, but for the entire group. The Underground fully enables her to go through with destroying Roxxon by any means necessary, which isn't to take any blame off of Phin, more just to humanize her. She's not ignoring Miles because she's being willingly stubborn, she's listening to what her family wants, and what they want is to avenger their friend and take down Krieger before his actions hurt anybody else. This also makes it so that her unwillingness to believe Miles when he finally tells her about Harlem being destroyed is less her thinking he's a horrible liar who she can never trust, but more thinking that any information from Krieger can't be trusted. She did the research, she has every reason to believe blowing up the reactor will only take out the plaza. Why should she believe something that Miles got from the guy who's killed multiple people and is willing to kill more just so he can keep making money? For all she knows, Miles received false info, and the explosion won't actually be that bad
But anyway that's a lot of words to say Rhino scene bad Phin's conflict going into the finale should be more with Krieger, guy who she has every right to be beefing with, than Miles, guy who at worst hid a secret from her
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masked-disciple · 1 year ago
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Honestly the more I think about IS-7, the more utterly pathetic Dane Gustavia is to me.
There were three contestants in this competition. The competition that existed solely because Jeff wanted the Angel's Recipe off his hands but given to someone he deemed worthy by his measure, not his parents' or their company.
In the great bakeoff, there was one guy who was actually a chef. Not even a pastry chef (although Gustavia was a pasty chef), but straight up the only chef at all. Dover was a sculptor, Scones was a pharmacist.
Yeah, yeah, Dover and Gustavia collaborated. But Scones was about to be disqualified anyway, because she demonstrated just how much she wasn't actually a chef by fucking up the cream so badly. It was down to Dover and Gustavia, their partnership would've had to end regardless of how they handled it.
Gustavia killed Dover because he was being actively blackmailed and backstabbed, and also all of Dover's insults. Not an unreasonable move if murder's on the table already. But he literally never had to resort to murder. He brought a nuke to a knife fight.
If Gustavia had acted like a normal person for five minutes, he would have ran off and immediately told Jeff everything: the partnership, his taste disorder, Dover blackmailing him, Dover being Hoquet. And you know what Jeff would've done?
"Shit, I have a very similar disorder I'm in the process of curing. And I too want to make life good for my child, who I cannot currently give good sweets to because I can't taste half the stuff I'm cooking. You're the only actual chef here, and you've just proved your honesty over the other two. Here's the win, now come with me to the pharmaceutical lab and let's fix both of our taste disorders and make some Good Sweets! :D"
Like. I don't know why he went straight for murder. Jeff would have forgiven him - he wouldn't really have had a choice, he really wanted to get rid of the Recipe - and he would have won the bakeoff by default.
But no. That's too easy. So instead Gustavia did a murder, destroyed the lives of everyone involved, got Gregory killed, sentenced his own kid alongside Knightley and Miles to be incredibly badly traumatized, got who knows how many innocent people sentenced and/or executed by giving Miles to von Karma, and also almost kicked off a civil war in Zheng Fa.
Zero-out-of-fuckin-ten, Gustavia. Congrats, dude. That's the worst anyone's ever done it.
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goddamnwebcomics · 2 months ago
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I have an article idea: [Blank] number of times a character's personality, trait, or role changed in a webcomic you've read. You know, like when an author decides to either remove a character trait only to replace it with a different one usually depending on how it will benefit a current or future story down the line? Kind of like Tracy from Peter & Company or every character in Las Lindas. I see it a lot and its egregiousness varies comic to comic.
That sounds like a really good idea. Here are the
Top 8 Worst Sudden Character Changes In Webcomics I've Riffed
8. Miles goes from an abused underdog to a womanizing asshole (Las Lindas)
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Some longtime readers of Las Lindas may have completely forgotten that at some point, Miles was actually kind of likable. Mainly because he was often the victim of Mora's abuse, despite being a hard worker. Then he quit, met Taffy, and convinced Mora to hire Taffy for the farm as his only demand for coming back.
Unfortunately, as soon as Sarah and Rachel debuted, we saw Miles change into a terrible person who gropes Taffy and whips his dick out in public place. Eventually it led to a breaking point where Miles and Taffy broke up during the Festival Arc. But did Miles become a better person? Of course not! He would SOMEHOW charm Rachel after his stupid plane building arc started (which is another Sudden Character Change) and he would slowly but surely make Rachel into an asshole as well. I just think it might be Mora's influence getting to people.
7. Cydnee goes from Matt's supportive girlfriend to a Massive Racist (Gene Catlow)
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Yeah, be prepared to see this become a theme, where characters start expressing overly specific bigotry out of nowhere.
When we first learn of Cydnee, she is actually against Matt along with the rest of Felin Family, but slowly, she becomes comfortable with Matt, effectively becoming more loyal version of Dawn and Dusk. We also learn her backstory, turns out she was always a matagot, which Jeremy was able to detect. Jeremy forced her to suppress those powers and make her into a hypnotic dancer for the group. However, after Jeremy left, Matt noticed Cydnee's matagot powers and started training her.
Now by no means was Cydnee and Matt's relationship dancing with roses. Cydnee seemed arrogant and Matt even considered pushing Cydnee to the endless void, but eventually, after Matt shared his goal of a cat dominated planet, Cydnee agreed to it wholeheartedly and they were able to find common ground.
And then ANOTHER hitch was thrown in their romantic works when it turned out Cydnee was a MASSIVE racist towards dogs. Starting with him making snide and abusive remarks at Dorzoi, which eventually escalated to her wanting Death to All Dogs. Matt, being the charming gentleman and true hero of this comic, was completely opposed to this, and Cydnee eventually messed up one of their missions because of her dogophobia.
Now, an argument could be made that this was foreshadowed earlier with Cydnee's father telling her cats are ultimate species in the universe in a flashback, but this was just confirming something that was kinda true in this comic's universe. Also apparently Cydnee was just always against dogs according to Burke's flashback??? The problem is that Dorzoi was working for Matt and co even before Cydnee got involved and it wasn't until halfway through their relationship that Cydnee started making jabs at Dorzoi which escalated into the full blown dog racism. It feels like such a forced attempt to force more conflict between Matt and Cydnee, and also bring yet ANOTHER bigot that would probably have been cheaply redeemed into the comic.
6. Tracy goes from Peter's enemy to forgiving him (twice) (Peter and Company/Peter and Whitney)
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This one would not have been so bad, if it didn't happen twice in different comics. Yes, in Peter and Company, Tracy is established as Peter's new rival after Chelsea's humanization, an extremely competitive essay writer who forces Peter to do all the work. However, Tracy steals all the credit from Peter but both of them get an F- because of Seth's bullshit. This carries into Peter and Whitney, which is going on at the same as Peter and Company, where we learn Peter and Tracy's beef lasted years and they had several "incidents" between eachother.
