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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years ago

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Dancing With Our Hands Tied (Part Two)

Series: Undercover Hotch fic/series™

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 4,408 | Rated: T | Warnings: swearing, discussion of domestic abuse, possibly compromising positions(?), an almost kiss

Tropes: bedsharing, fake married, mutual pining

Chapter Summary: after holding hotch's hand for a few minutes, it wouldn't be a problem to hold it for most of the morning? because now the retreat gimmicks begin as the two of you search for information while dealing with the events.

A/N: sorry for the delay on part two -- had some family things going on this month <3. look out for part three :) Thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera for always letting me bounce ideas off of her and generally being amazing.

“Where do we start?”

The retreat lodge was larger than you imagined — with sprawling grounds that weren't just limited to the main lodging area where the couples stayed — but extended beyond to woods, hiking trails, and beyond. Hell, you glanced out the window at a nearby mountain, you wouldn’t be surprised if they owned a mountain as well.

“I have no idea,” you murmur, your arm intertwined with Hotch’s, as the two of you stepped into the lobby for the patented mix-and-mingle with the other couples before breakfast. Not only mind-numbing, soul-churning mingling — but with other couples with marital issues -- exactly what every vacation needs, “this place doesn’t seem big on technology — I haven’t seen a single computer or cellphone,”

“The front desk only has paper logs,” he shakes his head, “I asked about the lack of technology in the rooms. A noted policy of no tech — including the employees. I don’t think we are even allowed our cellphones after this breakfast.”

You scan the couples beginning to shuffle down now, “If there’s no tech here, where do you think they keep their guest and employee files?”

“I don’t think breakfast is ready yet, sweetheart,” he replies, as your gaze snaps to his cheeks burning, as you realize a couple approaching your six, “but I’m sure you won’t have to wait too much longer,”

“I’m right there with you,” the husband winks at you, his stomach shaking as he laughs even before he jokes, “if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to lose one of my only reasons for coming to this place,”

And something tells you it isn’t much of a joke either.

“But not the reason for coming here, isn’t that right, dear?” his wife assumedly smiles at you, icily, “Molly Chapman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and you are?”

You introduce yourself, forcing a straight face on as you manage to say your alias, offering your hand, “This is my husband, Thomas,” as Hotch introduces himself to Molly’s husband, Harry, who claps your boss on the shoulder.

“So,” Harry leans in, almost clandestinely, “what are you two in for?”

“Harry!” Molly chastises him, but her eyes hook onto your expressions, her lips pursed in disapproval if only to hide her smile.

“Well, if it helps, me and the missus here need some help communicating,” he crosses his arms, shaking his head, “never learned much about that growing up,” and he elbows Hotch, “but I’m sure you can relate — we’re practically in the same generation,” And you nearly snort, trying and failing to hide your smile — which Hotch notes, as you see him shoot a small glare your way.

Harry and Molly don’t notice, too busy reprimanding her husband again, before she sighs, pinching at the bridge of her nose, “It’s just as well, we are all going to find out about each other’s problems anyway,”

And you furrow your brow, “I saw group therapy on the itinerary — is it mandatory?”

“It is,” Molly nods, “Dr. Rosen, the therapist who helped design the program, insisted on it — otherwise it would just be a vacation, not a couples retreat,” and she raises an eyebrow, “didn’t you read that in the paperwork when you signed up?”

“I did most of the paperwork,” Hotch intercedes, his fingers intertwining with yours, “my love here was busy wrapping up some loose ends for work so I ended up taking the lead on it,”

“Oh well now I know what’s wrong with you two,” Harry chuckles, as Molly elbows him again, half-heartedly, as he gestures to you, coffee in hand, “you wear the pants in the relationship, got that one wrapped around your finger, now don’t you? Not surprising, with the age gap and all--” as he looks you up and down, winking at Hotch, as you gape at him, “nicely done, sir.”

Your blood begins to boil, several insults picked out and fine-tuned on your tongue as you open your mouth, “Well—”

��We’re working on it,” Hotch clears his throat, jerking his head toward the now ready breakfast buffet, “Harry, it looks like—”

“Food’s on!” and he’s scurrying away to the table, as his wife follows suit, giving both of you a nod, as you glare at his retreating back.

“Food fucking saved his life,” and your eyes slide back to Hotch, as he gestures for you to head over to the breakfast table, “and so did you,”

“Well, I figured you murdering someone on our first day here would attract some unwelcome attention,” he steers you away from the direction of the Chapmans, his hand now slipping around your waist, and you do your best to ignore the flip of your heart, focusing on the fancy finger foods the retreat put out for breakfast, until you feel Hotch’s fingers drum on the small of your back, “do you see that?”

You glance at him, following his gaze until your eyes fall on a door that says ‘Employees’ Only’ around the corner, the manager slipping through the door, locking it behind him. You glance away nonchalantly, helping yourself to some mini-breakfast sandwiches and some fruit, “Do you think they keep the employee files?”

“Maybe,” he breathes in your ear, as he reaches over your shoulder to grab some food, making you shiver at the closeness, “but how do we—”

“Welcome!” a voice booms from the foyer, sweeping arms as he steps forward cutting through the dining room, “Please everyone take a seat. Help yourself to some breakfast.”

You both make your way to a table, and Hotch pulls out your chair for you, giving a small smile, as he takes his seat beside you.

“I hope you all are beginning to get to know each other, but that is not all you will be getting to know today,” he clasps his hands, he bared his teeth with his fake white smile, “I am Richard Rosen, and I will be guiding you through your time during this six-week retreat, where you are not only going to learn about our facilities, about mindfulness, and about yourselves,” his eyes scan the crowd smiling, “you’re going to learn about each other.'

Oh, how wonderful.

You had read up about this guy last night — went to Harvard — Harvard College in Indiana, and got his certification in Psychology after four weeks of surely intense training. After that, he opened his own practice in New York City, which folded after several complaints ranging from sexual harassment to fraud. Unfortunately for his clients (and fortunately for him), there wasn’t enough evidence to get his lack-luster certification yanked. He then moved from city to city, learning from his mistakes, and never stuck to the same city for long enough for someone to catch onto his treatment packaged charade. Until eventually, he settled upon White Mountains Retreat, where he was allowed to stay in one place, but with a revolving door of patients.

He was one of your suspects — no record, but had easy access to the couples, and intimate knowledge of their relationships.

"But our time will begin together tomorrow,” he beams at all of you, “Right now, I'm going to pass it over to the man who you will be coordinating your incredibly list of daily activities during your stay here — the man responsible for all the wonderful memories you will make — Mr. Brock Hillen," Rosen steps aside, welcoming Hillen to take over, and he doesn’t wait a beat, checking his watch before disappearing down a hall.

“Where’d he go?” you murmur, and Hotch shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” Hotch murmurs, lips barely moving, “but do you see that?”

And you spot cuts on Brock’s arms before he tugs the sleeve of his shirt down to cover it, “Could be consistent with causing those injuries our victims,”

And Brock Hillen was no less suspicious than Rosen — with a criminal record to match. With two charges of domestic assault, Hillen already had a history of violence with his ex-wife, but since she divorced him, he has had no other charges. Yet, because of his record, he went job to job, until he found himself as the Activities Coordinator of White Mountain. Could it be that his rage over his wife leaving him led to the murders? Maybe something in the last few weeks that triggered it.

“Hello all!” he greets, holding his arms out, his fake blonde hair nearly blinding under the bright light of the chandelier that hangs above him, “thank you Richard, for that all too kind introduction,” he begins his spheal on the healing nature of the resort, the efforts of his team in coordinating the next six weeks for them, and you begin to lose interest around his third sentence with the word “enchant” in it.

And your eyes can’t help but slide to Hotch a moment, whose arm rests on your lower back still, the metal of his watch gently pressed against your shirt, and you swear his thumb brushes against your spine. You almost want to brush it away, his touch is so gentle, so sweet, so intentional, but it wasn’t — it wasn’t.

“For our first event,” and now you’re blinking back to Brock — to the reason you were here — to catch a killer, “I’m going to have you do one of the very things that Richard mentioned — an activity that will allow you to you learn more about yourselves and each other,” and he gestures around you, “as well as the grounds themselves,” Other employees start handing the couples a clipboard, “your task will be to get each of your stamps from around the retreat — this obviously includes our grounds and other facilities, including our spa, chapel, gardens, and so on.”

“Seems like a perfect opportunity to look around,” you murmur — as Hotch takes the clipboard, flipping through the scavenger hunt -- at least there wasn’t some cheesy shtick to this activity.

“To symbolize the journey you all will be embarking on together as couples, you must complete the task hand-in-hand,” Brock brings his two hands together, “please, there will be staff all over the facilities, if you need a hint, feel free to ask, and I will be here as well to provide any assistance,” he gestures to employees behind the couples, “now, at the sound of the gong—”

At the sound of the what—

And then a loud crash fills the air, rattling your eardrums, making you jump, “Take each other’s hand, and begin!”

Couples begin scattering about, pulling each other along — you spot Molly dragging Harry away from the breakfast table.

And Hotch rises beside you, offering you his hand, clipboard in his other hand, “Ready?”

You glance from him to his hand.

Probably not, but— your fingers intertwine with his, his calloused fingers warm, and the cool metal of his band brushing against your skin—

“Ready.”

What other choice did you have?

~~~

“How many more do we have?” So far, the first few stamps have taken you all around the other facilities — the spa, the garden, the sauna — but none inside the retreat center itself. Not a single one had given you a change to find where the files were kept in this place.

“Two more left,” he murmurs, “I assume the last one will take us back into the main building, so the other must be—”

“At the chapel,” you glance at the map of the place you were handed by an employee who took pity on you two after you had wandered around the grounds — completely lost, “at least we don’t have to bother figuring out the riddles now,”

“You mean you don’t need to bother,” you shake your head, “i’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Are you okay?” he asks, as the two of you stroll towards the chapel, everyone else out of earshot, “the first day can be—”

“No, it’s not that,” you look around the grounds, and you resist the urge to flex your fingers, but he notices you tense — and you know he would drop your hand but he can’t, so he steps away a little, “It’s not you—”

“But it’s you?” he chuckles, as you bite your lip, “I know it’s a lot,” he sighs, as you two reach the chapel, a relatively small building built on top of a hill. It’s a white marble building, its one spire splitting the sky above it asunder, practically gleaming in the sunlight. The double mahogany doors are drawn open for the couples, another just leaving as you two arrive. You watch him stare up at the chapel, “it is for me too.”

You frown, as the employees at the entrance greet you, and direct you to sit near the front together for a few minutes — to take solace in the quiet before you receive your stamp. Hotch hands them the clipboard as you both wander down the aisle together.

The aisles are lined with white pews, light streaming through beautiful stained glass windows. Your footsteps echoed against the stone floor. You step and sit into the pew beside Hotch, sitting back a moment. The chapel itself had no denomination — it was clear it was made for the sake of religious and non-religious functions — likely an intentional choice not to exclude any religion or atheists for that matter.

After all, money was money in their eyes.

You two are quiet a moment, your hands still interlaced for the sake of the employees still watching the two of you, “I think for me,” your voice low, “it’s just weird to be this close with anyone,”

“You mean physically or?” you shrug.

“It’s part of it — it has been a while since I’ve shared a bed with someone,” you purse your lips, “but like you said, it’s hard for me to let someone see me, like all of me,” and you glance at him, “and it’s hard when you’re literally the leader of a team of, you know.”

“I know,” he leans against the back of the pew, “it’s impossible to hide things from the team even when when we don’t spend every minute with them, and now that we’re spending the all of the next six weeks together--”

“There won’t be much we can do to hide,” you nod, looking down at the floor.

And that was what scared you the most.

The employees hand you back the clipboard at that moment, excusing you both back, and the two of you step out of the chapel, “I just want you to know,” you say, as the two of you reach the bottom of the hill, “you don’t have to hide anything from me,” and he raises an eyebrow, as you add, “if you don’t want to.”

“Do most people hide anything because they really want to?”

“No I meant,” you chew your lip, “This is probably hard for you, and I don’t want to act like I know what you’re going through — I don’t,” you would never deign to think you knew what it was like to lose your the love of your life, your best friend, and mother of your child in one fell swoop, “but you don’t have to pretend,” not with me, you want to add, but you don’t — you can’t.

He blinks a moment, eyebrows raising only for a millisecond, before he sighs, “It’s easier to pretend,” he presses his lips together, as another couple approaches, “and that’s what we’re here to do,” and he begins to walk forward, gently pulling you along, as your cheeks burn, your head fixed on the ground, until he adds, “but I appreciate it,” and you meet his gaze, several emotions in his eyes, before he tears it away, “thank you.”

You don’t get to respond, as the two of you step inside to find only most of the couples still hadn’t returned yet — still collecting the last of the stamps, and most of the staff floating around the grounds to corral and nudge stragglers along. And their absence left an opportunity.

So you glance around, before tugging a distracted Hotch along, wandering around a corner, “What—”

And you grab him by the shoulder, pinning him to the wall, cheeks burning all the while, not daring to meet his gaze, but its just the same because you hear the small gasp of your name that leaves his lips in a whisper, and his body tenses against your palm.

You lean up closer, before slowly craning your neck around the corner, “We’re a couple at a retreat looking to sneak away,” you murmur, lips barely moving, as you lean closer, nose brushing his neck �� god he smells good — but you refuse to let your lips brush against his skin, “or that’s what it will look like to anyone.”

His tenseness melts away, and he’s pliable to your touch, as your fingers graze his neck now, your thumb resting against his cheek, as he stares down at you — so adoringly as you tug him by the shirt away from the wall, following you with such ease.

You’re next to the employees only door — your fingers reach for the knob, turning — “It’s locked,” you murmur, and his brow furrows, as you cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to the lock.

And he’s spinning you around gently so that you’re pressed to the wall, your breath catching in your throat, as he looms over you, his fingers cupping your chin. His arm around your back, pulling your lower half close to him, but he’s holding the door knob in place while he tries to pick it with his other hand.

Your cheeks burn as he looks down on you, his gaze freezing you in place, far too close — his breath warming your lips, taking the breath from your lungs and replacing your blood with lava. And you can see so clearly — the cut of his jaw, the soft lines of his face, and the curve of his lips—

And then the lock clicks open.

He’s turning the knob, as you spare one glance over your shoulder to see if anyone sees either of you, but then the door is shutting behind you. You feel the wall for a light switch, and you flick it on, while you hear the click of the door locking again.

And you blink, a glorified break room — a few tables and a basic refrigerator stuck in the corner, a worn couch stuck against a wall, and a sink stuck in the corner with a subpar dish rack — far from the accolades that were in each guest’s room — but then again, the employees weren’t paying through the nose for the rooms.

You two stay close, as your eyes scan for anything that could be a camera — even one that isn’t obvious — placed in a smoke detector or lamp shade, “No cameras,” he pulls away, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat, tucking away the embarrassment to dwell on another time (likely right before when you’re trying to sleep).

But then again, the guests weren’t the ones working 18 hour shifts on their feet.

Hotch calls for you, pointing towards a few file drawers stuck in the corner, and the two of you head over, running your finger down the label on the drawers, “These are all client records — administrative, financial — nothing on the employees.”

“They must keep the employee records somewhere else that employees don’t have access to,” and you’re rifling through the folders, for something — anything.

“I haven’t seen any other employee areas,” you shut the drawers, and then you glance around, your eyes falling on another door in the corner of the room — “unless—”

“It must be Rosen and Hillen’s offices,” you walk over, reading the placard — Administration Offices, “locked?”

“This isn’t something that can be picked easily,” Hotch shakes his head, “it has a bump guard — it prevents—”

“--lock bumping,” and Hotch looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you my reason if you you tell me yours,

He snorts, “I learned it sometime between 6th grade and military school,” and it’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, “my father — he—”

“You don’t have to—” you shake your head, “unless you want to—”

“I’ll just say, it wasn’t a good childhood,” he raises to his feet.

And you can’t help but give a small smile, “But look at how well you turned out,” and he’s shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders, “Hotch,” you make him meet your gaze, “you’re a good man — don’t doubt that.”

His eyes meet yours again, warm, as he looks away to the floor for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching, “Thank you,” he breathes, and he’s stepping forward, “I—”

And then the doorknob is jiggling. Your heads snap to the door, before looking back to each other.

Shit.

Before you know it, his wrist is around yours, and he’s tugging you to the couch, as you fall backwards onto the soft cushions. He’s halfway kneeling between your legs, his body draped over you, and he’s leaning closer, murmuring an apology as he lips draw close to yours, “Hotch—”

And then the door is opening, as his lips nearly brush yours, “Hey!”

An employee stares at the both of you, as you both stumble to your feet, adjusting your clothes, “This is employees only — what are you—”

“Sorry!” you yelp, jumping to your feet, “so sorry,” and you brush past them, Hotch following at your heels.

And the two of you find your way back to the lobby, your heart still in your throat, as you tug on your clothes, “Thanks for the —” your cheeks burn, “I mean, good thinking—” you shake your head, "you know what I mean."

He snorts, his fingers finding yours again, giving them a slight squeeze, "Anytime," and your heart oh-so-helpfully skips a beat, tongue-tied, but luckily you don't have to response as Hotch glances at you, "you never did tell me how you learned about lock picking."

You shrug, “I have a checkered past,”

“That’s not much of an answer,” and you shoot him a half-smile.

“I have to keep you interested somehow don’t I?” you reply right as Brock begins to speak again.

The event wraps up with another talk from Brock — who has an employee approach him towards the end of his talk, whispering in his ear, and he nods, waving him off, “and one last thing — I know you all came to rejuvenate your marriages and partnerships through this retreat and we fully encourage you to do so but—” you swallow thickly, realizing just which employee must have whispered in his ear right then, “please refrain from doing so in restricted areas that are not for our guests.”

You cannot even bear to look at Hotch, keeping your gaze straight ahead, grabbing a drink on the tray, and sipping at it — and you wondered if you were masking your mortification well.

Probably fucking not.

~~~

Brock then adjourns them for the rest of the day — not wanting to “overwhelm them” on day one (or rather padding their time here with nothingness) — welcoming them to have their meal in the dining facilities or up in the rooms.

Most people head off to their rooms, while others linger in the lobby — chatting amongst themselves — he spots Harry rushing off to the dining facilities, his wife in tow.

The rest of the day goes off without much to-do. Hotch glances around — not a single thing of note learned about the guests or the staff. The other couples are all sociable to some extent — some more reserved than others, but none of them fit the unsub’s types so far — placing you two directly in the paths of the unsub.

By the time it’s time for bed, his body is aching for nothing but sleep — and it looked like you had the same idea. Already slipped under the covers, you’re curled up, half-asleep as your eyes flutter heavy with sleep.

Neither of you felt the need to stand guard in the room — the doors were securely locked for each of the couples, and the team was monitoring the situation at the local precinct. But you both kept your weapons close by — concealed in case someone happened to find their way in.

“Are you asleep?” Hotch whispers, and you mumble, shaking your head, turning to glance at him — your shoulders tense and brow furrowed.

“Is something going on?”

And he shakes his head, “No, sorry,” and you relax back in bed, but your lips still pursed, “I just hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier,” and you tilt your head — and he almost smiles at your sleep-induced confusion.

“Earlier?” and then it floods back to you — as you blink, glancing away from him, “oh—”

He shakes his head, “I just don’t want you to think I was—”

“Hotch, I know you weren’t,” you slowly sit up, “if you hadn’t done that, I think we would have been on our way home on our first day,” you chuckle, “and I know you wouldn’t take advantage — especially when we have a job to do.”

Right, a job, he chides himself, It was a job.

“If you want to sleep—”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” you yawn, turning around and getting comfortable again, “good night, Hotch.”

And he looks at you, a small sigh parting his lips — until he finally settles in bed beside you.

His arm resting across his forehead, he glances at you again. He had spent so much of today holding your hand, his fingers nearly flexing at the memory. It had been so long since he had held someone’s hand, so long since he had worn a ring on his finger, so long since he called someone his partner.

It felt so nice.

Nice — not only because he hadn’t realized how much he had missed having someone, someone beside him, someone there — but because —

Because it was you.

And he knew that because — he didn’t want to let go of your hand.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #hotch imagines #hotch #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch fanfiction #fic: undercover

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maxismatchccworld · 3 years ago

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Patch Notes

Update 9/7/2021

PC: 1.79.93.1030 / Mac: 1.79.93.1230

Console: Version 1.47

Hello Simmers!

We hope you are well wherever you are in the World.

Today, we have a special kind of update! As you now know, this is our first update that fully focuses on a previously released pack, giving it new life if you will. Today is the day for self-care for and with The Sims™ 4 Spa Day!

Spa Day is all about relaxation and getting some well-deserved personal Sim time and wellness. With this update, we are adding some features that will help enhance this wellness experience that we hope you enjoy.

Along with these enhancements, we were also able to fix a few issues that were live and needed some care.

Thanks again for your continued support and feedback!

Chaus!

-SimGuruRusskii

What’s New?

Spa Day Updates

Everyone deserves more time to refresh and more ways to renew! In this update, we added the following:

Three new Aspirations and a new Trait

The path to wellness is long but well worth it! Sims can now opt for three aspirational paths to achieve their own Zen:

Self-Care Specialists - For those Sims who would like to monetize their love of fitness and wellness.

Inner Peace - For the Sims that want to achieve ultimate harmony and learning tools to mitigate their negative emotions.

Zen Guru - For the Sims that want to share the power of wellness with the world…the whole world, for real. They also focus on seeking to train their successor to pass the knowledge along.

In addition to these new Aspirations, we added a new trait for those Sims that require a bit of extra work to keep their needs… properly aligned. High Maintenance will allow your Sims to experience mindful tasks that can help their sense of wellbeing. No trouble is trivial, no need is too much.

You can find these new Aspirations and the new Trait in Create A Sim. And don’t forget the Spa Membership included with these Aspirations - it’s a steal!

Manicures and Pedicures

Some people like having a massage to decompress - a valid option… pretty sure I need one - but my favorite thing is manicures and pedicures! Hear me out! There is something so relaxing about choosing your design, color, shape, and having someone prettify (yes, it is a word… to me) your nails with the utmost care. Now your Sims can get these nail enhancements or graciously give them to other Sims. You can choose a design, a shape, and voilà! Your Sims’ nails will be as fabulous as they feel!

And if you don’t want to get your nails done by a professional- tight budget, totally get it - Sims will have access to the same options in Create A Sim that you can instantly apply to your Sims nails - it’s like insta nails!! You can pick from a variety of swatches with color combinations, designs, or just a solid color for each fingernail. You can also choose a variety of one solid color choices for your Toenails. You can find them in the Accessories category in Create A Sim, where you will see a Fingernails and Toenails sort with the options.

We want to highlight that in this upgrade to Spa Day we have a design from the wonderful Ebonix that is featured in Create A Sim! Ebonix is a super talented Sims Creator, and we are happy we can feature one of her designs and share it with everyone.

About Yoga and Meditation

Yoga Classes can now take place outside of Spas and Gyms! You can hire a yoga instructor or teach your own class from the Instructor Yoga Mat. Speaking of teaching, Sims can also lead Guided Meditation sessions from Meditation Stools. Oh, and I don’t want to forget to mention that Children are able to practice and teach both Yoga and Meditation as well!

New Objects, Facial Masks… Oh my!

As part of this update, we also added a few new objects and swatches in Build Mode, these include a new luxurious massage table and a massage chair that can also be used for manicures and pedicures for a full relaxation experience. And as an added bonus, there is a new portable massage chair and table, so your Sims can give massages, manicures, and pedicures on the go to earn some Simoleons.

Besides these, we added as part of your Sims’ self-care routine the ability to purchase and apply Facial Masks. They come in a variety of benefits and designs; for ease of access, we recommend having in your preferred lot the Doc Sweet’s Luke-Warm Mini Dispenser. This mini version of the original refrigerator can hold your favorite beverages in a compact space, but as an added benefit, Sims can purchase Facial Masks from it. By the way, don’t forget to try the new Cucumber Power-Sip and cucumber slices for a tasty snack! Also available with this update.

Base Game Updates

For those who don’t own Spa Day, we wanted to give you a treat as well. For Base Game Simmers we added the nail options for fingernails and toenails in Create A Sim for you to enjoy. Same as mentioned previously, there will be choices under the Fingernails and Toenails sort in Create A Sim, there will be a variety of solid one-color nails and color combination nails available for the Base Game itself.

Bug FixesConsole

We fixed an issue in which some of the controls when players are in the Game Options menus were a little off, it should work correctly now.

The Sims 4

New games should no longer experience the automatic generation of empty households, and the ensuing save size increase and performance lag that this causes. The team is still investigating how to safely fix existing saves that have this issue.

We fixed an issue that affected Custom Content Chairs that when slotted with certain objects it created Sims routing issues.

Sometimes, in certain saves, Sims would lose their names when visiting some Lots - most notoriously the Goth’s Lot but it could happen anywhere. If a Sim has no name… does that Sim exist? I can assure you that the Goths were not involved, but this issue should no longer occur.

Ever had the need to order food or drinks but you just couldn’t be bothered? Been there, however the issue of Sims and NPCs not being able to order food and drinks autonomously has been fixed. Order away!

Have you noticed that your Sims had been doing Fitness things or Dancing if they Disliked those things? Strange no? It should no longer happen as long as they continue to Dislike them of course. As a note, unfortunately (for those affected), Sims are subject to choose music they Dislike still from any stereo so they can still torment other Sims (and Simmers) around them.

We fixed an issue in which the Mega Window (Double Budget Grand Deluxe DeLite) in build Mode was missing a few swatches and displayed them as empty.

Let’s talk about Unibrows! Are they in? Are they out? No matter, every brow is welcome! We have fixed an issue that didn’t make the thicker unibrow available for female frame Sims and that didn’t make the thinner unibrow available for male frame Sims. So all the unibrows for both frames!

Did you ever notice an invisible slot under the All of the Things table? We sure did, and while I think that if it is called “all of the things” it could have all the things, everywhere… I guess? This was not acceptable so we fixed that.

Get to Work

The hairstyle yfHair_EP01TwistLow has been tagged correctly in the Updo Hairstyle category. Is it still an Updo even if the bun is low and not up high? These are the questions I ponder sometimes.

Eco Lifestyle

If you noticed the Community Voting Board missing from venues across packs in Build Mode, never fear. It has been found and should be safely back in Build Mode.

Dream Home Decorator

Ever had such good-looking décor that you can’t just sleep because you have to look at it? As much as we want your Sims to love their décor and their style, we thought it was a bit too much that they would not sleep and just look at it, so this should no longer happen.

#s4cc #s4 patch notes

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rivendellsstuff · 3 years ago

Text

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━━ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | ❝In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he know the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.❞

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2310;

Genre: friends to lovers;

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: Mentions of canon-typical violence. The first chapter is set before the events of the first season. Friends with benefits — so, it'll be eventual smut (like, a lot!)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: English isn't my natives language, so if you spot a misspelled word or anything else, feel free to let me know.

━━━━ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

Some men's whish the glory, others crawl like snakes by power and there is those who live like rats in the system. However, there is a exception — and his names is Levi Ackerman. Emerged from the underground, by dust and blood, forged as a weapon at an early age and steeped in pride, he raised as humanity's strongest soldier. He carries a doctrine, imbedded in his bones: he serves to humanity, the balance and the freedom of mankind. If there is a threat, he is the man who can fight against it, ranging from cruel people to evil titans.

He was born in cruel times and did his best to survive in the Underground. He found a glory he wasn't looking for. Something many wish to through their lives, but which, for him, was irrelevant. They all bleed, they all are stuck on the Walls and share the same ended chapter: the death. The final outcome is not defined by possessions, achievements or privileges in life. The only difference was that could get death any easier and painless. Levi was not a hypocrite: he would rather a peaceful death, lying on his bed, instead of being eaten by a titan.

He rather — and is all what it is. It wasn't like if he had any choice. The Ackerman's family were designed to protect the people and to fight. They were cursed with a power. Some people could say it is a miracle in dark times. Others would argue that mans were corrupted, cruel and too ambitious to deal with that awakened power. Well, Levi knows, that no everyone were worthy to possess such ability — Kenny, that asshole, was one of them.

However, there was kind strange situation. An only exception, an affliction that hung over through the heart and maddened his mind: you.

Desire wasn't a word enough to define how he feels close to you, a fearless female warrior, who destroy each barrier he has built over the years, causing delirium with the thought of you hurt. Levi knew he would have taken a checkmate just by desiring you.

