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pinkmelodie · 8 months ago

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The Red Means I Love You ❤︎

Summary: Jason Todd x fem!Reader. You and Jason used to date before you left to stay with the Titans. You both miss each other more than you’d like to admit, but stay out of contact. Fast forward to after he died, you encounter Redhood. Old feeling stir, and before you know it you’re bent over the motorcycle of someone you swore you’d leave in the past.

Warnings: Angst -> smut, 18+, p in v, unprotected s$x, mentions of death & terrorism.

A/N: This takes place right after s3ep2, right after they find out Redhood’s identity :3

You didn’t fully know what was happening; just that there were too many hostages in the building—all who would be killed if not evacuated immediately. You were about to run and help the rest of the titans get everyone as far away as possible before Kory pulled you aside.

You went to protest before she quickly interrupted you, “Go search for Jason.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Uhm, what?”

“Look, I have a feeling he’ll listen to you better than anyone.” she said. “Jasons not someone who can be brought down by force. Shit, he came back from the fucking dead, you think he’s gonna let us beat this new…phase out of him?”

You wanted to argue, but Kory wasn’t someone who was wrong often. She had a good point, and you knew you had to follow it.

“We’ve got this under control,” she assured, resting a reassuring but firm hand on your shoulder. “Go.”

You were skeptical, especially when you could see Gar in the distance shaking in his boots trying to convince an old lady to let him help her down the steps, and citizens clearly getting whiplash from Connor moving them to safety too fast. Your team was…definitely something, but with some hesitance you finally turned and ran in the direction of the one member you wanted to see.

…

“Jason!” You called out, your voice echoing through the barren alley. Gotham was creepy enough already without walking in some sketchy, busted up route in the pitch dark.

You kept calling but the only response you got was your own voice echoing back to you. You tried to scratch your mind for something to say that could persuade him, but you came up blank. Guilt ate at your conscience when you remembered that you hadn’t spoken to him for months before he died.

To be honest, Jason never had anyone in his life to begin with. He told you that along with all his other secrets, and you still broke his heart.

You stayed with the titans, thinking he was being naive for not wanting to. You didn’t think about the fact they never once tried to help him, or ever see him as more than an immature kid. They didn’t have the energy to help Jason through his issues so they just abandoned ship, sending him right back to Bruce and his horrible coping mechanisms.

As much as you wanted to be angry at Dick, or Kory or really anyone else for letting that happen, you had to face that you played your part.

Jason Todd died alone. He died feeling like no one would miss him, like he was a failure of a Robin and a failure of a titan. Because even after everything, all he wanted to do was prove himself.

So, yeah. Admittedly the first words you chose to say were not a good idea. Probably should’ve seen that one coming, but you never were too good at comforting him. was anyone?

“It didn’t have to be like this, you can still come back to the titans!” You tried to coax him, almost immediately regretting it. You quickly shut your mouth, tho the damage was already done. You just prayed he wasn’t here—he didn’t need to be provoked into blowing your brains out.

Only when your muscles stopped tensing and you thought you got lucky, a voice you couldn’t even recognize rumbled above you. It shot ice up your veins and you would’ve frozen in place if you weren’t so adiment on seeing him again.

“Still taking about the titans? Why am I surprised.” He taunted, tilting his head in a gesture so familiar it made your heart ache. When you spun around you were met with someone you couldn’t believe was really Jason. He was standing on some rusted fire escape, a steel red mask boring right through you.

You tensed, but not out of fear. No, you could never be scared of Jason, not the same nerd who woke up early to make you breakfast or who secretly wore reading glasses.

You debated messaging him for months after your breakup, paragraphs on paragraphs you never sent. You had so much to say to him before, so why now did your mind go blank?

It was hard to see what he was feeling with the mask, but you could tell he was expecting a snarky remark back. When you just stood there dumbfounded, he sighed. “Look, I’m done trying to prove myself to them. To Bruce, to everyone! I don’t have to be some fucking nobody y/n, and neither do you.”

Now that made you snap out of whatever trance you were in. “‘and neither do you’? What are you trying to do, advertise me the life of crime?”

He groaned, “I don’t know why I ever tried with you. The titans are just a bunch of fucked up people acting like one big happy family, is that what you wanted? Are you happy you made that choice?” He sneered.

There was malice in his tone, but it wasn’t real. he didn’t feel angry anymore, just betrayed.

He would’ve splayed his heart out for you on a silver platter if you asked, just for you to turn your back on him. You followed him in his dreams, haunted him every time he smelt a familiar perfume, even appeared behind his shut eyelids while the life drained out of him. You were a part of him, and from what he knew you’d never looked back when you stormed out that day.

That’s why it shocked him when tears started to well in your eyes. God, your eyes—the ones he would subconsciously buy clothes of in the same colour. “You could’ve came with me,” you whispered.

Your meek tone broke something in him. His shoulders relaxed and in a blink he leaped down, knees bending upon landing on the hard ground in front of you. Seeing him like this; the mask concealing his identity, various weapons strapped to his thighs and seemingly more toned than the last time you saw him—you could understand why everyone was on edge.

He stood there motionless, a silent and intimidating presence before you. You both stood there in unbearable silence until finally, he lifted his mask off.

His features were lit beautifully by the dim street light, eyes glinting ever so slightly. He looked exhausted—more troubled now, but you knew, despite everything, this was Jason. Your Jason, not who he was manipulated into.

“No, I couldn’t have.” he muttered begrudgingly, “they made that very clear.”

“So what, you just become a terrorist? Is that your idea of solving your problems?”

His fists clenched in barely concealed anger. “Bruce couldn’t save Gotham, so he abandoned it. I’ll be the one to fix it.”

“By running around in a new suit and planting bombs everywhere? Real great strategy.” You rolled your eyes, but started to blush when you stared at him too long in the plated suit that fit him perfectly. You quickly caught yourself ogling and looked away, assuming he wouldn’t catch the red tinge on your face.

You don’t know how you ever thought he wouldn’t notice. Of course he noticed, it’s Jason Todd.

For fucks sake, the guy noticed every detail about you. The way you’d avoid eye contact when nervous, the pace of your blinking quickening when you were lost in thought, the slight heighten of your voice when you were excited about something. All these tiny things and you thought he just wouldn’t notice the way you eyed him down all red in the face?

Come on, you were basically writing your true feelings out to him in big, bold… ..red letters…

and it’s not like Kory ever specified exactly what to do once you found him… .. .

So that’s how you ended up bent against his motorcycle in some busted up alleyway, pussy spread open on his dick.

You gasped and clawed pointlessly at his covered back; nails clinking uselessly against the metal armour of his suit.

Your own suit was pulled off just enough to get access to your cunt, panties pulled to the side so he could plunge his thick cock into you.

He was groaning more than he used to, and you could swear you even heard him whine. His pace was ruthless, thrusts messy but coordinated. He kept trying to push further inside you, pressing his body as close to you as possible like you would vanish at any moment.

“Fuckfuckfuck-“ he rambled. Death heightened all of his senses—made things have so much more of an impact on him. Maybe he just missed you too much, or maybe he let himself forget how good you feel.

To be fair, you were far worse off than him. You would’ve alerted everyone in Gotham if he wasn’t covering your mouth with a gloved hand, though it’s not like anyone here would bat an eye to screaming.

“My poor baby just been lonely, s’that it?”He teased, manhandling you by your hips to meet his harsh thrusts.

“Nobody to fill up this pretty hole like I do, such a shame,” he pouted in faux sympathy, as if he wasn’t balls deep at the moment.

“I’m back now. Fuck the titans, I’ve always treated you better, haven’t I?” He’s fucking your ability to form coherent words right out of your throat, but he knows your answer when you squeeze around him.

“Jay!” you moaned into his palm. Your cunt was squelching embarrassingly loud with each thrust, thighs shaking so hard you for sure would’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up. Every drag of his cock in you hit the perfect spots, just like he remembered you love.

“You don’t even care that I’m red hood, do you?” he asked, his tone full of confidence. “Nah, you don’t. So fucking wet, does my suit get you off princess?”

He moved his hand to play with your clit, getting it soaked with your fluids. You were too cock-drunk to lie bite back, just nodding desperately and mewling out something akin to a yes.

He smirked. “Pussys sucking me in the same too, fuck- I missed this. I missed you.”

He acted cocky when he was fucking you like this because it’s the only way he was sure you even wanted to be around him. Not much to complain about when his big dick is ravaging you, no?

Deep down he always felt right at home with you. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would give up red hood for you. He’d give up anything for you, actually. Nothing mattered as long as you were with him. And he wasn’t letting you go this time.

With the ministrations on your clit and him pounding into you, it wasn’t a surprise when that knot in your stomach came undone quickly. Especially not with how many failed orgasms you had with your fingers, pretending it was him.

Ever attentive, he noticed immediately. “You gonna come, baby? Try not to get any on the new suit.” He winked, as if you were gonna squirt for him. (You have, many times.)

The cherry on top was when he unexpectedly flipped his mask back down and leaned in to whisper right into your ear with that deep voice, “come for me”

And you were gone. You came with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and toes curling. Your pussy gushed all over his dick, forming a white ring around it that you could see every time he slammed his hips.

Seeing your pretty face so euphoric was what sent him over the edge, and grudgingly he pulled out, pearly white cum shooting all over your stomach.

You spent a minute regaining your breath while he pressed gentle kisses all over your throat. He only let up when you whined at the slight pain of the pressure on your newly forming hickeys. He tucked himself back into his pants and re-adjusted his belt. You were wondering if he planned on just leaving until he took his coat off and wrapped it around you.

He moved you so you were set down properly on the back of his motorcycle and then stepped on. You instinctively laid against his back, resting your head on his shoulder and he admired you with pure adoration.

“Wrap your arms around me babe,” he hummed, affectionately rubbing your thigh that was pressed to his.

When your brain finally caught up to what was happening you gave him a confused look.“Wha- wait! Where are we going?”

He looked at you like you were crazy for even questioning it. “Home,” he laughed, “what? Did you think death was gonna do us part, baby?”

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literaryvein-reblogs · 3 months ago

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George Orwell's 11 Rules for the Perfect Cup of Tea

George Orwell:

If you look up ‘tea’ in the first cookery book that comes to hand you will probably find that it is unmentioned; or at most you will find a few lines of sketchy instructions which give no ruling on several of the most important points. This is curious, not only because tea is one of the mainstays of civilization in this country, as well as in Eire, Australia and New Zealand, but because the best manner of making it is the subject of violent disputes. When I look through my own recipe for the perfect cup of tea, I find no fewer than 11 outstanding points. On perhaps two of them there would be pretty general agreement, but at least four others are acutely controversial. Here are my own 11 rules, every one of which I regard as golden:

First of all, one should use Indian or Ceylonese tea. China tea has virtues which are not to be despised nowadays—it is economical, and one can drink it without milk—but there is not much stimulation in it. One does not feel wiser, braver or more optimistic after drinking it. Anyone who has used that comforting phrase ‘a nice cup of tea’ invariably means Indian tea.

Secondly, tea should be made in small quantities—that is, in a teapot. Tea out of an urn is always tasteless, while army tea, made in a cauldron, tastes of grease and whitewash. The teapot should be made of china or earthenware. Silver or Britanniaware teapots produce inferior tea and enamel pots are worse; though curiously enough a pewter teapot (a rarity nowadays) is not so bad.

Thirdly, the pot should be warmed beforehand. This is better done by placing it on the hob than by the usual method of swilling it out with hot water.

Fourthly, the tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right. In a time of rationing, this is not an idea that can be realized on every day of the week, but I maintain that one strong cup of tea is better than twenty weak ones. All true tea lovers not only like their tea strong, but like it a little stronger with each year that passes—a fact which is recognized in the extra ration issued to old-age pensioners.

Fifthly, the tea should be put straight into the pot. No strainers, muslin bags or other devices to imprison the tea. In some countries teapots are fitted with little dangling baskets under the spout to catch the stray leaves, which are supposed to be harmful. Actually one can swallow tea-leaves in considerable quantities without ill effect, and if the tea is not loose in the pot it never infuses properly.

Sixthly, one should take the teapot to the kettle and not the other way about. The water should be actually boiling at the moment of impact, which means that one should keep it on the flame while one pours. Some people add that one should only use water that has been freshly brought to the boil, but I have never noticed that it makes any difference.

Seventhly, after making the tea, one should stir it, or better, give the pot a good shake, afterwards allowing the leaves to settle.

Eighthly, one should drink out of a good breakfast cup—that is, the cylindrical type of cup, not the flat, shallow type. The breakfast cup holds more, and with the other kind one’s tea is always half cold—before one has well started on it.

Ninthly, one should pour the cream off the milk before using it for tea. Milk that is too creamy always gives tea a sickly taste.

Tenthly, one should pour tea into the cup first. This is one of the most controversial points of all; indeed in every family in Britain there are probably two schools of thought on the subject. The milk-first school can bring forward some fairly strong arguments, but I maintain that my own argument is unanswerable. This is that, by putting the tea in first and stirring as one pours, one can exactly regulate the amount of milk whereas one is liable to put in too much milk if one does it the other way round.

Lastly, tea—unless one is drinking it in the Russian style—should be drunk without sugar. I know very well that I am in a minority here. But still, how can you call yourself a true tea-lover if you destroy the flavour of your tea by putting sugar in it? It would be equally reasonable to put in pepper or salt. Tea is meant to be bitter, just as beer is meant to be bitter. If you sweeten it, you are no longer tasting the tea, you are merely tasting the sugar; you could make a very similar drink by dissolving sugar in plain hot water.

