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krazykiki05 · 2 years ago

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The Alienist Drabble:

“Are you absolutely serious!?”

“It was an accident!”

“It better have been!”

The discussion between the five adults was abruptly interrupted once they heard shouting from the kitchen. All the guests look at the owner of the house. It was his ward and servant arguing. Dr. Kriezler sighs before excusing himself to deal with the mess.

“What is such a pressing matter that you two must shout!? We can hear you!” Laszlo chastises, shouting himself. Stevie looks petrified while Cyrus looks pissed. But neither of them speak. “Well?” Cyrus looks at Stevie. Stevie shakes his head to his supposed friend.

“Nothing, Doctor. Just a quarrel.” Stevie mumbles. The Alienist knew he was lying the very moment he took the breath to speak.

“Don’t lie to me Stevie. You two have had quarrels in the past. They have never ended in shouting matches.” Laszlo snaps. “Cyrus. I trust you to tell me the truth.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not my place to tell, Doctor.” The doctor sighs before turning back to Stevie. If looks could kill, the boy would be dead. And that’s just what prompted him to speak up.

“I...got a girl pregnant.” He says. Cyrus hides his face in his hands while Laszlo sighs and bows his head. Stevie stands there ashamed.

“Are you sure?” Laszlo asks. Stevie nods.

“Yeah. She said she was late, and she looks pretty sick doc.” Laszlo thinks for a moment.

“What does she want? Money? Does she know you’re a ward of a doctor?” Laszlo interrogates.

“No! No. She doesn't want money or anything! She wasn’t going to even tell me until I asked her about her illness. She doesn’t want it, Doc. She doesn’t plan on going through with the pregnancy….” Stevie trails off.

“What do her parents think!?”

“She doesn’t have any. She ran away from them because they were abusive. Been living on the streets for months now.”

“And how old is she?” Cyrus asks.

“15…” Stevie is 17. A pregnant 15 year old, a sharp pang stabs through Dr. Kriezler’s heart. Still a child.

“And the baby...Do you want it, Stevie?” Laszlo asks. Stevie hesitates.

“Would I be a monster to say I don’t want it either?” Laszlo shakes his head no. Stevei was still young. It’s perfectly normal to not want children at this age. Laszlo feels bad for turning a blind eye to a pregnant, homeless, child.

“Bring her here. Now. I want to help her.” Stevie looked hesitant. But nonetheless, he left. Laszlo sighs once more. He and Cryus share a look.

“Was there a problem?” Sara asks once Laszlo returned.

“Yes, and it shall be resolved soon. I hope.” Laszlo answers vaguely. Now, everyone was suspicious.

“If you need to leave, we understand-” John started

“No, no. I am perfectly fine here. Stevie went to fetch someone for me about the problem.” The four people now sensed that the doctor did not want to talk about it anymore, so they continued their police work.

~~~~~

“Please, he wants to help you.”Stevie pleaded.

“Like I said, Stevie, I don’t want anyone’s help.” Regina argued. She continued walking down an alley. Stevie followed.

“Regina! You don’t have to do this alone!” Stevie called. This made the girl stop. Regina spins around.

“I have you, don’t I?”

“It’s not enough-”

“It’s enough for me! You can tell Dr. Kriezler that I said thank you, but no thank you.”

“If I return home without you, he will personally hunt you down himself. And I will help him. That man doesn't take no for an answer when it comes to helping people.” Regina hesitates. She doesn’t think she’ll get far in her condition.

“Stevie, I really don’t want to…” Regina cries. Damn hormones. Stevie comes closer, taking her hands in his.

“I know, Darling. But I promise you, the only outcome that can come out of this, is good. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust him with all my might.” The young couple hugged. Regina felt safe in Stevie’s arms. A feeling she hadn’t felt ever before she met him. As long as Stevie is there with her at the doctor’s house, she will be just fine.

~~~~

It wasn’t long before Stevie returned. Over an hour and a half. And the adults were still hard at work, not paying any attention to the time. The door opened, making everyone look up. They all watch as Stevie comes through the door with a girl.

She was sickly. Her skin is a grayish color. Bags under the eyes, cheek bones too prominent for anyone’s liking. “Regina, this is Dr. Kreizler, Doctor, this is-”

“Regina!?” John exclaimed. Regina’s soft smile turned upside down at the sight of her cousin.

“You know this girl?” Laszlo asks. Even if it was evident. John walks closer.

“Yes, she’s...she’s my cousin. A very close one at that.” John answers. Dr. Kriezler studies the girl. The fear on her face, the way she tries to hide behind Stevie, the hand strategically placed on the stomach. “Regina, why are you here? In New York? With Stevie?” John questioned. Regina tries to make up a lie.

“I have my reasons.” She answered. John doesn’t buy it.

“You look sick, are you alright?” Laszlo, looks at the girl, to see what answer she would give. A lie, or the truth.

“I’ve just been under the weather lately.” A white lie.

“Stevie, take Miss Regina to my office, I shall be there shortly.” Laszlo instructs. The couple ran off before John could ask anymore questions.

“Wait, why is she here? Why do you need to see her?” John asks frantically. The doctor calmly turns to his friend.

“Stevie came to me saying he had a friend that needed some help working some issues out. I offered my expertise. I was not aware of who the friend was.” Laszlo hated lying to his friend, but apparently there was a reason. John sighs.

~~~~

Laszlo entered the room to find the couple sitting on the chaise, Regina tucked under Stevie’s arm, her legs over his. But as soon as he entered, they broke apart. “Miss Regina…” Laszlo trails off, searching for a last name.

“Moore. Regina moore.” Regina answers. Laszlo nods and sits down in the chair across from them.

“Stevie has informed me about your...unfortune.” Laszlo starts, being careful to choose his words. Regina avoids his gaze. “And I want to help you. In whichever decision you choose. I’m sure Stevie does also.” Regina nods.

“As I told Stevie many times, Doctor, I do not wish for any help. I am perfectly fine on my own.” Regina states. Kriezler nods with a soft smile.

“I believe you. I do. But, It’s my medical conclusion that this is a situation a very young woman as yourself should not do alone.” Regina takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Stevie notices, and places a hand on her back. “Please, let me help you-” A loud banging came from the door.

“I know only one person who knocks like that.” Regina whispers. John. She turns to the Doctor. “Please, he cannot know.” She pleads. Kriezler nods before standing up.

“John! You're interrupting a session!” Laszlo chastises. John opens the door before Laszlo gets a chance too.

“Usually I would apologize when the patient is not my family who is supposed to be in the city over!” John yells, making eye contact with the girl in question. Stevie stands up in front of Regina. John has always felt an overwhelming sense of overprotectiveness when it came to his younger cousin. He remembers his grandmother forcing him to watch her as a baby as she and his aunt and uncle went out for the night. As a toddler, having to chase her around the house. He was one of the few that would play games with her. Outside her own mother. He helped her with her studies as a child. He has always cared for her. That feeling did not let up just because she was growing into a woman.

“John please-” Regina begged.

“Do your parents know you’re here? Did you run away!?” John can be an intimidating man when he needs to be. So intimidating, it broke his cousin.

“Yes.” Regina answered. John was furious. Why would she do such a foolish thing? John strided over to Regina, but was stopped by his friend.

“John, calm down don’t do anything rash-”

“Laszlo stay out of this! This is a family matter!” John pushed past his friend. John yanked his cousin from behind Stevie.

“No!” The young boy yelled. Regina yelped from the painful grip.

“What is going on here!?” A new voice entered the room. Sara’s. Everyone freezes. Sara and the twins now stand in the doorway.

“My cousin ran away from home, so I need to return her.” John answers. Regina lets out a sob.

“Please, John! Please don’t take me back there! They’ll kill me!” Regina sobs. John looks at her. He’s never seen his cousin so petrified.

“They are probably worried sick! They’ll be too grateful to have you safe back home, they’ll forget about being mad.” John argues. Regina shakes her head as tears roll down her cheeks.

“If...If...If they find-IF they find out…” Regina was too scared to finish her sentence.

“Find out what!?”

“She’s pregnant.” Laszlo answers. He couldn’t bear seeing John yell at an innocent girl. His friend looks at him in shock. Eyes wide, mouth hung open, chest heaving. His grip loosens. Regina runs to Stevie’s arms. Stevie holds her securely as his lover cries into his chest.

“Tell me it’s not true.” John asks Regina. “Tell me he’s lying, tell me it’s not true!” He took one look at Stevie, and it all clicked. “Oh, god.” John whispers. Laszlo bows his head.

“John, maybe you should sit down. You look a bit pale.” Sara suggests. John nods, trudging over to a lone chair.

“It’s Stevie’s, John. I asked her to come here so that I could lend my help. She has been living on the streets as of late.” Laszlo explains. John turns a solemn face to Regina.

“How? How? I just visited you mere months ago? Now look at you, away from home. Why?”

“They beat her!” Stevie snaps. Regina holds him tighter. A soft gasp escapes Sara. John shakes his head.

“No. No, I know my Aunt and Uncle they wouldn’t-”

“They did! I guess you don’t know them well enough.” Stevie argues. There was a long standing silence. No one had any words.

“Regina, My name is Sara Howard. A friend of Laszlo, and friend of Stevie. Tell me, how old are you?” Sara speaks, coming closer to her.

“15.” Regina answers. She comes out from Stevies chest, facing the woman. Stevie keeps his arms around his girlfriend’s waist. Sara lightly places a hand to the girl’s cheek.

“You’ve lost your color. Pregnant women are usually glowing.” Sara observes.

“Paleness during pregnancy can be caused by an unfulfilling diet, or an external illness such as flu. I suspect her young age is also an aspect.” Luscious explains. She was living on the street. How fulfilling could her diet be? “If not remedied, she may lose the baby.”

“Then so be it.” Regina mumbles, gaze to the ground. Loudly enough for Sara.

“No, don’t say that.” Sara chastises softly. Regina makes eye contact with her.

“I don’t want this. I’m not ready to be a mother.” Sara’s heart broke from hearing the cracks in her voice. The poor girl was scared for her life. Sara lifts both her hands to hold her face.

“I understand. But wishing death on an innocent thing is not a path you want to walk along. Please, let us help you. Me, Laszlo, your cousin.” Sara asked.

“I will always be here for you. Every step of the way.” Steve adds from behind Regina.

“Let’s make a deal.” Sara starts. Everyone looks at her. “You carry the baby, give birth, and I promise you, by that time, I would have found a loving family that will take the baby in as their own. They don’t have to know anything about the mother.”

Everyone thought it was a good deal. There were plenty of couples who wanted a baby, but couldn’t have one. Sara wouldn’t have a hard time finding a family. Regina nods.

“She shall live here. With Stevie. If that’s okay with you, John.” Laszlo offers. John nods before standing up.

“I would take her in seeing as she’s my family, but I’m sure grandmother would kick her out in an instant.” John agrees.

~~~~

Laszlo had set up a room for her. A guest room she and Stevie would share.

When Stevie entered the room, everyone looked at him. “How is she?” John was the first to speak to the boy.

“Resting. She refused to go to sleep, but I soon convinced her to at least lay down. Didn’t take her long after that.”

“Stevie, you do know. You are going to help the most, right? This is your doing. Being a future father is not easy.” Laszlo warns. Stevie nods. “Do you love her?”

“With all my heart.”

#The Alienist #laszlo #Laszlo Kreizler #laszlo kreizler imagine #john moore #john moore imagine #stevie taggart #stevie taggart imagine #sara howard #sara howard imagine #daniel brühl #luke evans #dakota fanning

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chipped-chimera · 1 month ago

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Okay psych nerd here who is not going to bloat this with a tag explanation and instead just write the thing:

The answer is two things -

Dehumanization / Distancing from Humanity

Moral Psychology

Here's an example in action. So I'm sure everyone knows about the Trolley Problem - you are standing near a train track at the track switch, an out of control train barrelling down the rails. On one of the tracks, are a group of men working on the rails (or tied to the rails if you prefer the image version). If you do nothing, it will collide with the group of people and kill them. On the other hand, if you use the switch and change the track, it'll instead kill just one person. This one people can reasonably complete, the usual choice being kill one to save five or whatever.

But here is another version. The Fat Man Trolley Problem (not my wording). In this version of the Trolley Problem, you are standing on a bridge overpass of a traintrack. Next to you is a very large man. Below you, are the five workmen. The train is out of control, but you realise if you push the fat man off the bridge and onto the track, his mass will be enough to stop the train and save the five people on the track. What do you do?

Naturally, this one prompted visceral reactions from people it was pitched to in studies - which begs the question, how is this version different from the switch problem? In both problems, you have the choice to sacrifice one to save many, but the mere thought of having to physically push another person onto the tracks crosses a line.

That's because a switch distances you from the situation, in a sense, you are removed from the humanity in the decision making and it's pure logic. Harm is a side-effect of flicking the switch, in a way you are less involved. Having to push the man, however, is forcing you to confront the human-ness of the situation, to look someone in the face and make that decision.

A lot of the problems in the world, and their respective government entities who are supposed to be fixing them, often have zero experience in the very thing they're supposed to be solving. They're sitting in an office, far, far away looking at a bunch of numbers spat out by a consulting agency while there are homeless in the streets. The switch they pull is so far away they can't even see the people their decisions affect. And if they think less of the people they are making decisions over, like the very, very, very obviously misplaced idea that homelessness is somehow caused by moral failing - that will distance them from the humanity of the situation even further.

I think back to an article I read about someone who had lost their husband to suicide after many, many, many years struggling, went to a conference regarding mental health. The participants of this conference would be the ones making major decisions that would affect the health and outcomes of other people. She confronts one of them, and asks them - have you ever been affected by depression? have you ever had someone in your family been affected?

He seemed shocked and startled. But he answered no.

That should say everything. Anyway this is why I think it should be mandatory for anyone forming country-wide, dramatically-impactful policies in government, especially regarding minorities and poverty - should have a MANDATORY amount of hours they have to spend per year with said people who will be affected by their decisions. And none of this distanced hand shaking for the cameras, I mean living that experience as closely as possible.

It's not that humanity is dead. It's not that we get up with the intention of causing harm every day. It's just a fact of psychological distancing that causes us to lose our connection with it. This can be unintentional, but sometimes it is intentional. It's often a tactic in war propaganda, to cast the enemy in such an evil light that the idea of killing many to protect or save your people - even if it's women and children, and disabled and elderly people, and civilians - is somehow justified.

So the next time you vote or support a cause or whatever in your life that may end up influencing the situation of people, outside of your known experience - stop for a moment, and have a think about what it is like for those individuals. If you had to physically go to them, and look them in the eyes - would you make the same decisions?

Also vote for people with lived experience into those positions to make the decisions when you can!

It confuses me how normalized it is to be so anti human. The fact that two countries voted no to food being a human right. The fact so many people are against universal healthcare. The fact that it’s normal to believe some people don’t deserve housing because they’re poor, addicts, mentally ill, or any combination of the above. I find it so hard to comprehend that humans who have experienced hunger, thirst, cold, and illness would wish these things upon others, or at the very least not care. It frustrates me beyond belief.

These are the exact values we’re taught as children, to believe all humans are equal in worth and needs, and yet at some point you’re expected to grow out of that illusion. You’re expected to accept that this is what life’s like, that the world is unfair, and attempting to fix it makes you weak and childish.

#psychology #social commentary #knowing this helps me feel better about humanity cause it's often not malice it's ignorance + fun psychological quirks we can't help #but there are people who deliberately distance themselves and actually /fear/ confrontation with the reality that's being lived #this is why you get billionaires doubling down on insane statements - they're using a switch that might as well be on another PLANET #they also double down because it's psychologically perceived as a threat - that their idea might be wrong and makes them a bad person #brains will bend over backwards to keep that homeostatic nice feeling going #even if it means believing a lie #even if it means committing genocide #the most proactive thing you can do is pushback and confront these people making decisions #make them look you in the eyes #also re: wanting to fix the thing makes you childish - I think it's a lot of media oversaturation basically giving us compassion fatigue #so anyone seeing it happen is like 'why bother' and may put you down for it to amend their OWN cognitive dissonance they're the bad person #suicide mention #suicide tw #not detailed just very loosely mentioned

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drtenebres · 4 years ago

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who are the most developed/most focused on characters right now??

Thanks for the ask!! It’s hard to say who is the most developed character right now, due to so many brain cells trying to work together, but we’ve all got our own individual ones we’re working on that we feel the strongest about !

@shslstraws :

blah blah blah this is where jude talks about oumota -Snelly (SHAAAAADDUPPPPP -Straws)

Kaito (My beloved) - A commonfolk who was oblivious by the magic world around him until he inevitably is pushed to it, by living his new life as a Tenebroso werewolf. The cause for how he became a werewolf is unknown, and he tries to keep away from his friends and family to protect them from this “curse”. Kaito gets in a mix of mages and eventually meets with Kokichi, a plague doctor who claims he can cure him. He slowly realizes and comes to face the reality that is Tenebres.

Kokichi (Most developed??) - A mage who lived in an orphanage until he gets adopted by two mages, Nagito and Hajime. Kokichi dreams of being far powerful than both his dads and going back to recruit the other orphanage kids to his upcoming organization. Until he gets a set back when he takes things too far with the magi academy, he gets demoted to a Plague Doctor; a low status of a mage. It is until he meets Kaito, on one of his duties, and believes if he figures out the mystery behind Tenebrosos, he will earn the right to regain his place back in the academy.

Shuichi (Most Focused on ATM) - Born from the great Kyoko Kirigiri and Makoto Naegi, there are a lot of expectations put upon Shuichi since he was very young. The expectations were too high and too heavy to carry that Shuichi decided to leave behind that life and the Kirigiri name. He meets up with Rantaro who gives him the ability of a werewolf, and thinks he can finally start anew. Until he faces the same problems with being a werewolf and being part of a pack, Shuichi decides to live amongst the commonfolk with his new friends Kaito, Kaede, and Maki by his side.