But when it all starts? He couldn't say with sure. Maybe, when he, Farlan and Isabel were recruited by the Survey Corps, and you were the only one who spoke to them without undriveable mock and trial. You, besides Erwin, didn't seem to care where they came from. As deeply loyal as you were to your comrades, you didn't depend on your interactions with them for take a direction — you were content to follow your own passions and desires without input from anyone else.

Maybe it started when he saw you in battle or an a argue with a member of Military Police Regiment. Fear is not in yours's vocabulary when you are on the battlefield or when you are speaking her mind to others.

As their partnership grew, he'd find some similarities between you, but also many differences.

You, just like him, has little patience for any form of prose or riddles when you are communicating with others. You speak bluntly and without pretense, and expects others to do the same, prefers to get to the point and doesn’t seek to romanticize your expectations or intentions. You also are focused on the present issues and what role you can play in protecting the people that you love, what can prevent you from seeing the future results of your present actions and, unlike him, does result in some impulsive and risky — yet brave— actions.

All these little things over the years, made him fall in love with you, and Levi had ways to say it without saying "I love you".

Like that night.

He wasn't hiding his disgust face when handed you a cup full of that steaming, black liquid; the simply smelling coffee could make your stomach turn, but still, he prepares a cup for you every night.

As the second in the command, you have spent several evenings together conducting the next advances of the squadron. So, there you are, sitting next to him, eyes focused on the paper, turning the pen between your fingers and... biting your lower lip.

Occasionally, almost instinctively Levi raises his eyes to you. Being so close of you was it's a unique feeling. The smell of your perfume as stunning, and his throat closes around the words he would like to say. The tension that has been brought in was too dangerous for someone like him.

Fucking woman, fucking lips. Fuck you!

''Is there a problem?'', you inquired making eye contact for the first time that night. He couldn't say if there was perversion when you wet your own lips, but Levi felt his muscles become tense and contracted when you made it.

Levi responded with a faint whimper before observed: ''You shouldn't be drinking so much coffee at this time. You look like shit when don't get sleep''.

Lie. Fucking hell, you're always beautiful, but no way he'd say what he thought.

You rolled your eyes. ''It's you who did'', you put forth.

''I wasn't in the mood to put up with a brat attitude from you.''

''Brat? You know that we have about the same age, don't you?'', your gaze traveled from the figure sat in front of you to the window, confused as to why you would be embarrassed about his presence. You took in a breath before adding: ''Anyway, don't want sleep.''

There was a pause for a few seconds. You and he eyed each other.

''Why?'', he asks, authoritative one.

You shrugged and shook your head firmly. ''It doesn't matter.''

''If it doesn't matter, why would I have asked that?''

"Cause you're snooper”, you smirked.

''I'm not a snooper, brat."

He felt his heart begin to quicken when you carried the pen to your lips and start biting.

"Yes, you are a horrible snooper old man, bossy and with an astonishing mania for cleanliness."

"Old? You know we have about the same age”; he repeats. His eyes drifted back to your face, noticing your gaze had shifted again to the woods beyond the window. "And you're avoiding the question", he softly says (at least as softy as he could be), interrupting your rampant thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Levi watches in silence as you'd shoulders slump.

"I can't sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being evil, although I always thought that one day it'd get better", you're voice was low and flat, quiet and a little sad as you spoke to Levi, who seemed to know what are you exactly referred to and only nodded at your words. "I feel guilty. All the time."

Even in the darkness the room held, your eyes find his greys one like the starlight's.

''Are you afraid of your dreams, too?'', you asked, never expecting the humanity strongest soldier to have any fears.

'Yes'', he said quietly.

You nodded with hesitation, his words repainting in your head as you struggled to forma a sentence to answered.

Levi was used to such sadness, he had month's — no, years — to griever over the deaths of his mother and friends. Death was not uncommon thing in his life. His childhood who should be carefree, playing in the sun, was like a living nightmare, learning to fight in the darkness of Underground. Later, when he left the place to join the Survey Corps, he accepted to live in that never ending tragedy that people had sadly grown used to. Death was more common in that job than anything else, and he knows how badly it fuck with his mind.

“I’m beginning to think we’re a lot alike… you and me. We’re both strange cast, who’ve learned to fight when we’re backed into a corner'', you began weakly.

''Well, we’re backed into a corner now. Two fucking insomniacs”, he shook his head, thinking about your words. He didn't seem to like the way your voice sounded sadder. You raised your eyes to him again as he slowly spoke: ''You're not alone''

You answered a tiny smile onto your lips. Levi felt his cheeks burn and opposite glanced to your empty coffee cup, thinking that he'll able to always tolerate your strange addiction.

A few second later you both went back to work, and Levi was left with words stuck, temptation planted in the mind and a sure thing for him: the insomniac nights would become better by you.

【 ━━ 】

Inside Wall Sheena, guests were arriving, among them five members of the Scout Regiment - consisting mostly of commanders - walked through the gates, exuding self-confidence, bitter to participate in that boring and stupid meeting.

Little lies, little social sacrifices to feed what kept the Scout Regiment going: funding.

It was not necessary to be an expert in politics to see beyond the traditional veil of those events, to perceive the intentions of certain parliamentarians, very sadistic. Knowing it was part of your job to relate to these kinds of people annoyed you.

For one minute, you saw out of the corner of your eyes, the first on your command. The man of grey eyes used a black suit that fits perfectly. Be present in an event with so many politics didn't seem to his liking. Was kind of hard for all of you play nice one with all this tension in the air.

You've never felt the feeling of fear and tension like that inside the Walls before.

''Stop frowning before you break your face''

'It would be so sad, and you would cry for being depriving of that beautiful face''

''Oh, fuck yourself'', he says, angrily.

''If you watch''

You smirched at his expression as he looks up to you, after seeing your face, he turns away.

''Watch your words, brat''

''Or what, old man? What will you do to me?''

He looks back up at you.

''I could break you habit of drinking coffee, put you to clean all the HQ or even to help Hange with the experiments. The three together seems good, by the way''

You roll your eyes.

''You're mean''

'You're annoying'', he replied. ''And you know, if you keep rolling your eyes one day their going to get stuck like that''

''Are you trying to be funny?''

His little grin showed up making you roll eyes into a smile. He was terribly bossy and annoying, but you like that about him.

You took the glass of wine to your lips and raised your eyes to hit his. Levi hovered over you, making you felt that flame into your heart once more. Your eyes tailed down to Levi's lips then back to his eyes. You could feel your heart beating recklessly.

Fucking grey eyes, fucking black suit. Fuck you!

You felt a thumb on your cheeks, making them burn.

''You look...'', he started whispered and slightly caress your cheeks. Your body started to get hot under his soft touch. ''... beautiful. You look beautiful''

You were speechless.

You liked the sudden ardor, of the dangerous attraction, of folly and frivolous with provocative sins. Liked and thought how the taste of his lips would be: the indomitable, the irresistible, the powerful and sin.

He slowly dragged his hand down to my thorax wrapping his hands around it. A soft gasp escaped of your lips.

''You know... If you want dance, it'll not rude to ask'', you try to say. ''The song is awful, but I'm not a demanding partner''

''Only if you don’t step on my foot''

His prepotency make you smile.

''Don’t be a bad partner and there will be no mistakes'', you retorted, making him raised one of the eyebrows. ''That's how a men should behave next to a woman''

He took you in his arms, abruptly, making the bodies collide with intensity. You gasped, very close to Levi's ears, who felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. Leading you through music, in no second was the look averted, in a battle for unknown control.

You and Levi explored a unique experience.

He stares burned deep into your body. His touch on your skin made your body tingle.

Fuck, control yourself. Don't get turned on by him!

He didn't say anything, just left you hold into him. You could feel your body burning around him. What was he doing to you? It felt like a spell. The effect of sin, of desire. You should get rid of that, all you needed least were distractions in the workplace and ruin the friendship, trust and partnership that you two took so long to build.

However, both keep looking to each other longer than friends should. Longer than friends should...

He could saw you lost inside your mind. Slowly, he pulled down his fingers, lazily touching the skin of your exposed back by the dress. Levi's vision was blinded by the desire his image represented. The surroundings smelled wine and fruits, intoxicating his sense. The ears, doomed to hear the political bullshit. His tact could burn by touching you. His taste? It was dangerous, because wanted to discover the taste of your lips and body.

But not now, not here.

You are his friend — the only who was left. In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he knew the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.

To hell all of that. When you both got back, he'll fucked you, every way that he can thinking off. He wants to pound into you, slammed into you and give the best night that you ever have. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.

''Good girl'', he whispers next to your ears. ''But I'll show you how true men should behave next to a woman when we get back''

#aot x reader #attack on titan imagine #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi x you #levi smut #levi ackerman series #attack on titan fanfiction

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thestorycfus · 4 years ago

Text

Behind these two white highway lines

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x gn!Reader

Summary: Erik and Reader always kept some distance, but they get a better glimpse of each other when they are tasked with bringing a new mutant to the school. The teen doesn’t like being a mutant, but Erik and Reader help him see the bright side of his identity.

Warnings and notes: This is a very self indulgent and obvious metaphor to how lonely it feels to be ‘the only one different’, and it’s not nearly as well written as it should be. There’s mentions of family discrimination, feelings of isolation, self-doubt and a journey to acceptance. But just... Not well written, for real. Other X-Men (First Class generation) are mentioned.

Word count: 2,641

Masterlist

Erik Lehnsherr was quite a mystery to you. He was close to Charles and Raven, and he was great at training with the kids, but you had never even had a full conversation with Erik. Even though you had gotten to know everyone else in the Institute after it became your home, the metal bender preferred to keep his distance. He wasn’t rude, just… Private, it seemed. Maybe he had something against you, or maybe he was like that with every new mutant. You wouldn’t be able to tell. The guy made you a little nervous, to be honest. He was serious, powerful, strong-willed and, of course, irritatingly handsome too. If he didn’t want to be bothered, the best you could do was let him be.

For months, that was exactly what you did. You kept teaching your classes and working on your powers, while Erik kept doing whatever Erik does. You rarely talked to each other, despite living in the same house. The Institute was always full and always busy, so there was no need for you two to exchange more than a few words, nothing beyond small talk or work-related communication. You still wondered what Lehnsherr was all about, for a while, the quiet balance worked.

The equilibrium started to crack when Charles gave you a mission. He had detected a new mutant, a teenager with human parents living out of state, and it seemed like the kid was having trouble controlling his abilities. The parents were more than grateful when Professor Xavier called and offered to help their son understand and use his power, but they couldn’t drive him to the institute. With everyone else busy, Charles chose you and Erik to bring the kid to the school.

It sounded like a simple task, but you felt nervous all the same. The road trip was a little awkward, but overall uneventful, with you driving there so Lehnsherr could drive on the way back. As far as you were told, the kid would be ready to go as soon as you arrived. You both got out of the car and Erik rang the doorbell, always keeping a safe distance from you, as if you were about to bite him. You tried not to role your eyes, focusing on your most welcoming smile – very important when meeting a student and their family. The door opened to reveal a fidgety mother, who looked at you and Erik as if you were a miracle.

“I am so glad you are here, we don’t know what else to do. I’m Christine Johnson. Please, come in.”

At the same time, you heard shouting coming from upstairs, with a distinct scream of ‘I am NOT going to that freak show’, followed by the bang of a door closing. You and Erik exchanged a look before introducing yourselves and following Mrs. Johnson to the living room. Nobody had informed the school of it, but you were more than familiar with that sort of conflict. Being a mutant wasn’t always easy, and being a mutant teenager with a bunch of human friends and relatives was a mess, most of the times.

“Please, make yourselves at home. I will go get Jay, we will be ready in just a minute.” Mrs. Johnson said, looking towards the stairs and back to you and Erik. Before she could leave, you took a step forward.

“Maybe we could talk to him first? He might feel more comfortable if he gets to know us a bit before leaving.” You offered, only then remembering to give Erik a glance. He nodded discreetly, ready to follow you. There was a tension on him that you weren’t used to witnessing, but you couldn’t wonder about that now. This kid needed guidance and support, and that was the reason you went to the Institute in the first place. Mutant kids deserved better than what the world usually offered them, and the X mansion was their best opportunity to have that.

“That is very kind of you, Professor, if you don’t mind trying… Come upstairs, he’s in his room.”

You both followed Mrs. Johnson to the hall of the second floor, where her husband was pilling up bags. She called him to help with the something in the kitchen and they practically run downstairs, in an obvious attempt to not be a part of the conversation. You took a deep breath, not wishing to lose your temper, but the way the parents seemed desperate to get rid of the problem made your blood boil. To your surprise, it was Erik who knocked on the bedroom door.

“Hello, Jay. I’m Erik. I am here with my colleague Y/N. We would like to talk to you for a minute, if that is okay.”

There was silence for a moment. Erik beside you in the narrow hall, more serious than you had ever seen him. You watched his expression get lighter when he heard the doorknob click. Jay opened the door and stared at the two strangers with childish curiosity, but quickly looked away and went back inside his room. He sat at the bed, absent mindedly playing with a ring of old keys in his hands.

“It’s nothing personal, but I won’t be going to your school. I already told my parents, if they want me to leave, I’ll just move in with my friend until I get a job. His parents said it’s all good. Sorry you had to drive all the way here for nothing, though.”

His tone broke your heart. You had heard it so many times before, seen so many scared kids who were tired of sticking out, terrified because the people supposed to love them the most just saw them as an issue to fix. You and Erik walked into the room together and you sat down on the floor, leaning against the bedside table. Jay’s eyes scanned you as if you were about to shoot lasers at him – and for all he knew, maybe you were – and even you were surprised when Erik followed you, sitting on the carpet too.

“Let’s start from the beginning. I’m Professor Y/N L/N and I work at the Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, which, as you might know, is home to many mutants, including myself and…” You gestured to Erik, who took your cue.

“I’m Erik Lehnsherr, also a Professor at Xavier’s and also a mutant. If you do not wish to join us, that is perfectly fine, but you could at least hear us out first. You know, to compensate for the long drive.” He opened his right hand, and Jay’s ring of keys came flying towards him, floating just above his palm.

You smiled at the way Jay stared, looking so lost, but also as if he had just been found. He looked so young, so starved for some understanding… Erik’s approach was a bit on the nose, but it was worth a try.

Since you entered the room, you had spotted the few plants that decorated the room, including a succulent on the table next to you. You reached up and grabbed it, touching the delicate flower that was just beginning to appear on top of it. At your touch, the flower grew, opening up in yellow and orange tones. Jay’s eyes went from you to Erik and back to you.

“What do you even do in there, though? I bet you’re not studying chemistry or something.”

You chuckled at that, and Erik had big grin when he answered.

“You would be surprised. Just because someone is blue, doesn’t mean they aren’t a science genius.”

“Blue as in sad or blue as in… Blue?” Jay probably sounded more invested than he intended to.

“Blue as in blue. Dr McCoy is a biochemistry expert, and he can also take down all three of us in a fight at the same time with very little effort. And he is blue, but he’s not the only one at that.” You explained, amused to see the kid look so curious.

“Actually, Hank couldn’t take me down unless the fight took place in a plastic prison, and even then it would be a close call.” Lehnsherr feigned offense, and you chuckled again. It was nice to see him being so casual and playful.

“No, it wouldn’t, but I won’t insist on that topic.” You turned back to the kid with a soft smile, while making a couple more flowers appear in the plant you were holding. “There’s a lot to discover at the school. You don’t have to stay there forever, but you could meet everyone, take a few classes and see if you like the place.”

“Sounds like all of you have everything figured out, uh?” As Jay spoke, a small flame emerged from his fingers, and he threw it from one hand to the other. “I’m not that good at keeping this under control.” There was a challenge in his eyes, as if he doubted that the school would be able to handle his abilities, even though you were used to students with powers way more complicated.

“Controlling all the metal near you isn’t as simple as it may seem. Most mutants are not in control of their powers when they first appear, but we can develop our abilities to degrees you can’t even dream of, Jay. That’s the reason Charles found the school in the first place – so all mutants can be safe and proud. I used to believe I was alone until he found me, and I was almost lost in my anger. The others allowed me to see that there is more than just one path for us.” Erik answered, making the keys fly back to their owner. Jay extinguished the flame and caught the keys midair. He remained in silence, so you continued Erik’s speech. Everything he had said really resonated with you, making you even more certain of the point you wanted to get across.

“You may make fire, but we have a guy who turns into and produces ice, a lady who can literally control the weather, some laser-shooters and a few telepaths and the list goes on. Even a seemly harmless mutation can be trouble, like when I have a nightmare and break the floor with tree roots growing out of nowhere, and the scariest powers can save all of us very often.” You felt Lehnsherr’s eyes on you, but you focused on Jay. You thought of how tiny you felt before you knew of others like you, remembering the desperation of dealing with a part of yourself that nobody around you could know, because they would never have to handle something similar. Until you were surrounded by other mutants, you were never able to allow yourself to just be.

“We know how hard it is to be the only one that is different. Pardon my language, but it royally sucks, doesn’t it? It gets lonely and terrifying, and it seems like there’s not a single person in your life that can understand. But we do. We have all been through it, one way or the other, and it gets much easier and much more fun when you have a community, if you’re willing to give us a chance.” The honesty in your words was undeniable. Even though no two mutants were the same, and each of the residents of the X Mansion had their own past and their identities, with the x gene being just one aspect of who they were, finding your community had being freeing in ways you didn’t even know you needed. There were still many barriers to face, and a lot of grief for everything that couldn’t be. It wasn’t fair, and it still hurt, but it didn’t hurt after you became more comfortable in yourself. The love you had for every mutant in the institute and the bonds you created made you see yourself in a brand new light, and you had seem the same magic happen to many others. You hoped it would happen to Jay too.

“I’m not just talking of making the burden less heavy. I’m talking of honestly understanding that there isn’t a burden at all. Even if I said I was proud of myself, I wasn’t really happy to be me until I was with the others. Now, when I say I’m a mutant and proud, I mean it. I know how strong, how amazing, how brilliant we are, and I’d never change a thing. I wish the world wasn’t as tough on us, I wish we didn’t have to be strong, but kid, I’m really thankful and proud to say that we can take it, and we’re worth standing up for and celebrating.” You finally stopped talking, feeling a bit self conscious about how much you had said, but opening up was worth it if it gave Jay a better chance of experience those changes. Before you could say more, though, Erik spoke again.

“I had an entire mutant pride speech ready, but I believe Y/N spoke for us both on what really matters here. Give it a try. If the school isn’t for you, you can come back to your friend’s house with some interesting stories.” You smiled at his words, waiting for Jay’s answer.

“Will someone drive me back here if I don’t stay or do I have to find a new ride?” The kid was already getting up and collecting stuff around the room. Erik stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up too and smiling at him.

“Maybe our teleport guy will be back by then. We usually take the road when we’re inviting a new student, but we’ll figure something out.” Erik replied, which gained him an impressed look from Jay.

“Of course there’s a teleport guy. You could have lead with that.” He continued gathering his belongings but, besides the plants, there wasn’t a lot more to pack. Most of the stuff was already in the bags in hall. Jay arranged most of the plants in a metal shelf so they would be easier to carry, but he shook his head when you tried to hand him the succulent in your left hand. “You keep that one. She likes you.”

You nodded, turning around to leave the room and help bring the bags to the car. Only then you noticed that you were still holding Erik’s hand. You let your hand fall, but the two of you didn’t stand so distant to each other now. All three mutants walked out of the room and divided the bags among you, with Lehnsherr showing off and making every metal object float to the front door. Once everything was in the car, Jay went to talk to his parents. There were tears and goodbyes and promises of behaving, but you and Erik stayed outside to give the family some privacy. The Johnsons might not be the best parents a mutant could get, but they were still Jay’s mom and dad, and the process would be important for him.

While you two waited, you decided to break the silence.

“Turns out we can make a good team, Lehnsherr.”

“Wait to see if the kid comes running back home when he sees Alex explode something before you start to boast.”

“Oh, shut up. Alex will be his favorite.”

“Yeah, he will. And we do make a good team.”

The conversation was cut short when the Johnsons came out of the door, with Mrs. Johnson hugging Jay. You and Erik promised to take care of him and finally got in the car. The ride back to the institute was a little less awkward and silent, even though the kid fell asleep in half an hour. You could definitely count that day as a win.

#erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #x men #marvel #erik lehnsherr imagine #erik lehnsherr m #marvel m #x men m #m

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dracosaurusrex · 4 years ago

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i love ur writing!!! can u maybe do a hc where its post war! draco x reader where they get married right, then reader gets pregnant with scorpius!! and its like them taking care of him, seeing him growing up and sending him off to hogwarts etc etc yk? also u dont have to do this ofc 🤍!!

Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) 🌱 - Headcanon

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Hi nonnie!! I’m sorry it took me a while to get to this. Besides being occupied with schoolwork, I thoroughly had to think about how Draco would be as a father. I hope you enjoy!! It’s a lil long too aha.

PS. Kudos to you if you know where the title comes from aha

When Draco found out you were pregnant, there was no containment to the pure joy he had felt in the moment

Tears of joy brimmed his eyes

Crushing embraces

Playful kisses transitioned to more passionate ones as he poured out his love for you

Despite the years following the end of the war, he still didn’t feel deserving of you

Furthermore, he didn’t feel deserving of parenting a child with you

But one thing he was certain of was that he didn’t want to be anything like his father.

The very thought chilled him and struck fear to his bones

“Draco, you’ll make a great father” you say constantly. Each time you do so wrapping him in a warm embrace

It surprised you seeing him cry for the first time as he cradled your growing bump

“Do you think he can hear me?” He’d ask

You nodding as you wiped the tears rolling down his face

“I don’t want him to grow up like I did.”

“Love, we wouldn’t be here if you didn’t go through any of it.”

More silent tears and kisses to your bump

“I’ll do my best for you and your mother, I promise.”

Him kissing your bump one last time

“We’ll do our best for each other” you reassure

-🌱-

There’s no end to him showing you how much he loves you.

The morning sickness, weird cravings, the aches and pains—this man spoiled you and made sure you were comfortable as much as possible

Happy wife = happy life

You both taking turns to tell the baby in your womb stories

Draco playing the piano with you and the baby by his side

You’d be cuddling as you both thought of names

Him opting to follow Black tradition and use names from constellations

“If it’s a girl, it should be Maia Altair. Both are the brightest stars within their respective constellations.” He said.

“How about Lyra Celeste?”

“That’s pretty too. Goodness, I hope it’s not a girl. We’d have a hard time choosing.” He says jokingly, making you chuckle.

“How about for a boy?” You ask

“I was thinking along the lines of Scorpius... I can’t seem to think up of a middle name”

“How about Hyperion?”

“Scorpius Hyperion?” His eyes widened for a moment, “That’s perfect.”

He didn’t mind whether you’d give birth to a boy or a girl—he wanted to give his children the best whether that’d be values, or material possessions

-🌱-

Being a private family meant a gender reveal and baby shower with just the two of you.

You hand the photo of the ultrasound to him faced down

“We’re having a boy, Draco.”

Hearts pounding.

Smiles wide

Draco’s sight was transfixed on the small formation printed on the page for a bit before looking at you again

The moment reminded you of the first time you said “I love you” to one another

He presses a tender loving kiss to your lips as you wrap your arms around his torso.

The next couple of months pass quickly

Life is still happy coz wife is still happy

There’s look comprising fear and awe when Draco laid his eyes on the newborn baby boy in your arms

“May I hold him?”

You hand Scorpius to him with tears in your eyes

Scorpius being so small that he doesn’t even occupy half of Draco’s forearm

“Welcome Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, my son” He says softly, tears following soon after yours did

-🌱-

Raising Scorpius was similar to walking on a tightrope, but even if you both fell at times, it was never hard enough to keep you down

He was a sweet boy, an obedient son

He took after Draco’s appearance: platinum hair, pointed face, and he sported a warm pair of grey eyes

But he bore your kind and compassionate personality, which Draco adored

Regardless of how much of your personality he inherited, Scorpius still had his father’s attitude sometimes, much to your amusement and shock

Draco spoiling him throughout his youth

You dressing Scorpius up

Both of you teaching the boy human decency towards witches, wizards, and muggles alike

One thing Draco made certain as a father was to make sure that Scorpius knew he was welcome to talk to his parents about anything

While you’d speak of matters of the heart, Draco would do his best to speak on matters of logic and reasoning

No matter what, you did your very best to make known to the young Malfoy that he was loved.

-🌱-

Time spent together as a family occupied the best memories of your lives

While Scorpius was growing and learning new things, you and Draco were learning (and growing) alongside him

When he was five years old, having finished his daily lessons, he walked amongst the vast halls of the mansion, knowing exactly where his parents would be

First checks the library to find Draco focused in his study

“Papa?” He calls out with a small voice

“Yes Scorp? Have you finished your studies for today?”

“Yes, father. May I sit with you?”

That was the day that Draco introduced his own passions to his son.

The little boy on his lap looks at the book in front of him with awe as Draco tells him stories of constellations and alchemy

“That’s how we named you.”

“My name is Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!” The sound of pride ringing from his little voice strikes a chord in Draco’s heart

He kisses the top of his head

“Yes, we’re are Malfoy’s”

“And mama?”

“Mama, is Y/N Y/M/N Malfoy.” He says with his heart fluttering.

The sound of your name never fails to reduce his insides to mush.

He then removes himself to find you painting the white peacocks that scattered the lawn

“Mama, what are you doing?”

“I’m painting love. Do you want to see?” You kiss his cheek as you gather him into your arms to give him a view of your work

“I want to learn how to do that!”

“And what is it would you like to paint first?”

“The skies in papa’s books!”

-🌱-

As much as possible, you hid small arguments and issues from Scorpius

You and Draco had established three rules when confronting road bumps in your marriage:

Communicate needs and feelings

Give one another space when needed

Never go to bed with issues unresolved

The openness you taught your son, would be put into practice between you both

Fortunately, you being with Draco for more than ten years meant that you’ve practically seen him at his lowest points

He learned how to be vulnerable to you, and was your shoulder to cry on when needed

Nevertheless, each issue was resolved with a kiss, and something a little more *wink wink* (Scorpius would already be in bed dw)

Draco would catch himself staring at you in the kitchen one day, feeling the same way he would when he’d stare at you in your potions class

The smile you give when you notice him never changed

Scorpius taking note of this calls his dad out

“Papa, why do you love mama?”

“She’s my best friend, Scorpius.”

“I love mama too!”

You were the rock to your little family of three, and the older man would wonder how he became so lucky every time he thought about it.

-🌱-

Time flew by real fast in the manor. Before you know it, Scorpius turned eleven, and received his letter to Hogwarts

Robes? Check

Books? Check

Quills? Parchment? Check

Cauldron and other items? Check

Excited and nervous Scorpius Malfoy? Check.

“Papa, mama, what if no one likes me?”

Draco takes the first and last say before you can even open your mouth

“Just be yourself Scorp, and you’ll be fine.”

The platform bustling with sounds of old and new students alike

You see the Potter’s and the Weasley’s from afar and give a small wave

Draco, acting like a git, only gives a nod when you nudge his side with your elbow

Scorpius is the first to move away from his father’s side to introduce himself

“Hi! I’m Scorpius Malfoy!” He says with a toothy grin

Albus’s eyes sparkle at a new friend, “I’m Albus Potter! This is Rose Weasley! We’re both first years!”

“Me too! Can I sit with you on the train?”

The exchange throws both Harry and Draco into a spiral, leaving you, Ginny, and Hermione thoroughly amused for the day.

“Albus- he”,

“S-Scor-”

Both fathers are ignored.

But the happy grins they see on their sons faces calms them down slightly

The time comes for the train to take off

Draco wraps his arms around you as you wipe the tears forming

It was a miracle that the little boy grew up to be a kind, intelligent, and talented young man.

In that moment, Draco has never felt so grateful for his family

I apologize for the length. It’s kinda chaotic, but I hope you enjoyed reading it hehe. Thank you so much for all your support!

Tagging:

@amithatemo @littlethie @drxcomvlfx @svturtles @stretchyice @xoxohollands @dracosathenaeum @hahee154hq @mushi98 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @beiahadid @Saby06143 @rottenhexrt

#draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagines

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thesims4blogger · 3 years ago

Photo

The Sims 4: New Game Patch (September 7th, 2021)

There’s a new Sims 4 update available for PC/Mac and Consoles.

PC: 1.79.93.1030 / Mac: 1.79.93.1230 / Console: Version 1.47

Remove all MODS and Custom Content before updating your game

Hello Simmers!

We hope you are well wherever you are in the World.