Some people would answer that they don’t like tea in itself, that they only drink it in order to be warmed and stimulated, and they need sugar to take the taste away. To those misguided people I would say: Try drinking tea without sugar for, say, a fortnight and it is very unlikely that you will ever want to ruin your tea by sweetening it again. These are not the only controversial points to arise in connection with tea drinking, but they are sufficient to show how subtilized the whole business has become. There is also the mysterious social etiquette surrounding the teapot (why is it considered vulgar to drink out of your saucer, for instance?) and much might be written about the subsidiary uses of tealeaves, such as telling fortunes, predicting the arrival of visitors, feeding rabbits, healing burns and sweeping the carpet. It is worth paying attention to such details as warming the pot and using water that is really boiling, so as to make quite sure of wringing out of one’s ration the 20 good, strong cups that two ounces, properly handled, ought to represent.

Published in the Evening Standard, 12 January 1946

More: George Orwell

#george orwell #tea #food #writing inspiration #writeblr #writing reference #spilled ink #dark academia #literature #essay #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #writing prompt #poetry #creative writing #light academia #writing resources

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soft--dogs · 7 months ago

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I have some more chibi pride YCH designs available! They'll all be the same style when finished, don't mind the sketchiness of the new designs x) These are all $40 per slot, and will be open through June! ^_^ *Please note, my queue going forward is pretty long, so completion dates will probably be towards the end of June and going into July! Some YCH rules: - MUST have ref sheet or image of character I can work from. - Most furry species should work, sorry no human characters! - Any pride flags can go where the rainbow parts are. - Can add additional simple pride accessories - collar, bandana, glasses, piercings, bracelets, etc. for no extra charge. - Simple outfits can be added to all besides the undies chibi! - Final commission will have a transparent background w/ white outline around character. Feel free to edit your comm for personal use! (as an icon, into memes, onto your own backgrounds, etc.) - Payment through Paypal invoice only. - Turnaround time is about one month. DM me if you're interested in grabbing a slot! ^w^

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thevanillerose · 3 months ago

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LEATHER | DABI x BLIND!READER | MY HERO ACADEMIA

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

Coarse. Soft. Plush. Hard.

Your world was defined by these words. It always had been. Blind from birth, you were used to being steeped in darkness, but because you had never known anything different, it wasn't something that made you feel bad. If anything, you weren't sure why people felt so sorry for you. Why they would express such pity towards you when they found out about your affliction.

You were getting on just fine, right? So truly...there were people out there who were far more deserving of their well meant concerns than you were. You didn't need anyone to worry over you.

Perhaps the only thing you wished you could have sight for was to know what you looked like. Somehow your parents were a perfect image in your mind, it was as if you could envision them anyway, despite your own impairment. When it came to you personally though, well...you didn't have the faintest clue.

Were you ugly? Pretty? People always claimed it was the latter, but how were you to know if they were lying or not? There was truly no way of telling.

So that was maybe the one thing that did bother you. The rest of it though, you could deal with. You would be alright.

In fact, you were so brave with it that you would walk home alone at any time of night, no qualms about it. Sure, there had been talk of a mysterious killer on the loose lately, but the most you had heard were vague rumors that you strongly doubted held any actual water.

Like hell you were going to get scared!

Once again, you were out in the early hours. Your senses were always on max settings anyway, so if someone happened to be pursuing you, you would pick up on it in a split. However, it wasn't what lay behind you that you needed to worry about.

A few steps forward, and suddenly you bumped into something. Staggering backwards, you immediately registered that it was a person, and instantly doubled over into a respectful bow of apology. “Sorry! Excuse me...I didn't see you there...” It was quite amusing to use a line like that, given that it was rarely so literal.

The fellow turned and cast his piercing turquoise eyes upon you, observing you in silence. The air was immediately tense.

Dabi hadn't been expecting you to run into him out of nowhere. The streets were usually quiet at this time, he'd go looking for trouble in certain spots sure, but those were usually the obvious ones, like your sketchy backwater nightclubs and 'massage parlors'.

One look at you, and he was confused. “...What are you doing out here alone?”

Male...I figured. Judging by his voice...he's probably around my age...

“I...I usually come out at any time, really. I was just picking up some supplies-” You held up the plastic bag filled with goodies from the 24 hour mart. He stared at it for a moment, before letting his eyes flicker back to you again. “It's dangerous.”

“Well-” you lowered the bag and shrugged, “-I know that's what they say but...if I stayed inside just because I was scared, it would be like handing over control to whatever bad guys are out there. It would be like they were already winning.”

He quirked a black brow. Interesting take.

“...You're brave.” You heard him take a few steps forward, around your side, behind you. Shuddering, you could sense his fingertips gliding ever so lightly against the back of your shoulder, across the nape of your neck and to your other arm. “How do you know you've not just run into an enemy though?”

Well now you were really wondering. “...Because...you're standing out here on the pavement, right by the road. People like that usually lurk in the shadows...” “It's dark enough out here though.” he stated, as he circled around to your front again, and you could sense him standing closer than before, “There's nobody else around...no cameras watching...just you and me. I could get away with anything.”

Now the fear was setting in. He was certainly talking like a killer...so could he really be? You swallowed uneasily and tried to step around him, but his hand caught your side and pushed you back, prompting you to drop the bag as you jolted. Those cartons of chocolate milk you'd bought were scattered.

“Please, I don't want any trouble!” you insisted, and he tilted his head. “Maybe you should have watched where you were going. Maybe you shouldn't have been walking out alone at night.” “I-I'm entitled to!” “So am I.”

“...You're the killer they've been talking about?” “Maybe.”

This was insane. Even you felt like you were being reckless now. However, you needed to find some way to excuse yourself or run from him. You'd worry about calling the police when you were somewhere safe. Then again, what would you even tell them?

“Look...I...if you let me go I won't say a word...” you promised, but he simply scoffed. “Yes you will, don't lie. You're going to file a police report at the first chance you get.” “No! No I won't because, because I wouldn't even be able to in the first place!” “...And what is that supposed to mean? You've seen my face, my location, I basically admitted to you that I'm the killer. Of course you can file a report.”

“...” Telling him this seemed like as much of a bad idea as a good one...but you would do it.

“...I...I don't know what you look like. I can't see you.” There was a long pause. Dabi stared at you, blinking a few times, before leaning in just a little bit. “...Excuse me?” “I-I said I can't see you. Because I'm blind.”

That threw him for a total loop. He hadn't been expecting it. Though now that he really looked at you, he supposed that your eyes weren't really focusing on anything in particular, and they certainly weren't looking at him. So, well, he believed it.

What now?

“...Okay. So you're blind. I suppose that...removes the problem for me.” “A-are you still going to kill me?” you dared to ask, and there was another frightening pause, before he sighed. “...No...There's little point in it. Just another mess I'd have to clean up.”

Instantly you were almost bowled over by a wave of relief. “Th-thank you!” you gasped out, and quickly crouched down to find the items you'd dropped. Dabi watched you fumbling for a moment, your hand patting the ground as it tried to find what it was looking for.

He didn't quite know why. Perhaps there was just something tender about you, either way, he ended up crouching down to pick up the carton.

At the very moment he reached out though, so too did you, and for a split second, your knuckles brushed.

Instantly you recoiled and gasped. What you'd just touched, it was unexpected. “What was that??” “Hm? Oh right...you can't see it.” Dabi sighed and put the carton back in the bag but remained crouching there in front of you, examining his own hand. “...My skin isn't really what you'd call regular.”

Admittedly, you were curious. He seemed to be behaving more calmly and rationally right now too. Would it really be so bad if you asked?

“May I...touch it again?” “Huh?” Dabi quickly looked at you, brow furrowing. “...Why?” “Because I...I suppose I'm just curious. I won't if it bothers you...I've just...never felt anything like that before.”

What am I doing? What am I doing!? This guy's a killer!! ...Why am I being nice to him?

Perhaps the better question would have been vice versa. For Dabi actually conceded, brushing your hand with his again and allowing you to gently run your fingers up his wrist. You didn't even know his name, and yet you were crouched on the ground with him, caressing his arm and feeling how rough, tight the skin was...like it had been burned to a crisp.

“...What happened to you?” you had to ask him, noticing there were hard staples plastered in there too, as if he were some zombie that had been stitched up. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you reached up with both hands this time, laying them gently against his cheeks and cupping his face.

His jaw was much the same. It felt similar, like he was damaged. But you could tell his face wasn't unpleasant. He had a good structure, you could tell- “What are you doing?” His voice suddenly sounded, a little sternly so, and his hands took your wrists just to guide them down again. Hesitating, you lowered your head.

“I'm sorry...I act a little rash sometimes...” “...It's fine. I can tell.” he uttered, but he hadn't let you go just yet. “...But I think I'd rather know about you. How did you become blind?”

This was such an odd situation to be in. Confessions on a dirty pavement, and confessions to a supposed killer no less. What if you said the wrong thing and he just ended you right here and now? This scarred man did seem to have a cold disposition...but for some reason...you wanted to open up to him anyway.

“I didn't really 'become' blind, I've been like this from birth.” you explained, and though you couldn't see it of course, his eyes widened. “...Oh?”

“Yeah, so...hah...I don't even know what I look like. Sometimes I imagine I must be the scariest thing walking around out here.”

Dabi's hands slowly slipped away, making you worry. He laid them in his own lap, and watched you. The concerned emotions flickering across your face, like you were suddenly fearful you'd admitted too much. You were obviously nervous around him, but it was like you didn't want to deter him either.

Is he really the killer? I want to run, and yet...I don't.

His hand slowly extended towards you again. That unmistakable touch against the skin of your cheek, as he let it rest against your face. You could feel his thumb, gently rubbing in a circle. Your hammering heartbeat slowly calmed. You found yourself sinking against his palm.

“You're a curious one. A bit of a weirdo.” he added, and cracked a smile you couldn't see. Maybe you somehow knew it was there regardless.

“But...you're pretty too.”

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

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dollscircus · 5 months ago

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Swing first, ask later. Chapter 2

(In my defence , I was trying to help a dog)

Chapter 1

Arkham Knight Jason Todd x vet!Reader

Words: 2.6k

Tags: Violence. Violence against reader. but they're fiiiiine.

Synopsis: You have little impulse control so when you slip through a fence to chase a stray dog, you get a lot more then you bargained for.

Maybe I should’ve thought more about those nights’ events going through the next few weeks but I kinda- pushed it to the back of my mind. Listen- being a vet can be stressful when half of the patients want to bite me in the face and sometimes even their bitchy owners want to do the same. It’s a struggle so yeah, I kinda forgot about it. Forgot isn’t the right word- pushed back? Sure. That works.

But back on topic, I was walking down the street during a usual rainy night in Gotham. I had gotten a call from a local that they had stopped a large stray dog wondering around near an old warehouse. They didn’t tell me much, but apparently the dog had been limping so I wanted to get there as soon as possible. The warehouse was old, so I didn’t pay it much mind which searching around for the dog.

Eventually I noticed a little white head poking from behind a dumpster, his fur was messy and dirty. He watched me curiously, I paused for a moment while looking at the dog.

“Oh hey handsome.” I smiled, kneeling down where I stood while pulling a small tub of wet dog food out of my bag. “I’ve got some food for you.”

I popped open the tub and set it on the ground slowly pushing it forward, the dog ever so slowly crept out from behind the dumpster. I couldn’t tell what breed the dog was, clearly a mix of many breeds. He sniffed the air while creeping closer, he was limping on his back left leg. I stayed as still as I could as the dog creeped closer, looking at me with big fearful sad eyes.

“It’s ok buddy, I’m not going to hurt you.” I said softly to him as he reached the tub, sniffing at the food for a few moments before he started to eat very quickly. I chuckled softly while watching him eat, a part of me wanted to reach out and pet him but decided against it.

I smiled softly while watching the dog, but a sudden sound caused both the dog and I to jump. The sound was probably as cat running around in the darkness. The dog scattered away from me with a little yelp, I cursed while watching the dog slip under a gap in the fence that surrounded the warehouse. This gave me a quick but decent look at his back leg. There was a wire tightly wrapped around his leg. The skin looked raw and infected.

“Fuck.” I cursed while gathering up the food tub and shoving it back into my bag. Logically, I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that crawling through a fence to a sketchy warehouse is a really terrible idea. Stupid. Reckless but hey, I grew up on the streets of Gotham. I’ve been in worst places.

The torn fence scratched at me a little while I crawled under the fence on my hands and knees, my hips got caught for a moment before I used all of my weight to pull myself forward. I huffed while standing up to look at my dirty hands, grumbling under my breath while wiping my hands on my pants.

Scanning around, I tried to spot the dog luckily I spotted the pup pretty quickly and he was standing by another dumpster watching me.

“Hey puppy.” I smiled while slowly walking over to the dog who was watching me with big curious eyes, I knelt down and offered my hand out with some dog treats. He sniffed my hand, clearly thinking for a moment before he started to eat. I chuckled softly when seeing his tail start to wag.

“Yeah, that’s the stuff. That’s our fancy treats.” I smiled while my other hand reached for the slip on leash I carried in my bag, I made sure to move very slowly while slipping it over his head. He didn’t seem to mind, licking my hand as his tail wagging weakly.

“See? I’m not so scary.” I chuckled softly before another sound startled me, one of the metal doors of the warehouse slamming open. Oh fuck. I snapped my head to look over my shoulder, only to come face to face with a heavily armoured guy, he had a cigarette between his teeth about to light it before he slowly turned his head over to me. I tensed up.

God fucking dammit. The one time my body picked freeze. Thanks.

The next few moments were filled with cursing, barking and snarling. It was mostly all a blur, I think- I bit him? I tasted blood between my teeth, and felt blood dripping down my head when he slammed my head into the dumpster then the scream he let out when the dog sunk his teeth into his arm and wrenched it side to side ripping flesh.

The next clear memory I had was scrambling up to my feet, the leash still in hand (woah 10 outta 10 priorities there) and trying to run away with the dogs whose muzzle was still dripping with blood. My head was spinning with pain as I tried to run away but a sudden white hot pain shot through my calf sending my tumbling to the ground. I looked back at my leg, it seeped with blood. Looking further back I saw the man I just struggled with still holding the gun he shot my leg with.