@baylardian-1 :

Kyoko (Most focused on) - A detective who grew up working under a large magefolk entity in the specific branch that deals with magic-based crimes. Kyoko is telepathic with a hindered use of magic due to a strange curse covering both of her hands. Because of her ability to read minds and the overwhelming loudness many voices can create in her head, Kyoko prefers working alone. Eventually she retires from her occupation and becomes a private investigator alongside her husband Makoto.

Hifumi (Most developed) - A hamster familiar most closely resembling a smitten patsy for Celestia Ludenberg. Not having many friends he impulsively chose to follow a pretty girl one day and has never ceased. Initially out of threat, Hifumi would perform healing spells for Celestia after her hunts in addition to take care of her every beck and call. Nowadays their relationship takes on a more unspoken respect and fondness for one another.

Mukuro (My beloved) - A Tenebroso werewolf nearing closer to being 400 years old in age. Born a mage alongside her younger twin sister Junko, many events surrounding their past are shrouded in mystery. As a Tenebroso she has an unnaturally extended life. Mukuro is naturally covered in scars and physically looks to be reaching her mid 50's-early 60's. She is most often however seen to be disguising herself as a young girl.

@snellymain :

Kiyo (Most developed) - A socially reclusive vampire with a guilty conscience and a sworn duty to feed by killing swiftly rather than turning anyone else into a vampire; since he hates his vampirism and his sister that cursed him with it. Has a huge fondness for humans and anthropology after his controlling sister's hatred for them caused him to have extremely limited interactions with them. Ends up committed to a mage named Angie while the unwanted spirit of his sister began haunting him after many years of being dead.

Mahiru (Most focused on) - A standard mage with very little powers and a high respect for her non-mage mother, matching her disdain for her mage father. She got into photography as she had no attachment to her underwhelming magic, until her mother urged her to go to an academy so she wouldn't let her powers go to waste like her father did. After doing so, being out in the world more, she met Hiyoko and Hiro; in which she happily adopted the former and angrily married the latter.

Angie (My beloved) - A healing-based blood mage raised communally on an island, she heals others wounds with their own blood and often secretly takes their blood for her own use while doing so; mostly to feed her partner Kiyo, but she also has a fascination for blood of her own, initially being a result of her village's blood sacrifices and now a result of her blood magic. Generally a loud nuisance, though a medically helpful nuisance, in her academy.

@samsquatchem :

Doodle + blurb done by Snelly ♥

Yasuhiro (Their beloved) - A nomadic powerful mage with a wide variety of powers, mostly focusing on clairvoyance and near-limitless telekinesis; generally wanders around getting money wherever he can but spending it horrendously, ending up in a constant flat circle of time. He’s basically homeless; not out of poverty but what he considers convenience and tax evasion, for the most part and bums around Mahiru’s place. Close friends and a father figure to Hiyoko, (much to Mahiru’s initial dismay) the two bond over their shared tendency to wander and be in a new place every week + magic that neither know how to use properly, she became quickly attached to him due to him being the first person to talk to her after she ran away from home. Hiro is able to see the future but unable to speak it verbatim or else the opposite outcome will come to fruition, he can only nudge clients in the right direction of his visions. Most people think his magic is a scam and he’s the most useless mage ever.

@sutexii :

Chiaki (My Beloved) - A wooden mask enchanted with a human soul, powered by dream juice and magic robotics. Created by Chihiro to live in the dream realm (where u go when u sleep + also where the killing games take place) to gather data on it for Chihiro’s research, and help those in it travel safely. Has a deep fascination with the unpredictable and strange, and enjoys seeking out new knowledge wherever she can. Still likes her games, and while originally given access to some to help entertain those she’s traveling with, she just ends up hoarding them herself.

Tenko (Most Focused On ATM) - Commonfolk w/ a smidge of monster that comes out when her anger peaks. Abandoned due to said anger issues as a child, and taken in by Aoi and Sakura. She had a very Ghibli idyllic childhood, having adventures with friends and delivering donuts for her mom. Learned martial arts from her mom, taking a particular liking to Aikido, and through it learned to control her anger. Follows childhood crush Himiko around to protect her, leading to her entering the less than legal artifact smuggling trade with her later in life.

Aoi (Most Developed) - Water elemental with a love for baking donuts and raising/rehabilitating carp. Married to Sakura, having met when she wandered into the pond in her family’s abandoned dojo and decided to stay to fix it up, motivating Sakura to fix the rest of the place up in turn. Very carefree, friendly, and laid back, loves kids and taking on the “fun auntie” role. Never worked on her humanoid appearance much at all until motherhood, Tenko enters their life and it became hard to hold back a feral monster baby with fins.

@Soupcifer_ :

Nekomaru (Franken-maru) (most developed) - A reanimated corpse who was brought back to life thanks to the help of Kazuichi and Mikan. Unfortunately, he has amnesia and thus no recollection of his past friendships and family. He's a lot more quiet and mellow in comparison to his old self which makes him seem pretty dull, but in actuality he's being rather attentive and simply trying to understand everything that's happening. He does a lot of behind-the-scenes work when no ones looking like cleaning up after Kazuichi and setting reminders for Akane (still a team manager at heart).

Gonta (My beloved) - A vampire raised by werewolves. He only recently came to terms with being a vampire as he lived most of his life assuming the form of a wolf. He has an obsession with bugs, classic literature, and vintage clothing. Gonta likes to follow around a few of his friends, Angie and Korekyio (wink), and be of assistance whenever he can. He unfortunately has trouble dealing with his vampire nature sometimes due to only having lived with werewolves, so he often turns to Korekiyo for help.

Chihiro (most focused on) - An electric elemental! Chihiro is the creator/parent of Chiaki and Monomi. They have a passion for creating things that run on electricity and magic and as a result created their two lovely daughters (that and to investigate the dream realm). Chihiro also has the ability to possess electronics and machinery! Despite being incredibly small, they can emit a surprisingly large amount of energy which makes possessing large or complicated machinery an easy task.

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therealvinelle · 4 years ago

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You mentioned that you and SM have diff ideas for a "happy ending" in the Twilight verse. I was wondering, what would you constitute as a happy ending? Is it even POSSIBLE now? If not, when do you think it would've been possible in the series? (btw love the metas~! 030) -Sw

Ooooooooooooooh INTERESTING question.

To start with, no, it’s not. I don’t think it was ever possible.

We have a cast where, in no particular order:

Carlisle’s coven is a lie and his marriage doomed

Bella is depressed

Aro killed his sister, life is terrible

The shapeshifters have been dealt a cruel hand

Edward is Edward. (Meta to come.)

Victoria’s a miserable person in a miserable relationship.

SO MANY MORE. If you’re a Twilight character and you’re not a Dostoyevsky novel, you’re doing it wrong

And this is before Bella ever moved to Forks.

Now, we can wring the happiest ending possible out of what happens after she arrives in Forks, and make a better timeline. Who is it better for, though? The cast of Twilight all have conflicting interests, one man’s fortune is another’s misfortune and all that. I like Aro well enough to want a happy ending for him (also because a happy ending for Aro is a happy ending for mankind), but his happy ending conflicts directly with a lot of other characters’ happy ending. Another example, if Bella had been crushed by that truck in Twilight, the story wouldn’t have happened and there would have been none of the canon suffering. In particular the Volturi, the Denali, the homeless population of Seattle, and the shapeshifters would all be better off. I would argue the Cullens would in the long run be better off as well. Is that a better timeline, then, should Bella have died that day?

What, for that matter, is a happy ending?

Many of the characters have problems that run too deeply to ever be resolved. Carlisle’s coven is doomed, and while there are many ways it could fall apart there’s no timeline where his heart isn’t broken. Victoria’s in a horrible relationship with James and has nothing else with life, and whether he lives or dies you can’t easily fix that.

To make canon a happier place, you would have to make some tough choices.

Edward, for instance, I really do believe that the happiest ending where he’s concerned would have been for him to die from the Spanish Influenza. Vampirism has turned him into... well, it turned him into the narrator of Midnight Sun. That’s nobody’s fault. Edward Cullen is sinister. If he gets his happy ending, that’s bad news for everybody else.

And once you start playing that game, you have to wonder if Esme, Jasper, and Rosalie would have been better off dead too. (I’m on the fence about Alice.) Esme is... whatever she is, Jasper seems biologically wired to be miserable, and Rosalie has made it clear she wished to die. Now, when it comes to Rosalie I believe she could find true happiness as a vampire, but she has a very long way to go and it would mean letting go of some things she’s not ready to let go. To be happy in her marble skin, Rosalie has to relinquish her desire for humanity, and that’s not happening anytime soon.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

What would I change?

I think a few things go fatefully wrong over the course of the Twilight series.

We have, in no particular order:

Bella falls for Edward, and becomes his bride. By the end of the series she has no independence, no self-reliance. She’s completely dependent on him.

Victoria loses the one person she had left in life, goes mad, and builds a newborn army. A lot of people die, and Victoria herself dies a cruel death.

Carlisle and Aro’s friendship is ruined, causing such things as the Breaking Dawn debacle.

Bella demonstrates her gift’s efficiency against the Volturi before the vampire world. Either the Volturi or the Cullens will have to die after this.

The shapeshifters are bound to the Cullens forever thanks to Jake imprinting.

There are many ways to prevent this. Bella could have stayed home on the day of that baseball game, she could have neglected to go to Forks in the first place. Edward could have died of the flu, Carlisle could have run into Jasper before any other Cullens and formed a two-man vegetarian club with him, or he could have stayed in Volterra. There are countless of alternate paths the characters could have taken that would have led to a different outcome.

So, yes, a better timeline is perfectly possible. And just about any timeline than the canon one would be better, so really, anything will do. A happy ending, though... maybe possible, but it’d be a thorny path and not everyone involved would be happy.

This is why I write fanfiction, really, my Twilight fics current and planned are all on some level headed toward a better timeline. They have that common denominator.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #carlisle cullen #bella swan #edward cullen #aro #victoria #Anonymous #ask #long post

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ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 3 years ago

Text

Flesh, Part 1

Excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

Previous Excerpt

Next Excerpt

And now we come to what you’ve all been waiting for, the meat of this book {Editing Note: Boooo}. The gory details, such as they are, of how we acquire our flesh. It’s a topic that’s captured the public imagination for a long time - we’ve all heard plenty of lurid stories and speculation all our lives. I frankly wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve skipped straight to this chapter to finally hear it straight from the monster’s mouth. I’ll do my best to satisfy your curiosity. Understand, though - this topic is deadly serious, and more than almost any other subject I’ve covered, I’m aware of the danger inherent in revealing this. If the information I lay out here compromises these avenues of flesh, people will die for it. I will tell you as much as I can without risking that outcome.

{Editing Note: Everything after this needs strict review, and not just from me. Get as many eyes as possible on this before publishing.}

Nearly every ghoul has or will participate in the direct acquisition of flesh at some point. Finding food is an involved process, and not a particularly scaleable one. There are no factory farms for humans, nor should there be. Truly steady supplies of flesh are rare. Most of our methods involve gathering a small group of ghouls periodically, rather than just one or two of us working continuously. This, unfortunately, causes inconsistencies in supply more often than is comfortable. As such, we’ve had ample opportunity to figure out exactly how much flesh we need to survive.

For the average mature ghoul, 5 pounds of flesh per day is the ideal consumption rate. Very roughly, we should be eating one adult human body per month for peak health. Put that starkly, it’s a grim picture. Extrapolate from that, and that means each of us is eating 12 humans a year. Obviously, we don’t eat that much from the moment of birth. I remember starting to get hungry more often around age 15, and I can count on one hand the number of ghouls I’ve met over 50, so let’s call the 35 years between those two ages our lifespan. Over the course of our lives, we will each eat over 400 humans. When you look at it from that angle, one life against 400, it’s no wonder that you have, as a whole, decided that we need to die.

But that angle misses some important subtleties. For one, we can handle some remarkably flexible feeding patterns. We can subsist on much less than an ideal diet for a very long time without serious ill effects. For example, I follow a fairly common feeding pattern and only eat half-meals three weeks out of every four. The only ill effects I notice are increased exhaustion and soreness, usually beginning towards the end of the second week and gradually escalating until the fourth. We can also go for multiple days without eating before noticing any ill effects. Many ghouls have only one or two very large meals each week. I personally prefer to have smaller meals more consistently - it makes me feel more human - but it’s a pattern I’ve followed plenty of times when flesh is scarce.

The other main subtlety that the math I presented above misses is that, often, we do not have to kill for flesh. People die all the time from causes that have nothing to do with us, and rarely in ways that make their flesh inedible. We have hardy constitutions and strong stomachs - most diseases and toxic chemicals can be processed and rendered inert in our digestive tracts. There are nearly three million deaths every year in the U.S. alone, the vast majority of which have nothing to do with us. If we could utilize all of that flesh, we could comfortably feed 250,000 ghouls without harming a single person. Obviously that’s never going to happen, but I also doubt there are that many ghouls in the country, so… Suffice to say that there is, theoretically, more than enough ethically-sourced flesh to go around.

Utilizing that flesh, however, is a significant logistical challenge. People aren’t in the habit of donating their bodies for our dining pleasure, and people tend to take the security of their loved ones’ remains pretty seriously. Taking flesh by force, even when we’re not trying to part it from a living body, is difficult, dangerous, messy work, so we prefer to sidestep that wherever possible. This brings us nicely to the first of our three main strategies: farming.

Farming is, unfortunately, our least productive method, but it’s the one that I hope we’ll be able to rely on entirely, some nebulous day in the future. Farming is the practice of discreetly smuggling dead flesh, produced by natural causes, out of the facilities where it is held. This is the only method we use that is sustainable, in the sense that it requires one or two ghouls working constantly and delivering a steady supply, rather than the periodic group efforts I described earlier. This method is also unusual in that it depends on us being integrated in human society, integrated enough to have unsupervised access to dead flesh.

There are two primary sources that we farm. First, there are hospitals. Countless surgical procedures result in the separation of flesh from living humans. Sometimes this flesh is passed along for scientific analysis, but most of it ends up classified as medical waste sooner rather than later. As I’ve said, though, we can safely handle most of the factors that cause limbs to be amputated or organs to be removed. Once these have been marked for disposal, ghouls working at the hospital can usually hide away the flesh for later retrieval without anyone noticing its absence. Unfortunately, caution requires our farmers to take less than is truly salvageable, given how damning it is to be caught stealing flesh. They also avoid taking whole cadavers, which are much more closely observed while in the hospital, and are typically handed over to other people rather than fully disposed of. We also, as a general rule, are careful to avoid eating anything cancerous. Tumors are something of a taboo, only to be eaten in times of extreme famine. We are as vulnerable to cancer as humans are, and there is a strong fear that eating tumors may cause you to absorb some of the cancerous cells into your own body, where they will be free to grow again. I can’t speak to the truth of that, but it’s not a fate I’m interested in tempting.

Our other main farming source is funeral homes. Contrary to popular perception, and to government defence policies, we actually have very little interest in robbing graveyards. By the time bodies go in the ground, they’ve usually been rendered inedible by embalming practices. Given how robust our digestive tracts are, it’s my theory that embalming practices were, at some point in history, specifically designed to protect human bodies from us. Obviously not all bodies are properly embalmed, but there’s no way to tell that without digging one up, and digging up a grave is hard. It is far more beneficial for us to intercept the bodies before they get to that stage. Therefore, we find it very valuable to train as morticians. This allows us to take cuts of flesh before a body is embalmed. Over the years, we’ve figured out exactly how much flesh can be taken and from where without showing at an open casket funeral. For closed caskets, or for cremations, we can take nearly the entire body without detection.

{Editing Note: That’s going to be upsetting for anyone who’s ever buried a family member. I’m not sure how to address that gently. I don’t know how receptive most people would be to “it’s okay that we ate your grandma because it means we got to live long enough to eat other people’s grandmas”.}

Unfortunately, there are a limited number of jobs with access to farmable bodies, and as the number of ghouls in those positions increase, so does the chance of one of them being discovered. Some of you, I’m sure, have seen how paranoid everyone gets when one of us is outed among you. We can’t even come close to fully utilizing these outlets without risking a lot of us dying. My household is fortunate - three of our members are farmers, and we may be gaining a fourth, depending on what degree Scarlet actually settles on. But that supply of farmed flesh is not always enough to feed all of us, and it certainly isn’t enough for Yaga’s charity projects. So about once a month, we send out a group to engage in our second method - gathering.

As I said, there are a lot of deaths that have nothing to do with us. Gathering is our attempt to get ahold of some of those dead before other factors take care of them. Death is, unfortunately, unpredictable, so the best we can do is send people out at irregular intervals to scoop up what we can. A gathering party typically consists of at least half a dozen ghouls; the exact size depends on the amount of ground we want to cover, how many bodies we expect to be transporting, and how worried we are about getting into a violent confrontation. Ideally, no one gets hurt by our gathering parties, but no one is going to look too kindly on body snatching, and sometimes we just attract the wrong kind of attention. If we need an especially large group, or if we intend to cover a particularly large area, we might even reach out to other households for extra help in exchange for a share of our find.