Along with these enhancements, we were also able to fix a few issues that were live and needed some care.

Thanks again for your continued support and feedback!

Chaus!

-SimGuruRusskii

What’s New?

Spa Day Updates

Everyone deserves more time to refresh and more ways to renew! In this update, we added the following:

Three new Aspirations and a new Trait

The path to wellness is long but well worth it! Sims can now opt for three aspirational paths to achieve their own Zen:

Self-Care Specialists – For those Sims who would like to monetize their love of fitness and wellness.

Inner Peace – For the Sims that want to achieve ultimate harmony and learning tools to mitigate their negative emotions.

Zen Guru – For the Sims that want to share the power of wellness with the world…the whole world, for real. They also focus on seeking to train their successor to pass the knowledge along.

You can find these new Aspirations and the new Trait in Create A Sim. And don’t forget the Spa Membership included with these Aspirations – it’s a steal!

Manicures and Pedicures

Some people like having a massage to decompress – a valid option… pretty sure I need one – but my favorite thing is manicures and pedicures! Hear me out! There is something so relaxing about choosing your design, color, shape, and having someone prettify (yes, it is a word… to me) your nails with the utmost care. Now your Sims can get these nail enhancements or graciously give them to other Sims. You can choose a design, a shape, and voilà! Your Sims’ nails will be as fabulous as they feel!

And if you don’t want to get your nails done by a professional- tight budget, totally get it – Sims will have access to the same options in Create A Sim that you can instantly apply to your Sims nails – it’s like insta nails!! You can pick from a variety of swatches with color combinations, designs, or just a solid color for each fingernail. You can also choose a variety of one solid color choices for your Toenails. You can find them in the Accessories category in Create A Sim, where you will see a Fingernails and Toenails sort with the options.

About Yoga and Meditation

New Objects, Facial Masks… Oh my!

Base Game Updates

Bug Fixes

Consoles

We fixed an issue in which some of the controls when players are in the Game Options menus were a little off, it should work correctly now.

The Sims 4

We fixed an issue that affected Custom Content Chairs that when slotted with certain objects it created Sims routing issues.

Sometimes, in certain saves, Sims would lose their names when visiting some Lots – most notoriously the Goth’s Lot but it could happen anywhere. If a Sim has no name… does that Sim exist? I can assure you that the Goths were not involved, but this issue should no longer occur.

We fixed an issue in which the Mega Window (Double Budget Grand Deluxe DeLite) in build Mode was missing a few swatches and displayed them as empty.

Get to Work

The hairstyle yfHair_EP01TwistLow has been tagged correctly in the Updo Hairstyle category. Is it still an Updo even if the bun is low and not up high? These are the questions I ponder sometimes.

Eco Lifestyle

If you noticed the Community Voting Board missing from venues across packs in Build Mode, never fear. It has been found and should be safely back in Build Mode.

Dream House Decorator

#news #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 update #sims 4 game patch

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago

Note

Hey I read your oxygen loss scenarios and I absolutely loved them, even if they made me really sad at first, but I still love them entirely! If you're still doing them, could you do one with Fort Max?

Thanks a bunch! Angst with a happy ending is kind of my favorite thing in the world, so I'm glad others feel the same! It absolutely works well with our big Maxy boy!

Here's the other posts for this prompt!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: You're Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Fort Max

·Somehow, he's fallen for a being so small they fit in his cupped palms, and yet the two of you fit together so well he can't complain. Though he's a tad bit overprotective, you don't mind at all, and understand what drives the behavior even if he doesn't say it. What matters is that he's improving, and adores you so much every little activity is better in his mind when done with you, even just chilling and managing his security reports. That's why you're on his desk at the moment, relaxing on the human sized furniture he occasionally uses as paperweights when you're not around. Every so often you'll look up and find him glancing your way with a loving expression just visible through his attempt to remain neutral, after which point he'll dart his optics back to his work and pretend he's been busy the whole time. You can't help but think you're the reason he can't get much done.

·In addition to his filing reports, he has his monitors open at all times, each of which feeds him the security information for the various sections and systems of the ship. Most of the time there's nothing to report, save for hijinks going wrong or an experiment accidentally knocking things offline, yet he's always quick to respond. The rapid reactions to potential threats has put him on surprisingly good terms with Red Alert. Thus you're none too alarmed when he sees something unusual on one data feed and immediately gets to investigating, his large digits tapping away for answers while he vocalizes his thought process. Curious as always as to what might be the source of the issue, you move in wordlessly and are placed on his shoulder without having to ask. Having you watch him work always makes him feel quite proud after all.

·Initially the issue appears to be a simple bug in the programming of the communication systems, an inconvenient but none too hard to fix dilemma. Seeking out the source however, he finds none of the expected signs of an internal miscalculation, and before you can ask what's wrong he's messaging the bridge with a full alert. You listen as an audibly erratic signal forces him to keep things brief; emergency defense units and protocols need to be scrambled now, the ship is suffering an encrypted hack and a physical assault is undoubtedly inbound. While you feel instinctive fear at every word, somehow being in his presence and seeing him take command lessens that to a remarkable extent, for not much can get through your partner when he's on alert. Unfortunately for him he's anything but unafraid.

·When the line inevitably goes dead, he actually struggles to recall the next phase of his crisis response plans, as having you right beside him makes doing anything but protecting his delicate partner seem insignificant. Only by reminding himself that protecting you requires him to protect the ship is he able to get moving. Double checking your position on his shoulder, he clarifies that you'll be going to the nearest secure zone before he heads off to check various rendezvous points, as the crew is trained for this and the silent alarm has already been triggered. As you settle in on the broad expanse beside his helm, he just manages to grab the last of his spare weapons before a cataclysmic tremor rocks the ship. An audible rumbling through the ship blocks out all sound as you briefly tumble through the air.

·Catching you in a mad dash, he bombards you with questions as to possible injuries before you can clarify that you're fine. Tragically the relief on his face isn't something you get to enjoy for long. A second metallic rumble through the Lost Light turns his expression to a scowl. The enemy must have snagged them with a kind of anchor, he surmises, which no doubt means they'll be boarding in very short order. He needs to get you out of here now. Knowing that high stress situations can exhaust him in ways he's still not used to, you hold one of his digits tightly from your place on his palm. You're ready, you assure him, and you know he's going to be just fine. It works in the smallest way. The two of you draw strength from shared reassuring smiles before he leaves the safety of his office to start moving.

·As usual, he's not really afraid for his own sake as he moves through the hallways, due in no small part to his massive size and strength. For you though, he has to at least admit to himself that he's terrified. Hearing and feeling the tremor as intensely as he did means it must have come from somewhere uncomfortably close by, and that means the likelihood of encountering a threat in the next few minutes was remarkably high. The intensity of Cybertronian combat made such an occurrence not unlikely to be fatal for squishy little you. Yet as he recalls the closest potential drop off spot he can secure you at, he can't help but think on his role as a protector of this ship and how his responsibilities seem divided at the moment. While he has to keep you from harm, the same is true of the crew, and he can hardly ensure your safety if the ship is compromised...

·The decision to take the route he settles on is one not made easily, but it still feels proper. By going a less direct way he can check on multiple key locations only a little out of the way, helping to ensure that protocol is being followed and that the enemy isn't overwhelming their defenses. He can get you somewhere safe, while protecting you and the rest of the crew at once. It doesn't feel ideal, but he has to do his job, right? You can't be safe without the ship, unlike a Cybertronian who can at least endure the vacuum of space and even has a fair chance of surviving a planets fiery atmosphere... Primus, he can't handle thinking about those things. Focusing on getting you to safety along with everyone else is what he has to think of instead, especially with the sensation of your tiny body so warm and delicate in his palm, which he tries to also draw comfort from.

·As you trust him above all else, you don't ask any questions as he moves through the ship, sneaking as much as a bot of his size can in the open hallways. You're hardly scared for your own sake with Fort Max holding you close to his spark. In fact, the world beyond doesn't seem scary at all from this perspective. Being such a massive bot equals out to a rather strong spark, and as close to it as you are, you can feel it humming even now. It's kind of like a miniature sun with how warm and alive it makes you feel. Silly as it sounds, you do believe it feels stronger than when you first met him, as if the healing he's done since has made his very spirit grow brighter. For the sake of that hard earned recovery you hope everything goes smoothly today. It's enough to make you hold on to him a little tighter, just to convey your support.

·Eons of training prevent him from being taken by surprise, but he feels far from prepared as he detects enemy movement down a hallway. The aliens are large, numerous, and well armed. Regardless of their intent to take prisoners, he knows he can't let them go, as the mere possibility of them hurting even a single being on this ship is too much for him to take. Knowing they have to be taken care of is unfortunate with you in his care, as he doesn't want you to see him in combat. But... he trusts himself enough not to take it too far, a realization that makes it easier for him to whisper a warning and secure you in a tiny maintenance hatch, from which you will be safe and hopefully won't observe much. As soon as you promise to stay put he takes off to end the threat as quickly as he can.

·From your spot the chaos of battle is mostly the noises that reach your ears, but through them you're still able to recognize Fort Max as the imminent victor, if only because the fight is so one sided he hardly has to make a sound. It still makes you curl up in the little shelter and hope for it to be over as soon as possible. Yet the darkness of the maintenance shaft makes worrying a tad bit difficult... in fact, it makes you oddly tired. Exhaustion you didn't even notice is suddenly weighing you down, making the battle seem so far away and insignificant, all despite how clearly you realize now isn't the time to sleep. Perhaps the rush of all this has simply worn you down?

·Max finishes off the batch of enemies quickly and without a trace of the usual thrill of battle. He doesn't want to enjoy combat the way he once did, or feel the way he used to when he was at his worst and tearing foes apart actually felt good... As soon as the last enemy is down he returns to you, actually thinking he made the right call for once in checking key locations like this, for now this batch won't be able to hurt anyone. Though his usual luck shows through when he returns and finds you extremely groggy, to the point that even as a bot without medical experience he knows something is wrong, and he scoops you up immediately to start looking for injuries. You react amicably to his concern and assure him you're fine, but your breathless tone gives away that something is obviously affecting your respiration. In a series of horrifying realizations he connects the dots.

·The ship being hacked must have affected everything, including the life support systems you need for the air to be breathable, which he should have considered as a possibility from the very beginning. Without a moment to spare, he tucks you close to his chest and charges towards the medical bay. It's painfully obvious to him now that he made the wrong decision. He should have prioritized you over everything, should have anticipated there being additional threats, should have done a million other things... Hearing your weak reassurance only makes it hurt more. Unable to comprehend what's going on and not getting anything from him but whispered apologies, you just try to stay awake to support him as he runs through the ship at full speed. The only thing that stops him is an ambush from a full legion of enemies, though thankfully he still has enough of a grip to shelter you when the energy weapons start firing. Your tiny form is shielded by the impenetrable armor of his curled body as he briefly retreats to secure you once again, but this time his charge into combat is anything but controlled.

·From a little cubby you watch him unleash total vengeance on a horde of unprepared combatants, his incredible strength reducing enemy weapons and bodies to shreds without a trace of hesitation. Yet as you slip from consciousness there's no fear in your heart. Only sadness, for his sake and your own, as his resurfaced trauma tears into him yet again. It's worse than that though, he blames himself almost more than the enemies he tears apart, because protecting you was supposed to be his job. He'd told himself you needed the ship secure to be safe, but had he even considered the air you needed to breathe? It should have been obvious. Fighting somehow dulls the pain, as if the little rush of every kill helps his processor subdue the ache, and as the enemy needs to die regardless for their crimes against you he doesn't hesitate to go all in. The heated blur of battle overtakes him so completely he almost doesn't realize when he's joined by backup Autobots on his security team until there's not an enemy left to kill.

·Your last conscious perception is his face as strong hands lift you gently, followed by muffled instructions to get you to the medical bay. Some part of you knows he won't rest until every threat on the ship is dealt with, and you're correct. As you're whisked away to the medical bay, he takes no prisoners as he initiates his defense, rallying the gathering bots to annihilate those who would have turned them into a quick profit. But with every blow, he can only think of you. As he's cheered on by his fellows, he can only think of you. At the final declaration of victory and the rebooting of the systems, he can only think of you... Not even knowing the medics saved you and that you'll fully recover assuages his guilt. If anything, as he washes the blood off his servos and forgoes the festivities to sit by your bedside, he's certain he's never felt more like a monster...

·When you wake up there's a lovely warmth all around you, coupled with a gentle hum through the air that you know has been there in the past. Open eyes let you see a familiar wall of a chest, and through the oxygen mask you happily whisper Fort Max's name, making the hulking bot twitch in surprise as he looks down to you. It's with a smile you realize he was dozing with you shielded beneath his tented form. Remembering the haze of chaos and danger, you reach out to him as he offers a gentle hand to adjust the blankets laid loosely over your small body, but despite the fact that you're both okay you only see sadness in his optics. At your first prompt he lightly deflects with a sad smile. At your second his face falls and the whole ordeal comes tumbling out of him, with particular emphasis on how he failed to protect you when it truly mattered, something that impacts him so greatly he sheds a few tears as he lays his head in his hand.

·Heart breaking at the sight, you quickly point out the multiple times he charged into battle for you, though he counters by recalling how savagely he killed his enemies in front of you. It was the kind of brutality he'd thought himself beyond, but if he isn't, how can he be safe for you? It takes all the strength you have to sit up and firmly request his attention. At what point, you ask, were any of his actions not in some way motivated by the greater good? Even if he didn't know everything that was going to happen, did he once abandon you? Of course not, because he's a good bot, and you know he is. Before he can bring up one more point about his perceived failure you remind him that he's come impossibly far, enough that no setback today could undo his progress, and that you're so proud of him. As the weakness forces you to lie back and he leans in with concern, you smile and point out that everything he's done has been to the benefit of others, whether it be you or the crew. For once he can't argue. Curling protectively around you once more, he decides to let himself be happy that you're safe, shaken but reassured by your faith in him. More than anything, it gives him faith in himself.

#transformers #maccadam #idw #lost light #ll #tf #mtmte #more than meets the eye #fort max x reader #fortress maximus #fortress maximus x reader #fort max #human reader #self insert #my writing #my asks #anon #prompts

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

Text

Static Shock: Shock to the System and Aftershock Review

“You know what? 13 years ago, me and some friends sat in a restaurant all night and daydreamed about the kinds of stories we would tell if we had the chance. We wanted to expand the concept of superhero to include characters that kind of looked like us, who had some of the same background, experiences and dreams as we did. We wanted to create something fun that a new generation would respond to the same way we responded to our childhood heroes -and damn if we didn't succeed beyond my wildest dreams. Today, Static Shock is a household name with millions of fans of all ages (Is there stuff I'd do differently? Yeah, almost all of season four but why nitpick?) Static is the most successful thing I've ever helped create and I'm both proud and gratified that people have taken it into their hearts. “

Dwayne McDuffie, Co-Creator of Static and Writer for Static Shock

This review is dedicated to Dwayne McDuffie and Robert L. Washington III. Rest In Power Static Shock is awesome. I grew up with the show watching it both first run on the WB and second run on Cartoon Network and loved it as much as I did other large parts of my childhood courtsey of DC like Batman the Animated Series, Teen Titans and both Justice League Shows. What makes this unique among the DC Properties is that Static wasn’t really a big name when he got a show. He wasn’t even part of the DC Universe.

See as I had no idea for probably a good decade, Static actually came from Milestone Comics, a company ran by and focused on african americans. The goal was understandable: While black heroes existed at the time, and there were some fantastic ones like Storm, Jim Rhodes and Steel... these guys weren’t the center of their universes. The big faces of the big companies, Spider-Man, Wolverine, Hulk, Iron Man, Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, The Flash.. were white. So milestone was a shakeup of that with the main teams and heroes all being black, from Icon, an alien who’d lived among man but rather than end up in kansas like say superman ended up imprinting on a slave woman centuries ago and has been with us since, who was encouraged by an energetic teenager named Rocket to put on a costume and do something with his powers and his community, Hardware, a tech genius who had his work stolen by a white asshole and wanted to fight back and BLood Syndicate, a group of gang members all caught in the “The Big Bang”, a huge fight between all of Dakota, the midwest city where the comics take place, that ended when the police released a bunch of experimental gas that gave them all super powers.

As most of you who have watched the show already know, this is where Static comes from. Static was the company making their own Spider-Man, i.e. a nerdy teenager who suddenly gets super powers, in this case Virgil Hawkins who at the prodding of a friend took a gun to The Big Bang to get revenge on a bully. .but ultimately couldn’t go through with it, decided it wasn’t him and got rid of the gun and ran.. and still ended up in it, becoming Static, a young hero dedicated to using his powers to fight other “Bang Babies”.. a term that dosen’t really sound that great and they really should’ve thought through. But Phrasing aside the character was great and I look forward to reading more and only haven’t because I have to buy the issues gradually, but DC is currently re-releasing the individual issues of Static, Icon, and Hardware weekly in anticipation of a reboot of Milestone Coming in May digitally on Comixology at only 2 bucks a pop, and rereleased the original print collections that were long out of print for 10 bucks each, though i’m getting static on it’s own since i’ts really not that much less expensive as it only collects four issues while Icon and Hardware both collect 8, so I can wait a bit there on Hardware and already own Icon: A Hero’s Welcome.. and really need to review it at some point.

While Milestone’s output was good, at least from the two books i’ve read, with Robert Washinton III, who sadly not only ahs also passed but was fucking homeless for a while in the 2000′s.. what the actual hell, writing Static alongside Dwayne McDuffie, whose later moved onto animation writing tons of Static episodes all of them classics including the school shooting episode, the first three rubberbandman episodes and both Anasazi episodes. Point is it had good writers and artists and even had a distrbution deal with DC, so they had a leg up on the glut of other comic book companies.. but happened to start at the start of the comic book crash, a huge downturn in sales in the 90′s as the speculator boom, i.e. a bunch of people assuming every number one would be worth golden and silver age money, forgetting a character has to BUILD INTREST and this stuff takes time, and whose attempts to sell fast flooded the market with comics no one wanted,, caused the roof to cave in and with a bunch of assholes pegging milestone as a “Company for black people” rather than you know, a company trying to add fucking diversity and represntation to the comics industry, and that simply wanted a unvierse that was centered around people of color instead of white guys. The company eventually had to shut down, and was left to lisencing. This is where the show comes in. Producers HAD been trying to make shows based on Milestone for a while, as far back as the mid-90s and the company was was all for it but the closest it got was an x-men style team series using various characters whose first draft was terrible and whose second draft by Alan Burnett, a producer on various DC Animated shows who’d go on to produce Static Shock, that McDuffie and others really liked but sadly did not get picked up. eventually though with presistance Static ended up getting a series and as I said McDuffie went on to write for it though he did not develop it. Some changes went into place naturally to make it work for an early 2000′s kids show and while i’ll probably miss so since again, only read one issue as we go. But due to Milestone coming back my intrest was peaking, hence finally reading the copy of Icon I had to buy from the library years ago due to keeping it overdue but am now EXTREMLEY glad I own as i’ts incredibly rare and really damn good, and wanting to read static, doing so lately since it’s finally on digtiial and again not too expensive. So join me as I give you a shock to the system and revisit this hell of a series to see if it holds up.. which just to cut that short it does and i’m only holding off binging MORE because I want the first two eps to be fresh enough in my head to review properly.. and also go over the various voice actors because that’s a thing with me now and charcter co-creator dwayne mcduffie because he’s awesome.

As I like to do when covering a series first episodes, let’s run down the voice cast.

First up is an UTTER LEGEND, and I use the term voice acting legend a lot, and mean it every time and have good reason to use it when I say it, and Phil LaMarr is a GOD in the buisness, having done a metric ton of voice acting roles, and being easily the most proflific black voice actor in animation. He’s also done some acting work, mostly in pulp fiction which I have not seen, but his true staying power and talent is in animation so here’s just the roles I feel are most notable or may not be very notable but i’m bringing up anyway because it’s my list.

His roles besides Virgil include Lester Payton the Texas Ranger who showed up for one very good episode of king of the hill to be badass and show up the hickish, stupid and very punchable local Sheriff, Gearld’s obnoxious older brother Jamie O on Hey Arnold, Hermes Conrad from futurama, Carver from the Weekenders (PUT IT ON PLUS DISNEY), Axel Foley for exactly one bit in Clerks the Animated Series, but anyone whose seen it will know exactly which one, Micheal on the Proud Family, Black Vulcan on Harvey Birdman (In His Pants), Hector Con Carne and Dracula on Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy and Evil Con Carne, Jack on Samurai Jack something I didn’t know for decades (and I didn’t know about the carver thing till today though i’ts obvious in hindsight), John Motherfucking Stewart on Justice League and later Steel and Adult Static in the Unlimited seasons, Osmosis Jones on Ozzy and Drix, Bolbi Strogofski on Jimmy Neutron (And yes i’m just as shocked as you are.), Wilt on Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, Marcus on Life and Times of Juniper Lee, Bull Sharkowski on My Gym Partner is A Monkey and Also a Sociopath Please Help God My Life is a waking nightmare..... okay the rest of that title is implied but we all watched the same show, we all know in our hearts that was the title

Moving on, he was also, and yes there’s MORE: Maxie Zeus on The Batman, Philly Phil on Class of 3000, Both Robertsons AND Fancy Dan on the Spectacular Spider-Man, Jazz on Transformers Animated, Kit Fisto and Bail Organa on Star Wars the Clone Wars, Gambit and Bolivar Trask on Wolverine and the X-Men, Aquaman I, L-Ron and Green Beetle on Young Justice, J.A.R.V.I.S. and Wonder Man (Simon Williams) In Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, Gabe and Carny on Kaijudo: Rise of the Duel Masters (Really miss that game and have been snapping up what cards I can get lately), Baxter Stockman in the 2012 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (And there’s also an awesome photo of him with 2003 Baxter... the two best together in one place. I got chills), Dormammu (I’ve come to bargin) in various Marvel Shows, Noville in Mighty Magiswords, Zach’s dad Marcus in Milo Muprhy’s Law, Craig’s Douchey Brother Benard on Craig of the Creek, showing he’s clearly come full circle, And Mr. Scully on the Casagrndes. And given It took about two paragraphs to cover all of this, yeah, I MEANT legend.

Next we have Kevin Micheal Richardson as Virgil’s Dad Robert, and it’s the first time since I started introducing Voice Actors on a show that i’ve overlapped. I already covered him during the second episode of legend of the three caballeros, but for the short version he’s also very acomplished, very damn good and I somehow missed he played the old blind guy in hey arnold> Needless to say the dude is awesome.

Virgil’s Sister Sharon is played by Michele Morgan who was in the rap group BWP and did some smaller roles outside of this the one exception being Juicy on the PJ’s, which I have not watched much of but REALLY do not like, though i’ll at least give it credit for being a decently long lasted black claymation sitcom at at time when there were, and hoenstly still aren’t, many black animated shows.

Back to long casting sheets, next up is Jason Marsden, who is one of my faviorites as i’ve realized recently as Ritchie. As I also found out only recently he started on the Sitcom Step By Step and while that show is .. ehhhhhhhhh, he is great in it because he’s great in everything. He also apparently has his own internet variety show which I have to watch now. His roles include Max Goof, ironically given I was just talking about that role a few days ago, Haku in the english dub of Spirted Away, Micheal, the kid being yelled at by a bunch of 80′s cartoons characters not to take drugs in Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue!, Nermal in the DTV Garfield movies and The Garfield Show, Tino on the Weekenders (SERIOUSLY DISNEY), Snapper Carr on Justice League, Rikochet on Mucha Lucha! for the last season (Why I do not knkow and while I love the guy he was not the right choice), Felix on Kim Possible, Chase Young on Xiaolin Showdown (WHich I did not realize was him and now I do easily his best role and I REALLY should’ve), Red Star and Billy Numerous on Teen Titans, Speedy on Batman Brave and the Bold, Impulse/Kid Flash II on Young Justice, and Fingers on Kaijudo. He hasn’t done as much lately which is a shame but hopefully i’tll pick up again.

Next up is Hotstreak, Virgil’s brutal bully turned unhinted pyromancer played by DANIEL COOKSY, another actor i’m happy to talk about and another faviorite I haven’t seen much of lately. Daniel was an actor from childhood, playing Budnick on Salute Your Shorts, but he quickly gained a long and storied catalogue of VA Work: His first big roll was as Montana Max on Tiny Toon Adventures and if there is a god he’ll be back for the reboot, Stoop Kid on Hey Arnold, the incomprable Jack Spicer on Xiaolin Showdown, far and away his best role and part of why Chronicles sucked so bad was he was he didn’t get to reprise the role, The titular Dave the Barbarian, Django of the Dead on El Tigre (Had no idea), Kicks utterly insufferable big Brother Brad on Kick Buttowski and apparently he’s back at it again after laying low for a bit as he’s voicing Snag in Long Gone Gultch.. which I already really needed to watch but hot damn, I missed him. Sign me up.

Frieda, Virgil’s crush and close friend who in the comics was his main confidante and love intrest but here is eventually pushed aside, is voiced by Danica Mckeller whose work didn’t seem all that familiar.. until I found out she was Ms. Martian on Young Justice. Hello, Megan. Very talented and she did get a major role in a dc show eventually so good for her. Can’t wait for season 4.

So with our major players out of the way, let’s talk about Dwayne. McDuffie is an AWESOME man and my respect has grown for him more and more with time. A writer and editor at Marvel, McDuffie has a decent resume doing smaller but awesome books, which I got most of for free last year when Marvel was giving out free digital collections due to the lock down, like Damage Control, a sitcom set in the marvel universe about the company that picks up after superhero battles and the logistics and antics that insue and Dethlok, about a pacfist trapped inside a cyborg zombie. He was as mentioned one of Milestone’s founders, and wrote Icon, Hardware and co-wrote the first few issues of Static. He’d go on to a pretty stacked career in animation, writing on this show and Justice League before becoming story editor and show runner for Unlimited , even making a return to comics as a result writing the Marvel miniseries beyond and an arc of Fantastic Four in which Black Panther and Storm filled in for Reed and Sue while the two of them worked on their marriage after Reed did.. pretty much everything he did in Civil War. He also became head writer and show runner for Ben 10: Alien Force and Ultimate Alien, revamping the franchise a bit, and Alien Force, at least the first two seasons are awesome and I feel people overreacted on the changes. Ultimate Alien is okay, but has it’s problems but the finale was awesome and left the man’s legacy on a high note.. as he sadly passed in 2011 due to heart complications. He is truly missed and produced some utterly amazing stuff whlie he was alive. So on that melacholy note let’s see what happens when his creation hits the tv screen shall we?

Shock to the System:

This episode is written by Christopher Simmons, who is apparently a huge art designer guy.. but i’m not sure that’s the same chirsptoher simmons. Much more notable is the writer of the episode after this Stan Berkowitz, who was showrunner for season 1 and has done a LOT of DCAU work and is suprising talent, having written a lot of awesome Justice League episodes including Secret Society and The Royal Flush One. Point is we’re in first class hands. Before the episode itself I want to talk about the intro and how it’s unique among DCAU shows. Like most Western Animation the intros for DCAU shows didn’t change much over the seasons with the most I can see is JLU changing up the footage to preview the current episode and later adding Hawkgirl to the intro after her return to the team. I THINK superman the animated series changed some of it’s footage too, but I can’t confrim it and may of just been imagining it. As i’ve talked about on my blog it’s normally a pet peeve of mine, mostly because shows you know, change after season 1, characters get added some one shot characters used for the intro never return, and after a while it can feel dated especially in more recent shows where the status quo is not at all set in stone and things change quite a bit. But sometimes it can be good enough that either the dated elements don’t matter or general enough that you don’t need to change it and i’ts just that good.. and given Batman the Animated Series has both in spades, you can see why i’ts probably my golden standard for intros and after superman the animated series DC mostly followed suit. But being part of the teen superhero boom of the 2000′s Static is unique in that it splits the diffrence: It’s intro gets the character across perfectly like a good intro should starting with Virgil getting out of bed and running a comb across his head before showing off to his sister to bug her and literally running into his dad who hand shim his bag and smiles, silently showing off his family. He then runs to school and runs into some trouble.. and said trouble changes for each intro, with Rubberband Man for season 1, Kanga (Whose name I only know because I happened to run across it) for season 2 and your guess is as good as mine for seasons 3 and 4, though Hotstreak is a constant. They still save some money for seasons 1 and 2 by recycling some animation.. but that’s alright with mea s it was good animation, and the improtant thing is cycling out old villians for new ones, while Season 3 is the only out and out redo to show off Richie taking on the Gear identity, adding about 10 seconds of intro to let him show off.�� Seriously it’s an utterly great intro and like the other DCAU intros outside of superman, stuck in my brain.