He shot me. He fucked shot me!? Oh- that mother fucker-

I let go of the leash so the dog wasn’t tied to me and the dog ran away whimpering. I winced in pain while looking at my leg then flickering my eye up to the man while he spoke into a radio attached to his chest. Soon he stood over me, the swirling head pain stopped me from making out what he was really saying. I could see the blood splatter across his face- ooo I bit off some of his ear.

He said something but my head was killing me. All sounds seemed so distant and my head felt heavy. Don’t pass out, don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. Please. I begged myself while looking up at the figure. Fear and anger swirled in my chest while I tried to keep myself awake but I was quickly fading.

As everything seemed so distant and painful, another figure was approaching quickly. It was vaguely familiar but I couldn’t make out much. My vision was hazy when the figure swung for the first man, fist slamming into his temple.

Huh. That reminded me of someone?

—

I don’t know what I expected to wake up to when I passed out, I remembered the sound of bones cracking from the figure striking the man who attacked me. I woke up to warmth, warmth surrounding me as I woke up. My body was sore, aching with a dull pain while my heavy eyes tried to open. I didn’t know where I was, blinking in the dull light while I started to sit up in the cot bed I was laying in. I blinked a few times when seeing the dog, I was trying to catch curled up at the bottom of the bed. Back leg wrapped in a bandage.

Confusion clouded a lot of my judgment while looking around, welded metal walls. A desk in the corner of the room covered in papers. I couldn’t make out what else was written on the papers from this distance. I tried to move when pain shot through my leg, I hissed in pain before looking down at my bandaged leg. Where was I?

I glanced over the room again but jumped when seeing him on a chair in the corner of the room, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed over his check. The Arkham Knight. I stared at him, thinking back to the last thing I remembered before passing out. The figure. It was him and that punch. He swung with his whole body. I remembered Jason swinging his punches like that.

“You shouldn’t try to move to much yet.” He said after a moment of staring at each other. That almost made me laugh. I frowned a little at him.

“You patched me up.” I said, looking down at the bandage. The criss cross pattern caught my attention. Huh. Memories from my childhood flashed through my mind. Kneeling behind a dumpster while Jason wrapped up my arm after a stray cat I was trapping clawed up my arm painfully.

“I’m not as skilled with my hands as you.” He said, arms still crossed over his chest.

“Why?” I asked, eyes flicking down when the dog raised his head and yawned. Wagging his tail at me. The knight tilted his head to the side ever so slightly.

“Repaying the favour.” He said, like it was a very simple fact but I didn’t believe that completely. I moved to swing my legs off the bed, he tensed a little at my movement but I barely noticed it.

“There’s gotta be more to it. You could’ve just dumped me as the hospital or something.” I said, looking down to the dog who started to shuffle down the bed to sniff at my arm. I smiled softly at the dog while reaching down to pet the top of his head. The knight huffed, the sound coming out distorted by the helmet.

“That would be rude to the person you didn’t call the cops of me, when they really should’ve.” He said, voice a mix with amusement and irritation. I suddenly remembered comparing him to a stray dog, embarrassment crept up my neck.

“Then what about the dog? You didn’t owe him anything.” I raised an eyebrow at him. He didn’t respond staring at me, I couldn’t read him behind the helmet. Another question lingered in the back of my mind that I pushed away.

“What happened to the guy that shot me?” I asked another question furrowing my brow a little, he didn’t respond at first. I thought he wouldn't answer me at all until he did so.

“He’s dead.” He said, a few moments passed between us. “Does that scare you?”

I thought for a moment, did it? Maybe it was a little morbid. The guy shot me but I didn’t like someone dying.

“Scare me? No, I don’t- like it.” I said, fingers brushing through the fur of the dog. “If you were going to hurt me, you’d have done it already.”

He seemed to bristle a little, adjusting his position on the uncomfortable chair he was perched on. I looked back on my leg before I started to try and pull myself up. “I appreciate the help but I need to go-”

Pain seared through my leg as I started to fall forward, losing balance due to the sudden shock of pain. I cursed feeling myself about to fall but I felt arms bracing against my shoulders. I flicked my eyes up to the knight as he was suddenly leaning over my body as his hands kept me steady.

He said my name, “You can't be moving around on that leg yet.” He warned. I didn't realise how much bigger than me, he was until he was leaning over me and looking down at me. I can't pin point why the way he said my name really clued me in. I can’t describe it. It had a softness to it that Jason even as rough as he could be sometimes always said my name with.

“Well, I’ve never really been the careful type. You remember that, don’t you?” I said, looking up at his helmet. I could see his whole body tense a little. A long moment of silence stretched on. He knew what I was implying.

I know who you are.

“You’re right, you weren’t ever the careful type.” Jason said, his body language tense. Like a spring about to snap. A small smile crossed my face, tilting my head to the side. A few feelings rushed through me. How the hell did Jason become- this? I mean- the whole get up is kinda hot. Woah woah. Let’s not go that direction.

Didn’t know masks did something for me. Let’s not unpack that.

“Jason.” I said, voice slightly hushed while he set me back in the cot. Winced slightly at my leg. He leaned back, not moving away from the cot and just standing over me. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has been. Not how I thought this would go.” He said, taking a little step back after a moment. Jason tilted his head to the side a little, he still seemed tense.

“You thought about this?” I asked, a little smile crossing my face. Jason huffed indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest. I could exactly what expression he was making in that moment, the memory of a slightly more baby faced Jason making that exact sound.

“Don’t get all cheeky with me.” Jason scoffed, but he had zero heat behind it. “Even now you’re a trouble maker.”

I huffed, reaching over pet the dog beside me. “That guy attacked me first, I was happy to just walk away.”

He huffed behind that helmet, body language tightening. He turned his face away while he foot tapped the ground in irritation, “You know better to creep around warehouses like that.”

He was right, I sighed while rolling my shoulder uncomfortably. “I know, I was just worried about the dog.”

“You should worry about yourself more.” Jason said. I shrugged while rubbing my arm and scratching at my jaw. I flicked my eyes down to the dog who was now resting his muzzle on my thigh, I looked over the bandages around his back leg.

“Says the man who bandaged up the dog.” I raised a brow at him.

“You’d have been angry if I let the dog run away before anyone could help him.” He huffed, irritation in his voice but it didn't have much real anger behind it.

I let out a very light amused chuckle, looking up at the helment and trying to imagine what his face could look like now. “What happened?” I asked before I could stop myself, wincing at little at my own words. Jason turned his head back to me, even with the helmet I could feel the weight of his gaze on me.

“Nothing you should be involved with.” He said, that lightness in his voice replaced by some coldness that wounded my heart. I frowned, a look I knew made me look all sad and pathetic. But I knew it would always work on Jason.

“Don’t give me that look.” He said after a moment, I let out a indugnet sound while flicking my eyes away. Jason let out a little sigh before he started to talk again, “Rest your leg, I’ll take you home later?”

I looked up at him as he started to turn on his heal to walk away, I blinked a few times before I hoped my mouth to speak but the words died in my throat. It had been so long since we saw each other, god knows has driven Jason to that point. Nothing good. I watched him leave the little room I was in.

I sighed while sitting in the quiet for a few moments, the dog whined a little to get my attention. Looking down at the scruffy dog, I smiled weakly. “Yeah. He’s always been like that.”

I laid back on the cot. God my body fucking hurt.

#jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #arkham knight #arkham knight jason todd #arkham knight jason todd x reader #dc fic #fic: swing first

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jnnul · 2 years ago

Text

five questions

a/n: and here is the first of the wips! i know this was supposed to come out on friday and now it's almost wednesday but it's out and that's worth something, right? i hope you love this little fluff piece + mark as much as i do!

word count: 5.1k

tags: finance bro mark and y/n, slice of life, mostly fluff, kinda your typical suburban modern day couple, idk they’re just good ppl who experience a slow and sweet romance, oh! and mark sucks at beer pong

sorry, is this seat taken?

you pride yourself on not being a very superficial person. you always look deeper into a person of interest and in the past, your friends have made fun of you because you never seemed to find the people they thought were attractive very hot at all.

he seems like he swears at his mom. they give off the impression that they are rude to waitstaff. i don’t care how hot she is, she’s literally fighting with a customer service worker for no reason.

did it mean that your ability to look past superficial identity led to you giving some pretty sketchy people second chances? maybe. but usually, it did more good than harm.

but for all of your in depth thinking, you realize that you’re just as superficial as every last one of your friends when the man of your dreams asks you to marry him.

what he really says is, “is this seat taken?” but it all sounds the same when you’re half in love.

with dark eyes that are bright and shine with innocent curiosity, slender lips with a slight pout, and tousled black hair that falls into his eyes, you realize this man looks like nothing short of an angel.

you stutter out a squeaky, "no, go ahead!" before moving your laptop a little closer to you so that the hot stranger could have space to put his things down. he offers you a sweet smile before sliding into the seat next to you.

"my name is mark, by the way," he says once he's settled into his seat. he's about to ask your name but he nods to the keychain that's attached to your lanyard. "i'm guessing your name is y/n? that's a cute keychain."

"yeah," you say, flipping the keychain so that mark could see it properly. "one of the kids i teach made me it a couple years ago and i've carried it around ever since."

mark's eyebrows furrow at that as he checks his calendar to make sure that he's in the right class. "you're an education major? what's an education major doing in a business statistics class? this class is an upper level business class i thought?"

you nod and close your laptop so that mark could see the sticker on the backside of your laptop. you point out the biggest one that has 'ucla - anderson school of management' written in bright yellow letters. mark's eyebrows knit as he reads it and you can't help but laugh softly at how utterly confused he looks.

"i'm a finance major. i just really like kids so i spent last summer juggling between an internship at apple and volunteering at a learning summer camp for kids who are underprivileged in education," you explain, watching as mark's confusion turns to awe, his dark eyes glinting as you explain.

"damn. that's so cool of you, y/n. i'm sorry i assumed you were an education major. turns out you're just an angel instead," mark says, almost offhandedly. you freeze at the last sentence and immediately, mark's ears turn bright red as he realizes what he had said.

you to turn to face forward as mark rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and if you weren't so damn flustered, you would take a picture of how incredibly cute he looks.

mark had pretty privilege, as far as you were concerned. if any other person said that, you would probably just laugh it off and thank them but a single comment from mark had you blushing and internally combusting. the worst part? you didn't even mind it.

the two of you are silent for another couple minutes before you turn to him once more, a corner of your lips tilted upwards, a teasing look in your eyes.

"you know i definitely don't mind being called angel by a pretty boy," you say casually. you try not to let your voice give away how nervous mark actually makes you but there's still a little shake when you say the word 'pretty'. because really, mark was so pretty. just...too pretty to be good for your heart.

it doesn't really matter though because mark looks at you like you've personally put the stars in the sky.

"you think i'm pretty?" mark says, his voice soft and tentative. you look at him strangely. surely he had heard that many times over the course of his life? why did he sound so surprised?

"i think you're very pretty, mark," you say matter-of-factly. mark wants to say something else but everyone has filed in and it seems as though the professor is starting the lecture soon as the lights begin to dim in the hall.

mark has heard that he was attractive many times before. in fact, he'd probably become synonymous with the word handsome, as his superlative in high school was 'most likely to become a famous singer' and 'most likely to win prom king'.

so why did his heart flutter so much when you called him pretty?

can you help me with this one?

turns out, mark is shit at statistics. he's great at the business part, as you have learned over the past three weeks of sitting next to each other and working on the practice problems together. but the actual statistics? you might as well be working with a victorian child.

"i still don't understand why you can't just assume that this condition applies in all scenarios," mark says as he reads through the question once more. the two of you had grown pretty close over the past month or so, and often, you would go to the library after class to work on the assigned homework or projects together.

mark was a good study buddy (he always brought good snacks) and he had a great work ethic that made you feel guilty about not studying when he was. not to mention that he was gorgeous eye candy to look at whenever you needed to take a break from your work.

which was pretty much all the time if it meant looking at mark lee a little while longer.

your friends had teased you when you described your encounters with mark thus far. although they never really crossed the line between platonic and romantic relationships, just the fact that you were practically dying of anticipation was enough to rile your friends up.

you had had a few partners in the past but most of them ended at the situationship stage - very few of them become actual relationships. so, you had put a pause on dating for good (much to the dismay of your gossip mongering best friends) and had been happily single for the past year or so. unfortunately, that was when you met mark lee and your heart decided to rebel against all sense of logic.

besides his pretty face (your friends were very surprised to hear that you had developed a crush on a good looking man for once; you had a seriously incriminating track record), mark lee had a pretty heart. he was so incredibly humble and kind to everyone he knew - which was a lot of people, as you came to learn. he was super friendly and great at remembering little details about people that made them feel as though he truly cared about them.

which he really did. it seemed like mark truly cared a lot about every single one of his seemingly thousands of friends and went out of his way to make them feel loved. for you, however, it seemed like he went above and beyond.

it seemed as though after mark (and you, really) had gotten over the initial shyness and awkwardness, the two of you were rarely seen apart. you weren't sure if the two of you were toeing the line of romantic relationship yet, but it just felt like you guys were having fun. even without a label or anything, you and mark tended to gravitate towards each other in social situations and even made consistent efforts to see each other outside of your respective friend groups.

for example, you really didn't belong in the frat scene. you had expended all of the energy and patience you had for frat house parties during your freshman year and quite frankly, as a junior in college, it felt kind of embarrassing to go to them without having any real connections to brothers themselves.

but mark was a brother in nu chi theta so within the first month of your friendship, you found yourself at the NCT house with a red solo cup and an uncomfortable top on.

"hey y/n! i'm losing over here! can you help me with this one?" mark calls out from behind you. you turn around to see him extending a ping-pong ball (that smelled like it was coated in beer, vodka, and...laundry detergent?) in your direction. you look to see if your friends, who you had dragged along to the party, were going to save you from death by beer pong but you're on your own when you see two of your friends making out with the same boy.

you would stop them but the image was far too gruesome and downright hilarious. and in their drunken state, you doubted you could really separate the lovebirds (?) anyway.

