#hate it all you want (i sure af do) but stop turning them into victims and stripping them from their canonical agency just bc it's | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

literaila · 4 years ago

Text

hand me the heartbreak

spencer reid x reader

request: Would it be okay to request a fic where y/n works in the bau with spencer and is in love him but he's in love with maeve. Then when maeve gets kidnapped so is y/n by their greatest enemy or person who scares them and spencer and the team have to choose who to prioritize. Please make it angsty af but the ending is up to you

warnings: mentions of suicide, mentions of blood, panic attacks, mentions of drugs, shitty shitty writing, death obviously and angst.

There was a spark to Spencer's eyes.

A distinct spark.

He was smiling more often, he was more distracted, and every time the phone rang he jumped up in surprise and his eyes darted toward it.

Y/N had noticed.

She saw the far off look on his face when he didn't have anything to do, she saw how quickly he packed up his things when it was time to leave instead of staying late, she saw him checking his watch more and more and she’d noticed his more persistent declines when the team tried to invite him out.

She’d noticed the way he had been declining her calls more often, the way he wasn't constantly coming up with new things to say when they were talking about something. The way his information got shorter and shorter.

She’d noticed it all.

She didn't understand what was going on, she wondered if this was what he acted like when he was still dealing with his addiction when he was still doing drugs and the rest of the team had pretended like everything was fine. She hadn't been there the first time. She wondered if she was going to be there for the second.

It wasn't that she didn't trust him, god she did, she trusted him with her life. But she knew how cruel addiction was, and she’d seen family members struggle with it her whole life, she’d noticed the distant way they all had of acting. Y/N trusted Spencer and she would never want him to believe she didn't, but she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure if these signs, these little things she’d noticed, she wasn't sure if they were his addiction signs. And she wasn't sure whether she should talk to him about it or not.

She wouldn't blame him, wouldn't think of him any less, she wouldn't even blink an eye if she was right, but she didn't want him to feel like no one noticed- once again -like no one cared enough to notice.

She didn't want to notice and then not do anything about it. She didn't want it to be happening at all, but if it was she wanted to be there for him. Be there for him like he was there for her.

She wasn't sure what to do.

She was used to watching him, used to memorizing every step he took, used to taking in his little quirks, all the things that made Spencer… Spencer.

She wasn't used to him being so distracted.

She wasn't used to the spark in his eyes.

And so she had to go to someone, she couldn't just ignore the changes in him, so she went to his best friend.

She went to JJ.

“Is there something going on with Spencer?” she’d asked in the car, they were heading over to a victim's house, going to look at how the victim lived. It was right after she’d noticed Spencer fidgeting with something in his pocket, right after he looked far more nervous and fidgety than he ever did.

“What?” JJ asked, giving her a side glance than looking back to the road.

“Haven't you noticed the strange way he's been acting recently?” Y/N said, completely serious now.

JJ paused and thought for a moment, Y/N was turned in the passenger seat facing her, waiting for her reaction.

“Well, yeah, a little.”

Y/N felt her body relax. She hadn't been going crazy.

“Really? So what do you think is wrong, I- I hate to ask this but do you think… do you think maybe he relapsed?” She stumbled over her words, getting quieter and quieter with each letter that left her mouth.

“No,” JJ said softly. If Y/N hadn't been so lost in her thoughts of Spencer, she would’ve noticed the slight smirk on JJ’s face, she would have seen the humor in her eyes, she would have seen the secret JJ had been keeping from her.

“You don't think so?”

“He's acting a lot different than he did. More…” JJ paused and Y/N could feel the anxiety crawling up her stomach.

“More what?” she asked insistently.

“Well, Derek thinks that…” JJ smiled and paused again, teasing Y/N’s curiosity.

“JJ? What?”

“He thinks that Spence has a girlfriend.”

And there was a moment, a flicker of a moment, that was silent, a moment where Y/N wasn't thinking, breathing wasn't alive. There was a moment of complete utter silence.

It was a moment too long.

She felt JJ look over her, she could feel JJ’s curiosity at her silence, could feel the questions she wanted to ask pounding at her head.

She didn't want to tell her, she didn't want to tell anyone, she didn't even think it was true, didn't even know what she would do if it was.

She wasn't going to tell anyone.

“That's good,” she said quietly, her voice quivering over the words, her mind shaking with complete disappointment.

She ignored the way JJ kept looking over at her.

She ignored the way her heart had fallen into her stomach, being burned alive by acid.

***

Love.

Lovestruck.

That's what Spencer was.

The entire time, he’d been distracted because of a girl, he’d been spending time with his girlfriend, he’d been thinking about his girlfriend, he’d been loving her, and imagining her, and treating her, and taking care of his girlfriend.

The spark in his eyes was love.

He’d been loving his girlfriend.

Girlfriend.

He had a girlfriend.

Y/N was still trying to process it.

She was still trying to categorize his feelings in her head, trying to remember that every time he looked off, every time he was distracted, he was thinking of his girlfriend. He had a girlfriend and there wasn't anything wrong, he was in love he was in love.

There was nothing wrong with love.

At first, she’d been hesitant to believe it. She knew how much Derek teased Spencer, she knew the jokes they liked to play with each other, it wouldn't be a surprise if Derek had just been making something up, had just been wishing it was true.

So JJ telling her didn't make it true. She didn't actually know he had a girlfriend. At that point, it was just a rumor, it was just a rumor she’d heard and she didn't believe rumors, she didn't spend her days thinking about rumors.

It wasn't until,

Y/N was resting her head on Spencer's shoulder, he was flipping through a book while she sat there staring at his hands, watching him flip the pages. This was a normal activity for the two, they spent most plane rides home sitting together and relaxing, keeping their minds off of the horrors they saw every day at work.

She was breathing in and out on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his body, enjoying the pillow under her cheek. She felt so at peace, so in tune with everything, so perfect for that moment.

And then she remembered.

She had to ask Spencer about it, she had to know if she was believing something that wasn't even true, she had to know if she had to keep worrying about it, if she had to stop cuddling with him on plane rides home, if she had to back off because he was in love.

She had to know if he was happy.

She had to know if he loved her.

“Spence?” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. The rest of the team was asleep on the plane, exhausted from the case, but even with them asleep Y/N wasn't going to risk any of them hearing.

“Yes?” he said, moving his eyes from the book in front of him to Y/N’s hands fidgeting in her lap. He smiled at her and then moved his head to rest it on hers, as a sign he was listening.

Y/N wasn't sure how to start, wasn't sure how to tell him what everyone else thought they knew. She wasn't even sure if he knew Derek was sharing his secrets.

She had no idea what to say.

“I- um I have to ask you something.”

She was playing with the rings on her fingers, listening to Spencer breathe in and out, feeling the nerves in her chest and throat, telling her to stop talking.

She had to ask.

“Okay,” he said. Spencer was used to people asking him things, was used to being the person with all the answers.

A slight pause in the conversation, a slight silence where both of them were just breathing, a moment for Y/N to tell her nerves to shut up.

“Derek said… You have a girlfriend?”

Spencer's shoulder tensed underneath her head, she felt his jaw get tense. She hoped he wasn't angry.

“It's okay if you don't want to tell me, I understand I mean- I was just wondering and I-”

“Y/N.”

She stopped and moved her head from his shoulder.

“Yes?”

“You know how sometimes you have to ask me to stop rambling?” She nodded her head shyly “Well now it's my turn.”

Y/N turned away. Her nerves were back at full force, now even louder, telling her that what she said was stupid that what she thought was ridiculous that what-

“It's true.”

She looked up at him. His face was ablaze, his smirk was shy, and his eyes were lovestruck.

His eyes were lovestruck. He looked happy and excited and nervous and perfect and beautiful and he looked he looked he looked

In love.

His eyes were lovestruck.

There was a spark.

He had admitted it, he had confirmed the rumor, he had a girlfriend and it was true and everything she’d been thinking about was true, and he had a girlfriend, and Derek wasn't just kidding, he wasn't just teasing this time, and he had a girlfriend, and everything was fine, everything was perfect for Spencer he just had a girlfriend.

He really had a girlfriend.

Y/N didn't want to say anything, she didn't want to think even a word, she didn't want to even have a brain anymore, she didn't want to talk and she didn't want to think and she didn't want to be there, for the first time she didn't want to be with him she didn't think she could be sitting next to him anymore.

Her mouth betrayed her.

“Really?” she asked, and she wanted to slap a hand over her mouth, she wanted to tear her voice out and never speak to Spencer again.

How could she say that?

She hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

But when she looked up at him he was looking down at the floor and he was smiling, he was smiling down and she could see his dimples and his eyes were crinkled.

She’d never seen him smile like that before.

“Well, not really. She's not really my girlfriend.” and even with words that could’ve repaired Y/N’s heart, even with words that should’ve broken Spencers, he was still smiling, he was still smiling at the floor.

She didn't want to think anymore.

She couldn't stop herself from asking, “do you want her to be?”

And Spencer smiled more, he was smirking, and he looked like he was dreaming, and he looked up at her, his eyes much more expressive, much more different than Y/N had ever seen them before.

“Yeah,” he said.

Yeah, yes, yep, he did, he wanted her to be his girlfriend, he looked in love, he looked like a completely different person.

He looked so happy.

“What's her name?” Y/N asked, and she tried to ignore the bile in her throat that replaced the words, she tried to ignore the growing feeling in her chest that had been there all week, and she tried to ignore the smile on his face and tried to not think about that smile.

She listened.

She pretended to listen.

She pretended she still wanted to think, she still wanted to feel, she still wanted to breathe.

Maeve.

He looked so happy.

***

“She wants to meet.”

“Wait. You guys haven't ever met?”

Y/N listened quietly, confused, dreading Spencer's answer.

She assumed he shook his head because it was silent before Blake spoke again

“Aren't you curious what she looks like?”

Wasn't he? He was in love with her, and he’d never met her? He’d never seen her? Never touched her?

“I don't, it doesn't matter what she looks like, I mean, she's already the most beautiful girl in the world to me “

And Y/N stopped listening.

She shut her mind off, erased her presence, got rid of the aching in her heart, and went to go talk to someone else.

Terror.

Cold blatant terror.

Running up her spine, across her lungs, grabbing her by the throat and swinging her insides around.

It was everywhere. In her mind, in her lungs, in her veins, in her heart tearing her to pieces bit by bit.

It was making her feel like she had no idea what was going on. But she did, she knew where she was and she knew who was there, and she knew what she had done wrong, and she knew everything and she wasn't sure what to do, that was the one thing she didn't know.

God, she wished she knew.

Zugzwang.

It's a chess term.

It meant you were at a disadvantage.

It meant someone was going to die.

Being good at her job, it gave her the disadvantage in this situation, knowing every single person that had been in the room she was trapped in, it gave her the disadvantage, knowing who was waiting for something to happen in an office surrounded by people trying to figure it out, it gave her a disadvantage.

Zugzwang.

That's what he had said, that's what he had explained to all of them, explained to all of them while letting out his secrets, her secrets, their secrets.

She knew everything now.

She wished she didn't.

Disadvantage.

Zugzwang.

She looked around the room, recognized the walls, the paintings, the paintings scrawled across the floor, across the room, papers everywhere. She looked around and saw a desk, she saw an old desk, a bed-sitting right next to her, she saw a dresser on the other side of the room, she saw a closet door, one she knew was locked.

She wished she didn't know that.

Terror was running up the walls and spreading itself across the room, terror laced onto the bed, glued on there permanently, there was terror laced in the key she knew was in one of the drawers in the desk, terror hid in that key that opened the closet. There was terror laced on the chair she was tied to, the chair that was holding her down keeping her in place.

She used to sit in this chair.

Zugzwang.

There was terror in her face, in the tape that was keeping her mouth shut, the tape keeping her voice held hostage, her feelings trapped in. It was in her hair, that was in knots around her face, and in her eyes blocking some of her view.

On a normal day, she would’ve blown it out of the way.

There was terror laced in her eyes, her eyes that felt like they were being held down, held down and kept there so she couldn't open them, terror in the way she wondered who was holding them down and why they wouldn't let go. There was terror all around her, keeping her trapped in four walls, keeping her trapped in a box. A box that she really really wanted to get out of.

There was terror in the way she could barely breathe, could barely find the strength through the pain in her ribs to breathe.

There was terror in the way she couldn't remember why her ribs hurt so much, why they were stabbing her repeatedly every time she tried to just breathe in.

She didn't know what was going on.

She did know.

She did.

What was going on?

“Y/N! Come swing with me!”

“Can’t Diane. We have school.”

Diane frowned, as Y/N turned around to get her backpack, pulling her arm out of her little sister's grip and walking towards the door.

“Why won't you ever spend time with me!” Diane demanded, stomping her foot as Y/N stood there with a disinterested look on her face.

“Diane, we have to go, Mom’s going to be upset if we’re late.”

“No! I want to swing.” The little girl turned around definitely, walking outside to the old swing set that rested in their backyard.

“Diane! We have to go.”

The little girl in question turned around and stuck her tongue out at the other girl. And then she ran towards the swingset, jumping on it and starting to swing.

“Diane!” Y/N yelled, sighing, and putting down her bag to go get her. “I wish I had a new little sister,” she muttered under her breath.

Y/N thought about what had happened, thought about the last thing she remembered but her mind was blank and her memory was only coming back in bits and pieces.

Why couldn't she remember anything?

She struggled against the zip tie holding her down, she pulled and tried to kick her legs out of it, trying to find a way to cut it. She knew screaming wouldn't do her any good, they were too isolated and she would be too quiet.

She knew that eventually if she tried enough she could get out.

She’d been trained for this, she knew how to get out. She did.

“Poor big sister,” someone said, walking into the room, letting some of the terror crawl out of the crack in the door, they walked around the bed and over to the chair, where Y/N was still trying to kick her way out of, still trying to just get out. “Don't like not being in charge?” They asked, pouting their lips and smirking at Y/N.

She darted her eyes around, looking for something new, anything new, anything to hint to her how to get out, how to leave as quickly as possible.

The only thing she saw was the gun they were holding.

She felt the terror fall into her voice, felt herself try to scream, felt her body use its last method of self-defense, nothing could escape, and the terror was still trying to climb out of her mouth, still trying to leave her, to get out.

The only thing she heard was a laugh, a quiet chuckle, that was arrogant. One that Y/N thought she had heard so many times before, so many times with so many different Unsubs, unsubs that thought they were better than anyone, Unsubs that were arrogant.

She felt her eyes roll back into her head.

“Tsk, tsk, Y/N. Shouldn't an FBI agent like you have escaped by now?” the person in front of her taunted, and they were waving the gun around, pacing in front of Y/N.

She tried to stay calm, tried to not let her body react to the words.

She couldn't.

There was another laugh, another chuckle, another reminder of who was in front of her.

She wished she could speak, wished she could yell and scream and try to use her interrogation skills, and she wanted to speak, she wanted to speak more than she ever had before.

But,

There was tape in front of her mouth, keeping her emotions trapped inside her body like a prison, kept everything she felt locked deep inside of her.

It felt like she was about to explode.

“Oh,” they said, in mock surprise, only making Y/N want to scream more. “I forgot you can't speak.” they pouted, “poor baby.”

Y/N looked at them, stared right into their familiar eyes, looked right at them.

She glared, she glared for herself, she glared for the house that had been overruled by terror, she glared for the terrified people in the other room, for the people that were waiting for her.

She glared right at them.

And with that, Diane lifted her hand,

And hit Y/N’s head with the barrel of her gun.

Zugzwang.

“Our correspondence started 10 months ago.”

10 months of not knowing something was happening, 10 months of watching from the sidelines while he started getting distracted, 10 months of letters and phone calls once a week, 10 months of being in love, 10 months of watching Spencer change.

10 months of Spencer being happy.

It was alright. It was only 10 months.

“She wrote me a compliment on my "Journal of Behavioral Psych" article, and for 3 months, this is how we communicated because she was scared.”

All it took was one compliment, one letter, one tiny moment in the millions of moments Spencer spent with Y/N. It was just one thing.

And he was in love.

“Scared of what Spence?” she asked softly.

He looked panicked, his eyes were wild, and his hair was greasy, and he was pacing, he was pacing around Hotch’s office while the two of them watched, watching him deteriorate with every word.

“She didn't know, only that he was dangerous,” he said, his hands flying wildly as he explained. His voice was calm, but it was easy to tell that the stress had gotten to his brain, that anxiety was burning him from the inside out.

He went on to explain telling them about the letters, the phone calls, he explained that it didn't matter where she moved, that there was a stalker following her somewhere.

He explained how he knew she was missing.

His girlfriend was missing.

His girlfriend was missing, and he was ripping at the seams.

And Y/N was going to have to help find her. She was going to have to help Spencer find her, find the girl he barely knew, the girl he had never seen, never mentioned to any of them until recently, the girl whose last name was a mystery to all of them, the girl who he didn't have a clue about, the girl he was still in love with despite that.

Despite not knowing what she looked like, despite not knowing the little important details that made a person, despite not knowing anything about her except the small details she was willing to share with him.

The girl who Spencer loved.

Maeve.

When Y/N woke up she was in a different room.

She was sitting next to two different people.

She was sitting next to Maeve. She was sitting next to Spencer's girlfriend. She was sitting next to the person she’d been thinking about for months. She was sitting next to Spencer's girlfriend.

She was sitting next to her, she was.

She was going to meet Maeve before Spencer ever could.

She coughed and felt her throat tighten. It felt like she’d been screaming for hours, felt like someone had rubbed her insides on rough gravel.

She wouldn't be surprised if that had actually happened.

She coughed again, looking around the room, avoiding eye contact with the girl sitting next to her, she looked at the man who was sitting in a chair across from her, she took in the detail of his face, his black eye, the cut under his lip. He looked to be asleep. She had heard about him back at the office, she was glad he was alive.

She was glad Diane hadn't killed anyone yet.

She surveyed her surroundings, looked for ways to escape, but found nothing but a covered up window and three people.

She coughed again, trying to get the tickle out of her throat.

“Are you alright?” asked the girl next to her.

That voice. It was soft and sweet and caring.

That voice.

It was the one Spencer had fallen in love with.

She paused, felt her heart catch, felt her mind stop. Before this, she’d been planning to avoid ever meeting her, avoid telling anyone how she really felt, she was going to avoid the truth, and the truth involved the girl sitting next to her, so she’d been planning to avoid her.

That plan wasn't looking up.

She turned to look at her, finally turned to see the girl that had caught Spencer's attention, turned to look into the eyes of the person she’d been competing against in her mind for months.

She was beautiful.

It was that simple.

“Yes, I’m-” she paused to cough again, the words, and the person in front of her, taking her breath away. “I’m fine.”

Maeve just stared at her. She looked confused.

Y/N knew she was probably exactly like Spencer. She was probably surveying Y/N’s body language, and her symptoms, probably trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with her, how hurt she was.

Just like Spencer.

She chose to ignore the fact that she already knew everything about the girl sitting in front of her.

“You’re Maeve.”

The girl sitting next to Y/N looked shocked.

“How did you know that?”

“I’m Spencer’s friend.”

There was a noise from the corner of the room. Both of them turned to look at it, stopping their conversation immediately. It was silent for a minute, and when there was nothing else, they both turned back to each other.

“Which one?” Maeve asked.

Y/N who was staring at the zip tie around her ankles, trying to figure out if she cut and burn it off, looked up.

“What?” she asked.

“Which one of Spencer's friends?” Maeve asked again, less insistent this time.

“I’m Y/N.,” she said, looking away from Maeve over to the man sitting next to her, still asleep. She briefly wondered if maybe he wasn't actually alive, but quickly lost that thought when she saw his chest rise and fall.

“Why are you here?” Maeve asked, just for a moment, reminding Y/N of Spencer.

Always so curious. Always in the need to know.

She was about to answer when there was another bang, another bang, and then a door opening.

Both Maeve and her stared at it terrified, waiting to see who would walk through, if there would be another victim if they were going to have to meet someone else?

When just Diane walked through the door, they both sighed in relief.

Y/N watched her sister walk over to them, watched her examine the zip ties that were keeping them there, watched her smile just slightly.

She hadn't seen her in so long.

Diane looked up at her and watched her staring. Her smile only grew wider, only got more and more threatening.

Standing up she placed a finger under Y/N’s chin, lifting her head and forcing her to look at her.

“Are you ready to have some fun?” she asked.

And then they were all awake.

“Spencer!”

Y/N had watched him storm out, had seen the anger, the frustration on his face. She wasn't going to let him walk off to be killed.

He was a victim too.

He’d walked out of the building, out of the place where all of his team members were working to find his girlfriend, he’d ran out of there and came outside.

Y/N had been lucky to catch up to him.

“Spencer! Where are you going?”

Spencer stopped and turned around. His face was desperate, and his eyes were hard. He looked like a complete stranger. One Y/N had never seen before.

“I had to-” he waved his arms angrily towards the building “I had to get out.” He said, sighing and looking down at her.

She could feel the pain bouncing off from him to her, she could see the wanting, the needing in his eyes, and she had no idea what to do.

“Spence,” she said, trying to get his eyes to relax, to get him to calm down even just a little so he could help. “It's going to be alright.”

He scoffed at her, furious and disbelieving. “How can you just say that Y/N!? Maeve has been kidnapped. She's gone!”

“Spencer I know and we’re-”

“We aren't doing anything! Her life is worth more than a bunch of people sitting around a conference table and talking about her!”

He threw his hands up and turned away from her, there was heat in his tone and anger radiating through his body.

Y/N wondered what he was going through, she wondered how she would feel if he- if someone she loved had gotten kidnapped. She wondered how she would deal with her emotions, she wondered if he could really help them, or if he was too involved.

“Spencer. We are good at our jobs.” she enunciated every word, trying to get them through his head. “We know what we’re doing.”

He sighed and looked down at the ground, yelling at her had gotten some of his anger out, but he was still desperate, still so desperate to find her, to know where she was, to do something other than sitting around and just remember all the things he loved about her.

“I know Y/N. But- I just, I need her. I need to see her.”