The other change that’s ENTIRELY diffrent from the rest of htem is that the music changes each time. The first two have the same formula just with a difrent vocalist and backing track: a superhero theme but with some hip hop beat boxing over it. The first intro is fine enough, not specattcular but stilll god. The second song.. is eh. Not really great and feels like a marked downgrade from season 1 and just dosen’t blend an ocrehstiral superhero theme with the beatbox elements NEARLY as well. The third song though is my faviorite.. even if I HATED Little Romeo as a kid because I really did not like his nick show, it’s more a straight up rap song, but it has a faster beat that fits the intro better, and Romeo’s bragging fits Virgil’s character and penchant for Spidey quips perfectly. I also find it ironic that the theme that blends in with the dcau the most, the first season’s, is the one from BEFORE they decided to put it in the same universe. Still this season’s intro slaps, I just like the LIttle Romeo one a bit more. The opening scene is picture perfect. Some masked crooks looting a warehouse are loading some stolen TV’s into a van when suddenly the lights come on one by one above one of the crooks before his tv switches to various channels before going haywire. Cue our heroes’ entrance. Let’s tak ea good look at him

Static’s Costume is awesome. While I prefer the season 3 redesign, and clearly DC agrees as the redeisgn was used for both pre and post new-52 when they used him, and while he’s getting a fresh design for the reboot, said design takes a lot of cures from said outfit. As for how the outfit differs from the comics itself this is the design he had in the comics

It didn’t change much from the first issue, with the exception of his now iconic big puffy jacket which was added pretty early into the character’s history but I was unaware of that and just assumed he had the bodysuit the whole time. The more you know. But as you can see outside of the cool puffy jacket over a costume the two couldn’t be more diffrent. While the Dakotaverse outfit is more a standard superhero outfit, with some regular clothes touches on top the first cartoon outfit comes off more realistic, looking fantastic, but still coming off as something two teenagers could realistically have thrown together with what clothes they could buy, while still looking awesomely superheroy. IN short it’s perfect and only topped by the season 3 onward look...

But the slicker look, with an even cooler jakcet and the new colors all fitting the lighting ascetic better, but fits: not only has Virgil come along farther since he started, but with Richie now having a genius brain as Gear, he can provide a far slicker, far more professional superhero outfit on the budget the two have. This show is just great at costume design.

So getting back to the episode at hand, Static puts up a huge sign in elecrticy saying “Bad guys here”, PFFFT, and then hides away and narrates that a few days ago he’d be the last person anyone would’ve expected to be a hero. Cue Flashback.

We meet Virgil Hawkins on an average day: rapping into his razor, getting into a petty argument with his older sister Sharon, as a younger brother myself I relate to this, and talking to his dad who tries to get them to cut that out. We find out his mom has passed via his sister making really terrible eggs and saying that’s how mom made them. Exposition! Though we do get a great bit through this as when his sister gets distracted by her boyfriend calling, he uses the opportunity of her leaving the room to dump the eggs.. after having earlier jokingly prayed to his mom for a way out of breakfast. “Thanks for looking out for me mom” That’s both very sweet and very hilarious.

This is a change from the comics it turns out as I was utterly flored to find Virgil’s mom alive and well when reading the first issue of Static. Turns out this was a change made during development and one Dwane McDuffie admitted in the interview I got the tribute quote from to not liking as he had a good reason for having Virgil have a nuclear family, as most black families in media at the time were just one single parent and a kid or two with the other having either left or died. He wasn’t too bothered by it as while he preferred what he came up with in the first place, the show DID get some really good stories out of her being gone and didn’t just have her be absent because shut up. Virgil is still working over her death and the way HOW she died ends up playing an important role in this episode and gives Virgil a dislike of guns, as she died to gang violence. So the change wasn’t for stupid or racist reasons, but likely both to keep the character count down while giving them something to work with for storylines. Or it could’ve been for stupid reasons and the writers simpily made lemonade out of that very dumb lemon, either way it ended up working. Virgil also plans to ask his friend Frieda out. Frieda was a bigger deal in the comics, being Virgil’s friend and confidante as well as his ocasional love intrest, but here while she was inteded to at least be his love intrest here, that sorta fizzled out. As for the best friend role we meet her replacement in Richie, which McDuffie conceded was the kind of change a studio would make swapping out a female character for a male one. That being said the crew made the best of it and Richie is awesome, a bit of an overcompensating dipstick at times, but a good sounding board and pal for virgil and funny as hell too. He was also gay, something only revealed post series by McDuffie.. but unlike say Dumbledore, it’s a bit easier to swallow here: The early 2000′s were an even worse time for gay characters in tv let alone cartoons, and if they couldn’t kiss or have sex scenes on regular tv, there was no way we were getting any representation in a children’s show. So it was largely just hinted at by Richie overcompensating in how “into girls” he was and i’m once again fine with this being word of god as it was literally the best they could do and his counterpart in the comics was also gay, if not as relevant. Ritch encourages Virgil to work on his opening to ask her out as it’s awkward as heck, hits a bit close to home.. but I do appricate the show just .. having him try and ask her out from the first episode. They likely would’ve drug thigns out a bit granted had they used Frieda more, i’m not blind to the convetions of the time. .but as someone who got the very wrong idea from tv that just waiting around meant a girl would like you eventually, when no you need to actually try even if rejection happens, I honestly wish we had more of this in media than the other garbage morals at the time.

So he prepares to , not helped by her mentioning guy after guy is asking her out.... but before he can F-Stop, the future hotstreak, shows up. F-STOP

That being said...... it’s not as bad as the original gangster name for the comic’s version, Biz Money B. Yes BIZ MONEY B

So yeah while F-Stop is no more intimidating, it at least means I can stop laughing. Francis, because I can’t type F-Stop without laughing and this review is already behind, shoves Virgil out of the way and agressively hits on Frieda, even saying “you smell good”, the international sign your a douchebag and also to call the police. Virgil steps up to the guy and gets PAINFULLY slammed into the lockers, something I give the animation team a lot of credit for, as you can FEEL how fucking painful that was. Virgil is saved by Wade, another local gangbanger who in the comics was a close friend of Virgils but here saves him seemingly just because.. seemingly.

On the way home though Virg’s problems don’t end as naturally, the giant sized asshole with nothing better to do has his goons corner virgil before VIOLENTLY beating him.. off screen but the noises, and the clear brusies including a black eye, on virgil afterwords.. just holy damn i’m suprsied they got away with this but it shows just how horrifing it was and that this is a step above regular bullying, which make no mistake is absoluttley terrible and the series would later do an episode on it and school shootings, into straight up gang violence. Wade shows up again and gets the bastards to flee.. but also makes it clear he can’t keep doing this.. and forces Virgil to meet him at his base under the bridge. And it’s a tense sequence, with Virgil KNOWING this is a bad idea but having no real choice and Wade making it abundantly clear that he wants Virgil to join his crew, and makes a chilling point: while Virgils dad RIGHTFULLY dosen’t want his son to join a gang as Virgil points out.. he can’t be there for him all the time and eventually one of those times, Francis will be around. And he may not surivive that. Virgil nods noncomittaly. At home it gets even more grim as he dosen’t open up to his family, understandably as his dad would jsut say to call the police and well.. we’ve seen how the police treat black people. At best they’d just try and use Virgil as an informant and that likely wouldn’t end fucking well for Virgil. Ritchie points out he can’t join a gang, virgil’s mom died that way.. see told you it’d be important to the plot.. but I like how the story dosen’t offer an easy answer.. well okay he gets electric powers soon enough but without the fantastic element this is just an innocent kid caught between either joining the very thing his mom hated or hoping a system not built to protect him will keep him alive. It’s utterly saddening and chilling and holy shit is it amazing a cartoon in the early 2000′s was able to get away with.. ANY OF THIS, and they handle it great, paired down a bit from the comics but even then it’s still incredibly balsy they got THIS much in.

Naturally Wade calls in his favor and our hero is forced to come running.. and soon finds out Wade’s brought him in for a massive gang war. Welcome to the big bang, baby. He hands Virgil a gun as things get started and Virgil.. drops the thing and tries to escape, in a harrowing sequence.. and runs into Francis because god apparently REALLY hates this kid today. As if to prove that the police show up and while that prevents a beating, they demand they disassemble. then release untested gas on them because of course they do.

As a result the big bang truly begins, with the various gang members getting mutated.. and naturally so does virgil. Though he wakes up the next day seemingly fine. How’d he get home? Does his dad know where he was?

I don’t know and we’re not getting any answers, but Virgil soon finds weird stuff happening like his clock shorting out, change being attracted to him and his razor going wild. It’s only once he get sback to his room he gets an inkling of what’s going on and calls Ritchie to meet him at the Junk yard.. though it is a bit of a dick move as he dosen’t you know, tell him anything about Wade or Francis right away. He does at the yard though.. and that he has powers, having finally figured out how to use them to a point. And the series does provide a decent justification later as to why he’d get this so quickly: Virgil is a smart kid, gets great grades at school and apparnetly there’s even an episode later where he gets a scholarship to a fancy genius school. So him getting how elctromagntisim works or being a quick study on it makes perfect sense.

Richie suggest the obvious.. to become a superhero. And the thought.. hadn’t occured to Virgil. It’s honestly a nice twist on the old trope. That he hadn’t thought of it, not because he’s selfish or any of that or needs to learn a hard lesson, those have been done.. simply because the rush of getting his powers, and implicitly of having a way out of his current predciament, a way to keep Francis off his back and keep Wade from pulling him in further. His own path. But once i’ts brought up.. he jumps on it. Part of it is being a nerd like you or I, of course he wants to.. and being a good intetioned one, he knows this is the right thing to do. It’s waht makes a superhero a hero: Anyone can get powers in a universe like this, esepcailly the dcau, but it takes true courage and heart to use them selflessly and knowing you’ll be in danger. It’s why I love surperheroes: they often didn’t ask for this but they do it anyway because somebody’s gotta. We also get an intresting wrinkle is superman is, at least I think in this episode I could’ve missed it or misremembered things, mentioned as a fictional character. That’s because originally like the comics this wasn’t part of the DCAU.. but eventually the crew decided it shared staff from it, shared a network, both first run and on reruns, why not just make it part of the DCAU proper. I fully support this decisionf: While i’m midly annoyed unlimited never really used anything from static shock outside of Static himself in the time travel episode, despite you know Static and Gear having BEEN to the tower and not being much younger than Kara and defintely older than Courtney, I chalk it up to weird rights issues or something like that. But having Batman, Batman Beyond, Superman, Green Lantern and the Justice League itself all guest star was a good idea, and expanded both static’s universe and gave the DCAU something differnt as most heroes in it were older and more experinced in contrast to the up and coming virgil. Again really would’ve been nice if he and gear could’ve been a part of the expanded league but production might of just been too far ahead or, given he had his own series, they might just have wanted to stick to toher characters. Also begs the question why Icon or Hardware wasn’t adapted for the expanded League but hey, questions for later and the tricky logisitics of the milestone rights might’ve been the issue. I don’t know I wasn’t in the room.

So we get a costume montage, including Black Vulcan from Superfriends, who again ironically would be voiced by Lamarr not too long after this, though weirdly they DON’T use his outfit from the comics for this montage. I mean why not? It fits the gag and would’ve been a good second to last choice.But what could’ve been aside we get our winner and cut back to present day...

Thanks boys. Static finds out one of the things in the warehouse is a shipment of computers for the school and can’t help but show off, showing up to the school, where Frieda and Richie are setting up for the dance, and dropping off the computers, and even saying his catchphrase for the first time “I’ll put a shock to your system” (Which Richie chimes in with awesome line and I agree, great catcphrase), before helping set up and flirting with frieda.

Though as Richtie says he’s a natural. He’s not wrong as he can work a crowd. .but back it up too as his first run out had him easily taking out the crooks, and as many teen superheros and fans of heroes of hte type, myself included will tell you, getting it right in one is not easy. Not even Miles MOrales was immune. All Static needs now is a villian.

And the end of the episode provides one as we see, in horrifc and once again damn suprising detail most of hte new metas aren’t doing so good and are melting and other stuff and we catch up with Francis whose burning up.. and naturally given that hair, though given he named himself F-Stop it’s the least of his problems, he’s got fire powers and escapes to “Have me some fun”

So with that we end episode 1. And it’s excellent, a great way to introduce the hero and while the warehouse opening is a bit superflous, it is a decent addition, showing our heroes first outing in costume and giving us a bit of an action scene to get us through the very heavy rest of the episode. But the rest of the episode is no less grippping, telling the tale of a teen caught in an unwinnable scenario who suddenly finds a way out. And speaking of which waht of Wade? Will we see him again? Is he perhaps Ebon, the series big bad as I thought when I was a kid? What comes of the man who directly caused static’s origin?

Yeahhh that’s the one mistep I think the pilot makes. Frieda is understandable as that was likely a simple change in creative direction. This though? Why build this guy up if your not going to bring him back. I mean where he went was probably the grave, as he probably did due to his mutation, but it’s still VERY weird to spend a whole episode focusing on this guy, building him up as a big personal threat to our hero.. and NOT have him become the series big bad. And maybe he WAS supposed to be ebon and they just changed their mind. I don’t know but it bothers me it bothers me a lot. Otherwise though flawless. ONe more to go.

Aftershock: We open outside an electronics store, as our heroes watch the news reacap what happened in the first episode, with the media dubbing it the Big Bang and revealing their could be hundreds of “Metahumans”, as Virgil dubs after deciding the media’s term “Mutant” dosen’t fit, a nice wink to the fact that that’s the term used in dc comics and I believe milestone but could be wrong there. Me I like the term, has a nice ring to it.

At the store while Richie mulls over waht this means Static finds out he’s a human CD player.... this was before mp3 players and streaming on your phone made them horribly obsolete mind you and if you don’t know what one is congradualtions you live in some sort of bubble and you made me feel really old junior.

Frieda happens to be there and Virgil quips “What’s the matter they run out of britney cds”. Dude she’s not bad. Also be careful what you wish for man. Nickeback returned the year after this. You have not truly suffered through bad music yet my young friend. They spot a kid looking feverish, and he soon turns into a purple werewolf, as you do. It’s a bang baby.. those are richie’s exact word and you may not want to start a panic there bud. Just saying your best friend is one. THeir not all like this. Our heroes book it only to run into Francis who naturally refuses to let them leave and only doesn’t try to beat up Virgil because Virgil points otu the werewolf and nonplussed, he goes to fight it, scarring it off by revealing his own powers. He’s now dubbed himself Hotstreak which points for getting an actually good name kid. No points for what happens next as unsuprisingly getting powers did NOT mak ehim a better person and he attacks Virgil who blocks with a garbage can lid and thankfully is blasted into an ally. Richie tries to guard frieda for damn obvious reasons but gets hsi shirt burnt up because shut up Thankfully Static shows up, and we get our firsdt full on superhuman fight as both fight each other with aplomb, and it’s a damn good fight.. and one that goes pear shaped for Virg as he’s caught off guard when he finds out Hotstreak can use his powers to fly, and tackles him and his previous trauma causes him to freeze up. Thankfully , as Frieda put in a call earlier, the fire department arrive and HOt streak has to retreat, though Virgil is bummed that he “Choked”. And I love this as it not only shows Virgil’s inepxerince, as this is his first time fighting a bad guy but that just because he HAS power now dosen’t mean trauma and his previous fear of Hotstreak goes away or you won’t freeze up from time to time. It dosen’t make him weak or anything like some assholes would call it .. it makes him human. Humans make mistakes, and it makes him all the more relatable that he’s not pefect and that he did freeze up as I know I certainly would at last once in the circumstances.

Things don’t get better at dinner as Sharon and Pops argue over the bang babies with Pops calling them a meance and Sharon pointing out Static exists so they can’t all be bad. See assuming a group of superhumans are bad because a handful of them ar edick sis why the x-men had to get their own island nation. You can only save an ungreatful populous so many times before you say “fuck it i’m getting my own island, pay me for life saving drugs, save your damn selves and stop doing genocides on us. Kay thanks”. But he does bring up a valid point that rattles his son: We don’t know anything about the Bang Babies or their biological structures and it’s likely they might further mutate into monsters, Static included.

Virgil, understandably, wants to check this and thus he and richie compare blood samples in science, to no real conclusion. She he checks out with his doctor who assumes he’s sexually active in a great getting crap past the radar bit and a bit of realisim, but he agrees to the test though if something came up he would have to tell Virgil’s dsad and is up front about this. Nice dose of realisim.

That night City Council has a meeting and the Mayor TRIES to deflect Papa Hawkins questions about the bang babies which again, while being a judgmental ass as not every person hit was a gang member (Virgil, and as we discover later some others), and not every gang member is there by choice, some by circumstnace some, like virgil almost was, because they HAD no other option. Again years of reading x-men may of just made me a bit touchy on assholes admitely assuming superpower people bad. But it’s clear the public is upset and while she says an investigation is underway... Virgil and Richie are not only not convinced, but figure she’s actively covering it up. And unlike everyone else there who probably suspects the same, they can do something about it and tail her. It’s during this, and cleverly as I didn’t realie till writing this using similar skills to his human cd player act, Virgil listens in and discovers whose behind it: Edwin Alva, whose apparently richer than bill gates and a beloved phinarophist Alva, as it turns out, was actually the arch enemy of Hardware in the comics, taking advantage of the guy in his civiliian idtentiy and thus casuing him to launch a war on the asshole. He does transition into this series well though, being the one behind the gas that caused it and with the mayor agreeing to back off, planning to simply dump the info about the big bang on a disc then destroy everything for now till the heat dies down. Yup sounds like a corprate douchebag.

Static tails him, finds the lab and infiltrates it, stealing the disc.. but getting caught by Alva’s goon, and trapped in a glass prison, forced to use ALL his power to escape and barely getting out alive, but not before bouncing off alva’s car. Still he now has the proof.. and meanwhile Hotstreak, who I was wrong did get captured, is forced to take pill sbut spits them out once the orderly is gone. Dude.. WHY DIDN’T YOU WATCH HIM. Make sure he swallows that shit especially since, as he has no powers right now and can’t harm you.

Hotstreak escapes off screen and our heroes discuss the disc before he shows up, and we get a REALLY fucking amazing scene: Virgil ducks into an Alleway and ritchie is worried.. and Virgil disarms him with just one word responses Ritchie: Virg you can’t take him. Virgil: Gotta. Ritchie: Well at least wait for the fire department Virgil: Can’t. It’s simpile but it gets the point across: This is his fight, he can’t wait for help, and people need him. And this is what makes a true hero: It’s easy to be a hero when everythings going well.. but it’s the true ones who stick it out against the odds and fight anyway. And he’s going to. So we get one hell of a fight, though naturally Hotstreak burns up the disc. And I do like this as it dosen’t feel contrived.. yes Static could’ve left it with ritchie.. but he wasn’t thinking in the moment and dind’t really have time to think abotu the disc, only that people were being hurt and he was all they had between them and Hotstreak. It was no choice at all. Still that pisses Virgil off that the last night’s work is now worthless, and he fully charges up and curbstomps francis who retreats into a clearing. Hostreak brags when static follows, as even he’s figured out Static needs to be around metal, as he’s usually on his disc or the street, and in the park there suppodsidly isn’t any. But he’s not THAT smart as Virgil points out two things: one, he hoped to do this on PURPOSE so they wouldn’t be around people and no on e would get hurt and 2).. this is a city, there’s metal everywhere.. and he awesomely and cleverly proves it by unlodging a sewage pipe with his powers and dousing his foe, winning and proving his stuff. I love this solution, it’s a clever spider-man type way to disarm him, using smarts and the einvroment instead of just brute forcing it. Though the sewage part wasn’t intetional our hero still won and gets praise from the people dumb enough to follow the fight.

However at home Virgil points out it was Pyrrhic Victory and shows off his smarts by telling the tale behind it, which I didn’t know,because tv tropes didn’t exist yet: king pyrhus fought the romans and WON.. but had so little armies left that he still lost overall. That’s what this feels like to Virgil: he beat hotstreak but any chance at a cure for Bang Babies and Alva going to jail for causing them is gone. His mood does get a boost though as the doctor calls and reveals he’s fine, he just has a bit too much elctrolytes and just needs to lay off teh salt. He celebrates, we get a quick gag and the episode ends

Aftershock is another stellar episoe, giving us Virgil’s first super foe and a personal one at that, while showing some growth. As richie tells him he’s not virgil anymore he’s static and he can’t let his past get to him.. and he does’nt going from cowering in fear to easily beating his foe with simple logic. It’s a good followup that answers questions you may have from the first ep, like what does this do to virgil’s body, who supplied the gas, and why has no one done anything about this, and sets up another villian for Static in Alva. Great stuff. I highly recommend these episodes and the show as a whole: it’s fast paced, grounded and enjoyable, having just enough levity to not be too dour but just enough tension and stakes to be intresting. A throughly fantastic superhero show and one that i’d certainly love to revisit on this blog If you have an episode of static or the dcau in general you’d want me to cover, my comissions are open and details are on a tab on my blog or can be gotten simply by asking me via ask or dm. Tommorow we’re going deeper underground, there’s too much damage in this town as the Lena Retrospective continues. So expect gay ducks, straight ducks and some terrfirmains. See you next rainbow.

#static shock #static #virgil hawkins #richie foley #robert hawkins #sharon hawkins #hotstreak #milestone comics #dc comics #dc animated universe #dcau #dwayne mcduffie #robert l washington IIII #kids wb #hbo max #2000s #animation #black lives matter #black history month

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terramythos · 3 years ago

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TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 21 of 26

Title: The Galaxy, and the Ground Within (Wayfarers #4) (2021)

Author: Becky Chambers

Genre/Tags: Science Fiction, Third-Person, Female Protagonists

Rating: 9/10

Date Began: 8/15/2021

Date Finished: 8/22/2021

Gora is an unremarkable planet. It has no natural life and few resources to speak of. In fact, its only use is its proximity to more interesting places. Over the years, it’s become a waystation, notable only as a temporary stop for travelers as they wait for their spot in the wormhole queue.

The Five-Hop One-Stop is a small, family-owned rest stop on Gora. Three travelers— a marginalized nomad, a military contractor, and an exiled artist-- lay over at the Five-Hop awaiting the next stage of their journeys. But everything goes horribly wrong when repair work on an orbital satellite causes a cascade event, destroying the planet’s communications. Now stranded on Gora with debris raining down from the sky, the travelers and hosts must live with each other while cut off from the rest of the galaxy. As they learn more about one another, each is forced to confront their personal struggles… and challenge their perspective on life.

Speaker had a word for how she felt right then: errekere. A moment of vulnerable understanding between strangers. It did not translate into Klip, but it was a feeling she knew well from gatherings among her people. There was no need being expressed here, no barter or haggling or problems that required the assistance of a Speaker, but errekere was what she felt all the same. She’d never felt it with an alien before. She embraced the new experience.

Content warnings and spoilers below the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Non-graphic sexual content, child endangerment, ableism (if you squint; it’s not malicious), references to warfare, discussions of intergenerational trauma re: colonization (not the scifi kind), prejudice and xenophobia, recreational drug use.

I’ve had a mixed experience with Wayfarers, which is unusual for me. I can’t remember the last series I read that fluctuated so much in terms of personal enjoyment and (in my opinion) quality. People as a whole seem to enjoy this series more than me, hence the multitude of awards and glowing reviews. I liked book two, A Closed and Common Orbit, because of the focused narrative and dedicated development of two lead characters. But the first and third books suffered from an overly large cast and reliance on generic archetypes. When a series is built on character development and plot is a secondary concern at best, those characters have to be outstanding. And to me, they usually weren’t.

But in this fourth and final book, I felt that Chambers finally hit her stride. On a surface level, The Galaxy, and the Ground Within has striking similarity to book three, Record of a Spaceborn Few. Both are virtually plotless novels which do deep dives into a cast of characters. What sets The Galaxy apart is its execution. All three leads have unique and compelling personal conflicts. An underutilized strength of the series is its creative aliens; something Chambers takes advantage of here with a fully alien cast. Finally, this book hinges upon interaction between the three leads, something sorely missing from the previous book.

In these reviews I often seem critical of ensemble casts. But when done well, I actually prefer them to singular narratives. The main hurdle is having consistently interesting characters across the board. When there’s one or two characters I prefer over the others, I usually struggle with the novel. There’s an inherent sense of disappointment when leaving a favored character’s POV. For me this affects my overall enjoyment of the story. But when I like all of the characters or they all have something interesting going on, ensemble casts are great. The Galaxy, and the Ground Within is successful in this regard because I thoroughly enjoyed all three perspective characters. In no particular order…

Speaker is an Akarak, a birdlike scavenger species introduced as sympathetic antagonists in the first book. Going in, we know their home planet was colonized by the Harmagians, which has caused irreparable harm to their culture. Robbed of their homeworld and forced into the margins of GC society, the Akarak are nomadic, and many of them rely on banditry in order to survive. We have seen very little of them besides that. The Galaxy expands their lore a lot; their short lifespans, their incompatible biology with other sapients, and the resulting generational trauma from centuries of colonial exploitation. Speaker’s arc in particular is about dealing with the prejudice she encounters daily, adjusting to acceptance after being othered for so long, seeing things from a new perspective, and persistent worry for her twin sister Tracker, who she’s been separated from due to the events on Gora.

The Aeluon Pei is actually a recurring character; she’s Ashby’s love interest from the first book. Here we get a more intimate view of her as a person. In particular, she struggles with living a double life. She works a prestigious yet dangerous job among her people, running cargo into critical warzones. But her affair with Ashby (a Human) is a huge cultural taboo among the Aeluons. If her colleagues discovered her romantic relationship, her life as a cargo runner would be over. The double life is wearing on her, because she loves both aspects of her life, but knows that it can’t go on like this forever. To make matters worse, she goes into “shimmer”, a once-in-a-lifetime fertility period, during the events on Gora. This adds a layer to her struggle; does she do her duty to her species and produce a child, or does she pursue what she really wants?

Finally, there’s Roveg, a Quelin. Like the Akarak, Quelin haven’t received a whole lot of development in the series. In the first book, they’re portrayed as a xenophobic insectoid race, and their role is unambiguously antagonistic. Roveg is the polar opposite of that. He’s something of a renaissance man; an appreciator of fine art and dining, who designs artistic sims by profession. He delights in meeting aliens, befriending them, and learning everything there is to know about them. His arc centers around his exile from Quelin society and all the hidden pains associated with that. Chief among these is a mysterious meeting he has to make— which the Gora disaster obviously complicates.

Complementing the three leads are the Five-Hop’s hosts; a Laru mother and child named Ouloo and Tupo. Similar to the Akarak and Quelin, we haven’t seen many of the Laru (who I always picture as fuzzy dog-giraffe hybrids). Ouloo struggles to be a kind and accommodating host in the wake of disaster. She’s also forced to confront her own prejudices, especially regarding Speaker, the first Akarak she’s ever met. The two initially have a lot of tension, but grow to be great friends over the course of the novel. Her child Tupo is a nonbinary character using xe/xyr pronouns throughout the novel. Xe’s basically a Laru teenager, and super endearing. I love xyr natural curiosity and naiveté. Definitely the “heart” of the group.

Interaction between these characters is the bread and butter of this novel. There’s very little action; instead it focuses on their differing perspectives and life experiences. It’s a gradual build as the characters grow more familiar with one another. The epilogue is brilliant, because we see the long-term effect of these characters meeting. Despite interpersonal conflict in the story, Speaker inspires Pei to make a specific decision. From this decision, Pei realizes she can help Roveg with his meeting. As a result of this, Roveg is inspired to help Speaker based on one of their earlier conversations. His help fundamentally alters Speaker’s perspective on life— and there’s an implication it will reach beyond that, to the Akarak as a whole. It’s a cascade effect, but rather than the disastrous version that happened on Gora, it’s a positive social change for the leads. That’s the kind of literary parallel that really fires me up.

I do have a few criticisms of this novel, minor and otherwise. The first is, I wish the tension between Speaker and Pei was more strongly built throughout. While I’m glad the novel isn’t all sunshine and rainbows when it comes to the character interactions, their conflict goes from an idea in the back of one’s mind to an explosive event. This is something of a nitpick because it’s otherwise well executed. I especially like that despite their interpersonal problems, they work together in the climactic events of the novel without sacrificing their respective principles.