A gathering run typically begins at night, in the poorer parts of the city. I’m sure gathering happens in rural areas, but I can’t speak to their methods. In the city, though, it’s the poor and the homeless and the addicts, the abandoned of human society that are most likely to die somewhere we can get to them. So we put on anonymizing clothing and start looking. Our most reliable leads come from homeless communities and drug sites. Sometimes it’s enough to just show up, make small talk, and look around for the dead or imminently dying. If it’s the latter, sometimes we just wait - keep them company while they wait for the end. Unfortunately for us, people don’t generally die all at once at predictable intervals; it’s not uncommon for us to find no bodies at all. Fortunately, there are some people who are desperate enough to sell us leads. Buying leads is a dangerous game - any person who knows us to be ghouls, even if we take pains to conceal our identities from them, is one more person who could bring the exterminators down on us - and the more effective the method of gathering leads is, the more dangerous it is. The safest thing is to find a stranger and offer them money for a lead, one time deal, and never contact them again. Regular contacts have more opportunities to expose us, whether for exterminator money, moral duty, or just by being careless, but if they know to expect us, they can amass leads, or sometimes even hold bodies for us to buy off them directly. I’ve heard that some households even have arrangements with organized crime to act as free, efficient body disposal.

Once we’ve thoroughly checked these areas, the next step is to check accident sites. Typically we’ll separate to stake out common suicide and accident sites. These aren’t particularly reliable either, but they turn up bodies often enough to be worth staking out once we’ve exhausted our more proactive options. Sometimes, on particularly slow gathering parties, we’ll break out a police scanner and listen for any incident reports likely to produce a body and see if we can get there before the cops. It’s a dangerous game, and often no more lucrative than our other approaches, but there is nothing more depressing or upsetting than coming back from gathering empty handed. Coming home empty handed means we need to take more drastic measures.

I’ve been on around a dozen gathering parties so far. Most of them went well enough, with minimal incident and moderate success. I’ve been on two where we had to chase police scanners. And I’ve been on one that came back empty-handed. That isn’t the only one my household has ever run that came back empty-handed, but it’s the one that stuck out most in my mind because it’s the one time I felt personally responsible for what happened next. When our regular gathering still doesn’t produce enough flesh, we have three options, none of them pleasant. We could all tighten our belts, ration our flesh carefully, and try to endure until we can make up our shortfall. There are a lot of factors that can make this approach unsafe, though. Starving isn’t any more pleasant for us than it is for humans, and it can make us less careful than is safe. Or sometimes someone is injured or sick and wouldn’t be able to handle stricter rationing. Our next option is to organize a gathering raid. There are plenty of hospitals and funeral homes that we can’t farm, for one reason or another, but sometimes we can steal from them. This is a high-risk endeavor, obviously. Anywhere that handles human remains is on the lookout for this kind of thing, and even if we get away clean, the raid will almost certainly make the news and bring exterminators sniffing around. That’s not even touching the fact that, just because we aren’t farming somewhere, that doesn’t mean someone else isn’t. The kind of scrutiny a raid draws can be a death sentence for any ghouls working at the raid target. So, most of the time, Yaga chooses to take our third option. She calls for a Hunt.

{Editing Note: I need to talk to Spatha before I write the rest of this. I need to convince her that I’ll just listen this time, and then I need to actually do that. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to reopen this wound between us. I don’t want to risk our friendship. Is this project really worth that? Do I seriously think it will make a difference?}

#my writing #memoirs of a flesh eater #original fiction #not tlt

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reaperlight · 4 years ago

Note

Venom - Ryuk / Eddie - Light?

I guess its the same as the previous ask, huh? *facepalm*

Well I wrote for it a few months ago but never got around to posting it but always meant to go back and edit but, ahhhh I'm sorry!

Here is the mostly unedited brain vomit from November 2020:

I'm sorry, I guess I don't understand the ask.

Were you asking me to compare the characters, compare the ships or shipping them all together?

I guess I'll just ramble for a bit about my two main hyperfixations...

I've long seen parallels between Light Yagami and Eddie Brock, especially comics!Eddie in terms of the flavor of their characters, their moral codes and character flaws (arrogance, conniving, opportunistic), power from monster partner, and (for comics!eddie) their relations to their narrative foils.

Also I see parallels between comics Eddie and Mello but I feel that's more terms of aesthetic/superficial. Blonde, catholic, like leather, motorcycles, chocolate and revenge. But I digress...

Comics Eddie and Venom initially during the original villain run I believe was meant to be a kind of narrative foil for Peter Parker, a kind of what if Peter went evil, Spiderman with murder.

And Light's character also reminds me a lot of Peter Parker, especially in the beginning of the series--both in character design and the lying, sneaking, hacking, and ha-ha I'm so clever... but instead of like leaping off buildings his secret is murder.

Light and comics!Eddie are both obsessed with their narrative foils/nemesis/equal and-opposite but for different reasons and with different outcomes.

L-Embarrassed Light and threatened to have him caught and killed him.

Develop a "friendship" to try and murder each other. Kills L and later regrets it, or at the very least seems sad he's no longer around.

Spiderman-embarrassed Eddie while he was already having the worst day of his life, getting him fired AND he hurt Venom. Tries to kill Spiderman but doesn't succeed but they think they did for a while and are happy about it. There's no angst because from their perspective they had rid the world of an evil, the man that hurt them both.

When they think they succeed at killing Spiderman, the man who hurt them, that everyone lauds as a hero is dead.. Eddie and Venom are just happily living on an island together, deciding to stay together even though the revenge that brought them together was over and just living, free of burden of hating Spiderman knowing he got his revenge... then spidey shows up alive and that's the end if that.

Later after Spiderman saves Anne, Eddie realizes he wasn't the evil he thought he was. So they move away, and tries to let it go of their obsession, even though Spiderman hurt them (and continues to do so), focusing on themselves instead and protecting a homeless community.

Of course its easier to try to seek redemption when you're bulletproof.

Venom's character has changed and grown since the initial villain days, (well depending on the writer) and the Venom symbiote has become a character with autonomy and not just a costume/plot device/metaphor for drug addiction--again Venom stories can be very different depending on the writer. Being a long-time fan my perceptions of Venom are shaped by comic canon but for the most part we'll focus here on Eddie and Venom as a loving couple.

In a way Movie!Venom feels like a fanfic version, a soft boy!Eddie, but in a good way--it's fun. Eddie gets to learn and grow from his mistakes and the movie ends with Eddie and Venom as a hero...

A hero who eats people--a situation that cannot be sustained. Much like wanting to solve all the world's problems with a murder notebook--barring some comic book miracle this can only end badly.

First impulse upon encountering a problem is kill it.

But this manifests in different ways.

If you've pissed off...

Light- he will find your name and your death will be carefully planned down to the minute.

Venom-Your death will be immediate, swift, and messy.

---

Even though I use the venom movie as a basis for headcanons here. I feel we can pick and choose from the often contradictory comic canon (the way these characters are written varies wildly depending on the author) which canon parts we like.

Comic!Eddie is more like Light than movie!Eddie in their character flaws.

Conniving, opportunistic...

They have a similar moral code.

Black and white morality

In the comics they have another thing in common-a nemesis to obsess over.

In philosophy...

Kill the guilty, save the innocent.

Comic!Eddie develops a God/messiah complex at one point though it's a temporary thing.

Movie!eddie is just he starting on his venom journey but has notably less compunction than comic!eddie about eating people.

---

Eddie and Light

I'm not shipping them romantically in my current found family au Stray. But I could see the potential there to ship--Venom has scores of different canons to pick and choose from, not just the movie. So you could have an au with College!Eddie meeting college!Light so they are closer in age.

How Light and Eddie would interact depends entirely on how they meet. For instance in the comics Venom is ride or die with friends who are also "protectors of the innocent" like Morbius the living vampire. But has animosity with the Punisher who also has a very similar outlook on life. It all depends on how they meet whether they are allies or they might try to destroy each other.

Kira

In canon Kira sees himself as a God beyond reproach and anyone else doing what he does as a murderer deserving of death. He might be allies for a time with other killers like Misa and Mikami but ultimately sees them as scum and will kill them the moment they are no longer useful.

Of course this is fanfiction and canon has no power here.

Canon was dark enough, so if I want Light to grow as a person, make friends and be happy, he will--canon be damned, lol.

Eddie = writing nerd

Peter = science nerd

Light and L = total nerds

Ryuk likes soap operas, sitcoms

Venom likes medical dramas

Ryuk and Venom = soft goth monsterboys or NBs who love snacks, tv, and one (1) justice-driven human.

---

Tropes VenomxEddie Symbrock/veddie and Ryght/Terraito/Deathgods have in common

Beauty and the beast-- "but I would never call you beast." You've got you're ruthless human and cinnamon roll monster that just wants snacks and cuddles

Living in close proximity

Secret boyfriend/partner

Vigilante justice

Deep voice

Sharp teeth

Long tongue

Alien biology

Optional body alteration

Optional--tension with rival/Narrative foil

Angst tropes-- the threat of being imprisoned, institutionalized, or subjected to unethical experiments

Daddy issues

Praise kink

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themculibrary · 3 years ago

Text

Vampires Masterlist

Links Last Checked: August 15th, 2023

part two

Adrenalize Me (ao3) - LightningStriking steve/bucky E, 58k

Summary:

Leaning against the side of a wall, taking an indolent drag of a cigarette, there he stood. Watching Bucky with an inscrutable gaze. Staring at Bucky for long seconds, the blond seemed to consider him before breaking the silence. “You know, nice guy like you walking alone at this hour – people might think you were looking for trouble.” Trying not to shudder at the sound of that voice, which wrapped around him like smoke, Bucky managed a smirk, lifted a brow. “Well, if I was, it looks like I found it.”

Two strangers meet in a dark club. One just happens to be a vampire.

Aquired Taste (ao3) - 74days steve/bucky T, 6k

Summary: Steve Rogers isn't really quite sure what is going on, because one moment he's feeding Clint's dog a treat and the next the hottest guy he's ever seen is wiping blood from his mouth and accusing him of tasting bad.

(OR: The one where Bucky is a vampire and Steve is anemic)

A Place to Stay (ao3) - sarahyellow steve/bucky E, 23k

Summary: Homeless and weary, Bucky Barnes just wants a guarantee of safety. But as Darcy points out: It's hard to pull yourself up by your bootstraps when you don't have any bootstraps.

Opening a vein for Steve Rogers is all he's got left.

Dying for a Drink (ao3) - tsukinofaerii steve/tony E, 61k

Summary: Tony takes up an offer that has tragic effects, and Steve is forced to handle the outcome. But Tony's business isn't done yet, and so Steve finds himself struggling with vampire politics and his own sexuality.

Fangbait (ao3) - FestiveFerret steve/tony E, 5k

Summary: There's only one reason Tony would go to a bar like this, dressed the way he is: fangbait.

His Dear Dead Flesh (ao3) - usedupshiver loki/tony E, 21k

Summary: Tony ends up in trouble worse than he could even imagine after breaking into the house of a dying man. As he faces Loki's otherworldly nature he comes to realize that he's there for a reason – one connected to his own very darkest desires. And that damnation can become salvation, for both of them.

I’m a Sucker for a Wild Boy (ao3) - jinlinli steve/bucky T, 9k

Summary: Steve is a vampire who’s never met a werewolf in his life before. Bucky is a werewolf who doesn’t even know vampires exist. Naturally, neck biting means two very different things to them.

In which Steve goes for a midnight snack and accidentally gets himself werewolf married.

Looking for Trouble (ao3) - Like_a_Hurricane loki/tony E, 3k

Summary: Loki is an elder vampire who wasn’t even human before being bitten. He has a long history of antagonism against some old gods. A recent epic scuffle with them in mid-town Manhattan caused an awful lot of property damage and a few civilian deaths, and got the attention of some highly-paid hunters, part of their own global organization which keeps track of things supernatural, extraterrestrial, et cetera. Tony Stark is their engineering genius and sometimes a heavily armored battering ram with rocket boots when things get really ugly on the extraterrestrial front, and normally he doesn’t truck with the more magic-y bullshit, but after meeting a couple of actual gods from Asgard, and finding out they’re aliens... he gets curious.

Tony Stark goes looking for trouble. Trouble, in the form of an elder vampire curiously antagonistic toward Asgard at every possible opportunity in history that they made contact with earth, finds him. Trouble always loves Tony, but this trouble has plans. And a secret lair. And Tony wakes up suspended from the air and chained. It only gets stranger from there.

Our Names in Blood (ao3) - OhCaptainMyCaptain steve/tony E, 29k

Summary: The super soldier experiment results in Steve becoming a lethal killing machine. Isolated, alone, and terrified, Steve finds his way to Europe where he learns Bucky's been taken by Hydra. When he finds him strapped to a metal slab and moments from death, Steve faces the choice: either let his childhood best friend - and the love of his life - die, or turn him and condemn his soul.

Red (White & Blue) (ao3) - counteragent steve/bucky E, 22k

Summary: “I’m dangerous,” Steve said softly, because he couldn’t say, I’m terrified. He couldn’t say, It’s killing me.

tasting me like blood in your mouth (ao3) - laireshi steve/tony T, 3k

Summary: There's a trail of bloodless bodies, an Avenger missing, and Tony Stark knows he has to set it right.

Temptation (ao3) - The_Winter_Writer bucky/tony N/R, 5k

Summary: Tony would rather be anywhere but sitting in a cemetery, alone, waiting for vampires. It was cold, creepy and this whole thing was entirely Howard's fault for trying to force the family legacy on him.

The Lost and the Wretched (ao3) - Veldeia steve/tony T, 58k

Summary: After his reanimation, Tony has yet to find a reason to continue his existence that isn’t hatred or bitterness. After decades of captivity in Arcadia, Steve doesn’t know if he even has a soul anymore. When the vampires of the Covenant of the Shield organize a mission to rescue Steve, it is a new beginning for both of them.

Thin White Skin (ao3) - chaya steve/bucky E, 10k

Summary: "Steve. You're so cold. What happened to you?"

"I joined the army."

Thirst (ao3) - velithya steve/tony T, 2k

Summary: Tony's out of blood. Steve has a solution Tony doesn't like much.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #halloween #vampires #vampires masterlist #masterlists

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magmahurricane · 5 years ago

Text

Assorted IDW thoughts

Let me preface this by saying Ian Flynn is not a perfect writer.

I personally believe his greatest weakness is in writing this long, spanning arcs. We’ve seen this even in Archie with the Mecha Sally arc, and in post-reboot with the Shattered World Crisis arc. And it’s reared it’s ugly head again with the Zombot arc in IDW.

He also has a habit of favoring certain characters and trying a little too hard to argue why they’re good/likeable - this was especially a problem with Sally in his early run.

With that said: I mostly enjoyed the Zombot Arc. I am someone who has been absolutely exhausted by media’s fixation on Zombies, but I found the Zombot arc... endearing, actually.

The Zombot concept was a fun, fresh take and arguably more nightmarish than the average zombie, in that they were largely indestructible and you’d only need the slightest touch to be infected. And again, they couldn’t be put down.

An unfortunately common criticism I hear about the series is that this arc was “too dark” for a Sonic the hedgehog comic, which I find to be an odd take.

The Sonic series has always dipped its toes into darker concepts. We have the bad ending from Sonic 2, and far less implied is the death of Maria Robotnik in Sonic Adventure 2 - in which we witness, as part of Shadow’s backstory: an unarmed, terminally ill 12-year-old girl being shot and killed.

In that same game, Eggman acquired a super space Fuck You cannon and destroyed a part of the moon, and made a very clear threat to fire it at the Earth.

Sonic Adventure 1 showed us an entire civilization that was wiped out after harming a bunch of innocent Chao and angering a god. Perfect Chaos leveled an entire populated city - even if you make the argument that an evacuation was put in effect and nobody died (which I don’t believe), that’s still an entire city’s worth of people who are now homeless.

There was also Sonic Battle and Emerl’s entire plight, which saw the entire main cast coming together to raise this robot like a sibling, who all loved him and were loved by him in turn, and ended with Sonic having to kill him.

Sonic and The Secret Rings had Shahra die on-screen. I mean, she got better but still.

And don’t get me started on all the fucked up things that happen during the events of the Shadow the Hedgehog game.

The point is, the Sonic the Hedgehog series has always had these bleak, dark moments. I don’t feel like the Zombot Arc was any darker than what we’ve already seen in this series. We’ve seen these characters backed into corners, we’ve seen on-screen deaths, we’ve seen these characters break before.

I feel like this criticism is misdirected; I think when people say the arc was too dark, what they mean is that it’s too long. If we’re counting the Zombot saga starting at issue 15 (when Rough & Tumble got infected), this story arc has been going on for... 14 issues. With delays in mind, this arc feels like it dragged its feet horribly.

Now, with regards to Characterization...

I think we all can agree SEGA’s recent takes on Shadow’s character are ass. There, I said it. Taking away all the development he had over the course of SA2, Heroes, ShTH and other instances - and making it so he apparently doesn’t consider Rouge and Omega his friends - is such a mind-numbingly stupid move.

Ian usually writes a good Shadow (seriously, Sonic Universe arcs “The Shadow Saga”, “Treasure Team Tango” - both pre-reboot arcs - and “Shadowfall” + “Total Eclipse” from the post reboot were really good!) but these mandates on Shadow’s character kill me.

But unfortunately, Shadow isn’t the only character who suffered during this arc. Eggman started off the arc really well, but his choices and lackadaisical attitude towards how rapidly his plan spiraled out of control was so wildly OOC and frankly, dumb. It was frustrating to read through and didn’t feel like Ian’s usual mastermind Eggman. It read as though Ian hit a bump in which he realized he needed a work around for why Eggman wasn’t doing anything about losing control over the Zombots and decided to just have him not care. I can’t remember if a reason for this characterization was ever given.

Now, this on the other hand...

This is a scene I’ve seen people rag on for being OOC for Tails, and even comparing it to the abysmal portrayal we got in Forces.

Here’s the thing: I don’t think this was OOC for Tails.

Lets look at Tails’ characterizations in, say, the Adventure-era games. His entire character arc in both was him realizing his own potential as someone who can stand on his own two feet, without needing to rely on Sonic. And he did it! By SA2, Tails has achieved his own independence.

When he believes Eggman has truly killed Sonic, Tails is sad, but he’s also determined to stop Eggman, to keep fighting no matter what and hold his head high, because he knows he can do this. He won’t let Sonic’s faith in him be misplaced.

