#i am fully capable of being insane on my own thank you very much

[firelord-frowny]

not to be a conspiracy theorist* but the orange terror definitely 100% without a doubt orchestrated this wack ass ~assassination attempt~

[yellowocaballero]

So fucking glad to see someone talk about SSS Class revival hunter 😭 I lived it so much and I feel like no one ever mentions it against more popular titles like ORV or even The Lout of the counts family, so I'm so glad to come here and see your amazing takes :>

Thank you for the ask which lets me talk about SSSCRH (the version I read was titled 'Suicide Hunter', which tbh I like more - no beating around the bush).

It's hard to draw an accurate comparison since I'm going off just the webtoon for SSSCRH, while I'm going off both the webtoon and the webnovel for ORV. And I love ORV, ORV is my media blorbo right now, it hydraulic presses my brain, I am writing ORV fanfic - it's, like, funner to enjoy. But SSSRH is just better. In the vast majority of ways it is is better. It's better than the holy trinity by a wide margin. TW talk of suicide obviously.

I can't believe I'm saying this but you need a basic understanding of Buddhism in order to understand SSSCRH. It's not about Gongja's suicides - he doesn't suicide from depression or lack of self-esteem. SSSCRH is about suffering in the Buddhist sense - dukkha. I don't want to make this an essay, so I might reblog this with more information, but extremely shortly:

The Four Noble Truths of Buddhism is the truth of suffering, the truth of the cause of suffering, the truth of the end of suffering, and the truth of the path that leads to the end of suffering. You've heard that Buddhists say 'life is suffering'. To put it one way that doesn't require defining a lot of words: the cause of suffering is experiencing the world as we percieve it instead of how it truly is. Suffering isn't just being miserable and in pain, and life isn't suffering because life sucks and global warming exists and people voted for Trump. Life is suffering because we can experience beautiful and joyful moments in this world, but we do not exist in the moment of that happiness or place our ego/'self' between us and that happiness. Living in that moment, accepting the moment as it is unconditionally, is freedom from suffering. The Buddha tries to free people from suffering through teaching Buddhism.

"What does this have to do with the webnovel and manwha about a guy murdering himself thousands of times" it has everything to do with it. Because SSSCRH is about suffering, and it is about using suffering as a tool in order to experience a world unfiltered by ego and break down the artificial boundaries between human beings. Suffering in SSSCRH is not a bad thing. Gongja has the unique capability to (reincarnate.) experience a person's suffering in unity with them, which dissolves the delusion of separation between people and puts us in touch with the reality of oneness.

The Murim arc was fucking insane because Gongja pulls a Big Bodhisattva Move and walks through the suffering of the world in order to achieve full understanding of the human experience. He takes all of the suffering of the world into himself and is liberated. You can tell it's Buddhist because death was not presented as a bad thing - death was an aspect of a happy ending for the Heavenly Demon lady, because she was finishing her life according to her own joy, and because her teachings were passed on she did not truly die.

But the purpose of embracing suffering is to discover the ability to fully embrace life, and that's where Heavenly Demon's teachings were incomplete - as the ghost dude said, Gongja hasn't even experienced his own full life and the infinite capability for his own happiness. You can only feel the depths of sadness when you've felt the depths of happiness. Sadness deserves its place in the world and it can strengthen you, but so does happiness.

Gongja is attention-seeking, envious, and unbelievably petty. When he drills down into his own desires and why he wants the things he wants, you see that he has a very strong sense of justice and right and wrong - he realizes he doesn't want to be famous, he wants to be acknowledged, but on an even deeper level he is desperate for love and to be loved. Everything he does is to experience love, and as such he learns to love others. His love for the Flamey Asshole was purely parasocial and ego-filled, with no concern for who he was as a human. Throughout the manwha, he grows to care for people as they truly are and pierce through any delusions or misleading outward appearances. He has released all attachment to life and death, and as such does not fear death, and as such has taken a step on the road towards becoming a Boddhisatva who frees others from the cycle of samsara, and as a result has learned sick sword techniques and is sooo good at beating people up.