"alright, but it's gonna cost you, lee," you sigh dramatically, setting your cup down on the counter before accepting the ping-pong ball, your fingers brushing over mark's.

"name your price," mark says confidently as you line up your shot, ignoring the heat that radiates off of mark's body as you realize that mark was a lot closer than you had previously anticipated. his words sink into your skin and you involuntarily shiver when you feel his breath on your neck.

"hmm...i'll have to think about it..." you trail off, finally throwing the little ping-pong ball into the cup. you turn so that your chest was pressed against mark's front and all your thoughts have been replaced by the look of his eyes in the dim lighting. the words tumble out of your mouth before you even realize what you're saying.

"go on a date with me?"

your heart drops as you see mark's face turn from confusion to shock and then back to confusion. he rubs his neck awkwardly (a habit, you had noticed, that tended to present himself when he felt particularly confused) as he licks his lips nervously.

"was...was us hanging out everyday not...dating? i kinda thought we were already going on dates," mark mumbles, his cheeks flushed. you stare at him and a strange gurgling laughter rips out of your mouth before you clamp your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide in horror at the sound that came out of your mouth.

"does this mean you like me?" you ask, and once again, you're graced with the sight of mark lee looking just all too angelic under the strobe lighting as he nods before tentatively making eye contact with you.

"uh...if you asked me on a date, am i safe to assume that you like me too?" mark proposes and the way that he says it, almost like he was presenting a business pitch to a potential investor, makes you laugh once more as you lean a little closer to mark, your lips barely brushing against his.

"more than you realize, mark."

can i come inside?

the first time mark came with you to help out with the kids at the school, it was completely unexpected. another one of the student teachers had suddenly fallen ill (you found out a few months later that at his girlfriend's baby shower that he was not, in fact, sick) and no one else was available to help out.

your supervisor was a sweet old lady who was dedicated to helping as much as she could before 'her joints gave up on her' - which meant that oftentimes, she tried to take on more responsibility than she really could. and then that meant that she often didn't hire enough staff to keep the place running, hoping that she could do all of the administrative things herself so that all of the people who did come in could focus on working with the kids. needless to say, as one of the only volunteers who had been with the organization for more than four years, you knew more than well that the sweet old lady needed more people to help her out.

so, you forced your boyfriend of three years to help you out. well, not really forced. mark had the day off from work because it was the day before july 4th and really didn't have any plans for the day. so when mrs. varghese calls you frantically at nine o'clock the previous night, mark offered to come with you.

"we've been together for the past three years and we've been living together for the past one and a half. i lose my girlfriend every monday and thursday evening to kids. i gotta meet the little suckers who've been monopolizing my girlfriend." which was mark's stupid way of saying i love you. let me help you out a little bit. let me be part of your world. maybe in the disney princess way.

and you're a sucker for kids and your boyfriend, even after dating for three years, so you agree and the next day, you're piling into the passenger seat at seven in the morning to teach young children addition and subtraction.

not really how the two of you (mostly mark) were planning on spending on of your rare days off but you could never deny mrs. varghese of anything. especially if it meant more time with the kids.

mark always joked about how you should've become a teacher but as much as you loved the children and the interactions with them, you were not a fan of the underpaying salaries. so you made it a point to become successful in your career and dedicate a percentage of your paycheck to donate to the school you volunteered at instead.

which had caused some struggles when you first moved in with mark, given that it was only the two of you rather than you living with three of your friends and your share of the rent went higher. but you figured it out and mark definitely wasn't the type of person to hold it over your head that you weren't able to pay your full share of rent for the first two months.

because that's just who he was. he would cover for you, covering up all of the little parts of yourself that you didn't like. and you would help him see that those blemishes he thought he had were just things that made him more lovable to you.

so when mark steps into the little school and immediately, kids are swarming to the two of you, trying to find out who the attractive boyfriend was, you're not even surprised. mark had a natural, comforting air about him (not to mention the fact that the kids were overly invested in your personal life) that made people want to draw to him like moths to a flame.

in fact, he's so overwhelmed by the love that the kids are showing him, he's still hovering around the door awkwardly, semi-bowing to mrs. varghese, who's watching him with amusement.

"can i come inside?" mark asks, trying to take a step forward while not hurting any little kids. you snort at his awkward shuffle before clapping your hands together, taking it upon yourself to relieve your poor boyfriend from the possibility of death by enthusiastic children.

"can you or may you?" mrs. varghese says with a humorous smile and mark's eyebrows furrow as he contemplates the question. the kids are slowly making their way over to you, where you're starting to distribute fruit pouches as a morning snack and mark finally feels as though he's only carrying his own body weight - as opposed to ten other children's.

"it was 'can i' at first but now i think it's more of a 'may i'. mrs. varghese, i presume?" mark says, extending his hand for the old lady to shake. she just looks at it strangely before gathering mark in a tight, bone-crushing hug.

for such a frail old lady, she had a lot of strength.

"get out of here with those manners. y/n's told me a lot about. and anyone in y/n's corner is family here, alright?" mrs. varghese says, and mark has to blink furiously to push back the tears, although he can't really tell why her words are hitting him so hard.

"thanks."

you mean that?

mark was really easy to love. that's just the type of person he was. in everyone else's eyes, he was a good guy who just always tried to be better at the things he was already incredibly good at. he was always polite with strangers, babies cooed at him, and was the type to be the person to start a 'pay-it-forward' queue whenever he could afford to do so.

and for all of his perfectness, mark was a very flawed man. he was a little bit of a miser - he hated to spend money on himself, even if he would splurge a little more on you. he was a little bit on the insecure side, and no matter how many times you told him that you loved him all the more for his quirks, he still got down about it. mark was also really bad at communication when things made him upset. he was just so easy-going that he would let the smaller things accumulate and build until he's practically bursting.

and mark was kinda mean when he got angry.

he would never hurt you, of course. mark didn't think he could ever live with himself if he knew that he had laid a hand on anyone - but you in particular. and he really, really was trying to work on his communication skills so that he wouldn't let it build and then get so angry.

but when mark got angry, he seemed to just turn into a different person. it had only happened once in your relationship before, almost right after you had moved in together

it was about something incredibly stupid but the tension had been building for a while prior to that. technically, before you moved in, the apartment had been mark and one of his friend's, johnny seo from school, before johnny had moved out to move in with his own girlfriend. and mark and johnny weren't exactly...the cleanest people. you didn't really mind the mess but soon it turned into an unhealthy balance of mark leaving things around the house and you having to clean up after him.

not to mention that a lot changes when a couple moves in together. naturally, tensions were running a little high. for all your cleanliness, you had a really bad habit of leaving unfinished meals in the fridge until they went bad and started to smell, which made mark upset because that was a waste of a valuable meal. and so on and so forth.

one day, the tensions just burst and the two of you ended up in a screaming match going back and forth and back and forth about cleanliness and not eating properly and soon, it escalated from a conversation about living together to being together in the first place.

mark regretted it almost immediately, cursing himself out when he saw you just completely shut down in front of his eyes. he knew his anger got the best of him sometimes, and when he was in the moment, all he could think about was winning the argument, no matter what he needed to say to win.

that had been the worst fight you've ever had. after that fight, you got a lot better about portioning your food to eliminate leftovers and mark made a more conscious effort to clean up. you also started talking more to each other about what things did or didn't make you happy.

but even as mark was getting better at communicating with you, he still didn't know how to raise up issues with you. usually, you would tell mark what you were up to and then you would naturally ask him yourself if he was comfortable with what you were doing. he would then reply with a simple yes or no with an explanation and that would be the end of that. he always hesitated to raise up an issue with you though. he didn't want you to think that he was trying to control your life or be one of those possessive boyfriends.

one day, though, you were out clubbing with your friends (your friend had recently broken up with her fiancé and she really needed her girlfriends) and you had come home pretty late. mark had stayed up, watching a movie (barely), worried about you making it home safely because he knew that your friends were prone to trying to get you as wasted as possible.

mark never told you explicitly but you had a feeling that's how he felt. it frustrated you though that he never said anything to you and wait for you to bring it up to him instead. so that night, you decided to drink a little more than usual (but not as much as they tried to make you drink) so that you could finally, finally get mark to talk to you about his issues.

really, for your behavior, you were expecting to have a round two of what had happened when you first moved in with him. you were imagining a screaming match like no other but instead, mark just looks at you, sighs, and pulls you into a hug when you come stumbling through the door. confused, you begin to pull away, but mark just continues to hold you tight.

"i was so worried that you might not get home safe. and i promise we'll have a proper conversation about this when you're sober in the morning but i love you so much and...let's just talk about this in the morning, okay?" mark mumbles into your hair. you let mark just rock you gently side to side as he clings onto you, completely opposite from the reaction you were expecting.

"mark, i'm not drunk. i just...i'm tired of always being the one to bring up issues. i know that you don't like it when i get drunk outside because you're worried for me but i'd rather you tell me that than me having to guess that by myself. i can make my own decisions and i'm a big independent girl but you're the singular most important person in my life. i would never consciously do something to make you uncomfortable but i make mistakes sometimes. i need you to be open and honest with me when something makes you uncomfortable - because i know it takes a lot to get that far in the first place."

mark steps back to look you in the eyes, his eyes glittering in the shitty lighting of the apartment. "you really mean that?"

"i mean it with my whole heart."

do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?

mark tries not to trip. he tries really hard to hold in his sneezes, tears, and any other bodily fluids that are inappropriate for the situation. but the nearly fifteen feet from the entrance to the where the officiant is standing is enough to make mark want to puke all over the very expensive carpet you bought for the wedding.

when you first proposed having a backyard wedding, mark was extremely opposed.

a wedding was a once in a lifetime day where you could celebrate your union together with your partner and start the journey to the rest of your lives together. in fact, it was mark, not you, who had the pinterest board (although, to be fair, it wasn't actually a pinterest board and was rather just a folder on his phone of screenshots from pretty tiktoks). he had a vision for the wedding - one that included all members of your friend circle, your families, and your family friends as well.

and well, that wasn't really in the budget. rather than spend 100k on a one day event, you proposed having a backyard wedding that would be significantly more economical and using that 100k to buy a starter home.

"you still get your expensive venue and we have a place to move into. a real home that we can start a family in, mark," you had argued as mark paced back and forth in the small, almost cramped apartment the two of you shared. mark stops when he realizes that it only takes fourteen steps to make it from one side of the room to the other side and back.

and that was the biggest room.

so mark agrees on one condition: there are no lacking traditional elements of the wedding. the both of you worked together on the pain-staking process of planning a wedding that included portions of your culture and his culture to put on the wedding of a lifetime. hopefully the only wedding of your lifetimes.

well, the only wedding for you and mark, at least. but that was about the future and in the present, mark can barely keep from keeling over right there at the beautifully decorated altar that you and your mother had spent hours on.

after so long of being together, mark can't help but feel just so incredibly lucky and overwhelmed to be finally marrying you. you. the person of his dreams. the person who taught him that love isn't always fireworks and euphoric thrills; that love can be huddling together when gas bills were too high to pay and wanting nothing more than to see your significant other when it's been a long day.

love was you and mark really, really can't wait to finally show the world how much he truly loved you.

unsurprisingly, mark almost cries when you finally enter, the picture of the stunning bride as you clutch your father's arm for the last time as y/n l/n instead of y/n lee. mark isn't sure the last time he saw you this nervous but when you meet his eyes, he can feel the rest of the world melt away.

just normal people with enough love to fill the world, is what you say in your vows. just a guy and a girl in the same business class who never travel business class because the two of you are such money minders - something that my soon to be husband has rubbed off on me.

"i will never forget the moment that i knew i was so irrevocably love with mark. it was two days after we fought for the first time. i remember that i was so incredibly angry and scared that that fight would be the end of y/n and mark. that i would have to move out and redownload tinder and just be miserable again for losing one of the best things in my life over a little sock in the wrong place and leftover pizza."

"but two days after we fought, mark came up to me, hugged me and just said, 'we're gonna get through this. i love you too much to not get through this.' and even though everything just seemed so uncertain, the moment mark said that, i knew instantly that we really were going to get through it. because mark had faith in us. and i have faith in us. i love you, mark lee. from the moment you sat down in that ucla business class. i have loved you for so long and i will continue to love you forever."

there isn't a single dry eye in the house (quite literally) after your vow. mark has to clear his throat four or five times before he can start his vows, too afraid that his voice would give out on him in the middle due to how much emotion he was feeling.

"y/n, you asked me one day when we were binging american horror story and pigging out with a family sized bag of chips when i started falling in love with you. and i couldn't answer then so i just said that for as long as i can remember. and that's true - i still don't know when i fell in love with you. i just remember that one day i woke up alone in bed (don't worry mr. l/n, i have never slept in a ten mile radius of your daughter...please don't make her divorce me) and thinking that i would rather wake up next to you instead for the rest of my life."

"but i do know when i realized you were my soulmate. five moments when i knew i found the one. when i asked you if i could sit down next to you in business class. when i asked you to help me with statistics because for being a business major, i'm horrible at math - go figure. when i volunteered with you for the first time with mrs. varghese. mrs. varghese! - where are you - mrs. varghese! may i marry y/n? then i'll be real family."

mrs. varghese blows into a handkerchief unceremoniously, waving mark off through her tears, making the crowd and you laugh a little. mark's smile grows when he sees you laugh and continues on nervously.

"and the fourth moment was the time when you gave me a reality check. when you reminded me that love doesn't work without communication. you've changed me so much for the better, y/n, and i truly could not thank you enough for it. so, i have one last question for you. one last moment for me to know that we're soulmates."

mark takes a deep breath, holding one of your hands in both of his as he looks at you with soft eyes, so filled with love that your breath catches in your throat. "i promise to love you and stand by you for as long as i breathe. can you - can you promise...do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?"

it seems as though everyone in the venue is holding their breath before you press a sweet kiss to mark's cheek and say the words that everyone has been waiting for.