... But this isn’t like that situation, now is it?

Lets review Tails’ ploy over the course of this arc: He studied Sonic to the best of his abilities to try and discover how to cure his friend. He was confident and certain he could figure it out.

But the infection kept spreading. People - innocent people - were being claimed by the outbreak, and the pressure began to build. People Tails knew and cared about were being turned. The situation was growing more and more desperate.

All the while, they slowly lost faith in Sonic, who was showing signs of fatigue. We also know from when Tangle was infected that the transformation into a Zombot is uncomfortable, if not painful.

People around Tails were suffering, losing loved ones - and we, as the audience, knew that nobody was actually dead from this, but the characters don’t. Silver came from a future where the whole world became infected.

And just as soon as Tails came close to solving everything, it was all cruelly ripped away. Every time they thought they had a solution, it was lost.

When the Zombots reached Angel Island,Sonic was at the point where he could hardly fight the infection off anymore. Zavok was advancing. They’d lost poor little Cream. They lost Knuckles.

And Tails was slowly succumbing to the infection.

I don’t think this was OOC. I think it made perfect sense, because the world was literally falling apart right in front of Tails’ eyes, and unlike SA2, there was nothing he could do about it at this point. He’s being infected and watching his friends fall while knowing that Silver’s future is a possible outcome.

He’s having to resort to pleading Sonic to succeed because this poor kid has watched the world fall before his eyes - and worse yet, he came so close to having the means to save it.

I don’t agree that strong characters breaking makes them OOC. I think this serves to show just how broken Tails is by everything that’s happened, how bleak the situation is, and how genuinely scared he is. And who could blame him?

In conclusion, I think IDW Sonic has its flaws - Ian has some serious faults as a writer, but he’s also really good and has a clear passion for the series and characters.

I enjoyed this arc for the most part - I just wish it had been trimmed down some.

#IDW Sonic #felt rambley today uwu

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ace-reviews · 4 years ago

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Whelp, HIGEHIRO Shit the Bed (But Not In The Way We All Thought It Would)

So, originally this was going to be a review/analysis of Futility, the really crappy novella that people only remember because it “predicted” the sinking of the Titanic in much the same way Blues Brothers “predicted” this guy crashing his SUV into the Woodfield Mall. It was going to be a lot of fun and I was going to make many funny jokes at the expense of some dead guy and his shitty proto-Incel protagonist, but then I watched this week’s episode of Higehiro and so instead of having fun taking the piss out of a 130 year old book, I’m going to be angrily yelling an anime no one is watching except me, Charlie, and some guy over at ANN.

this is your probably unnecessary spoiler warning

So, for the everybody who hasn’t been keeping up since the premier, the last few episodes have revolved around Sayu’s brother showing up out of nowhere to bring her back home. After two weeks of moping around, Yoshida decided to go with her so he could talk to her mom and assure her he’s not a creepy scumbag sex pest so please don’t call the police, ma’am, and then last week’s episode ended with Sayu’s mother slapping her as soon as she walked through the door, which is pretty much #1 on the list of things not to do when your runaway child returns home.

this is bad parenting

Now, for the first half of the episode, things were going well enough. They sat around to talk things out over drinks, and Sayu got a chance to give her mother a piece of her mind for not supporting her while she was grieving her friend. Then Sayu’s mother tells Sayu that she never should’ve given birth to her…

…and Yoshida muses on things for a moment before saying he’d like to adopt Sayu…

…only to immediately walk it back with this bullshit:

Now, I am well aware that Japan is not great about taking care of children who can’t or shouldn’t live with their biological parents, but Sayu has a brother, and her brother is an adult with job that pays a lot more than Yoshida’s job. And unlike their mother, Issa loves Sayu and genuinely wants what’s best for her. If Yoshida insists that Sayu must be taken care of by her biological family, there are other options. She doesn’t need to be left in the care of a woman who doesn’t want her and just rejected her very existence.

THIS IS NOT A POSITIVE OUTCOME, HIGEHIRO

Another issue arises with just how easy it is to read Sayu as queer. While her sexual history with men was an important factor early in the series, it’s clearly shown to be a result of desperation before moving in with Yoshida, and her early attempts to seduce Yoshida were a result of trauma and insecurity. The distinct lack of genuine interest on her part in something many members of the queer community will relate to, especially those who are asexual or aromantic.

In an age and society where 40% of homeless youth are queer, it comes across as dangerously tone-deaf to send the message be that the people who have rejected and abused you are the only ones who can be relied on to raise you properly.

Sayu’s mom has the resources to care for her, but doesn’t want her. Yoshida wants Sayu, but doesn’t have the resources to properly care for her (she needs her own room, and also therapy). There is a very obvious solution to this problem that doesn’t involve leaving the depressed and grieving child in the care of her emotionally unavailable and thoroughly unsupportive mother, and several other very good alternatives (like her living with her brother, for example) they could have considered. But instead, they went diving headlong into the worst possible outcome that’s all but guaranteed to resolve literally none of the underlying issues that led to Sayu running away in the first place.

There’s one more episode, but it seems unlikely to involve Yoshida going “Oh, wait, that was a bad thing I just did, actually. I better go back and do something significantly less dumb.” It really sucks, too, because up until this episode I really liked Higehiro. It has some issues with framing that often had me bracing myself for the worst during scenes that should’ve been cute moments of familial bonding, but was overall a sweet, found family story full of characters that feel like real people. But then it had to go and fuck it all up with a shitty take that minimizes Sayu’s past struggles with her mother and replacing these reasonable, realistic characters with props that can be convinced to change their entire personalities just by being asked nicely, all while potentially doing actual harm to any queer kids in the audience. It reminded me a bit of the resolution to Dr. Ramune‘s first episode, and I didn't care for it there, either.

This is still a better way for it to shit the bed than by having Yoshida and Sayu’s relationship turn romantic, but not much better. Even my anger toward it has worn off, to be replaced mainly by disappointment and the sense that caring about these characters and this story was a waste of time. And that’s just not good.

#higehiro #spring 2021 #sayu ogawa #cw parental abuse #rant #tumblr why you no let me indent that last picture caption #tumblr why you a bad websote

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amazingdriverfics · 5 years ago

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Crowned by the devil - ch. 4

Summary: that kiss was a one time thing you conviced yourself. The big question was: will destiny be on your side?

Warnings: mentions to child abuse, heavy making out

A/N: hope you are having a nice day and that you like this!

Previous chapter Following Chapter

This kiss was going to be a one time thing you said to yourself over and over again, fixating it in your head, forcing yourself to believe it and your body to comply, you would fight your hormones and that fucking sexual arousal that suddenly took control over you and your better judgment. The closer you got to the training center, however, the more your confidence shrank, where the hell did all of your self control went? You weren’t a teenager anymore and it wasn’t like you were sex starved, you had a fair share of encounters back in Tatooine, it must be some kind of power that Kylo as the devil had you thought. Much to your demise, there he was in all his glory in the center of the room, this time not with his usual several layered clothing, the man was using a white tank top and some tight set of pants, the sight caused your eyes to disobey your brain as they started to watch his body. He was so shredded, it looked like if he made any kind of sudden movement his tank top would just be completely teared apart. When your eyes met his lower half you noticed how defined his thighs were and more than anything else, how big he was. Cardo was the one to get you out of your head snapping his fingers next to your ears. “Ouch, was that really necessary, jerkface?” you quickly said turning your face to him, your displeasure clear in your features, all you got as a reply was a knowing smirk. You knew you had been caught staring, but you wouldn’t give Kylo the victory of seeing how affected you were by the whole situation. When you finally gathered the courage to look at Ren, he had the same cocky smile on his face he had had when he left you breathing hard in front of your quarters in the previous cycle.

Ignoring them both, you placed yourself in front of Ren, waiting for Cardo to get into place and tell you what kind of training you would be doing. “Today we’ll train your aim. Some weapons will be displaced in several locations in the arena so we have to be sure that you know how to deal with them. For this purpose, we’ll see how you perform throwing some knifes and how you shoot with a blaster” your mentor slash friend stated. This would be easy. “Initially, you will train with normal targets, after getting a satisfying result, you’ll try to hit me and Cardo. You don’t have to worry about us, however, even if you are capable of doing it you won’t kill us, we’ll be using protection” the man behind you said very closely to your ear making you shiver. After you forced a nod not trusting your voice, the two knights started to move preparing the room for your training. This was going to be a piece of cake, even though you weren’t technically an specialist with knifes you had a pretty good notion in how to throw them, perks of your job and training, and you were pretty good with a blaster, Juney had made sure of it.

You had been living in the streets for a month, surviving on whatever food you could steal or get in someone’s trash. You had been trying real hard to get a job, but no one wanted a homeless dirty girl, specially if that girl was you. Since the day you left your old ‘home’ - if you could even call it that - covered in blood, everyone was scared of you, making sure to avoid even looking your way.

Like every other cycle, you were near a small market in the intention to either take a look at what they had disposed or to take something fresh from it. That was you saw her, the woman you knew from the news circulating your planet, she had won a couple of the famous Tatooine races and had earned a considerable amount of money from them, it wasn’t like she was rich, but she lived comfortably. Her black eyes softened when she looked back at you and, on the contrary of what you had expected, she didn’t turn away. The white haired woman closed the distance between you two and before you could turn and run, her deep and careful voice filled your ears. “You are y/n, right”? as a reply you gave a shy nod, still not sure if you should stay or run away. “I’m Juney, I have seen you on that Hutt place dancing. I’m sorry for what you been through, you are too young to know this kind of pain” she said with a sad voice, once again, you nodded, this time with glossy eyes as the painful memories replayed in your head. “Come with me, I’ll get you cleaned up and give you some food” she extended her hand in your direction waiting for you to hold it. Even though you were not sure if she could be trusted, the idea of being clean and eating something seduced you, so before you could think otherwise you held her hand letting the woman take you to her place.

At first, you had been afraid of trusting Juney, all you had known your whole life was abuse and the thought that she would do the same Kreat had done to you still haunted you constantly. It took her awhile get you to be comfortable at your new home, since she was very insistent and almost forced you to live with her, but with time the two of you arranged a nice routine. She would cook you breakfast while you were doing some chores around the house and, when you were finished, Juney would sit and eat with you. After that was done, she would go to town to take care of the small cantina she had while you practiced some of the workouts she had taught you - she wanted you to be able to defend yourself in case you needed or if someday she wasn’t there for you anymore, you didn’t even like to think about it, Juney was the mother figure you had never had -. When she got back a little before the night came, the fifty-eight year old lady trained your aim with a blaster, once again a precaution that in the future would prove to be very helpful.

-- --

The thought of Juney made your heart instantly heavier, you still mourned over her death, she was the first person to really show you kindness, the only one that you could call family. Your tattoo with her name on your clavicle was a constant reminder of the reason why you were still alive and so capable of doing what you did - survive -.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you stared to get make your way to table set near the targets placed by the knights. Taking a look at the black mahogany table you could see a bunch of throwing black knives, picking one of them up, you started to make mental notes about their weight and shape, calculating how it would perform better when thrown and how external factors could influence on them - not that they would interfere right now, but maybe in the arena -. “Ready, troublemaker?”, Cardo’s question brought you back to reality, causing you to look at him and Ren, who wasn’t exactly happy with the interaction, his face was showing some kind of emotion you were still trying to read, but he had seemed to be jealous of your relationship with his knight. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to concentrate on Kylo’s reaction for very longer, since once again Cardo interrupted you.“Ok, let’s get this party started boys” you stated.

One by one your knives found their way to the multiple targets, always in vital places - head or heart -. You were really enjoying the exercise, it brought you inner peace, it connected you with one of the only happy times of your life and for the first time since Kylo started to watch your training sessions, you forgot that he was there and you were able let go of the sexual tension going on between you two, you had even forgotten that Cardo was there. In those moments all there was were you and your targets. This was a part of the reason why you had chosen bounty hunting, sure you did need the money and killing was one of the small amount of things you were truly great at, but the adrenaline and the intense focus and logic necessary to complete every single task brought you back to life and gave you a sense of fulfillment you rarely got, and the most important thing, it made you forget about Kreat and his vicious voice that would often find its way to your head during nightmares. Before you could notice, you had thrown all of the knives ‘killing’ every single one of your targets. With a proud smile on your face you turned on your back catching Cardo with an impressed, yet proud expression on his face and a slightly disturbed Kylo Ren, but, yet again, before you could read what it was about, his unbothered facade was back. “Nice, y/n, let’s see what you can do with a blaster now” your blue eyed friend said handing the weapon to you.

In no time, the targets were once again all ‘dead’, if you were good with knives you were simply spectacular with a blaster. You might not have been able to defeat those man in a hand to hand combat, since they were more trained than you, but with a blaster in your hands you were pretty sure the outcome would be very different. “I think I’m ready to finally kick your asses, boys” you said with a devilish smile on your face, as you were truly excited to beat them both. “We’ll see about that” Kylo’s baritone voice met your ears for the second time since the kiss and you had to fight your body’s urge to respond, but you were most definitely ready for the challenge, you would show Kylo Ren who was the boss. “Bring it on, baby” your defiant tone showing that you were going to make him pay for what he had done to you, not only yesterday, but this whole horror show that you were forced to participate.

-- --

This training session had been an emotional rollercoaster to Kylo, at first, he was really excited to see how y/n would react to him after all that had happened in the previous cycle and it hadn’t been a disappointment, on her way to the training facility he could already feel the anxiety pumping inside of her, but when she finally got there and saw him, the thoughts and feelings that the girl was projecting to him even without knowing - how his muscles made her horny and the internal fight she always had when she felt attracted by him - were feeding his obsession with her. But all good things must come to an end, and it happened when Cardo took y/n out of her trance, not before she could see the smile on his face, the sight of it bringing back the memories of the kiss in her mind.

Things took a different turn when his knight told her what they would train making her mind go elsewhere and the vulnerability Kylo had seen on her features the night when he had touched her ‘K’ shaped scar to be explicit on her face once again. The type of vulnerability that caused his protective side to get the best of him. Tuning in with the force, the dark knight could see the memories replaying through y/n’s head. The way she had been adopted, how she trained to become the woman she was today with all those killing skills, but above all of that, he could feel her mourn, how much she missed the woman called Jurney and he could imagine how much she had meant to the bounty hunter just by looking at the tattoo on her cleavage.

When the h/c haired woman started to shoot with her knives, however, he could see once again how alike they were. Just like him, she used training to distract herself from all the demons haunting her, the effort brought them both a sense of peace they hardly ever felt. And just like all the other times he had seen her skills, he was very aroused by the scene, the way she got every and each one of the targets was truly impressive and Kylo was hardly ever impressed. That was one of the things he liked about her, differently of most of the people he was surrounded by, she never failed to impress and surprise the man who had seen and done everything you could possibly think about. He craved her so bad it ached, but he had to be patient and Kylo knew it, she would eventually give in and then, she would realize that they were two forces meant to be together.

His favorite part of the training, however, was when she challenged him and his knight, making everything so much more exciting.

-- --

You were so ready for this, amusement filled your body as you watched the two knights get into their protective and heavy training gear, the equipment would definitely slow their movements even if just a little, it was massive even for the pair. Your pockets were already full of training knives while your holster held your blaster, this was going to be great. “Ready, mister robots?” you asked mocking their ridiculous clothes. “We sure are ready to let you down, troublemaker” Cardo replied trying to get to your nerves, but ultimately failing, you were too confident. “You wish” was all you said back while you waited for them to get into their positions. Soon enough, you were all ready.

Adrenaline was pumping in your veins and you got yourself focused, much like a predator hunting its prey, your whole body language changed, your senses were now sharp and you were in a very composed posture. As they started to move so did you, but you weren’t going to chase them, if necessary they would be the ones to come to you. Your body shifted towards Cardo while getting away from Ren smoothly and soon a knife met your friend’s right leg, but you didn’t give him time to properly react, before he could get away, you picked up your blaster giving a ‘deadly’ shoot directly in his chest. As soon as he left the mat with a grumpy face, your body turned to Kylo, his reflexes were sharper than Cardo’s and you knew that, so you had to get him before he got you. Knowing that he was famous for not being patient, you played with him, aiming in non lethal places and sometimes getting them right, but mostly you ran from him waiting for the moment that he would do something stupid moved by anger. You had had to wait for a while, but eventually, as you presumed, his feelings got the best of him causing him to charge to you. Smoothly you got out of his way, but your plan was busted when a strong arm brought you to the ground with him, quickly you remembered your hand to hand combat lessons with Cado and in instants you were sat in his back with your blaster on his neck and a knife right below his lungs.

“You’re dead” you said trying to ignore the fact that the parts of your body which had touched his were burning and that desire was clouding your better judgment. “Great job” he said, and on the contrary of what you had imagined to see on his features, his eyes were burning with hunger, and you knew exactly what he was starving for - you -. What you, unfortunately, couldn’t deny was that you were just as hungry for him. Cardo was the one to interrupt the intense eye contact going on between you and Kylo saying his goodbyes and awkwardly leaving the room.

Suddenly, Kylo’s body was against yours, on instinct your legs surrounded his hips as your lips met his in a fervent kiss. Your tongues were fighting for dominance while the man rubbed his aching member against yours, causing you both to moan during the kiss. You let your hands explore his wyde back as his plushy lips left yours to connect with your neck, Kylo was sucking and biting on it sending a shock of pleasure right to your needy cunt still grinding with his hard and enormous cock.

“Ahem, Supreme Leader” the disgusting monotonous voice you had wished to never listen again got you out of your trance, automatically making your arousal fade away and causing Ren’s lips to leave your neck now full of red marks as his head turned to face a very angry General Hux. “What is it now, Hux?” the man gritted through his teeth. “If you are done playing, Ren, you are needed in a very important meeting” the general answered clearly disgusted with what he had seen. “Fine, I’ll meet you there, now get the hell away”. As soon as Kylo finished his sentence, he let go of his grip on your hips letting you get back to the ground. So much for your one time thing rule.