The words ripped out the stitches in Y/N’s heart one by one, tore her apart slowly. She wondered when the anesthesia would kick in.

“I know Spencer, I get it-”

“No you don't!” he said, his anger back, hot and flashing. “You don't understand Y/N! You haven't ever loved someone like I love Maeve, no one has! You don't know you just don't!” He looked at her, he looked at her differently than he’d ever looked at her.

Like he was disappointed.

And he walked away, not wanting to hear anything else she had to say, just wanting an update, anything that would prove to him that she was okay.

And Y/N felt so crushed, felt so disappointed, but so so frustrated.

How did she prove to him, how did she show him, how did she help him.

She threw her hands up and groaned, needing a moment to feel nothing but the emotions she’d been holding in.

And then it all went black.

Bobby was dead.

Bobby was dead and Diane had killed him.

Bobby was dead and her sister had killed him.

There was nothing but terror.

Surrounded the two of them, the two of them that were left.

Diane was terror, she inhabited the emotion, she displayed the properties, she terrified them to no end.

When would it end?

When would Spencer show up, when would they finally find them, when would someone come and break them out of the prison of terror they were locked in, the prison that was keeping them hostage was keeping them stuck. Stuck in four walls, stuck next to terror herself, stuck in place not able to move.

Y/N couldn't move.

She wondered when it would be over.

She looked at Maeve, stared at her, observed her watching Bobby’s dead body. She watched her face fall and her muscles tense up and she watched as her eyes darted back and forth and looked around the room, she watched as her eyes became terrified while looking at Diane.

She knew everything now.

She knew how Spencer felt about her, she knew how Maeve felt about him, she knew about the man Maeve had abandoned and replaced with Spencer.

She wanted to hate her.

She wasn't supposed to hate her.

She couldn't hate her, couldn't hate someone that made Spencer so happy, made him happier than Y/N had ever seen, no matter how much Maeve broken Y/N to pieces, tore her apart at the mere thought, no matter how much just saying Maeve’s name hurt her, she couldn't hate her.

She wanted to.

She was trying to remove her emotions, trying not to focus on that, because it wasn't the most important thing, it wasn't important at all.

There were many more important things happening.

Her sister had just killed someone. Her sister had shot a man in the head, had stared at her while she did it. That was important. That was terrifying.

She was terrified.

“What are you doing Diane? Why are you doing this?” She asked she asked as she stared shocked at her sister, at the little girl who used to be so happy, she stared at and tried to remember the last time she had seen her smile.

She didn't like the way she was smiling now.

And then she stopped smiling.

“Why am I doing this?” she scoffed, laughing at the question. “You took something from me! You both did.” she turned to glare at Maeve. Then she turned back to Y/N and laughed again. “Aren't you just the perfect daughter? The smartest, the prettiest, an FBI agent even!” she laughed and paced around her. “You’ve always been better than me. Always one step ahead of me. And I’m not going to let you have the upper hand anymore.”

She walked to the other side of the room and Y/N looked over to see Maeve watching her, studying her.

She looked away. Terror filled her body. She had to do something.

“Diane!” she yelled, hurting her voice even more. “You don't have to kill anyone. That's not going to make you happy,” she said, softer now, talking to her just like a big sister, just like she always had.

It only made Diane even madder.

“It made Mom and Dad happy!” Y/N winced, thinking about the theories her sister had come up with after their suicide, she thought about Diane had refused to believe it, refused to believe anything but the ideas she had conjured up in her mind.

Y/N had been terrible to her then.

“I’m sick of you acting like you know better than me,” Diane said, smiling again.

And then, for the third time that day, it all went dark.

Y/N was gone.

That much was clear.

Spencer had no idea where she went, no idea what had happened after he left her outside, no clue where she could’ve gone.

He didn't know anything.

And he couldn't think, he just couldn't think enough to figure it out. He wished he knew something, wished he knew anything, wished he could just think.

There was nothing.

Just overwhelming thoughts and bile running up his throat.

It hadn't taken the rest of the team long to figure it out, hadn't taken them long to wonder where she might have gone, to wonder what had happened to her. While Spencer was dreaming of a perfect world where none of this was happening, the rest of the team were frantically trying to get a hold of Y/N.

She wouldn't have gone off by herself, she was smart enough to know that was a sure way to get someone else in trouble, and she wouldn't have taken off on a lead without telling anyone. She would’ve told someone if she was going somewhere. She just would’ve.

She was gone.

It was simple.

JJ called her, she called her cell over and over, listening to Rossi and Hotch theorize over their unsub, she called and she called.

There was no answer.

Derek tried next, he tried to ask Spencer, but came up with nothing except a broken genius who was lost in the cycle of desperation. He tried to call her, but only got her voicemail. Over and over.

She still wasn't answering.

Garcia was the last, Garcia was the last to try. She called her cell, and when Y/N didn't answer, she tried tracking it, refusing to let Y/N ignore her. She typed and she typed.

There was nothing.

It wasn't until Garcia rushed into the conference room, ran as fast as she could to her family, it wasn't until she barged in the room out of breath, it wasn't until then Spencer woke up.

Y/N was gone.

“Diane! They killed themselves! They couldn't deal with us, they couldn't deal with anything! Stop with your stupid fucking theories. They’re dead. It's simple. Just stop.”

She was terrified.

She was terrified as she woke up, as she groggily heard Maeve ask for it all to be over. She was terrified as she opened her eyes to look at her, to stare at the girl, to beg her to stop talking. She was terrified as she watched Diane take Maeve, as she watched her drag the girl out of the room, as she dragged her away and left Y/N all alone. She was terrified as she heard nothing, thought of nothing except for the girl that her sister had taken.

Where did they go, where did they go?

Diane wouldn't kill her. She wouldn't kill her right now. If she wanted to get Spencer's attention she would need her, Y/N thought, she thought and she rationalized with herself and tried to remember that Diane still needed Maeve.

Diane wouldn't kill anyone she wouldn't kill anyone, this wasn't her sister, she wouldn't kill anyone.

Maeve would be fine.

They would all be fine.

She was terrified.

She was terrified as she watched Diane drag Maeve back to her chair as she forced her to sit down.

She was terrified as she yelled at both of them. “What's going on? What happened?!?” when no one answered she felt her blood boil. “What's going on!?”

Neither of them said anything. Diane went to go grab something.

Y/N stared at Maeve, begged her with her eyes, and she was met with a quiet “shh” and nothing else.

She felt like a child, she felt like they were both hiding something from her, she felt like she was the dumbest person in the room.

She couldn't tell that she was having a panic attack, couldn't recognize the symptoms she had seen so many times on so many different people. She couldn't tell that she was hyperventilating, that her head was filling with air, that her body was pounding and she was shaking. She didn't realize what was happening.

She could only panic in her terror infused body.

And then Diane came back, she came back holding a phone and Y/N still had no idea what was going on, still didn't know what was happening, still didn't know why she felt like she was about to pass out, she had no idea what was wrong with her, what was wrong with her.

And then Diane went over to Maeve, she went over and held the gun to her head, and whispered something in her ear.

Maeve started to dial on the phone.

And then it was silent, it was silent for a moment, just a moment with the dial tone ringing out, the dial tone and then

“Hello?”

Spencer.

Spencer Spencer Spencer Spencer.

Y/N sobbed out his name.

What was wrong with her, what was wrong with her.

Diane looked at her angrily, motioned for her to stop crying, came over to her, and whispered that she was a child in Y/N’s ear.

And she couldn't stop crying.

What was wrong with her?

And then Diane groaned, she groaned and Y/N could feel her move from behind her, she could feel Maeve staring at her, could feel all of it, could feel all the terror rushing up to her brain, pounding in her chest.

And she still didn't know why she was acting like this.

She heard a soft voice, a quiet question

“Are you guys okay?”

She heard Spencer.

And then Diane hit her in the head again.

And it was darkness.

She woke up to Spencer's voice. She woke up to him walking in the room.

She woke up to,

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

She looked up. She opened her eyes and looked up faster than she’d ever imagined herself doing.

Spencer was here, why was Spencer here, he shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be alone.

Where was his vest, where was his vest?

He didn't have his gun on him.

It took her only ten seconds to realize both of these things, it took her only ten seconds to realize he was giving himself up so that Maeve would live, that he was giving himself up.

It only took ten seconds for her heart to start racing, for her head to start burning with the pain that was knowledge.

It took him ten seconds to breathe out a quiet “Hello?”.

Maeve was the first to talk. “Hi.”

And then it was quiet.

“Y/N?” he asked, and she was listening, she was listening to him, but it didn't sound like a question. It sounded like he needed something, it sounded like the voice he always used when he wanted to tell her something away from the team.

She had no idea what it meant.

So she quietly said “I’m here.” and she watched Diane frown at her. She watched her sister glare over at her, and she didn't say anything. She took that as a warning.

She watched as Diane ran her hands over Spencer, she watched as he winced, as Maeve winced, but she was still watching.

She hated watching.

Diane was smirking, she was blissfully smirking as she ran her hands over his chest, and Y/N wasn't listening to her words, she was focused on Spencer on Maeve, she was focused on why he was alone.

She knew the rest of them were outside.

She reminded herself she’d been trained for this.

“It took me a long time. To be honest, I was distracted by your thesis.” she heard Spencer say, and she heard Maeve's breath catch.

She wondered if Maeve was feeling how she’d felt for months.

But she wasn't paying attention to that for long, because she noticed his hand moving, she noticed him moving his hand by his side, the hand that was closest to her.

She watched his hand.

She realized what was going on.

“You know sign language?” she’d asked, surprised that they shared that in common.

“When I was younger I used to read books on it. Hard to forget.” Spencer said, smiling as they both walked back to the car.

“Haha.“ she mock laughed, pushing him with her shoulder.

He just chuckled.

They both moved away from each other, opening their doors and getting into their cars.

Y/N had only been at the BAU for about six months. But she’d created a lifetime of friendships, she knew each and every one of her team members, she already felt like she’d been there for years with them.

She had a special relationship with Spencer. She admired him and looked up to him in a way.

“I guess it'll be our secret way of communication then,” she teased as they both buckled their seatbelts.

Spencer looked over to her, and he smiled, his dimples popping up on his face.

She wondered why he made her feel like this.

“I guess it will,” he said.

Years ago. Years ago they’d had a conversation about it.

He was using sign language.

He was telling her something.

She watched Diane move back surprised, her sister moved to the other side of Spencer so she could see his face. Y/N was still looking at his hands.

“You read my thesis?” Diane asked, shocked, almost proud.

“I did. You know, I think your writing puts you on the same plane as Jonas Salk. I’ve already sent it to the NIH.”

“Flattery is not going to get you out of this.”

Y/N wondered how Maeve was reacting, she wanted to check to make sure she was okay, to make sure nothing had happened to the girl that made her best friend so happy. She wanted to check and let Spencer know that she was fine, but she couldn't, she couldn't because she was still watching his hands.

Save. Save. Save.

“I’ve arranged for your freedom.” Spencer stopped moving his hands and Y/N caught back onto the conversation, she knew interrogation tactics, she knew how to get something out of someone, and she knew that what he had just said was a lie.

He would never let her just get away with what she’d done to Maeve.

His hands started moving again.

“The federal government doesn't make deals with people like me.”

“Not true. Nazi’s were recruited for the Manhatten project. Mafia bosses are regularly put into witness protection.” Spencer said, taking a deep breath. Y/N wished he could see her, wished he could see Maeve.

She hated the way his voice was shaking.

“If what you have is valuable enough, the federal government will work with you.” he continued, “And what you have is very valuable.”

Save her. Save her. Save her.

Maeve.

He was asking her to save Maeve.

“And what doctor do I have doctor?” Diane asked, and Y/N could hear the genuine curiosity in her voice, the hopeful dialect in her tone.

“You have a brain that doesn't play by normal societal rules.” Spencer swallowed. “And I know that all your life the people you care about the most keep leaving.”

People like Y/N. Y/N had left her sister, had called her crazy when she’d questioned their parent's death, had ignored her for years, had made her feel like she wasn't enough like she was crazy.

She was a terrible sister.

She was still terrified.

Save Maeve.

“There's a part of you that thinks it's because of that brain. Well, I'm here because I'm not going to leave you.I'm here because…” Spencer stopped, and Y/N could see where he was going, could feel the hinting in his voice, could feel it all. “I just... hope that I can get the chance.”

Diane gasped. Her sister gasped.

Y/N had to stop paying attention.

She had to stop listening, she couldn't bear to hear her sister so defenseless, so vulnerable, and she didn't want to hear Spencer, she didn't want to know how worried he was.

She had to figure out a way to get them out of there. She had to do what he’d asked, she had to help the person she loved the most, she had to help him save the person he loved the most.

Maeve.

She looked over to her, she saw the frown on her face, the slight jealousy in her eyes. She tried not to sigh at the way she remembered what that felt like.

She wasn't listening to them anymore.

She looked around the room, thought about where the rest of the team would be, thought about when they would decide to come in. Would it be soon, or would it be when they heard gunshots?

She’d been trained for this.

It would be when they heard gunshots. If they had trusted Spencer enough to let him go in alone, they would trust him enough to get them out safely.

There were two FBI agents in the building. They could get everyone out safely.

She’d been trained for this.

She was thinking, she was trying to figure out a way to get out of the zip ties that were holding her down, trying to figure out a way to get Maeve out of the building.

She didn't start paying attention until she saw Diane go over to Maeve.

Y/N could hear Spencer speaking but she wasn't paying attention to him, she was trying to figure out a way to get Maeve out of Diane's line of fire, trying to figure out a way to get out of the straps holding her down.

And then she did.

She dug at the zip ties, remembering all the information she’d learned about them, remembering how she’d been taught to break out of them, she looked at the wall behind her, and slowly started backing her chair towards it, not making a sound.

She was watching Diane move around, watching Spencer talk, but she was focused on the wall, she was focused on the zip tie she felt loosening around her wrist. She was focused on the feeling of her feet digging against the straps.

And she heard a gunshot.

It was a gunshot.

And she knew.

She was almost out, she was almost out, she was almost out, she was almost out. Almost almost.

Save Maeve.

Her hands were loose and Spencer was fighting Maeve for the gun.

Her hands were moving to her ankles and she heard people storming in the room.

Her hands were undoing the zip ties and she saw Spencer get shot, she felt her heart fall, her mind raced, she felt her hands shaking, her hands shaking.

She had to save both of them.

Save her, save her.

She tried to loosen the other zip tie.

She heard Spencer talking, she looked up momentarily to see he was fine, he was just fine, she saw Maeve being held by Diane, and she saw the gun pointed at her skull.

Save her, save her, save her.

She saw the terror in Spencer's eyes.

She finally understood.

She was rushing to get the other zip tie off, but it wouldn't come off, it just wouldn't come off and Spencer was still talking, he was still talking, and the zip tie was still on and she needed to save her she needed to she needed to.

Save her.

And then she heard.

“Thomas Merton.”

And she thought back, remembered the name, remembered the book Spencer had been carrying around for weeks, had been taking with him everywhere, had been re-reading over and over.

And she looked at Maeve, she looked at Spencer, she saw the fear, the terror in both of their faces, she saw it in Maeve’s body language.

No. No. No.

Maeve was giving up.

No.

Save her.

She struggled with the zip tie.

She heard Diane yell at Spencer.

Get it off. Don't give up.

Save her.

“He's the one thing you can never take from us.”

Save her.

Don't give up don't give up.

She got it off, she got it off and she struggled to stand back up, she struggled to get back up, struggled to stay on her feet.

She was too late.

She heard a distant “No.” from her sister.

She looked up.

“Wait!”

She was too late she was too late she was too late.

Save her.

A gunshot rang in the air.

She was too late.

Spencer sobbed.

Diane and Maeve laid on the ground in a pool of blood.

She was too late.

It was silent, it was silent.

Save her. Save her. Save her. Save her.

She screamed.

She screamed and cried out, stumbling over to the both of them, stumbling over to Maeve, the girl who was loved and to Diane, her sister.

She was her sister.

Her sister was dead.

She was too late.

“No.” she gasped out. She gasped and she was panicking, and she looked up and Spencer was sobbing, and everyone else was staring. “No!” she screamed, because this wasn't happening, she wasn't too late, this wasn't happening this wasn't it wasn't happening.

She started hyperventilating, she started screaming, gasping out words, and looking up at everyone.

And Spencer was crying he was crying, and why why.

And he was staring at her.

“No! I’m sorry!” she screamed, her voice coming out in a distant shriek, she was gasping and she was looking at the two dead bodies on the ground she was watching them, she was waiting for them to move.

Save her.

And someone was grabbing her, and someone was grabbing Spencer, and she screamed, and she looked, and Spencer was walking away.

“No! No! No!” she screamed again, trying to shake out of the grip of whoever was holding her. “Spencer no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

And he was gone, he was gone he was gone. She was too late

She was gone.

She was.

Save her save her save her.

She was too late.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

This was all her fault.

Later at the hospital, she learned she’d been drugged.

By her sister.

She didn't need to know.

She had a concussion and a broken rib.

JJ and Garcia stayed with her. They explained to her what had happened while she was gone, explained to her how they saw Diane kidnapping her on building security cameras, explained how they’d learned about her sister, learned about her having a sister. They both said they were shocked. They explained the deal Spencer had made, explained what had happened while she was passed out.

She couldn't feel anything.

She was taking in the information, she was processing all of it.

She couldn't feel a thing.

At the crime scene, she’d been given a sedative, that she’d been having a shock attack and she wouldn't stop.

They explained to her that she could take a couple of days off of work. That she didn't have to get back immediately, that they would leave her police report for later, that none of it matters now. The only thing that mattered was her getting better.

She just stared at them.

And before they left she asked one question, “Hows Spencer?”

The looks on both of her friends' faces had been enough to answer.

She didn't say anything else.

She stopped talking for two weeks.

***

She hadn't talked to Spencer in a month.

It had been a month of solitude, a month of not talking to anybody, a month of spending every day in her house alone, a month of not talking to him.

It was her fault.

She called him every day. She called him, and she left him messages, and she talked to him and asked him how he was and called and called.

And he never answered.

She’d gone to his apartment a couple of times, just in the beginning, just to make sure he was okay. She never said anything when she went, just knocked on the door and waited for an answer, and then she slid a letter under his door and walked around all the gift baskets on his doorstep, and left.

She’d stopped doing that as soon as she’d heard he’d gone back to work.

Penelope had been texting her. Had been calling her at odd times of night, had kept her updated on everything that was happening.

She still hadn't talked to anyone.

Still hadn't said a word to anyone else.

After leaving the hospital she was drained, of energy, of hope, of motivation. She locked herself inside and she didn't talk to anyone, she didn't say a word to anyone.

Except for Spencer.

She wrote him letters and dropped them off at his door.

But she didn't talk out loud.

After two weeks she’d decided to check her text messages.

She read messages about how much everyone loved her, read messages about everything that had happened with the team while she was gone, read messages about how she didn't have to come back until she was ready, that they understood how painful it was to have a family member die.

She wished she could explain to them that that wasn't it.

She wished she could explain that she had mourned the loss of Diane a long time ago, that she hadn't had a sister since her parents had died, she wished she could explain how she’d always felt like Diane had died with her parents.

She hoped her sister was happy now. Wherever she was.

But that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that she had failed Spencer.

The problem was that she was so in love with Spencer, that she felt like she was falling apart because she hadn't talked to him, the problem was that he didn't know, that she loved him so much it made her heart fall apart, and she hadn't been able to do the one thing he’d asked.

Save her.

The problem was that she loved him.

Save her.

So she didn't answer any of them. None of the messages, none of the calls.

She hoped every day she would get a message from him, she hoped that when he finally talked to her, when he finally said something, she would find the words that seemed to be lost in her mind.

He didn't answer.

It’d been a month.

She only talked to herself.

Only repeated the messages that her mind was sending her, only voiced the words out loud so she knew she could still talk, that she still remembered how to talk.

She listened to Penelope explain to her everything, listened, and listened.

Never said a thing.

Everyone was starting to get worried, and when they were worried about her, they asked Spencer. Spencer who didn't know a thing, Spencer who just shrugged his shoulders and got back to work.

He was working too much, Penelope said.

Hotch messaged her asking her when she was coming back to work, hoping that she would at least answer that.

She didn't.

Derek messaged her asking about a case, he figured that if that had worked with Spencer, it would work with her too.

It didn't.

Rossi sent her personalized messages. Pictures of him making pasta, pictures with the team, pictures of dogs because he knew she loved them. He always started his messages with “Kiddo,” hoping it would make her smile.

She didn't answer him either.

JJ texted her about Spencer, told her that she understood, told her that she was always there for her.

Nothing.

Blake, who she hadn't known long, she messaged her about old literature, something they had talked about before everything had happened. She never said anything about her being gone, never told her that she should come back.

Left her on read.

And Penelope called her, called her and told her everything, talked to her about grieving families, and the horoscopes in the magazine she was reading.

Y/N listened to that.

She always smiled for Penelope.

And Spencer.

Y/N was always texting Spencer, was always sending him letters through the mail, leaving her house just for him.

He didn't answer.

For a month.

And when he did, when she finally saw a voicemail from him, finally woke up to something new, finally felt her heart come alive, her brain start running, felt herself wake up for the first time in forever, when she finally saw the message he had left just for her, when she saw it, she fell apart all over again.

“Please stop calling. I don't have anything to say.”

Two sentences, not enough words, barely anything.

And she was laying on the floor, she was lying there in pieces listening to his voice over and over again, she was on the brink of falling asleep, falling asleep and never waking up, because he had answered her because she had finally felt like she dared to speak when she saw his message because they had finally made a breakthrough.

And she wasn't going to speak ever again.

The words had fallen with the pieces, and her voice had been taken by the disappointment that ran through her body, the disappointment in Spencer's voice.

She had no idea how to pick herself up.

No idea how to get up off of the floor and move, and breathe, and speak and do anything.

He didn't have anything to say to her.

She had failed him.

She had failed.

It was all her fault.

She had to leave.

Before she left.

Before she opened the door to leave it all.