My other criticism is a series-wide observation. Wayfarers is optimistic to a fault. As such, it’s pretty rare that we see true evil or even bad behavior in this series. On one hand, it’s nice to read something where the characters are people who want the best for everyone. But there’s a lot of dissonance here, because there are MASSIVE social problems with the GC at large. For example, we see the effects of xenophobia, war, slavery, and colonialism, but the ones who perpetuate these issues are faceless. If Chambers wants to portray good characters, that’s fine, but it strikes me as odd to build complex social issues into your society, yet exclusively portray groups of morally good people. Why would a society full of such nice, helpful groups also marginalize the Akarak, or create an entire caste of slave clones to sort through their junk? This approach comes off as a desire for nuance without committing to it.

This trend continues through the final book. The Galaxy, and the Ground Within is clearly a COVID-19 response novel (“we’re all in this together”!)— but everyone is blameless, and the government response is reasonable and timely. That’s just not how it worked in real life. So many people were (and still are!) selfish in response to COVID, often outright endangering others. Practically every government botched their response for the sake of money, leading to mass death worldwide. If Wayfarers has similar social issues to the real world, why would the response to a disaster be any different? It’s an ongoing contradiction; the Wayfarers society is simultaneously utopian and flawed, and it’s hard for me to suspend my disbelief.

As an individual novel, though, I really enjoyed The Galaxy, and the Ground Within. Like all the other books in the Wayfarers series, it’s a standalone and can be read on its own. My experience with this series has been up and down; I recommend the second and fourth books, but I’d skip one and three if I ever do a reread. There are things to like about Wayfarers in terms of worldbuilding and the creative ideas behind all the different aliens. Characterization is hit or miss, but the hits are great, and this book in particular knocked it out of the park. Chambers’ prose improves a lot over the series, and it’s nice to see how she develops as a writer. As I’ve mentioned, Wayfarers has gotten lots of positive feedback, so it’s possible you will enjoy it more than I did. But I’m looking forward to reading something new.

#taylor reads #2021 reading challenge #9/10

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theheartsmistakes · 4 years ago

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The Last Night Part XXIII

Parts I-XXII:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

Part XX

Part XXI

Part XXII

XXIII.

Alastair watched his sister play with her dolls on the rug in the sitting room from the second to last step on the landing. A safe distance away from the fire, her small voice filled the room with color that it sorely lacked. Since their father’s return from wherever it was he had been for the past year, their furniture (what furniture they had) started to disappear.

Cordelia, being only eight hardly noticed. Not when her father’s attention became more of a pressing matter, but Alastair being ten years old and having been the one to mind the estate after their staff stopped showing up and Sona fell into another one her deep depressions, he began to notice.

And he could only suspect one person responsible.

After being satisfied that Cordelia was out of ear range, Alastair turned and jogged up the stairs two at a time. He noted the sconces on the walls were missing along with the bulbs except for one left unprotected and obnoxiously bright without a cover. The rug that ran along the hallway was gone as well leaving the floor bare so that every footstep and noise could be heard. Alastair took a deep breath through his nose and steadied himself.

He’d secretly hoped that his mother would be the one to address the issue, but she hardly seemed to notice the missing things, or if she did, she didn’t feel the need to mention it. The house grew colder and colder by the minute despite his father's enormous presence to fill it.

A part of him chastised himself for not being more elated about his father’s return. The rest of his family members seemed to be, but because of his illusive absence for the past year with no explanation about where he’d gone and the stink of alcohol lingering on his vest, something deep in Alastair’s chest froze towards his father.

Others may be warmed by his false promises and elaborate stories, but he knew the truth. Call it a gift of his, he could see past the pretense his father shoveled in front of everyone to hide his sins.

When he reached the oak door at the end of the hall, with a shaking fist, he knocked.

At first no sound came, so he knocked again; louder this time.

A shuffle could be heard inside. Glass shattering against the floor followed by a string of cursing.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, father,” said Alastair. “I need to speak with you.”

“What’s this about?”

Alastair placed a hand on the handle. “May I come in?”

“Is this important?”

“It is,” said Alastair lifting his jaw.

“Very well,” said his father.

Alastair turned the knob and pushed his way inside. The bitter, sweet smell of freshly spilt whiskey hit him and burned his eyes. He resisted the urge to cover his nose with a handkerchief.

His father wobbled on his hands and knees attempting to clean up a spill with his pocket cloth, but moving as if he were on a very unsteady ship. Red rimmed eyes looked up at Alastair and a grin curved around his father’s face.

“What is it?” He slurred as he fell backwards against the wingback chair that happened to be the only piece of furniture in the room beside the beverage cart sitting beside the window. “Am I late for supper?”

“It’s nearly noon, father,” said Alastair. “I’m here because it appears that our household items have gone missing.”

“Missing?” Elias squinted up at his son.

“Yes.” Alastair rolled his eyes. “As in gone.”

“Like what?”

“My writing desk, Cordelia’s doll house,” said Alastair. “Mum’s good China, the Tehran crafted weapons, the silver, and where’s the furniture that used to be in this room?”

“Alastair—“

“If you’re pawning our household items to support your drinking then—“ It wasn’t a question of if, nor was it an accusation. Alastair knew the truth, he knew even if he didn’t want to believe it.

“Then what?” asked Elias. “Go on, boy, finish your sentence.”

“You’ll not take one more thing from this house,” said Alastair.

Elias scoffed and attempted to push himself up from the floor when his hand landed on a piece of glass. Elias hissed and fell backwards again onto the floor. “Bloody hell!” He held his hand up, dripping now with fresh blood. “Don’t just stand there. Get me something to stench this with.”

Alastair sighed and walked across the room to the beverage cart. A towel hung from the silver handle, stained with spilt alcohol, Alastair grabbed it and brought it over to his father.

“Where is your steele?” asked Elias as he ripped the towel from Alastair’s hand.

“I don’t have one with me,” said the boy.

“What kind of Shadowhunter doesn’t carry around his steele?”

“I’m nearly ten, father,” reminded Alastair. “I’m hardly a Shadowhunter yet. I can go find yours if you’d like.”

Elias took the towel away from his hand and examined the wound in his palm. “No, don’t trouble yourself. You’ve clearly more pressing matters to attend to. Have you spoken to your mother about these missing items?”

“I haven’t wanted to trouble her—“

“Only me?” asked Elias. “I suppose I deserve that.” He got slowly and unsteadily to his feet. When he stepped backwards a few steps, Alastair had to stop himself from reaching out towards him. He looked like a toddler learning to walk for the first time.

The question dangled on Alastair’s tongue as he watched his father pitch forward and back like an aged ship on angry seas: why did he insist on drinking? When did he become a drunk? Alastair, honestly, couldn’t remember. There’d been a time when sobriety found him for a few months and then he’d be back on the streets again. Alastair was seven years old the first time he picked him up from the porch steps when he passed out before he’d made it inside. The first time, he’d thought it kind of comical, by the third time that week, he found it frightening. And now, he wanted to ask his father why. Why weren’t they enough for him? What was his father chasing that could be found or forgotten at the bottom of a bottle?

Alastair feared he might never know.

_ _ _

The pocket watch ticked inside Alastair’s palm where he sat on the sofa in the drawing room waiting for Cordelia and Lucie to enter through the door. It was five past three; the time they were supposed to return. Questionably, James hadn’t returned either. Alastair knew he should have trusted his instincts over his sister’s word, but he’d allowed himself to feel marginally guilty about upsetting Cordelia.

How could she not understand he was simply trying to do what was best for her? She clearly wasn’t thinking straight— and to be honest she never had when it came to the Herondale boy. It would be over his dead body that he’d ever see James hand-in-hand with his sister.

No, not even then.

Alastair shoved his watch back into his pocket, stood from the chair retrieving his jacket from the arm, and marched towards the door.

“Oh,” said a voice behind him. “Are you leaving too?”

Alastair turned to find Thomas descending the stairs in his full fighting gear. His soft brown hair was combed back away from his face and curling slightly behind his ears. His scarred hands were adjusting the straps across his broad chest that just barely fit across him. Alastair swallowed and quickly averted his eyes to his shoes and then the front door.

With a strange pitch in his voice, Alastair said, “I hadn’t realized you were here.”

“I came with my parents to meet the Herondales,” said Thomas tucking in the extra bit of leather left at the end of his strap. “I thought Christopher, Matthew, and James would be here, but it appears I am at a loss. Miss communication.”

“James is with Matthew on patrol,” said Alastair. “At least that’s what I was told.”

Thomas looked off to the side. “Then I’m sure that’s the truth of it. Where are you headed?”

“I’m supposed to meet my sister at the other Lightwood’s estate,” said Alastair. “She’s running a bit behind so I figured I’d spare her the trouble and catch her there.”

“I’m on my way there as well,” said Thomas. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

Surprised, all words evaporated from Alastair’s mind. When he managed to find them again, a bright color had emerged in his cheeks. “Are you quite sure. I don’t mind finding my own way there.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Thomas reaching for the door knob. “We’re going in the same direction, not on an outing together, there’s no reason for us to take two separate carriages to the same destination.” Thomas opened the door and without waiting for Alastair to respond, he walked out onto the front steps.

Still slightly shocked, Alastair combed a hand through his hair, picked up his cane, and followed.

“What plans do you and Cordelia have today?” Thomas asked from atop the bench seat of his parent’s carriage.

Alastair, who’d chosen to remain quiet despite the kindness being extended to him, focused on the main road as he answered. “I’m not sure. She mentioned something about going to a park.” He was quite certain that was all that was going on between them. Perhaps his parents conjured him into being kind to the injured, isolated, and troubled Carstairs boy. Perhaps this was some sort of revenge and Thomas had alternative plans of dropping him into the Thames.

“It’s a lovely day for the park—“

“What are you doing?”

Thomas’s eyebrow jumped. “Excuse me?”

“This?” Alastair motioned between them. “This show of uncharacteristic kindness. I can tell it’s not genuine. Who put you up to this?”

Thomas sighed and straightened his shoulders. “I felt badly for the way I spoke to you the other day.”

Alastair had to fight to keep the shock from his face. “You felt bad? Thomas, you have nothing to feel badly about.”

“Perhaps,” said Thomas, “but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how unfair I was being towards you. Do not misunderstand me, this is not me granting you pardon for what you did, but rather an understanding.”

“Why?”

“Because when you created those lies about my father,” said Thomas, “I created lies for him, or what I thought were lies to help repair some of his reputation. My father, who is an upstanding citizen by most regards, and truly a wonderful father, and I was making up all kinds of lies to protect him even though I knew the rumors about him were lies— even though I believed him. I can’t imagine if the rumors were actually true.”

He didn’t have to say it. Alastair had long since learned to read between the lines of what someone was saying to him.

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me,” said Alastair shortly.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” said Thomas, never removing his eyes from the road, “and I don’t pity you. I’m merely saying that I understand. In a way, I understand.”

With the wind brushing against his face, Alastair felt a weight of sorts brush off of him.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done to your family and Matthew’s,” said Alastair. “I’ve been minding my father’s reputation since I was a boy.”

“Why did you do it?” asked Thomas. “I know why I fought for my father’s reputation, but yours was an actual alcoholic.”

Alastair bristled. “Alcoholic or not, he is still my father.”

“I’m sorry if I offended—“

“You didn’t offend,” said Alastair. “I suppose I fought so hard to protect him for so long that I simply forgot how to not to. I’d been able to keep up a pretense about my father that at the first sign of trouble, my instinct was to defend him, and the only way I knew how to do that was to put the spotlight onto someone else. If I’m being honest, it wasn’t him I was trying to protect.”

“Yourself?” asked Thomas, as he steered the horse down an empty brick paved street.

“Cordelia,” said Alastair. “I was trying to protect Cordelia. She grew up believing that our father was someone to be admired. She held him on the same pedestal that the Herondale children held their father. I made sure that she never knew about his… illness.”

“Does she know now?”

“She does,” said Alastair. “I couldn’t protect her forever.”

“No,” said Thomas, drawing the horse to a stop at the brick pathway leading to a white gated entrance to a garden. “I suppose you can’t.”

Alastair looked up at the beautiful ivy crested veranda and tried to remember what had caused him to go fetch Cordelia in such a hast. Surely, she was all right with Lucie and if she was in fact with James, perhaps it was high time that she started worrying about her own mistakes. And if she needed him, he would surely be there for her.

“Perhaps I’ll wait here,” said Alastair. “While you go fetch Christopher.”

From the ground now, Thomas looked up at Alastair as he tied the horse to a post. “Would you like me to get Cordelia for you?”

“No,” said Alastair, adjusting his coat. “I shouldn’t trouble her. She’ll return when—“

Before he could finish his sentence, a high pitched scream came from inside the house. Thomas and Alastair both looked in the direction of which it had come and then back at each other.

“Cordelia,” said Alastair as he swung himself down from the driver’s bench as Thomas drew a steele from the strap on his shoulder and whispered its name to it. It burst to light in his hand, accenting his face in a halo of light.

The two men stalked up to the open front door: Alastair at the front, with Thomas trailing closely behind him, both of them scanning their surroundings.

Upon entering the house, it didn’t appear that anything was out of place through the kitchen. There was no sign of a scuffle or demon activity. Even though he didn’t know him all that well, Alastair wouldn’t put it past the odd glasses wearing one to release a demon during one of his poorly executed experiments.

They inched through the kitchen into the short hallway that went through to the sitting room. Attached to the room was a staircase and from the second floor, they could hear an exchanging of voices.

Alastair broke for the stairs at a run with Thomas close behind him. He followed the direction the voices were coming from and turned to the left, stopping at a door that was partially opened. He was seconds from storming it, when Thomas grabbed him by the coat tail and wretched him back.

“Wait,” said Thomas and stepped in front of him, “listen.”

“I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” said a second voice laced with ill intention and centuries of old lies. “Not unless you want me to start breaking bones in their bodies starting with the smallest.”

Thomas grabbed Alastair’s arm and mouthed a name. “Belial.”

Suddenly, the door slammed in front of Alastair and he heard the faint sound of the lock.

“We don’t have much time. I have a very short window back into my realm and we’ll need to be going now. That is if you want your friends to live.”

“Lucie,” said a male voice that Alastair could not recognize. “Don’t go with him. I’m not meant to be here. I’m not meant to be alive.”

“How rude,” said Belial. “Do you have any idea how hard your mother and sister worked to bring you back to life. The least you could do is be more grateful.”

“If I go with you.” The voice was clearly Lucie’s and if Lucie was in there then so would Cordelia. “If I agree to do what you ask, you’ll promise to leave them alone?”

“You have my word,” said a second voice laced with ill intention and century old lies.

Thomas glanced at Alastair and pointed at the medieval spear hanging on the wall in the hallway. Alastair reached up and pulled it carefully from it’s hooks as Thomas took several steps back, picked his foot up, and kicked their way through the lock with his heel in a single, impressive stomp. As Thomas reached for Lucie, pulling her away from the mysterious figure in the center of the room, Alastair threw the spear with every ounce of his might.

He watched it spiral through the air, quick as an arrow, and then stop mere inches from Belial’s chest. A wicked grin curled around the handsome face, as the spear evaporated and then reappeared faster then Alastair could blink.

It was warm, that was the first thing he thought about. Warmth spreading across his back and his chest. His eyes searched the room for Cordelia, but he couldn’t find her face amongst the ones he could not recognize. Everyone stared at him, the pale haired girl Grace and a dark haired boy sitting beside her looked on at him terrified. His eyes drifted to his left where Thomas held Lucie tightly in his arms both gaped at him horrified. He tried to say something, but his lungs had stopped expanding. When he looked down at his chest, he could see where the warmth had come from. The end of the spear protruded from his chest.

“Alastair!” Thomas yelled.

“Go,” he said, as rust flavored saliva dripped from between his lips. “Go now.”

“Release the girl,” said Belial, with his arms crossed and a rather bored expression on his face, “and the boy lives.”

Thomas’s grip on Lucie faltered just slightly.

“Don’t,” said Alastair. “He’s lying.”

“Let me go, Thomas,” said Lucie. “Let me go. He won’t let him die, he won’t if it means he can have me.”

“Listen to the girl, Thomas,” said Belial. “Save your friend and sacrifice the other or lose both.”

Alastair could see the turmoil in Thomas’s gritted teeth and reddened face, still his hands were white knuckled around Lucie. He wouldn’t let her go. Not unless—

Lucie brought her head forward and swung it back against Thomas’s sternum. With a quick maneuver of her feet, she twisted under his grip and shoved him off balance into the wall.

“Let them go,” said Lucie, her hair loose from it’s braid now and falling around her face giving her the appearance of a mad woman. “Let him live and I’ll go with you.”

Belial grinned and with a slight nod of his head, he and Lucie blinked from the room like a flash of lightning. Alastair was released from the spear in the wall and fell crumpled to the ground on his knees. His hands went to his chest to feel for the wound, but while the blood and hole in his shirt were still there, the wound and weapon were not.

A/N: Hope I redeemed myself just a little bit. Next update comes out 12/20

#jordelia fanfiction #The Last Night #the last hours #chain of gold #james x cordelia #thomas x alastair #thomastair #j

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mchalowitz · 4 years ago

Text

the woman is the king, part two

summary: a throughline of the matriarchal scullys; be they ethereal, sharp-witted, and ill-omened.

thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first part of this story! writing again has been so great and i’m excited for everyone to read where it goes from here!

part 1: melissa

part 2: dana

———

The exam room is harshly lit, brutally overclean. When the doctor gives the diagnosis, it knocks the breath out of her, and she has the audacity to declare her gratitude. How could she.

The fragility of her age comes to mind on the drive home; her eyes prickle watching her copy of her oncology referral slide across the dashboard.

Dana is only thirty-three. Melissa was only thirty-three. She ponders her mother, Maggie, at thirty-three. Her destiny already decided; along for the military ride. She was carrying the fifth Scully child that year. Their matrarical line is cursed by the thirty-third year.

She simmers with the news for a few days; plotting methods of delivering impending doom. Mulder, the usual harbinger of bad news, is the one she tells first, and she believes using a clinician’s touch might soothe her.

The pronoun that binds them, the “we” travels from his vocal cords to their air between them. When he pauses, she can fill in the blanks of how he wants the sentence to end. We can do something about this or we can fix this. The problem is, there isn’t anything to be done.

Inside her head is a glass and cancer is the water from a faucet turned all the way on. They are merely waiting for the overflow.

Tara is pregnant; she is having a boy. Her brother’s wife is thirty-three. It must be so nice, to be dubbed a Scully, and yet remain so blessed at this foredoomed age.

An appointment to be pumped with poison and Tara’s baby shower fall in the same week. What a scheduling nightmare, she jokes, when she declines the invitation with warm regards. Bill does not laugh and he buys their mother a plane ticket.

The total lack of skeletal structure takes her over, has her melted into the couch. Scully finds the initial nausea passes quickly this time. It is the wave of self-consciousness from Mulder bearing witness to this betrayal of her body that lingers.

“It must be kind of exciting,” Mulder comments. She is watching him wipe down the counter and she doesn’t remember a single time she has seen him willingly clean anything. He is not half-assing any of the responsibilities bestowed upon him by the Mrs. Scully.

“It might be more exciting if it were someone else,” Scully responds, forgoing her usual diplomatic response on the subject.

Mulder pauses, focuses in on her eyes, and in unsaid words, he nods in agreement. He throws the wet rag into the sink with a stomach-churning squelch and falls beside her on the couch.

“You know,” she adds, “Melissa always said she wasn’t going to have kids until she was forty.”

Melissa would goad her into increasingly ridiculous futures; nothing is more ridiculous than futures that will never exist. Neither of them could have predicted such an outcome.

When they were young, one Scully sister was rarely found without the other. It was only the intricacies of adult life that would split them apart. Melissa yearned for adventure; to shed ideals and expectations from their youth in far off places. Their parents envisioned a certain fate for their children, and Dana followed it, until she didn’t.

As she conjures up those conversations about where their lives would go, she realizes she cannot even remember her voice. It rolls over her like a wave, the awareness of fading memories, and it cracks her guise held barely together.

Her glassy eyes brim and she finally crumbles, feeling wholly pathetic. She lacks her usual resiliency that he is accustomed to seeing from her as she weeps, “My sister is gone and I have cancer, Mulder.”

“I know,” he says.

“I’ll miss everything,” she whimpers. The weight of mortality hits her; the decades worth of wasted holidays and the lost memory of her nephew’s birth. Scully will never stand in resolution with her partner after their tireless work for the truth. The loss of an uncomplicated life feels enormous.

She laments what she was never sure of even desiring; the two-story in the suburbs, the babies of her own, the one true love...

“Let’s get married.”

His offer hangs in the air. Scully cries a bout of nausea and bolts for the bathroom. When she emerges, Mulder is there to tuck her into bed.

The sun sets and it rises again on a new day. She comes out of the bedroom apprehensively. Finding Mulder on one knee in her hallway isn’t an idea she can rule out completely. It wouldn’t even come close to the craziest thing she has seen him do.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Mulder rubs circles into his forehead with his cell phone pressed to his ear. She gets close enough to vaguely hear the caller on the other end, listen to the outrage behind, “I couldn’t even put the kettle on without her standing right behind me. In my own home, Fox,” and making it seem as though this is the only issue in the world that matters. And Scully kind of wishes that was true.

“That’s her job, Mom,” he replies. The tone of his voice almost makes her laugh. A polite but clear get me out of here she knows well that comes out during conversations with authority figures, midwestern cops, and not unsurprisingly, mothers.

Their eyes meet, he looks at her as though she is his unsurpassable savior. He begs off the phone, making the usual adult child promises, and sets his cell phone down on the table.

Scully commends Mulder for trying to be more involved with his family since his mother’s stroke. But what a fate he has, caring for the medically and emotionally broken women in his life. He gives her a tight lipped smile and she asks, “Is everything alright?”

“Jury’s still out,” he declares with a shrug. He stands and starts walking toward the kitchen. “Can I get you anything? Water, toast, a ring?”

A certainly interesting turn of events for them, a question that could develop into an actual conversation about the night before.

“Mulder.”

“We could get married, Scully.”

“This is so like you, Mulder. This is your stream of consciousness decision making,” she counters. Scully flattens her hands on the table, takes a breath, and attempts to change her tone to sound a little more kind. “I know the idea that I’m dying is bleak. But there are implications to getting married. I couldn’t do that to you.”

Scanning Mulder’s eyes, Scully can see he understands what she means by implications. “Don’t think about that,” he tells her finally, “If you really believe this is the end, what do you still want to experience?”

Scully’s eyes flash away, toward the door. Four years ago, she stood in that spot, and assured her sister unequivocally of her absolute disinterest in dating her new partner. Even if he were just a guy.

Selfishness has often forced a wedge between them; a precursor to many experiences they would have as partners. His brilliance and humanity drew her in then, not unlike the way it does now. When the question was posed--just any guy--their debates were thrilling, a little flirtatious even, and now they can absolutely infuriate her, but she respects his ideals, and she knows that sentiment is reciprocated.

On occasion, Scully is even a little selfish, and allows herself to appreciate just a guy with a little flop of hair that falls onto his forehead, and with the most charming smile.

Whether it be guilt or admiration, Mulder wants her to experience everything before it gets taken away. She can admire the altruism.

Mulder doesn’t ask again, he only suggests. And she accepts.

The commencement of their marriage is without fanfare in a government building on a Friday afternoon with grocery store flowers and a safe kiss on the cheek to clinch the deal. There are no rings but he holds her left hand as they bound down the courthouse steps. During their late lunch at a local diner, the waitress notices their attire, and offers them a free slice of pie, any flavor they want, because it is a special occasion.

A few paces ahead of her on the way to the car, Mulder opens her door. “Your getaway car, my bride,” he teases. The smile on her lips quickly fades. His jovial face morphs to confusion.

But it’s the drip. Blood splatters on the clean, clear plastic protecting their chocolate cream. She tries to maneuver for her purse but he quickly procures tissues from the inside pocket of his jacket.

He squats next to the passenger side of the car and holds tissues to the nose of his bride.

Something is weirdly, intangibly incorrect.

It starts with weekend plans. Mulder is already well aware of her singular escape, her monograph for the Penology Review, with its looming deadline coming up.

He normally makes comments about her unwavering professionalism. It is a mutual agreement to keep their marriage to themselves. The federal government has no investment in the inner workings of their lives; they are legally married and they both know that could easily mean reassignment for both of them. It doesn’t stop him from sneaking in a few witticisms for his own amusement.

Mulder knocks. That’s weird.

The wine is truly suspicious. Except for the occasional beer, Mulder was never much for alcohol to begin with, but what is especially bizarre is the sudden lack of concern over her doctor’s recommended meal plan. He had been following it down to the last letter, and while a glass of wine is not exactly forbidden, it is not the first item on their shopping list.

“We never really talk much, do we?”

Admittedly, the shared looks and delicate touches of silent communication is where they excel, but the question is still somewhat puzzling. Since beginning a routine of casual marital cohabitation, she believes they talk quite a bit. The minutiae of everyday life is often a topic of conversation in ways it never has been.

Scully still plays along by agreeing that, no, they don’t talk. She sips wine and tells him true-ish stories of Marcus, the prom date of a Scully, but not herself, and the infamous pumper truck scandal involving her brother Charlie.

Romantic intimacy has not exactly been a component of their marriage and she has found that cancer does not make one feel like the most desirable of specimens. He has never expressed anything to make her believe he feels anything for her beyond friendship, despite the deep affection they share.

He leans in now; his eyes closed and head cocked. Kissing him isn’t a repulsive idea, but it just seems off, because Mulder is acting so strangely out of character.

Scully scrambles off the couch to get away from the man that is so clearly not her partner. Absolutely horrified, she stares at Mulder, and has no reservations when he steps forward to cuff the pathetic and vile man that invades her living room.

Many lines have still not been crossed and she doesn’t think they ever will be. The cancer is still aggressively present with the treatments doing very little.

Scully prepares herself for the eventuality of hospitalization, potentially for good, and it is very tempting to keep that from Mulder, to allow them to remain in their bubble, but she knows that isn’t fair.

Her car idles on the street outside Harold Spuller’s care home and three soft raps sound on her driver’s side window. She sucks in air deeply and wipes the tears from her cheeks before rolling down the window.

“I didn’t mean for things to get so heated back there.”

“Me neither,” she agrees. When her eyes flash up to his, so guilty and fond, her words fall out in a tumble, unable to prolong this evasion of the truth any longer. “I don’t know why I lied to you. I’m not fine. My treatments aren’t working and my doctors don’t think another round will change that.”

“I’m in this with you, Scully.”

“I know you are,” she affirms. She ducks her head down toward the steering wheel, like a little girl caught eating dessert before dinner. “I’m tired, Mulder.”

“I’ll follow you.”

His headlights shine in her rearview mirror, trailing behind all the way back to where they began this night in Georgetown. Arriving in the apartment, she shuts the door behind them, and informs him, “I’m going to take a shower,” and he nods, reaching forward to squeeze her shoulder. He loosens his tie and starts meandering toward the bedroom.

The phantom ghost of his touch remains on her shoulder and it reminds her of his romantic soul that she is only now been introduced to. Mulder is more emotionally open and affection than she is. He treats her like a wife. They are married, after all.

Their marital bliss is of their own design; enjoyably innocent with its lack of certain intimate elements left largely undiscussed. However, there is delight to be found in mere shared company. With a no-work policy now enacted in her home, the opportunity to see funnier, more relaxed, and domestic sides of each other often makes it feel as though their marriage could be real.

An unspoken agreement to live this arrangement without rules creates something representative of authentic matrimony. Ignoring the initial awkwardness when sharing a bed leads to the normalization of pressing into his warm side each night; falling asleep faster and deeper. Leisurely playing with his hair while reading on the couch one evening introduced a few form of relaxation they both enjoy. He even calls her “honey” occasionally, and she must admit, it makes her feel pleasantly warm to hear it.

It wasn’t right to keep him out of the loop.

Sitting on the tile shower floor, Scully washes the last six hours from her skin. In an attempt to prove to herself, to everyone, that she can still do this, she pushes herself too far. The best decision for the case was to take down the nurse. For her fragile body, not as much.

A small box sits on top of her towel. She picks it up, weighing it gently in her palm.

Mulder already lies innocently under the covers and appears deeply enthralled in his nighttime reading. He looks very youthful and sweet in his wire-framed glasses and his large feet poking out at the end of the bed. She presents the box in question and inquires, “Mulder, what’s this?”

“Hmm?” he murmurs. He glances up briefly, taking off his glasses. “Oh. Wedding present.”