"i do."

and with those five questions, mark lee had found his soulmate.

#jnnul #nct dream fic #nct 127 fic #nct fluff #mark lee #nct headcanons #nct dream fluff #nct dream #nct #mark lee fic #mark fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 headcanons #nct dream headcanons #mark headcanons

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wyniepooh · 2 years ago

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Hate

hotch seems to have something against you. when you’ve had enough and confront him, the answer could not be farther than what you imagined.

bau!reader who is new to the team, obvi based off that one ep (I don’t remember which…) where Penelope comes with them to to investigate a case w the ONE ROOM TROPE. I-could-never-hate-you trope, suppressed feelings and EXTREME tension trope, sexy old stern serious man loses control trope. mdni; 18+

you knew you were all completely screwed the second you stepped into the motel.

you should’ve known something was off when you found out that the place was called "majestic motels”, and had a solid two star rating on the internet. you suppose since the bau spent so much of its resources on the private jet and other edible accommodations, this was probably the best that they could do under these rushed circumstances.

it honestly probably would’ve turned out fine in the end— an old, sketchy, motel couldn’t even compare with what the team had gone through. that is, until the team was informed that there was a slight issue that had been overlooked.

“ma’am, i am positive we booked four rooms total. what do you mean it says we’ve booked three?” morgan’s exasperated voice rung throughout the room.

“i- sir, i am so sorry. there must’ve been a mistake on our website, or- or it's because we’ve had a lot of new, untrained hires lately. but it does say here that you only have three double rooms booked, and, um…” the poor receptionist’s lower lip quivered as she said, “…we’re completely full.”

rossi stepped forward and began to speak, no doubt about to terrorize the basically shivering lady about responsibility and authority. thankfully, hotch blocked rossi off with his body and spoke for him, in a more gentle way.

“thank you. we’ll take the three double rooms as is.”

you could practically see the sweat beads on her forehead retreat back into her skin as she typed frantically. a minute later, you all had bronze keys in hand and as the team walked to the lobby with heavy bags and heavy minds, everyone but hotch sat down on the worn, brown couches.

“so, i’m just going to say what everyone is thinking. i deserve my own room,” voiced rossi. you all looked at each other with disbelief, laughing when rossi shrugged his shoulders as if he had not just said the most ridiculous thing he could’ve ever said.

morgan chuckled as he playfully smacked rossi’s shoulder. “i can assure you, man, no one was thinking that.”

hotch crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed, and exhaled thoughtfully. “i think the most reasonable arrangement is if emily, garcia, and jj stayed in one room, and morgan, reid, and rossi stayed in the other.” groans of complaints filled everyone's ears, and it took you a minute to register what he had just said.

you crinkled your eyebrows at the absence of your name, but before you could ask, hotch spoke once again,

“and we’ll take the third room.”

he glanced over at you very briefly, almost as if he wanted to see your reaction. but you shook your suspicions off; he had no reason to be curious as to how you’d feel about sharing a room with him. it was a bit odd, yes, but you were honestly too desperate for sleep to do your usual overthinking. you simply nodded softly in agreement towards him, and rolled your eyes when you saw the faces of the trio of ladies.

“alright, let’s get settled in. we start early tomorrow.”

and with hotch’s words in mind, everyone began walking down the hallways leading to their rooms. entering hallway B, you remained at least five steps behind him. you figured you could never be too cautious with aaron hotchner.

you had bonded with every other member of the team, but hotch seemed to have a solid brick wall built around him. he was always dismissing your ideas and attempts to help, and you were never his first choice when he needed a hand. you had a small suspicion that the sole purpose of this room arrangement was so that he could supervise you; to check out your intentions and morals.

you suppose you could understand why. the team is very tight-knit and you were thrown into the bunch quite abruptly, so you stayed silent to the obvious bias and unfairness. as he turned the key and opened the door, being the gentleman he is, hotch held the door opened for you and waited till you were inside to close and lock the door. as you had expected, the room didn’t exactly look like it was going to be a luxurious experience. but from the long flight and the whole ordeal with the missing room, all you could think about was taking a warm shower and getting into bed, even if the sheets smelled like they hadn’t been washed since the 70s.

you set your suitcase down on the bed furthest away from the balcony, unzipping the various compartments containing clothing and mini shampoo. you sighed in relief when you felt the soft fabric of your pyjamas.

"do you mind if i hop in the shower first? the coffee morgan split on me earlier on the jet is making my whole body sticky," you asked.

there was a brief pause before he answered. a regular person wouldn't have picked up on it. they wouldn't have noticed the slight intake of breath, the small hesitation in his voice. the light shake of his head and the way he clutched his suitcase handle tighter.

but you had gone to school for years, gotten many diplomas and degrees that specifically allowed you to notice the milliseconds between your question, and when he replied.

"go ahead."

he didn't even look up as the words left his mouth, focusing instead on pulling the files out of his briefcase and setting them down on the wooden desk resting in the corner. so, this trip wasn't going to make you two any closer, it seemed. you tried to tell yourself you didn't care as you pressed your lips together and gave a small, awkward nod. grabbing your undergarments and pyjamas, along with your towel, you couldn't be more ready to finally wash the day off of you.

the hot water and the steam instantly put you in a good mood, even when you stepped out of the washroom in a thin t-shirt and shorts to a freezing room. you weren’t sure if it was from the blasting air conditioning… or from the man who was adamant on not acknowledging you. hotch was sitting at the wooden desk situated in the corner, folders open, pen out, notebook beginning to fill. he practically glowed with iciness.

you were shocked to see that it was already dark outside, so you stepped over to the balcony and started to close the curtains. the rusty pole made an unpleasant screeching noise, and you cringed at the way his shoulders seem to tense at your actions. halfway through pulling the heavy fabric, hotch sucked in a breath and looked sharply towards you.

“do you have to do that right now?”

your lips formed an ‘o’, head shaking as you silently tip toed behind the chair he was sitting in. your eyes scanned hotch’s form; hair disheveled, blazer sitting on the chair behind him and his tie loose around his neck. though you already knew the answer to the question you wanted to ask, you knew you still had to try.

“can i help? i read a little about the case on the jet. the unsub is definitely showing traits of being an insecure white male with a white collar job, likely a-“

“it’s alright. i don’t need your help.”

you laughed nervously out of perplexity. “w-well, you’ve got a huge pile of folders there. i’ll just take a few, write the notes as you would, so that way tomorrow we can pretend we know what-“

“i said no.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, a scoff making its way out your mouth. you saw the movement of his pen stop, and for a moment, you were scared that you had disrespected him. but the moment was brief, very brief, because the the elastic that had been stretching for months had finally had enough, and was beginning to snap.

"what is your issue?"

all of his actions stopped completely, his large hand clicking off the pen and closing the folder slowly. he turned the chair to face you.

"excuse me?"

you crossed your arms, raising your chin up as you stepped closer to where he sat. "you heard me, hotch. why do you hate me?"

he sighed, hands sitting on the armrests and eyes looking down as he shook his head. "I don't hate you."

"sure, maybe hate is too strong a word. but you definitely dislike me. I know I'm new to the team, I've disrupted the team's flow and dynamic. but I'm trying my best here. no matter what I do, what ideas I suggest or what profiles I give, you reject it. throw it away like trash. but this is my job, and whether you like it or not, I'm going to stay here. so I suggest you--"

"--I don't hat-"

"--suck it up and learn how to--"

"I don't hate you, damn it."

your words stopped spilling as he stood up, the chair scooting back weakly by the momentum. his loud statement was still echoing off of the walls of the small room when you began to utter.

"o-okay, you don't hate me. what is it then?"

instead of answering, he began walking towards you, hands by his side as his eyes followed yours. you took a few steps back, but stopped, when you saw the look on his face. there was trouble in his eyes, something dark. his brows cinched together but not with anger— it was desperation. he was making a plea with his eyes, his body, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to help him.

your anger had long dissolved into confusion, and you extended a hand to touch his arm. “hotch..?”

you gasped when you felt the warmth of his hand on your wrist, which gently pried your grasp off from his arm. you expected him to let go, to tell you not to touch him and storm out, but the moment never came. he didn't dropped your hand from his. it was only now did you notice the close proximity between you and him. you could feel his breaths, see his glistening face and if you moved just an inch, your would be in his arms.

“I could never hate you.”

your mouth opened out of a mixture of shock and disbelief, and you struggled to find what to say. but you didn't need to say anything, and you didn't want to. his eyes drifted from the top of your head to your eyes, your ears, your nose, your parted lips. for a minute, you were close enough to hear his breaths slow and sync up with your own, but you could back away if you really wanted to. in the next, you could barely breathe from the impact and the way he squeezed you against him.

quite suddenly, his lips were on yours. his left hand supported your head as you harshly made contact with the wall, and his right hand— which still firmly held your hand— forced your arm up as your bodies pressed against each other.

with your free hand, you grabbed the front of his shirt and tried to pull him closer to you, as if it were even possible. his left hand came down from your head and grabbed your hand that was clutching his blouse, constricting it together with your other hand against the wall. you tried to move your arms, but hotch was unflinching and rough. it was as if he was afraid you were going to run away, afraid that your lips would leave his.

when he found the strength to disconnect his lips from yours, both your mouths were red and swollen, and your chests synced up with heavy pants.

“in case you couldn’t already tell…” he breathed as he let go of your sore limbs, backing away and running a hand through his messy hair. “…I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

he turned around, standing at the foot of his bed with his hands on his hips and his back facing you. after a beat, he spoke again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. it is com-“

he was interrupted when you grabbed his arm and spun him around, using his tie to pull him to you as you pressed your lips sloppily on his once more. you backed him onto the bed, and dug your fingers into the flesh of his back. he didn’t reciprocate your actions at first, but once you slipped a moan in his mouth, his hand immediately came up to caress your cheek, and the other wrapped around your waist.

"jump.”

his hand gripped the nape of your head as you hopped onto his lap, and a low groan came escaped him from the friction between your pelvises. he continued pushing his mouth on yours as your right hand tugged his hair, your left hand fumbling frantically with the buckle of his belt.

“in case you couldn’t already tell…” you whispered against his lips with a smile, “…I don’t hate you either.”

a/n: something about an usually organized and stern man losing control… this is for all of u nasties out there (it's ok me too)

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dullgecko · 5 days ago

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Thanks Tumblr for eating that ask, not like i wanted to DO something with it -_-..... I read the ask, I liked the ask, i go to actually write something for it and it's dissapeared into the ether.

For the person who sent the ask about Fabian being a dork and trying to manufacture a 'there was only 1 bed' scenario with Riz.

---------------

It wasn't often that Riz's solo cases dragged him out this far but sometimes you just had to follow the lead wherever it took you. Even if where it took you was nearly twelve hours drive away on the back of a grumpy hellhound bike. Not quite in the Red Wastes, well past The Baronies, just far enough into the middle of nowhere that they were lucky to have even FOUND an inn for the night.

Sure, Riz liked to boast that he 'didn't sleep' but even he had his limits. The fact that they'd found the artefact they'd been looking for (stolen from his client, then sold to a pawn shop, then tracked through a good two dozen buyers until Riz found it for sale in a tiny, sketchy store full of OTHER stolen items and had stolen it back) meant that yeah, his job was done and now he could get some sleep. This was how Riz found himself trying desperatly not to fall asleep on his feet while Fabian negotiated for a room. Sure there wasn't much on offer, that was to be expected for an inn that was literally the only place around for MILES with soft beds and warm food, plenty of other adventurers had stopped here on their way down to the Red Wastes to help deal with a giant spider infestation and they were lucky there even WAS a room leftover for them to use. He wasn't really paying attention as Fabian spoke in hushed tones to the innkeeper, jumping slightly when his friend tapped him on the shoulder and jiggled the key to their room in front of his face. "Wakey wakey The Ball, at least wait until we get upstairs to fall asleep." The half elf chuckled, stooping slightly to steer Riz towards the stairs and up to their room with a gentle hand in the middle of his back.

Riz was actually looking forwards to a good long sleep, especially on a tall man sized bed. Plenty of room to sprawl out and get comfy, with probably more than enough pillows and blanket to spare. Needless to say that, when Fabian opened the door and ushered him inside and there was just a single double bed pushed against the far wall, he was a little disapointed.

"Sorry The Ball, this was the last room they had availible."

"No this is... fine." Riz pinched the bridge of his nose, weighing up his options as he poked around the room. There were spare blankets in the wardrobe against the wall and, well, plenty of space INSIDE said wardrobe. "You can take the bed Fabes, I'll just... make a nest in the cupboard or something."

Fabian sputtered, making little noises of protest even as Riz half-climbed the furniture to yank the spare blanket down off the shelf and set about arranging it comfortably on the floor of the wardrobe. His weapons and breifcase getting tucked inside as well as he stripped down to his comfortable undershirt and boxers as he prepared to go straight to sleep.

"No, don't. Come on there's PLENTY of room on the bed." Fabian blustered, hands hovering over the goblin as he fought the urge to pick him up and just plop him down on the matress himself. "There's no reason for you to sleep in the damn wardrobe and mess up your back, we can just share."

Riz might have been half a blink away from falling asleep but he wasn't stupid. He tipped his head back to squint critically at the half elfs face, noteing the slight blush at the tips of his ears, the way he couldn't maintain eye contact... the fact that it for SURE didn't sound like every single room in the inn was occupied right now. Right, there was only ONE room with ONE bed left in the whole place. He couldn't just say he wanted to cuddle?

The rogue just rolled his eyes, gathering up the blanket and his gear (there was NO way he would sleep without his sword and arcubus within arms reach) and heaving the whole lot up onto the bed. Nest getting hastily remade in the corner up against the wall.