Before it was all over.

She left a voicemail.

“Spencer. I know- I know you said to stop calling. And I will- and I am. I will. I promise. If that's what you want, I’ll do it. But I have to- I have to apologize. I have to leave you with a message. I’m so sorry Spencer. I know how much you loved her. I know how important she was to you. If I could do anything to take her place I would. Just to see you happy Spence. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I am. I’m um I’m leaving you with this message. And I won't bother you again- I promise you won't hear from me again. I’m leaving Spence. But I had to say that before I did. I have just one more thing, um, just uh. One more thing. I promise. I have to tell you I understand. Because I do. I understand. I know how it feels to lose someone you love- I mean I… I lost you Spence... So. I know. That's um. That’s it. I’m going. It’ll be okay…. I hope. For both of us. Bye Spencer. I love you.”

And then the dial tone.

***

Two years.

It had been two years since she’d left.

Since she’d put in her letter of resignation, since she’d transferred to the New York office.

It had been two years of keeping in touch with Penelope, two years of working with a completely new team in a completely different unit.

It was a new start.

It was good.

***

Spencer had been listening to it every day.

He had never deleted it.

He just couldn't.

He wasn't over the shock that had come with listening to it, never gotten over the exhaustion in her voice, never got over the stumbling, the nerves, never gotten over any of it.

So he didn't delete. And he told himself he wouldn't until he was over it until he could finally think of it and feel nothing.

She had said goodbye to him.

Just him.

He had asked everyone, had asked if they’d all gotten a voice mail too if she had left a message for everyone.

She hadn't.

Everyone had been shocked when they found out she was gone. With the exception of Hotch. He knew from her resignation. But nobody else.

Except for Spencer.

And he’d never gotten over that.

And he’d never deleted it.

Two years ago, his mind had been filled with grief, every day was a constant cycle of Maeve, a constant cycle of missing her, of worrying about her, of the thought that he’d never gotten the opportunity to tell her he missed her.

And a year ago, that had started to fade.

He’d come to an acceptance. He’d accepted her death, knew that she was happy, wherever she was, she was happy. He knew that his love for her would never fade, but he also knew that she knew that.

He would never forget her.

But he would stop obsessing. Stop worrying about her every day, stop blaming himself for her death. He had managed to stop it all.

And another year went by.

But he wasn't able to delete the voicemail, the one souvenir he still had from her, from her. The girl that had said goodbye to him, the girl that he had blamed for so long.

He regretted that every day. He regretted never talking to her, never saying anything but that he didn't want her messages, he didn't want her pity. He regretted the guilt that he’d heard in her voice every time he listened to her message, he regretted the fact that he had never told her that it wasn't her that, that he was an idiot, but it wasn't her fault.

He’d never gotten the opportunity to tell her that.

And the message never left his brain.

The message was always there, sitting in his inbox, a memory that he couldn't forget, a memory that he wouldn't delete from his phone.

“I know how it feels to lose someone you love- I mean I… I lost you, Spence... “

It played in his head every day, on repeat.

He analyzed it, went through every word, and figured out what it meant, what she was trying to say to him.

After two years he knew exactly how she had felt when she’d sent it to him.

He spent a year denying it, denying the message that was clear in the words she was saying, in the words that repeated in his brain, over and over, in his mind, in the “I love you” she had told him she felt.

She had loved him.

She said she felt like she had lost him.

And he’d lost her.

Physically at least.

Sometimes he still felt like she was living in his brain, living with her in his mind reminding him of how much she meant to him. Of the love he had denied until he thought it was gone.

He didn't understand why he couldn't delete the message.

All he knew was that, before everything, before Maeve, before the grief, before it all, he had loved her. He had hidden love for her. He’d kept it a secret.

All he knew was that he thought it was gone.

He didn't understand why he couldn't delete the message if that was true.

He didn't love her. He… had gotten over it.

There were too many questions, too many things that Penelope couldn't answer for him, so many things he didn't know about her anymore, so many things that he wondered every day. So many things he wanted to say to her.

So many things he had to say to her.

So he knocked on the door.

And she opened it.

And she was there.

Finding her in New York was hard.

At first, he had tried to call her, tried to call her like she had tried to call him years ago. She had changed her number.

And then he’d asked Garcia. Asked her where he could find her, where she was. Garcia said she didn't know. That Y/N had asked her to keep it strictly to email. That she wasn't allowed to track her down.

And then he’d worked alone.

He’d used his years of experience, his years of tracking people down.

And google.

He’d used google.

It had only taken one search to find her. She was one of the most esteemed members of the FBI in New York. She had hundreds of articles written about the awards she had won, about the lives she’d saved, about the incredible work she did there.

Spencer felt his heart speed up at her picture.

She was doing amazing.

And then, after one glimpse of her, one moment of looking into her eyes across a screen, after one glance.

He had to find her.

She was staring at him shocked.

It had been two years.

She’d suffered through working, and fighting her PTSD, and not blaming herself for everything she did, for every little thought she had. She’d suffered through the loss of all of her friends, of having to restart completely, all alone. She’d suffered through the grief she thought she didn't have for her sister and the memories that came with it. She’d had to deal with unreasonable amounts of pain and self-doubt. She’d suffered through it all.

It had been two years.

Spencer was standing on her doorstep.

He looked so different.

“Hi,” he said, awkwardly standing in front of her while she looked up at him, while she stared at him with wide eyes.

She let her jaw drop.

Spencer looked away from her eyes awkwardly, already overwhelmed with just her appearance.

“Who are you?” she asked, while she was still staring at him, looking him up and down. She couldn't believe it.

“Y/N. It's Spencer.”

She just shook her head.

And then she turned around to head back to the living room.

She hadn't been expecting anything like this. It was her weekend off, her weekend with no interruptions, her weekend with nothing. She was barely dressed, in just old sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt. She hadn't been expecting anything.

He was there. He was there and he looked so different, and he was there.

There had to be something wrong with her. She had fallen asleep. This was a dream. Pinch me, she thought.

Spencer took her walking away as a sign he could come in. While she walked to the living room, he stepped in and closed the door quietly. He took a moment to take off his shoes before following her.

She’d placed herself down on the couch. She sat there with her head in her hands. He stood in front of her and didn't say a word, wanting her to direct the conversation before he said anything.

She looked up.

“What are you doing, Spencer?”

He cleared his throat, surprised at her voice, “I um, I need to talk to you.”

She stared at him some more, in disbelief. What was he doing here?

“Spencer, it's been two years. I don't think there's anything left to say.” She sighed and looked away from him.

She didn't want to deal with this. It had been two years, she had picked herself up, she had started over again. She didn't need old memories, old failures to come back, she loved Spencer, she probably always would, but she didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to do any of it.

“We have to talk Y/N.” He insisted. Sitting down next to her.

She looked back at him, “Spence…”

“No. You just need to listen okay? I need to talk to you.” She was about to open her mouth and protest, tell him that he was crazy, but he looked at her, he just looked at her and she shut her mouth.

“Look, I blamed you for a long time…” she stared at him. “I did. I blamed you. But- you weren't- it wasn't your fault. It was never your fault.”

“Spencer, she died because I did get there quick enough. I think anyone would consider that my fault.”

This. This is what she didn't want to do. She didn't want to remember the death she had caused, the disappointment Spencer had felt in her, the failure she had been to him.

She had gotten the girl he loved killed.

“Y/N. No. No.” He said and he grabbed her hand.

She felt her heart skip a beat.

“You didn't do anything wrong. It was never your fault. I was stupid for blaming you, and I’m so sorry.”

“Spencer-”

“I listen to your voicemail. All the time.” He blurted out. Impatient with the situation.

“I… What?”

“Sorry. I know that was weird.” she laughed a little and he smiled. “It's just… the voicemail you left, I listen to it. So much. I can't- I can't stop thinking about it.”

She stared at him. Confused. Worried. She didn't want to think about that voicemail let alone talk about it. She didn't want to think about anything.

Why was he here?

“Did you mean it?”

She focused back on him, lost in thought. “Mean what?”

“You said you loved me.”

You said you loved me.

I love you.

I loved you.

“It was a while ago Spencer.”

He sighed and shook his head. “It was two years ago. Did you mean it?”

She looked at him shocked at how intrusive he was being. He looked the same- and so different -he sounded the same, but he was different. Spencer would’ve been too scared to ask her this two years ago. She wondered if he was scared now.

She felt her heart beating, beating at the memory of how much she loved him, of how devastated she’d been.

“Yes.” she paused, looking away from him. “I did.”

“Oh,” he replied, looking at the floor.

Spencer didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to explain to her, he didn't know how to explain to himself, this conversation had taken a turn he hadn't expected.

“It doesn't matter though.” Y/N said, breaking his train of thought.

“What?” he said looking back up at her.

She sighed. “Spencer, my sister killed the girl that you loved. I couldn't save the girl that you loved-”

“I told you that wasn't your fault-”

She continued “I couldn't do the one thing you asked me. I couldn't do it. I failed you. It doesn't matter if I loved you. It doesn't matter.”

She stood up, wiping her sweaty hands on her sweatpants and walking to the kitchen. She wanted to distract herself from the fact that the only person she had ever loved was sitting in her apartment.

“It matters to me,” Spencer said, standing up and following her to the kitchen.

“Spencer…” she said for what felt like the tenth time. She was tired of repeating it, tired of repeating the words, the truth, she had been trying to forget for so long.

“Y/N why wouldn't it matter to me? I haven't stopped thinking about you since you left. Since I heard that stupid voicemail.” he gestured with his hands, displaying the frustration he felt. “And I can't stop thinking about you.”

Two years ago, the words would’ve been perfect.

Two years ago, she would’ve swooned at the words leaving his lips, would’ve fainted that the possibility that he was thinking about her, thinking about her, and that he couldn't stop.

Two years ago was so different.

She almost wished she could go back.

She was so different.

“Spencer, that girl is gone. She's gone, her sister died, and she failed her best friend, she loved her best friend, and then he was gone too, and she left, she fell apart, she's gone.”

Spencer was silent, he was silent, and then he looked at her.

“It doesn't matter to me. When I saw your picture, when I looked at you on my computer screen, I loved her. I can't stop thinking about her. I don't care who you are, all I know is that you make my heart feel so much different than it ever has before. I can't stop thinking about you, I can't think about anything else.”

And his voice was warm, and he was desperate for her to believe the words, the words that had been running through his head since he’d first seen her. He amazed her just by being there.

Y/N didn't know what to say, she didn't know what to do, she didn't know what else she had to say, she didn't know whether to believe him or not, she didn't know what to say, didn't know what to say...

What should she say?

“Really?” she blurted out, her filter gone, her curious mind stuck on the words. The words she’d been dreaming of since she’d met him.

He always made her feel like she didn't have the words.

“Yes.” he insisted, walking towards her, and looking down. He smiled just for a second, smiled at how small he looked, smiled at the thought of all the amazing things she’d done since she’d been gone, smiled at how familiar she was to him. “I have missed you every day. Even before you left I missed you.”

And it was like two years ago. It was like she was still desperately in love with him, still stuck in his thoughts, in his voice, in the way he did everything. She felt like the younger version of herself, a completely different version, she felt like nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

“Spencer.” she choked out, the words, the feelings, getting caught in her throat. “Maeve died.”

And she felt disgusted by the sentence, she felt like she was nothing at just the two words she hadn't said to anyone but herself in two years, she was nothing, she didn't have the words, and she didn't have the strength, and maybe she hadn't picked herself up, because someone whole didn't feel like this.

And Spencer was standing there looking at her.

He frowned at the tears in her eyes.

“I know,” he said, wiping her cheeks, and moving her chin up so that she would look at him. “I’ll miss her every day too. I love her. I think I always will.” Y/N closed her eyes, closed her eyes, and waited for the nightmare to end, she wanted it to be over already. “But.” and she opened them, and she looked at him. “I love you.”

Was she awake? Was she alive. This wasn't real this, he didn't, he hadn't, he wasnt., this wasn't real. Real things didn't feel like this.

Was she still falling apart?

“Spencer,” she said, all her other words laid out on the floor, too far away for her to reach.

“Y/N. I love you, and I know it's too late, I know it's been two years but- I love you, and I don't know how else to feel.” He laughed. “I’m a genius and I still don't know.”

She giggled a little bit. Through her tears.

And then she stopped.

And she looked into his eyes seriously.

“Spencer, it's been two years. And I’m still struggling, I still can't get through a day without-” the tears were in her eyes, and the feeling was in her chest, pricking at her heart, and she still couldn't stop thinking about what she could’ve done.

“Y/N.”

Spencer was staring at her, he was staring at her, and his eyes, god his eyes, just looking at them made her feel like she could be okay.

How could she ever be okay, how could she have ever been okay without him?

He was standing next to her.

“Y/N. I can leave, I can go, if this isn't what you want, I can leave.” He looked right into her eyes, became familiar with her face once again. It was insane that he had ever been able to stay away from her. “But I want to be here, I want to be with you no matter how many things you think are wrong with you. You were there for me when I was broken. If that's what you think you are,” he moved the hair out of her eyes “I’ll be there for you just the same.” and he smiled at her again. “But I don't think you’re broken.”

He didn't think she was broken, he didn't see anything wrong with her, he was going to be there, he was going to be there, he was going to.

“Or I can leave?” he said, his brows furrowed after she hadn't answered.

And she shook her head. Immediately. Hesitation was gone.

She didn't have the words she didn't have any of them; they were sprawled across the floor, but she could still feel how he always made her feel, she could still feel his love bursting through her chest, burying everything else under the strength of it.

“I love you, Spencer.”

And he laughed.

She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him laugh.

She couldn't remember any time in the last two years she had thought about him without remembering the tears in his eyes, the pain in his body.

He was in front of her.

“I love you too,” he said.

And she had a new image. He didn't believe she had failed him, he believed he loved her. He had just said he loved her.

“I’m still in pieces Spencer,” she warned, she was going to give him one more way out, one more opportunity to leave.

She still didn't want to believe this was happening.

“Y/N. You can be in pieces and still love me,” he said softly, right in her ear.

And she was going to let herself. She was going to let herself love him, for the first time, she wasn't going to think about it, she wasn't going to think about anything except his hands on her waist, and the feeling in her chest she hadn't felt in so long.

She hadn't felt like this in so long.

And the words, the ones she’d been searching for since that night, the words she’d always imagined Spencer giving to her, those words,

They were there.

He handed them to her.

They were simple.

“I love you.”

my masterlist here

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saby-chan · 3 years ago

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Why the ATLA comics fail when it comes to Zuko and his family

To whom ever took their time to actually stop and read this post, thank you in advance for not skipping my post and willing to stay and read my humble opinion! I hope I won’t disappoint you!

As a relatively newcomer to the ATLA fanbase since 2020, I’ve come across a lot of interesting debates, comments and rants about the show, characters and fandom in general, but nothing has captivated me as much as the dumpster-on-fire that are the ATLA comics, more specifically: The Promise and The Search.

On one hand we have the hardcore fans who want them to be animated or serialized into the Netflix live action, praising the comics for the new views and subject matters they’ve brought into the show’s lore, while on the other hand we have the furious Azula fandom who is really angry for the fact that best girl didn’t get the redemption arc she rightfully deserved so much after the painful event that was the Last Agni Kai and the even more angry fans of the Urzai ship (yeah, the people who actually ship Zuko’s parents unironically) who hated the retconning of the show’s cannon since the comics basically took a huge fat dump on what was previously established as official cannon, when the Search entered the scene, but between these two sides, who has the more valid point? In the end, are the comics good cannon or bad written fanfiction?

Well... Here are my two cents on this matter since I myself happen to be an Azula and Zuko fan and had huge expectations from these comics (since I wanted more from my fave hot-headed fiery siblings duo) but ended up disappointed: the comics are indeed a huge mess and actually bad written fanfiction when it comes to Zuko and his family! Don’t click off yet, because I actually documented the reasons why exactly the comics fail in this area:

1. The author of these comics is not part of the BryKe duo

Yes, I would like to start with the fact that if you actually take a second to look up who in the heck took the time to write these two books, you won’t find Bryan, nor Mike, but a fellow man named Gene Yang. This is important because while the wiki of both The Promise and The Search state BryKe as the creators, that doesn’t mean that they were the actual minds behind these comics, but rather because ATLA is their “baby” and these comics involve their characters, over which they have copyright. Mr. Yang here is the actual brain behind the plot, as the main writer, which explains why we find huuuuge inconsistencies between the show lore and the comics, especially Zuko wise.

My main issue with Mr. Yang isn’t that he isn’t BryKe specifically, but because he did an unforgivable mistake in his writing process: He projected himself into Zuko’s character, based on the relationship Zuko had with his father. This is a documented fact from an interview in which he explains that he sees himself and his dad’s relationship into Zuko and Ozai and used that when writing their interactions and built Zuko’s character in the comics. And this is wrong because when you have an already very developed and complex character such as Zuko, you can’t just come in and be like “Oh, I was an angsty teen just like him in my teenage years, fighting with my dad and whatnot, so he must have the same thought process as me!”. NO! This is bad fanfiction writer behavior! Zuko has his own personality and philosophy, which he developed over the course of 3 seasons and is not defined by only 1 unfortunate aspect of his past, so you can’t just base his whole mindset and actions off of your own personal experience just because you had the same daddy issues he had!

2. The whole “Promise that you will kill me if I turn out like my dad!” nonsense in The Promise

Reason number 2 why these comics fail and go under the category of “bad fanfiction” is because they fail to convey the core essence of the source material. The whole point of Zuko’s redemption was that he realized the wrongdoings of his ancestors and his own mistakes. He outgrew his desire of gaining his father’s acknowledgement in favor of choosing his own destiny. Having him worry that he’ll turn into his father is utter nonsense and feels like poor angsty drama material for the sake of angst. At this point in time, Zuko has overcame that obstacle in his life a long time ago and should be at the level where he himself is the “Uncle Iroh” for other people and in no way someone concerned of becoming their own worst enemy!

Not only that, but the whole point of Aang’s journey and the story of the show as a whole was to teach us, the viewers, the importance of forgiveness, empathy and love in life. Aang didn’t spare Ozai, aka “the ultimate evil” just to flex in front of his pals or because he is a “ 12 y/o vegan pacifist monk kid”, but because he knew that killing someone, no matter of what they did or wanted to do, wouldn’t restore balance into the Universe, on the contrary, him killing the villain would have meant perpetuating the “endless cycle of hate” that plagued the world. So having Aang promise to kill his best friend in case “they turned into an evil maniac like their dad” contradicts Aang’s whole character and it’s a nonsense that throws into the trash what we’ve learnt throughout the entire TV series.

3. Azula deserved (and was supposed) to have a redemption ark

This might still be pure speculation, but I count it as a documented reason because I’ve heard quite a few people saying that there should’ve been a book 4 in the show, aka “Book 4: Air”, and no, it wasn’t The Search, but actually Zuko and Azula’s journey as Zuko helps his younger sister heal her broken mind by being her very own “Uncle Iroh”. Sure, they prolly were going to end up looking for Ursa, but the journey should’ve ended with them actually being happy and a family again and not the bs we got in The Search where a still very unstable Azula runs away and becomes the “Next Joker”! The only problem is that M. Night had to pop up and curse the world with his movie, which forced BryKe to delay the project (and eventually abandoned it in favor of Korra).

All in all, either if BryKe had this preplanned or not, it made sense for Azula to get a redemption ark, she deserved it because she was just a broken 14 y/o child! If Katara’s mom’s murderer deserved to be forgiven, so did this poor child who had no fault for what happened to her since she had a dysfunctional family! What Gene Yang did in his poorly written fanfiction was to just antagonize a broken child, turning her into a monster for the sake of friggin angst!

4. The Search is the worst of the two, being flat af character wise

And finally, getting to the point that I personally find the most annoying about these comics: The Search. This one... This one is a mess on a hella lot many levels, and just to list a few: characters are flat as fudge, being either black as vanta black (like Ozai and Azula) or pure white like Gene’s Gary Stue OC, Mr Ikem (or how I like to call him, IKEA man) and his ‘victim’ rendition of Ursa, Azula gets to suffer more for no reason (see reason number 3 to why I find this as a no no), Ursa’s whole character sucks ass (man, I could write a whole thesis on why Yang’s version of her is terrible and doesn’t match the strong woman we got in the show) and Zuko does morally wrong stuff (my man literally used his unstable sister to bribe their dad into spitting info about Ursa... Show Zuko would never do that!;-;)

Oh boy, as a person who’s seen a ton of anime and other media and read many books, I can’t begin on how much I despise this type of writing: flat characters are the worst!

ATLA characters in the show are nothing close to being flat! What I mean by that is that none of them fall perfectly into pure white (aka goodest of good characters with no imperfections) or vanta black (aka lowest and darkest twisted monsters out there), each of them are various shades of grey (like Aang who is a very light grey because despite being a very kind and nice character, he still isn’t a “perfect hero” since he ran away from his duties, practiced tax fraud with Toph, had insecurities and even threatened to kill people on ocassions like with the sand benders who took Appa) and this is a good choice because that prevents them from becoming what’s globally known as Mary Sues and Gary Stues (aka those either “perfect” characters with no flaws and/or unlimited power, or the twisted monsters full of flaws).

And the other reason why many other people hate The Search: it literally negates previously established cannon. And here comes my short essay on why this comic fails Zuko’s family (since we’ve already talked enough about Zuko himself).

In cannon and even interviews with BryKe, it was clearly stated that Zuko’s family was “once happy”. Where is this “once happy” family in The Search? All I see is pain, deception, lies and betrayal, nothing close to anything that resembles happiness. Okay, some of you might come in and say that “It’s because it was never the case! It was only lies and Zuko trying to convince himself that he didn’t live in hell forever!” and here is WHERE YOU WERE ALL WRONG! And why? Because, my dear fella, where were depicted the flashbacks of Zuko’s “happy family” in The Beach? Ember Island. And what do we know and had been even quoted in the show? "Like waves washing away the footprints on the sand, Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate. Ember Island reveals the true you." (direct quote from the show). Exactly, no matter who you are or how hard you try, you can’t hide your true self when you are on the Ember Island, best example being Azula, who’s impenetrable though shell cracked and revealed the true vulnerable child that was underneath. If Azula couldn’t resist the “spell of the island”, no one can. So this means that Zuko’s family was indeed happy once and yes, Ozai wasn’t always the douchebag we got to know in Season 3 (I have a whole nother essay on my theories regarding what could be his real past story and why he’s actually the “Zuko” of his generation, based on stuff I gathered from old wiki entries and character analyses I made, but that’s for another time, lemme know if ya’ll are interested).