I think the only other thing I want to mention here because otherwise this is an essay: in almost every time loop/regression story, only the final regression matters. In stories with dungeon monsters and NPCs, only the humans matter. The regressor exists in a space where there are no consequences for their actions, so they act terribly and do whatever because none of it matters. In Groundhog Day Bill Murray acts like an asshole because he can. That's not the case here. Everything Gongja does matters. The NPCs are fake, but Gongja never treats them as anything less than real people who deserve life. Once he understands a person's life he never treats them as unimportant. No loop is thrown away and no person or life is disregarded. His choices matter, the way he treats others matters, and Gongja never treats anybody as if they don't matter except for himself.

That was not short. There is a lot more. The female characters are so good and so rich. From a craft perspective it is excellently paced and has a wonderful sense of set-up/payoff and balances tone and maintains a lot of momentum, which is really hard in a time loop story. You have to do a few very specific things to write OP characters well and SSSCRH does it very well. There's more to say from a craft perspective and it's hard to judge accurately from a webtoon but it's good. I was so strangely struck the entire time about how sincere and genuine it was, how it said what it said with no trace of irony of confusion, and I think that's what stuck with me the most.

TL;DR: SSS Class Revival Hunter is good for a lot of very normal reasons, such as excellent pacing and set-up/pay off and characters, but it's also so sincerely and genuinely Buddhist that it blew my tits clean off.

[sowthetide]

Thank you for replying! This is the List anon from earlier.

1) I am still rotating Quenlyn in my head. Lately, I have been imagining her dropped into one of those panfandom games on Dreamwidth, because Quen learning her 'canonical' fate would be tragic and dramatic. Not too mention the reactions of the canon characters.

I suspect that discovering that the basically entire North would condone her torture and enslavement would make Quen want to take Asha up on her offer of escape. And even if she trusts her Robb, learning that he would be capable of allowing it would be extremely disturbing.

2) Killing Euron would be a fun bonding activity for the Stark-Greyjoy-Harlaws. Just putting that out there.

Alannys and Aeron's scene was so sad already, but then I realized that she doesn't know what happened to her sort-of son. And so it was even worse!

Thanks again!

Hello again! It's always lovely to hear from y'all ❤️ I am always turning Quen around in my mind like a rotisserie chicken. We are kin in that.

#1 It's so good to know I'm not crazy, cause I'm also always putting Quen in Scenarios, including incredibly meta scenarios with her ironborn ancestors/future descendants, or just thinking about what Theon+Quen would make of each other. (I've also very seriously considered where Quen/Theon would fall in terms of the "Would You Fuck Your Clone?" question. No comment.)

Quen learning about her canonical fate would be straight-up diabolical, especially Robb's ambivalence about it. To be fair to Robb, Theon did betray him personally and "murder" his brothers, so he's totally allowed to want Theon dead as hell. That said, Robb does not seem particularly bothered about Theon being tortured during his captivity, as evidenced by the piece of skin that Roose gives Catelyn. While Robb begins the series as sensitive, hot-headed, stressed, grieving, etc., duty is always the death of love. Kingship corrupts, and it ate away at Robb the boy until there was nothing left. Robb the boy fears for and misses his sisters, but King Robb cannot trade Jaime for Sansa. Kingship as a burden, a condemnation, always hits for me ngl.

I also recently responded to some meta about Theon & Robb on my other (generally pretty unserious) blog, specifically about the Wildling Incident and the power dynamic between them. This gets addressed in Sow the Tide, but it's something that Robb himself has to grapple with, something that he has to face/fully acknowledge/do the work on. Quen is Very Much Aware of the difference in power between them, but Robb slowly comes to understand it too, in a way that canonical ACOK Robb never did.

#2 It would, wouldn't it? 👀 I won't lie, Euron is probably one of my favorite characters in asoiaf, just because he's just so fucked. Sinister and bizarre (and honestly pretty funny), and of course deeply, deeply evil. I thought it would be hilarious if he genuinely, completely flopped at the kingsmoot. In Sow the Tide, he isn't even the one to kick off the insane bloodbath! For all that Euron stokes chaos/sows discord on the Iron Islands, it quickly becomes apparent that he doesn't have as tight a leash on the ironborn as he thought. He very much sees the ironborn as a means to an end/beneath him, and he doesn't concern himself with any of their history or petty grievances (which comes back to bite him, specifically the murder of Sawane Botley). Euron's not a god (not yet at least lol. Fingers crossed for TWOW!), and the ironborn have got their own shit going on.