Now, let's address the elephant in the room, Tracy is based on Johnny Bonaqua's wife's best friend, but she shares virtually no traits with her aside from the name, rest of her character came from two specific incidents in his past. However, after fans got overly hostile towards Tracy, Johnny decides to retcon Tracy into a nice person in BOTH COMICS AT THE SAME TIME. So, the incidents between her and Peter never happened in Peter and Company timeline then?
This could have been easily avoidable, either don't base Tracy on your wife's best friend, or maybe don't write sequel to your comic at the same time as your other comic. Admittedly, Asshole Tracy is still a more interesting character than Nice Tracy, and her turning good removing the last shreds of intrigue from Peter and Whitney.
5. Victor Reid goes from supportive father to a Massive Racist to Lexx's second dad and back and forth (Alien Dice)
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Of all the Sudden Bigotries, this one is probably the most nonsensical. Until this point, we've known Victor as a very protective father who works for FBI and an alien research facility. He had a bad run in with Riley which ended with Victor understandably hating him and forbidding his daughter from getting involved with him. Later, Victor ends up going and meeting Lexx. It is at this moment, Victor's hatred of Lexx comes out of nowhere.
Okay, the reason it's so nonsensical is, Victor works with aliens and his family has been hunting aliens for a millennia. The fact he is suddenly racist against them goes against his entire profession. It's like a racist choosing to become a psychologist. After this, Victor turns into a cartoony alien hunter who doesn't want his daughter to go anywhere near Lexx and he eagerly can't wait to "dissect" Lexx in a laboratory. Even when you consider the fact Victor's organization not only studies aliens but also protects cryptids who already live in Earth, it makes Victor's hatred of Lexx more nonsensical. I feel you could've made Victor into a father who doesn't trust Lexx and doesn't want him to be dating his daughter WITHOUT making him into a racist.
But that's not all, because Victor abandons his alien racism almost immediately after he sees Lexx hurt. Suddenly, he becomes Lexx's second dad who is concerned for him and he frequently critiques his friends for not giving a fuck about him (something he is very right about) but he still acts like a cartoonish alien hunter. I get that it's trying to portray Victor as a nuanced figure but it is so damn inconsistent, and it admittedly leaves a pretty big stain on him as without that, he could have been one of the comic's best characters. Also, funny enough, Victor's alien racism is rendered even more pointless when we learn his wife is the opposite, as soon as she sees Lexx and Chel together she begins to fantasize about human-rishan crossbreeding. Jesus.
4. Mecha Maid in general (Spinnerette)
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Marilyn AKA Mecha Maid is one giant bag of self-contradiction. At least Spinny's personality is consistently written as "colossal idiot who fucks up". Mecha Maid's personality has been altered so many times, I don't think Mecha Maid who debuted in the first issue and Mecha Maid from the recent issue are the same person. In the original era of Spinnerette, Mecha Maid has a crush on Heather, but she still calls Heather out on her idiocy. She loves Heather because she wants someone to be affectionate with her before her ALS kills her. She also develops an opposition to murder, as she gets angry at Heather after she helps killing Colonel Glass.
Colonel Glass arc really is the last time she retains her original personality, after that she gets flayed out of shape. She becomes more horny, admitting she fell in love with Heather because of her body rather than her personality. She also stops getting angry at Heather when she fucks up. She often ends up in situations where she can't defend herself and it's up to Spinny to save the day. And less said about how her ALS seems to have magically disappeared, the better. The worst part of this change in personality comes in the moment pictured above, when she confesses Sarah Nicole should have been killed just like Colonel Glass, abandoning her anti-murder stance entirely.
One might wonder how much canonized porn comics have to do with these changes, but honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the ALS was written off completely because of those. This more than anything proves what a colossal hack Kraw is.
3. Stealth goes from Lexx's conscience to petty little shit who hates everyone (Alien Dice)
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Yup, Alien Dice again. Stealth started off as someone who would often talk sense to both Lexx and Chel. Her only problem until that point was giving Chel the relay, which she apparently did only to give Lexx companionship. As soon as Lexx learned this he sealed Stealth inside a dice, claiming her to be a "troublemaker". This doesn't really describe Stealth back then, but it definitely describes Stealth that would become. As soon as Stealth transforms into her white puma form and later her disgusting human hair winged lion form, she became ANGRY towards her own status as a dice, and ANGRY towards Sirius for wanting to be obedient towards Lexx, and ANGRY at Zeta and Epsy for wanting children when she went through a miscarriage because of her dice complications, and ANGRY at Chel for calling her by a name Lexx came up with as opposed to Mittens. She just wanted freedom, this could have been established earlier but apparently with her wanting freedom, she ends up doing terrible things like mauling Sirius, destroying all of Claudia's dresses and becoming a sleep paralysis demon.
She does end up having her personality be toned down in later part of the comic, slowly turning back into Lexx's consciousness, but also, she becomes a victim of this comic's desire to give every animal a partner as she hooks up with Dash, he's not your type trust me.
2. Gene Catlow's "Redemption Arcs" (Gene Catlow)
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Yes I know, the whole point of redemption arc is that it's supposed to be a meaningful change. But the reason it's called a "redemption arc" is because it doesn't happen in an instant. Well, nobody told that to Albert Temple.
Don't get me wrong, there are actual good or at least predictable redemption arcs in this comic, but these examples are egregious and the worst thing they happen at the beginning, middle and end of the comic so Albert never quite learned to not do this.
Starting with Crendall, Crandall was an abusive furry hating human, who lost his son to a brain cancer-induced suicide. He then tries to do something horrible to Gene and Catwhis, but as soon as he enters the bar. Everyone tells him stupid he is for believing all animals are evil, and then he is like "okay you got me, I am good now". And Crendall then proceeds to become an even worse human being than he already was, because of how he treats Figgs and Chalky, the two human beings he was working with who are also his dead son's friends, and also because he ends up developing a creepy friendship with Diane the little girl later down the line. As terrible as Crandall's redemption was, it could be pinpointed as the moment this comic began the transformation from its old hope punk roots into the World of Friends Power Hour it would become.