Eyebrows drawn together in confusion, she sits down on top of the comforter, and cautiously opens the box. Her eyes fall on a gorgeously dainty bracelet with a small diamond affixed to a silver chain.

“I don’t know what to say,” Scully finally admits. Mulder smiles, wordlessly leaning forward to close the distance between them. His kiss finally comes with soft lips and firm resolve.

A keen ear kept on the exchange occurring in the hallway, Scully hears the malice in “let her die with dignity,” the intense intent to guilt. Since childhood, Bill has been masterful at identifying a scapegoat.

Appearing at her bedside, Scully takes her brother’s hand. It has been quite some time since they were together in person and she is aware she should focus on the grand gesture of his presence. But they have always sparred on injustice and she just witnessed him as the purveyor.

“I don’t want you to talk to him like that,” she tells him.

It takes almost nothing to generate a quarrel between the two of them. “You keep defending him, Dana, and I don’t see what there is about him to protect,” Bill argues. “You wouldn’t even be in this situation if...”

“Fox has been very helpful,” Maggie interrupts. Their mother is well versed in deescalating the disputes of Dana and Bill; the oil and water of the Scully children. “Bill, sit down and be civil.”

Where Mulder pushes, Bill pulls, and Dana is left somewhere in the middle. Something akin to a jealous feud brews between the two men in her life; each vying for the role of ultimate fixer. It is only when Mulder orchestrates the impossible that her brother cannot deny the miracle.

Most conversations were plans for a comfortable end or perhaps a prolonged, managed experience. The concept of remission, a life without the dark cloud of cancer, was a possibility never even considered.

The day of her discharge finally arrives after a final weeklong observation of her progress, and Mulder, as a now regular fixture of the post-critical care ward, shows up to her room early as usual. He drops a bag on her empty hospital bed. “I brought you some clothes from your apartment,” Mulder informs her. “Unfortunately I couldn’t find anything as uniquely versatile as the hospital gown.”

“I appreciate the effort,” she smiles, ripping open the plastic bag.

Scully can feel an awkwardness emanating from him with three feet between them. She is taking stock of the items he provided when he finally speaks, “Listen, I can be out--”

With a week to discuss the topic, neither of them were brave enough to allow it. The last thing Scully wants Mulder to believe is she married him to take advantage of a kindness he extended to her. It was done with such a different outcome in mind; a selfless act with an outcome to be bathed in heartache.

Now, there is no plan on how to approach where things will go from here. Scully didn’t ever think she would be in a position to have to consider it.

At the very least, they deserve time to enjoy a lack of this particular impending doom.

“Should we get dinner tonight?”

If there is anything they deserve more of, it is time.

It is health.

It is stability.

#x files #xf fic #dana scully #fox mulder #msr

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raz-b-rose · 5 years ago

Text

The Secrets we Share

Part one

This is the second and (for now) final part to this AU.

11527 words. Enjoy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21737908/chapters/56487616#workskin

___________________________________________________________

Marinette pulls back from the kiss first, gazing lovingly at Damian. “I love you, sorry again for overreacting”

“We both have weaknesses, but we have all the time to help each other” Damian kisses her forehead, taking her bag to her room. Marinette only hums in response.

Marinette couldn't believe the changes in her life in just one week. Master Fu had passed, she was the new supreme Guardian; her parents were proud of her, and she hoped her mother understood when she told them about the wedding. She was raised within the temple's traditions after all, but she had also raised her to carve her own path despite Fu’s desire to raise her as the next supreme.

Marinette froze for a moment, watching Damian move around her apartment with ease, grinning wildly at the thought of this becoming her everyday life. Her and Damian together, best friends and partners. Partners. Marinette focusses on that word. She thinks about her days as a vigilante. It had been two years since she had last transformed with Tiki, since she had last doned the monacer of Ladybug and assisted others. She feels something bubble up in her chest that almost matches the excitement of her future with Damian. She could become ladybug once again.

Damina glances behind him to Marinette relaxing to the sight of her smile. She was his retreat from everything crazy and stressful in his life. No matter what happens in the field or on missions, he would always have her to return to. Her smile, her joy, and her kindness will always be there for him.

“Hey Chéri, I should let you know that we have just one more thing in common” Marinette is still grinning wildly, coming forward to join their hand together.

“What is that Habibti?” Damian finds himself caught up in her excitement.

“I used to be a vigilante as well, and I had to quit when I moved here for school, didn’t want to step on any toes, but now I can help again, this is wonderful”

Damian stiffins, varying images of all the terrible things that could happen to Marinette flying though his mind before settling on Barbra in a wheelchair. His grip tightens his breathing labored.

“Marinette I-” She simply cups his face, eyes shining in understanding.

“Because Tikki is effectively immortal, that trait is shared with me when I am transformed with her. There is nothing to worry about.”

“Tikki?” As if responding to the name, the same small red fairy-like creature flies up to his face, almost causing him to go cross eyed.

“There is nothing to worry about Damian. If anything, Marinette would be better protected than you.”

“How does that work?” Marinette had moved them back to the couch, continuing to smile as though Damian was not in the middle of a panic attack thinking about how she could die horribly. He would love to have her beside him at all times, but maybe not all the time.

Tikki only grins at him. Damian looks to Marinette to see the grin reflected on her face. They did not see the issue here. Marinette could not be in the field. She must have done community service or something. There is no way his Habibti fought crime as a teenager, right?

“Because I am immortal, unless something were to happen to my earrings, which would be very challenging to manage mind you, when I share my powers with another that trait is shared with them as well.”

Damian is still struggling to grasp the calming logic of her statements. “Even if she can’t die she could still be seriously hurt '' Damian doesn't want to be overprotective, but he's going to be overprotective.

Tikki only shakes her head, the movement soft. “I absorb any damage she takes, for life threatening injuries however, i can only absorb so much,” Damian stops breathing all together, “so she would be left with anything from a bruise to a laceration.”

“Nothing a first aid kit can’t handle.” Marinette appears at his side, handing him a mug of tea. When had she moved and made tea?

“But you could still be-” He starts to argue, but Marinette's change in tone causes him pause to hear her out.

“Damian, I have been shot on three different occasions, here, here, and here.” She points to her hip, head and finally her heart. Damian followed each movement of her finger with fascinated horror. “I was only left with a bruise for each of them, I will be ok.”

They have a stare off for what feels like hours, Damian can see another creature join the huddle on the couch, but keeps his focus on Marinette. Her eyes aren’t hard, instead they are understanding but she won't back down from this. “I also have healing magic, for the next time you get hurt”

“I don’t get hurt” Damian tries to say with an air of pride, but even to his ears he can hear the weakness of the lie.

“Yes you do, mister I got shot and didn’t say anything” Marinette gives him a pointed look, before giggling at Damian's crestfallen face.

“How did you know?”

“Oh please, I have been training with magic since I could walk, specifically that healing magic” She says with a wave of her hand. He closes his eyes, taking multiple deep breaths.

What are the facts of the situation he has control over? Marinette knows magic. Marinette can bond with an immortal being effectively making her immortal while bonded. Marinette has been shot before. Marinette is here. Marinette had been a vigilante. Marinette had been a good vigilante. Nobody as far as he knew had heard of any such thing from Paris. Marinette is going to be his partner in everything. Everything. Damian opens his eyes to her sky blue ones, relaxing once again into their depths.

“Ok, but we start slow, I need time to adjust.” She just smiles softly at him, rubbing her hand along his shoulder.

“Of course Chéri, it's only fair,” Damian relaxes some more, thankful at her cooperation. “You don't know how amazing I am as a vigilante yet” Damian scowls at her, eyes darkening in that competitive way they always do when Marinette goads him on.

“Is that so” He grins wickedly, carefully placing both of their cups on the coffee table. She eyes him with excited trepidation, waiting for Damian to strike. He glances behind her, tilting his head in confusion, and strikes when she also starts to turn back.

“Are you as good as you say if you fall for such an easy trick?” He teases while he tickles her, proud at the belly laughs he is eliciting from her.

“Stop Dami, stop” She squeals, trying desperately to put distance between them, her breaths short and joy filled.

“I dont think I’m ready to”

“Dami!” She laughs out, soft pawing at his face, tears of joy mixing with the tear tracks from earlier. With that Final plea, he stops kissing her quickly and gently. He doesn’t need her passing out from lack of oxygen after all. She simply pulls him down into a cuddle, humming contently. Pulling each other close, their warmth mixes together, making for a comfortable nap inducing environment, but both know they can’t take a nap, not yet after all.

Damian glances over to see Tikki and the other one, sitting cheerfully on the window sill, observing the city streets below.

“What,” Damian starts to ask Marinette then thinks better of it, after all they were clearly sentient beings capable of holding a conversation.

“What exactly are you?” He sits up, facing each of the small beings. They glance between each other before coming over to sit on the coffee table.

“We are called kwami, but to be exact we are the personification of certain ideals or desires.” The small horse looking one answers, licking away at a sugar cube.

Damian glances to Marinette for clarification. They did answer his question but it left him blind to certain details that Marinette is sure to have. However Tikki is the one to answer his unasked inquiry.

“We should start at the beginning, as we do with all newcomers to the Order,” Tikki sends a pointed look to Kaalki, who just rolls her eyes before focusing on her meal.

“There was a woman named Tikki who lived in China during the Xia dynasty. She learned of magic through travelers and taught herself the most powerful form of magic at the time, creation magic. She loved to create new things, especially things to help others.”

“While she was traveling her older sister fell ill to what was an incurable disease at the time.” Marinette laughs softly into her hand as Damian leans forward, grasping his hands in front of his face in total concentration on Tikki’s history lesson.

“She quickly switched her focus to healing magic, desperate to save her sister's life. During her quest she experimented with imbedding jewelry with healing effects to stop or even just slow the effects of the sickness.”

Tikki leaves the coffee table to continue her story next to Marinette's earrings, touching them softly. “Because of her love to create, her love for her sister, and her desire to heal I was brought into consciousness, a part of her soul, so to speak, being imbedded into the earrings.”

“I became everything she desired and held dear. I can create as well as heal and was the first miraculous created.”

“Do you share her memories?”

“No, I am simply a personification of her will.”

“Is that why you are immortal, you are neither alive or dead?” Marinette is impressed that Damian was able to grasp that truth so quickly.

“Exactly.”

“What happened after?” He is not so much as eager to learn what happened, but rather gain the knowledge necessary to join this world of Marinettes.

“She returned home just as the sickness was taking its final hold, we worked together to heal her, becoming Hóng fūrén.”

“Did she create the rest of the miraculous?”

“No,” Kaalki answers him this time, having finished her sugar cube she settles in on Marinette's other shoulder. “When other magicians learned of what she created, they traveled to her, eager to learn her secrets.”

“The first was a man by the name of Plagg, who had lost a loved one to the same sickness that almost took Tikki’s sister. He had heard of her miracle and hoped that she could return his loved one to him.”

“I hear a but in there,”

“Bringing people back from the dead will always have consequences, as you know” Tikki says gravely, her stare is filled both with pity and resentment. He doesn’t think that the last one is aimed at him however. Marinette stiffins.

“Damian-”

“We can talk about that later,” She doesn’t look reassured, but nods in acceptance, “Thank you, please continue” Damian reaches up to rub his chest where the sword pierced. There was no scar, but the memory of the pain was enough for Damian.

“Even though they could not help him in his original request, he still desired to learn her new way of magic as well. He then created the ring of destruction, his desire to rid the world of the illness being his main driving force.”

“Each of the Miraculous were created by different magicians and added to the collection. Tikki and Plagg went on to be the founders of the order, seeking to use their magic to help everyone around them.”

“What caused them to hide from the world?”

“A traitor by the name of Jin Yong. He had been unsuccessful in creating anything, much less a Miraculous. He attempted to steal all of them for himself, and killed Plagg in the process.” Marinette always hated this part of the story.

“By this time Tikki and Plagg had married, and started a family. In her rage, she wielded both the creation and destruction Miraculous. Jin yong was quickly dealt with but her rage still needed an outlet.”

“She unleashed such raw magical power, that she carved up the nearby mountain range. The other magicians feared her, quick to submit themselves to her, and follow any order she had to give. She then declared that from thereforth, all Miraculous would be kept in a box, and named herself as Supreme Guardian, who is the only person capable of opening the box.”

"She then traveled as far west as she could before stopping in what is now Tibet. There she built the temple and erased all traces of the miraculous from the world.”

Marinette plays with her fingers, small tears gathering. Damian rubs small circles in her back, quietly processing what he just heard. That much raw power in the wrong hands could be disastrous.

“Marinette, is announcing the Order to the world the wisest idea?” He was trying to be gentle, but the idea of being incapable of fighting against such a threat scared him.

“Yes, Supreme Guardian Tikki also placed a spell over all the miraculous. As long as I know who holds the Miraculous I can order it back to the box. Stealing one is difficult but not impossible. It has happened before.”

“Damian,” Kaalki draws his attention away, “ Not every Miraculous can manage that kind of power. Not every person can handle that kind of power. Tikki only could because she had created the Miraculous, her bonding with it being much more intimate than can be managed today.”

Damian frowns in confusion, “So how does this whole bonding thing work anyway?”

Marinette seems to brighten a little, quick to answer him, “The longer you wear a miraculous the stronger the shared magic between Kwami and human become. You also have to physically fit, spiritually sound and mentally strong to even transform with a Kwami. Anyone can wear a miraculous, but not everyone can wield one.”

“That makes me feel a little better.”

She giggles softly, sipping her tea softly. Tikki and Kaalki had moved from her shoulders now sitting softly in her lap. Marinette seems to be working herself up to say something, so he waits patiently for her to collect herself.

“We have had this power that could be shared with the world for centuries, just sitting there in cowardice for what may or may not happen. When Plagg first convinced me to transform with him and take a run on the roof tops, and I stopped a mugging, I knew what I would do with the Order should I end up leading it. I would build a team to help the world.”

She gives Damian a hard stare, “I will help those who need it.” He can’t help but smile at her and berate himself even further. Her heart is too good, kind, and compassionate.

“You will accomplish all those things Marinette. I will help you any way I can.”

“I know. Thank you Damian” Marinette feels a peace within her soul. The Order could look down on a Supreme being in a relationship all they want. She would not be as strong without Damian at her side.

“So why have I never heard of vigilantes in Paris?” Marinette at least has the gall to look embarrassed.

“As a part of my training, I would bond with a different miraculous every two weeks. When Plagg talked me into transforming and testing my powers in Paris, instead of at the temple, I loved the rush from pouncing on people and surprising them. Because I had a new look every few weeks, no one ever made the connection.”

“And then she had to start getting her friends in on it too,” Tikki chimes in in exasperation. “It was hard enough keeping her nightly adventures a secret, but adding more people to the mix every few months was getting challenging.”

“And yet I built myself a good team” Marinette huffs. They went on to bicker about Marinette's youth. Damian can’t help but dread that this would also now be a part of his new life. Kwami everywhere all the time. It would definitely take some adjusting. Damian frowns at his now vibrating phone, the caller ID confusing him even more. Standing he distances himself from the others, not wanting to disturb them with his call.

“What is it Brown?” She only ever called him when there was a daytime emergency.

“Damian you need to talk to Tim, this isn't ok.”

“I don't need to do anything you say” Damian feels his good mood souring quickly.

“No, Tim is a wreck. You haven't talked to anyone for days.”

“Who I choose to speak to is none of your concern.” Stephanie tries to interrupt him but Damian speaks over her, “I am not responsible for how Drake is feeling”

“You men and hating to talk things out” She snaps, Damian only rolls his eyes, after all just what had he and Marinette been doing for the last hour?

“There is nothing for us to talk about. He has apologized but the fact of the matter is he doesn't trust me, therefore there is no reason to speak until that is repaired first” Damian clenches his fist at admitting such a thing to Stephanie of all people.

“Of course he trusts you Damian,”

“If he truly trusted me, then this would not have happened” The silence on the other end is unsettling, Damian can only stand there, waiting for her to say something, but he knows she can’t find a way to refute his claim. “I believe you have no right to speak to me about such matters as well Brown, last I heard you weren’t even on speaking terms with Drake yourself”

“That was a low blow Damian” She growls out before cursing him out and hanging up. Damian trembles, Stephanie reigniting his original anger from the last week. He jumps a little, meeting Marinette's worried gaze.

“Damian?”

“It’s nothing, just Drakes, whatever she is right now, meddling with something she has no right to.” Marinette retakes her seat on the couch. They had talked about themselves, but not how he felt with his family. Clearly it was still unresolved and had led to a lot of stress for all parties.

“Does Tim do things like this often?” She asks so quietly, that Damian almost missed her question, the roaring in his ears grew louder.

“Do what?”

“Investigate people?”

“It is his prefered job. He investigates to find all the information so that we don’t have any blank spots.”

“Then why was his investigation of me bothering you so much? He does it to other people so why can’t he do it to me?” He can tell she is playing devil's advocate, but the question still bothers him. He can feel his anger growing stronger.

“I asked him, and Todd, not to. To meet you like normal people.” She hums, nodding her head slightly in agreement.

“That request does change everything. And why does that feel like a breach of trust to you?” Damian tightens his fists, a headache coming on from his tightened jaw. Marinette runs her thumb over the back of his hand, that's when he notices her breathing steadily. In, out. In, out. Damian starts to match her pace, his body loosening with each exhale.

“They question every choice I make. Always acting like I’m in danger. However only when I make ‘life changing decisions’” Damian states dryly, “any other time they behave as though they do not care for me.” Marinette only nods, he can tell by the look in her eye that she is processing the information, tucking it away.

“I know I can be uncommunicative and impersonal at times,” Marinette offers a small smile, “but I thought that I had made headway in building better relationships with my brothers. Don’t tell them this but I do care for them and have come to enjoy their company”

“This sounds like normal sibling drama then.” Marinette smiles, “No need to be angry. Tim and Jason care too, in their own way. They need to find a different way to show it though, you too mister” She runs her finger down his nose before pecking it quickly.

“I don’t know how to approach them at the moment, but I don’t want to lose them either” Damian confides in her, knowing his vulnerability is safe with her.

“It doesn’t need to be today Damian, a lot has happened already.” She stands pulling him with her. “But it needs to be soon. It becomes harder the longer you wait.”

“I will Habibti, don’t worry. Thank you.”

“You can talk about anything at any time Damian.” She smiles softly one last time before leading them towards the door. “I am hungry, and i think food would help both of us right now”

They enjoyed a peaceful meal, phones set on silent, just the two of them ignoring the outside world of responsibilities until a later time. Damian asked more questions, Marinette asked her own in return. The couple shared everything they hadn't before, finding solace in the fact that they truly understood the others' struggles like no one else could.

The late afternoon sun offered a cozy setting as they returned to Marinette's place, the Kwami glad to be home for free reign once again. And the two of them did what they did best. Separate activities in the same room.

Marinette returned to her dress, as it was still due for completion that week. Family emergency or not, fashion projects are to be completed. Damian returned to his book, quickly reimmersed in it, but even that couldn't hold off the exhaustion that builds when emotional stress is in play. Damian is stirred from sleep, Marinette giggling at him.

“Hey sleepy head, I think you need to go home to get some proper rest” She places a marker in his book, before walking away. Damian lays there for a few moments adjusting to consciousness. He sits up a little too quickly when he notices the time. He is late for patrol.

He jumped off the couch, pulling his jacket on in a panic, cursing softly as he gathered the rest of his things. Maeinette wonders over, concerned.

“Is everything ok? Did something happen?”

“No, nothing like that. I am just late for patrol” Damian pecks her cheek but the touch of her hand stops him at the door.

“Is that a good idea? You seem really tired.” He kisses her once more, less rushed this time.

“I will be ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, promise” Marinette hugs him tightly before finally letting him leave. She stands at the door for a moment, before turning back to her dress. Damian would be ok, she could feel it. Her gut was almost never wrong anymore, Marinette frowns at her embroidery, almost.

Tonight was not a good night. Damian scowls into the streets below. The coms were unusually silent. When he had signed onto the comms everyone gave him short crisp answers. His father, he could understand, but Todd and Drake refused to talk to him, and after the fuss Stephanie made, he expected Drake to be grovelling once again.

“Boys, we got trouble down by the docks, looks like Penguin is making a move.” Oracle informs. Each gave a confirmation before launching to the docks. Damian moved quickly, the thought of Marinette waiting for him at the forefront of his mind more than ever.

“Robin and Red Hood, come in from the north. Red Robin and I will come in from the west.” Batman orders before going silent once again. Damian is almost to the docks when Red Hood comes up on his right, their paths converging into one.

“Robin, she got back today right? Did everything go alright?” Damian is caught off guard by his question and almost missteps off the roof. He opens his mouth to respond like he always had when they try to pry, but Marinette's words from that afternoon cause him pause. He needs to find a different way to show that he does care for his brothers. What better way to start then being more open about his life.

“It went well.”

Now it was Jason's turn to be surprised. Damian was not one to willingly give information on his personal life. It took poking and prodding with the figurative crowbar to even get him to open his mouth, and even that didn’t always guarantee you'll get what you wanted out of him.

“That's good to hear.” He could practically feel the tension drain from the coms, Babs mutters a small praise and he winces. He knew they could feel the tension, he felt bad that Babs could as well. “Sorry Oracle”

“Refocus, now that that is out of the way, and then you can talk more.”

“Yes Ma’am”

Damian scowls as the distant sound of sirens grows louder. Just what they didn’t need. “Red Robin and I have converged on the smugglers. Some are trying to escape your way, be ready.”

The boys move faster to intercept before the police arrive. Damian swings down, landing harder than intended on the pavement, bringing five men to an abrupt stop. They are all dressed in beanies and black clothes. A few have traditional guns while the others have spearguns guns.

“Evening boys, would you mind dropping the weapons and surrendering peacefully?” Red Hood saunters in from the rear, catching all the cornered men off guard. With a grunt, they all start to pull their guns.

Without further words, the boys attack first, subduing the ones with the spearguns first, fearing the nasty wound that could leave more than that of a regular gun. After all, they have dealt with those before. One of the men, after losing his gun, tried to fare in hand to hand combat, Damian simply tripped him, knocking him out cold with an elbow to the throat. Damian turns around to find himself at the end of a gun, and no time to move.

Red Hood bashes the man in the back of the head with his gun, simply nodding at Damian, who could only sigh in relief. It wasn’t the first time he had been in that sort of situation since meeting Marinette, where all he could think about was how upset and angry she would be to learn how he died. Now that she knew, he wondered if she would be angrier or just heartbroken.

Red Hood walks over, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. “Not yet Robin, you have plenty of time ahead of you.” Damian glances at him with narrowed eyes, he can feel his mask constrict with the movement. How had he managed to glare 24/7 when he was younger?

They boys turn at the sound of their family landing behind them. Red Robin fidgets next to the bat, their difference in height would have made it comical if not for the seriousness of the situation. Damian simply nods to him, sending a small smile his way. That was more than enough to show the young man that the blood between them had been cleared. He relaxed immediately, offering his own smirk in return.

Bruce watched the interaction, glad that the boys had made up in their own way, but couldn’t help the roll of his eyes at the dramatics of it all. But it's your fault that they are terrible at these things his subconscious whispers to him. Bruce scowled at the intrusive thought, his pride making it difficult to admit fault.

“The police have already started inventory on the unit of drugs they were trying to move into the city. Pick up will be here shortly, Robin come with me to oversee processing of evidence.” Both men set off, Father and Son into the night.

Batman turns off his comm unit, motioning for Robin to do the same. While Damian’s relationship with Bruce hasn't always been the smoothest, they have both tried. Damian tried to be everything he valued in his Father, and Bruce tried to emulate the things Damian thought of as important. Unfortunately for both of them, that did not include expressing emotions or confrontation into personal issues as priority.

“I look forward to meeting her.” Damian rolls his eyes at the attempt for normal father son bonding conversations. They had never been Bruce's forte, but he refused to cease the attempts. “She must be a wonderful woman.”

“Wonderful because she caught my attention?”

“Wonderful because she brings out the best in you.” Bruce smiles, knowing Damian was testing his responses. He may not be the best at conventional relationships, but he picked up a thing or two from Alfred over the years.

Damian is caught off guard at the response. “The best in me?”

“She must have said something today or performed an action in the past to influence your earlier behavior with your brothers” Damian thinks over his words, realizing the truth within the statement. He grins before voicing his next thought.

“If she has held such an influence over me for so long, you must be slacking in your abilities, old man” Bruce simply raises his brow, a trade mark look if anyone who knows Batman were to give him one.

“Maybe” And with that the conversation comes to an end for now, as he turns the comms back on, meeting the commissioner behind the taped off scene. Robin shadows Batman, a working system for the last few years now. Damian however is processing the day while observing the hustle and bustle of the crime scene. Once everything is settled and they are retiring for the night at the cave, suits locked up and equipment put away, Damian sends a small wave to his family before heading back to the city.

His brain battles with itself before he finally crashes onto his bed, sleep over taking him. The night was a normal one, with the regular adrenaline. No matter how hard he tried to rethink about his afternoon, his body needed to rejuvenate itself. Thinking could wait, recharge could not.

It is well past twelve when he finally awakens, a small headache at the front of his head. He checks his phone to find a text from Bruce, asking if they would be coming to dinner at the Manor. It was Dicks last night in town before returning to Jump City.

Damian ended up staring at his phone for over five minutes. Finally he placed a call, hoping she was available. He chuckles as she picks up the phone, her frantic yelps coming over the line.

“Damian finally! Are you ok?”

“Yes Marinette, I am fine.” He laughs.

“Thank goodness, what's up?”

“Would you be available for dinner at the manor tonight?”

“Of course! What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at three-thirty. We usually eat around four.”

“Perfect, I’ll see you soon! Love you!” Before she hangs up he hears her call for Tikki, claiming a need for her opinion on outfits. Laughing one last time, he responds to his father's text before rising to get ready.

Now that things were mostly patched with Tim and Jason, dinner wasn’t looking to be an uncomfortable affair. He was however still apprehensive to introduce her to his family. But, if she could handle his past confessions, then she could probably handle his family just fine. If she could handle leading a whole organization at twenty-two, she could handle his family.

After a quick walk for Titus, and running a quick errand, it was finally time to pick up Marinette. As he approaches her building once more, she waits on the sidewalk, eyes peeled for his car. Her face lights up as she spots him, her hair cascading gently around her face, framing her freckles and eyes perfectly.

“Hey there handsome, did you have a good night?” With the click of her seat belt, Damian returns to the line of cars eager to leave the city.

“We managed to intercept a shipment of new drugs Penguin was trying to introduce to the city. Not a standard night but not a new scenario” Damian shrugs, not finding it as weird to talk casually about his nightly activities as he thought it would be.

Marinette nods, giving him a weak smile, “That is relieving to hear, I was worried for you”

“I assume that is going to be a standard for us now” Damian scowls, thinking once again about all the horrible what-ifs and undesirable futures.

“Yes but i feel like it's not that different from other couples” Marinette reaches over to take his hand, Damian notices she's trembling slightly, but decides not to bring attention to it.

“What do you mean? I believe we are in a unique situation.”

“ Well what about Military, Officers, or any other profession that has a life threatening aspect to it? Any couple apart of those lives worry for safety and health just as much as we are now”

“That is a very true point, however I maintain our uniqueness with that not every couple fights crime as vigilantes together” Damain gives her a quick pointed look before returning his focus to the road.

“And the average couple can be affected by unexpected injuries or death as well,” Marinette continues as though Damian hadn’t spoken, staring out the window as the grey and muted red buildings turn to a forest of green with the ocean peaking through, “No we are not the different after all”

Damian doesn't respond for a moment, his mind focussing between her trembling hand, to her hyperfocus on safety and wellbeing standards in other couples, and finally on the scrunching of her face as though she is trying not to cry.

“Are you trying to reassure me or yourself?” His tone was gentle, and quiet; his brothers would never believe it. Damian no longer had any qualms about having Marinette by his side no matter what. He needed her, just a week of thinking he had lost her, had him in a wreck,. He doesn't know what would happen if he were to actually lose her.

“Myself,” She continues to stare out the window, but she seemed almost calmer now, “The vigilantism aside, we would have a decreased risk of losing each other, but not a nonexistent risk.”