As a stormtrooper walked you back to your quarters your mind was trying to answer a big question: were you grateful for Hux’s intromission or not?

#kylo ren #kylo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo x you #crowned by the devil #armitage hux #general hux #cardo #knights of ren #star wars #adam driver

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iam-kenough · 4 years ago

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Will you ever notice me? (Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character)

Summary: Dutch and his boys found a girl hidden inside wrecked shack near their camp. She introduces herself as Iris and starts leading outlaw life with Van der Linde gang, quickly developing feelings towards one, special cowboy. However there is big year gap between them and Arthur sees Iris just as a kid...And girl won’t take that!

Authors notes: I updated two chapters today and I hope few of those who read this story will be happy! It’s just another chapter and you can find the rest of them following masterlist on my blog if you want to read more of my fanfiction. Hope you gonna enjoy it! Words count:2921 Chapter 13 Arthur Morgan wasn't leading the best life. It was full of danger, stress and runaways. Man did many things wrong, not looking after Eliza and Isaac to start with, not learning a lesson to not fuck with young girls as it will ruin their life. And there was Arthur, clinging onto memory of his last fallout with Iris. It was something horrible, something that dragged him down for couple days now. Arthur really wanted to talk with Iris but every time he saw her alone, he couldn't. He had lump in his throat just by looking at girl and when was just sure about what he's gonna say, he forgot all the words. But maybe there were none? Maybe he fucked up another thing that was important to him and he had to cope with it? And finally, maybe it will be easier to shut her out?

She was sitting on the grass and washing up clothes, her hair falling onto her beauitful face. Arthur was worried that broken nose is gonna change her appearance but it was the same, it healed well and quickly as she had vigor in herself. Arthur started sketching Iris, hiding away from her gaze so he could memorize every of her feautures without being noticed.

She's leaving, he overheard, now for sure. The night after John's wedding she's gonna be long gone, moving to some big city. She's leaving even if only to became a waitress instead of robbing people and to live on her own.

All ideas he had were terrible. Arthur was thinking about stealing her money so Iris won't be able to leave so soon but he wanted her to stay and love him, not just make her life more miserable. He noticed piece of his own face reflecting in the mirror that he usually used for shaving and he felt disgusted with himself, putting object face down. Arthur overheard her sobbing in a tent one night and that was it. Do or die - Arthur said to himself, because if he's gonna leave her like that in this very moment, he's gonna become even worse cold motherfucker.

Cowboy peeked inside between two flaps and found Iris lying on the bed, makeup running down her cheeks, visibly drunk. She haven't notice him at first. She was holding a letter and one of he's shirts, cuddling with it.

- Can I come in? - he felt like an idiot even for asking that, knowing the answer. But there was still a blink of hope, right? Iris looked stuttered and embarassed when she noticed his presence but then her features softened. She was drinking again, but it was different. Iris got sentimental today rather than furious or playful and Arthur knew the feeling, he was getting like this too whe he had too much.

Arthur rested on the cot, near to her feet. Without any thinking he started carresing Iris's leg. - I'm okay, not need to pity me - she murmured after a while, wiping tears away, turning face into opposite direction from Arthur's gaze.

- You don't look like ''okay''. I feel like I can help even to pay for small piece of my faults...?

She was starving for his touch, that's why she straightened her legs so he would be more comfortable to reach them. They remained like this in another moment of silence, Arthurs fingers tickling girl's skin.

- Is that my shirt? - he asked, not getting the point of having it.

- Yes, I stole it from your tent last week. Yes, it might be creepy. But...I don't care what you think about me anymore - Iris mumbled.

- I ain't gettin' it, girl, it's just dirty shirt of mine - Arthur shaked his head, eyes widening.

- It's the closest thing to hugging you when I am drunk enough to fool myself it's you lying next to me. Helps me sleepin' too. Arthur rarely felt like falling apart to cry, but this was this moment. After all of that he was still in her heart and she associated him with safety. He decided he's gonna take a bit of luck and he aproached her slowly, takin' her into bear hug. Iris's hands curled around his chest in no time. Arthur was rocking her a little, stroking her hair and small of her back. Iris couldn't fight anymore, even she didn't have enough pride to push Arthur away and shut him out. Cpwboy was needed right now.

- What did I do to deserve it? - she whispered, her voice sad - I will do that again just to have you over even one more time in the future if you'd share this secret...

- You don't have to to do anythin'. I am the problem here, honey, not you - Arthur's voice was soothing as he planted kiss ontop of Iris's head.

- Arthur, I became homeless today - Iris suddenty changed topic, passing him a piece of paper. It was a poster with her face on it. "Iris Rhiannon/ from Van Der Linde Gang/ Wanted dead or alive/ 2000$".

- That means I have to take all money I saved and probably sell everything I own - girl said as noticed Arthur familiarised himself with poster - That thing I pulled out with the train couldn't work out without slapping me back. I should've know better.

- Iris, listen - Arthur cut in suddenly, maybe it wasn't the nicest but he didn't care, it was intentions that mattered now - I can help you.

- I'm not pregnant with your child anymore so there's no reason for you looking after me, Arthur. I'm gonna be fine... somehow - Iris hesistated like she tried to convince himself, not Morgan.

- You gonna be fine? Ah, goddamn, woman, don't try to be proud when you obviously need me! You can't even leave the camp now! - Arthur shaked his head, speaking impatiently but she backed off, visibly scared.

- Why did you come here yelling at me, I don't need you! - she pushed him away

- Jesus, I'm sorry - man lowered his tone right away - I just ain't gonna let it happen, money means nothin' to me now, okay? Let me save you - he demanded, cupping Iris's small hand with his bigger one.

Iris suddenly gave in and nodded, blushing briefly. Even if she wasn't thinking about accepting offer for real it was heartwarming and flattering that he tried to fight. Arthur decided he's gonna drink with her tonight, unless none of these words will come out. Man wasn't used to showing weakness, he'd rather be dominant asshole. So he took big gulp from the bottle, preparing for being more tender.

- If the bounty hunters are gonna come for you they won't simply kill you, they gonna take you to town and I'm gonna watch you hang, you know that? That's why I will help you and that's it. - he was giving her this fatherly speech, with low, demanding voice.

- Only if it'll make you feel better - Iris shrugged, tucking strand of hair behind her ear.

- It's not about me, Darlin' - he caressed girl's head, playing with one of locks - I will probably never gonna pay you back for my deeds so that's good start for me to be a better man, for you.

Iris took a place with her back against tent's wall and started looking at her nails with embarrassment. Her fantasies weren't going so far when she expected to see him, so now it was akward to sit next to him as all of those words didn't seem honest or true.

- Don't overthink it, even if it's gonna be only for now, 'kay?

- I guess you're right. If you are here, we could use this time better. They drank together that night and cuddled like they had no worries. Arthur was telling Iris stories about the craziest things he did with the gang so far, and she giggled, admiring he's composed face when he tried to collect thoughts to describe everything in best way. It seemed almost like they never argued, like man never hurt Iris so badly...like they were a real couple.

- That's why I don't like to see you risking your life. I was to close to dying stupid death many times in my life - Arthur said finally, eyes softing at sight of Iris's face.

- I kind of like it - Iris exclaimed and then she noticed how close to each other they were, their noses millimeters apart - I mean, the adrenaline rush - she finished slowly, looking at Arthur's lips.

Suddenly Arthur realized that if they would kiss he wouldn't mind. He smiled with charming manner and caressed Iris's arm, inhaling her scent floating in the air. She always smelled like honey and flowers.

Then their lips met, both surprised with reaction of opposite side. Arthur and Iris was kissing like they were starving and this act were supposed to feed them. Arthur started to purr like a cat, parting girls lips with his tongue, tangling fingers into her hair. Iris climbed on his lap right away, Arthur's hips between her tights as she was facing him and she deepened the kiss. They both started to sweat and their hands were running all around each other's bodies. Iris was trembling, melting away Arthur's body, playing with buttons of his shirt and with his suspenders. She moaned against his lips. It was hot, too hot and Arthur decided it has to stop or someone is gonna feel guilty in the morning.

- Iris, baby, we can't do that - he catched breath and tried to calm himself, ignoring her proximity and the fact he was horny as hell.

- Why? - girl asked, her face going sad and in pain in not time - I want you now...

- You just think you want me and I have one rule, I don't have sex when one of the sides is too drunk to decide about it properly - he explained, trying to look away from her cleavage right in front his eyes.

- What a gentelman you are - Iris said, backing off and resting on the edge of bed. Her back was facing Arthur right now. Girl was trying to collect her thoughts, surprised with an outcome of their actions but in very bad way. Like she was opening a present and there was nothing inside the box.

- I just don't want to use you, and-

- Just cut it. You don't want me and that's it - she shrugged, eyes pierced into the floor - but of course you don't.

- Oh - Arthur murmured to her ear, his warm breath ticklish- I want you more than ever, you can clearly see what you can do to me...

- If it was true you wouldn't stop. But it's all calculated, eh? Your feelings even don't behave like ones. You are... the coldest person I know.

- I would never turn you down, you know that - he started caressing her back with his lips, it gave Iris this weird sensation in her stomach.

- At morning when I saw my poster I thought I hit my rock bottom, but no. I did it right now - she giggled but there was nothing happy to it- I'm not even good enough for one night stand. I never expected being this low that man I consider as handsome doesn't even want to use me, hiding behind explanations. Guess life is full of surprises for me.

- How can you be like this? You want me to use you?! - Arthur was shoked and maybe even offened by the was Iris was thinking.

- I just thought for a moment it's somehow normal again. It felt normal, being like this with you. Don't bother yourself with any more explanations, please - Iris quickly wiped away her tears so he wouldn't see them - Goodnight, Arthur.

- Let me stay with you, please? - Arthur said with hope in the last word.

- If that's what you need - sgirl shaked her head with disappointment. Normally she would just chug on the bottle and fall asleep drunk but she just simply rested on the bed and curled up with his shirt. Arthur was unbelievable.

- I think that's what you need, eh, girl?

- I don't know anymore - she shrugged - But yea, stay. You are more than welcome.

Iris looked at him as he undressed to his union suit and she saw his chest peeking from between the buttons. She blushed and looked away. Arthur's skin was nicely tanned, soft and peppered with hair. Arthur run fingers through his hair and yawned. He looked incredible adorable when he was sleepy, 'cause it was one of those moments he fully let down his guard. She started feeling guilt, she had no right to have him and he was right turning her down. Iris suddenly appreciated the fact he lost enough time to figure out something smart and nice to tell her instead of that he's simply not interested in her anymore. Girl wouldn't sure if she would keep herself together if it were the words he would use. Real gentelman like Arthur wasn't meant for insufferable brat like her.

- What're you thinking about? - Arthur rested behind her back and closed the distance between them, Iris felt like wave of warmth is going through her body.

- Nothin' - she lied briefly - I guess... I'm too drunk to think. That's why I do that in the first place, I mean, drinking.

He hummed with aproval, burrying his face in crook of Iris's neck

- Wanna sleep already? This was a really long day for you.

It wasn't only guilt now, this feeling quickly mixed up with shame and realisation. They were lying in her bed, wearing only their undergarments and even in this very moment, he just cuddled her instead of tearing her apart like lover would do. Iris was no woman for him. Few minutes passed before brunette interrupted this tense silence.

- How are you feeling, Arthur? I mean, any coughing lately?

-...no. Surprisingly - he opened his eyes with realisation. He wasn't in pain anymore but lately so many things happened he couldn't even think about being sick. Untill now.

- Guess I did good. Feeding you with all those weird herbs back then - she stopped and collected her thoughts - I know you got TB. Or had it, as I see now, thanks to book you bought me for birthday.

Arthur got up quickly, his eyes full of questions. Like she just dropped the bomb.

- When you got back from being O'Driscolls hostage and I was taking care of you I noticed that you spit blood while you cough. I had to do something - she was playing with buttons of Arthur's shirt, the one she still cuddled instead of turning around to face him - Just wasn't sure it would work, so I observed you without letting you false hopes. But today I lie next to you and listen to your breath knowing I did good.

- You cured my tuberculosis?! H-how? I've been told I'm gonna die soon, so-

- And even with this thought you wouldn't have me tonight to be real gentelman, how sweet of you - she smirked and got up, grabbing bottle of booze from the floor - Goodnight, Arthur. Hope it's last time we see each other like this.

- Where are you going, eh? - Arthur got up and catched her arm, squeezing it. She hissed.

- Away from you, that's where. Everything you do is pushing me away and pulling me back when you have no one else to go, but...- she looked up into his eyes, those eyes devil would be proud to have and smiled sadly - I guess I can't do that anymore. Even if it means breaking up forever with you.

- What are you talking about, you can't just do that, you need my help! - Arthur spreaded his arms in gesture of disbelief.

- So give me it if it's really meaningless for you to pay two thousand dollars for my head. And then fuck off. But you wouldn't do that, will ya? You don't want to help me, you want to buy me so I'll keep meeting with you on those pathetic terms like nothing ever happened.

- What did I do now to deserve this? I am no saint but I came here today to help and all I get is this angry face of yours - Arthur's tone was showing visible irritation. Iris was the only person who could put him from peace to boiling anger in few seconds.

- Guess people don't work like that, Mr Morgan - Iris looked aside with unsure expression, like she was afraid to look at his face and see something in there - I still remember everything, despite fact loving you and... there will be a time for me I will have to run and don't look back. Not even after you.

- You still want to move? Even now? You are crazy, probably half of people around are waiting to catch you! - he gestured towards tent's entrace.

- So let them try, there is nothing much left of me anyway. You say I'm crazy pulling out stunts like I was a cat with 7 lifes behind my belt but no, I am doing that because I have only one and it's shitty as hell. Drink to that, Mr Morgan!

And with those words she left Arthur speechless, as he was looking after her silhuette fading away into the warm night.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan romance #arthur morgan fanficton #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fluff

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heck-damn-so-i-draw · 5 years ago

Text

Splitting up is something the crew does often when investigating a property of large scale, in legend or size, so it’s almost expected that they would do the same for this episode, but no one knew what terrible outcome this would have later.

Going up the creaky wooden stairs was easy, and David had gone up first so that Brian could watch his back. Marcel swore he could feel something press against his back, and so he tried to hurry the guys he was following up the stairs. Where he was touched then started to burn, and ache. “Ah shit, shit- oww- Fuck- Brian, Guys- Guys hang on I need you to come look at this.” He turns his back to Brian when the two Irishmen turn towards him, and pulls up the back of his shirt, exposing three long scratches down his back. “Oh my god-” David muttered while Brian gasped at the sight. Marcel panicked for a second. Jesus christ what did they find? “What is it-? What the fuck is it!?”

“Stay still will ye?” Brian stops him and holds him still by putting his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Gimmie the camera.” Marcel complies, wanting to look back on the feed to see what was so shocking. Brian takes the camera and carefully and without shaking, gets footage of the long scratches that intersect his spine. This is so fucked..

David is quick to get a vial of holy water out of his pocket (he brought up many for good reason), and pour the whole thing down marcel’s new wounds. “Fuck that stings like a- a a h-” The grown man complains, but tries not to curse as much as he really wants to. He drops his shirt and shivers, taking the camera back from brian, pausing the feed and looking a few seconds back to see it. His face drops, and even though he’s darker complected, his face seems to pale.

This can’t be real.. It almost makes him sick that the holy water stung the scratches. It shouldn’t sting, why does it sting? Ugh.. He’ll have to ask later, he’s starting to get a headache. He puts his hand over his forehead and jumps a bit when he feels a hand on his shoulder, but when he looks up it’s just a kind pale face of the irish priest. “Hey, are ye alright ‘dere bud?” David’s face is concerned as Marcel seems to try and find words, but nothing comes out. He’s fine, he’s conscious... right? To the world, he’s blank. Oh my god this is infuriating- He can barely hear David’s voice, so he shakes his head. “I- gotta get outta here..” He mumbles quietly, finally, jesus. “Brian take the- take the camera I gotta get out of this fucking place.” He shoves the camera at the other irishman, barely caring if the camera fell or not. David nodded at Brian before helping Marcel down the stairs. It’s too dangerous to be alone, but at least Brian can see what is attacking him.

“Careful there now, I gotcha, don’t wanna slip on these stairs, no, that’d be real bad.” David mutters to Marcel after the dizzy cameraman nearly falls.

Brian watches them leave him upstairs, alone, with nothing but a camera and his own abilities. Well… that’s not very helpful stress-wise, but he’s no more worried than he has been this whole time. The Irishman turns around to look up and down the hallway before trying to explore either side, when he’s jumpscared by the scarred up, distorted red face of the demon that’s been taunting them. It’s gone as quick as it came in a flash, but it leaves Brian to clutch the camera so hard in one hand that he starts to fear he’ll break it. Then out of the corner of his eye.. He sees the little shadow he saw from earlier, peeking out from behind a door. When the little shadow seems to face Brian, it suddenly slams the door shut. Brian flinches at the loud echoey bang, then nearly jumps out of his skin at the static crinkle of Evan’s voice trying to call him on the little walkie talkie he has.

“Come on hanby, calm down.” He tells himself, then shakily reaches for the walkie talkie attached to his belt loop. He brings it close to his face as he continues to look around in a paranoid state. He presses a button and it beeps, making a little light turn green and a bit more static. “What’d you say, Evan?”

He lets go of the button and a few seconds later Evan’s voice comes in again, staticy but still audible. “ ..What’s going on up there?..”

“Fockin’- Marcel got scratched pretty bad, started feelin’ sick so david took him back ta base.” Brian replies, then waits for Evan’s reply again.