And to have another example of speedrunning a redemption arc, look no further than Clayton. Clayton being a bunny who helps the Felin Family was treated as a huge shock twist, but literally one page after we see his face, he instantly gets redeemed because he runs into Michelle and the Old Bunnies. We learn the reason he betrayed Canovians is because he lost faith in their leaders ability to make change. So the first thing he does when he comes back is he becomes the "Chosen One" of the Canovians and completely steals the spotlight from Cotton. Admittedly we never see Cotton and Clayton's rivalry come to fruition which would have been a nice form of conflict, but whatever. Also Clayton develops a creepy friendship with Michelle.
And lastly, we have an opposite of our usual changes, a bigot stops being a bigot...and how. Mason was the brutal and violent leader of Furry Unity Group, a furry supremacist group who wants to kill all humans. Mason is shown at first to be one of the few characters in this comic that are actually irredeemable. However that all changes once his puppet duplicate gets his consciousness transferred to the body of a small baby bull. Then he gets kissed and hugged by him and two baby bunnies who replaced Michelle. And as soon as that happens he begins doubting his racism and wondering WHY DID THEY FEEL SORRY FOR HIM???
This is by far the worst of these "redemption arcs". It is never shown that Mason is looking for a smaller clone of himself to kiss him...I mean someone to feel sorry for him. Until this point, he was an irredeemable racist who was not going to change no matter what. It is genuinely most insulting out of all these redemption instants, because of the insulting implications it carries.
And now it's time for Number One, which, if you've read this blog for a while, is completely obvious.
1. Siegfried goes from a honorable knight to a Massive Racist and a Hell Nazi (Dominic Deegan)
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Yay! I get to bitch about this moment again!
Siggy until this point was genuinely shown to be a knight who was opposed to the corruption of his fellow knights. However, it all changed for meta reasons. After Mookie learned a lot of people (it was probably just one person) were rooting for Luna to die during War in Hell Arc, Mookie made it that not only would Siggy die, he would also go out while exposing all his crimes. Turns out Siggy's honor was all an attempt to fuck Lady Jayden, and on top of that, he also fucking HATES ORCS. In fact, he is the ULTIMATE ORC HATER. AND HIS ENTIRE FAMILY WERE A GROUP OF BLOODY ORC HUNTERS, AND SIGGY HUNG AN ENTIRE FAMILY OF ORCS WHEN HE WAS 16, FOREVER MAKING HIS DESTINY TO BECOME AN ABSOLUTE PIECE OF SHIT AND EVENTUALLY AFTER HE DIES KARNAK TURNS HIM INTO A HELL NAZI BECAUSE HE IS THAT IRREDEEMABLE.
The existence of Reinhardt later down the lines proves Mookie was willing to have sympathetic knights in the cast. I genuinely feel this wasn't planned until Mookie saw one comment that wanted Luna to die. That whole comment drove Mookie mad so he made Siggy the most irredeemable human being who ever existed.
Look, if this comic had any hints of Siggy having a hidden dark side to him, I would have picked up on them. It's worse than a sudden character change for no reason, it's a sudden character change with a spiteful and petty reason, that could have been avoided if only Mookie was more mature when he was writing this comic. And ultimately, Siggy's transformation served no real purpose to the comic aside from two arcs addressing people's reactions to it, and Karnak hating his job.
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chaosandcrimson · 21 days ago
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no way is that CINDER GLASS.. they're a 28-year-old SYNTH notoriously known for being FRACTURED & IMMODEST but there are some people who have seen them being NIMBLE & OBSERVANT. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of a wardrobe of black catsuits, dropping down from the skylight into a room full of valuables, and having no concept of your own identity, but that could just be because they're considered the KARMIC THIEF around town. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through..
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Knew I was a robber first time that he saw me Stealing hearts and running off and never saying sorry But if I'm a thief, then he can join the heist And we'll move to an island
OVERVIEW
Name: Cinder Glass
FKA: Savannah Georgia Parker
Nickname(s): Cindy (only by Wes)
DOB: December 7, 2096
Age: 28
FC: Imogen Poots
Height: 5'4"
Pronouns: She/Her
Sexuality: Bisexual
Occupation: Thief
Relationship Status: Single (Closed)
[+] artful, nimble, observant [–] aggressive, immodest, fractured
BIOGRAPHY
tw: parental control, emotional abuse, medical abuse, death
Savannah Parker was created in the middle of a whirlwind romance between her mother Portia and a handsome man of means. He was convinced that it was love, but what he didn't know was that Portia was an accomplished con artist, and she had specifically targeted him to give her what she really wanted—a perfect accomplice that she could tailor to her liking.
Shortly after they picked her up, Portia vanished into the night with their synth daughter and was never heard from again. A highly controlling and self-involved woman, she never really came to care for Savannah as a person, seeing her as a means to an end at best, and as her property at worst.
At first, she was little more than a prop in her mother's cons and her only job was to be there and look cute; but as she grew older, Portia began writing bigger and bigger roles for her. However, rather than teach her how to lie as convincingly as she did, she simply took Savannah to get reprogrammed with a different identity—implanted memories and all—whenever they started a new scheme.
As if repeatedly rewriting her life story and personality wasn't enough, Portia also controlled every aspect of her daughter's day-to-day life. She decided what she wore, what she ate, where she went, and whom she befriended. When Savannah reached her teens, the only thing that changed was that her mother shifted from picking her playdates to picking her actual dates, or in other words, her marks. All the while, she simply nodded along and did what she was told.
She was in her early 20s when the frequent mind wipes and reprogramming started catching up with her. Her different identities started bleeding into each other, memories that had supposedly been erased started resurfacing, and she began acting erratically as she struggled with distinguishing what was real and what wasn't. Portia's solution to her daughter's episodes was to take her in for another reprogramming, but obviously, that only made things worse.
It was during one such episode that Savannah lashed out at her mother and ended up pushing her from a hotel balcony, resulting in Portia's death. When she came to, she was in a broken down car a few miles outside of Dallas-Fort Worth. Her memories were still scrambled, but she was able to put together the gist of what had been done to her, and what had become of her mother.
After hitchhiking into the city, she settled in the lower district and started going by the name Cinder. She had never learned how to lie, but there was one skillset Portia had allowed her to hone through every version of herself, and that was the abilities of a cat burglar. She made a decent living for herself stealing from the rich and giving to herself, choosing to exclusively target those who she felt deserved it, and who already had enough to spare.
It was a few years later that a chance encounter led her to share her life story with Taurus. At that point, the Violet Messengers had been active for about two years, and while she had never seen herself as a revolutionary, he managed to convince her that there was a way to use her abilities for the greater good.
Nowadays, she steals for a living as well as to help fund the Violet Messengers activities. She does not herself participate much in violence, but she is aware of their methods, and she agrees in principle that sometimes force is necessary.