And what I guess is the biggest proof why The Search did this family’s past trash is comics Ursa herself. My dude, if this woman were indeed the victim of years of endless abuse and never loved her husband, I guarantee you that she would’ve been closer to what we saw in Todoroki’s mom from BNHA and Zuko would’ve gotten that scar or even worse long before the Agni Kai, not from his “daddy dearest”, but from “mommy dearest” herself, because no sane woman would be soo affectionate and attached to a child that’s the perfect copy of their abuser, sepecially appearance wise (again see Todoroki’s mom’s case from BNHA because the stories are really similar) and in no way would’ve she been willing to sacrifice her life for said child’s sake. With this ocassion, I remind ya’ll folks that according to the ancient ATLA cannon wikis on Nick’s site, Ozai was designed with Zuko’s appearance in mind, being meant to be like a “grown up scarless version” of Zuko. So yeah, remember this with a grain of salt that whenever you simp over grown up Zuko, you involuntary simp for Ozai too.

So yeah, I guess this kinda concludes my “not so short” rant about why the comics fail and are bad fanfiction. Lemme hear your thoughts in the comments and if you agree, feel free to leave a like and even reblog.

Bye bye and remember that Momo is the true strongest character of the show!

Saby out.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #atla comics #zuko #azula #ozai #ursa #fire siblings #the promise #the search #atla rant

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hecksee · 4 years ago

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Stained Flowers

Hi this is angsty af but im struggling right now so imma project onto fictional characters

Sorry @lumosinlove I like making Leo suffer

this is my entry for the @hpbrokenhearts contest, i started out writing this when i was struggling, and tbh i still am, but it’s gotten a lot better.

Much thanks to the wonderful @iswearimnotanaestheticgirl for editing this monstrosity. You wrecked carnage on it, but it helped so much and I love this end result so much.

Thank you so much to @peggyrose19 and @marauderss-hp for looking this over and giving me suggestions!

This is probably inaccurate but I don’t know anything about hockey, and this is fanfic so who cares about the accuracy.

THIS COULD DEFINITELY BE TRIGGERING, PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

TW suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, its got a TINY bit of spice sprinkled in (i would rate this teen probably, mature if i was being extra safe), major character death, stress, homophobia, one sided pining, hanakhai, vomiting, something thats sort of like a suicide note, and a shit load of angst

Read on A03 here

Leo knew he was screwed the moment he saw Finn O'Hara on the screen for the first time. He knew he was gonna fall hard. It didn't matter that they had never met or that Leo’s attraction was purely physical. He knew that he would want everything with Finn.

But then Leo started to fall deeper and deeper over time, time that was spent mostly spent obsessing over Finn. Only a few weeks after Leo saw Finn for the first time, it started.

Everybody knew about hanahaki. When someone felt unrequited love, a seed sprouted in their lungs. Nobody knew how or why the seed appeared but it was inevitable.

The victim would start coughing up flower petals, and if their feelings grew, the flowers would grow larger until the victim couldn’t breath because their lungs were filled with nothing but blossoms.

There were only three things someone with hanahaki could do. The main solution was to surgically remove the flowers but have all feelings of love vanish. And some said it was impossible to ever love another person.

So Leo knew exactly what was going on when he started coughing up small yellow petals a few weeks after he first saw Finn on screen.

But, over the next few months he learned to recognize the signs. The tingling in the back of his throat before he started coughing up the silky yellow petals. The itch in his left lung when people mentioned Finn O'Hara. The stabbing pain toward the left of his chest when his teammates threw around homophobic slurs and comments like beads at Marti Gras is nothing new, but now it's accompanied with a burning sensation in his lungs and bloody daffodils.

The daffodils. The fucking daffodils. He decided to look the meaning of the cheery flowers up one day. Unrequited love. After that Leo laughed humorlessly, and decided that hanahaki had a fucked up sense of humor.

Somehow, Leo made it through a full year while coughing up a mixture of blood and petals. He learned how to hide it, how to excuse himself from a situation, and how to choke the petals back down while playing. He made sure that nothing would impact his career, no matter how much longer he had left.

Leo feared that his time was almost up some days. On those days, he wondered Why was he alive? Why did only the left lung sting? Wouldn't it just be better to end it than to live through the constant pain?

He almost made it through a year keeping his hanahaki a secret.

Well, almost. His mom walked in on him cleaning the daffodils smeared with red off the floor, and he had promptly broken down in tears.

He had ended up telling her everything, how he was gay, how he hated himself for it, how he sometimes thought it would be better to just end it all instead, who he loved and why.

His mom had made him tell his coach, insisting it was for the best. There had been a major fight between the coach and him. Leo was yelling and crying but standing his ground about how he needed to play. How playing was the only thing he was living for, damn it. Leo had ended up winning, so he kept playing. And just like before, he kept the hanahaki a secret from everyone, especially his team.

But then, he found out why only his left lung stung. Logan Tremblay. The latest player that was drafted to the Lions. He was newly minted, fresh from Harvard university. Short, broad, brunet, green eyed rookie Tremz.

As soon as Logan stepped out onto the ice for the first time Leo felt that telltale sting. But it was on the right side of his chest for the first time. Fuck, I'm not having unrequited love from one person, but from two?!

His right lung had irises. Royalty, the Fleur-De-Lis, France. Leo didn’t know how those things related to Logan but he could take a guess. Logan was French Canadian born and raised, that had to mean something.

Leo’s life went on. Now he had double the work of fighting the flowers down. Two names instead of one. Leo could tell there was something between Fish and Logan. The intense stares they gave each other across the rink meant something. The tension between them one day had just disappeared. Leo saw something as Logan's hot temper reared up whenever Harzy got into a fight or got hurt.

The signs grew. Rainbow tape on their sticks, posting LGBTQ+ supporting messages on the team Instagram; small things you’d need to look out for, or know exactly what they meant to know the significance.

The real confirmation was when the official Lions Instagram posted the picture of Logan and Finn kissing at a pride parade, smudged bi flags painted on both of their cheeks.

The caption read “We are aware of the homophobia in the league, however, two of our players aren’t willing to hide their relationship from the public anymore. Both Tremz and Harzy have our full support.”

The moment he saw it, the feeling of petals started to itch in the back of Leo’s throat, but he gagged them back as he scrolled through the comments. They were filled with the expected bigotry and homophobia with the occasional biphobic comment. Yet scattered in were the kind comments, full of support, rays of sunshine on a raining day.

Leo started typing out a comment of his own, telling the happy couple how happy he was for them. But the lie was rancid in his head. The flowers Leo had been choking back came up in a wave of blood.

Before Leo got hanahaki, the few dreams he had were filled with a faceless man. One that would kiss him and fuck him, but now, now there were two men. And they had faces.

Finn O'Hara and Logan Tremblay haunted Leo's dreams in the best way possible, more nights than not. Sweet soft kisses, hands tangled in auburn or brown hair, gently worshiping the hard planes and angles that came from a lifelong dedication to hockey were commonplace in Leo's dreams.

In stark contrast, some nights were filled with sloppy, urgent kisses, nails scratching on backs, and a pure need for release. But the dreams would always end, and Leo was left with the burning pain of self loathing building up in his throat before the flowers would make themselves known.

During this dream, Leo had been on fire all night, and it was thanks to him that the team had been led to victory. So here he was with his boyfriends, celebrating.

Leo leaned up to give Finn a soft kiss before turning onto his side and beginning to kiss Logan's neck. Finn had started to ruin Leo and didn't stop until Leo had hit the peak of his pleasure.

However, the aftermath of Leo's pleasure was slowly but surely turning into pain. Suddenly the metallic tang of blood was clogging his throat and the familiar smooth petals were filling his mouth.

The flowers and blood were dripping out of his mouth, and seeping into the white bed sheets. Even worse was that Finn and Logan seemed unsurprised. no, they were almost happy. Their gentle murmurings of praise turned into cold raucous laughter. In between the harsh laughter they told him how stupid he was, how he was a nobody, how they would never love him.

As the flowers only got worse, coming up in waves and mingled with the tears that were rolling down his face, Finn and Logan vanished. Then he was falling, falling, falling.

He woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, lungs gasping for air in between choking sobs; lying in a combination of petals and blood. His face was sticky with tears and warm, wet blood, and a few stray yellow and white-ish purple petals stuck to his skin. The only indicator that Leo's dream wasn't all bad was the stickiness in his underwear. But the worst part was that he was alone, stuck with only fantasies, once again.

The next day, Leo knew that practice would be bad. Even though yesterday his team was idolizing the Lions, they sure as hell wouldn’t be idolizing them right now. Practice was full of his teammates throwing around a myriad of slurs. The locker-room was even worse, where the coach wasn’t there to monitor their comments.

Leo fidgeted with his bracelet, uncomfortable with the comments that were flying around, with the flowers edging up his throat. He didn’t remember what happened next.

One minute Leo’s fidgeting with his bracelet, the next he’s yelling. Yelling about how people aren’t judged by their sexuality, how hell, maybe there even was a gay person in the room! To that he was obviously asked if he was the gay one, to which, he responded yes. Leo stormed out of the room to a soundtrack, suppressing the flowers fighting their way up his throat as soundtrack of cruel laughter and biting words rang around the room, just like the ones in his dream.

The next day he dreaded going to practice. He knows he won’t be welcome on the team anymore, so what’s the point of going?

Leo ended up just texting his old coach that he was resigning. His team broadcasted the fact that he’s gay on their Instagram. Now Leo’s the target of the myriad of hate that Finn and Leo faced. It made him sick to his stomach. Seconds later, he was puking into the toilet. No flowers this time, but still unpleasant.

He still walked with dragging steps to the rink and practiced, of course. He didn’t want to lose his skills when he attempts to go pro. Trying to ignore the fact that he knows no one will take him now.

Out of the blue, three days after Leo outed himself, his phone rings shrilly. Marlene McKinnon. The Lions announcer. Why was she calling him?

Marlene asked him to play for the Lions because he had great potential. Leo hesitated. Did she not know that he was gay? He pensively inquired about his sexuality, how would that impact his place on the team?

To his surprise, Marlene told him it wouldn’t influence anything. Leo was shocked, but in the happy way. Then she asked if he had any health conditions. Just like the thing about his sexuality, Leo hesitated. Eventually he nodded and said yes.

It’s hanahaki, he told her in a slow voice, but it doesn’t impact my playing.

Fucking lie.

Marlene was silent for a moment but then put him on hold with some shaky words. 5 minutes later, she agrees to let him play, on the condition that his hanahaki doesn’t get worse, and if it does, he needs to have them removed. Leo agreed, and suddenly, Leo was going professional.

Sure, Leo was worried about becoming a Lion; his subjects of affection were there and they were in a happy relationship. But over time, and many, many practices filled with words thrown at O’Hara and Tremblay, he had learned to choke back the petals.

After a few months, the day came where Leo was leaving. With many tears, and a lot of goodbyes, Leo left for Gryffindor. After a couple long flights, and a short taxi ride, Leo stepped out of the car to Hogwarts.

Inside the rink, he was greeted with the signature smell of a hockey arena, he couldn’t quite describe it, but it was pleasant, and reminded Leo of home.

In a blink, he was bombarded with maroon and gold, hugs and welcoming words. When he turned his head from the excitement, he saw them. Finn and Logan, standing back with Pascal Dumais, who he was going to move in with.

After meeting everyone and flipping out while Finn and Logan give him a hug while swallowing down the familiar liquid and petals that up, Leo was informed that he won’t be living with the Dumais’ after all.

“You’ll be living with Finn and Logan, I hope that’s alright?”

Leo quickly excuses himself to the bathroom to let the mixture of flowers, blood, and bile out.

But Leo ended up moving in with Fish and Tremz. However over the weeks, he formed a close bond with both Finn and Logan. Of course, he became closer with the rest of the team, Loops especially. Hell, Leo has a feeling that Loops knows what it feels like to love someone who will never love him back.

But after Sirius and Loops get together, Leo knew that he’s the only one who will never get the privilege of having requited love.

Leo was glad that he had managed to keep it a secret from the team. Well, there were some people he had to tell. After all, Remus was the team medic. Remus was keeping it a secret from the team and the public. But Remus didn’t know who was triggering Leo’s love. The only people who knew were Leo and his mother.

Each practice where the two of them do anything lovey dovey, Leo needs to be excused while he chokes back the flowers that are bringing themselves up his throat. But his goalie face hadn't been developed over happy things, so he shoved his feelings back and forced himself to remain calm, pretending to support their relationship; which he did, of course he did, but Leo wished more than anything that he was there with them. Leo wishes he was there in between them, wishes he was the one holding hands with them, and sharing sweet soft kisses with them.

Hell, more than once in the time when Leo was with the Lions he considered ending it all. The thoughts weren’t new, no, he’d been struggling with them since he had realized he was gay. But now, with the objects of Leo’s affection so close yet so far, he didn’t know if it would be worth living.

But then one day, about three years after the hanahaki had started, Leo woke up with agonizing pain in his chest, like someone was squeezing a palm around his heart. He thought back. The aching had worsened every time he interacted Finn and Logan. Now the flowers were coming up almost every hour of every day. The tingling feeling is now always at the back of his mind. As soon as Leo thought about Finn and Logan he felt flowers coming up.

The flowers are accompanied with a burning pain instead of a small stab. All of the flowers are full blossoms, a few with stems and leaves. They’d be perfect and prim, beautiful, if they weren’t coated in enough blood to look like a murder scene.

This was it; this was one of his last days, if not his last.

With slow robotic steps, Leo stands up, taking some deep breaths. He fished a pen and a notebook from his cabinet, and started to write four letters.

The words to his family tell them how sorry he was at how bad he was at hiding his worsening hanahaki, how much he loves them, and how he wishes he could have said goodbye in person.

“I’m sorry for causing you pain.”

In the letter towards the team he apologized for hiding his disease and explained how thankful he was to be a part of his dream team. He told them how different the Lions were to his old teams, how they were a family and how they loved each other no matter what, regardless of their differences.

“Thank you for being like a family to me.”

In the one addressed to Logan and Finn, Leo explained how they were the subjects of his attraction, how much they influenced his life coming out by choice, consequences be damned. Through blood, sweat, tears and flowers, he found himself rattling on and on about how much he loved them, how he fell in love with them, and how much he valued the friendship they had; even if it was just friendship. Leo’s hand lingered as he thought about it. Would this letter cause the two of them to blame themselves? Should he really write it?

No. He had to. Leo added a note telling them not to. It wasn’t their fault, it was his choice.

He brushed away the crimson mess. With droplets of blood staining his fingers, Leo starts on the final and most formal letter.

Leo wrote vaguely in this letter. He told that he did have hanahaki, and how he had dealt with it for years before he joined the Lions. He publicly commends the Lions for being so accepting of him, even though he had hanahaki and he was gay. Finally, he thanked his fans for staying with him through it all.

Then, with all the letters finished, Leo sealed them in envelopes and wrote to whom they are addressed to. Gingerly, Leo placed them on his nightstand and prepared for his final practice.

During practice Leo told everyone how much he appreciates them, which wasn’t too unusual, so nobody took much notice. Otherwise, practice was uneventful. Leo blocked some passes as they prepped for their game with Hufflepuff next week.

Leo was coughing almost nonstop during practice but he chokes back the blood, bile, and flowers. He allowed himself to think that this is the last time he’d have to push it down. The aching pain in his chest doesn’t subside, if anything it only grew worse the longer practice goes on.

Leo walked into the locker-room, preparing to take a shower and stretch before heading home when the aching in his chest grew. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears and the world around him blurred. He swayed, unsteady on his feet, trying not to cry or scream. His breaths were labored, he was becoming lightheaded and his heart was pounding in his chest. The pain became too much to bear and Leo’s legs failed on him.

The team rushes over with concerned expressions on their faces. On his knees, the flowers, stems, and leaves start to come up, splattering all over the cold ground, no matter what Leo does to try and keep them back. The team became frenzied, calling for Remus.

It was too late. Leo knew that this was his end.

Once, when Leo was little, he asked his grandmother why people didn't just get the flowers removed. She smiled at him sadly and told him that, there might be a person you loved so much you couldn't bear the idea of not loving them. Even if you died for it.

At the time, he brushed it off as stupid but now, now as tears sqeezed through his blurry vision and the feeling of the cold tile floor disappears, he understands exactly what she meant.

The last thought that went through his mind, before the petals, flowers, and blood came up for the last time, was of his two loves. In an instant, all of his fantasies of Finn and Logan melted into the reality of their friendship and flew past his eyes. With one last satisfied smile, Leo closed his eyes. His grandma was right.

Some love really was worth dying for.

Just a quick reminder, this is my entry for @hpbrokenhearts so if you liked this fic or it made you cry/broke your heart, please put a broken heart in the comments, either in emoji form or not! Thank you so much for reading!!!

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shimmershae · 3 years ago

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Just watched the episode and I’m going to have a lot of thoughts for you, most of them probably bordering on incoherence (LOL) so this is your last chance to nope on out of this post because I’m going to go ahead and put everything else behind a cut to save the eyes that do not want to see any spoilers at all. Unlike mine, that very much wanted to see but in a lot of cases? Could not see shit, but I digress.

Shae’s stream of consciousness coming at you in 3-2-1.

First of all, can I saw how good it is to have my show back again? Like, no. I don’t quite have Season 5 levels of excitement about the new/last season, but it is definitely nice to have all these characters back.

So all these thoughts of mine. Okay. Bear with me because there be a whole lot of them, lol.

My immediate impression as the episode opened was WHOA. Such a cool shot of Daryl with one light wing, one dark wing (representing the two sides to Daryl maybe--the man of honor versus the man he was raised to be, hmm?) looking out over some dark vista of something. Seriously. It’s dark. My room is also dark at the moment and still I was squinting to see. To make out what I’m “looking” at. I really, really hope the rest of this season isn’t this hard to make out.

Is that a tank? Kinda sorta a callback to Rick’s first episode? If so, cool. If not, well. Us fans have always put way more thought into things. For real. Change my mind.

Holy intense eye contact, Batman! Daryl Dixon has literally never looked at anyone--not BethusConLeah--in quite the same smoldering way as he looks at Carol. It’s next level. I don’t know why people be fooling themselves into thinking different.

Let’s see. I can make out--besides Daryl, Maggie, and that face mask dude I already forgot the name of--Kelly, Magna, Jerry (who’s that with him?), and Carol. Sorry. My world, like Daryl’s, inevitably narrows to Carol. She’s loking fierce and fine AF per usual.

Was that Rosita I noticed rewinding to relive Daryl eye-fucking Carol?

I’m guessing this is the army base they talked about in 10C.

That Walker perking up like “I smell food--pancakes and bacon and oohhhh” has me giggling inappropriately right off the bat. WTF.

Look at all my fabulous ladies tiptoeing through that Walker minefield. And Carol spotting that gun that might be useful right away. Listen, if you don’t think her mind ain’t always ten steps ahead of everybody else’s, you’d be wrong.

So. Are these Walkers just so old and feeble not even the call of fresh meat attracts them? Because just tiptoeing through their midst without the knockoff Lady Gaga meatsuits or skin masks has never really worked before that I can remember.

I just want to see most of this season. Is that really too much to ask? Don’t X-Files and Game of Thrones us, Angela. Please and thank you very fucking much.

Okay. Is the one drop of blood thing making anybody else have 28 Days Later vibes? Kinda? Sorta? No? Just me? Okay then. Carry on.

Wait a minute, though. How they be explaining how Daryl keeeps acquiring all these new tats all the time? Hmm? It’s like they just quit giving a shit about continuity in these latter seasons.

I mean. Do Walkers sleep now? LMAO. What is this? I guess they’re constantly evolving?

There’s my baby Lydia. Love my smol bean.

Alright though. I love to see the ladies of TWD kick some ass. It’s very gratifying. Gimps would never. Thank you, Angela.

Clever, resourceful, calm and collected, quick thinking Carol to the rescue! Seriously. Her haters must be withering away inside with absolute envy.

Hey, ya’ll. Remember when Carol was still mastering her sharpshooting skills at the Prison yard and shot at Rick’s feet? Her little “sorry, sorry”? LOL. If Rick could only see her now. Wait. He already knew what so many of his stans refuse to acknowledge--Carol=ultimate survivor and true savior to the group many times over.

Maggie’s got herself a gun, too. Go my badass girls.

Of course, Carol’s got everybody’s back. Of fucking course, Daryl’s got hers even when everybody else seem frozen in some kind of awe or stupification or something. Microcosm of the whole damn show right there.

Carol’s like “here’s your knives, love of my life.”

Eh. Maybe that’s just me.

Nah. She’s totally thinking it, too.

YAS! YAS! Norman Reedus and Melissa McBride with the top billing. How very far my babies have come.

Listen. I miss all the characters we’ve lost. Absolutely. But I love the ones that are still with us, that have been with us for so very long so hard. Whether I love their stories or decisions or not.

Is that THE Alexandria sign? That sign’s been through some shit.

DOG! Daryl kneeling to embrace our Grimes babies has me all up in my feels. And how cute is Dog getting all excited and making sure he’s the first one there to welcome back, Daddy?

Hershel is literally just as puppy dog cute as Glenn ever was. Really some Grade A casting.

What did Maggie call Mr. T? Ducky? Dougie? Sometimes with Maggie? I really cannot tell. Anyway. He’s Mr. T. for me until I find out differently, probably through rewatching with close captioning, lol.

Maggie’s got more people. So. Some new redshirts to sacrifice for plot purposes. I don’t know if I should bother learning their names or not.