It's kinda sad that Alannys and Aeron don't seem to have much of a relationship at all in canon, as I think they have a lot of potential! I went with the lower estimate for Aeron's age (making him around 30), so he would be born around the same time as Rodrik Greyjoy. In the canon that exists in my head (co-developed with goddcoward), Alannys' mother (Gillayne Farwynd) died/disappeared mysteriously sometime before Alannys married Balon, so Balon's mother, Quellon's unnamed Sunderly wife, was something of a mother figure to her.

I believe it was goddcoward who came up with the name "Ygraine", but we had a great time coming up with ironborn names together (with some invaluable input from Ashen_Onion!). Based on the few canonical female ironborn names we're given (chiefly, Alannys, Gwynesse, Gysella, and Helya), the letter "Y" is commonly used, so I kinda just went from there. So we've got Ygraine, Ysolde, Ynys, etc. (I've also got an 'Yngrid' hidden somewhere in the extended Iron Islands family trees I've been working on). Plus a lot of the other female ironborn names I (partially) made up use a "Y": Marys, Brinfryd, Edythe, Alyce. It mirrors the preponderance of "Q" male names among the ironborn: Quellon, Qhored, Qhorin, Qhorwyn, Qarl, Qarlon, etc.

You can tell I've thought about some of this stuff way too much. Like, I noticed that "Pinchface" Jon Myre had an unusually plain, non-ironborn-ish name (Jon), so I made up the bit about him and Jessamyn Myre (one of my random ironborn lady OCs) both having riverland mothers. I also wonder if thralls give their freeborn (grand)children more traditionally "ironborn" names so they're better able to mesh with/rise in ironborn society (for instance, Qarl the Maid). But I'm already rambling, so I'll stop there lol.

Anyway, thank you for dropping by! I always love asks ❤️

[reidology]

Dying in a bathtub - Hotchreid

Summary: Hotch gets nightmares and hides in the tub, so Spencer makes it comfy for him <3

Word count: 4.4k

Content warning: discussion and description of nightmares, smut, brief description of physical abuse, light angst, quite fluffy, happy ending <3

AO3

__________________________________________

The first time it happened Spencer woke up shivering, the cold of a missing body beside him seeped through the sheets chilled his bones. He braved a lazy glance to his bedside, squinting to see the alarm clock blinking big and aggressive red numbers. 05:25. Aaron must have gone out for a morning run, something Spencer never understood. In fact, his reasoning of ‘why run, when sleep?’ whenever Aaron attempted to get him to join always earned him an affectionate eye roll and kiss on the cheek, so why would he ever give that up? No promise of endless coffee can get Spencer Reid to wake up before 7am, much less for exercise.

Reluctantly the sleepy man made his way to the bathroom, knowing he might as well shower and get ready for work now, there’s no way he could get back to sleep without his human furnace of a boyfriend covering him completely. Only, through his grogginess he failed to notice the boyfriend-shaped body softly snoring in the tub.

So he padded over to the semi-closed shower curtain and blearily reached in to turn the water on for it to heat up while he got ready.

Almost as soon as the water turned on, a high-pitched shriek assaulted the young agent’s eardrums. Spencer did what, in his opinion, any caught-off-guard fully trained FBI agent would do— he squealed in shock and fell back on his ass. A moment later the shower curtain pulled back, revealing a very irritated -and very wet- Aaron Hotchner.

“Babe what the fuck,” the older man whined, wringing out his shirt and turning the freezing water off, “I was sleeping!”

“Oh this is my fault?!”

“Yes! Couldn’t you see me?!”

“I just woke up!”

“Me too!” Aaron pointed to his wet shirt as if to say you have no excuse for this.

Spencer let out a frustrated sigh and pushed himself up from the floor. Somehow he upset his boyfriend, he guesses apologies are on the table. He carefully stepped into the bathtub to face his dripping boyfriend and wrapped his arms around the soaking man’s neck, “I’m sorry,” he pouted quite prettily, “But honey, why were you sleeping in the tub?”

“I didn’t sleep in the tub. I went to sleep in our bed, then you woke me up in the tub.” Aaron grumbled.

Spencer thought Aaron looked positively insane. His eyes focused on the older man’s pupils as his hands checked for a fever.