It takes a second or two, meaning he’s probably talking to tyler about something.

“Fuck dude, alright, stay safe… Meet us downstairs in 10 minutes.” Awesome, great, now Brian can investigate this little guy in this room. After turning on the camera, He reaches for the doorknob, when the ghost from the porch comes back, angrily staring Brian down as if threatening him not to go any further. “Wha’s in here that y’er so mad about?” Brian asks himself mostly, confused as to what this ghost’s deal is. Brian reaches through the spirit, making it seemingly dissipate as he grabs the door handle.

Almost like whiplash, he’s thrown into a time that doesn’t feel like his own. The house around him looks so much more … new. What? He hears a loud thudding on the stairs, running up and coming towards him. Brian’s too scared of what it might be, so he quickly throws the door open and runs in, shutting the door behind him and locking it. His breathing is heavy, but he feels someone.. Else.. in the room. He slowly turns around, to see a young boy, no older than 11, sitting in the corner of the room. Bloody bandages are wrapped around the left side of his face, Scratched up little hands clutching an old squirrel plushie. Pounding starts on the door, aggressive pounding and a muffled voice that Brian can’t quite make out. He backs away from the door a bit in fear, and steps over to the little boy, crouching low to his level. “Something terrible must have happened ‘ere..” He mumbles, and the little boy just starts to cry softly, a cry which echoes in the room, echoes in Brian’s ears. Screaming persists somewhere outside the room, and Brian is pulled back to reality, his pale hand on the door handle, clutching it so hard it might break off.