I seem to remember Meridian being mentioned in one of the episode synopses.

Sophia’s hair tie around Carol’s neck will never fail to be an emotional throat punch. My heart.

“They come at night and by the time you see them, you’re already dead.” Welp. Guess that means we ain’t seeing shit for at least this first third of the season, lol. Very horror-eque though.

“You’re leaving to fight ghosts.” Aaron, to Maggie. So I see Aaron’s the type to get the hell outta Dodge when the Boogeyman comes calling, hahaha. Least he was. In the old world.

Rosita’s pissed off expression at Gabe’s decision to volunteer for the so-called suicide mission gives me life.

My baby Carol is tired AF of suicide missions. You can tell. Also? Methinks she has something to prove to Daryl here. Or at least feels like she does.

Dog with his little tactical vest. I love it.

I guess I get why they had Carol and Rosita stay behind. They had to more evenly split up the badassery to make things more fair and balanced, lol.

Okay. So Negan’s definitely earned everybody’s disdain. But they’re being woefully short-sighted by not at least hearing the dude out. Isn’t he at least native to the area?

“That is God telling us to turn around.” I’m actually on Negan’s side with this one, but Gabe answering him with “I’m pretty sure he would have run that past me first” has me howling with laughter. Father Gabe has gone straight up savage in these last couple of seasons. Rosita’s influence, perhaps?

I see what Angela is doing. Trying to make Negan the voice of reason. In this particular case? It’s kind of working. I’m still ultimately on Maggie’s side with this though BECAUSE GLENN.

Imagine showing up to work and unironically dressing like a storm trooper every day. Excuse me while I LOL.

Even in the ZA, there’s bullshit paperwork.

“Pumpkin colored spacesuit.” Good one, Ezekiel.

LOL forever. I love Princess.

“Michonne. Our Michonne shut people out of Alexandria for years.” Timely reminder that choices aren’t always perfect. Neither are people.

WTF is reprocessing? Sounds ominous. LMAO at Eugene’s “Okay. We gotta go.”

What in the actual hell with all those bagged, squirming undead? Creepy AF in that subway tunnel.

Should I just go ahead and call that the Easter bunny? We’ve had some version of it pop up since Season 1.

Is it stubborn pride with Maggie or what? Why go through with something when all signs point toward the wisdom of stopping? You can argue that she’s acting similarly to Carol last season, but there’s a huge difference here folks. Carol did her damndest to Lone Wolf that shit and minimize the danger to those she loved. Maggie’s straight up enlisting those she “cares about” to carry out her mission of revenge or vengeance, what have you. Let’s see if she gets near the amount of hate for it. Personally, I don’t blame her for her feelings one bit. They are valid. But her knowingly drawing the others into the game? That’s my sticking point. That’s how she and Carol differ, even if some people refuse to see or accept it. Anyway. Hopping right on off my soapbox.

“Why don’t you get up on your little tippy toes and try?” Omigosh, I’d dying. When I tell you I about passed out with laughter, I do not exaggerate. I should hate Negan forever and I do. Really. But I adore JDM and he frequently makes me LOL. He’s made Negan entertaining if not completely redeemable since Angela took over and more layered so I say kudos.

He has a point about Maggie playing dictator. Damn you, show, for slanting the writing just that smidgen that makes Negan make sense over his victim. I guess, though, it’s better this way. Gives both characters more shades of gray.

“He’s a dick but he makes sense.” I feel like this is Angela calling us all out when we dare to harbor any lasting resentment toward Negan for what he did to Glenn.

Speaking of--Negan. You deserved Daryl’s punch to the mouth. You just went a bridge too damn far.

“Keep pushing me, Negan. Please.” Warning shots fired, Asshole. You better watch yourself around the Widow Rhee.

Have I mentioned how much I love Princess? Her shipping the Commonwealth guards is killing me, lol. I can’t wait ‘til she meets Carol and Daryl. She’s going to have their number in two seconds flat.

I like Ezekiel and Princess as a duo. I’m not saying romantically necessarily. I just like them in scenes together because they’re fun. There’s sort of a protective indulgence Ezekiel seems to telegraph whenever they’re in scenes together. Like he’s like don’t hurt this one. I don’t know. For all these words I’ve written, I can’t quite find the ones to adequately describe what I mean.

The wall of the lost gives me such Battlestar Galactica feels. What sad thoughts it inspires.

Eugene in that Commonwealth gear. Omigosh, lol. So did they just sneak up and take Princess’s little Commonwealth ship’s gear when they were sneaking off on their own to have a quickie?

Princess finding that note for Yumiko on the wall actually gave me chills. Yeah. I’m easy. Just the suggestion of someone getting reunited with lost family gets me all up in my feels. Yumiko saying “I have to stay”? I felt that.

Oh no. Dog ran off! Somebody protect my favorite fictional puppy. Of course, Daryl goes after him. He’s always been the sweet one. Merle said it.

Eh. Negan taking Maggie’s hand at the end there would have smacked too much of Negan Sue and Maggie’s biggest plot of the season would have been prematurely dealt with so I get why they did what they did. But c’mon. It’s not really that big of a cliffhanger, is it?

Okay, so Angela calls those sleeping beauty Walkers “Lurkers” and I get it. Apparently they’re a bigger deal in the comics, but I really don’t remember seeing them all that much on the actual show. Somebody jog my memory.

Of fucking course, you can actually see what��s happening in the inside the episode clips. I wish we could choose to view the episode with that lighting because some of us be blind. And this time I mean in the more literal sense. Not the figurative one.

Anyway. I’m going to stop trying to write a novel for ya’ll and move on to better things. Like maybe a nap. Maybe some early dinner. I don’t know. I’m tired AF and need a little recharge.

Before I go, though? Overall impression of the episode? I liked it. There were parts that I loved (all the ladies being badass, every second of Carol, Daryl reuniting with the Grimes babies and Dog, all things Princess, some of Negan’s one-liners about had me busting a gut, Rosita serving looks, Kelly and Lydia getting to be badass too) and parts I didn’t love (not being able to see a damn thing, Angela trying to tip the scales in Negan’s favor, not enough Carol or Aaron or Rosita, no reunion between Aunt Carol and the Grimes babies even though that picture floating around suggests it was at least shot, not being able to see a damn thing, all the Alexandria people playing follow the leader for Maggie when she’s been gone 6 years and Daryl’s right there--hell, even Father G deserves the honor over her because it’s obvious they’re not exactly on the same wavelength anymore).

I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m just glad to have our show back.

Later, lovelies.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #spoilers #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #and giggle and giggle

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afinepricklypear · 4 years ago

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**Update: The works mentioned in this post have since been taken down. The “message” was removed by AO3 because it was a violation of their TOS and it seems the author chose to remove their “opinions” piece.**

Despite the ongoing world crisis, I hope everyone is doing great as the year comes to a close and prepping for a safe holiday season.

I don’t really post here a lot, but I just wanted to talk about a problem that exists in every fandom and has recently come up for me in the BSD fandom. This problem is typically referred to as: toxic behavior, however, I sort of hate that term because it’s an umbrella term that encapsulates a wide array of behaviors that is purposefully vague so as to imply everything can be toxic, which means the definition changes depending upon the person, and ends up getting thrown around to describe any behavior that a person dislikes. That said, most people can agree that the term ‘toxic behavior’ includes “shipper wars” and harassing people because of their “ship”.

Yesterday, a user on AO3 going by the penname E_C_arts posted a message titled “deer Soukoku fans” and giving it the not-innocuous summary “please we’re begging you, please stop”. Clicking through leads to a rather prime example of this particular flavor of toxic fandom behavior, guised as an attempt to defend those who were allegedly victims of this self-same behavior, also a lovely example of emotional manipulation.

Although what’s currently posted (and what I managed to screen shot below) may not seem terrible on first glance, if not a little cringey, and can be easy to agree with (don’t bully people that write for a ship you dislike), this was not their original message and has been edited since being posted and, and only after receiving the number of comments it did and which they’re now noting as “proving their point” – a point which they erased, thus manipulating perceptions. I wish I had gotten a screenshot of the original, but if you scroll through the comments, you can find some people that quoted it.

This person most definitely did open their “message” to Soukoku fans by literally telling them to “stop writing” for it. They claimed there was some unspecified AU (or maybe multiple unspecified AUs) that had been overwritten for, that it was overused, and not original. They went on to talk about how the abundance of soukoku content was turning off new fans to the series (don’t even know how that logics…) and bullying people from creating content for other ships, basing these irrational sentiments off some false claim that removing everything with the soukoku ship from the fandom would only leave behind a sad, inacccurate (and oddly specific) 305 posts.

Evidence of their now deleted perspective can be further seen in another post they made to AO3 a couple days before this ugly rant. Titled simply “My unpopular BSD opinions”, they didn’t manage to garner much attention and went mostly ignored because, well, it’s your opinions about the show and that’s whatever. Of course, when you click into it, the very first “opinion” shared, is that they hate Dazai x Chuuya. Okay, that’s an opinion everyone is entitled to, and that’s fine. You don’t like the popular ship, that’s…not exactly an unpopular opinion, there’s quite a number of people that don’t ship soukoku. No problem. Until, they go on to elaborate.

Despite the title of this piece being ‘their opinions’, they state as ‘fact’ that its confirmed that this is “not a thing”, so ‘please stop shipping them it doesn’t work, it’s way too overused for it to be “funny” anymore’ (I’m a little confused about this wording, because Shipping is Serious Business™, so…not sure there are too many soukoku shippers doing it because they think it’s hilarious or whatnot, in fact, most soukoku fics are tagged ‘angst’, which we all know, angst is very ‘haha, lol’…but whatevs). They then include the same sentiment they expanded on in their Dear John to soukoku fans and subsequently deleted: “Please stop, there are too many au’s with almost the exact same plot Chuuya and Dazai being together, its really difficult to find any non-Dazai x Chuuya au’s”.

On the surface, once again, there are some “truths” to this sentiment. DaiChuu is a popular ship and there is a disproportionate amount of soukoku ship fics on the fandom comparative to other ships (soukoku comes in at a whopping 10,000+ currently, with the next popular ship Aku/Atsushi sitting at a decidedly less 2500+). It’s really not that difficult to find non-DazaixChuuya fics, if you know how to use filters on AO3, but there are going to be less to read from when you filter it down, and depending on your ship, you may find yourself in a fic desert, and I can certainly understand why someone young and lacking in rational thought processes might want to blame the popular ship for this predicament.

The problem with this logic, and it permeates every fandom, not just BSD, is that the shippers sharing and loving their ship are not to blame for your lack of ship content. You just don’t have a popular ship. If all the people who love soukoku stopped creating content for it, as this person is ‘begging’ them to do, that’s not going to increase the amount of content for your ships, because the reason that content isn’t being created is because there aren’t enough shippers for it. So, the only way this person’s logic works, is if what this person is actually saying, isn’t that they want these people to stop creating content for the BSD fandom, they just want them to jump ship, stop creating content for soukoku and start creating content for their ships.

Any creator/fan is going to have a visceral reaction to that: who the fuck are you to tell me what to create? And for free, no less!

This moves us more towards a clearer definition of what is toxic fandom behavior. In short, its telling anyone how they should interact with or interpret their favorite content. I mean, even Word of God does not have this power. That’s because every single fan in a fandom is an individual human being. They are possessed of their own autonomy, and as a creator I know, that once you put something out into the world and give it over to others, you have little control over how people consume and feel about your work. You can tell them your intention, but that’s not going to sway them to interpret it that way, and that’s…just the way it works.

Now, the elephant in the room needs to be addressed. It’s easy for me to be ‘offended’ by this person’s post and not see their complaints because I am a soukoku fan. I’m also the target of this person’s rant, and one of those people this person is attempting to emotionally manipulate into writing for other ships in the fandom for which I have no preference. But I am capable of seeing the other side of this argument.

First, because I do have other fandoms in which I am part, and for which I have a rare-pair ship. For example, I am a Gundam Wing fan and a 2x5 (Duo/WuFei) shipper. I’ve posted two 2x5 fics on fanfiction.net. While 2x5 is not the rarest of rarepairs in the Gundam Wing fandom, it is significantly eclipsed (as are almost *all* ships in the fandom) by the 1x2 (Heero/Duo) ship. Do I hate 1x2 shippers for my lack of 2x5 content? No. I just appreciate what I’ve got all the more, and I’ll create content for it when I feel compelled, and I sure the fuck won’t implore 1x2 shippers to stop writing for their fave and write more for mine because I want more 2x5 – that’s sheer entitlement, right there, pure and simple. I also ship 3xD (Trowa/Dorothy) in Gundam Wing, which *is* the rarest of rarepairs – I think there’s only, like, two stories in existence that features this pair on the entirety of the internet. I’m also a RavenxMurphy (Murven) shipper in The 100 fandom and I do not hate Bellarke fans because…those people are scary and have canceled the show’s creator for not delivering on Bellarke, and in BSD, I ship Atsushi/Lucy (yes, I said it, they’re cute af and I hope Asagiri delivers on that ship). I also low-key ship Yosano/Ranpo (sorry, Ranpo/Poe shippers, I understand the appeal, I just think him and Yosano is sooo cute, please don’t kill me…), and I also ship Yosano with Kunikida – all of which are some of the rarest in the BSD fandom.

Second, because I have seen and called out shipping harassment in the BSD fandom, so I am well aware that this kind of thing exists – as it exists literally everywhere and in every flavor. Against soukoku shippers from antis and by soukoku shippers against shippers putting Dazai or Chuuya with any other characters and by soukoku shippers against other soukoku shippers that are, uh, “doing it wrong”. None of these is appropriate. You’re not fighting fire with fire if you’re an anti-attacking the popular ship, you’re just creating a bigger fire and burning the entire fandom down. You’re not defending your ship if you are a soukoku fan attacking non-soukoku fans, you’re just punching down by attacking a less popular ship. And top/bottom arguments aren’t just toxic, they’re also deeply entrenched in fetishization of same sex pairings through a forced heteronormative lens and is, kind of, sort of, actually homophobic in its basis (yes, I said it. It’s ignorant and homophobic and trying to argue with ‘personality/physical traits’ as evidence of who serves what position in the bedroom can be emotionally and mentally damaging to members of the LGBTQ community. Claiming that Chuuya should be bottom because he’s shorter/smaller, or that Dazai has ‘bottom energy’ because he’s more flamboyant and ‘feminine’ is straight up discrimination – a shorter guy can definitely be top, and a manly man can be bottom, it’s not a behavior based on perceived gendered traits, it is just a fucking preferred sexual position, and no, you are not ‘fixing it’ by purposely using positions for these characters that eschews the stereotypes either. Trying to justify positioning by personality/physical traits at all, in any way, shape, or form is just not okay – if it’s your preference, it’s your preference, no justification needed, just recognize that it is *your* preference and arguing what’s ‘right/wrong’ positioning is just plain wrong).

But this brings us to a different issue: bad actors and blaming a whole community for a ‘few rotten apples’. I could easily lump this one person in with everyone that does not ship soukoku and deem them all toxic, aggressive, entitled, bullies attempting to harass soukoku shippers off the platform. Or I could see them for what they are, individuals with individual motivations and drives and morals that also happen to share the same shipping preferences. Is it true to say that there are no soukoku fans that engage in the behaviors described by E_C_arts? No, there are definitely those that do, as there are antis that engage in that same behavior against soukoku fans. But this person also asserts that soukoku fans turning ‘every BSD post about soukoku’ is also a toxic behavior. To which I refer you back to one. This is how they engage with and interpret the work. Don’t yuck on someone else’s yum. People want to gush about how cute they thought soukoku were in an official art, or that they felt there was some hidden (or not so hidden) interaction between them that validates their ship, or their inspired to create soukoku content based on it, so what (for the record, it irks me too when people go ‘see it’s canon and Bones totally ships it’, because it’s unlikely, given BSDs genre, that any romantic relationship will be confirmed, soukoku notwithstanding). It is not, in fact, toxic to gush over it. Let them have their fun with it, let them enjoy their ship. Now, if you go and make a comment about liking the art for other reasons and they reply to you about “…but also soukoku”, then still, that’s not toxic, that’s just them enjoying the content the way that they enjoy it, so let them enjoy it, and you opened yourself to engagement without any qualifiers for the type of engagement you were soliciting, you can’t then backtrack and go ‘but I’m not a soukoku shipper, they should’ve been able to read my mind and known that, it’s totally toxic of them to share their personal reasons for loving the show in response to my sharing my love for the show’. But if you comment about another ship, and they reply to you “…ew, gross! It’s 100% soukoku” then yes, that’s toxic. A lot of people fail to make this distinction, that they are, maybe, merely being triggered and not actually harassed, by feeling like their ship isn’t being validated because they see another ship all over the place and everyone they engage with ships it.

It’s also toxic, to take an experience with one person and hold every soukoku shipper in existence responsible for that one person’s inappropriate behavior. The truth is, that bad actors amongst soukoku fans are not unique, not to the ship and not to the fandom and not even to fandom culture in general. Every group in existence everywhere has bad actors in it that, while the group disavows their behavior, they continue to be held accountable for those individuals and judged by them. For current events, look at how the BLM movement has been blamed for bad actors (many of whom were not actually BLM activists) that took advantage of the protests and started riots and chaos. A small percentage of people were involved in these behaviors, but the entire movement, despite speaking out against rioting, continues to take the blame for it. For me, that’s the root of toxicity. We need to start holding individuals accountable and stop blaming people who have no control over those individuals, because they share a few similar beliefs or interests. That’s throwing the baby out with the bathwater. But the shippers as a whole are not to blame for the actions of a few, and the reason that it feels that there are so many more soukoku fans that do this is because of volume, there are so many more soukoku fans. It’s basic math. If two percent of fans are these toxic kinds of shippers, then there’s going to be so many more of them in a larger population than a smaller one.

I try to call out toxic behavior, no matter if it’s my ship being lambasted or one of my fellow shippers doing the lambasting, whenever I see it, but the trouble is, I don’t typically go into fan content that isn’t for my ship and, thus, I don’t see it. The same goes for the vast majority of soukoku fans out there. We’re here for soukoku content, we’re seeking out soukoku content, and avoiding what isn’t soukoku content. But here is my offer to all of those who are outside of my ship. I like to argue. If someone is harassing you for having a non-soukoku ship, call me, let me know, I will argue with them for you. I will explain to them in no uncertain terms, and in many unpleasant ways, that they do not represent the soukoku shipping community and they are an embarrassment to us. Content for any and all ships is welcomed and encouraged within the fandom. Write, draw, contribute, be a part of the fandom and express yourself, please. If you are a soukoku shipper (or even if you’re not), and someone is harassing you about your top/bottom preference, call me, let me know, I will argue with them for you. I will explain to them why their justifications for which character should be top or bottom in a same sex pairing is grossly misrepresentative and exploitative of the LGBTQ community and rather disgusting. Do not assume that because we seem to remain silent on these types of harassment that it’s because we are in agreement with them, it is only because we haven’t seen them – why would we, we’re not going in those spaces that weren’t created for us. Ask the community for help, don’t attack the rest of us for the poor actions of a few that we were not even aware of. Let us help you in policing them, rather than assuming we don’t care. We are just too busy staying in our lanes, but if you need us, we are here. Majority of us want a clean, friendly, welcoming community for creators of all types as much as you do.

All of this aside, there are spaces and places for these debates and AO3 is not it. Posting this kind of message is actually a violation of AO3 TOS, constituting as harassment, which is defined on the AO3 TOS as “…any behavior that produces a generally hostile environment for its target…”( https://archiveofourown.org/tos#IV.G.). This general behavior also falls into the realm of another kind of toxic fandom behavior: hijacking a platform/tag for your own purposes that is a direct contradiction to its express usage (otherwise, known as trolling). AO3 is for posting fan-made content that contributes to a deeper understanding and expansion upon the original work. Using AO3 to attack people who are using AO3 for exactly what it is designed to be used for is an abuse of the platform. It’s not okay and invites similar content that will ultimately interfere with the original purpose of the platform. AO3 is for fan content, not for your own personal rants about other people in the community, please keep it that way

I do also want to note, that this person choosing to edit their post after receiving the justified ire from fans (notably soukoku and non-soukoku fans alike upset by the audacity of this person, who, as far as can be told, has never themselves contributed fanfiction to the community, to tell people what they can and cannot write) for their original comments, is a form of manipulative abuse called ‘gaslighting’. They are now claiming to be a victim that “never said to stop writing”, despite that having been the literal words they used in the opening of their original post. They are now pointing at these comments as “proof” of their point that soukoku fans are aggressive bullies that attack without cause when there was definitely cause from the original comments. This person clearly has bigger issues than just lacking shipper content for their personal preferences on the BSD fandom.

To all of those who are afraid to share content for your ship because you think you’ll be harassed, as evidenced by this person’s claims, that is simply not true. While there might be one or two people that say something, we all get them no matter if you have a popular ship or a rarepair ship, haters are gonna hate – I’ve gotten my share of hateful comments towards my ships too, but there are many more people that share your ship and are interested in your content, in fact, some of them are starved for it. While having a rarepair might mean you’ll garner less interactions with your content, you have a better opportunity to form a deeper bond with the people that do interact, and they may be more appreciative, because what you’re delivering to them is so much harder to come by. The existence of one ship does not affect your ship’s popularity, and if it simply went away, that doesn’t mean that your ship would receive more attention – in fact, it might mean the show itself would receive less attention.

Create and let others create and use platforms for their appropriate purposes, and most importantly, when it comes to addressing toxic behavior in a fandom, look to yourself first. Are you placing the blame where it belongs? Are you addressing the root cause of the problem or swinging blindly and attacking innocent bystanders in the process? Will what you say actually help the problem? Or will it contribute to the issue, and maybe even create an issue that didn’t exist before?

#fanfiction #fanfic #bsd #bsd fanfic #soukoku #daichuu #dazai x chuuya #shipper war #toxic fandom behavior #toxic people #toxic #AO3 #bullying #harassment

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bamon4bamily · 4 years ago

Text

TVD 9x16 - What happens in Vegas... (part 2 of part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – The hospital location. As soon as they arrive, they figure they must have made some kind of mistake. It is in fact a Psychiatric Hospital, but it looks like it has been abandoned for years.