“Do you have a concussion?” He couldn’t help but fret about the man who is usually so well put together. He was obviously in distress though what kind of distress completely eluded the dry man. Aaron waved Spencer’s worried hands away from his face, “No. Spence, I’m telling you, I didn’t sleep in the bathtub.”

“Then how did you get here?”

Aaron shrugged and swatted Spencer’s nosy hands away that were trying to inspect the grumpy man for any injuries, “Who knows? Let’s get some breakfast.” He calmly stepped out of the tub and headed out, leaving Spencer confused (for once).

“... But it’s 5 am.”

_____

Two nights later, it happened again. But this time Spencer awoke to the sound of sobbing. His heart just about broke in two at the sight of Aaron curled in on himself in the porcelain tub, shaking and covered in sweat.

The Unit Chief used to have terrors most nights. After Foyet, all of life’s problems seemed to unravel in his dreams. The sounds and images were so vivid that upon waking up he believed he had done what he’d dreamed. That he’d hurt his family or that Foyet had come back to finish the job.

During hard cases, Aaron would forgo sleep completely, knowing his mind would only haunt him with terror beyond his conscious capabilities. It left him exhausted and agitated for the rest of the investigation. The team and LEOs got frustrated but none had the guts to confront him, except for one young agent who took special notice of his boss.

So Spencer stepped in, and after weeks of getting closer and learning more about each other than they had in the past five years of working together, Aaron digressed and accepted the help that was offered. The following three months ensued so smoothly, the therapy was helping and Aaron couldn’t believe he was sleeping full nights again. He knew it was all thanks to Spencer, who had taken up a very special place in his heart. Aaron knew that Spencer would always be there when he woke up, like an anchor. Something real to hold on to and keep him in place.

It had been a while since Aaron had such a bad episode, luckily Spencer knew just what to do and jumped right into action. Without missing a beat, the younger man climbed into the tub and sat by Aaron’s head, taking hold of one of his white-knuckled fists and gently coaxing it open by rubbing his thumbs from the palm to the back of the hand. Constant pressure, soothing, real. With one hand he threaded his fingers through the brunette’s damp hair, stroking softly at his scalp, willing his nightmare mind to latch onto the familiar touch.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” He murmured sweetly like a mantra.

Eventually Aaron’s panicked sobs dissolved into pained whimpers, his body lost some of its tension, allowing for Spencer to gently lift his boyfriend’s head into his lap and off the hard floor of the tub. The whimpers died down to light trembles and Spencer shushed him comfortingly, continuing to sooth him with gentle strokes to his head. Slowly Aaron’s eyes opened and Spencer felt the moment panic set in. The taller man’s breathing quickened and tension returned to his body, frozen in fear. God, Spencer should have turned the lights on.

“It’s just me, darling. You’re home, Aaron. This is home. You’re safe.”

Aaron trembled more, his eyes glazed over as if reliving the nightmare, “Shhh you’re safe.”

Spencer placed a feathery kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead that seemed to anchor him immediately. Tentatively, Aaron looked up at his rescuer, relieved to be in his lover's arms and away from the nightmare universe that had felt so real. He burrowed further into Spencer’s lap, wrapped his shaking arms around his boyfriend’s steady hips. He tried to focus on Spencer’s heartbeat in an attempt to regulate his own. Spencer was warm, Spencer was safe. Always safe.

“Foyet?” Spencer asked cautiously, breath fanning over the older’s forehead. Aaron stilled at the name then nodded. The younger man knows that Aaron needs to talk about it immediately, even if it’s terrifying. It allows him to discern dreams from reality, so that the events and sensations of the night terror don’t ingrain themselves into the man’s memories of reality .

“... and Scratch,” Aaron gulped, “They had Jack. I couldn’t... I didn’t know what was real. Couldn’t tell if it was really Jack. He made me hurt him. Oh god, Spence… I hurt him.” Sobs wracked the pained man’s body once again, unable to forget the horror of the dream. Spencer rocked them back and forth.

“Shh… Jack is fine, he’s at Jess’s. You would never hurt him, Aaron.”

Aaron was spent, he couldn’t muster up the energy to talk. He fell asleep once more in his partner’s comforting hold.