She can come across as strange and standoffish due to never being socialised properly. She has a tendency to take things literally, and struggles with what is and is not socially acceptable in public; for example, she will often get changed out in the open, because she does not care if people see her naked.
Cinder has a big soft spot for people whose experiences she can empathise with because of what she went through. She will immediately become very protective of anyone with overbearing and controlling parents as well as people who for various reasons struggle with their sense of self and identity.
MISC
Her thief's toolkit consists of a variety of contraptions that she has made herself. Among them is a harness with a customised attachment that she can hook onto almost any surface and suspend herself from.
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pleucas · 1 month ago
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this is said with no malice towards you i love your art!! i like you!!
also not capitalizing chuuya's name even tho i have better humor than this
this is going to be loooong but i never read a more stupid ask….
i don’t hate skk bcs i use my brain and see that they’re actually good and a fun ship when someone isn’t ruining it. what i hate is most skkers being unfunny towards Dazai and the continuous mischaracterization of him just to make chuuya look better (mostly chuuya stans but also dumb Dazai stans are guilty of it)
and no Dazai isn’t the worst and chuuya doesn’t deserve better in fact i think yall can’t handle a person with mental illness and a fake persona he clearly put on people always demonize him so i think saying he’s the worst and chuuya isn’t proves my point. they both EQUALLY did the same bad things Dazai isn’t more toxic than chuuya it’s more like Dazai is the one who’s going back to a toxic ex (mind u chuuya was ready to hurt or maybe even kill some of the ada members people Dazai obviously cares for)
the skk hater? who loves chuuya and hate Dazai because they know chuuya’s character will never be as important or as impactful on bsd universe as Dazai’s noted.
if you love chuuya and hate Dazai your opinion about Dazai is immediately invalid like i think they just know no bsd character can be better written and more interesting than Dazai he's what keeping bsd good (and Fyodor i liked him in the last chapters even more)
imo if chuuya keeps appearing he'll just get boring🤷‍♀️ because most of his storyline is over
Dazai on the other hand always entertaining and deep and there’s a reason he’s involved in everything and never forget everything he did for chuuya stormbringer would be nothing without Dazai helping chuuya from the shadows and chuuya knows it but i guess people will still makes him the bad person in skk when he’s the one trying to change and be better person
also Dazai is someone who’s storyline is still on going as well as we know almost nothing about his past or what actually goes on in his brain i can say three things about his backstory and that’s it.
sorry for rumbling i can’t take that level of stupidity
pls don’t block me im not evil…..
holy shit we got cross-ask beef. this is insane
i'm gonna lowercase Both their names because i think this is the reasonable next step. LOL. & i'll also ramble a bit to match ur freak!
i will strive to clarify that me agreeing that dz=worst chuuya deserves better was, as i specified, "on a generalized scale" — on a very, very, VERY surface level this is a jokey way i've seen a lot of skkers talk about their relationship. more of an inside joke atp ig? idk. srry if that wasnt clear
but i do think it's valid to dislike a ship because you don't like one half of it. i totally get how dz's character can piss ppl off, esp if ure missing lns and mangas (which rimu wasn't, but they watched the anime first so the precedent was set). i found the first part of their thesis to be pretty funny actually, just (again) taking it at face-value.
it's also understandable that they try and dissect dz then miss the mark by a mile LOL. but again, can't be blamed if you hate the guy and thus don't read into him too much, which i think is a reasonable way to consume media... probably more reasonable than me. hence why i didn't respond with my own thesis paper. overall idk man it's not that deep, i've been having fun with rimu and i'd advise y'all to also be silly w/ ur Budgeted RPF Dead Author Yaoi, it'll make things a lot better
abt what you've said, i think dz and chuuya can't exist as true characters w/o each other, unless you fundamentally change their truth. a lot of their good & bad (& inbetween) sides are exposed through their relationship, which i believe is asgr's very interesting way of employing "show-don't-tell." i don't think chuuya's storyline is over, because dazai's isn't, and vice versa. this doesn't mean i don't think they have their own arcs, just that these arcs Must involve the other — if dz's main conflict is good/bad + the mafia, chuuya is his biggest amiable tie to it, and if chuuya's conflict is his self + power, dz must be there for corruption. there's more to say there, but again i don't want to feed rimu's claims of us all being dormant essayists LOL
we got dz glazer and rimu, D1 dz hater. and cheese anon.
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stars-over-new-jersey · 1 year ago
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I.
Michael Long had watched soulmate marks appear for his friends and classmates. For some, the mark appeared when they reached puberty, for others it came a bit later.
His arm remained resolutely bare, and he tried not to be disappointed about that. No more than one in five people received a soulmate mark, and his blank forearm was not unusual.
All the same, he couldn't help but feel a little pang of envy whenever he saw an arm marked with what would be the most special words of that person's life.
II.
By the time he had reached adulthood, the envy was mostly gone. Michael had grown up, and had a good career as a police officer. His line of work brought him into contact with all sorts of people, in every possible condition.
He'd come to know that having a soulmate mark and knowing the first words from your soulmate's mouth was no guarantee. In his line of work he'd witnessed the implosion of soulmate bonds from drugs, alcohol, abuse, jealousy, and murder.
And he'd found Stephanie Mason, who was all the proof he needed that soulmate marks weren't all they were cracked up to be. They'd been two months into planning the wedding when his arm began to itch, and a foggy mark began to appear.
Michael threw up the first time he noticed it beginning to form. Not now, he'd thought. I made my peace without you.
The mark refused to fade.
It also refused to take on coherent form.
Michael gathered his courage and showed Stevie, who, with characteristic good sense, pointed out that since it contained no words, it couldn't be a soulmate mark, and maybe he should see a doctor.
The dermatologist had been rather puzzled by the markings on Michael's arm. But since a biopsy had shown it wasn't cancer and it was obviously not a soulmate mark, he'd deemed it nothing to worry about, and had given Michael a tube of cream for the itching.
Michael and Stevie resumed their wedding plans.
III.
Six months later, Michael's arm began to itch again.
While he was in the middle of an undercover assignment, chasing down the perpetrators of a corporate espionage ring. His partner, Muntzy, had described everyone involved as 'a bed of snakes', and he wasn't wrong.
In other words, this demented rash had the worst possible timing.
Michael smeared more of the cream up his forearm and tried to focus on his mission. Everything pointed toward the spies making a move soon, especially since the chip designs were only secured by a hotel room safe in a busy casino.