He swallows hard and takes his trembling hand off of it, steps away from the door, and rubs his face. “Focking hell…”

~~~

Meanwhile downstairs, Evan and Tyler have a concern of their own. The kitchen is dark and even without the flashlight, you can see that everything is a mess. There are symbols on the walls, symbols that neither man understands, but are scared by anyway. The bright yellow light from Evan’s flashlight stretches over details of the old 1900’s looking kitchen. There are mysterious red stains on the floor and glass everywhere, accompanied by the usual 100 year accumulation of dirt and structural damage. Someone had destroyed this kitchen. If not recently then repeatedly over a few years. “Jesus christ..” Tyler says while he looks around with his camera. Then in the far side of the room, there seems to be a large, white metal door. A little window to see inside at the top of the door, but painted over it messily is a black Ω. As Evan starts to walk towards it a loud SLAM! Can be heard from upstairs. It makes both men jump and twist towards the sound. Evan immediately grabs the walkie talkie off his hip and presses the button on it to talk. “Brian? Brian what the fuck was that?”

He lets go of the button and hears only static until Brian’s voice comes through.

“What’d ye say, Evan?”

“What’s going on up there?”

“Fockin’- Marcel got scratched pretty bad, started feelin’ sick so david took him back ta base.”

Tyler and Evan exchange a look and Tyler shakes his head. “This is so fucked, man.”

“Fuck dude, alright, stay safe… Meet us downstairs in 10 minutes.” Evan tells Brian, and puts the walkie talkie back on his hip. He feels a whisper in his ear and freezes for a second as he listens to it..

“You sure you boys don’t have any beaaannss?”

Fuck, the homeless ghost. Evan chooses to ignore it for now. “Alright we’ve got 10 minutes to get this thing open and see what’s inside.” Evan tells his buddy, then offers to take the camera by holding out his hand. “Get the - the one thing.”

“The one thing?”

“You know what I mean, Tyler.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and takes off his backpack. Yeah, he knows what Evan means. He takes out the pair of home depot specialty bolt cutters and takes them to the chain of the door that’s locking the freezer shut. “Hopefully there isn’t a dead body in here.”

The chains fall to the ground and echo in the kitchen. “Wait, don’t open it yet. I hear someone.” Evan takes a step closer to the door when he hears the faint and tired cry muffled behind it. This is a different voice...

“H..lp...please…”

If Evan didn’t know any better, he’d say this voice belonged to that of someone living, but… there’s no way.

“Open it.” Evan instructs, pointing the camera at the handle and Tyler’s hand. Tyler sighs.

“Oh we are so gonna find a dead body in here, fuuuck..”

Tyler pulls on the door handle, and finds just how stuck it is. Whoever was in here really had no hope of getting out. Tyler pulls harder, and harder when that doesn’t work. He’s straining and when a vein on his neck seems like it’s about to burst, the door pops open. Tyler lets go of the handle and breaths for a second before getting in between the door and door frame, and pushes the door open the rest of the way. Then he moves out of the way and gestures at it. “Well there you go, go in.”

Please Evan, go in, tyler has a bad feeling about it and refuses to say it.

It’s musty and smells like death, a dusty death, about a 100 years old. Or something like that.

Evan gives him a look and then shines his flashlight into the pitch darkness. The light shows nothing at first, an empty room with nothing on its shelves. It’s disturbing in its own right. It’s still a bit cold, but it seems even colder for some reason, even though there’d been no power in here for who knows how long. “Well, no dead bodies- oH FUCK.” The light had been gleamed into every corner of the room, but it wasn’t until it reached the closest corner to them that it found something.

A dry skeleton, dressed up in very old and moth eaten clothes, a black bowtie, and a strange bandana over its eyes. Rat’s nest concealed under the bones of its ribcage and shirt fabric.

“Oh my god…” Tyler looks at it and both men go pale. Evan feels a hand on his shoulder, and when he turns to look at Tyler, Tyler is frozen in place.. Hands to his side.

“Thank you.”

Something whispers into his ear, and then it no longer feels so cold.

☠ ⛥̶̙̙̔́⛥̵̨͎̆́Ś̵̪̱̅ǭ̴̀m̵͓͙̍̅ĕ̶͍̿t̵̟̙͐͋h̴̹̉ị̴̌̈n̷͈̯͛̏g̷͎͖͗ ̸̗͗̽͜d̴̡̻͝į̸͆d̴̠̩̈́n̶̠͗͑'̸͈͐́ẗ̷̜́ ̴̣͖̄l̵̨͇͒i̷̮͕͆̍k̴̯͐͘ẹ̷̦̃͌ ̷̨̞̐̆t̴̰̚h̵̯͆͒ȁ̷͓̀ͅt̶͖̠̓.̶͈̖͂ ̷͇̌͐Ŝ̶̘̱ó̸̘͒m̵̜̊e̸̹͛͌t̵̺̄h̶̞̓͛ì̶̡̹͛n̸͎̒ǧ̷̣̭̏ ̴̣̅̇d̶̛͓̖̋i̵͈̰̅̉d̶̞̗̃n̶̪͆'̵̘̩̈́̓t̴̬̮́ ̵̝̘͋l̸̡̔̏i̵͕̓k̸̞̀͆e̵͓̖͊͠ ̵̢̹͐̕t̴̙̦̀͊h̶̗̀ã̴̗̅t̴̤̋̄͜.̷͙̈́͝ ̷̼̪̑S̷̼̃̓O̴͚͛̓M̶̜̀E̸̹̓̓T̷̘̪̋H̸̼̽I̸̭͎͗̐Ņ̶̜͊̀Ǵ̸̫̼ ̶̩̊̈́D̸̟̖̾̓I̷̗̰̾D̶̙̃N̶͍̺̒́'̵̭͗͝T̷̞̜̍͝ ̶̲͚́̐Ļ̷̲̍̑I̵̛͎͓K̵̞͂Ë̷̺̻͌ ̷̧̜̒T̶̗͌Ḥ̵̣͊̓A̷̟̘͠T̷͔͊.̶̙͓̎⛧̷̛ͅ⛧̸̙͘͜⛥̷͈͂ ⛧

Suddenly both men are hit with a smashing headache and nausea, somewhere in the house, or all around them that they can’t pinpoint, now can be heard a loud growl, and a crash.

Without even looking at the other, Evan and Tyler both run out of the kitchen.. And are met with a horrific sight.

~STAY TUNED FOR PART 8~

(◠ω◠✿)

Wanna read the whole story but dont wanna scroll through Tumblr? Here!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1BtwQY83MEgIH46KdMA3NPKInBf0i3jiBrdgj3EoJiCo/edit?usp=drivesdk

Comments, sharing, and advice is very appreciated!!

Hope this was worth the wait OwO

#bbs ghost adventures au #terroriser #bbs terroriser #bbs iamwildcat #iamwildcat #basicallyidowrk #bbs basicallyidowrk #h2odelirious #vanossgaming #ohmwrecker #deadsquirrel #bbs cartoonz #cartoonz #reblogs appreciated!#daithi de nogla

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deniscollins · 5 years ago

Text

Who Killed the Knapp Family?

The stock market is near record highs, but working-class Americans (often defined as those without college degrees) continue to struggle. If you’re only a high school graduate, or worse, a dropout, work no longer pays. If the federal minimum wage in 1968 had kept up with inflation and productivity, it would now be $22 an hour. Instead, it’s $7.25. In some ways, the situation is worsening, because families have imploded under the pressure of drug and alcohol abuse, and children are growing up in desperate circumstances. It would be easy but too simplistic to blame just automation and lost jobs: The problems are also rooted in disastrous policy choices over 50 years. If you owned a business, what, if anything, could you do to address this situation?

Chaos reigned daily on the No. 6 school bus, with working-class boys and girls flirting and gossiping and dreaming, brimming with mischief, bravado and optimism. Nick rode it every day in the 1970s with neighbors here in rural Oregon, neighbors like Farlan, Zealan, Rogena, Nathan and Keylan Knapp.

They were bright, rambunctious, upwardly mobile youngsters whose father had a good job installing pipes. The Knapps were thrilled to have just bought their own home, and everyone oohed and aahed when Farlan received a Ford Mustang for his 16th birthday.

Yet today about one-quarter of the children on that No. 6 bus are dead, mostly from drugs, suicide, alcohol or reckless accidents. Of the five Knapp kids who had once been so cheery, Farlan died of liver failure from drink and drugs, Zealan burned to death in a house fire while passed out drunk, Rogena died from hepatitis linked to drug use and Nathan blew himself up cooking meth. Keylan survived partly because he spent 13 years in a state penitentiary.

Among other kids on the bus, Mike died from suicide, Steve from the aftermath of a motorcycle accident, Cindy from depression and a heart attack, Jeff from a daredevil car crash, Billy from diabetes in prison, Kevin from obesity-related ailments, Tim from a construction accident, Sue from undetermined causes. And then there’s Chris, who is presumed dead after years of alcoholism and homelessness. At least one more is in prison, and another is homeless.

We Americans are locked in political combat and focused on President Trump, but there is a cancer gnawing at the nation that predates Trump and is larger than him. Suicides are at their highest rate since World War II; one child in seven is living with a parent suffering from substance abuse; a baby is born every 15 minutes after prenatal exposure to opioids; America is slipping as a great power.

We have deep structural problems that have been a half century in the making, under both political parties, and that are often transmitted from generation to generation. Only in America has life expectancy now fallen three years in a row, for the first time in a century, because of “deaths of despair.”

“The meaningfulness of the working-class life seems to have evaporated,” Angus Deaton, the Nobel Prize-winning economist, told us. “The economy just seems to have stopped delivering for these people.” Deaton and the economist Anne Case, who is also his wife, coined the term “deaths of despair” to describe the surge of mortality from alcohol, drugs and suicide.

The kids on the No. 6 bus rode into a cataclysm as working-class communities disintegrated across America because of lost jobs, broken families, gloom — and failed policies. The suffering was invisible to affluent Americans, but the consequences are now evident to all: The survivors mostly voted for Trump, some in hopes that he would rescue them, but under him the number of children without health insurance has risen by more than 400,000.

We were foreign correspondents together for many years, periodically covering humanitarian crises in distant countries. Then we would return to the Kristof family farm in Yamhill and see a humanitarian crisis unfolding in a community we loved — and a similar unraveling was happening in towns across the country. This was not one town’s problem, but a crisis in the American system.

“I’m a capitalist, and even I think capitalism is broken,” says Ray Dalio, the founder of Bridgewater, the world’s largest hedge fund.

Even in this presidential campaign, the unraveling of working-class communities receives little attention. There is talk about the middle class, but very little about the working class; we discuss college access but not the one in seven children who don’t graduate from high school. America is like a boat that is half-capsized, but those partying above water seem oblivious.

“We have to stop being obsessed over impeachment and start actually digging in and solving the problems that got Donald Trump elected in the first place,” Andrew Yang argued in the last Democratic presidential debate. Whatever you think of Yang as a candidate, on this he is dead right: We have to treat America’s cancer.

In some ways, the situation is worsening, because families have imploded under the pressure of drug and alcohol abuse, and children are growing up in desperate circumstances. One of our dearest friends in Yamhill, Clayton Green, a brilliant mechanic who was three years behind Nick in school, died last January, leaving five grandchildren — and all have been removed from their parents by the state for their protection. A local school official sighs that some children are “feral.”

Farlan, the oldest of the Knapp children, was in Nick’s grade. A talented woodworker, he dreamed of opening a business called “Farlan’s Far Out Fantastic Freaky Furniture.” But Farlan ended up dropping out of school after the ninth grade.

Although he never took high school chemistry, Farlan became a first-rate chemist: He was one of the first people in the Yamhill area to cook meth. For a time he was a successful entrepreneur known for his high quality merchandise. “This is what I was made for,” he once announced with quiet pride. But he abused his own drugs and by his 40s was gaunt and frail.

In some ways, he was a great dad, for he loved his two daughters, Amber and Andrea, and they idolized him. But theirs was not an optimal upbringing: In one of Amber’s baby pictures, there’s a plate of cocaine in the background.

Farlan died of liver failure in 2009, just after his 51st birthday, and his death devastated both daughters. Andrea, who was smart, talented, gorgeous and entrepreneurial, ran her own real estate business but accelerated her drinking after her dad died. “She drank herself to death,” her uncle Keylan told us. She was buried in 2013 at the age of 29.

In the 1970s and ’80s it was common to hear derogatory suggestions that the forces ripping apart African-American communities were rooted in “black culture.” The idea was that “deadbeat dads,” self-destructive drug abuse and family breakdown were the fundamental causes, and that all people needed to do was show “personal responsibility.”

A Harvard sociologist, William Julius Wilson, countered that the true underlying problem was lost jobs, and he turned out to be right. When good jobs left white towns like Yamhill a couple of decades later because of globalization and automation, the same pathologies unfolded there. Men in particular felt the loss not only of income but also of dignity that accompanied a good job. Lonely and troubled, they self-medicated with alcohol or drugs, and they accumulated criminal records that left them less employable and less marriageable. Family structure collapsed.

It would be easy but too simplistic to blame just automation and lost jobs: The problems are also rooted in disastrous policy choices over 50 years. The United States wrested power from labor and gave it to business, and it suppressed wages and cut taxes rather than invest in human capital, as our peer countries did. As other countries embraced universal health care, we did not; several counties in the United States have life expectancies shorter than those in Cambodia or Bangladesh.

One consequence is that the bottom end of America’s labor force is not very productive, in ways that reduce our country’s competitiveness. A low-end worker may not have a high school diploma and is often barely literate or numerate while also struggling with a dependency; more than seven million Americans also have suspended driver’s licenses for failing to pay child support or court-related debt, meaning that they may not reliably show up at work.

Americans also bought into a misconceived “personal responsibility” narrative that blamed people for being poor. It’s true, of course, that personal responsibility matters: People we spoke to often acknowledged engaging in self-destructive behaviors. But when you can predict wretched outcomes based on the ZIP code where a child is born, the problem is not bad choices the infant is making. If we’re going to obsess about personal responsibility, let’s also have a conversation about social responsibility.

Why did deaths of despair claim Farlan, Zealan, Nathan, Rogena and so many others? We see three important factors.

First, well-paying jobs disappeared, partly because of technology and globalization but also because of political pressure on unions and a general redistribution of power toward the wealthy and corporations.

Second, there was an explosion of drugs — oxycodone, meth, heroin, crack cocaine and fentanyl — aggravated by the reckless marketing of prescription painkillers by pharmaceutical companies.

Third, the war on drugs sent fathers and mothers to jail, shattering families.

There’s plenty of blame to go around. Both political parties embraced mass incarceration and the war on drugs, which was particularly devastating for black Americans, and ignored an education system that often consigned the poor — especially children of color — to failing schools. Since 1988, American schools have become increasingly segregated by race, and kids in poor districts perform on average four grade levels behind those in rich districts.

Farlan’s daughter Amber seemed to be the member of the Knapp family most poised for success. She was the first Knapp ever to graduate from high school, and then she took a job at a telecommunications company, managing databases and training staff members to use computer systems. We were struck by her intellect and interpersonal skills; it was easy to imagine her as a lawyer or a business executive.

“PowerPoint presentations and Excel and pivot charts and matrix analytics, that’s what I like to do,” she told us. She married and had three children, and for a time was thriving.

Then in grief after her father and sister died, she imploded. A doctor had prescribed medications like Xanax, and she became dependent on them. After running out of them, she began smoking meth for the first time when she was 32.

“I was dead set against it my whole life,” she remembered. “I hated it. I’d seen what it did to everybody. My dad was a junkie who cooked meth and lost everything. You would think that was enough.” It wasn’t. She bounced in and out of jail and lost her kids.

Amber knew she had blown it, but she was determined to recover her life and her children. We had hoped that Amber would claw her way back, proof that it is possible to escape the messiness of the Knapp family story and build a successful life. We texted Amber a few times to arrange to get photos of Farlan, and then she stopped replying to our texts. Finally, her daughter responded: Amber was back in jail.

Yet it’s not hopeless. America is polarized with ferocious arguments about social issues, but we should be able to agree on what doesn’t work: neglect and underinvestment in children. Here’s what does work.

Job training and retraining give people dignity as well as an economic lifeline. Such jobs programs are common in other countries.

For instance, autoworkers were laid off during the 2008-9 economic crisis both in Detroit and across the Canadian border in nearby Windsor, Ontario. As the scholar Victor Tan Chen has showed, the two countries responded differently. The United States focused on money, providing extended unemployment benefits. Canada emphasized job retraining, rapidly steering workers into new jobs in fields like health care, and Canadian workers also did not have to worry about losing health insurance.

Canada’s approach succeeded. The focus on job placement meant that Canadian workers were ushered more quickly back into workaday society and thus today seem less entangled in drugs and family breakdown.

Another successful strategy is investing not just in prisons but also in human capital to keep people out of prisons. The highest-return investments available in America may be in early education for disadvantaged children, but there are also valuable interventions available for adolescents and adults. We attended a thrilling graduation in Tulsa, Okla., for 17 women completing an impressive local drug treatment program called Women in Recovery.

The graduates had an average of 15 years of addiction each, and all were on probation after committing crimes. Yet they had quit drugs and started jobs, and 300 people in the audience — including police officers who had arrested them and judges who had sentenced them — gave the women a standing ovation. The state attorney general served as the commencement speaker and called them “heroes,” drawing tearful smiles from women more accustomed to being called “junkies” or “whores.”

“I thought we’d be planning a funeral instead,” said one audience member whose younger sister had started using meth at age 12 and was now graduating at 35. Women in Recovery has a recidivism rate after three years of only 4 percent, and consequently has saved Oklahoma $70 million in prison spending, according to the George Kaiser Family Foundation.

Bravo for philanthropy, but the United States would never build interstate highways through volunteers and donations, and we can’t build a national preschool program or a national drug recovery program with private money. We need the government to step up and jump-start nationwide programs in early childhood education, job retraining, drug treatment and more.

For individuals trying to break an addiction, a first step is to face up to the problem — and that’s what America should do as well. Our own reporting in the past focused on foreigners, affording us an emotional distance, while this time we spoke with old friends and had no armor. It has been wrenching to see them struggle. But ultimately we saw pathways forward that leave us hopeful.

One of our dear friends in Yamhill was Rick (Ricochet) Goff, who was part Indian and never had a chance: His mom died when he was 5 and his dad was, as he put it, “a professional drunk” who abandoned the family. Ricochet was a whiz at solving puzzles and so dependable a friend that he would lend pals money even when he couldn’t afford medicine for himself. We deeply felt Ricochet’s loss when he died four years ago, and we also worried about his adult son, Drew, who is smart and charismatic but had been messing with drugs since he was 12.

Drew’s son, Ashtyn, was born with drugs in his system, and we feared that the cycle of distress was now being passed on to the next generation. We exchanged letters with Drew while he was in prison but lost touch.

Then, when we were visiting a drug-treatment program in Oregon called Provoking Hope, a young man bounded over to us. “It’s me, Drew,” he said.

We have been close with Drew since, and he fills us with optimism. With the help of Provoking Hope, Drew will soon celebrate two years free of drugs, and he holds a responsible job at the front desk of a hotel. He has custody of Ashtyn and is now an outstanding dad, constantly speaking to him and playing with him. Drew still has a tempestuous side, and occasionally he has some rash impulse — but then he thinks of Ashtyn and reins himself in.

“I’m a work in progress,” he told us. “The old me wants to act out, and I won’t allow that.”

Drew keeps moving forward, and we believe he’s going to thrive along with Ashtyn, breaking the cycle that had enmeshed his family for generations. With support and balance, this can be done — if we as a society are willing to offer help, not just handcuffs.

“It’s a tightrope I’m walking on,” Drew said. “And sometimes it seems to be made of fishing line.”

#Working Class poverty

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idontknowwhatsarcasmis · 6 years ago

Text

Heeeeello everyone!!

I said I’d get both fics out before Endgame and damn it, I WILL!!!

..Ahem… Did you guys like Captain Marvel? It was amaaazing! =D Go watch!

Anyways, here’s another chapter! This time we follow the events that happened in Civil War, not as closely as the other ones cause Maria doesn’t actually appear, BUT we do get to meet the kids!

I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you like it!

Don’t forget to comment =D

Ao3

Ff.net

Captain America: Civil War

Maria smiled as she watched her kids run around the backyard, their laughter so free and happy that she just couldn’t help but join in. Sometimes, she still couldn’t believe any of it. Just one year ago these two had been made orphans; homeless, sad and confused beyond calculation by the battle of Sokovia. It was as Nat and her were helping out the civilians move to a safer and more stabilized location that her wife had seen them.

Two little kids, siblings, hugging each other, scared eyes darting around between the officers, agents and other refugees running about. At the ages of 3 and 6, they had no clue what was truly happening. Nat had taken one look at them before walking over, Maria following right behind. Brother and sister had looked up at her and her wife with so much hope that Maria just wanted to hug them and never let go, which was completely new to her. Even if they had been talking about adopting, Maria did not expect this surge of maternal feelings. She couldn’t even guess what people at SHIELD would say I they knew that the hard-ass Commander Hill had just about melted at the sight of two little kids.

They had had to carry on, however; there was a new base to settle, a house to build, and Avengers to organize. Once they sat down to talk about kids more seriously though, Nat’s subtle comment on the possible orphans that’d been originated from the tragedy did not go by unnoticed by Maria. Her memory of the siblings was still as fresh as Natasha’s obviously was.

As she had guessed, knowing Pepper had made everything that much easier. In no time at all, she’d been able to locate the siblings they’d described, and less than a week later, Kaelan and Nichole were being properly introduced to them. All four were nervous and scared, but it worked out well enough; the kids seemed to remember them, and were quick to get attached. Kaelan held Natasha’s hand with all his 3-year-old might, and Nichole had her arms tightly around Maria’s waist.

The Avengers – and even Fury! – were always showing up with toys, clothes and other gifts. Maria was actually worried about spoiling the kids, but she could never bring herself to say no once she saw their happy little faces.

Despite their crazy jobs and even crazier extended family, Maria would say they were doing quite a good job.

A pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and a chin settled snugly on her shoulder.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?”

Maria smirked.

“Are you on your tiptoes?”

Silence. Pouty silence.

The taller woman laughed.

“I guess they have whom to take after in their adorable-ness.” Maria said as she turned around to find the narrowed eyes of her wife directed at her. With a smile, she kissed pouting lips, hugging Natasha tightly to properly welcome her home.

They were silent for a minute, just listening to the kids still running around outside, birds on nearby trees chirping, and the calmness and tranquillity that was their home.

Taking a deep breath, Maria backed away from the embrace to look at the other woman.

“How was it?”

Natasha frowned and Maria’s stomach dropped. That was not a good sign.

“It wasn’t good, Masha. Things got a little out of control over there, and I think they’re going to ask us to sign a treaty to obey the government or something.” Maria’s eyebrow rose at that. “Steve and Tony are butting heads already.”

“Steve and Tony are always butting heads.”

“Not like this.” Natasha said, voice low. Maria frowned, she did not like that tone.

“Nat?”

“I don’t know, Masha… something doesn’t feel right.”

They were silent for a while again, while Maria processed this information.

“Nat?”

“Hm?”

“What do you think of it?”

Natasha met her eyes, and Maria’s heart clenched at the turmoil she saw there. The smaller woman started to shake her head and open her mouth, but she never got the chance to speak.

A little ball of energy had just banged the door open and jumped straight to Natasha’s now awaiting arms. Thank god for spy reflexes.

“Momma, you’re back!” Kaelan’s excited little voice sounded so delighted, that the tension in the room lifted at once, bringing smiles to both women’s faces.

“So I am, little man! Have you been behaving?” She asked, just as their daughter came inside as well, a little less exuberant in her entrance, but also timidly seeking Natasha’s embrace.

“Yes! We both have, right Nicky?” Kaelan asked, his chubby cheeks red with exertion after running outside all day.

The girl attempted to roll her eyes, making both Maria and Natasha smile more – she’d totally gotten that from Maria, which was something that she wasn’t yet quite sure if she was proud of or not.

“I suppose you kinda did. I behaved more though!” She said, smiling. “Right, mamma?”

Maria just smiled and raised her hands in surrender, laughing as her daughter looked outraged – that was all Natasha.

“How long are you staying, momma?” Kaelan asked, and Maria knew she shouldn’t, knew it’d make it harder for Natasha to answer, but her eyes followed her kids’ to her wife.

She couldn’t help it. She missed her.

Natasha took her time looking at all of them; Maria could tell that her mind was going as fast as it could, calculating all the possible scenarios. It felt like an eternity, but it was just a couple of seconds before their eyes met. Maria knew she’d come to a decision.

“Not long right now, malen’kiy. But,“ She added quickly as both of the kids’ expressions soured. “After this next trip? I promise I’ll be around more. A lot more.” Natasha looked at her again, and Maria felt a smile coming to her lips.

She was choosing them.

Xxxx

“Did you tell him I sent a hug?” Maria asked as soon as the line connected.

“Yes, of course.” Her wife’s voice was neutral.

Maria waited.

“He apologized for not signing. Sent hello to the kids and an apology for not being able to go visit soon, too.” She continued.

Maria made a noncommittal sound. She heard shuffling from the other end, as if Natasha was moving to a quieter place.

“I’m scared, Masha.”

Maria’s shoulders dropped. Taking a deep breath, she answered.

“I know, Nat. I’m behind you, though. You know that.”

“Yeah…” She trailed off. “We need to take responsibility for our actions. For the consequences of our decisions.” Maria heard her take a breath. “It is the right decision.” A beat, and then, “Right?”

Maria was silent for a while.

“Nat,” Maria paused, looking at the two sleeping kids before closing the door and pacing towards the master bedroom. They’d already been over this, but if her wife needed to hear it again, she’d give her that. “When you decided to take up SHIELD’s offer, you made the call that you’d feel better with someone there to watch over you. To make sure you wouldn’t go astray. To clean your ledger. It worked. Time and time again, you proved – to yourself and to others – that you had control back. You also had people at your back then. You knew we wouldn’t let you take responsibility for things by yourself. You gained the trust of everyone there in little over a year. Including that of the director and his deputy, you know.” She added the last bit as an afterthought, hoping to lift some of the heaviness she felt on this conversation. The small but present chuckle on the other side of the line showed she was somewhat successful.