_____

The next morning they woke up with aching muscles from being in the bathtub for so long. Spencer couldn’t help but be worried about his boyfriend. There was definitely something going on, and though he respected Aaron’s privacy immensely, he was afraid of the older man getting into a dangerous situation. Was he sleepwalking to the bathroom? What if he tripped and hit his head on the edge of the tub? But most importantly, why were Aaron’s nightmares leading him to the bathtub?

Spencer nuzzled Aaron’s neck in an effort to wake him up a bit more. “Darling, we need to talk about this.” The worry in Spencer’s voice was audible and prompted Aaron to sit up and sigh deeply. He didn’t think this part of his life would ever come back up to the surface, he’d avoided thinking about it for decades and he didn’t know what triggered the habit to resurface. But now it’s affected Spencer, and he knew he couldn’t keep the love of his life in the dark, but some things were so hard to talk about.

Aaron found himself panicking again, flashes of Foyet and his father clouding his mind once more. Images of Sean taking cover in Aaron’s arms while their father pounds on the bathroom door-

“I know. I-” He was cut off with the sweetest kiss.

“You can take your time sweetheart. No rush.”

Even at this stage in their relationship, Aaron wasn’t used to being treated so well. The kindness that naturally radiated off his boyfriend was enough to make his insides melt, the understanding words never ceased to choke him up. But he knew Spencer would be there to put him back together once he gave him all his pieces. He buried his face in the younger’s neck, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, relaxing into his hold. Spencer wrapped his arms around Aaron’s lean form, offering a safe space. Aaron had never been this vulnerable with anyone before his relationship with Spencer.

After a moment of just holding each other, Aaron’s breathing mellowed out and his voice cracked as he explained everything.

“After Sean was born, my dad started drinking. He’d always been somewhat aggressive, scary even. He- he’d get angry and take it out on my mom… and if she wasn’t there... But when he started drinking it got a thousand times worse. I vowed to myself to protect Sean at all costs, I promised him I would never let our dad get to him. So I took the brunt of it when he was sober. But when he was drunk… he would chase us, try to get to Sean specifically. He was just a little kid 5 or 6, I was 15. He would scour the house to find Sean so I took him and locked us in the only room in the house with a lock… the bathroom. I’d carry Sean in my arms and make a run for it. I blocked off the door with a cabinet and we sat in the tub until he passed out.. My dad couldn’t get in but he would pound on the door so loudly, his voice was so angry-”

Aaron inhaled hard, the grip on the back of Spencer’s shirt tightened and his breathing shallowed. Spencer continued rubbing soothing circles on his back, allowing Aaron to take his time.

“The bathtub was the only safe space for Sean and I. We spent whole nights in there, waiting for my dad to pass out. Sometimes we’d tell stories, play games, but other times we cried and I covered his ears with my hands, not wanting him to hear the horrible things our dad was saying. This went on until I went to college, I tried to take Sean with me but my mother wouldn’t allow it. My dad died a year later, when Sean was 9.

“I- because of that, if any of us had nightmares we’d go into the bathroom and sleep in the tub, because no one could get to us in there.”

Aaron swallowed thickly and timidly looked up to the honey-haired man. Had he sounded pathetic?

But Spencer cupped his cheek once again and kissed him lovingly.

“Thank you for telling me. You’re the strongest person I know, Aaron. I'm sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Aaron’s heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through his chest. He swallowed down all his uncertainties and let Spencer in, he was proud of himself. Both of them yawned in succession, still exhausted from last night and uncomfortable from sleeping in the bathtub.

With a cheeky grin the younger man announced, “Let’s go to bed, I’ll get us the day off.” Aaron was so grateful.

While he called in sick, Spencer had an idea, and he knew just who to call.

_____

“Boy Wonder! How wonderful to hear from you on this frabjous day! We miss you and the Bossman dearly. We are definitely… working. Work is happening, and we’re doing it, and it’s getting done. You can trust me on that. Definitely no piñatas in the break room, where would we even find one on such short notice? Emily doesn’t even know where to get balloons! Anyway, what magical service may I bestow upon thee today, my little lord?”

Spencer bit back a chuckle, “Hi Penelope. Listen I need some advice on… interior decorating-”

Immediately, he got cut off by a squeal, “I’m on my way!”

“No! Garcia- after work-”

The line goes flat.

“Dammit. I should’ve just texted JJ.”

_____

Despite her best efforts, the rest of the team did not let Penelope leave the BAU for a ‘design emergency’. Fortunately for Spencer, that gave him some time to plan what he wanted to do while cooking lunch for his sleeping beauty.