Muntzy would be watching the room and the safe inside. Michael was going to be stuck down on the casino floor watching to catch the Chief of Security for Consolidated Chemical when he finally backstabbed his boss.
Michael rolled his sleeve down over his forearm and buttoned the cuff without looking.
Later, he would wonder what the mark on his arm had looked like that day.
IV.
Michael waited until Wilton Knight and his lackey Miles had left the room before pulling the sleeve back over his arm. They'd already changed his face and had Michael Long declared dead; had they removed his … not-soulmate-mark as well?
He wasn't sure what he'd hoped to find.
Part of him wanted to see a bare forearm, the pesky mystery mark gone with the rest of Michael Long.
Another part of him deeply and fiercely wanted it to remain unchanged; a tie back to his real life, a part of Michael Long that he could keep.
The mark had sharpened. No longer an indistinct smear, it had resolved into tiny circles and strokes, lots of them.
If it was actually a soulmate mark, it was the damn strangest one that he'd ever seen.
He pulled the sleeve back down, and made the decision to focus on recovering his strength so he could get out of this place and get back to his life.
If there was anything left of it.
V.
The days after he left the Knight estate in the care and company of an obnoxious talking supercar on a mission to take down the corporate spies who had destroyed his life were very much a blur in Michael's memory.
He'd been too focused on getting revenge for his 'death' and the loss of everything he'd loved to think about anything else. He had very deliberately put all thoughts of Stevie, his wedding, his pesky not-a-soulmate-mark, and everything else aside.
Michael Long was already dead.
What happened to Michael Knight in the course of bringing justice down on Michael Long's murderers didn't matter as long as that goal was achieved.
And then by some miracle, he'd survived.
No, not 'some miracle'. The miracle was a talking computer named KITT, in the body of an indestructible car.
A computer that had saved his life over and over again during those dark days.
A computer that had more humanity than many people Michael Long had known.
A computer that somehow had more forgiveness in his heart that Michael had any right to deserve after the way he'd treated KITT.
And in the end, Michael had been left alone, his mission accomplished, and a newly empty life unfolding before him. When Miles had offered him the chance to continue Wilton Knight's mission, he'd taken it. It gave him a new purpose, and something to fill that new life.
Something to distract him from the way the phantom pain of Michael Long's amputated life ached in the dark hours of the night.
VI.
Michael Knight had built up a new life, with new rhythms and its own unique cadence.
KITT worked together with him, the best partner he'd ever had; between his investigative skills and KITT's gadgets and lightning computations he could unravel cases faster and better than he ever had before.
He was fairly sure that the mark on his arm was binary, and he tried not to think too hard about what that might mean.
And then came the day he'd found the newspaper with Stevie's face on it, the headline blazing out her arrest.
His Stevie. Under arrest. For organized crime.
Every good instinct that he had screamed at him to let it go, that nothing good could come from getting involved.
But it was his Stevie. The one whose love had convinced him that he didn't care about not having a soulmate if she was there. As long as he drew breath, he couldn't let her be destroyed.
Michael and KITT protected her, and in the end, Stevie had known. How and why hadn't mattered. In her darkest hour, her love had returned from the grave itself and shielded her.
And then Michael had watched her leave. He'd known that the witness protection program was necessary.
He didn't have to like it.
He'd watched Stevie leave, and walked back to KITT, his partner, and left.
The mark on his arm was one more complication he didn't need, and he kept his forearm covered even from himself.
VII.
Waking up alone by the side of the road and having to hitchhike back had been bad. But he'd held onto the thought that surely, with all the computers and her technical wizardry, surely Bonnie would be able to find where KITT had been taken…
And then finding the empty house had been worse. There was no one, nothing, to be found to give him a clue about where his partner had been taken.
KITT was gone.
Michael tried to quell the panic that burned in his gut. He felt lost; without KITT, the yawning emptiness of Michael Knight's life threatened to swallow him up.
He hadn't even been thinking at all when he made his way to the garage; not consciously at least. Overwhelmed in the fog of loss and fear, he followed instinct to the pile of trash at the back of the abandoned garage.
The world only snapped back into focus when he pulled KITT's CPU out of the garbage and lifted it up. KITT's body might be gone, but he'd found his partner.
Michael had been too focused on the fact that he'd found KITT to notice the suspicious look on Devon's face or to think about the binary marks etched on his forearm.
VIII.
Michael Long was having a very, very bad day. In fact, he wasn't quite sure whose day it even was.
His head was pounding like a bass drum, he was fairly sure he had at least two broken ribs, and his arm ached like crazy.
Everything he remembered about his life had... disappeared. Right down to his face, as his reflection kept reminding him.
His apartment building was gone.
His co-workers were insisting he was dead.
Even the not-a-soulmate-mark on his arm looked wrong.
And now he was talking to a car, and somehow that felt familiar.
Even when he'd had his alleged life explained to him, nothing felt clearer; his memories were a mass of jumbled fragments.
The talking car… this KITT… was the only thing that felt familiar. Right.
He'd resisted at first, certain he was dreaming. Why on earth would there be a talking car, chasing after him and seeking his company?
But as soon as he'd accepted its…his… offer, Michael slipped effortlessly into a true partnership.
And then there'd been an unscrupulous artist to apprehend and rare alloys to secure, and Michael hadn't had time to think about any of it.
By the time things calmed down, the shattered pieces of Michael Knight's memory had started to fit themselves back together. He'd taken his vacation time and headed down to the beach with his partner.
Surrounded by women in bikinis and warm sun that baked the last aches out of his bones, he contentedly enjoyed Michael Knight's life and put the bad memories behind him.
IX.
Michael tried to tell himself that it was the fumes from the pit that were making his eyes burn and water.
He didn't have the luxury to examine those feelings. Not when Bonnie stood beside him, face drawn and gray as she stared at the sad wreck being winched out of the foul acidic glop of the pit.
Not when Byrock and his goons were standing around doing their best to look as threatening as possible. Byrock wasn't stupid. Even if he didn't have a clue what his goons had actually done, he knew that they had something important at the bottom of that sludge pit, and he was rubbing it in that he was allowing them to retrieve their property.
Michael clamped down on the simmering rage. Byrock could very well have forced them into a long legal battle to retrieve the car, and they weren't off his property yet. He couldn't afford to jepoardize KITT.
Even if they were only retrieving his corpse.
The technicians rinsed the mud away from the acid-etched metal remains of the chassis and began to load it up onto the bed of the truck. Michael called out to his partner, and received no response.
At Bonnie's request, they left the dump site. Michael could feel Byrock's eyes on the back of his neck all the way to the lab where KITT had been built.