Fabian, for his part, bit back a frustrated sigh as Riz shoved half the pillows into his little pile in the corner of the bed. 'Accidentally' snuggling in the middle of the night was a lot harder when you had to breach the walls and wiggle halfway into a nest of blankets to do so. So, defeated, he carefully got under the covers on the outer side of the bed. The lump mostly hidden under blankets and pillows getting a fond 'pat pat' as he settled down to sleep, sadly without his crush tucked against his front so they could both fit comfortably on the bed.

Riz let him sulk for a good fifteen minutes before taking pity, arm lifting the corner of his blanket to blink out at the pouting half-elf who was trying his best to pretend to be asleep.

"No? You're not going to give up the ruse and just ask to cuddle?" He whispered, amusement tinging his voice as he reached out to tuck a dreadlock behind Fabians ear. The half elf failing in his efforts to pretend to sleep when he quirked a smile. "That obvious?"

"Even exhausted my perception is high, and you weren't being subtle." Riz snickered, shuffling about until he he was under both Fabians blanket and his little nesting pile at the same time. The goblin quickly getting grabbed as Fabian skootched over so he was also half under the haphazard pile of bedding, only now with a captive rogue tucked against his front.

#fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #oh no only one bed

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inotcat04 · 10 days ago

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Hello,I have decided that you guys like when I do theses story things.I am trying to find the style that all of you like so here is another story for all of you.This is also a relativity au so enjoy.(pls leave a comment if you liked it and if you didn’t tell me what you didn’t like about it so I can improve)So enjoy!

How I imagine the scene of dipper coming out of the portal would be like.

Dipper comes out of the portal slowly and cautiously scanning the area around him in case some kind of monster suddenly jumps out of nowhere and attacks him like in most dimensions.Mabel and ford were dumbfounded when dipper came out of the portal looking back and forward between him and the portal.Stan quickly ran back to Mabel when he was dropped on the floor of the basement.It was so quiet that the birds from outside the mystery shack could be heard until.”Dipper!”Mabel shouted and start running towards dipper planning to give him an earth shattering hug as silent tears streamed down her face.Dipper,shock by the sudden shout and movement,quickly pulled out his gun and aimed it at Mabel thinking she was a predator but before he could shoot Mabel pulled dipper in a bone breaking hug as she sobbed uncontrollably.Dipper felted a surge of angry,sadness and happiness when Mabel touched him,he wanted to bring up the fact that reopening the portal was incredibly not responsible to Mabel but decided that wasn’t important now.He slowly put his arms around Mabel and gave the gesture back,he felt tears prick at his eyes but decided to hold them back.He didn’t want to be seen as weak to the people who were still staring at him and Mabel with a confused expression plastered on their faces.”Dipper!I have missed you so much!”Mabel exclaimed still hugging him tightly,she didn’t want to let go for a long time but decided to since she could feel dipper’s heart beat go very fast.Mabel let go to compose herself and dipper spoke while rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly trying to say what he had been wanting to say when he heard Mabel shout for him.”It’s mason now,dipper left when YOU PUSHED ME INTO THE PORTAL!”Dipper well now mason shouted at Mabel while his face turned as red as a tomato furiously at Mabel still.Mabel felt more tears coming behind her eyes but held them in and muttered”mason…”.She didn’t even hear the other part that mason had said.”Yes.”mason said while he crossed his arms but realised he probably shouldn’t have said that when Mabel collapsed on to the floor and started weeping.Even though she had pushed him into the portal 30 years ago,he couldn’t look at Mabel looking so sad like that.This was the second time he had watched Mabel break down like that,the first time being her hearing their parents screaming about getting divorce and maybe one parent taking one twin.Mabel woke up dipper and weeped into his arms to the morning.Mason quickly went to her side and hugged her into a awkward side hug as she weeped while looking helplessly at the three others in the room helplessly until Stan came over and also started comforting Mabel and soon enough ford came in too and everyone was trying to but kinda failing at comforting her.They all huddled together bonded together by blood and their love for Mabel.

Ford didn’t really know how to feel about all of this,it all seemed too sketchy having some random old person come out of some portal and grauntie may crying.Grauntie may always cried,but he had never seen her cry like that before.But his train of thought stop when Stan ran over to grauntie may side and comforting her with the other person.This gave ford the courage to also go to grauntie may side and also comfort her.Stan and Ford had no idea why she was like this but they both knew that they were just going to stand there and watch so they decided to go too.Anyways,the old man looked kinda stupid when he didn’t know what to do.

After awhile,Mason looked up at the two people that joined him and Mabel.It was two kids.wait KIDS!Another surge of anger went through him but he decided to confront Mabel about that later.He could see one of the kids wearing a striped shirt crying silent tears while the other in the jacket was tearing up and suddenly he felt all the suppressed he had pushed down come up and finally tears fell from his eyes too but before he got back to comforting Mabel he accidentally looked into the pocket inside of the jacket that belonged to the child wearing it and saw his journal,he suddenly said to ford.”Where did you get that journal?”.mason eyes lighting up in curiousity.”Why do you want to know,and who are you?”ford asked back looking daggers into Mason.”Ok,fair point I have not introduced myself.I am Mason Pines and I wrote that journal that you have right now.”Mason said as a sudden wind ruffled his hair showing his birthmark on his forehead.”Ok,I am Stanford Pines and this is my brother Stanley Pines and I found your book in the woods.”Ford said but in a cautious tone still not trusting Mason.”OK!Intros later!”Stan exclaimed,”We have the government still hunting us down and we still need a solution to fix that!”.Just as Stan said that they all heard the crash sound coming from upstairs further stating Stan’s point.”if only I had my spare memory gun that I got from the alternative universe Pacifica!”Mason exclaimed as he slapped his forehead louder than expected.”Hey,quiet,or else they will hear us!”Stan hushed Mason.He quickly shut his lips and his face turned red.Mason was quite embarrassed that a child just hushed him.

They all sat in silently as they thought,the only sounds that could be heard was Mabel sniffing quietly.Suddenly ford spoke up,”did you say memory gun?”ford asked and Mason could see the gears turning in his head.”Yes but unfortunately I do not have it with me now”Mason glumly said as he coutinued to stoke Mabel’s hair to hopefully comfort her.Ford began to dig in his bag and fished out a memory gun and passed to Mason.Mason looked back to ford in disbelief as he took it.”why did a child have a memory gun with them,I will need to ask later but now he has to fix the problem.”he thought while making a mental note as he headed to the speaker and plugged the memory gun into the speaker.

After a memory gun and Mabel calmed down.All of them climbed back up to the mystery shack together as a family.For the first time in thirty years.The mystery twins were reunited.Who knows what will happen next,I guess the mystery twins future for now will also be a mystery.

Thank you for reading finish!YAY!byebye!🩷

#gravity falls #dipper pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #mabel pines #relativity falls

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hananoami · 4 months ago

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Rafayel's Directional Orbit: Fire - Stage 130 Clear + VOD

And finally, the last 130 post clear write up on my list is with Rafayel. We cleared his Directional Orbit: Fire - Stage 130 on July 24th! This one was lowkey kinda sketchy towards the end because the game decided to suddenly freeze on me.. ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

Rafayel's Stage 130 requires two teams. Team 01's Protofield Stellactrum is 5-Violet and 1-Ruby. Team 02's Protofield Stellactrum is 5-Pearl and 1-Amber.

Matching the Protofield Stellactrum will grant you additional bonuses to your team. By matching the colors completely you will have a ’perfect match’ which allows you to break 2 protofield shields in a single strike. This saves you time by quickly bringing those wanderers into a weakened state. You also get an Attribute Bonus (up to 30.0%) for every color you match - increase DMG boost 5.0% and DMG reduction 5.0%. Of course, you could opt to go off color and try to brute force it, but I didn't here.

The difference having a Duo R1 of any solar pair is wildly insane. Duo Rank 1 boosts Ardent Oath charge by 20%, allowing you to to equip a different beta protocore for something that is focused on either strength or expedited energy. I was totes excited to finally get another copy of [Deep Sea Promise] during the Pulse Hunter limited-time banner since for some un(sea)godly reason his [Deep Sea Riches] just loves to grace me with his presence instead -- I currently have that memory at R3.

For the first half of the fight I tried to keep all of the wanderers grouped up together. Thankfully, Abysswalker's Resonance Skill, Fantasia Shark, pulls in the enemies before it bites and burns them. I'm not gonna lie... my game play is kinda sloppy here too since I had to collect the Fish Tail beacon he dropped anytime I used his Eclipse Rend Support Skill. I also had to keep track of the marked wanderer in order to use my Abyssal Rapid Fire charged attack for more damage. It's totes easier to keep them grouped up in a corner that way Sharkie can reach all of them when pulled in.

One thing I do want to improve on are my perfect dodges. In this case for Rafayel's Abysswalker he would drops another fish tail beacon for an additional charge to speed up his Eclipse Rend support skill. While watching my clear vod again I noticed I had the opportunity for these perfect dodges, but didn't do them because I was afraid of getting hit. I should just go for it going forward, just to get more practice in.

My overall rotation with God of the Tides could have been better. I kept forgetting to press my active skill, Tides, for the small buff window before going into Rafayel's resonance skill, Surging Tides. The boss locked its HP at around 75% health on the final bar where you can't do any damage to it. So you would have to avoid the cyclones in order to not get frozen and lose out on some time. Also, this would be the perfect time to get a perfect dodge in, as seen in my clear video, hehe~

You can probably notice where my game decided to freeze during my fights in my clear vods... it was actually a real struggle that day and kinda stressed me out since this was all time sensitive content -- not that there was a rush to clear or anything. I just knew I was able to clear the fights, if only my game wouldn't hold me back with the lag. I ended up fixing by setting my graphics to the lowest setting.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

TEAM 01

Companion: Rafayel’s Abysswalker [ Burst | Single-target | Pull ] Weapon: Phantasma Sands (guns) [ DPS | Single-target | Sustained ] Attribute Bonus For each matched stellactrum, increases DMG Boost 5.0% (currently increased: 30.0%) and DMG Reduction 5.0% (currently increased 30.0%). ♡ Affinity Bonus: 106 (Rafayel’s Protective Skill) When you take a fatal blow, Rafayel teleports to you, blocks a hit, and counter attacks. Enemies will be knocked back. [ HP xxxx || DEF xx || ATK xxx ] Pair Bonus [AB] -- Starting Effect: increases team DMG by 8%, reduces DMG taken by 8%, and increases Crit DMG of Deepsea Persuit by 30%. -- Duo Rank 1: boost Ardent Oath charge by 20%. When fighting together with Abysswalker, increases DMG taken of enemies inflicted with Burn by 20%.

5☆ DEEP SEA RICHES (violet/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using +15 SSR protocores

5☆ DEEP SEA PROMISE (violet/solar) Lv 80/awakened using +15 SSR protocores

5☆ FLORAL PROMISE (violet/lunar) Lv 80 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ WHISPERS (violet/lunar) Lv 80 rank 1 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ YOUR FRAGRANCE (violet/lunar) Lv 80 rank 3 using xx SSR protocores

4☆ WHALEFALL LAMENT (ruby/lunar) Lv 60 rank 3 using xx SSR protocores

TEAM 02

Companion: Rafayel’s God of the Tides [ Sustained | Buff | AoE ] Weapon: Tidal Embrace (staff) [ Sustained | Buff | Aoe ] Attribute Bonus For each matched stellactrum, increases DMG Boost 5.0% (currently increased: 30.0%) and DMG Reduction 5.0% (currently increased 30.0%). ♡ Affinity Bonus: 106 (Rafayel’s Protective Skill) When you take a fatal blow, Rafayel teleports to you, blocks a hit, and counter attacks. Enemies will be knocked back. [ HP xxxx || DEF xx || ATK xxx ] Pair Bonus [TP] - Starting Effect: increases team DMG by 8%, reduces DMG taken by 8%, and increases Crit DMG by 10% when fighting alongside Sea Spirits. - Duo Rank 1: boosts Ardent Oath Charge by 20%. The starting level of Sea Spirits rises to Lv. 2, and Sea Spirits will last for 5 more seconds. - Duo Rank 2: increases Energy Charge cap by 1. During Heavenly Rain, recovery rate of energy charge is increased by 30%.

5☆ TEMPLE'S PROMISE (pearl/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using xx protocores

5☆ TEMPLE'S SUNSET (pearl/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ PRIVATE TRIP (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ TIPSY INVITATION (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 rank using xx SSR protocores

5☆ FIREWORKS VOW (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ UNFORGETTABLE ADVENTURE (amber/lunar) Lv 80 rank 1 using xx SSR protocores

signal boosting: @hunters-association

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rawliverandgoronspice · 2 years ago

Note

Okay so this has been on my mind for awhile and I wanted to get my thoughts out there. Regarding the topic of Rauru and Ganons relationship, I feel like rauru has kinda been bashed? people seem think that rauru in memory 6 (I believe) had a bit of a god complex, and that he was disrespectful. I feel as if rauru kinda had a right to act the way he did.

Rauru had wanted to become Allie’s with the gerudo. Not necessarily because he wants them to serve him but more for resources. Or more likely knowing Ganon he was attacking hyrule. The reason why I suspect this is because during the molduga incident rauru and Sonia seem to be very familiar with theses types of attacks. So it’s likely Ganon had ordered monster attacks on them before. Likely the attacks were getting to much for rauru and Sonia to handle; on top of establishing hyrule, rauru sent out messages for Ganon to join the kingdom in order to stop the attacks. Or another reasoning is that the gerudo were likely suffering. Ganon has been shown to not always prioritize his people. And knowing from past games the gerudo desert doesn’t have much resources. We can kinda see this in Totk they seem to only have hydromelon and voltfruit (I highly doubt that the gerudo had men at the time bringing them food from hyrules fields). If you’ve talked to rauru on the sky islands you’ll know that rauru is actually a very sweet and sympathetic guy, so I believe this could be a possibility.

Moving forward to raurus attitude during their meeting.Now rauru wasn’t exactly the nicest during the meeting, but I don’t really blame him. Rauru probably annoyed that ganon has been ignoring his letters and putting his people in danger. Also Ganon was very sketchy during that entire meeting and was rude in his tone.