After a full meal of soup and grilled cheese, Hotch retreated to the living room hoping to watch some History Channel with Spencer. They love watching the conspiracy shows together and debunking the awful propositions. Though Hotch learned quite surprisingly that Spencer is very open to the idea of aliens on Earth. However, he has a suspicion that that’s mostly wishful thinking on the part of Spencer's inner child. Nevertheless, it’s adorable and Hotch was excited for it, and waiting patiently for Spencer to finish cleaning himself up.

Before he could question what was taking so long, their doorbell rang a sweet lullabye sound (they had to change it from the awful buzzing that it was- it was too overwhelming for Spencer). Not expecting any company, Hotch was puzzled as to who could be at their door.

“Who is it?” He spoke through the intercom.

“Bossman! Sorry to hear about your incurable case of Work Sickness! If you could let me up, I brought you some warm soup!-”

Spencer bounded through the foyer from the bedroom, practically hopping over furniture and knocking down a flower arrangement, “I got it! I got it!” he heaved frantically.

“Babe, what’s Garcia doing in front of our building on a weekday?”

“Nothing Aar don’t worry about it, Penelope and I are just going out for lunch, see you later!”

Spencer grabbed his satchel and was out the door.

“But- Spencer you just had lunch!” The curly haired man was already running down the steps, “Bye!”

It was Hotch’s turn to be left alone and confused.

_____

In Penelope’s car, Spencer explained his idea to Penelope, without going saying too much about Hotch’s nightmares. In true Penelope fashion, the bubbly bits-and-bobs connoisseur knew the perfect place to get what Spencer needed. Penelope dragged Spencer around the independently-owned home goods boutique like a lost puppy for about two hours. She ended up with more bags for herself and Sergio than what Spencer needed.

A few texts and one missed call from Hotch wondering what the hell was taking Spencer so long prompted them to leave. Spencer thanked Penelope in front of their apartment and air kissed her goodbye, promising to show up at girl’s night next week..

Spencer walks into the foyer as quietly as possible and hides the bags behind the living room’s entertainment center.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah! I’m home!”

Aaron walked out of their bedroom with a soft smile. His round glasses were on, meaning he’s been reading… or looking at case files.

“Are you going through the case?” Spencer scolded.

The bespectacled man didn’t waver. “There’s something the victim’s parents said that doesn’t add up, they said that every Thursday Mandy went to soccer practice after school and swim practice in the next town over in the evenings. She takes the bus so if the unsub was stalking her he’d either have to take the same bus and risk getting caught or have a car- which goes against our age profile- so that would mean there’s someone driving him. Spencer, there are TWO unsu-” He was cut off by being pulled into a kiss. He hummed into it and wrapped his arms around Spencer’s slender waist, pulling them closer together. When they pulled apart Spencer whispered “Two unsubs. The team knows, they’re working on it. You-” he tapped his finger on the older’s chin for emphasis, “need to relax today.”

The resulting pretty pout was swiftly kissed away. None of that now.

“But I don’t know how to relax. I’m Aaron Hotchner, stoic as a statue, stern glare extraordinaire, Mr. Emotionless…”

Spencer rolled his eyes and trailed his hands down Aaron’s hard chest, “I know how to make you relax…” The other man grinned “Oh is that right?” Spencer smirked and led his boyfriend to the couch.

_____

That night when Aaron was gone to bed, Spencer quietly retrieved the bags from behind the TV and set his plan in motion.

_____

He’s trembling. And he can’t recognize his own thoughts, he can’t think straight, all he can see is his son- and Haley with terror written all over their faces.

He barely registers the sound of Jack’s wailing because, as if from right behind his ear, he hears a voice that he interprets as his own thought ‘shoot him’.

‘What?’

‘Pull the trigger’

He looks back up to his sobbing, terrified son, and without hesitation- click- BOOM-

Aaron bolted up from the bed, gasping for breath. His eyes darted around the dark. Jack? Where is he- Jack ohmygod-

His vision landed on Spencer’s sleeping form, breathing shallowly and folded into himself like a pretzel, sleeping soundly like an angel. Spencer. Real. Safe. He took a deep breath to regulate his heart. In for 4, hold, out for 6, repeat. This was exhausting.