Michael reluctantly left his partner in the hands of the scientists and programmers, trying to have faith that his partner would return. The not-soulmate-mark on his arm was the last thing on his mind as he walked away, and perhaps it was for the best that no one had noticed that the binary markings on Michael's arm had faded to a pale grey that day.
The nightmares came later.
X.
Red filled Michael's vision as he struck out at the man who had killed Stevie. Blow after blow landed, but the rage never abated.
He'd been so close. He'd retired. Stevie had agreed to marry him when he'd finally, finally asked again.
They'd just finished saying their vows…. and then before he could even process what had happened, she'd taken a bullet for him and died in his arms.
Michael didn't care whether he lived or died. He was back in the darkness where he'd first risen from the dead three years ago. As long as he could get vengeance for all he had lost, his life was irrelevant.
All that was left was the rage.
Then a voice cut through the fog and the loss, calling out for him to stop.
KITT's voice.
Michael dropped the man he'd been pummeling and stumbled over to KITT. They'd succeeded; Stevie's killers had been caught and would never kill again.
But Michael's life spread out in empty ruin before him.
Again.
The next hour or so was a blur for Michael; he slumped in KITT's driver's seat, mourning the final end of Michael Long's life and hopes. When he finally looked up, KITT was parked on the beach, looking out at the sea.
Michael wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, before looking down at KITT's voice modulator.
"I'm sorry pal," he said. "You've been there for me through this whole mess, and I… I haven't been a very good friend."
"You've been under a great deal of stress lately," KITT replied. "Your reactions are to be expected under the circumstances."
Michael swiped at his eyes again, and the cuff of his shirt rode up, exposing the ones and zeroes marking his forearm. He yanked the button free and pulled back the shirt, revealing the full extent of the mark on his arm that he normally tried not to look at.
That he hadn't wanted to look at, or even think too hard about.
Tears threatened to well up again in his eyes, but he blinked them back before holding his forearm up to KITT's interior cameras.
"KITT," his voice broke. "KITT, this looks like binary. Does it… mean anything?"
For a long moment, KITT's displays remained dark, and the only sound was the faint swish of his scanner and the ocean waves outside.
"That is an encoding of my normal scan pattern that I use to identify unknown people in my immediate vicinity," KITT replied. "An older version, actually."
Michael gripped his wrist tighter. "It wouldn't be the scan pattern that you used on me when Devon first showed you to me in the garage on the Knight estate, would it?"
"Yes, it matches the scan pattern that I was using at that time," KITT said, sounding confused. "Michael, I don't understand."
"KITT, that scan was your first greeting to me," Michael said with wonder in his voice, looking down at the mark on his arm. "In a sense, the first thing you said to me."
The lights of KITT's voice modulator lit up briefly as though he was about to speak, then went dark again for a long moment. Michael stared down at his own arm.
"How can that be possible?" KITT asked. "I'm a computer."
"You're more than that," Michael replied, a laugh both tearful and giddy working its way up his throat. "You always have been. Come on, let's go home."
"Back to the Foundation?" KITT asked.
"Always."
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lookninjas · 1 year ago
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⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
That's a lot of stars.
So I gave it a little bit of thought, and I think what I'm going to do is a breakdown of the edited version of Humdrum and Humble, since it's the most recent fic I've actually completed and posted that wasn't a very short one shot that can be boiled down to "I want to see everyone be nice to Rose Walker" or its natural converse "I want to see Roderick Burgess get kicked repeatedly in the dick." And as much as I'd like to get into something more recent, all I have that's recent is a couple of WIPs and any scenes I detail from those will almost certainly wind up missing from the deleted fic just because that's how it goes.
Also, I've already done a commentary on the original (mostly) unedited version of it, so it kind of feels nicely bookendish.
So let's dive in.
It starts in a theater lobby, while he’s paying for paper bags of rice and newspaper, playing cards and toast. He is out of his depth and trying to pretend he isn’t, in his old boots and a black button-down shirt, surrounded by sequins and pancake makeup and garishly bright wigs and fishnet stockings -- literally, everyone here seems to be in fishnets except for him and Poe. Even the silver-haired gentleman taking tickets has fishnet gloves on, and Ben feels like such a hick. And not, of course, that he feels like he belongs most places. That’s something that’s followed him his whole life. But this moment in particular, in this theater lobby, might be the worst so far. It certainly feels like it.
The first draft of this story was written during Rocky Horror season, specifically the week between our movie theater performance and our casino performance. At that point in the year, I'm understandably fucking breathing Rocky Horror. So that's a large part of where this scene comes from. I'd also referenced Toby playing Columbia once already, in Dead Souls, and sometimes when I was driving to or from work I'd mentally turn the idea of him and Poe interacting as part of a shadowcast around in my head for a few miles at a time. Rocky is kind of a liminal space where anything goes, and also the kind of place where Ben is going to feel decidedly off-kilter at first, even if he gets more comfortable as he goes along. So it just felt like a good place to start. Ben knew he was going to have a weird night. It just got weirder than he thought. But he also has Poe with him to guide him, and Poe has had experience in both these worlds -- Rocky Horror, and then also Torchwood, through that friendship with Toby that I dreamed up in my car driving through the middle of nowhere.
Sidenote: It's such a weird thing to try to write these situations where the main character has no idea what's going on, because you want to put some exposition in, but that's not how people have conversations. This scene was the worst for that, because of how minimal Ben's involvement is. As he gets more enmeshed in the plot, people take time to explain things to him. Right now, he just knows something weird went down at a synagogue once, and also sometimes people buy drugs from people with blowfish heads. But he's midwestern, you know, so he's just running with it. As you do.
And then some smaller notes: There's a bit about Aly getting hurt when he touches the person who took the drugs, which is notable because the skin on his left side is synthetic -- thicker and less sensitive than his real skin. It's also why his hand is cool in the second scene, at Pride. Poe saying "Stay safe out there," is a callback to Dead Souls, although I don't think the final draft used that saying as much as earlier versions did. Lastly, while I didn't edit much on this scene, I did add Jonah to it -- the silver-haired ticket taker in the fishnet gloves. Hilariously, Ben doesn't remember him being there, even though he'll later recognize the kid who took the drugs. Chalk it up to the kid being as conspicuous as possible, while Jonah's trying to blend in.
SECOND SCENE:
It’s Motor City Pride, which means it’s hot and it’s sticky and he’s got a ton of shit on his plate.
Fun fact: I have no idea what that conversation between Ben and Lando is supposed to be about, apart from people are trying to get Ben to do something and he really doesn't have time but is too polite to say no.