“It did work. Even got a wife to boot.” Natasha quipped, and Maria felt her shoulders relax a little.

“Indeed. What better outcome could you possibly have asked for?”

Natasha’s chuckle was a bit stronger now, and Maria finally laid down on their bed.

“I love you.” And I really miss you Maria thought, eyes closed.

“I love you too.” Came the breathy response.

Pause.

“Maria?”

“Hum?”

“What if it doesn’t work in the long run?”

Pause.

“Well, Nick does owe us a favour after hooking the two little one’s into chocolate the last time he visited… he’ll totally have to bail all of us out of whatever mess we get into.”

“Us?” Her voice was so small and so unlike Natasha that it made Maria’s heart clench.

“Always. We’re a team, Nat. It’s grown, but we’re a team now more than ever. The four of us will always have each other’s back. Always.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.”

Instead of hanging up like Maria thought she would, Natasha asked her to talk. To tell her about what their kids had been up to the past few days, and so she did. Maria talked until her eyes started to get heavy, her words slurred, and the sounds around her seemed to dimmer.

“Sweet dream, Masha.”

With a smile on her face, Maria let dreams take her.

Xxxx

Nothing ever went as planned, though. Maria was never so glad for the time difference that meant their kids were still asleep, because otherwise she’d have to fill their swear jar to the brink with how much she cursed as she watched the news, heart beating faster than it had in a very long time. Natasha was right there. In that room. That had just exploded. Probably in a front seat. The phone was in her hand, pressing down button 1 before she was even aware of it.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” Maria started chanting as she paced around the room. As soon as the line called ‘busy’, Maria was already dialling again. And again, and again, until the fourth time, when it finally connected.

“I’m okay.” Her wife’s voice, breathless and muffled by screams, was the sweetest sound Maria had ever heard. Before she could say anything, however, Natasha continued. “Give me five minutes babe, I’ll call you back. I promise you I’m unharmed. Love you.” And the line went dead.

It took all of Maria’s training for her not to throw her phone at the wall. Natasha was alive and well, and she’d call her back. She had to focus on that. She took a deep breath, glancing at the old clock on the wall. Leaving behind the work Nick had asked her to do, she made her way upstairs towards the kids’ room, carefully opening the door.

Inside, both were still sleeping. Kaelan had his thumb in his mouth, looking very content and peaceful, and Nichole, as always, had the duvet covering her whole head. The slight movements of their blankets and the serene silence that enveloped her as she looked at her children allowed Maria to breath. To calm herself. Her wife was alive, and she’d be back to them soon. She knew it. With a small, tight smile, Maria closed the door silently and walked back to her office, turning the telly off before making her way to her room. Her work could wait a few minutes. Closing the door there, she sat in the middle of the bed, phone in hand, and waited.

As soon as five minutes had passed, the phone was by her ear, call accepted before the first ring had even a chance to complete.

“Babe-“

“I’m alright, Masha. I promise. The only thing that hit me was dust. Not even a rip in my clothes, really. Feel a little sore on my right side, but that’s all.” Her voice reminded Maria of all the times she’d debriefed Natasha when she’d come back to SHIELD after missions. It made her breathe easier.

“Okay… Okay.” She said, nodding even though she knew Natasha couldn’t see her. She took a deep breath. “You know, I did not miss this.” She continued, conversationally.

“Missed what? My voice?” He tone sounded forcedly amused, and Maria gave her a weak chuckle.

“Me waiting to hear if you were alive and unharmed. I thought taking a nine to five and doing research for Fury meant less of this.” Maria said, forcing herself to lie down on the bed. Soon the kids would be up, and she needed to be ready.

“I know.”

Both of them sighed at the same time.

“How bad is it?” She finally asked, knowing that Natasha would not be able to stay on the phone for long.

“Bad. T’Challa is dead. The king.”

“Barnes?” Maria asked, knowing Natasha knew what she was asking without having to say another word.

“Yep, looks like he’s to blame. Or being made to look like he’s to blame, it doesn’t matter.”

Maria was silent, musing things over.

“The prince?”

“Will try to locate as soon as I’m outside.” She said, even though she didn’t sound in a hurry to actually do it. Maria bit her lip; she couldn’t keep her. The job was more important. Her wife was well, she needed to let her go and be a hero.

“Steve?” She asked, grabbing a few more seconds.

“Nothing yet… should hear something soon, though.” She paused. “Probably.”

“He shouldn’t get involved.” She said, something they both knew.

“I know.”

“He’s gonna get involved.” She said, even more unhelpful.

They were both silent.

“I know.”

“I’ll try to call him, but Nat…”

“Yeah…”

Maria heard noises coming from the bedroom.

“Kids are awake.” She said in a low voice.

She couldn’t see her, but she just knew that Natasha was closing her eyes tightly at the moment, fighting back any sort of emotion that wanted to show on her face.

“Tell them I love them, and will be home as soon as possible.”

“I will.”

Silence.

“Masha?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Nat.” Maria said, a small, worried smile on her lips.

“Good.”

Maria chuckled, and she could just picture Natasha’s small smile.

“Be careful, babe. And report soon.”

“Always, commander.”

Xxxx

“He got himself detained.”

“What?”

A hum was her response.

Maria paused. She was mid-way to flying back home, and was never more thankful for the automatic settings of the quinjet.

“Steve Rogers?”

“Yep.”

“Captain America?”

“Uh-huh.”

Maria shook her head.

“That explains why he didn’t answer any of my calls…” She mused out loud.

Natasha just huffed.

“How did he get himself captured?”

“He made things worse.” By the tone of her voice, Maria knew Natasha was finding it very hard to decide if she was amused, pissed off, or if she just couldn’t believe it herself. Probably all of them together.

“He got Barnes?” She finally asked.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Natasha scoffed.

“And what’s the other way?”

“He caused a ruckus all over the city to protect Barnes from both the government and the new king.”

“T’Challa?” Maria asked in disbelief, but before her wife could answer her, something clicked. “The Black Panther.”

Natasha paused.

“Nat?”

“God, you’re super smart. It’s so hot. Have I told you that before?”

Maria laughed, shoulders relaxing a little. She loved when her wife got like this.

God, she missed her.

Holding back a wistful sigh, she answered.

“One or two times. Don’t mind hearing it again though.”

Natasha hummed.

Maria knew that tone, and she felt a tingle down her back.

“Nat.” She said in warning.

“The kids? Fury?” She asked innocently. Maria didn’t buy it for one second.

“I’m still on my way home.” Maria answered.

“So you’re alone?” Her voice was but a whisper. Maria closed her eyes.

“Are you?” She rasped. Seconds later, she heard a door close.

“Hm, I have about 20 minutes before I’m needed outside, so… Commander?” Her voice was sultry and smooth, and Maria could just picture her whispering by her ear. A shudder ran down her spine.

“Yes?” She crocked out, thanking the stars that no one could see her blushing. She’d never live it down.

It’d been far too long since she’d been with her wife, though.

“Missed me?”

God yes.

Xxxx

“Must say that now I’m very much not alone.” Maria said through her laughter as she picked up her phone, dodging Kaelan’s little fingers that were trying to grab her. If the rookies could see their old Commander now, playing catch with a 4 and a 7 year old in her backyard, they’d not have believed their own eyes.

A small laugh sounded on the other side, but it sounded just a little bit forced. Maria tried to suppress a frown as she dodged Nichole’s arms.

“Nat?”

“Steve vanished. With Barnes and Sam.”

Maria suppressed a sigh as she turned around and grabbed Kaelan’s waist with one arm, and started running around with him.

“Got you! Muahaha!” She boomed dramatically, making both kids shriek with laughter.

The chuckle on the other side of the line sounded more genuine this time.

“Nat, I…” She whispered, running away from one kid while the other laughed hysterically under her arm.

“-Can I hear them?”Natasha asked, her voice small. “I need to go to Tony soon, but I just wanna say hello.”

Maria would later say she was distracted by the worry she felt for her wife, but really? She had no idea how she didn’t notice Nichole going for her legs, managing to successfully tackle her down. Thankfully, her years of training allowed her to fall in a way that did not hurt either of her children.

“We got you mamma!” Kaelan yelled, delighted, and Maria couldn’t help the grin that spread on her face as both kids looked down at her, eyes shining with pride and a huge smile plastered on their faces.

“I got her!” Nichole said. One raised brow from Maria made her amend her statement, though. “I suppose you helped distract her… so, uh, well done, Kaelan.” Her smile was genuine enough that Maria just shook her head, grin still in place.

“Babe, did they really tackle you?” Natasha sounded far too amused, and Maria decided not to answer.

“Well done, junior agents! Now, who wants to say hi to momma?” Maria asked, quick to change subject as she put the phone on speaker – not before she heard Natasha’s amused chuckle.

“Momma!” They both shouted, no doubt nearly rupturing Natasha’s eardrums with their joy.

“Hello, little ones.” She said, Maria’s heart warmed at how soft Natasha sounded whenever she talked to their children. For someone who’d been so scared at first, Maria thought she’d been doing quite well. Both of them, in fact – much to her own relief. “What is this I hear about you tackling your mamma?”

Maria closed her eyes as the kids started regaling their other mother with an exaggerated version of what had just happened, a serene expression on her face. She laid down on the grass, just enjoying hearing the voices of the three people she loved most in this world. Trying to keep her mind off the possible repercussions of what Natasha had just told her. She wanted to know more, but she would not deny her wife her chance of talking to their children.

The rest could wait… For now.

Xxxx

“It’s Cap, Nat… It’s Cap, and Clint, and Wanda, and who knows who else by the end?” Maria said as she watched Natasha move around the room, picking up a few items to put in her bag. She knew it was an unnecessary remainder, but she couldn’t just keep silent as she watched her wife freaking out in front of her.

“I thought you of all people were all for the accords.” Natasha said, not stopping.

“I do think someone, or a group of some ones, should share the responsibilities and burdens of the kind of decision making you guys have to face, and I love it that you’re supposedly going to be home more, but Nat… we both saw firsthand how a chain can get corrupted.”

Natasha didn’t answer as she continued to pack, now with completely unnecessary things. Maria suppressed a sigh, getting up to plead with her wife.

“Babe, Laura is going crazy with not knowing exactly what’s going on. She just knows enough that now she’s left alone with two kids and her husband is probably about to fight his friends, including you.”

“I don’t want to fight Clint.”

“You want to fight Steve?” Maria asked.

Natasha scoffed.

“Of course not! But Barnes has to be taken down, Maria. This has to stop. It’ll bring trouble to all of us if it keeps going.”

“He has to be brought in, I agree. But like this?” Maria shook her head.

“What other choice do we have?” Natasha asked, madly shoving the last piece of clothes from her closet to an overflowing bag.

“Anything that doesn’t involve shooting on sight or keeping him locked away for the rest of his life with no chance of redemption like they’re doing with Wanda!” Maria exclaimed, attempting to keep a lid on her feelings.

“Don’t you see? I’m just thinking about our family! I wanna come home, Maria!” Natasha cried out, tears starting to gather on her eyes.

“So am I! So do I! But how do you think you’re gonna feel if one of you dies while you’re all fighting each other?! If Clint is never allowed to come back to Laura and the kids? All because all of you didn’t stop to really talk through about this Barnes thing!” Maria said, trying hard not to raise her voice. She knew Natasha was incredibly stressed right now and none of this was her fault, but the situation hit a little too close to home.

“Why are you defending Barnes?!” Natasha asked violently., voice just short of a shout, and Maria had to take a deep breath to make sure hers wouldn’t actually go that final mile.

Looking dead centre in the love of her life’s eyes, she spoke with raw honesty, hands to her side, posture completely submissive.

“Because Barton took a chance on you. And I thank whatever deity is out there that he did. Even when every single person around him said he shouldn’t have, when everyone, including myself, were doubtful there could ever be another side to you.” With each pause, Maria took a step closer to her wife, whose hands had gone slack at her words. Whose mouth had opened in surprise and shock. Whose eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears.

Maria swallowed dryly before continuing.

“The day Barton made that decision, it changed my life in a way I could never have predicted. You were annoying. Didn’t really to follow protocol. Your flirting with me all the time with the most bizarre lines at the most awkward times. You were always pranking and following me and all I wanted to do was to push you off the Hellicarrier or, at the very least, beat you into a pulp in the training room.” She said, shaking her head at the absurdity of how they’d begun. She had done the later once or twice, actually.

Natasha just looked at her silently. So many years in a relationship, yet Maria had never really opened up about those early days.

“And then one day I saw you two. You and Barton, huddled close after a mission gone wrong. You weren’t the powerful assassin the whole company had grown to fear and hate. You weren’t a spy. You were not the enemy.” She paused. “You were an agent. One of us. Who was hurting because she couldn’t save the people inside a nearby building. It didn’t matter that no one knew they were there until after everything went down… You were still upset. Hurt at the lives lost. That’s when it hit me; I did not know Natasha Romanoff. But I wanted to. And so, I approached you that day. And started to answer your teasing with deadpans. I wanted to see how far you’d take it. And bit by bit, teasing became talking, talking became real flirting, and soon? I’d fallen hard.”

The tears on Natasha’s face had started falling. Maria brought her hand to her cheek, wiping the wet trail away with her thumb.

“I was in love, Nat… And now? Now I have a wife and two amazing kids, and all because Clint went against SHIELD. All because he trusted his gut feeling that there was more to you than met the eye. Than what we thought we knew. Than who we thought you were.” Maria wetted her lips and gave a small cough to cover up her own broken voice, her own tears begging to be let loose.

Taking another little step, she touched her forehead to Natasha’s. “And I’ll never, ever be able to forget that. Nor will I be able to thank him enough. ‘Cause he made the right call, Nat. Against all odds, all orders, all common sense, really… Saving you was the right call. Even if it didn’t seem so at the time.” Maria closed her eyes, the fear of what could have been never more present than right now.

“We decided in the beginning that I’d not take part in this. That one of us had to stay in a relatively safe position for the kids, and since Tony’s lawyers had already taken me out of the Avengers picture officially, I’d be the one to do it. You’re the hero here, Nat. You have been the one in the frontlines for the longest time, and I never minded being your eyes and ears in the base cause I know what you’re capable of. It wasn’t, and it isn’t easy but I’d never ask you to stop. I know your place in the Avengers initiative, and I know mine. I have a good thing going on with the front of working for Stark Industries, the Avengers Facility and the research I do for Fury. It allows me to be home often, to be with Kaelan and Nichole, but, Nat… I’m your wife, first and foremost now.”

“You’re the hero…” Natasha started to mumble, but Maria cut her off. She needed to get all of this out.

“I’m not finished.”

“Sorry.”

“I have it good here, Nat, but I am your wife first, and I keep imagining if it was you there in Barnes’ place. If, somehow, someone took control off of you. I wouldn’t stop, Nat. I’d never ever give up on you. Nor would Clint, for that matter. No matter what it cost me, or how long it took, I’d go against everything and everyone just to have you back. To have you here. With me, and with our children, as the person I know you to be. And I’d never stop believing it to be possible. No matter what anyone else said or did, I’d always believe I’d find a way to bring you back to me, to us. I’m yours, and you are mine, Nat. It’s what we promised.”

Her nod was minute, but Maria still felt it.

They were silent and still for a very long time. Surely more than a few minutes, and then slim but toned arms were wrapping around her waist with such strength that they almost hurt. Natasha’s wet face burrowed deep against the spot between Maria’s collarbone and neck, as her body shook with soundless sobs. Closing her eyes, Maria wrapped her own arms tightly around Nat’s shoulders, one hand caressing her hair as she let her tears finally fall freely.

The two of them stood there, locked into a tight embrace for long minutes, so long that Maria’s feet started to hurt by the time their tears finally started to stop. She didn’t mind it, though; not one bit.

As they slowly pulled slightly away, Maria’s hands now on Natasha’s waist and hers around Maria’s neck, the smaller woman was the first to break the silence.

“I love you.” Her voice was raw, tone low and completely honest.

Maria’s smile was watery.

“I love you too, babe. Very much so.”

“I love our kids too.”

“I love them too. And they most certainly love you.”

“Us.”

“Us.” Maria agreed.

Silence.

“I promised Tony…”

“I know. I know which side you’ll take for now. All I’m saying, Nat, is keep an open mind.“ She stopped for a while, thinking of something to alleviate the mood. “But whatever you do, just… make it back safe, yeah?”

“Is that an order?” Natasha asked, a small smirk tentatively pulling at the corner of her lips. Maria answered it in kind, repeating the words that were now ingrained in her mind and heart.

“It is, Agent Hill.”

“Aye aye, Commander Hill.”

Xxxx

When she opened the door, Maria didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or punch her wife right in the face. She settled for looking her up and down, assessing her injuries.

“I’m safe?” Natasha tried, voice a bit low.

“Clint? Steve? Wanda? Sam? All the others?”

Silence.

“A little less safe.” She mumbled sheepishly. “But mostly unharmed.”

“James?” She asked, having heard from her contacts back at base the state he’d been brought in. Natasha flinched.

“I’ll go see him tomorrow morning.”

Maria nodded.

Silence. Then both of them moved at the same time, Natasha’s nose finding its favourite spot between Maria’s neck and collarbone, hands around her waist as Maria’s own found the shorter woman’s hair and shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.” Natasha said, her voice a broken whisper.

Maria just made a shushing noise.

“It’s okay, babe. You made it back to us. We’ll find a way to make sure Clint and the others do, too. Somehow.”

As Natasha’s shoulders started to shake with silent sobs, Maria just tightened her hold, trying to offer whatever comfort she could give her.

After what felt like forever, Natasha calmed down, and Maria started to sway them on the spot. Trying to pass on some sort of safety feeling, welcoming her wife home.

“The kids are asleep,” She started on a low voice “But I think it’d be okay to wake them up for now… get them in our bed so we can all sleep together tonight.”

“Yeah?” Natasha asked, her green eyes still shining with remnants of tears.

Maria nodded.

“I think we all need that.” She said, simply. “We can deal with everything else tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

Maria just hummed, hugging her once more.

“Okay.”

A few minutes passed by.

“Masha?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Nat. I love you too.”

Xxxx

“They’re gonna come after me.” Natasha said as they settled in bed the night after she ran from Tony at the base. Maria had met her by the quinjet, and Natasha hadn’t hesitated to climb, gripping her wife’s hand tightly the whole flight home. She’d spent all afternoon with their kids, laughing and playing. And if she’d been a little more physically affective? Maria did not felt the need to point it out. “I – “ She started, voice broken. Unshed tears in her eyes and blank expression on her face. She sniffed. “They’re gonna question you. The kids. They’re coming for all of you, I have to g-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Natasha Hill.” Maria cut her, sharply, pulling her tighter against herself. “They won’t came after me and if they did, they wouldn’t find anything. The Romanoff they’re after disappeared over three years ago. You’re safe here. And none of the Avengers would dare turn on our family.”

“I’m not so sure anymore.”

“I am.” Maria said.

“How?”

Natasha sounded so lost, that not for the first time (or hundredth, really), she cursed Steve Rogers and Tony Stark for all the mess that they had started. For the fractured friendships that they caused along with destroying their own.

“I’m still a sort of respectable Commander, you know?” Maria said, trying to alleviate the tension somewhat. The tinniest of smiles pulled at the corner of Natasha’s lips.

“Really? Would’ve thought you were Deputy?”

“Eh… it changes with Nick’s mood and the need of the facility. No idea where the guy’s right now, though. He left me a few tips to follow through until he got back.”

“We could have used him…” Natasha mentioned, eyes down cast. Maria just hummed.

“That mean you’re actual Director now?” she asked after a while.

Maria gave a low chuckle.

“All of the responsibilities, none of the perks. Which would include that title.” She explained, rolling her eyes and making a mental note to send a strong worded message to the bastard they both considered a father figure.

“Shame.”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“Masha… how can you be sure?” Natasha finally asked.

“My word is not enough anymore?” Maria joked, chuckling at Natasha’s raised eyebrow.

Maria reached for her phone on the nightstand, unlocking it and clicking on the last message received. She turned it around to show it to Natasha.

“Don’t worry, boss. Commander. Employee. Never sure what to call you. Just Hill, then.

So, don’t worry. I’m not gonna orphan your kids a second time. Or make you a widow or whatever it’s called when your partner goes to prison or into hiding forever. Tell her to lay low, though. Especially when I come visit, I’m not leaving the kids without their uncle Tony, but I can’t… I can’t see her, Maria. Not yet.

Take care,

P.S.: Gonna have to fire you, though. Still kinda mad. Hope you can live with being only in the A facility and Fury’s… whatever you are to him.”

Maria knew she’d finished reading, but gave her a few minutes to process what it meant. What Tony had given them. She felt more than saw the tension leave Natasha. The exhaustion and intense relief making her body drop back in her arms, nose pressed tightly against her neck.

A few minutes more and she finally spoke.

“I… Could you?”

Nodding, Maria typed an answer.

“Thank you, Tony.

Thanks. See you soon.

M.”

As soon as she hit sent, she placed her phone back to the nightstand, and hugged Natasha back with her two arms.

“You’re not going anywhere, Nat. You made me a promise, Mrs Hill.”

“I got you fired.” She mumbled against her neck.

“Considering all the trouble you got me into through the years we’ve known each other, Nat, getting fired from Stark Industries is not the biggest one. Nor the worst, by a long shot. Besides, I’m sure I’ll still get to see Pepper for lunch or something every other week, so I’m happy.” Maria shrugged, completely honest.

Natasha pushed herself up so she could look right into Maria’s eyes, and she met her searching gaze.

“You sure?”

“I don’t regret anything, Natasha. And I would do all exactly the same if it meant that I’d be here, right now. With you, Kaelan and Nichole.” Maria said, letting all her training and guard go so her wife could see her in her most honest, not even a hint of deception.

“Don’t ever leave me, Masha. Please…” She half whispered, half pleaded. “I couldn’t handle that. Not you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, babe. I’m here for you, Natasha. I’m yours.”

“Forever?” Natasha asked, pressing their foreheads lightly together.

“Forever.” Maria sealed their renewed promises with a kiss.

Xxxx

Maria turned off the phone, an amused expression on her face – which only intensified as she looked at the apprehension on her wife’s. She remained silent, watching as Natasha started to fidget.

She only had to wait 10 seconds – if only their enemies knew how easy it was to break the great Black Widow, the Avengers would have been in big trouble.

“So?”

“So what?” Maria smirked. Natasha narrowed her eyes at her.

“What did she say?” She asked, going for a threatening tone, but Maria had known her for a long time, so she only laughed.

“That she’s not sure if she’s angrier at you or Clint, or Steve, Tony, etc. Nor if she wants to bang your heads together or hug you and Barton close. Doesn’t know if she wants to wrap herself around Clint and never let him go again or if she wants to confine him to the sofa for the next month or so.” She said, tone light and soft as she looked Natasha in the eyes.

Natasha bit her lip, nodding her head slowly, avoiding meeting her gaze.

“So… pretty much like you were when I came back?” She asked, meeting her eyes for one second before looking away again.

Maria hummed as she approached her Natasha, bringing her hands to clap either one of her wife’s.

“Not exactly…”

“Oh?” Natasha asked, finally meeting her eyes.

“The thought of keeping you out of our bed never really crossed my mind.” Maria said, smirking. Natasha responded in kind.

“Is that so, Mrs Hill?” Natasha asked, coyly.

Narrowing her eyes, Maria secured her wife’s hands more firmly and pushed them behind Natasha’s back, stepping forward until her back hit the wall. Chest pressed against chest, Maria felt Natasha’s breath catch, saw her pupils dilate.

Slowly, she brought her mouth to the smaller woman’s right ear.

“It’s Commander Hill to you, agent.” She whispered, voice low. She felt Natasha’s shudder; it did wonders for her ego to see her wife react like that to her, with just a few words. “And yes. It is so, Hill.”

“A-and why is that, Commander?” Natasha asked, voice breathy.

Maria hummed, feeling Natasha’s body tensing with anticipation, her nose trailing the shell of her ear. Before she could say exactly what she’d like to do to her wife if they were actually alone, though, the two reasons why she wouldn’t actually act on what she wanted, made themselves known:

“Mamma!” the voices sounded from their backyard, and she heard Natasha groan.

Chuckling, Maria took a few steps back, laughing harder as Natasha whimpered at the distance.

“To be continued, babe. Time to tend to our children.” She winked, playful grin in place.

Before she turned around to go see what their little ones needed, she saw Natasha’s pouting face turn into that of a happy, relaxed smile. Maria let her own expression relax at that. The situation with their friends right now was not the best. Clint and Natasha were at least past their most awkward phase around each other, but it was still not the best. Fury would probably call Maria soon for a mission or another. Pepper was still in distress, and Maria didn’t really know how to advise her. Steve and Tony’s friendship seemed as if it was done for good. Most of their group were wanted criminals now – including her wife. And yet…

“Mamma! Can we make chocolate-chip cookies?!” Nichole’s voice shook her out of her thoughts.

“Yes, mamma, please!” Kaelan’s voice chirped in as soon as she walked into the kitchen.

Maria smiled, meeting Natasha’s happy eyes.

And yet, she couldn’t exactly complain. Life was not perfect, especially not their situation right now, but it was good. She had everything she could need right here; her wife, who had just followed her to the kitchen, and her two beautiful children, who were now listing everything they thought should go into what, from the list they were babbling, was sounding less and less like a cookie.

Maria shook her head with a smile on her face. Life was not perfect, no. But it was really damn good.

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