Groggily, Aaron slipped out from under the covers and headed to the bathroom to get a drink of water and maybe splash his face a little. He thought of getting into the bathtub for the comfort he desperately needed right now, but he’d be embarrassed if Spencer found him in there again. Who does that? But nothing could have prepared Aaron for the sight before him when he opened the door.

Lights. Yellow, green, purple electric lights on strings, illuminating the room in a beautiful calming glow. They were suspended from the curtain rod of the bathtub, taped to the walls. Gorgeously scented candles perched on the sink, some on the ground, a few tea lights lining the edge of the tub. It smelled glorious and comforting and Aaron couldn’t tell what it was. Pine? Sandalwood? Campfire?

The most breath-taking part was the inside of the bathtub. Patterned sheets hung from the walls and draped over to form a delicate roof. Fluffy pillows perfectly laid out to coat every inch of the porcelain interior, and soft blankets piled on top for added comfort. Lights lined the inside of the sheet tent as well, it looked fantastical. Like something out of a book.

Aaron was floored, to say the least. Was this what Spencer had been doing today? He was flooded by a new emotion, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Spencer had done all of this for him? To make him feel safe?

He was still standing just barely in the room, taking everything in and getting emotional when he heard soft footsteps behind him and felt Spencer’s long arms slink around his waist. A chin hooked over his shoulder and a kiss was pressed to his neck.

“Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?”

Aaron nodded, “You did all this… for me?” A tinge of awe decorated his voice.

“Yeah,” his boyfriend whispered back, “So you don’t hurt yourself when you sleep in here.”

Aaron felt stupid for ever thinking his wonderful, thoughtful boyfriend would ever feel embarrassed by him. Of course Spencer took everything he admitted seriously, of course Spencer cared about what he’s been through, Spencer cares… that's what he’s been feeling. Taken care of. Important. For once in his life, he feels like he’s allowed to let himself be loved.

The stunned man seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing how to respond. His mind was overwhelmed with love for his boyfriend. Spencer pulled away and grabbed the older’s hands, Aaron let himself be led to the makeshift fort.

They climbed in together, careful not to knock over any of the burning candles. Spencer settled on one end of the tub and pulled Aaron into him before he could even think of not cuddling with him. He made space with his legs for his boyfriend to settle between, chest pressed to back, arms wrapped around his love. Safe, warm, and comfortable in a sea of cushions like twin yolks in a shell.

Laying here, in his lover's arms, surrounded by low tranquil lights, and the gentle rise and fall of Spencer’s chest, Aaron felt as serene as he’d ever been. Spencer slid warm hands under Aaron’s shirt, bringing one up to rest cozily on his heart. Aaron turned his head and nuzzled further into Spencer’s neck, feeling the familiar tingle of the man’s touch and murmured a low hum of approval.

Spencer’s other hand, that wasn’t on Aaron’s heart, was used to tip the taller man’s chin up to look at him.

“I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind,” he cooed, “sometimes it’s impossible to take yourself out of that world. But in our home, Aaron, I want you to feel safe and protected at all times. I want you to be vulnerable and unashamed. You’re free to be everything you are in here, and I hope that you feel you can be everything you are with me, too.”

Aaron lost himself in his partner’s deep gaze, glorious hazel eyes boring into him. Completely enamored by the words spoken to him, all he could do was nod and lick his lips, trying to regulate his heart rate for a completely different reason now. Spencer had never been so… authoritative before and his sincere but stern tone sent thrilling sparks down his spine. A blush rose up his neck.

Spencer tracked the slow movement of Aaron’s tongue sliding over his bottom lip, and didn’t fight the impulse to drag his thumb over it. “You’re always safe with me.” He barely whispered before angling his head down to catch those lips in a languid kiss. Aaron sighed into it, waiting a little while before pushing himself up to fix their awkward angle. He positioned them so that Spencer was laid down flat on his back, allowing Aaron to lay between his legs once more, chest to chest. They tangled themselves in each other, lips colliding again like a match to a box, igniting a fire in the both of them.

Both were still tired from waking up in the middle of the night, but the desire coursing through their bodies was a more pressing matter. Spencer lifted his hands to frame his lover’s neck and wrapped his legs loosely around his waist, inviting Aaron to grind down onto him, both already half hard from the anticipation. Spencer groaned into Aaron’s mouth. A sound that went right to Aaron’s dick.