So this one is interesting, because it's our proper introduction to Jonah. In the last scene, we had Torchwood jumping in to a dangerous situation. This scene, we have Jonah in that position. His little conversation with Lando is one of my favorites, because it reveals so much about the two of them in a few lines:
Lando has worked with Torchwood enough that Jonah recognizes him on sight as someone who'd have their contact numbers.
Jonah knows Torchwood, but either doesn't have those numbers or is unwilling to call them.
Lando has encountered enough Time Agents to clock Jonah on sight.
The "Not Captain Jonah Hawthorne?" "Just Jonah" is our first clue that Jonah is trying to move on from his past.
And, of course, there's that echoing moment where Jonah puts his hand on Ben's shoulder, then Lando puts his hand on Ben's shoulder, and then Aly puts his hand on Ben's shoulder. Same basic playbook. Ben is more involved in this particular scene than he was the last, but he's still a civilian being treated as a civilian. He's helping with one person. They're handling the whole situation.
At the same time, his decision to help that one person winds up being crucial to how the story ends, which is the fun thing about it.
THIRD SCENE:
“-- scale of it,” Kai is saying, when Ben comes out of it. It’s dark, and there’s something cool and damp on his forehead. He feels okay with his eyes closed. He’s not sure how he’s going to feel when he finally makes his mind up to open them.
Ben, you're eavesdropping. Admit that you're eavesdropping.
Jonah mentions that John Hart had been in town -- this is a Torchwood Four story that I've toyed with for ages and never actually written out. Although one of my WIPs gets into it a little more. Whether John is cleaned up in canon is I think still fairly ambiguous, although I haven't really gotten much into the Big Finish audios. I do feel like Jonah, having known him from his worst days, would have his doubts. And Kai isn't that much more certain.
This also gets a little into what Jonah did with the Time Agency, at least for the latter part of his career -- he was the one to go after the rogue Time Agents when they went too rogue. Which is why, if a Time Agent were to be involved in this, things might get too personal too quickly.
One note: Poe's last full appearance in the fic here, and he has one of my favorite lines of the whole thing, even though it's sort of an odd choice -- “Toby always tells me it’s a very human response. I don’t even think he realizes how many times he’s told me that.” There's something unsettling to me about how the Torchwood Amnesia effect even affects Torchwood.
FOURTH SCENE:
Less than a month later, he finds himself sprinting down a crowded sidewalk, chasing a man who appears to have a bright red fish’s head where his human face should be.
This is the scene that made me want to write the fic -- Ben chasing an alien through the streets of Detroit. I just loved the image. I still love the image. No Torchwood, no Time Agent, just Ben being an incredibly brave moron.
I mean, he never does anything half-assed, so.
And judging by the blowfish's response, he's not even the first Detroit resident to pull something like this.
One of my favorite conversations in the whole fic is this one. I think it's easy to forget, reading through some of the other stories in the Children's Work universe, that Ben is tremendously unafraid of physical harm. He's been very traumatized, and he's very wary of certain emotional situations due to that trauma, but physically he'll absolutely throw himself into dangerous shit and not care at all. He's very secure here, even when he's alone and cornered and has a gun pointed at him. It doesn't bother him at all. He gets annoyed. He even challenges the blowfish at the end. “Just what kind of business is your boss involved in, exactly?”
And then Torchwood shows up to take over, and for the first time we get to see them dangerous, which is fun. I like how Kai basically unintentionally sums up the purpose of her Torchwood -- not arming against the future, or finding the Doctor, or weapons for the empire, but -- "You don’t kill kids in my town."
This is another part where the exposition gets interesting. First, we get the blowfish babbling about how Universe went down and there's no Torchwood in London anymore and there's a bitch in Wales (Hi Gwen!) Then Kai goes technobabble about vortex energy, and finally Toby steps in to explain things in English. Ben even gets a chance to ask some questions and receives a few answers, although they're brief and they lead to even more questions that he doesn't want answered.
And Mr. Universe/Ben Eugenides makes his return. I've kind of given up on doing a Torchwood Four story with this team that doesn't reference him -- I suppose as long as Aly's part of the team, that does go with the territory. Also, somewhere in writing this (and then continuing to work with the Jonah character), the idea of the death of Mr. Universe causing this hole in the extraterrestrial artifact black market became kind of an appealing hook for stories. If he was purchasing and selling (and releasing into the streets of Detroit) a lot of very dangerous alien artifacts, that creates a power vacuum that enterprising criminals would want to get into, as well as those who would be lured to the city by the promise of finding all of Mr. Universe's artifacts that Torchwood couldn't get to first.
Also, unstated in the story -- I have no doubt at all that Poe took Ben to Mr. Universe's shop at least once when they were kids, for incense or oils or tarot cards or something of that nature.
There's a brief nod to the fact that, since Dead Souls takes place in 2010, and Ben doesn't move to Detroit until 2016, Torchwood Four has outlived their standard expectancy by a little bit. (For the record, I imagine this story taking place around 2018.) But they're my characters, I love them, and they're not dying. Also, Aly doesn't count because he was born around 1916, but also went missing for about seventy years, and most likely spent that time in some kind of stasis. So he's not that much older than everyone else. He's pretty sure.
FIFTH SCENE
This time, there’s no room for forgetting.
Another good characterization moment for Ben right off the bat in this one: He keeps moving, and if the fear moves with him -- well. He’s used to that, isn’t he? Like an old familiar friend. I think part of what was interesting to me about this was this kind of moment for Ben, where he's in a very frightening situation and just kind of handles it. He keeps going, keeps living. Pays very close attention to what's around him and is aware of the ways in which he's in danger and is aware of the people trying to protect him and then also kind of... lets it go. And when the crisis can, he does what he can to call attention to the danger and then just walks right into it, knowing.
And trash-talks the woman who's threatening to kill him because he figures he's already pissed her off enough, so whatever.
Not like Jonah's better, calling his nemesis a cliche in the middle of their fight.
I had originally wanted Ben to take a more physically active role in the fight, but it didn't work out that way, and that's probably for the best. This is really more about the mental resilience of him and that particular fight -- having him throw punches would be a cop-out. He stays ready to get involved if he needs to, all the way up to holding a loaded gun at the ready in case he needs to shoot someone, but he's waiting until the need arises and trusting Jonah otherwise. There's even the very deliberate call-out to the fact that he could just eject the magazine, empty the last round out of the chamber, and throw the gun away, but he doesn't. He's fearless, but he's not dumb, and he'll do what he has to to save someone else.