UBER DRIVER: Looks like you might have the wrong address…

KAI: It’s the right address, look (shows Damon his phone with last night’s route).

DAMON: Guess it is…

UBER DRIVER: Are you sure you guys want me to leave you here?

IKER: Trust us, man, after last night, it can’t get any crazier.

UBER DRIVER: If you say so. Good luck! (Drives away).

ALARIC: (Looking at the creepy place, already regretting whatever they did there the previous night) Why?! Why on earth would we come here!

DAMON: Guessing princess bride here (referring to Kai), had something to do with that.

IKER: There is no way that call came from here...

DAMON: Let’s check it out. We’ll do it fast, in and out; just to make sure Stefan isn’t passed out somewhere inside.

ALARIC: I’m getting too old for this shit…

DAMON: Oh, come on, Ric! Think of it as another one of your Indiana Jones adventures (mocking him for the photos he took in cosplay), the Last Crusade, if you like.

ALARIC: Shut up…

They go inside… the place is straight out of a horror movie.

IKER: Okay, I’m officially creeped out.

DAMON: I say we split up; it’ll be faster and we can cover more ground.

KAI: Have you ever seen a horror movie? That’s exactly the kind of decision that gets everybody killed… Trust me, I would know.

DAMON: Fine, Michael Myers, you can come with me.

We’ll look this way... Iker, you and Ric can search down that corridor.

IKER: Sounds like a plan. But, 20 minutes max, then we meet back here.

DAMON: 20 tops. (Teasing, as him and Kai are walking away) Oh, and watch out for the killer clown…

IKER: Yo, don’t play with that shit, man! You know I hate clowns...

ALARIC: So do you, Damon. So, if anyone is pissing their pants, my money is on you.

(Damon and Kai walk towards one direction, Iker and Alaric, towards another).

KAI: Do you really think Stefan is here? I mean, I know he’s dark and gloomy, but this is a bit extreme… even for me.

DAMON: The only reason we are here is because your crazy ass is definitely responsible for dragging us here last night.

KAI: Yeah, probably… but still, creepy AF…

DAMON: Now you know how we feel when you’re around. But… what I am really intrigued about, is how the hell you joined our little party.

You must remember at least getting on a plane or something...

KAI: No… Last thing I remember, I was taking a nap, and then… puff! I woke up here…

DAMON: You couldn’t have driven; so how the hell did you get here… Makes no sense.

KAI: Ooh…! What if I can do that Bonster trick?! That’d be freakin awesome!

DAMON: Of course you can’t, that’s stupid. Unless… No, no, I refuse to believe that…

KAI: What? You think Bonster...? Hey, it makes more sense than the alternatives…

DAMON: No way! Hell no! Let’s just drop this little mystery of ours and do what we came here to do… (they continue searching; suddenly, he stops dead in his tracks) Shhhhh, do you hear that?

KAI: What? No…

DAMON: Listen…

KAI: I am! I don’t hear anything…

DAMON: I thought you had vamp hearing…. Listen harder.

KAI: (Standing completely still and in total silence, trying to listen…)

DAMON: (Does a vamp speed trick, scares the shit out of Kai) Killer clown!

KAI: Jesus mother of Christ! (Damon cracks up) Not funny, asshole!

I literally almost shit myself! And, I’m hung over, so that was a real possibility!

DAMON: Ew, no, no, no… you’re disgusting.

KAI: Just being honest… don’t act like you don’t know what that’s about.

DAMON: Yeah, no... definitely not having this conversation!

Come on, let’s pick up the paste; vamp speed our way through this place before we become the victims of the “based on a true story” Saw movie.

Cut to – Iker and Alaric

ALARIC: Sorry we got you into this mess, man.

IKER: No worries. I’m used to it. These types of situations pretty much sums up what it’s like being friends with Damon.

ALARIC: Tell me about it. My life said goodbye to “normal” the day we became friends.

IKER: Ditto (they laugh in complicity).

ALARIC: He’s a good guy, though. I mean, considering…

IKER: He is… I’m really glad Bonnie gave him a chance; never seen him this happy… like, really happy.

ALARIC: Me neither… I think we both know he wasn’t truly happy with Elena. Don’t tell her I said that… but no matter how hard they tried; it just wasn’t going to work; too messy. Gotta say, it’s kind of ironic that when he “got the girl”, turned out it wasn’t the “right girl” … After all his love drama, it was about time he finally found “the one”.

IKER: It sure was… Hey, man, look… (spots something strange ahead, vamps to it. It’s a black garbage bag; which wouldn’t be all that strange if it weren’t new). Check this out… (Alaric opens the bag, and starts taking memorabilia from iconic Britney Spears videos, which are clearly originals) What the…

ALARIC: I’m starting to believe Stefan wasn’t kidding…

IKER: Nah… you don’t think… Can’t be, right?!

ALARIC: When those two (referring to Damon and Stefan) team-up, anything is possible, so… maybe?

IKER: Oh, shit! This is getting crazier than I thought!

ALARIC: Straight out insane. Let’s go back. I’m pretty sure Stefan isn’t here, and this place is giving me the chills.

IKER: Me too… (they head back to the meeting point).

Cut back to Kai and Damon.

KAI: We’ve searched everywhere, I really don’t think he’s here…

DAMON: You’re right. Another dead end; let’s go back. (Just as they are about to turn around, Damon spots something) Wait… do you see that?

KAI: Hell no! I’m not falling again.

DAMON: No, I’m serious. Look... (they see something shiny. Damon takes a closer look, picks it up) It’s Donovan’s badge.

KAI: So, they were definitely here with us…Anything else?

DAMON: Nop, just the badge.

KAI: Well, let’s head back, see what we all make of it. This place is really starting to freak me out… the vibes, you know?

DAMON: Yeah, I know… (they speed vamp back to the meeting point and reunite with Alaric and Iker).

ALARIC: Find anything? Cause we did…

DAMON: Stefan?!

ALARIC: No, this (shows him the bag with the memorabilia).

DAMON: What is all this?

IKER: (Teasing) You know perfectly well what it is…

KAI: All too well, sweetheart.

DAMON: At least I didn’t get married in a tutu, princess.

KAI: That princess thing got old like an hour ago. You really need to start thinking outside the box, Damon.

DAMON: That’s right! Yes! A box! I remember a box!

ALARIC: Great! And…?

DAMON: That’s it, that’s all I got.

ALARIC: (Sarcastic) Very helpful, Damon.

DAMON: Well, we also found this… (shows them Matt’s badge)

ALARIC: Interesting… still not a lot to go on, but that confirms we were all here. Listen, guys, I may have a theory…I still don’t know how, or why, but I believe we actually did go to Britney’s house, the real Britney; at some point during the night…Look at the props; they don’t seem fake… Which brings me to the conclusion, that we must have stolen them from her house. Now, as for why? … I have no fucking idea, and I can live without knowing…

KAI: The Britney Spears?! Nah, there’s no way we would be able to break into her house!

DAMON: But what if we didn’t break in… What if, and just hear me out on this, Sheriff Donovan pulled the cop card… and that’s how they let us in.

ALARIC: Matt wouldn’t do that.

DAMON: Maybe not sober, but…

ALARIC: Still, they wouldn’t have let a wasted cop and his pals in for some tea.

KAI: But if we sneaked in… let’s say, hiding inside a police car?

IKER: A police car! Yes! I told you I remembered something about a police car; it was one of those suv ones…

DAMON: We must have stolen one…

IKER: Wouldn’t be a long shot.

DAMON: Don’t those things have trackers though? They would have found us in seconds.

KAI: Not if you know how to disable a tracking device… which I do.

DAMON: Why am I not surprised…

KAI: I had a lot of time on my hands, figured I’d learn a trick or two.

ALARIC: Okay, this is getting even more confusing. I say we go back to the villa, for all we know Stefan might be back. We can check the hotel parking lot, see if we find a stolen cop car; work it from there.

KAI: Agreed. We really need to get out of this place; freaking me TF out. Uber’s on me.

(They wait for a while, until their uber arrives. As they drive away, on one of the top floor windows, a freaky clown waves goodbye).

Cut to – The boy’s hotel villa. They walk inside, and hear the piano playing…

DAMON: It’s that damn monkey! (They walk into the living room, only to find Britney Spears, in the flesh, playing the piano).

BRITNEY: Hello, boys…

KAI: Britney…the Britney Spears…?

BRITNEY: The one and only…

KAI: (Totally fanboying) Oh my god!

DAMON: (Totally fanboying too) OMG! OMG! OMG! It’s Britney, bitches!

BRITNEY: Aw, you’re sweet…

(takes a gun out of her purse and points it at them). Now, shut the fuck up and tell me where the hell is the rest of my stuff!!

ALARIC: Wow, wow, wow… please, don’t shoot! It’s right here (hands her the bag, she looks through it).

BRITNEY: You’re lucky I like to handle somethings on my own. You’d all be dead if my security were involved…

DAMON: (Still fanboying) Lucky… I love that song!

BRITNEY: Now, where is Stefan? We need to settle this little feud of ours, once and for all.

ALARIC: Wouldn’t we all like to know…

BRITNEY: What do you mean? He was with you (referring to Damon), the cop, and the howling boy, at my house last night.

DAMON: Wait, so, neither of these guys were there with us?

BRITNEY: No… but if you had brought him (referring to Iker), maybe things could have turned out differently (winks at Iker).

Tell you what, boys, I’ll help you find him. As long as you help me get my long-awaited trophy win, on “Mr. Bon Jovi”.

DAMON: Wait… so that concert story; that was you?

I thought Stefan was messing with me!

BRITNEY: Oh, that was me… Prick made me think he was Bon Jovi, I was totally fangirling, so embarrassing. That was before I got really famous, and I met the real John. Made me feel like a fool when I told John we had met before, and he was like: “uhm, no we haven’t”. So, as you can understand, it was only fitting that I would get him back for that.

DAMON: I’m with you, Brit, Stefan is a dick!

ALARIC: Can you give us any insight on what happened at your place? Might help us figure out where he is.

BRITNEY: I know from my security cameras that they used a police suv to gain access. Then you (referring to Damon), did some weird eye thing to my security team, and they just stood there, doing nothing. I also know from the cameras, that Stefan took my babies Justi and Kevi (referring to the baby elephant and the monkey). And you (to Damon), stole the memorabilia I had from my videos… My red leather suit better be intact, or I’mma kill you!

DAMON: Oops…

IKER: Don’t you dare say: “I did it again”...

BRITNEY: Wait… I think I might know where he is… Back when we first met, we were here, in Vegas. He took me to this spot in the desert he liked to go to; he’s such a weirdo… Anyway, maybe he went there? You know, for old times’ sake…

ALARIC: Maybe… but it’s gonna be hard to find a “spot” in the middle of the desert, and we don’t have much time; our plane is leaving in like 3 hours.

BRITNEY: Well, if you want to go back home with the rest of your pack, you really don’t have much of a choice.

KAI: There’s no way we are going to find him if he is in the middle of the desert.

BRITNEY: It’s Britney, bitch!

Of course we’ll find him. Listen, you boys take the cop van and follow mine, I’ll lead you to the spot.

IKER: Except, we don’t know where it is…

BRITNEY: (Smirks) But I do… (shows them live cctv footage from inside the cop car) See, boys, I have eyes everywhere! It’s in the parking lot.

(They go to the car and find Matt and Tyler inside, a cellphone in Matts hand, and a lot of empty bottles lying around. As expected, neither of them remember anything about the previous night; it’s a miracle they even know who they are. The only thing they keep repeating, and cracking up about is, Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital. They are clearly either still drunk or high on something. They decide it’s best they stay behind and get some rest in the villa. Damon, Iker, Alaric and Kai get in the cop car, and follow Britney to the site.)

BRITNEY: Okay, boys, this is the spot. (They get out of the car, start looking around. She get’s out as well, points the gun at them). Did you really think I was going to help you?! Aw, cuties…no one messes with the Brit! I gave Stefan his, now it’s time for yours …

KAI: But, Britney, what about us (referring to himself, Iker, and Alaric)? We didn’t do anything!

BRITNEY: Guilty by association… Now, give me your clothes, and the car keys… Quick, or I swear I’ll shoot! (They hand her the stuff; she gets in her car. Just as she is about to take-off, she opens her window) If you want to know where Stefan is; it’s easy, he’s exactly where he belongs… Good luck trying to find an uber to pick you up here… And, by the way, sweetheart (talking to Damon), there’s only one princess of pop, and it ain’t you.

(Gives them the finger, and drives away).

DAMON: (Looking heartbroken) But… Britney…

ALARIC: (Sarcastic) Well, isn’t this peachy!

IKER: At least she left us our phones.

ALARIC: There is no way we are going to catch that flight, or find Stefan any time soon. I think it’s time to call Caroline…

DAMON: Shit! Shit! Shit!... Fine… I’ll do it… (dials). Care, it’s Damon… Listen ...The bachelor party got a little crazy and, well...we lost Stefan.

BONNIE: Uhm…think we might have a problem of our own…

DAMON: Bon?

BONNIE: It’s me, I think… Anyway; the bachelorette got a little crazy too, and, well… we lost Caroline.

TVD 9x16 (part 2) coming next! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

#TVD #tvd fanfiction #vampire diaries #bamon #bamon fanfic #bonnie bennett #damon salvatore #ilovefanfic86 #mademoisellevalerie85 #stephm1587 #bamon-fanfiction

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ultimaterealmofchaos · 4 years ago

Note

what are your honest thought about your muse’s canon? [all your dr canons :3 ]

the source!! (accepting!!)

all of my dr canons???? holy shit here we go

starting with our favorite ultimate musician ibuki: first off???? we all know how i feel about ibuki. she’s my absolute favorite sdr2 character, and i’m about 99.9% sure she’s my favorite danganronpa character overall. but of course, i have a few criticisms. not about her specifically, i don’t think, i think she’s fine, but like... how the game handled her??? okay so i’ve seen a lot of criticism online about her (and this is probably my own fault for going to the danganronpa subreddit), saying that she’s annoying, she adds nothing to the story, there’s no reason for her existence, etc. and honestly that isn’t a problem that’s specific to ibuki. it’s made pretty clear if you really look at it that she only exists to end up dead, which i think is a real problem with the writing of the series overall. and since all my muses end up dead in some form here, that’s a common criticism that i’m going to point out right here right now and never again in this post. but ibuki herself suffers from that she’s incredibly surface-level with only a deeper side underneath if you choose to pursue it. and like. obviously i’m not asking for her to be the deepest character in the lore, that’s not what she is, and obviously she’s... not written to be the smartest character at all, but i wish they had done her a little differently, and not hidden all her insightfulness in free time events. because. she’s smart. she doesn’t see herself as smart, but she is. and i wish they’d shown that more. and honestly??? you are telling me that she is the ultimate musician, yet nobody in her class likes her music?! that many people in there and not a single soul actually likes it??? chunsoft you’re fuckin’ playing with me here and i don’t like it. come on. make up your damn minds. ffs.

also why’d she have to die that’s some bullshit. she was cool af and i’m still salt about it.

this is going to get long and ridiculous bc i have so many of them so i’m hiding the rest under a cut.

next up is sakura!!! i actually think sakura was done quite well, honestly. granted, it was the first game, so i don’t think any of us saw the twist with her coming, but it was done really well! and her eventual death definitely suited her character. i never thought she’d be one to kill anyone, and i was glad that i was proven right, even though i was really upset with her death (just like i was with just about every other one lmao). from a meta standpoint, i really like how they took the tough-girl-who-even-looks-”manly” thing and sorta turned it on its head a bit (like, i’m not going to lie, i legit thought she was a guy at first who just happened to be wearing a girl’s school uniform and i think just about everyone does). her relationship with hina that built over the course of the game was something that was needed for her, imo, as it helps us as players sort of humanize her a bit and not just see her as this massive devastating block of muscle. i like how they managed to portray that even if she’s stoic as fuck on the outside, she really cares about everyone in her class, and that’s just shown by her death itself. they even managed to convey a sort of degree of softness with her, as shown by her relationship with hina and how hina was just about the only one that wasn’t initially scared shitless of her. idk man dr1 really did its characterization really well for danganronpa and they never really got that right again, did they? it’s a shame, really.

next up is our favorite bitch. junko enoshima. dear. god. i love her so much, and i love to hate her so much. the way she acts, the way she uses mukuro for her own gain, the way she switches personalities on the drop of a hat, the way she pretty much thought all this shit up on her own (with mukuro as well i’m assuming but let’s be real here it was honestly all her)... she’s a fucking unapologetic bastard and we love her for it. honestly i always look forward to playing a danganronpa game i haven’t already played because i’m dying to see how they’re shoehorning her in. because. it’s not dr without her. i’m sorry. it’s just not. sometimes villains are villains just because. they don’t have to have a deep backstory as to why they’re the way they are, and junko is a wonderful example of that. i love her. i’m biased. i love her sm.

next is miu. oh, dear, sweet miu. she’s the fanservicey character who makes things sometimes. that’s it. there’s one of these in every game. and you know what? having a fanservicey character is fine. to me, anyway. you do you, guys. but honestly i find miu kind of insulting in a way. no, not because she’s vulgar as fuck; guys, i am vulgar as fuck, especially after having a couple drinks, okay, i can sympathize in a way with her. no, what i’m insulted by is that they had the audacity to make her the ultimate inventor, and then fuckin’ reduce her to swearing, sex jokes, and vulgarity. like. inventors are smart as fuck. ya kinda need to be in order to invent things, right? especially doing it as consistently as she does. i mean, fuck, she provided whole things for the plot, for fuck’s sake. and they still reduce her to a dumb blonde who’s obsessed with kiibo and sexual innuendos. come on. do better. let’s go. she can still keep her vulgar tendencies, just.... god, i don’t even know how to fix her, but i hate her characterization even though overall i still like her quite a lot. learn to write women, you fucks; how did you get it more right in dr1 than in v3. and we’re not gonna even talk about the canonical ending because i see that differently than most people and it has nothing to do with what i’m talking about, which is what we see in 95% of the game.

next: our favorite bug boy gonta. it should be no secret that i love gonta. i love him. so much. the only character that is second to my love for gonta is korekiyo. i love korekiyo so much too. but this isn’t about him. it’s about gonta. again, we are bending the trope of big-character-is-terrifying and i really appreciate that in gonta’s case. like with sakura. ahaha. what can i say, i’m really weak for that sort of thing, i guess. but he suffers from the same shallowness that miu and even ibuki does. they tried to give him some more depth, but i don’t think it really worked. and like. come on. a guy who was raised by wolves for years and doesn’t really know how to interact with people now being in a killing game with a bunch of them???? shit, there’s so much you can do with that!! but no. we didn’t go there. much like we didn’t go there for everyone who wasn’t shuichi, kaito, maki, or kokichi. (ok shuichi gets a pass but you know.) idk man it’s probably because i didn’t do everyone’s free time events because there’s literally no way to do so, but i’m kind of salty about how v3 just treated its characters. all of them have potential. it just wasn’t reached. at all. unless it was the main four. they all deserve better.

lastly, we have mikan. and boy. do i have a lot to say about mikan. so, going into this, i want to say that i am an abuse victim. there, it’s out in the open. so, knowing that... some stuff about her makes sense. especially when you consider that she, too, is an abuse victim. and others. just. do not. she deserved better. she deserved so much better. and what made me the most incensed about this is her goddamn anniversary outfit. they only saw and used mikan as fanservice. why would you use an abuse victim as fucking fanservice i’m gonna fuckin’ riot. like. she’s traumatized as fuck. her despair disease shit makes a lot of sense, don’t get me wrong. it’s suitable for her that things happened the way they did with that. but for fuck’s sake. “oh haha look at that mikan fell again, face down ass up that’s the way she likes to--” stop. she deserves better. i’m mad about it. it’s not funny. stop doing mikan so fuckin’ dirty, you assholes. i’m taking her and i’m making her better. so fuck you.

anyway that’s it :3 i’m sorry this turned out to be so long aslkdjfal. i hope i answered the question sufficiently enough :333

#ooc: it's! karla!#we're popular! ~ questions #munday answers #death mention tw #abuse mention tw #long post tw #willofcausality

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ziracona · 4 years ago

Note

And I hate to do this- So on that thread, not that he's as bad, why do you think Michael is redeemable? (and also Frank) Especially by his main victim? :? I hope that isn't as bad or as judgmental as I think it sounds... - Sleepy (its like 5am here :3 living up to my name i see)

So, these I gave a short and a long answer for under cut, but forgot I’m on mobile and can’t do that. I can tag it “long post” but uhhh, sorry about this. Anyway, thats why Frank comes in two chunks. I wrote it expecting to be able to use a read more. :’-] also ya fine. And I hope you’re in bed 🤣 now. Okay so. Here’s my reasons:

For Michael, to start, Halloween is complicated af. You have to know what timeline people are talking about, because there are like 8+ and Michael has been written as a wildly different character by wildly different content creators, and I would not feel the same ways towards them all. They’re not the same character. When I talk about Michael, unless I’m going on about a specific other film, I mean either H20 canon, or DbD canon, which are in line with each other when it comes to characterization. (This also includes Halloween’s 1 & 2 in the H20 line, and Halloween 1 at least in DbD). In those timelines, Michael has like at best 2% agency and choice in his own life and what he becomes. That’s why I am sympathetic. I still root for Laurie to nail his ass to the wall of course, and everything he has done to hurt someone isn’t okay just because his life is unfair & awful & out of his control, but I still find him a very tragic character. He was canonically suffering violent psychosis his parents refused him treatment for, isolated with a monster as his doctor & only human contact for 15 years from age 6 on, overdosed on medications that when OD’d worsen psychosis symptoms and can cause permanent brain damage, and stuck like that until escaping briefly when he turned 21.