Why did Ganon bow? Ganon and rauru are not equal, yes they are both kings but rauru has massive amounts of power and has a much larger land mass. (and zonia are kinda gods) but I don’t think the reasoning for Ganon bowing is because he less than or non equal to rauru. More like he was apologizing and giving rauru respect for the countless times he’s ignored him or tried to kill him.

More of raurus tone in the meeting Again I think he was really fed up with Ganon and rauru seems very non confrontational (he apologizes in the sky islands that the constructs attack link, and ask link not to be angry because they can’t understand) rauru likely wanted it to get into ganons mind not to attack the kingdom again because rauru had a lot of Allie’s and power and will attack Ganon if he pulls a stunt.

Ganon vs the gerudo. This part is a little off topic but, lots believe rauru is low key kinda racist towards the gerudo. But if this was true why was gerudo sage working with rauru? I don’t think that the way rauru acts is how he acts to all gerudo. The sage of lighting very obviously doesn’t like Ganon. The reasoning could be my first point. And later on after the imprisoning war the gerudo still stuck with hyrules side.

That’s all I have for right now, sorry if it’s all jumbled up I tried to make it coherent. Anyways I appreciate you for reading this :3

-🔺

Hi, thanks for the lengthy ask!! I'm sorry for the lengthy answer this beckoned, but I think this conversation is pretty important --even beyond Zelda and this specific case. We're talking themes and tropes and framing!!!!

I will try to reply to all of this in a way that kind of threads through several layers of why people have been bashing Rauru, me included. I will try my best to explain why I dislike this character, and try to parse out why I am this miffed by Tears of the Kingdom's storyline overall.

The long story short is: I don't dislike Rauru as a person (I mean, I also would tbh), I dislike him because of what he represents.

I think the waters did muddy a little in the "discourse" recently, and it's a good thing to take a step back and re-explain where I'm coming from (me personally, not going to speak for anyone but me here).

Also, before jumping in: this is not a condamnation on anyone who enjoys this story or these characters, nothing is unproblematic, it's fine, everybody does what they want, all of the things. I like the game and I keep playing the game in spite of being harshly critical of the ideas pushed forward. Also: it's fine to digest this and come back later (or not at all) if that feels like a lot, or if some of these ideas don't immediately click. But it's also partially why I think it's important: this game is aimed at a young audience, and one who might not have all of the keys to decipher what's going on, which is why I think it's quite irresponsible (which is the charitable interpretation) on Nintendo's part.

Anyway. Too many words underneath the cut.

The Story

So, first of all, I want to say that I believe you completely and fully read the situation as Nintendo intended it to be read. This is the text of the game (aka, the story taken at face value). You picked up on every single safeguard put into place to have Rauru and Sonia act in the most justifiable way possible, and have Ganondorf, on the other hand, act as a duplicitous, power-hungry and downright insane as they could have made him. In the reality of their universe, and only taking into account what is given to us through the narrative, trusting it comes from a neutral place and isn't influenced by anything, everything you said is 100% correct.

Rauru and Sonia WERE acting in self-defense, and were even kind not to turn their incommensurable power against the invading army.

The kingdom Rauru built as a demigod IS a paradise and they WERE very generous to invite neighboring nations to bask in their wealth and its technological and natural blessings (and the results of their extensive mining and why are there killer robots everywhere if this world was such a peaceful paradise uhh let's not ponder about this too much). That Ganondorf was too prideful and envious to accept IS a sin that rests solely with him.

Rauru IS a brave hero that sacrificed himself to seal the invader that killed his beloved wife.

Every single Sage IS extraordinarily devoted to protect both Rauru's lineage and their own lands, and gleefully pass down that duty to their ancestors --all thanks to Zelda, heir of that blessed royal line who returned to the past and made them promise to fight alongside Link to seal the Evil once more.

The gerudo WERE (apparently) oppressed, as they decided to fight under Rauru's authority freely (so against their own chief??) and, also, must make amends for having put Ganondorf in this world in the first place? ( I think we are already starting to see some contradictions --were you always victims or did you start this conflict in the first place? what is your place in all of this? why don't we ever get to know?)

This IS the story of Tears of the Kingdom. A story of a great sacrifice that happened in the golden mythical past (confirmed as unquestionable truth through the archeology motif), done by benevolent godly figures of royal blood and immense power they would never abuse, giving their everything to bring Light into a broken world corrupted by the degeneracy of Evil, echoed by the devotion of nations who swore fealty to that divine being and must now renew their vow in the present to defend their lands and Hyrule at any cost. Also, the impossible and magnificient suffering of the princess, whose tears lead to a trail of truth into the very land, informs the current population about why they're fighting now; she's at once a hero of the past and a martyr in the present, completely incapable of acting on her own, carrying with her the blade that will slay the crushing and violent sway of Evil for good and bring eternal peace into the land (Evil who uses her own appearance to cause chaos and violence against her own people --the blasphemy!!). The title of the game reflects this too: the Tears of the Kingdom are hers. Zelda is the kingdom here, and her pain/the pain of that mythical past is what is centered.

Also Ganondorf IS green so it's not racist okay let's stop right here and unpack all of this mess, because BOY oh boy oh boy oh boy.

oh boy.

The History

Now comes the time to point out the obvious, but that bears being repeated: this is a fictional story. It's a story crafted by a very powerful game company set in Japan. It's a story crafted by a huge number of people, who debated for years how to best tell it, why, and what for. Every single choice made in the narrative is purposeful, has been weighted against other options, and was picked over what could have been virtually anything else. Again, I want to state that I don't know if any single person took these decisions, probably not entirely, and it's even possible Nintendo didn't realize (I doubt it heavily tbh, but I'm sure there are people in the team that didn't get it or didn't see the issue), but a certain kind of story was crafted in the end, and it's the one we got.

One word that has been tossed around a lot as far as TotK's story goes is ✨ imperialism ✨, and I want to pause and take a second to analyse exactly what we mean by that and why I think it's painfully relevant here (and, honestly, I think another word would be very very relevant here also, but it's the kind of word you keep for after you're done with your argumentation not to scare off the unconvinced audience --but, to anyone who reads and might have picked it up already, yeah.)

In our real world of Earth 2023™, we have seen quite the number of extraordinarily powerful nations becoming gradually larger, engulfing neighbors, breaking apart, and leaving the buds of new future empires behind them. Hell, there's a number of them existing right now, even if they don't call themselves empires and don't have literal emperors at their head anymore (though Japan does, and it is important here). Of course, no nation, especially nations striving for expansion, worldwide legitimacy in culture and power, and their own understanding of "greatness", would ever call themselves anything but enlightened and justified. After all, the Roman Empire brings aqueducts and infrastructure to the lands they conquer, China unifies disparaging regions struggling under constant barbaric attacks, France and Spain converts local populations of the "New World" and save their souls from eternal damnation (wow thanks guysss), the British Empire brings industrial revolution uhhh everywhere please don't ask what was the cost, Africa sure loves everybody ripping their culture and lands apart and were so super glad to receive whatever "civilization" is supposed to mean when their literal people were being pillaged away to keep on building said empires using their blood as mortar, the URSS protects neighboring nations from the Evil Capital/West, fascists want to purge the world of anything they consider impure, the US brings freedom to the world and the whole world is grateful forever!!!

Everyone always has an excuse, and everyone is always kind of semi-mandated by God (in the largest possible sense; divine responsibility would perhaps be more appropriate, it's kind of the idea that with great power comes responsibility, while defining what responsibility means and inflicting their conclusions to conquered lands to squeeze even more value out of them) to do whatever the hell they want to others, claim their lands, their bodies, their minds, their culture --and demand gratefulness on top of it all to avoid having to feel bad.

There is a large body of fictional works that are dedicated to boister the image of the Empire. Every single empire has a number of them; their goal is often to mythologize, in some form or another, the story of their expansion. It often flattens every nuance, paints the actions of the empire as the natural order of the world and its opposition as morally malignant, their leaders are charismatic, benevolent, powerful and self-sacrificial. Often, it invokes previous empires to cast the current one as inheriting a grace that was tragically lost and must be restored through war, hard work, and healthy natality --I'll dip into the forbidden comparaison but Nazi Germany loved its greek myths of Sparta and Athens (and modern day fascists still do), or the Napoleon Wars so they could retell the story of their own empire by invoking a legacy of moral diligence and ethnical greatness being restored. But the pattern is often very similar: we used to be Great, a tragic event due to both external invasion and internal corruption precipitated our golden age into chaos and degeneracy, and now we must fight off current day corruption to restore the Glory of the old times we lost --all of this under the benevolent gaze of our leaders, whose mission is a direct or indirect intervention of divinity into mortal lives. It is righteous and glorious to fight/die for the nation (and its leaders) and protect it from the uncivilized, who are inhuman and exist solely to trick us, corrupt us, attack us and assimilate/destroy us.

Are we starting to notice some similarities here :) :) :)

The Narrative

There's two conversations running in parallel here.

The first one is the least important in my opinion, even though it's the one we tend to focus on a lot as theorists/enthusiasts/enjoyers of media: is Rauru oppressing the gerudos, and does that inform Ganondorf's actions?

Honestly? Textually? Probably not.

There are arguments to be made (and that deserve to be made) about the insane power imbalance, there are a lot of suspicious aspects that deserve to be picked apart like the address and deference of Ganondorf towards Rauru, the whole mining thing that I don't see being discussed much but could be a huge part of it --there are ancient mines in the gerudo region after all; since when? what's the history here?-- the strange masks the Sages are to wear when Zelda, as a direct descendant, isn't wearing any, etc etc. Lots of other posts have been made about the million tiny red flags that litter the game, but I think that if we take the game at face value, they barely matter. I would love them to have been placed with intent (and they maybe were as a desperate attempt by an employee trying to inject grayness back in the equation and if that's the case I SEE YOU random gamedev and I love you and you did the best you could <3), but to me that's more a case of wishful fan thinking (including mine tbh) that any concrete argument that the story is secretely about Rauru being imperialist and this costing him everything. There are some hints of a more nuanced world (the Horned God, the Bargainers, that some NPCs are invested in monsters are creatures worthy of study and awe --tho almost all of them ridiculed in some form), but these demand that you go out of your way to collect them and make the connection yourself. Can this even qualify as subtext? As in: the story under the story? As much as I wish this was the case, I don't think so. We can't make the case that it's a simple story for children that isn't trying to say anything grand while also demanding people to make insane mental gymnastics on their own, without any help on the game's part, for it not to be a blatant endorsement of imperialist thinking.

(especially not the kind of game that repeats 3 different times back to back that Sidon didn't talk to Yona because he was afraid to lose her like he lost Mipha --honestly what's up with this writing I don't get it, BotW didn't act like its players' brain was this unplugged, ANYWAY)

The story is about Ganondorf being duplicitous and monstrous and destroying the beautiful kingdom of the past, and us preserving our modern day kingdom from its corrupting influence by recruiting allies and friends in that fight. We are given a plethora of situations that paint him as inhumanely cruel and chaotic, and none that breath even the suggestion of a critique towards our heroes. He's evil: we must stop him.

Now comes the second conversation, and one I think is more important: is this entire storyline built off imperialist tropes that were created to oppress and exploit marginalized populations in real life while justifying the violence inflincted upon them?

In my opinion, yes. Undeniably so.

I am not so much invested in Rauru being racist towards Ganondorf; I am invested in the real life Nintendo videogame being racist towards the idea that Ganondorf represents: the scary foreigner that will lead to the fall of civilization if we let him in.

(and perhaps this was Rauru's hubris all along: to believe he could let a scary (male) foreigner in and then trust him to remain docile.... a little too much. And then he reaped what he sowed.

checkmate liberal.

This makes an uncomfortable amount of sense and I kinda hate having made the connection tbh)

This is especially true when it's the second time around that this exact storyline is represented, and I believe it to be much more insidious this time around --because now, gerudos are our friendssss and feel great shame and personal responsibility towards that aspect of them that once rebelled. Meanwhile in OoT, a majority of them were onboard with Ganondorf as their leader and explicitely did not want to be assimilated in the kindgom (Nabooru being specifically painted as one of the exceptions). I go more in depth about all of this in this pre-TotK post about gerudo culture. We had plenty of conversations about orientalism and islamophobic representation in videogames since; it was A Thing at the time, the turn of the century was particularly egregious in that regard. But It's not 1998 anymore, and I personally believe it's pretty inexcusable to rethread that same ground beat by beat without batting an eye at any of its implications (especially since they have done better since; even Twilight Princess, who gave him very little grace overall, dared to criticize hylians through Midna, Zelda and even Zant --and Wind Waker towed the line rather beautifully between the part of him that was human and the part that was monstrous, and the tragedy of these two cancelling each other out constantly). I was expecting much, much better than what we got --I didn't even dare to imagine they would just double-down on that aspect and make a worse version of Ocarina of Time to reintroduce the character.

This is also partially why I'm so uncomfortable with the green skin situation: can you imagine how this scene would have felt like, with the single brown-skinned guy having a central role in the game kneeling in front of a white old man with a droopy mustache (which was Rauru's first iteration in the series, and the one I always keep in mind when having these conversations) and his blonde wife, and Zelda being "hmmm he's evil for sure"? And then he 100% is, with no justification or reason beyond an urge to consume the entire world --even this, which is not uninteresting, remaining completely unexplored in a 150+ hour open-world game that decided to focus on everything under the sun EXCEPT Ganondorf's motivations and his relationship to his own people? Can you imagine how obvious of a racist caricature Ganondorf would have been just by keeping his skin a normal brown (not to pretend he's not already super coded as Foreign in every possible way)? The man is intimidating, uncomfortable to be around, he's greedy and power-hungry, he's insane, he comes for our lands and our women and oppresses his own and also corrupts everything through either infiltration or literal disease. Also he's uhhh the Devil, for good measure.