Damian knows that she is processing her thoughts, and smiles to himself, waiting patiently. “I love you Damian, it's painful to think about life without you,”

“Then don’t, don’t focus on the what-ifs, the negative possibilities, or the inevitable future.” Marinette finally looks at him then, eyes narrowed but a smile beginning to form, “Focus on today, that we are together”

“Are you trying to reassure me or yourself?” She parrots, giggling at his unimpressed look. “Empathy is so very interesting, we can so clearly see how to reassure someone else of our own fear but struggle with our own advice”

“Never have more true words been spoken” Damian chuckles, taking her hand in his own, the car settling into silence once more. The calm atmosphere is cracked when Marinette's hands begin to tremble once again.

“Relax, Mari. They will love you”

“Yes but there has been so much drama surrounding myself that I can’t help but be a little more than nervous.” She thinks back to the phone call Damian received yesterday, unsure of how this ‘Brown’ person would receive her.

“No reason to be unless you are truly uncomfortable with everything that happened? You never did tell me how you felt about all that?”

“Oh yea,” Damian scowls. Of course she forgot this had affected her too. Her own privacy to be exact. “Well is everything cleared up between you guys?”

Now it was Damians turn to be uncomfortable. “We haven't talked, but I let them know I was no longer upset.” Damian mumbles, thankful that he is driving so he had a reason not to meet Marinette's eyes.

“Hmm, perhaps I should talk to the boys,”

“Why?”

“Well they did listen to my phone call, that is definitely something we need to discuss” Her tone was off. It was like she was trying to sound serious but sarcasm laced ever syllable as well. If he hadn’t glanced at her just then, he would have missed the smirk, now leaving her lips as she tried to school her expression.

“What are you up too?”

“I am up to nothing Damian. This is a serious conversation.” Yea no, not even Dick would fall for that.

“I trust you will tell me what you really want to talk about with them later.” He wouldn’t pry anymore, but he wasn’t going to drop it either. Marinette only smiles softly at him, reaching her hand to trace his jaw line. The action leaving him distracted and hyper aware at the same time.

“All in good time Love, just trust me on this one.”

“You play dirty” He growls out, grip tightening around the wheel. Again she laughs, repeating her earlier action.

“I know you love me” She teases cheekily, before bringing their conversation away from the topic of family and onto miscellaneous, trivial ones. Damian responds idly, enjoying having her back in his presence. Soon they reach the broad gates of Wayne manor, hidden behind the thick foliage making Marinette feel even more like an outsider.

Damian climbs out of the car, waiting for Marinette to join him at his side. He glances behind him confused when she does not appear. A quick glance shows that she is still in the car, fists clenched as she takes a few deep breaths. Damian waits patiently for her to finish.

When she finally climbs out of the car, her face shows confidence, while the trembling of her hands betray her nerves. Damian’s larger hand swallows her, Damian likes to think he is absorbing her nerves, and the smile she sends his way almost makes him believe that.

“Oh I almost forgot” Damian reaches into his pocket, pulling a small box out. Marinette smiles softly at him before giving her hand to him to accept the ring. It is a simple silver band with one small pink stone embedded in the ring. It was perfect for the seamstress, nothing to snag on the fabric.

“You didn't have to do that Damian”

“You are my fiance and tradition dictates I present you with a ring as a symbol of our status” Marinatte tries not to laugh but fails, breaking down into small giggles.

“Also,” Damian leads her towards the ‘house’ once more, “I want to see how perceptive my family truly is”

They walked inside, the liveliness of the manor there, but muted to the back of the house. The couple start to move to the back only to be halted when Damian is tackled to the ground. Marinette can’t help but gasp as he slides back to the front door.

“Uncle Dami!

Damian carefully sits up, hugging the small girl to his chest. She may only be nine now, but she grew into her tamaranian strength everyday. “Hey there power-pop, stronger than the last time I see.”

The girl giggles, she lifts Damian off the ground, hugging him tightly. “Mom has been training me everyday. I can lift a small car now!” Her eyes are a bright green, alight with an energy that only a child knows.

“Can you now power-pop? Do you mind putting me down, I would like to introduce you to someone.” Damian gasps for breath, rubbing his side. He was bound to have a few bruises by tonight, as he always did after seeing Mar’i. “This is Marinette.”

Marinette watches in temptation as the girl turns her attention to her. Her posture is relaxed, open and friendly. She was well muscled for her age, and probably the tallest as well, standing close to Marinette's shoulders, who was only 5’3’’. Marinette couldn’t help but love the contrast of her vivid green eyes to her midnight hair and sunset skin tone. She would grow to be a beautiful woman.

“Hi I’m Mar’i.” She chirps, bouncing a little as she approaches Marinette for a hug.

“Be gently power-pop, she's not used to your strength.”

“Ok Uncle Dami.” Marinette gasps a little, if this was gentle, she felt bad for whatever kind of hug Damian received.

“It’s nice to meet you too Mar’i you want to hear a secret.” The girl's eyes light up at the question. She nods eagerly, leaning in close.

“My friends call me Mari, just like your name.” Marinette whispers, side eyeing Damian with a smirk. He frowns at her, clearly put off by being out of the loop.

“Really!?”

“Yup, do you think you could help think of another nickname for me?” Marinette continues to whisper.

“I will think really hard! Do you have any superpowers or are you super cool like my dad?” Before Marinette can answer, a man enters behind her standing behind Mar’i with his hands on her shoulders.

“Mar’i what have we said about asking those kinds of questions. Not everyone is Meta or comfortable admitting they are Meta. You are free to talk about yourself, but don’t ask those questions.”

“Sorry Dad, sorry Marinette.”

“To answer your question Mar’i, no I don't have superpowers, but I can perform magic and have magic friends. Would you like to meet them?” Marinette smiles at the girl, relaxing when the excitement returns to her eyes.

“Can I? Where are they?”

Tikki and Kaalki fly out of their hiding places, smiling at the girl as well. She giggles when Mar’i only grows more excited, firing off questions a mile a minute. With a defeated shake of his head, the man holds out his hand to Marinette.

“Dick Grayson, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.” He moves them off to a sitting area beside the entryway.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, likewise. Your daughter is precious, I can’t imagine how much of a handful she must be though.”

“You have no idea,” he chuckles with a glance back at his daughter, “Mar’i Grayson if you want to fly, go outside.”

“Com’on Tikki and Kaalki I want to see how high you can fly!” The adults all show variations of amusement and exasperation at Mar’i’s excitement as she darts out the front door, the kwami close behind.

The adults left in the room jump, the sound of breaking glass and swearing echoing from down the hall. Dick only pinches the bridge of his nose muttering to himself. “I am so thankful I don’t live here anymore”

Damian only shares a look with Marinette, who is already moving down the hall to investigate. He watches as she takes quick glances at the pictures lining the walls, Alfred putting careful attention into each and everyone. Damian wasn’t fond of pictures, but had realized at a young age that they helped recreate the good memories.

The sounds of an argument grow as they come closer to the kitchen. Damian knew what kind of scene awaited him behind the swinging door, Marinette however would be horrified. She was as meticulous in the kitchen as she was with her sewing. She cleaned as she went, and put everything away after it was used. Her kitchen was never left with a blemish, and she almost took his head off the first time he tried to help her cook dinner.

He watched as she pushed open the door, taking in the scene in front of her. Tim stood with his back to her, a handheld broom clenched in his fist as he waved it around to emphasize his words.

Jason stood glaring on the other side of the kitchen island yelling back. Alfred stood off to the side, exasperated at their antics, choosing to continue cooking, leaving the young men to their own devices.

“What has Alfred been teaching you?” Jason shouts, gesturing wildly at the broken glass and pasta sauce splatter from floor to counter to ceiling.

“To cook unlike you, at least I can be in the kitchen by myself without it bursting into flames.”

“Yeah because all you know is how to use the microwave.”

“Says the king of microwavable dinners for one”

“Why you-” Jason stops from leaping over the counter at Tim, his eyes widening at the sight of Marinette standing in the doorway. Tim turns in confusion before also freezing in what could be fear or shock, Damian couldn’t tell.

“Hello Miss Marinette, it is wonderful to meet you after all this time.” Alfred comes over, taking her hand in his own. Marinette smiles at him, his hands are soft, but not as soft as his eyes. If this man was a part of Damian’s family, then she truly had nothing to worry about.

“I feel the same,” Marinette can feel the love he has for his family. Though he continues to age more each year, he continues to serve them with all the care he can give. “I look forward to getting to know you.” Alfread plays with Marinette’s ring, giving her a mischievous smile before turning back to the stove.

The boys still hadn’t moved, they stood defensively, waiting for Marinette to strike. From their viewpoint they feel like cornered prey, Marinellte the Lioness, waiting for the proper moment to strike. Both men begin to sweat, the mess quickly forgotten. She gently takes the broom and dustpan from Tim, leaning down to sweep up what she can, thankful that she had not removed her shoes at the door. They watch with trepidation as she cleans their mess, until all sauce she could reach is wiped up and the kitchen just one step back into order as it was before.

“Alfred, what are you cooking? It smells delicious.” The boys flinch as Marinette finally speaks after the long silence.

“A simple dish for the boys to learn and Miss Mar’i’s favorite. Spaghetti with corn bread.”

“Wonderful, I have not had many dishes related to American-Italian food, I can’t wait to try it”

“You can thank the boys here, they did most of the work” Marinette finally turned her full attention towards them, giving them a soft smile.

“Thank you for cooking dinner for us.” Damian is trying his best to contain his laughter, they could only give her a shaking nod of their heads, eyes still wide. She only continues to smile at them, gently taking the spoon from Alfred.

“Why don’t I help the boys finish dinner, that way you can relax for the night. Spend some time with Mar’i?” Alfred pats her cheek gently.

“Thank you Miss Marinette, the cornbread is on a timer and the noodles only need to be drained soon, vegetables are also on a timer.” Damian walks with Alfred back down the hall, smiling proudly alongside his grandfather.

"Those boys are in for a surprise Damian" Alfred chuckles, leaning on Damians arm.

"She's up to something, that's for sure" with one last backwards glance at the swinging door, Damian leads Alfred to the sitting Area, joining Dick and Bruce in the relaxing environment.

Back in the kitchen Marinette hums softly, continuing dinner preparations while the boys have tried to distance themselves as far as they possibly can from the young woman.

Jason sits stiffly on his stool, hands gripping his knees until his knuckles are white. He sends constant glances at the door, wondering if he should run or face her lecture like a man. Her humming was starting to put him on edge. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has not behaved like one would expect in this situation. Jason was flying blind.

Tim, on the other hand, is trying to control his shaking by sitting with perfect posture for once, hands folded neatly in front of his on the marble top. With a glance you would picture him to be perfectly calm, if it were not for the beads of sweat on his brow or the constant fidgeting with his hands. He too was confused and on edge. He knew few women on a very personal level, and each and every one of them scared him, but at least he knew what to expect. Marinette being completely calm and unreactive left his head spinning.

Both boys were used to yelling and even fist being thrown. Not gentleness and kindness. Just when the silence was getting too much to bear, she spoke again.

"I must thank you both, you would have made a paranoid old man feel very justified" she sends another one of those smiles over her shoulder before turning back to the pasta mixture.

“What?” They echo off each other.

“My master saw a movie one day where they were listening in on phone calls. After that, he insisted we talked in code with each other when it related to temple business.” Content that the food was good to leave alone for a moment she turns to face the boys, almost laughing at their equally confused and tense facial expressions.

“Glad we could help?” Tim is at a loss for how to proceed. Damian yelled at them, shouldn’t Marinette too? How would Damian even find someone this polar opposite from him? This must be a mind game, no other explanation. Tim would not lose.

“Can you please just get this over with, we can take anything you have to say” Jason finally snaps, instantly regretting his tone but he couldn't take the drawn out punishment any longer. Hugging Bruce for twenty-four hours would be preferable to this.

“And what, Jason, am I getting done and over with?” Damian had mentioned his brothers every so often, only in passing stories or complaints. It was quite easy to see who was who. Jason was known for being a hot head, quick to speak. Tim on the other hand, Damian had bragged about being taller than him, and well, he was clearly the shorter of the two.

“Yelling at us for everything we did to you.”

She smirks at them, leaning on her elbows staring at them in such a way they couldn’t help but feel as though she was searching their souls. Maybe she was; they didn’t know what kind of magic she knew afterall.

“Oh that, I don’t care about that.” She shuts off the timer, removing the bread carefully while the boys processed her words.

“You-you don’t care that we listened to your phone call?” Tim is the first to speak.

“Or the background check we did on you?” Jason finishes. The boys relax a little, but again Tim is waiting for the rug to be pulled from under his feet (like that hadn’t been happening since she stepped foot in the kitchen). Jason had stopped looking at the door, hyperfocusing on Marinette body language. She was relaxed, moving about the kitchen like she had cooked within its walls her whole life.

“Nope.” She says it with such sweet innocence, they obviously had different perceived notions on the seriousness of the topic.

“Why?”

“Because it's your job. How many times have you had to do something like this and it helped you save countless lives?” She easily finds the strainer in the first cabinet she checks.

“Uh,”

“I can say I do not like or prefer my privacy being overstepped, but how can I hold that against you? How can I be upset by something that you do to protect people, especially those you love.”

“What?” Each boy's response continues to be more intelligent than the last.

Marinette giggles, “So no I am not mad at you guys for those actions.”

Tim narrows her eyes at her words, “That insinuates that you are upset with us about something.”

“Yes I am saddened by one thing and that is, that you don’t trust Damian.” She has stopped smiling, giving each boy a heartbroken look. She gives them time to think, finishing dinner preparations.

“Of course we trust him,” Jason starts, offended that she would declare such a thing. Look at them with such disdain and judgment. Who was she to judge him and behave like she knows everything.

“Yeah, he always has our backs, we would have died more times than we can count if he wasn’t there” Tim is now also on the offensive. Why did he fear her words again? She clearly knew nothing and was only on Damians side, her view of the situation had been tainted.

Marinette watched each boy express their anger and pain. She sighs a little at their pride, but hopefully this conversation wouldn’t be too painful.

“You trust him with those things, yes, but do you trust him with his own decisions?” Seeing that they didn’t have an immediate response, she continued on.

“Have you ever let Damian make any decisions on his own? Even if you knew they could or would result in mistakes?”

“Of course we have, we aren’t Bruce or Alfred after all.” Jason grumbles, still put off by where the conversation was heading. He would rather she had just yelled at them by this point.

“Then why didn’t you listen to him?” The sound of her stool scraping against the floor sends a feeling of unease through the room.

“Because we-” Tim falters. “Because we thought we knew best” He finishes weakly.

“We just want to protect him,” Jason adds in defense, “We have been through things like this before. Better safe than sorry.”

“And is it better?” She takes a hold of their left and right hand respectively. “Is it better to lose a relationship with your brother or be there for him when he needs it?”

She lets them process her words, their eyes are looking anywhere but at her, brows creased with thought and worry.

“But he could have-” Jason starts angrily before glancing at Tim, the door, then Marinette. Jason couldn’t finish, she might not know, and the last thing he needed was to say something to break them up and get on Damians bad side again.

“You were afraid he could die again?” The boys wanted to be shocked he told her, but clearly Marinette was a special woman. She squeezes their hands, the boys feeling calm and comfort now instead of anger.

“We are all human. We all make mistakes,” Tim flinches, “But if we don’t, then how are we supposed to gain knowledge and growth?”

“But some mistakes are irreversible.” Jason mumbles.

“That is true, and those are the most painful.”

“We have made some of those mistakes, and we know how it ends, we can help stop him from living with our regrets” Tim argues, desperate to show Marinette how much good he meant, that he just wanted Damian to stay safe.

She only smiles, “And that is a desire I never want you guys to push away, but you can’t protect him from everything. You can’t control everything, and you most certainly can’t control another person.”

Jason felt like he was slapped across the face just then. When had he started to behave like Bruce? When had he become so overbearing?

Tim felt the knots retie in his stomach, and the constriction of his lungs retightened. He didn’t want to be controlling, but he needed to be in control. Now he was frustrated by this clear paradox.

“Instead,” they focus in on her words, as the tone is a hopeful one, “Share with him your knowledge, give advice when he asks, and most importantly,” They are breathless now, completely captivated by her voice and eyes. Her eyes are intense, clearly this point needs to be taken to heart, while also having a soft edge to them, she isn’t angry, she is patient.

“Be there for him when he needs you. It is better to have a relationship then a partnership isn’t it?” She waits a beat for her words to sink in before hopping off the stool to finish dinner, leaving the boys to process.

“Thank you Marinette,” Jason is the first to speak, coming to stand beside her, helping her plate everything. “He picked a good one” She flushes at his words, flattered and embarrassed. The three adults are now content, a relationship of understanding growing between them.

To bring a sense of normalcy, Jason launches into as many embarrassing stories of Damian he can recount while they finish dinner and set the table next door. Tim chimes in every now and then to correct him, or add detail, but otherwise stays out of the conversation. Marinette laughs heartily at each story, glad that there was still something to learn about Damian. She is glad to finally meet his family, after all she missed her own overseas.

“And then he comes home with a cow right, don’t know how or where and he refused to tell us.” Marinette giggles at the idea of preteen Damian dragging a cow through the front doors of the Manor. They are walking the halls to retrieve the family for dinner when raised voices from the sitting area give the three adults a sense of urgency.

Rounding the corner Marinette watches as a blond woman bares down on Damian, her finger in his face. He only looks annoyed, staring her down with narrowed eyes. Rather she would be bearing down if not for the height difference. She was almost standing on her tiptoes to get into Damian’s face.

“You haven’t changed at all in the last decade!” The woman yells. “Stubborn and wrong to a fault again!” Her face flushed red, muscles tightened and her entire posture tense.

Damian flinches, his body shifting only the slightest. The only outward sign that what was said hurt him. His arms wrap tighter around his body, spine straight. Marinette narrows her eyes before marching over and pushing herself into the woman's personal space.

She takes a step back, blinking in surprise at the smaller asian woman invading her space. Her eyes widen when she finally processes who exactly is in front of her. “You-” she snaps her mouth shut however, her sentence unfinished.

Stephanie is unsure what kind of person she is dealing with. While she stands defensively in front of Damian, her petite stature leaves her confused on whether or not she was truly a threat. However when Stephanie looks her in the eyes, she knows the answer to that question. There is more to her than there seems. Her eyes are hard in the iris, no other sign showed her clear anger at Stephanie. Or was Stephanie imagining the anger? She looked like she was going to cry more than anything.

"Steph that is enough" Tim grabs her hand, pulling her from the room. "Even I know that was uncalled for." She flinches at his quiet anger, bowing her head.Alfred continues to observe his new granddaughter. While she did well to hold herself with dignity, it was clear that she was just as upset as Damian about the words spoken. Marinette sighs deeply before turning to face the occupants of the room. Jason had taken a seat next to Dick at some point, whispering fiercely into his ear, a smug grin on his face. Marinette turns to Bruce, extending her hand.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you”

“Likewise,” Bruce is surprised at the sight of the ring as she pulls her hand back. He was unaware that things between the two were so serious. One glance to Damian solidifies the fact in Bruce's mind. He looked so relaxed and in love, despite the tense situation just moments prior.

Even as Damian grew up, his tough personality made it difficult for him to let people get close to him, and for people to desire to get close. Bruce thinks Damian never truly realized how lonely that was until he had graduated highschool. He was overjoyed for his son to finally let someone into his heart and to freely give his away. That was a truly proud moment for Bruce.

“Please continue to stay by Damians side.” He does not quite know why he would request such a thing from her, just that he did not regret asking once he saw the resolve on her face.

“I can’t imagine leaving him” Bruce nods, glad to hear her words, "and I apologize for the chaos i have brought to your home"

"My dear, you have done no such thing. Their nightly activities have left them high strung and on edge" Alfred gently reminds her, "They get a little stuck in their heads on occasion"

Marinette looks like she's about to argue with him, but a gentle touch to her shoulder from Damian has her smiling politely at Alfred instead.

"Learn to accept you're not responsible for everything" Damian scowls at her, that only has her scowling right back.

"I was just-"

"Being ridiculous like always" Damian quickly finishes for her, giving her shoulder another squeeze.

“What is it, my little bumgorf?" The room turns at the sound of the newcomer, Marinette gasping softly. Her skin was a glowing amber that contrasted like a sunset with her vibrant red hair. Her otherworldly green eyes were bright with joy. Marinette had never seen a more beautiful woman who would honestly make a great model for her line. That skin tone.

Dick rises, giving the woman a chaste kiss before settling his arm around her waist. “Marinette I would like you to meet my wife, Kori”

“Nice to meet you” Marineete once again extends her hand but Kori pulls her into a hug, Marinette laughs.

“Oh I’m so excited to have you join the family”

“I can’t wait to get to know everybody”

"Mom, I'm hungry can we please eat now? Mar’i is pouting, both kwami sitting contently on her shoulders.

"Of course my little bumgorf." The women decide to move to the dining room, the men following behind. Jason claps Damian on the back, pulling him into a hug.

“Sorry for not trusting you. Marinette is quite the woman and you are very lucky.” Before Damian can respond, he moves ahead, cheeks flushed the slightest.

“Wow, she can get Jason to apologize willingly” Dick laughs, before following after Jason, “Jay! Come back here” Father and son are left alone in the hall, both slowing their pace the slightest.

“I was unaware things were this serious”

“She accepted everything about me”

“Everything?”

“She forgave me for my past actions,” Damian hesitates for a moment, but decides to push forward, “She said she loves me no matter what”

“That is a very special trait to have” with that Bruce leaves, but not before gripping his youngest son's shoulder, the fatherly pride at his growth, both emotionally and physically. He is a fine young man. He can feel the emotions welling up, and quickly makes his leave, not comfortable with the vulnerability he associates with 'mushy' love.

Damian smiles at his father's retreating figure and chuckles. Some things never change and he is thankful for that. Dinner goes smoothly for the rest of the night, Stephanie making up with the members of the room, the Kwamii introduced and questions answered. Dinner finished and goodbyes exchanged, Marinette promising to visit Kor’i and Mar’i soon. Damian and Marionette find themselves sitting in the car, each processing the night. Marionette seemed content with the outcome of the night humming softly to herself. The moon was still yellow and low in the sky, signifying the night had only begun.

“So you gonna tell me what you talked to my brothers about?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

“How sometimes the relationship is more important than the choices the other person makes.” Damian does respond right away after that, eyes narrowed in thought.

“How did they take that?”

“Very well I think, but change doesn’t happen overnight so I’m sure their first reaction will be an overprotective one for awhile, so please be patient”

“As long as I have you here to help me, I know I can change too” Marinette sighs happily at that, returning to watching the passing scenery out the window. Marinette watches in fascination as they approach the Wayne Tower in the middle of the city, entering the underground parking garage. Damian pulls into the secret entrance, parking the car in the large makeshift HQ.

“Wow this is so cool. How does no one know that this is here?”

“We are very careful,” Bruce enters from a side room, already dressed for the night ahead. “Damian why did you bring Marinette here?” Bruce was already fond of his daughter-in-law to be and didn’t want her too close to the vigilante life.

“I’m going out with you guys” She casually answers while exploring the area, looking at anything and everything.

“What?” Jason and Tim say at the same time. One sounds incredulous while the other doesn’t seem too surprised.

“I haven’t been out in so long, I can’t wait” She ignores the mens bewildered stares, looking towards the elevator. “Does that go all the way to the top?”

“Yes, I’ll take you as soon as I’m ready.”

“Ok” She patiently waits for her love, continuing to examine the central computer station. “Look at this girls, isn’t this amazing. Imagine if we upgraded the temple with this stuff.”

“It would increase our appearance of wealth I guess,” Kalkki sighs, trying to not appear pleased at the obvious wealth her supreme has found herself in.

“Come Habibti, we won't have all night,” Damian enters again in uniform this time. He wore a simple red and black ensemble, the trim of his cape and belt a muted yellow. His uniform differed from the other Robins with it being a tunic instead of a jumpsuit. His cape also had a hood and easy access to the sword on his lower back.

Marinete giggled all the way up to the top, Damian sending her questioning looks, which only made her laugh harder. Jason and Tim had decided to ride with them, curious as to why Marinette wanted to go to the roof. Exiting outside, Marinette takes a deep breath, enjoying the cityscape against the rising moon. With a quick flick of her fingers, she is engulfed in a deep red light.

Damian admires her new look unabashedly. She wore what looked like a sleeveless tunic that went to her knees over a fully black bodysuit. Her tunic was red with black spots, trimmed in yellow with matching yellow tinted goggles. Her hair was hidden by the hood of her tunic and she had beautiful translucent wings at her back.

“We match” She giggles again, dancing over to him on the tip of her toes.

“At least I’ll know you’re mine” He caresses her face, hand trembling the slightest. Marinette can’t help but find the feel of his glove uncomfortable, clearly it was meant for grip, but she stayed still, letting Damian calm himself before they went out for the night.

“Now please don’t be mad at me love, but I haven’t done this in so long” She starts after Damian had had his moment, slowly backing away before taking a full run off the side of the tower. The boys gasp in fear, while Damian takes a deep breath through his nose. She can’t die, she can’t die. She can’t die. The mantra plays heavily in his head when he marches over the side, ready to chase after her. He watches as she free falls, her laugh ringing out through the city, possibly unnerving for the native. But to hear the joy she has behind it, he hopes everyone else is infected by it too.

Marinette enjoys the feel of the wind around her, the hold gravity has over her stomach. She laughs at the feeling of adrenaline once again in a long time. Man she missed this. Finally she releases her wings, taking off through the Gotham air, dancing between buildings and gargoyles.

She can feel him coming up behind her and slows herself enough for him to grab her, enjoying the sensation of being in her love's arms while swinging through the air. They touch down on a darkened rooftop, Each catching their breath.

“You didn’t tell me you were a thrill seeker” He doesn’t sound mad, just reserved to the fact this this would be his life now. The worry and fear for her safety would never go away. But all in all, if it meant her joy and laughter, he would endure.

“I haven’t free fell in so long, that was amazing!” She is still catching her breath, and still in his arms. As they both level out their breathing, they get lost in the other's gaze.

“I love you Habibti,” Damian leans down to her, resting his forehead against her own, chuckling at the small antenna in the edge of her hair line. “I love you my little bug”

“And I love you my gorgeous Robin” She rises up to meet his lips, finding her home with him, and content with her choices. Ready to take on the world with him by her side. Partners in everything for the rest of their lives. Till death do they part.

#daminette #maridami #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne

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fairuzfan · 4 years ago

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Inumaki and Okkotsu: The Pattern that just keeps on.... Patterning

I always found it quite odd how Yuuta outright decides to kill Yuuji after the Shibuya arc. Sure he’s Sukuna’s vessel but he too was the subject of an execution order just last year. Surely he understands that the people the elders decide to kill are for their own benefit, people they see as a threat to their authority. So Yuuta should find a friend in Yuuji, even if he did cut off Inumaki’s arm. Besides, isn’t killing him a bit of an extreme reaction?

But the thing is, for Yuuta, it’s not. And if their positions were reversed, if Megumi had been hurt by Yuuta’s actions, then Yuuji would probably react in a similar manner too.

In an earlier post, I mentioned how Panda says that Inumaki and Yuuta’s circumstances are similar, in that their cursed technique has had such a profound affect on their relationships with others. This sets them up to be foils and rivals, much like how Yuuji and Megumi are as well as Gojo and Getou.

And with each of these pairs, the pattern that keeps repeating is with one character being far more focused in their goals and their interactions and the other being more world minded with the people around them.

Gojo and Megumi are shown to only be concerned with the people directly around them, not really sparing much thought about the people they don’t know. Yuuji and Geto are so sympathetic to the people they haven’t even met, people they may not even make a connection with, making it a central point in their character’s conflict.

With Inumaki and Yuuta, it’s far more complicated because we haven’t really seen the point of view of one of the pair but I’ll try. I’ll probably add more to this post when we learn more about Inumaki but until then...

Toge is described by others as a kind person, someone who cares about how his cursed technique will affect others. He’s similar to Yuuji in that regard, someone with a power they have no real control over but try their best to contain it. Yuuta, who has had far more internal reflection and development, is also afraid of harming others because of Rika.

But for Yuuta, he’s only concerned at the hint of an instance where something might happen, like when those bullies were pushing him around in Volume 0.

This isn’t a negative thing really. I mean, you can’t really predict every time something might happen that may cause Rika to lose it. So him only being concerned about this when it happens is quite reasonable. And it’s not like he never tries to stop these things from happening. He tried isolating himself for most of his life and realized that it’s just not possible. It isn’t until he comes to terms with Rika that he feels more comfortable interacting with others.

Toge, however, still isolates himself in a way. He limits his speech, while still being friendly with others, but never truly connecting though words out of fear that he may inflict something terrible to the people who talk to him. So even to people he doesn’t know well, he keeps his distance out of concern for them.