In Halloween canon, Michael tells his parents he hears voices telling him to do bad things like hurt people, but they tell him he is imagining stuff, and ignore his attempts to get help. The voices say they will be quiet, which is what he desperately wants, if he kills his sister Judith. So he does, at age six. Scientifically speaking, that’s literally too young to really have a complete grasp on death and mortality itself, let alone complex ethics. He immediately goes to his parents after doing the deed, so they can do whatever they need to do. Instead of getting him help, he is sentenced to 15 years in a 1960s American sanitorium (hell), until he turns 21 and can be tried for murder as an adult (fucking ridiculous and unfair?? Tried as an adult is for like, upper teens who commit heinous murders. How tf you justify trying a six year old literally too young to really understand murder as an adult for murdering someone??). They give him to Dr. Sam Loomis, a fucking horrible person, who says he spends 8 years trying to help Michael (a fkn lie), but canonically by only a few months of meeting the kid is thoroughly convinced he is evil, the devil or a demon in human form, faking his psychosis and side effect symptoms (trauma induced mutism from killing his sister, onset of catatonia/motion loss symptoms, etc, all of which are common with his disorder & trauma), desperate to kill again, and an evil mastermind doing the devil’s work, and says so. Spends four hours every day accusing Michael as a six year old child on, of planning to do horrible things and faking his illness and being a demon and not a human, and Loomis, from age 6 to 21, is this kid’s only human contact. And the staff knew it and how wrong and disturbed Loomis was, but did nothing. So from age 6 to 21—barring one or two visits from his mom & Laurie before his dad beat 4 year old Laurie for saying Michael’s, who he hated after Judith’s death, name—until she trauma blocked out having had a brother or sister at all, and then both parents died in a car crash—his only human contact in complete isolation was an adult man who told him for four hours a day he was an evil lying demon faking his symptoms and plotting murder and not a human and promised he would kill Michael and stop him, from childhood on, and that was it. He was never given an understanding of what was medically wrong with him, or that anything was at all. He was threatened and abused and kept overdosed on drugs for 15 years since early childhood, and his only understanding of the world taught in that absolute isolation, was that he was a demon who wanted to get out and kill again. And the violent psychosis, telling him if he killed both sisters, they would go away and leave him in peace with no more constant noise. With no normal understanding of the world or people or life like he was owed ever given to him, no understanding at all of what you were going through or were aside from the promise drilled into your head you were a monster who wanted to kill every day for 15 years while drugged up? Like, I’m a firm believe people are responsible for their own actions, but in a case as extreme as that, honestly, how else was that ever going to even be able to end? You forget, as a child. Who you used to be. That’s beyond grooming even, it’s being grown in a lab for the sole purpose of someday walking out, taking a large kitchen knife, and killing Laurie Strode. And it’s tragic. It’s unfair. Halloween is a tragedy, not a horror film. It didn’t have to be that way. He wanted help. He asked for help. Loomis is directly and pretty much solely responsible for the lives lost in 1978. You know he won’t even call Michael “him”? The only human he contact he had since age six on called him “it.” And no one stopped any of that. And even then. Even then, even with all that. With the drugs, and the lab grown killer, and all of it? Michael is pretty much the single least sadistic slasher killer there /is/.

Everyone he kills in Halloween? He kills fast. It’s actually kind of boring if you’re expecting a scary slasher, because there’s no chase until Laurie. He just appears, runs you through, and you die. Very fast. And if there is any emotion expressed towards the act of killing or aftermath, it’s not pleasure or hate or happiness, it’s curiosity, because literally everything is something he wasn’t allowed to experience growing up and just has no practical experience with yet. And on top of all that, he also just doesn’t kill people he doesn’t have to. He kills one man for clothes, kills Annie to re-do Judith’s murder since it didn’t work the first time and he needs both sisters for the voices to stop, and he kills Bob and Lynda becuase they stumble onto where he is & are a threat to success. (This + Judith 15 years prior is all the deaths in Halloween period, btw). Michael routinely only kills his target, and anyone who is a threat to success. Literally doesn’t even jump out to kill Bob or attack until Bob opens the door to the closet he was hiding in, and he has been seen. Walks past a security guard and lets him go in H20 becuase he doesn’t see him, steals keys from a mom with her 4 year old kid and doesn’t even hurt them because they don’t see him really either, steals a knife from an old lady making a sandwich who is one foot away but looking the other direction, so he lets her go. Even with all the possible stakes against him, really, Michael is like, the least cruel and most sympathetic and merciful version of that lab grown killer possible, which can only be a testament to the person he was initially/still somehow has managed to keep faint traces of alive inside.

As for Laurie finding him redeemable, answer is threefold I guess, and I’ll start with the most important. 1: in Halloween canon, Laurie cares for Michael and is incredibly sad about what he turned into and wishes he could be different (once she remembers who he is). That’s established canon, not a choice of mine. In Halloween 2, she tries to talk him down before shooting him, and he hesitates when she says his name and lowers his weapon for a moment. In H20, she talks about him a lot & even asks her boyfriend (a psychologist) if he thinks something so traumatic can happen to someone that they can never recover, bc even though she hasn’t seen him in 20 years, he’s still on her heart. She hesitates to kill him once she has him helpless in the finale, and when he reaches out for her hand, she almost cries and starts to reach back because it’s what she has truly wanted for so long. 2: Michael & Laurie are siblings, and that’s a very important relationship to me. Obviously, there’s lines where you cross, it’s fkn over, but it is special, and I’m weak for it. They were both cheated of the good family life they could have had, and I like characters I care for getting recovery and rehabilitation, and I would like them to be able to recover and have whatever fragments of the lives they wanted which are still possible. And then 3: Laurie is his victim, but they’re also both victims of Loomis, and the system, and her parents, and if she does /wish/ for him to be okay and things to be like they were, which was canon before me, so she does, then I think them finding happiness and her relief and new hope in regained family and him redemption and rehabilitation through the quite literally only person he has /ever/ known who treated him well or like even a human at all & is still living, that’s so good. It’s sweet, and it makes sense. I like broken people putting the pieces together and finding ways to be okay. None of the shit that happened to either of them was okay, and Michael sure did fucking do it, but it’s about as “it’s complicated” as literally possible, and Laurie wants him to be her brother again, and Michael deserves a chance to experience personhood enough to want anything like that again too, and I think it’s sweet. To be able to find happiness and peace and a new life in that rubble. It shouldn’t be possible, because Halloween is a tragedy that never gets a happy ending, no matter how many timelines they create or versions they tell, but I wish it could have one. It needs one. At least one, among all the fated tragedies for those two cruelly cursed siblings. They both had their lives stolen. Michael by Loomis, and Laurie by Michael. And I want them to find those stolen lives again. And if they can do it together, that’s a very odd and unusual set of circumstances for that kind of thing, but it’s a very complete way to tell the story. He tried to kill her, but if she asked him to stop and he stopped, if he himself chose to change on his own, when it really, really mattered—decided that it was what he wanted more than all the things he was before, and she decided that was enough, and they could both have a future as family? I like that. It’s a happy ending stolen back.

Long Frank Answer, in case you /have/ read ILM & thus short answer did not answer your question: So. Again, for me, I always talk about Frank as in the version of him I myself write, and I wrote ILM before the archives retcon, and also just ignore them because they’re usually dumb and blatantly contradict well established and longstanding canon. Even then, I usually don’t like Frank though—didn’t like him when I started writing ILM. But Frank has very little established canon character. All there is for sure is he was a foster kid that went through some bad stuff, he met Julie and changed his mind about desperately trying to be homed somewhere other than with Clive bc he liked Julie a lot, he met Susie and Joey, they became a gang chilling in Ormond’s abandoned lodge, then tried to rob a store Joey was fired from, were surprised by a cleaner who grabbed Julie, and Frank impulse stabbed him, freaked, and ordered the others to finish it with him and be in it together. Then before they’d even really finished burying the body, they got snagged. That leaves a whole lot of personality and thoughts and motivations and future choices and person wildly undetermined. Writing, sometimes characters just do their own thing completely out of my control, and I have to adapt. Frank chose not to kill Meg at the end of Tenacity, Adrenaline, & Grit, which surprised me, because he’d been nothing but a dipshit asshole bastard till one minute ago, but I knew it was because he recognized what she’d tried to do at great pain to herself because she wouldn’t bow down and die, and he connected/empathized or sympathized on some level. He also couldn’t go through with killing Quentin immediately after being helped by him in Distortion/Iron Maiden. Neither was like, planned. It’s just who the character was. I was frustrated. I did not want to like or feel sympathy for Frank at all. Then in The Lost, Jeff just fkn hijacked the whole plot and added 20 pages not in the outline because he wanted to be kind to Frank & it’s not like I can stop characters when they do whatever they do. And while writing it, I got to know that the version of Frank Morrison in the world I was writing—which is always the version I refer to/think of him as & write now myself—was not somebody past saving. He’s a piece of shit and he’s done fucked up and inexcusable stuff, and he pays for it. In many ways, Frank gets away with a lot over the course of ILM, but it’s always because characters choose on their own to forgive him, not because they or he doesn’t think it was fucked. And Frank suffers—a lot—for his choices, and has to live through appropriate and large amounts of regret and remorse about stuff he did before the end. He gets the chance to make better choices several times, and mostly he doesn’t. He continues to fuck up. But right near the end, he makes a couple good decisions when it’s down to the wire, sees where his bad choices got him and what he has to live with, and then he does live with it. He almost dies, and then ends up falling on Jeff’s mercy, which he knows he doesn’t deserve and doesn’t expect to get, for a last chance to make it, and because Jeff is an ungodly kind and forgiving soul, he makes it.

Frank isn’t a good person, and he does a lot of stuff that isn’t remotely okay or justified or excused, but he /is/ a kid—the upper end of it, but he’s not a full grown adult. He has every reason to believe nothing of himself or others, a fucked up childhood and life which isn’t his fault, and the Entity got all four Legion kids before they’d even had time to process the one and only violent crime they did (which was unplanned), and it is historically running a PHD in psychological warfare vs everyone. Absolutely none of that excuses or justifies him, but it is an explanation for some of it that is not as bad as say, doing that shit for fun or cruelty or hate or what have you, which makes him a bad person, but one with a lot more humanity left than say, Kenneth. Who is at -100 or something. If he’s still got a lot of humanity left, that means he could be redeemed, and he eventually chooses that path for himself and hits the appropriate “I did something horrible. Fuck. It was really bad. I should not have done it.” “I am really sorry I did this. I feel awful. I’m sorry.” “I cant change it, but I can try to do better and make whatever reparations I can.” “I want to be better, and I am going to try.” necessary stages of actually trying to improve. So, I like him. He did a lot of really awful shit that wasn’t okay, but he was never without sympathetic elements. He does love his friends and his girlfriend, he is a good boyfriend to Julie and selfless towards her and his crew (overall anyway—has even risked death for them very willingly, even the one who was fighting with/kinda hated him), will keep his word in deals and has some semblance of both sympathy and honor, feels guilt, is a kid, did not choose this life but was rather catapulted into it and too weak to climb out once he landed in the mud. All of that together makes him someone I feel sympathy towards and find quite redeemable, so long as he will decide he wants that, which, in ILM, he does. If you just meant Frank in general then idk how to answer because there’s not much established Frank period it’s kinda a shell like all original dead by daylight characters, and I have no thoughts on it by itself because it’s not a whole person, and so I really only think of Frank as ILM verse Frank now.

#ask #sleepy #hope this is coherant. I love answering but I’m also on vacation trip rn so I’m not proofreading & u get what u get 🤣 adds flavor #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #spoilers #ILM spoilers #Halloween #dead by daylight #long post #Michel is not the villain of Halloween: he and Laurie are both the victims & it’s a fkn Greek tragedy #they both deserved so much more than the lives they were thrown into #: (#sad now just thinkin bout it

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morning-star-57 · 5 years ago

Text

Miraculous Quirk AU

Idk if someone has already done this but here we go!

So, I recently got into Boku no Hero Academia and I got to thinking, what if the Miraculous universe was set in the same one as Bnha?

So, those of us who watch Bnha know the drill, 80% of the population has superpowers, called “quirks.” The other 20% are “quirkless.” So here’s how it would play out in my brain.

Super duper long, oops, so under the cut!

Miraculous:

works pretty much the same way as canon

only doesn’t give you a suit the holder picks that themselves

they work similar to One For All does in Bnha

the power of the previous owner fuels the power of the miraculous and the previous user can still use the power, but a weakened version of it

Ladybug miraculous gives the holder the power to create things and heal

Black Cat miraculous gives the power to destroy things with a touch (at will)

And so on, pretty much like canon but with some modifications

Marinette

was born quirkless

when she was younger, kids (cough Chloe cough) would make fun of her for it

was insecure about it for a long time and then saw all of the ways that quirks could backfire and decided it wasn’t worth it and it no longer bothers her (much)

(seeing Chloe blind herself was funny tho, even if it was temporary)

still wants to be a fashion designer

wary of superheros because of all of that property damage and also some of them are lowkey sus.

parents still own a bakery

Sabine’s quirk is levitation. She can make items and people float with her mind but they have to be things she can physically lift (it’s okay tho cause she’s smol but strong). The drawback is that she gets really bad headaches and if she uses it too much or for too long, she can get a migraine.

Tom has a smaller, tamer version of pyrokinesis. He can’t make his entire body burst into flame but he can make certain parts, like his hands. He has a naturally high resistance to extreme weathers as his body heat is unusally high (hugs from him during the summer are bittersweet b/c he’s a great hugger but it’s too damn HOT DAD GET OFF-). The drawback is that he can’t control the temperature of the flame so if he’s not careful or if he uses his quirk for too long, it’ll burn him. His arms have many burn scars, rip.

back to Marinette

Decided the Hero Life wasn’t for her but still supports her friends who want to do it

Until she met the Lucky Hero, Tikki, her favorite

After plot happens, Tikki gives her the source of her “quirk”, the miraculous, and entrusts Marinette to carry on her legacy

Lots of angsty turmoil before she accepts the miraculous and decided to become a hero.

Chooses to be named the Ladybug, same as canon

Her hero costume would be the same as canon AT FIRST since her decision to go to a hero school was last minute af but then the suit will go through modifications to better suit her power needs and fashion needs

Got through the entrance exam after training with Tikki and because she’s badass shh

Doesn’t get a crush on Adrien until later once they’re already friends (or at all really idk yet)

Adrien

was the result of a quirk marriage

was the *failed result of a quirk marriage

Instead of inheriting both quirks of his parents, like intended, they combined and created a new one

His quirk is Charm. His body releases an invisible pheromone that makes him seem more attractive or trustworthy, sometimes both, depending on the person who smells it. This makes the “victim” more susceptible to his suggestions, but it’s not a total brainwash, unlike his father, so they can still easily fight it off if they wanted to. The drawbacks are that he can’t really stop it so he has to be constantly covered so that he doesn’t accidentally charm everyone. Also, after a while, people can build up tolerance to him and it won’t work as strongly on them.

Gabriel has Brainwash, which is often seen as a villain’s quirk. Everyone is thankful the he decided on fashion as a career and not villainy (oh those poor naive souls). If he looks into your eyes, you are put in his control and won’t be able to fight it unless he lets you go or if you receive a blunt impact to the head. The drawbacks are that he can’t control it so anyone who he makes eye contact with gets brainwashed unless there’s an obstacle in the way i.e.: glasses

Emilie’s quirk is sleep gas. Her skin cells naturally produce a gas that can put people in a coma-like state. The drawbacks are, again, can’t turn it off and the person has to be within range. She also has to be constantly covered.

Adrien wanted to be a hero at first to spite his father

Gabriel always hated heroes and saw them as a nuisance.

So Adrien basically said “fuck you, I’m going to be the best hero because I can”

And somehow convinced his dad to enroll him in College Francois Dupont, a local hero school

(he acutally just charmed him cause his dad isn’t around him enough to build up immunity to his quirk but shh)

He gets in through recommendations and is put in the hero course

This version of Adrien was still childhood friends with Chloe (who is immune to him) and a lot more distrustful of people, especially if they’re nice since he has no way of know if they’re genuinely a nice person or if they just fell prey to his quirk

rip the sunshine boy he has no friends except Chloe for the first few weeks of class

Becomes friends with Nino after they got paired up in a fight simulation

The slowly gets more comfortable around people and becomes more open to friendships

Doesn’t get the Black Cat Miraculous until much, much later when the Squad gets caught up in a fight with villains and the Unlucky Hero, Plagg (Tikki’s partner and husband) decides to entrust him with it

Impulsive chaotic gremlin that gets threatened to be put on a leash made by Marinette

Chloe

also the result of a quirk marriage, this one being successful

Her quirk is called Diamond. Her skin has an extra layer that acts very similarly to an actual diamond so she can reflect, refract, and disperse light. This layer can also harden at her will so that she can become a semi-indestructible prism. Her body’s reaction to light intensifies while in this state. The drawbacks are that while her body is hardened, she cannot move easily and her speed will be greatly reduced. Also, her skin is just very sparkly almost all of the time which makes it hard to hide from villains and to see when it’s sunny out. Usually wear large sunhats and sunglasses to try and reduce the shine

Her and Adrien bond by being products of a quirk marriage

also got in through recommendation and everyone thinks she bought her way in but actually tried very hard to earn her spot

is VERY protective over Adrien and will blind someone if they say anything she deems offensive

She and Marinette practically hate each other on a good day before they were forced to hang out since Adrien kept bringing Chloe along with him whenever the Squad would get into shenanigans

They developed a mutual agreement to be civil at one point and that slowly turned into friendship

Y’know the type of friends that insult each other and fight over every small thing but the second someone else tries to come for the other they won’t h e s i t a t e BITCH

yeah that’s them

anyways, I digress

Is surprisingly the sensible one of the group

“no you cannot run headfirst into the fight Adrien, these are actual villains and you can’t even pass a simulation without dumb luck.”

“I don’t care if your quirk can heal you Marinette, stop jumping off of rooftops and go down the stairs like a normal person!”

“Put it down, Nino.”

“Luka. No.”

you get the idea

she is Mom

Says she wants to be a hero because hero’s are cool and she’s cool so it just makes sense for her to be a hero

(actually though because she wanted to make her mother proud of her but you didn’t hear it from me)

Is lowkey really powerful and if she tried to use the full extent of her powers, she’d be a beast

but don’t tell her that, she’s already got a big head

Luka

is working towards becoming an underground hero

His quirk is sound amplification. He amplifies preexisting sound waves to what ever frequency is needed. Depending on the frequency, he can break through almost any object. The drawback is that sound waves can damage his hearing and can become temporarily deaf if he uses it too long or if he creates a frequency that’s too high for his body to handle. Has a chance of becoming permanently deaf if he overuses his quirk too many times

His suit comes with modifications to help with that so he should be fine he hopes

His guitar doubles as a weapon since he usually amplifies whatever chord he plays

Already has his provisional hero licence

is still really chill

is one of the first to figure out Marinette’s secret but is a good boi so he doesn’t tell

you’d think that being the oldest of the group he’d be the sensible one but nope

is accidentally the one that encourages shenanigans

Luka, innocently: Hey, did you know that the teachers don’t lock up the sim rooms?

Chloe: *Death glare*

Luka: *nervous confusion*

the one who encouraged Juleka to go for the hero course

Nino

Adrien’s best friend, just like canon

started out as general studies since he wasn’t sure if he was good enough to be a hero but a teacher saw his potential and was transferred into the hero course

His quirk is time reduction. He can slow time or even stop it completely if he concentrates very hard, allowing him to get one place to the next in literally no time at all. He used to think it was super speed because this but found out what it really was when he tried to save a cat from being run over and stopped time. He can also stop only certain objects in time but that takes up more energy. The drawback is that if he overuses his quirk he starts to speed up his own time in order to compensate for the time he’s losing so he becomes very tired and after “3 hours” of his own time passed he will pass out from exhaustion. Also, he can only manipulate the time within his quirk’s range which can go up to about the size of an american football field (160 feet/49) meters.

is super insecure of his quirk because he thinks it’s not as cool as everyone else’s

they make sure to let him know that that’s bs and he’s very cool

feeds off of Adiren’s chaotic energy during simulations

has been put in timeout by Chloe when this happens

will stop time to bask in the moment

gets emotional during this

there have been many times where the Squad is chilling and suddenly everyone just sees Nino sobbing

group hugs ensue

Adrien, probably: “Chloe get your shiny ass in the cuddle pile or so help me-!”

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I’ll make a part two since this is already so long, but that’s it for now! What do y’all think?

Part 2 is now up!

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupen chang #chloe bourgeois #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #luka couffaine #ml x bnha #ml au idea #ml au #quirk au #miraculous quirk au

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tarajenkins · 5 years ago

Text

It’s me, of course I have thoughts on the MSQ , be warned there are all the spoilers below the cut

First up is--surprise!--Eulmore!

I was pretty hype hype af when I learned we were going to meet the adviser to Vauthry's father. I was sure we were going to finally get some truth out about what the dickpickle let Emet-Selch do to his wife and unborn son. Instead, we got to hear him elevated to the source of "the good old days" of Eulmore -- even though he was uncaring of casualties in the Echo flashback, even though he was bad enough at his job the citizenry was being stirred up against him, and he wanted to rule not just Eulmore, but the world, in his words.

And then we just got to stand by and /smile and /nod while everyone else laid all the blame on one of Emet-Selch’s biggest victims once again. (seriously, I will never be stop being skeeved how The Men(tm) discussed the wife’s bodily autonomy while she stood right there, looking terrified) It didn’t feel heroic, at all, just as it didn’t feel heroic how politely we dismissed the man who bought Yotsuyu and pressed her into prostitution. The narrative at least afforded Yotsuyu sympathy. I have never seen a character in this game dehumanized quite so hard as Vauthry. Meanwhile, the one who corrupted him is the fandom darling. I’d wonder why that is, but I know, and it’s depressing that is even a thing in this the year 2019.

I still do not get the reasoning behind blaming Vauthry for his actions, the one other excuse I see given for not empathizing with his plight. Claiming he is fully culpable is like blaming Thancred for the massacre at the Waking Sands. I'm not entirely sure why Vauthry should be held to a different standard than literally every other character who has been corrupted by the sin eaters.