As much as we can rationalize and embrace these parts of who he is as fans, there's no ignoring how icky this entire situation really is.

So, to tie everything together.

There are three readings of this game competing in my head.

The first one is: the textual interpretation. Rauru is self-sacrificial and a victim, Zelda is deeply brave and an icon of the empire's longevity and deep-rooted history, Ganondorf is utterly inhuman and must be destroyed at all costs. What the game says it is --and what it is.

The second one is: the critical interpretation. That this story sounds awfully convenient for the prosperity of the Empire (here the empire being Hyrule), paints Zelda, the current leader, in a weird fanficky way by literally sending her back to the past with her super cool ancestors and allowing a military victory in the present while also being a martyr to the cause and being much more of a symbol than a person, and nobody even bats a fucking eye in the direction that Hyrule might have been questionable in any way --everyone is so happy to be a vassal, see? Let's not unpack why the king of the zoras prefered hiding himself than facing the consequences of what would happen if Zelda really did attack him out of the blue (this plot point is insane, but its potential is too good so therefore it's illegal and immediately dropped). Let's not unpack the absolute insane amount of abuse false Zelda gets away with by virtue of acting as the princess of a sacred bloodline (but she's nice, right? because that's how you want to make a sure a ruler won't hurt you: praying they will be nice). There are enough red flags to doubt this world, its reality, the complexity of these people's inner lives. The rejection of the notion that any sort of flaw or problem could exist within the system makes it borderline dystopian in my opinion (especially when compared with BotW's Hyrule, which had problems who led to its own downfall and were the fault of nobody but their own actions as Ganon is portrayed more as a natural event than an actual, malicious person), and this is the first reason why I don't like Rauru: the entire world revolves around this goat-kangaroo-furry man's chiseled navel. Everyone is, quite literally, a faceless tool in the glorious and tragic story of his lost empire (or they're women here to become sacrificial objects serving the fights of men; or they're Ganondorf, who's a non-person and an antagonistic object lacking any interiority or humanity, and the narrative being completely uninterested in that), and only his bloodline and his vision for the future really matters. Not that Rauru thinks like this --but the game does. And so, it's hard for me not to see him as either the most narcissistic person ever if we accept him as the narrator of this story, or a flat propaganda machine built for an even greater cause (Hyrule, the Empire).

And then, the third one: that Nintendo would put out a game that is so deeply embedded in imperialist and orientalist language and tropes, so invested in its traditional and patriarchal values, so uncurious about the Other and so critical of it while refusing to look inward, is not neutral (yes even if the game is super fun and has other great qualities, I do believe this game is a monumental achievement in game/level design and in optimization/tech art while also being a trainwreck in quest and narrative design). This rethoric is not neutral, especially when addressed at the West at large --especially right now, with such a global uptick in traditionalist values overall, and Japan not exactly being spared. I won't pretend to be knowledgeable enough about Japanese history and culture to pick up all the little nuances of what is going on here, but I know enough to recognize that such stories do play out a certain understanding of this country's history, its fears and its difficulties to reconcile with its own (very recent) past as a colonialist empire --both the terrors it unleashed on others and the terrors that were unleashed upon it as it was dismantled. Instead of exploring that subject, every potential for nuance and conversation and self-criticism is slammed shut immediately, often at the cost of their own characters and the depth of their quest design/writing. The unearthed past agrees with its current understanding of itself; there is nothing discovered that leads to being questioned and reconsidered. Everything wrong is the fault of a single, corrupting entity that can be identified as Foreign and Other. There is a literal Heaven (zonai and civilized, Rauru's) and Hell (monstrous and corroding, Ganon's). None of this is neutral. Especially when infused in a game targeted for a young audience lacking context.

So I hope this very verbose answer helped a little to parse out what is being criticized at which level! Thank you for giving your thoughts, and I hope mine were clarifying to a degree.

I understand it can get a little confusing; but a lot of the urge not to take this scene at face value is born from the knowledge that nothing is ever that simple in real life, that these sort of self-serving narratives often hide horrific amounts of systemic harm underneath its perfectly curated presentation, and that, well. Some Zelda fans, especially the older generations that were invested in these characters and their re-imagining, expected Nintendo to be less..... like this.

And the wake-up call stings a little more than we would have liked.

(again obligatory disclaimer that I'm not saying TotK is Bad or should be Cancelled or that you're Bad for liking it --but it's still important to explicitly talk about how themes like these are being utterly glossed over when I don't think they would have been if they'd come out of a new IP, and not with the huge nostalgia cloud that envelops The Legend of Zelda and has people being extremely uncomfortable at criticizing the ideas the series can sometimes champion --though the series never veered in that direction nearly as hard before in my opinion)

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tayfabe75 · 7 months ago

Text

Matty Healy: Cancelled on purpose?

"I'd rather be a pretend supervillain than some pretend hero." (x)

Matty Healy. If you're familiar with the name, chances are good you've already got an opinion about him. Probably a strong one, if I had to guess! Since opinions about Matty Healy tend to come in just two shades: black and white - revered and reviled. On the one hand, you've got people sleeping in tents on sidewalks, sometimes in sketchy cities and inclement weather, just for the chance to see him up close; on the other hand, you have chronically online Twitter users praying for his early demise, using AI art to bring their most depraved wishes to life. So, what's going on, exactly?

"The only fear I have is provoking ambivalence in people. I'd rather people be angry at me than be bored." (x)

And get angry they did! Matty's 2023 cancellation even earned him Pitchfork's "Villain of the Year" title! But...

Did he plan for it to happen all along?

On October 14th, 2022, Matty appears on Chicken Shop Date with Amelia Dimoldenberg. She confronts him about his plan to go on a podcast and pleads, "please don't", to which Matty replies:

"It's probably good advice."

A couple of months later in December 2022, Zane Lowe reveals that Matty meticulously planned their entire interview, lovingly describing him as a "TROLL!" Likewise, when questioned about their ambitious 'At Their Very Best' tour, Matty says that though the tour "feels loose", it's actually "very, very tight" and "very, very well-rehearsed".

Fast-forward to February 2nd, 2023: Matty makes an appearance on Q with Tom Power, where he describes his interest in the flimsy nature of interviews, saying:

"I could fuck my career, I could be a different person, I could do a Chinese accent, I could do anything!"

About a week later, on February 9th, 2023, Matty appeared on the Adam Friedland Show podcast. For context, this podcast is classified as "black comedy, blue humor, surreal humor, anti-humor, and political satire". It is associated with the "Dirtbag left", which is described as "a style of left-wing politics that eschews civility to convey a left-wing populist and anti-capitalist message using vulgarity". In other words, they're trolls. Just like Matty.

Now, to make things easier for anyone reading who wants the full context, I clipped Matty's three "unforgivable offenses" from the dreaded podcast: here is the "ghetto gaggers" moment, the "Ice Spice" moment, and the "accents" moment. I hope you can tell the difference between British and American accents…

Adam and Nick would go on to clarify that they didn't actually know which website Matty was watching. Likewise, very recently, the woman who walked in on Matty clarified that he was not even watching ghetto gaggers:

When asked about the podcast and whether he baited his fans on purpose, Matty said:

"A little bit. But it doesn't actually matter. Nobody is sitting there at night slumped at their computer, and their boyfriend comes over and goes, 'What's wrong, darling?' and they go, 'It's just this thing with Matty Healy.' That doesn't happen."

Yet, it does! Shortly after the podcast, Matty's fans expressed their distaste for his appearance on The Adam Friedland Show. Part of that might be because it was amplified by this tweet from Yungblud:

Interestingly, a few months prior to his tweet, Yungblud went on record stating his admiration for Matty Healy in November 2022. And after Matty's very "unserious" video response wherein he mocks Yungblud, but Dom would later go on to admit that he found the whole thing funny and that he still likes the guy.

Conveniently, Ice Spice also happened to go on record with her admiration for The 1975 shortly before the dreaded podcast, in January 2023!:

"I listen to alternative music. I feel like a lot of people wouldn't expect that. Yeah, shout out Coldplay, The 1975. Obsessed with them."

This, of course, made the joke about her sting that much more a month later… Now, if Matty simply promoted Ice Spice by praising her on his social media accounts, she might have gotten a small boost in streams, that's true. But think about that pretend villain quote again… by taking the fall for a barely offensive joke that he didn't even say, himself… Matty practically turned Ice Spice into a household name.

And before you go assuming Taylor collaborated with Ice Spice purely as damage control… well, there was a rumor about the collab almost a full month before it dropped, on April 27th. And here's what Ice Spice had to say about it:

"That was mostly through management. I was talking about how I was watching Taylor's documentary 'cause I just wanted to really take notes as an artist and stuff like that. Just like how the lifestyle is for such a big artist like her. My manager heard me talking about that and had like reached out to her team and then they had a song for me and everything just played out real good."

Ice Spice's clarification often gets ignored in favor of the more dramatic version of events. The same way Matty's apology addressing the situation from last April gets ignored by so-called journalists who are rewarded for their biases via clickbait titles.

Ice Spice also clarified that Matty apologized to her personally several times:

"I saw him at the Jean Paul Gaultier party a couple days ago, and he was like, 'Hey, you OK?' and I'm like, 'Of course.' He apologized to me a bunch of times. We're good."

Speaking of podcasts… on April 8th, The 1975 released an episode of 'A Theatrical Performance of an Intimate Moment' (filmed in March) where Matty appears to be rehearsing lines for an upcoming and seemingly "candid" interview with Caveh Zahedi:

On April 15th, Matty revealed that he inspired the rat from Flushed Away. Now, Matty probably didn't actually inspire the character of Roddy St. James (although he really was close to one of the film's writers, Ian La Frenais, who was his mother's godfather), but... with this joke, he had just cemented his own "vermin" moniker that would continue to be used to insult him to this very day (sound familiar? 🐍)

What was it Taylor said? Ah, that's right:

"If you make the joke first and you make the joke better, then it's not as funny when other people call you a name."

Almost a week later, on April 21st, Matty would go on a four-minute speech on stage in Auckland, New Zealand, "finally" providing an apology and an explanation for the whole podcast debacle:

"It's not because I'm annoyed that me joking got misconstrued, it's because I don't want Ice Spice to think I'm a dick. I love you, Ice Spice. I'm so sorry. But I don't want to be… I don't want anything to get misconstrued to be mean. I just want to say, 'Hello. This is a bit embarrassing. I'm sorry if I get it wrong. We all get it wrong'. You know? Like, I just have to do it in public and then apologize to Ice Spice, and my life's just a bit weird. But I am genuinely sorry if I've upset her because I fucking love her."

Ignoring this pre-existing apology, on May 17th, Taylor's fans (allegedly) penned the "SpeakUpNow campaign", urging Taylor to dump Matty. On May 30th, Brad Troemel published the "Taylor Swift Fan Union", a series of satirical infographics targeting Taylor's most entitled fans.

Taylor and Matty were reported to have broken up on June 5th, just one month after Taylor had the nerve to date someone of her own volition, without first seeking fan permission!

And things were about to get even worse for Matty, as his labelmate Rina Sawayama would go on to call him out at Glastonbury in June:

"I wrote this next song because I was sick and tired of micro-aggressions. So, tonight, this song goes out to a white man who watches Ghetto Gaggers and mocks Asian people on a podcast. He also owns my masters. I've had enough."

Yet… Matty resigned from his position at Dirty Hit at the beginning of April, which, at the very least, should call the ownership of Rina's masters into question. Speaking of Rina, she's historically a friend of Matty's! Here she is photographed with Matty's dog Mayhem in 2020. And when Matty took over The Face podcast, they asked some of The 1975's friends to cover their songs… Rina was selected and chose 'Love It If We Made It'.

Speaking of Matty's friends… Bleachers were hand-picked to perform at The 1975's Finsbury Park show on July 2nd, where Matty would label Jack his best friend. Yet, just one month later, Matty would be allegedly "disinvited" from Jack's wedding.

In August 2023, Bleachers would go on to join The 1975's Dirty Hit label (alongside Rina). That same month, an episode of The Ion Pack podcast featuring Matty was published, revealing that Brad Troemel "lit a fire" underneath him "massively". Yep! The guy from earlier who created the "Taylor Swift Fan Union". And, though the podcast was published in August, it was filmed all the way back in November 2022…

Brad would go on to help co-write The 1975's 'Still At Their Very Best' Tour, which would launch in September 2023 (yep, the same month as Matty and Taylor's new relationships!):

During the SATVB tour, on February 13, 2024, Matty would describe what he does on stage as "simulating a breakdown", and, as was always intended, Matty's fans largely fell into the trap he laid… (or, at least, I personally saw a lot of speculation regarding Matty's possible drug relapse and mental health issues all over Reddit and Twitter, based solely on his on-stage performance - well, that and gossip blinds, I'm sure).

But... Matty called it a year earlier, in February 2023, when he said:

"I like these lines of like, blurring between what people consider is real. Because with the internet now, there's also a forum. So, there's a lot of conversation right now about like, whether I'm back on drugs, or whether the show is real."

Remember that pesky podcast that started all this mess? The Adam Friedland Podcast? Well, it's co-created and produced by Nick Mullen. Check out this file Matty shared on December 28th, 2023:

It's a little blurry, so let me actually type it out:

UNTITLED MH PILOT "Canceled" Written by Nick Mullen

Some interesting things started happening at The 1975's shows this February. Matty began playing the clip from Q with Tom Power during Consumption (the one about how he could fuck his career and do a Chinese accent if he wanted). And, in the midst of a seemingly earnest speech, Matty breaks the fourth wall, encouraging his fans to be skeptical of things they see on screens - even seemingly sincere moments...

I'll close this out by reminding anyone who happens to have read this far that Matty grew up watching tabloids profit off of made-up lies about his parents, and the media might have destroyed his relationship with the woman of his dreams (we'll see!) Basically, if anyone has the means and motive to troll the media, it's Matty Healy.

#theory: matty's cancellation #theory: cancelled on purpose

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