That it doesn't come out that way is largely because of what he did to help the kid with the tie-dye in the second scene. He's not a good person -- he tazes Jonah for literally no reason -- but he bonded with Ben just enough in that hour at Pride that he changes the whole course of the story for it. It'd be sweet, if it weren't a fucked-up murder suicide pact in the end.
It's very interesting how much the kid does want to die. He takes the Sontaran Sunlight, he tazes Jonah, he claims to have set up a real bomb this time even though, at the end, it's another glitter bomb. He pretends he's disabled the panic buttons and then Torchwood shows up. He playacts the part of a villain, or attempts to, but in the end he makes a better victim.
And even with patchy exposition, Ben has still picked up enough info about Vortex Manipulators to realize that the Vortex Manipulator is the trigger to the bomb and that both the boy and the Time Agent have the ability to set it off. He might be an idiot when it comes to self-preservation, but he's sharp as a tack otherwise.
SIXTH SCENE
The butterfly bandages aren’t enough to patch Jonah’s face together where it’s split apart over his left eyebrow, and the glue is running low.
Ben finally in his element here. No chasing anything, no guns, no fighting. Just patching someone together so he can feed them.
This is the scene where I have to confront the O.C. in the room. What is the point of Jonah in specific? What is his arc, where is he going, and what does that say about Ben and his story? The entire time, Ben has been dipping his toe back into familiar uncomfortable waters. There is a crisis. The whole city, maybe even the whole world, could be in danger. Everything is lining up to make it look like it's his responsibility to stop the catastrophe. But in the end, it isn't a gunshot that makes the difference. It's the decision to sit with one person who really needed him, to take that time and take that care, that fixes things. That's where Jonah wants to be. He has been in the background of the story the entire time, wrestling with his decision to leave the Time Agency and just tidy up his corner of the universe for the time he has left. He just doesn't fully know how.
And Ben realizes that, and very directly offers to help him figure it out.
So we start with Ben fully out of his depth at Rocky Horror, and now he's back where he belongs at his own restaurant, doing what only he can with the experience that only he has. And it's that fearless side but also the compassionate side that has brought him where he is. And now Jonah's the one out of his depth and Ben will help him figure things out. Which is why it ends specifically with:
And it isn’t where the story ends, of course. But it isn’t a terrible place to start.
Which is also largely why I've been picking at various stories involving Jonah since then, because now I want to know how this works for him, because for all the similarities between himself and Ben, we're still talking about a sixty year-old Time Agent leaving the game as opposed to a teenager stealing a five year-old and moving to rural Northern Michigan, so there's going to be some changes.
One day. One day I'll finish a new fic.
I feel like I had more to say about some things; it's always different when you're thinking about it in the car than it is when you're actually sitting down to type shit out. But it's still fun to do this. I hadn't realized how tidy that arc was until just now, so that's fun. Sometimes I'm a better writer than I realize while I'm writing. I think that's true of most of us.
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doveofmourning · 2 months ago
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While I'm thinking about it this is my ranking of every ghostface! (I'm counting anyone who did at least one on screen kill while wearing the mask!)
Billy Loomis: truly the OG and the man with the plan. I'm a lesbian and I also know I SHOULDN'T be thirsty for him but there's something about how deranged he is while still thinking things through so well that kinda does it for me!
Amber Freeman: oh my god she's an idiot but she's just like me for real!!! Probably my favorite sequel ghostface honestly. Plus she killed that man??? Who we all thought was unkillable????? Soooo...
Stu Macher: did you really think he'd be any lower? He was impulsive and kinda ruined the plan but he had the spirit.
Charlie Walker: fucking moron who got played hard but his kills were enjoyable and also if I'm being real estrogen would have saved her. Literally put down the knife and transition instead, Jill isn't going to love you bbg.
Sam Carpenter: Only one kill but you know damn well she wanted more and honestly the ability to have done it, IN THE MASK, with the hallucinations begging her to do more, and still stop once it wasn't self defense? Yeah okay queen you're an icon.
Danny Johnson: technically a spinoff character but I'll include him since he wore the mask and used the name!! I love Danny but also he's a creep and doesn't really feel emotionally like ghostface to me. But he's cool ig!! I'd watch a movie with him in it.
Jill Roberts: Look she's a bitch but her plan was GOOD. Honestly it's only plot armor that made her lose. She planned it well and I'm impressed with her even if she's sick and twisted.
Sydney Prescott: Barely counts tbqh but also she did do it so I'll give it to her just for being a badass, since everyone below this is at least kind of disappointing.
Jason Carvey: second best opening kill in the franchise, VERY slightly beating out the opening kill for Scream 2. I'm sad we never really got to know him and I do think he should have had a chance in that fight.
Quinn Bailey: All 3 of the main Scream 6 ghostface killers kinda suck but she sucks the least, mostly for that fight scene with Gale! She kicked ass there and I'll give her the point for it.
Ethan Bailey: He still sucks and is bland as a character but had two VERY cool sequences. (The ladder sequence which was the kill that made me saddest and most uncomfortable and the train sequence.) Bland though.
Debbie Loomis: didn't even really get her hands dirty except the once and then it was one of the best characters in the franchise so I do hate her a bit for that but also her plan was well orchestrated and her fall guy was well picked.
Jamal Elliot: Look I don't like the TV Series at all but honestly he had a good arc and a good motive and some okay kills given it was for TV. Would I have preferred him in movie? Definitely. Was he even close to the worst killer on this list? Nope!
Micky Altieri: I do not believe this guy exists tbqh. He is so deeply unbelievable as a character that he ruins the immersion for me. Some good kills but his motivation and characterization flip makes no sense.
Roman Bridger: Why would he be higher tbh. None of his plans worked even with as Machiavellian as he's supposed to look, his retcon is stupid and takes the weight away from previous movies, he's incompetent and also like why would you get involved in a film franchise about the crimes you caused to be committed? I feel like it's so sloppy and the person masterminding ghostface can't be sloppy. Also the kills in this movie suck.
Detective Bailey: Boring character, twist visible from miles away, I did not trust him even from the poster, and his motivation makes him despicable. Hate him.
Beth: Literally a caricature of a ghostface killer. She would be at the very bottom if I didn't hate Richie with the passion of a billion burning suns.
Richie Kirsch: literal actual pedophile. Like canonically. He groomed a 16 year old lesbian (maybe she's bi in the final cut?? I know in the original script she was explicitly a lesbian but maybe they changed it to make Richie look less bad idk) into doing this and I'm glad he's dead actually.
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