The writers were at least very clear to establish he was physically and mentally corrupted by the Lightwarden wedged directly in his chest (on the heart side, interestingly), from the moment we met him. In the Japanese, he even shares Titania’s speech pattern, to indicate he is also “off” like they were. How could he be expected to have true control when no one else in the same situation -- not even the WoL, at the end, without intervention -- did? We're to forgive the Eulmoran nobility for being "influenced" by him, despite their having free will the entire time before we went to fight him -- but we then completely ignore he was influenced corrupted before he was even born? By a Lightwarden, that no one short of the WoL had a chance of resisting--and the WoL would have destroyed worlds, had they lost control. Would the WoL have been responsible for that, would the destruction have been their (evil) informed decision -- or the inability to resist the instincts/will of the Lightwardens?

tl;dr: It would really be nice to let it be known who the actual bad guys were. If not Emet-Selch, because explaining Ascians is complicated, then certainly Vauthry's father, rather than elevate that man to "the good old days" of Eulmore. They used a woman like an animal to turn her infant into a monster. To sweep that under the rug is the last thing I'd expect from a "hero". :s

I had to laugh that no one wanted Vauthry’s responsibilities for running the city to the point Nuzz had to be shoehorned into the role, though. And he and Dulia had some really cute squishy moments. Press f for Nuzz’s pelvis lmao

It has inspired me to do some spicy Chai arts I hope to finish soon. >>

Square is just blatantly pushing the pixel fanservice with Kai-Shirr’s deliveries, though. Getting Eulmore’s agriculture and military up and running again are dire concerns, but we are first going to focus on turning the place into a tourist trap with....an adult nightclub. Eulmore seems to be the only place in the First with airships, useful for many things, and therefore highly lucrative, but we’re....going to help with the nightclub. Alphinaud is going to faint dead away, get those Ondo pearls ready for clutching!

I loved the new dungeon and Beq Lugg, although they killed me a lot, and I am really glad the Afflicted have a chance at recovery. I am also really jazzed the canon theories for helping them out turned out to be almost identical to the theories @onewonderfulbug and I used in our RP with Unna, in her quest to separate her patron from the Lightwarden. I agonized for weeks I was not being clever enough, lmao (except her method is science-based, not “porxie”-based. Alisae ilu and I WANT TO BELIEVE but)

Speaking of Alisae, I really love they are making the Scions so much more personable, though it will cost Alphinaud his life.

An Lad seems to be Titania reborn, and I am so glad at least one of the Lightwarden-corrupted characters survived, in a way. Sad they might not remember their old life, though. :s Speaking of reincarnations, Asahi, gtfo. Datamining confirmed that is his face under the mysterious “dog’s” hood. It has to be someone just borrowing his face, but why was Yotsuyu killed off and this twerp given ANY other sort of screen time is beyond me. I am NOT a Zenos fan, lmao. I love his nose but I hate his complete lack of depth. Maybe it will get better, but not counting on it. what the fuck was even that proto-Ultima thing, jfc how horrifying. Also as a non-Dragoon and a scrub ffffffuck your animation locks Estinien. >:C I unlocked the raid but I am full of fear. Amazing music though! ALSO FORGIVEN CRUELTY MOUNT, UNNA GONNA SIT HER BUTT ON IT SOON AS SHE GETS HER HANDS ON NUTSY’S SACKS I am so sorry for making you read that with your eyes She went to NG+ immediately, to forever wallow in the time things hurt slightly less. :(

#FFXIV #5.1 spoilers #Shadowbringers #Vauthry

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sapphic-sedai · 4 years ago

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Good morning :) Here we go! Definitely a ⭐ so you can pick what you wanna talk about for "A Witch by Another Name". And additionally, I wanna hear how you came up with the connection of Zelda and Dorothea and the furs, because I canNOT unsee that now. AND please tell me your process and ideas of coming up with your headcanon for the dynamic between the Spellman siblings and especially between Hilda and Zelda and how they are treated by their parents! Thank you :D

Good morning!!!!! <3<3<3 Bless you’re entire soul!

This is going to be LONG and also TW: Domestic Violence!

Story Conception (I’m using the star for this one):

I came up with the idea for this because in some episode Theo mentions that Dorothea knew the Spellman’s were witches and I was like “HOW WOULD SHE KNOW THAT??!?” and then the Zelda in the back of my head was like “!!!!!!!!!! Well....” and alas here we are now because things just kept fitting into Canon the longer I thought about them.

Things for instance like:

- Zelda knowing how to shoot a gun.

- Zelda’s furs

WHICH also struck me because she doesn’t wear them all the time in the show, but when she does, they almost seemed like armor to me (off the top of my head she wears some when Sabrina leaves home for the school, which means she isn’t under Zelda’s roof (and protection) for the first time, and when Ambrose is on trial for the death of the Anti-Pope). That would have to mean they were significant to her in order for them to be used to give her a semblance of protection - therefore, since Dorothea is a hunter and doesn’t have much else physically to give, I decided that’s where they must have come from.

The Spellman Family/ Sisters Dynamic:

Now, this one is not as fun or happy as Dorothea’s furs and I promise it brings me no distress to talk about it, but I modeled the Spellman family relationship after my own family’s.

(I have gone through 4 years of therapy and my family has taken many positive turns so this is mostly in the past - therefore not damaging to write about (EVERYONE SHOULD GO TO THERAPY (I know financially this isn’t always possibly but mine was already included in my state’s college fees so there are some loopholes through other things sometimes)

Zelda shows clear signs of residual abuse throughout the show. She’s hyper sexual (likely due to sexual abuse), she’s verbally abusive (likely due to verbal abuse), she’s physically abusive to Hilda (likely due to physical abuse to her), her first instinct is to mother (which could be just a maternal instinct, but also because she was a third parent to Hilda), and I’m sure there are other’s that I’m not thinking of off the top of my head, but that being said - yikes.

When people are abused they tend to lash out and do what was done to them unless they stop the cycle (which in the show we see Zelda actively start doing after her Batibat dream - Batibat was Zelda’s therapy lmao)

I see a lot of Zelda and Hilda’s relationship mirrored in my youngest brother and my sister’s behaviour. My father targeted my youngest brother in his physical absuse and because of that my youngest brother would abuse my sister. He didn’t know how to deal with the rage that manifested in his body and mind from being hurt and therefore lashed out at the weakest link because she couldn’t fight him back. (Zelda and Hilda)

I did a lot of protecting (Edward) and once almost really paid for it and now I feel obligated towards activism work in it’s many forms (Edwards Manifesto). When you watch abuse happening there are two ways to respond.

You can try to stop it (unfortunately I had very little power in my situations, but its nice to write Edward who has more and can actually do something like in that last chapter) or you can just observe (which I was forced to most of the time due to a lack of power and was my mother’s drug of choice (mirrored in Francis Spellman (their mother) - this goes hand in hand with a denial of what is happening and victim blaming (mirror in the last chapter) “if you wouldn’t do ___ then ____ wouldn’t happen.” even though that’s not technically true, the abuser will still abuse because they need to feel powerful.

I believe Hilda harbors no ill feelings towards Zelda and continues to forgive her because she’s witnessed the abuse (mirrored in the story) she sees what happens to Zelda and she can connect the chain of abuse with no problem. My sister and brother get along very well now that my brother has stopped the chain of abuse. It was never about hating her - it was about trying to relieve the pain he was feeling and I feel the same is true for Zelda and Hilda.

Finally, Edward and Zelda. I’m jealous AF that they both had a partner to maneuver through this family situation. Zelda has an undying adoration for her brother as we see through the show - I think this is because he was her protector in many ways. I also think this is because he was the only one that saw her as an equal. The show drops lines (from Zelda) that he had her review his manifesto (this means he wanted her approval specifically for it) and (from Sabrina) that Zelda raised Sabrina to believe she could rise to the ranks of High Priestess if she wanted (despite the rest of the coven “rules” as dictated by Faustus even in season 1 clearly stating otherwise).

I believe that Edward’s manifesto was written for all witches, but specifically for his sisters. He specifically mentions “witches rights” in the clauses (twice if i can remember right) which means there are none and he wants to fix that. His manifesto is also very personal (as exhibited through Diana and his relationship) so it only makes sense that witch’s rights are also a deeply personal issue to him.

All of this is a long winded way to say - I’m comforted whenever people don’t quite understand Zelda and her abusive tendencies, or when they talk about domestic violence as a thing of the past because that means they’ve never experienced it and personally, my life was very different only 2 years ago and I can literally tick off a lot of Zelda’s personality traits mirrored in my own tendencies due to these experiences.

Through Dorothea she gets an escape from all of this and I cherish it for her. Dorothea is a force in her life that gives her a lot of bravery as she moves forward. She learns she can fight back (and we see her beginning to) and she gets to experience more softness (even if it’s short lived) and that’s what I love about Zelda in this story.

Thank you so much for the asks!!!!! I appreciate you and everyone else who’s read “A Witch By Another Name” and I hope you all continue to enjoy it!! I have some great things coming!!!! <3<3<3<3<3

#a witch by another name #asks #personal

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ranjxtul · 5 years ago

Text

Fire and Reign: Necromancy

Finally, we have witches au chapter four! I am so sorry for the delay here, and for the length. It’s a bit shorter than usual, but the next chapter will be action packed! I don’t think there are TWs for this chapter, so enjoy loves

Ao3 Link https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249039/chapters/47313391

“Find anything else since we last talked?” Called Aragon as she made her way into the greenhouse with a mug of coffee in her hand, eyes still bleary from sleep.

A sleep deprived, but alert Catherine Parr glanced up to her godmother worriedly, it was abnormal for her to be up this early. She glanced at the clock. It was only eight. Usually Aragon awoke around an hour later, looking much less frazzled. Stray curls stuck out at angles and she still wore her pajamas.

Catherine frowned then, at the question asked. In reality, she hadn’t been able to uncover anything new, even with the help of the American Supreme. “You’re up earlier than usual,” she nodded, completely avoiding the subject as a whole.

“Didn’t want to sleep in,” Aragon shrugged, quickly dispelling any further discussion on the topic. Parr nodded, knowing when she didn’t want to broach a topic.

“What about Henry? I need to know if we have anything new,” An unspoken, ‘I have to do something,’ stayed in her head. Aragon tried again. Since Anne’s sighting the previous night, she’d practically been on hyperdrive. Sleep had been fitful and erratic because all she could do was contemplate possible avenues, and who his next victim might be.

Realistically, it could be anyone in London. The lack of knowledge concerning witches and the secrecy put blinders on most people, including young witches themselves. As a result, Henry’s scope of possible victims had much greater magnitude than she would have liked.

Finding witches and protecting them would be ideal; however, Catherine knew the semantics of that plan were much more complex in practice. Finding young witches was about as difficult as finding a needle in a haystack, unless of course you were finding their mangled corpses, she thought bitterly to herself.

Parr observed the other woman, the clipped question’s brittle tone bounced off of her. She could only imagine what it would be like to be in the Supreme’s shoes. As a child, she’d dreamt about the idea of being the Supreme and being trusted to lead, but as she’d grown to understand what the job entailed, she realized she didn’t want that. She wanted to care for her coven, but her decisions couldn’t be the difference between life or death. She understood Catherine’s stress, and if she was honest, everyone in the house now felt it.

Shockwaves of the harsh reality that Henry was ready to kill, hadn’t settled easily among any of the queens. All of them had known in a certain capacity it was true, but there was something about the casual encounter that reminded everyone of the immanence in the situation.

“No,” Parr finally answered. “I’ve done just about everything I can, and contacted the Supremes in Spain, France, and Germany. They never linked the killings even. It seems like whoever’s employing him was moving him around or giving him spot kills there, but of course I have no evidence to back that up. It’s purely assumption, and he’s smart. He doesn’t leave a paper trail or physical evidence. If we knew a last name it could be helpful, but even then I'm not sure we’d have anything concrete,” she admitted with a regretful shrug.

“So we’re stuck?” Aragon asked, her mouth falling into a thin line as she wracked her brain for anything helpful. Nothing. Then it hit her, his victims were the key. “Do you think that he’s killed everyone here in the same location? Or at least remotely so,” she added.

Parr tilted her head, “Probably, he seems consistent in London.”

“Great. That’s all I needed to know,” Aragon nodded, a small smile replacing the frustration, a bit self satisfied with her own idea. “I’ll talk to you later, love, but I think I might have an idea of something we can do.”

Catherine raised an eyebrow in shock but nodded, “See you later then.” Aragon turned to exit the greenhouse and return to her office. First things first, she had to do some research of her own, then she needed to speak to the council.

She wasn’t sure she had the proper books in her office, Most likely, she’d have to search the attic.. Necromancy as a whole was risky business, and when done wrong, things could go south in the blink of an eye. Of course Aragon was competent enough to perform the type of magic properly, but not without proper research. The last Supreme, her mother, coincidentally, had always had a bit of an interest in the darker aspects of magic and the more ‘forbidden’ things.

For example, Catherine vividly remembered her mother practicing descensum frequently. She’d later explained she’d only done so in an attempt to understand hell and understand who and what lived down there. Aragon herself had never had much of an interest as a result.

She understood the consequences of failing descensum. One would be trapped in hell and their body would disintegrate. No matter if they beat their personal hell, if they didn’t bring themselves back in time they’d be gone. She hated that her mother ran that risk so often, and for what? As far as Aragon was concerned there were no practical purposes, as understanding hell was futile.

Catherine’s own experience with descensum had been as she’d expected: hellish. Her hell consisted of the coven disowning her and her being thrown to the streets only to have Henry and his manipulative, vindictive ways waiting for her outside the doors. No one thought she’d make it back in time, and truthfully she’d only just made it back before dawn, panting and panicked she’d bolted up. How did anyone get used to beating their hell and how did anyone do it regularly? The concept baffled her.

Her mother had fittingly also been interested in learning about necromancy, which granted was a lot less dangerous than casually practicing descensum. It couldn’t directly destroy the caster, but any number of bad outcomes could occur without understanding how to properly control such magic and without knowing exactly whom one was contacting. At one point, Catherine had a mild interest in the basics, but quickly strayed away from it once she began to understand the negative consequences: it could put those she cared about in danger.

Now it seemed she’d have to return to her old interest and ignore the overly analytical and cautious voices in her head that told her necromancy was a bad idea. Upon a small browsing of her office shelves, unsurprisingly, she found nothing of use. With a short sigh of impatience, she turned to traipse her way up the stairs to the attic.

Upon pushing the door open, she observed Jane’s workspace. Books sat strewn on the table’s surface and pages of notes sat stacked in one corner. Her stones sat atop one open book and a separate sheet of notes sat beside the stones. Part of Aragon felt inclined to see what Jane had been working on, but she stopped, reminding herself that Jane would let her know when the time was right.

Instead, she made her way toward the dust covered boxes containing her mother’s old books. She went through two boxes before she found what she needed: books on the foundations and extended applications of necromancy. Now that she had the books she could hopefully find what she needed. And once the adequate research was done she could call the council and see if they approved of her plan. Back to her office to read, it seemed.

By the time she finished relaying the cornerstones of her reading and in detail her plan, Anna and Jane each had their own looks of shock and intrigue on their face.

“Do you think that’ll work?” Asked Jane.

“The magic or the plan?” Anne countered the blonde as if Jane’s question hadn’t been directed at Catherine. She was caught up in the semantics and possible dangers of what Aragon her proposed to even question effectiveness yet.

Jane glanced at the short haired woman beside her, “I was addressing both actually. Messing with necromancy can be dangerous, and in practice this plan is basically built on assumptions.”

Aragon cut in, “I know the dangers, but we’re at a practical roadblock on learning anything else. We haven’t been able to ID any of his victims easily, and I’ve had Cathy doing some research for me. She’s also been unable to find anything else. If my hunch is right, then this could get us somewhere,” she insisted.

“But if something were to go horribly wrong, for example, you could contact the wrong spirit, and set something free or be unable to contain it. There’s also physical safety to take into account when you think of this. What if someone happened upon you?”

“I’m planning to take Anne with me. You know she’s not easily scared off by a task, and should something happen she knows how to fight,” Catherine raised a brow. She understood Anna and Jane’s concern, she needed to do something. “As for what we talk to, I should be able to contain it. I’m no novice,” she added with a hint of mirth in an attempt to lighten the mood.

The other two women shared a weary look, ultimately Aragon did have a final say in what she did. They hadn’t had to have been called in, which meant she most likely wanted their support and help ironing out details of the plan. “So, when do you want to leave?” Jane asked after a moment’s silence. She could feel waves of urgency and underlying anxiety radiating off the Supreme potently.

“I’d like to go tonight. The sooner the better, and around ten. There’s no need to cause more disruption than normal,” she shrugged, a bit relieved the two relented in the doubts at least verbally. When she listened to their thoughts, she could hear the doubts screaming loudly. That was a confidence boost for sure.

“I’d suggest later. If your location’s right, you could have a chance of running into him if he’s found a victim,” Jane pointed out tilting her head.

“Go after midnight,” Anna suggested directly after Jane spoke.

The other two were right, an earlier time was a gamble. Well, in reality, this whole trip was a gamble. She only nodded though, “Brilliant idea.”

The girls were absolutely correct. This could be fatal, useless, too much of a risk or all of the above. Catherine did her best to suppress the whirling thoughts of what that failure could be though. She had to do something about Henry, and in her mind, knowing the enemy was the first step to beating the enemy.

If they could gain the upperhand by learning more information about Henry Tudor before he gained more intel on them, they’d have the upperhand. So far, nonmagic routes hadn’t gleaned enough information. If she wasn’t desperate, she wouldn’t push less ‘safe’ options for informational purposes.

Truth be told, she was still shaken from the night before, and she was waiting on news from Maria that there’d been another victim. Realizing she’d spaced out for a moment, she shook her head in an attempt to play it off, “I’m going to find Anne. Make sure when we’re gone to hold down the fort, yeah?” she joked with a quiet laugh.

“Yes ma’am,” Anna jested back, accompanied by a nod and smile from Jane. With one final nod, Aragon slipped out of her office to search for Anne. The brunette would most likely be in her room or roaming about the house, considering it was nearing dinner. Luck seemed to be on Catherine’s side when she peeked into Anne’s room to see the other with a book open on her bed.

“Anne?” Catherine called quietly, so as not to startle Anne from her reading.

The brunette glanced up, her eyes wide for a second, until she recognized Catherine in the doorway. “Hm?” she hummed in response closing the book and pulling herself up.

“Mind if I come in first of all?”

“Be my guest,” Anne shrugged with a vague gesture to the room. With a nod, Aragon stepped into the messy room, maneuvering small piles of clothes or the several fallen objects on the floor. “What’s up?” Anne asked as Aragon made her way to sit down at the desk chair.

“I need a favor,” Aragon started with a deep breath.

“Oh?” Anne leaned forward curiously.

Simultaneously, in a pub in the city, two men sat at a corner booth. One had an angular jaw and sandy stubble dotting that same jaw. His grim face, contained smile lines only shown in malice. His accomplice sat across from him. This man’s features were polar the first man’s. His dark hair, dark eyes, and complimenting five o’clock shadow contrasted the light blonde man’s features. The similarities though, sat in the stone cold hollow eyes and in the understated intimidation of his muscular stature.

“You know,” the dark headed man started, “You can’t just keep waiting for them to do something. This wasn’t supposed to take as long as it has. I mean, three years? That’s excessive, even if they’re being wise Henry.”

The newly named Henry shook his head, “They’ll stop being careful soon enough, and that’s when I’ll catch them.”

“You were supposed to get in and take them out,” the second man persisted.

“I know, Thomas, but they were smarter than I anticipated!” his nostrils flared in a flash of irritation. “That’s completely on me though, I will admit. I shouldn’t have underestimated them.”

“At least we know what we know, and we have our inside contact, well if that’s what you call her,” Thomas shrugged, appraising his own words.

“She’s served her purpose, and continues to. She keeps up my wards and gives me information and I don’t kill her,” he shrugged in return as if what he said were the simplest agreement ever.

“Speaking of which, has she turned up anything new?” Thomas asked in curiosity.

“Katherine Howard, the one about a week ago is alive. Anne got her out of there apparently.”

The other man’s eyes lit up in recognition, “Howard?”

Henry narrowed his eyes, “Yeah, you know her?”

Quickly, realizing his sudden interest hadn’t been inconspicuous, Thomas forced himself to sit back, “Heard the name before.”

An obvious lie, but Henry didn’t care to push it. Instead he pushed forward, “Last night was an easy one. She was young, sixteen, and out too late for her own good. If only the others were as easy. God, it still baffles me that Catherine is the leader, and that Anne is alive. Of course now it all makes sense, knowing Jane’s a healer. If only I’d gotten that much out of her that night. I was so close to nipping the problem in the bud with her,” he shook his head, thinking of the drunken night Jane had begun to divulge the London coven’s secrets when he’d been with her.

“And now you have baggage now. What’ll you do with the son once you deal with everyone else?” Thomas asked.

“Eh, haven’t really thought about it. There are merits to getting rid of him with his mother or keeping him. We’ll see how everything pans out, then I’ll deal with it all.” In one statement, Henry Tudor had revealed truly how little he cared for life. He cared for manipulation, ease, and power above all else.

While Thomas definitely was unbothered by murder, the idea of murdering a baby didn’t settle well with him. The kid hadn’t had much of a chance to live. It must have shown on his face because Henry’s face hardened, “You got a problem with that?” he asked carefully, his brow raised.

Forcing his expression back to neutral, Culpeper shook his head. He had more interest in Katherine Howard, even if murdering an infant didn’t sit well. He wouldn’t have a part of it bothered him so much. All he cared about was seeing Katherine again.

“Good. Can you go take care of the body from last night sometime tonight?” Henry continued.

“Always sending me to do your dirty work, eh?” Thomas scoffed. “Yeah, sure.”

#catherine of aragon #six the musical #catherine parr #anne boleyn #anne of cleves #jane seymour #katherine howard

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