But Yuuji and Megumi never had this problem, not really. Getou and Gojo didn’t either. Each pair has their own central struggle they have to deal with.

Gojo and Geto’s is perception of self as it relates to others. Megumi and Yuuji’s is morality of protection of life and its overall importance.

For Yuuta and Inumaki, their struggle is the need for connection while under the understanding that connection implies mutual harm and how to navigate that without isolating yourself.

And their cursed techniques are a perfect depiction of this. They both have potential to do great harm and try to avoid it. But the only way to avoid it is to distance themselves.

Because of this, they see each other as similar souls, people they’re concerned for. That’s Yuuta becomes so angry on Toge’s behalf.

And it’s not just that Yuuta is trying to get justice for his friend. Yuuta become protective of Inumaki because he cares for him, but also because they’ve gone through the same things. Yuuta sees himself in Toge in a way that he doesn’t see himself in anyone else.

Someone who was so thoroughly affected by their cursed technique that they couldn’t fully connect with others the same way everyone else did. Yuuta’s trying to get justice for himself.

And there’s something else I found odd here. The “I don’t care if he’s Master Gojo’s pupil.” Right away, he closes himself off from a connection to someone he could relate, and he realizes that. He basically admits “If I got to know him, I’d probably like him and become friends with him since we had similar circumstances.” He refuses the possibility of connection, something that motivates Yuuta’s entire character, in favor of vengeance, which, by the way, we aren’t even sure Toge wants.

Like Megumi, Yuuta chooses the people directly around him, people he’s already made that connection with and forgoes a new connection because of the destruction Sukuna caused towards his friend. Yuuta’s acting on his own personal conscious, not the ideal of what’s right or wrong on the grand scheme of things.

We aren’t given Toge’s viewpoint of the issue at all. We aren’t shown his resentment or forgiveness. We just show the physical consequences of when Sukuna went hogwild and made him lose his arm. Yuuta makes the executive decision to kill Yuuji, speaking on Toge’s behalf.

For all we know, Toge could hold no resentment towards Yuuji and not want to see him dead (which is where I think this is headed. I sincerely hope for a physical confrontation between Yuuta and Toge, where Toge forces Yuuta to admit that significance of Yuuta’s existence rather than just the threat of Sukuna’s.). Or it could result in Toge supporting Yuuta and turning against the first years (which, imo, goes against the core of Toge’s character but I could still see that happening and breaks the pattern of opposing viewpoints between best friends. We haven’t really learned much about Toge from himself and mostly have had secondhand accounts of his personality.)

Which now, I’d like to go back to my earlier point. I kept likening Megumi to Yuuta throughout this but I said that if their positions were switched, Yuuji would do the same thing as Yuuta.

Yuuji has been shown to be protective of the people around him and that’s been exacerbated through the Shibuya arc. When Naoya mentions his intention to kill Megumi, Yuuji get’s defensive.

But like, who wouldn’t? Some random guy says he’s going to kill your best friend. But this is a little different from Yuuta wanting to avenge Toge, since Naoya outright states his ill intentions.

And... that’s kinda not the point, either way. Yuuji has been watching so many people he’s been close to die around him despite wanting to give them a proper death. So as it builds up, his resolve to not “kill” anyone and preserve life, slowly starts to disintegrate.

So they start to fight. Yuuji with the intention to protect his friend but coincidentally Yuuta comes in about to start fighting him as well. Now we got Yuuji fighting to defend Megumi and Yuuta fighting to avenge Toge. Two sides of the same coin. Maybe they both have the same intentions too, with Yuuji wanting to kill Naoya to counter Yuuta’s intention to kill Yuuji.

Don’t get me wrong, Naoya is not a likable guy and personally I can’t wait for his reckoning, it will be oh so sweet. But he’s still human. Yuuji seems to have drawn a (very faint) line that he “kills” curses but will not do so to people. He confronted Noritoshi Kamo only with the intention of retrieving his Sensei, not anything else. But with Naoya, who imo embodies so many aspects of humanity that it’d be better off without, he’s genuinely a selfish guy.

He’s like... Mahito. He does things for his own benefit and doesn’t really care how that affects others. We know Yuuji ended up having no qualms about wanting to kill Mahito.

And then Yuuta, well, he basically sees Yuuji as Mahito. To Yuuta, Yuuji’s a guy who chooses life, the selfish choice, over giving that life up to protect others. In Yuuta’s mind, Yuuji does more harm than good, but that’s only because he hasn’t gotten to know him. Yuuji may have the King of Curses within him but he’s a genuinely caring person who wants to help people. Yuuta only sees the consequences of his actions, albiet quite destructive consequences.

And Megumi and Toge, both the people that they’re fighting for, are, surprise surprise, nowhere to be seen. Yuuta’s probably worried about protecting Inumaki so he doesn’t want him to come along. Yuuji’s ashamed and unwilling to face Megumi so he distances himself. And they’re both fighting on someone else’s behalf, someone they aren’t even really communicating with.

So now we got the whole Mahito vs Yuuji situation two times over. But a strange twist of fate is making Yuuji into a Mahito to be exorcised, despite his visceral hatred of him. Yuuta’s probably going to fall into the same pattern as Yuuji, where he’s forced to confront the humanity and importance of life that he’s wanting to extinguish.

Yuuji and Yuuta both need to work on their communication with the people around them before continuing in their path, lest they fall into the same pattern as Getou who’s constant stewing made him go insane. All three are well intentioned people who care so deeply but because they decide to take on everyone’s burdens by themselves, they distance themselves more and more from the people they’re trying to protect.

#okkotsu yuta #itadori yuuji #inumaki toge #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk meta #jjk #not me writing this instead of working on my capstone

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punksarahreese · 4 years ago

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Letters | A Chance Meeting (Twice Over)

Nosdecember day 12 | @neworleansspecial

Teen!au; Sarah and Ava’s struggle to keep in contact

CW: narcissistic abuse, gaslighting, need-panic and PTSD themes from said abuse, drug/alcohol/gambling mention, homophobia

***

Ava,

I know I haven’t answered your texts in a while. By the time you get this it will probably be a couple weeks since I last messaged. I promise I would never ignore you, what happened is out of my control.

Mom and her boyfriend broke up. Since then, she’s been adamant that we forget our trip ever happened. She threw out all our things from South Africa already, including the t-shirts we bought together. She said I can’t text you anymore.

It’s not fair, I know. I tried for a couple weeks to keep in contact through messages, I didn’t want to worry you, but she found out. She takes my phone at night now, she reads all my texts. I’m sorry, Ava; I don’t want to ignore you, I promise.

If this letter gets to you, send one back if you wanna. My friend said you can mail things to her address, she won’t open them, just so my mother doesn’t take them from me. I’ve attached the address and her name too, if you wanna write me back. I understand if you’re upset with me, just know I didn’t mean to cut you off.

I miss you,

Sarah

Sarah did her best to be subtle as she crept down the stairs, purple envelope burning a hole in her pocket. She hoped her mother was asleep so she wouldn’t have to answer any questions. She did have an alibi in mind though, her school bag hanging over one shoulder and library card on the lanyard around her neck. She had long since mastered the art of lying to get out of her mother’s manipulation, which Sarah feared would progress to her becoming a narcissistic liar like the woman who raised her. Still, that was a worry for future Sarah; right now she just wanted to get to the post office.

Luckily she had been asleep, wine glass abandoned on the kitchen counter and ¼ of a bottle left beside the couch. Sarah didn’t want to think about what kind of a mood she would be in when she got back. The drinking wasn’t always a problem, it came and went as boyfriends left or she lost jobs due to her unaddressed issues. Sometimes it was too much wine, other times she turned to marijuana or spending rent money on scratch lottery tickets. Sarah never knew which one of her mother’s coping mechanisms would appear during an episode, she just knew better than to mention it when it happened. The narcissism never left though, that was something Sarah had been accustomed to since before her dad even left the picture.

Nevertheless, she made it out of the house and to the post office. 30 minutes later, Sarah had mailed her letter, though she did have to pay a bit of a ridiculous fee to mail it where she wanted. That was another feat that made her painfully aware of the distance between her and the best friend she hadn’t seen for months.

Three weeks after that, Sarah’s friend pulled her aside at lunch. She pressed a cream coloured envelope into her hand, not saying a word but giving her a soft smile. Sarah didn’t open the letter until she was on the bus ride home, but the fact that Ava had actually responded to her had the other girl giddy all day.

The replying letter was longer than Sarah expected, two pages of Ava saying she was so glad to hear from her. Ava was sorry that Sarah’s mother was being so cruel, stating that she wished things could be different. What got Sarah the most was the lilac scent wafting from the paper, Ava’s favourite perfume. Of course Ava would be the kind of person to spritz her stationary with her signature scent, just as much as she was the person to fold her letter into threes and seal it with a little anatomical heart sticker. It was the little things like that that made Sarah miss her even more, the little quirks that she would always associate with the other girl.

This started a bit of a routine. The letters took about a week to get to Ava and hers took a bit longer to make it to the US, for whatever reason. Their communication was not the greatest, slower and less frequent than either would like, but they made it work for a while. There was one day that Sarah’s friend, their in-between for correspondence, dragged her to her locker. She gave Sarah a teasing look when she passed her the small package along with a letter, saying that her mom had been confused about the mail since it was less conspicuous than usual. Still, it made Sarah’s day and she spent her afternoon in the corner of the library, going over Ava’s words.

The gift had been a dainty silver necklace, the charm attached to it making Sarah smile widely. It was a dopamine molecule, a neurotransmitter responsible for feelings of love. It was also appropriate because a lack of dopamine causes anxiety, which they both knew plagued Sarah greatly. While cheesy, the gift was so Ava and it was the first gift Sarah had received in a while. It made Sarah’s heart ache as much as it made her happy; what she wouldn’t give to hug her best friend at that point.

After putting the necklace on, she reread the letter. There was one portion that made her want to cry, to drop everything and figure out how to book a flight to South Africa even as a minor.

You’re always on my mind Sarah, as much as I’m embarrassed to admit it. Even though we’ve only spent two weeks in person together, I think you might be my favourite person. These last few months of letters have been a blessing and a curse. I miss your voice, your laugh, and I miss staying up until 4 AM just to talk to you. I miss you more than I thought I would and I’m so sorry things turned out this way. If I could, I would bring you here to live with me in a heartbeat. Forget parents and manipulation, you don’t deserve this. I’m worried, Sarah, You’re so far away and I don’t want to lose you. I know it's childish of me to say, but I just want to run away with you.

That, paired with the love signoff etched into the sweet, lilac scented paper, was enough to make Sarah weep. Ava cared about her, a lot, and Sarah couldn’t properly convey how important that was to her. She hadn’t felt truly loved in God knows how long, so the fact that she was so far away from and so cut off from the one person who made her feel special was so frustrating.

She read Ava’s letters over whenever she had bad days. It was her escape from her mother’s constant manipulation and gaslighting; a reminder that someone out there did love Sarah. She let herself get lost in Ava’s words, the scent of her perfume, and the feeling of her necklace under her fingertips. It wasn’t the same, it didn’t heal her like a hug would have, but it was enough in the moment. She didn’t want to admit how many times she had cried over those letters, though the tearstained paper would be indicative enough. She missed Ava so much and she so badly needed to hear her voice, just one more time. Hearing her speak those words, the promises she made, in that low accented tone would have been Sarah’s breaking point. Still, it was the one thing she wanted more than anything.

They exchanged letters for almost six months, to the point where they had their respective postal systems memorized. Over those months, despite everything, they even became closer. At some point, Ava admitted she had feelings for Sarah. Her letter was filled with apologies and promises that it shouldn’t ruin their friendship. Sarah wrote back and shyly admitted her own feelings, in an emotional note that ended up being smudged from tears. They weren’t dating, they never actually said that explicitly, but they knew they loved each other. The contact was so hard, it strained their relationship so much, but it was what both girls needed. As time went on Ava had no qualms with saying she loved her and every time Sarah read those words she felt her heart swell. Ava loved her, she really did. It made Sarah feel like the luckiest girl in the world, as cheesy as it was.

Sarah had just returned home from school, another envelope tucked carefully into her day planner, when her world flipped upside down. Her mother was in her room, reeking of alcohol, and she had Sarah’s hidden shoebox on the bed. All of Ava’s letters had been saved in that box, tucked away in the back of her closet so she could reread them when she needed to feel loved. The letters were strewn across the floor, some ripped to shreds already, and Sarah felt her heart drop.

“What did I say?” Her mother’s bleary eyes focused on her angrily, “Why do you think you can disobey me like this?”

“Mom, please-”

“No, Sarah,” the letter she had in her hands was tossed at her feet, “I don’t need any excuses. You think you own this house and my rules don’t matter? You’re planning to leave me, aren’t you? You’re going to run away to that little bitch and leave me. Just like your father did.”

Sarah was already crying, shaking with panic because it was all too much. Her letters were almost all destroyed, her mother’s anger palpable. It didn’t matter that Sarah knew she was drunk, it didn’t matter that her brain was telling her she was being manipulative and gaslighting her again. Her words stung regardless, the weight of everything crashing down on her. Sarah couldn’t breathe, was already flinching away from the woman who was supposed to love her unconditionally. Her brain was screaming at her to run but all she could do was sob out apologies because fleeing wasn’t an option.

“You’re just as bad as he is, as bad as all of them. You all want to hurt me, after all I’ve done for you? How ungrateful are you, Sarah Reese? Do you even love your mother?”

The fighting went on for what felt like hours. Sarah was beyond terrified, panic overrunning her system as she took every insult and lie her mother threw at her. She watched as she ripped up the remaining letters, tipped Sarah’s backpack upside down and found the one she hadn't even had a chance to read yet. She followed after her begging as she took the scraps of paper to the woodstove in their old kitchen, trying to reason with her even though there was no point. Her mother just sneered at her as she tossed the papers into the fire, shoving them under the burning kindling with the poker.

“Your phone and laptop are mine,” her words were hissed out, “You don’t leave this house for anything but school. That friend of yours who helped you send those disgusting letters? You will never speak to her again, you hear me?”

“Mom,” Sarah sobbed, “Don’t do this to me.”

“Sarah, I’m trying to help you. You don’t need them, none of them are your friends; they will only hurt you. That little Ava bitch doesn’t love you. No one loves you but me, baby; they all lie.”

Sarah’s stomach turned at that, wanting to throw up and scream at the same time. She shook her head fiercely, Ava did love her. She did, she told Sarah so.

“Mom, I love her,” she whispered brokenly, “Please. This isn’t me trying to hurt you. I love her and she says she loves me too.”

“Baby, no. You’re sick; this isn’t okay. You may think this gay thing is normal and okay but it’s not. It’s ruining my little girl and I won’t stand for it. You will stay here with me and that is final, you understand?”

The pet names were said in a sickeningly sweet way and Sarah knew she would never win in this argument. Her mother’s word was law and Sarah had to accept that. She would have to obey or she would get sent to yet another summer camp trying to brainwash her into liking men. The mood change was evidently another manipulation tactic, to make Sarah believe her mother was the only one who did love her. The cutting her off from everyone was one too, it was the same reason Sarah wasn’t allowed to have a job. She had to be completely dependent on her mother; that way she could never run away. It was horrible, made Sarah feel like a prisoner in her own home, but at the same time she was used to it. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t know how she would cope with this anymore.

“Go to your room, Sarah. We’re not speaking of this any longer.”

Sarah rushed back to her room, which was still an absolute disaster. Her things were overturned and broken, her clothes torn out of the dresser and her mattress half off the bed frame. All she could do was sob as she collapsed onto the floor, shaking like a leaf. She didn’t know how to calm down, didn’t know what would happen now. She needed Ava, she needed to hear her voice. Her brain was overrun with her mother’s words, the claim that Ava would never love her and that Sarah’s love was in some way disgusting. She just needed to hear her say it out loud, to promise that she did care about Sarah and her mother was lying.

It was all lies; everything was a lie. Sarah didn’t know what to believe anymore. All she knew was she was suffocating and she couldn’t live like this anymore; not without the girl she loved.

#HI THIS IS SAD IM SORRY #this is what happens when you’re the daughter of a narcissist #Sarah can have some more trauma... as a treat <3 #anyway... this sucks but whatever it’s one in the morning hsjskdk #my aus #my-writing #ava bekker #sarah reese #reesker #teen!ava #teen!sarah #teen!au #a chance meeting (twice over)#nosdecember #userglow #mutuals #neworleansspecial

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lost-in-the-spectrum · 4 years ago

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What is the Asperger-Syndrome?

Friends of the sun shine…

This is gonna be my very first tumblr post in English about a very personal and important topic I’d like to write about. You see the title and think ‘I heard of that, I know what it is’? Then f*ck you because you don’t.

First of all: My name is Helli, I am 25 years old and I’ve got the Asperger-Syndrome, now a days also known as Autism-Spectrum-Disorder. I’ve been suffering of bullying, misunderstanding, being let down and being unheard, being treated differently and badly just because I’ve behaved specifically during the spectrum and its issues. I was an introvert, a daydreamer, a comic- and video game geek... especially the last point might be an information where you go like ‘huh, that is actually cool’ but well... years ago it wasn’t. I was a nerd for others and nerds were meant to be uncool and unpopulare for a quite long time. Unfair? Yes, it is. But do you think anyone did care those days? No.

Anyways, before I start to tell you something about this syndrome – and before I do the same mistake as I did 5 years ago making a video for my German YouTube channel to talk about it – I’d like to mention that all I tell you in this post is only ABOUT ME. Every autistic person is DIFFERENT and not everyone got the same issues or strengths as me. So please before you drop every autistic person in one box which I accidently did in the video I mentioned before, please remember: THIS IS JUST ABOUT ME. Yet I will drop some general informations about that syndrome as well. And maybe you recognize yourselves or other people and friends, maybe you’re autistic yourself then let me know in every possible way you want.

What is the Asperger-Syndrom (medical)?

It is a profound developmental disorder with issues in social communicating, correct interpretation of facial expressions and gesturing. People with the Asperger-Syndrome are most of the time hardly interested in any topic but create a special huge interest in certain topics. Most of them are, like with me, video games and comics, computer and technology in general, sometimes even different kinds of science or arts. In some individual cases people with this syndrome are incredibly good at mathematics or speaking (linguistically gifted) but at the same time these people are not able to do other simple things. Me as an example: Never mind how much I practised, how good the teacher was, I always wrote bad exams in mathematics even tho I understood what I did in the homeworks before and even in some very simple exercises I do the one or other mistake. BUT even tho I’ve hardly read a book in my life because – I am not gonna lie – books (novels) are uninteresting for me I am very good at speaking, writing, formulating, describing things (...) I am pretty good at articulating myself. So I eventually belong to these people who are linguistically gifted. I can only tell that my dad – a former German teacher – is even kinda impressed about my way of speaking because I – as I have already told – hardly hold a book in my hands. I only remember three novels I’ve read in my whole life and those books where lucky to be interesting enough for me.

Anyways... those are the main signs and behaviors of people with this syndrome. Of course the Asperger-Syndrome is not the only disorder. The spectrum is pretty huge and includes many other Autism-Disorders. Not only other names but also syndromes with the same name but with some little deviations in behavior and ‘gifts’. So while I have not such a huge problem with maybe speaking with people and explaining them how I feel and see the world (as long as they give me the chance to do so) other people with the same syndrome might have big issues in formulating and ordering their feelings, describing them etc. While I really want to become an educater and work with children and teenagers to help them on the right way – I even want to work in special institutions for people with depressions and other conditions – other people with the Asperger-Syndrome completely avoid people and social contact or at least prefer jobs where they can be for their own.

These are only some examples for the issues or strengths people with this syndrome have to deal with. Other examples – where I can relate – are these...

Being not interested in other children as a child and prefering to play on their own.

Misunderstanding things and informations which are said because these people sometimes have an own way to say and describe these things.

Being unable to use the correct facial expressions to a certain feeling as well as misunderstanding them on other people. – almost the same issue which they have with told things.

Unable to be flexible and spontanious, prefering to know appointments and meetings at least one day earlier, even tho it is spending time on the beach with friends.

Mostly having a strict day structure and plan and having issues to change them.

Sometimes not interested in other people but in objects. I for example am more imperessed of a note book having a nice cover than of a handsome man.

Most of the time for their own and focused on their own life, problems etc. Which you can mix up very easily with ‘just being day dreaming’ Which seems egoistic to other people.

Sometimes not even able to show emotions or at least they have a limited number of emotions on stock.

They often do things everytime on the one and same way – Much alike this day structure thing – and while other people get bored very quickly by that people with this syndrom actually love it to know what’s coming next and that it is everyday the same. (This is because these people really want to have the ultimate control on everything they do.)

Now we come to the points which some autistic people can relate but indeed not everyone of them:

Having a bad ‘inter navigation’ which means that they’re pretty bad at reading maps, finding a simple way even tho there are signs and shields telling them where to go and even tho someone once walked the way together with them. (I am one of them. Other Autists are pretty good at navigation and geography.)

Reminding information or images by first sight (photographic mind, like the boy who flew over a city with a helicopter and drew the whole city down only by viewing it once.)

Being able to solve a mathematic exercise in their head within 30 seconds or less.

Having a higher IQ from 113 up to 200, also known as ‘extremly gifted’ (unfortunately not everyone... I’ve met some people...)

Being very tidy, ordered and hygenic. (also not everyone. For example me: I am captain Chaos.)

Being very sensitive if it’s about smell, flavor, feeling, light, noises etc. (I’ve got only some noises which freak me out and sometimes I can’t deal with the sun light because it is just way to bright for me. That’s why some autistic people always use noise-cancelling headphones or sunglasses.)

Having issues with being in a relationship including love and sex life. (Not me: I have got a boyfriend without Autism and we come along pretty well actually. We do also fight like ‘normal’ people. There is hardly a difference. Yet there are some other kinds of people.)

There are also autistic people who behave much more extreme than the examples I’ve written down. Some of them still ‘belong’ to the Asperger-Spectrum, others already drift into the ‘Kanner-Spectrum’ which is known as the ‘Autism’ which comes up to our minds when we hear about it. It’s the ultimate image most of the people still have when they hear about ‘Autism’: Swinging around on the chair or floor and not noticing anyone speaking to them: caught in their ‘own world’. Behaving uneasy, having no respect or not accepting distance. Some of them even’d like to touch your ‘private zone’ because they think it is interesting but don’t understand that it is not okay – or even sexual harassment – to do so. Hurting themselves by hitting their head against the wall – for example – if they’re told to do what they don’t want to. In general known as easily provocating people, aggressive and having no control over their own actions.

This is a completely other topic tho. So if you’d like to have a list with examples and definitions of different Autism-Spectrums, just let me know!

Now: What is the Asperger-Syndrome for me?

Even tho some ‘

social justice warriors

’ or other autistic people will hate me for that I tell you what it is for me: A disorder and a disability and also an other view of life.

Are disorders and disabilities bad for me? Is it bad and wrong to call Autism like that? No. Why? Because people are used to use these words as offenses or general in a negative point? Sry, that’s not my problem. If these people seriously yell at me calling my own Autism as disorder and disability, because they find it bad and discrimanting - because their definition of it is negative - then those people are discriminating – not me - because they think disabled people with a disorder are negative in some way and that’s why it’s wrong to call them like that. This is discriminating and hurting by these people and they do anything with this attitude except something good.

Autism is a disorder. Autism is a disability. This is a fact and this doesn’t make us to worse or less valuable people than others. If you really automatically think my disability makes myself less valuable to others it means to me that you think it is something negative too and this is discriminating! Never mind how you try to turn it.

So why is it a disability and disorder besides the medical fact that it is? 1st I am disabled in social communication. Never mind how good I probably am in articulating myself and formulating things, I still don’t now how to start a conversation, how to get to know someone, not even how to meet people. In fact I am even nervous about meeting new people, being in a room with strange new people with whom I am supposed to work closer in future is a bit hard for me. I am incredibly insecure, especially because of my bullying experience.

I hate having small-talk or being unnecessary ‘polite’ ... like not saying the total truth about something and lie a little bit instead to make people not feel uncomfortable which is wrong in my opinion. But that’s how society works. And while people without Autism know how ‘the cookie crumbles’ and they have no issues with behaving like this I feel uneasy about it and as honest I am with my words and thoughts, so am I with my feelings which means that I can’t hide it when I’m feeling uneasy. Society feels uneasy about me feeling uneasy because these ‘simple’ society actions. You see where this goes.

2nd I have issues with reading faces and recognizing voices. That means I can’t always tell if a person is angry, annoyed, okay or happy and I can’t tell by the person’s voice if he or she is angry, stressed, annoyed, sad, anything like this which is usually also a special key to some kind of social communication. All I can do is ask if he or she is okay or what’s the matter but I have met many people in my life and some of them think that it should be so obvious how they feel that I must be a silly cunt to not notice it. Or maybe worse: they think I don’t care and I pretend to care to make people think that I am a good person but in fact I am ignorant. Yes, that’s what some people once thought of me.

3rd I am disabled to have a normal everyday life in – for example - summer time when it is hot outside. It’s not like just being done because it’s so warm and I am sweating, no. People who know me well have seen me during hot summer times and I am absolutely useless. I am like totally done, almost dead if you really want to know. In case that I go outside because the temperatures are not too hot and I am able to move in the sun (and because I need food, you know, don’t wanna starve) there is an other problem: the sun light. I go out, the sun and its light burns down on me and suddenly I hardly see a thing, everything I watch shines in a horrible bright light and literally blends me. I need to wear sunglasses for that, sometimes even in the late afternoon when the sun light isn’t that bright anymore. Even then, because my Autism is also a kind of ‘high sensibility’ if it’s about sun light or certain kind of noises and sounds. In addition I am not always able to handle stress and busy situations. Stress knocks me out sometimes and it’s not like just being stressed, no. Sometimes I start crying. I’m having an overload, a so-called meltdown (which is also something I’d like to write about in an other post) which means I am crying for hours and having a mental and emotional break down. All the emotions I actually felt for a quite long time and which I’ve held back because I know that in these situations these emotions would make them worse... all these emotions, sometimes including emotions I think I didn’t even know that they exist, are coming out. It’s like me being a huge frozen mointain, completely made of ice, the emotions which come out because of the stress are getting hot and making my frozen shell melt and break down... I am literally a frozen vulcano who explodes with all its emotions. Now tell me: do you think I could work in a stressy job for eight or more hours a day without having these break downs?

To the question why it is a disorder: No person has got the right to decide what’s normal and what’s not. But comparing my issues and my behavior in certain situations because of my condition to the behavior of other people without this condition, it is definitely a disorder. When it comes to the situations I am disable to handle ... it is like me being a television which loses its signal right within a good television show. I have literally no signal in these moments. I am having a disruption. Do you say your television is not having a disruption then? ‘It is not having a disruption, it is just special.’ God damn, that sounds kinda discrimanting, doesn’t it?

I am disabled. I’m having a disorder. But that doesn’t make me to a bad person and less valuable than anyone else. You know, I can learn, how to communicate. I can learn, what to do in stressy situations. I can learn to read expressions, learn and study different expressions or the sound of voices in different emotions. I can learn this all.

Disability is a medical fact for me. It describes or is a ‘name’ for the issues we have. I will always be disabled like – even tho this is an extreme example, don’t blame me for that, please – a person who’s sitting in the wheel chair because he or she lost his or her leg in an accident, in a war, anything like that. BUT as this person can learn to walk with a prothesis so they won’t be stopped at all, so I can and will learn to communicate and manage my life and find my place in this world. I will always be disabled but I’ll never be impaired. I don’t wanna be changed or even pitied, I want to be accepted and luckily there are people who accept and also love me the exact way I am.

I really want to mention again: please, don’t blame or hate me for comparing me with a person who lost a leg and has to sit in the wheel chair... I know this life is worse and it is horrible and not really comparable with my disorder. But I just want to make a point.

Autism is an other way of to be and even tho there are so many different autistic people everyone of ‘us’ is different and when you know one autistic person then you know exactly one. Only one. Meet more of us and you’ll know who we really are.

I hope you took the time to read it all and that I could explain at least a little to you what the Asperger-Syndrome is. There are some informations in the internet and in some books, medical facts and experiences as well as personal ones, blogs like this or even youtube channels. Feel free to check them all out but please educate yourself correctly and stop putting us all in a box.

Thanks for reading. Good bye!

#autism #autism spectrum condition #autism spectrum disorder #autism spectrum #asperger #aspergers #asperger syndrome #lost in the spectrum #enlightenment #education

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