They explored each other’s bodies with a youthful novelty, eager to feel more skin. Never once pulling their lips apart. Aaron slipped his hands under Spencer’s shirt and shoved it up under his arms, digging his fingers into those delicious hips. Finally he broke away from the kiss to pepper the younger’s face with sweet ones. Aaron’s heart grew three sizes at Spencer’s soft giggles and let out a low laugh of his own. How ridiculous were they, making out like teenagers in a bathtub fort? Neither much cared to answer that question though, because the impatient genius bucked his hips up to meet his boyfriend’s, who was still in his boxers, let’s get those off.

Spencer eagerly reached for Aaron’s underwear and palmed at his bulge just until he heard that impatient sound from him. He pulled the man’s cock out now fully hard and dripping with precum. A groan escaped the both of them at the sight and sensation. They wasted no time in getting Spencer out of his nerdy physics flannel pajama pants, and grinded their dicks together. Lighting sparked right through the both of them, Aaron balanced himself on one arm near Spencer’s head and took both of their lengths into his right hand.

The rub of their slick cocks together was spectacular as Aaron kept a slow and steady pace, making sure to draw out all the best sounds he knew Spencer could make by nipping at his neck, where he knew the younger man was ticklish. Spencer whined at the excruciating pace, turning into a desperate whimpering mess. Making Spencer wait was so fun.

Spencer’s hands find grip in Aaron’s short hair, keeping him close, feeling the pull of Aaron's big hand on his dick and grinding up to meet him. It’s intoxicating bliss, being taken over the edge by the man he loves.

Their worlds minimized to just the slide of their cocks and the lips on their skin. The whimpering man felt the familiar build up in his abdomen, moaning freely now as he chased his orgasm, guiding Aaron’s hand with his own to feel his touch everywhere.

“Yeah baby,” Aaron encouraged, his own orgasm coming on quickly, “Cum for me baby.”

Spencer sputtered his release over both of their hands and stomachs, momentarily suspended in the intense bliss of his orgasm. He laid there spent, feeling like putty in Aaron’s hands, and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. He took his lover’s cock in hand and pumped him quickly, thumbing the head of his dick on each upstroke. Aaron came with a groan and a shudder, his arms gave out. They laid there catching their breaths for a while, ignoring the drying stickiness between them and tracing slow patterns on each other’s skin. They were so lucky to have each other.

“How are we going to shower now?” Aaron looked up and pouted.

“There’s a perfectly good sink just 5 feet away.” They laughed, Aaron pulled a blanket over them.

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

Taglist: @foxtrot91 @physics-magic @ssa-sarahsunshine @hearteyedhotch

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Drinking Buddies

Masterlist

--- If Jason ends up going home with someone, call me and I’ll come pick you up.

Y/N read the text from her boyfriend with a smirk. He’d sent it 20 minutes ago, but she was just now seeing it.

It was the only message Dick had sent her all night, always trying to give her the independence and space she needed.

Dick was always amused by Y/N and Jason’s little “club.” It even became an ongoing joke within the family. But Dick also knew that there was something sincere underneath it, as well.

Dick realized early in their relationship that there were some things in Y/N’s past he could never fully understand or help her with. Yes, he had his own trauma. But it didn’t involve abuse. His parents had died, but there wasn’t a day before that when Dick felt unloved by them.

Jason and Y/N had parallel childhoods: abusive parents, fighting to survive on the streets of Gotham, robbed of a happy and sheltered adolescence. Unfortunately, they were both victims of the darkness that Gotham held. The same darkness that drove both of them to risk their lives to stop it from continuing.

Outsiders probably thought it was weird for a man to let his girlfriend go out with his younger brother alone. Especially when said brother was as tall and handsome and broody as Jason Todd. But Dick felt more comfortable doing that than when Y/N had girls’ nights. At least with Jason, Dick knew that Y/N would be safe.

But Dick also knew Jason needed a friend just as much as Y/N did.

--- I doubt that will happen. But I promise I’ll call you if it does. 

Y/N typed back.

--- You’re a freakishly good wing woman. Don’t underestimate yourself. 

Dick texted back instantly. 

--- Have fun. Be safe. I love you.

He double texted.

--- I love you, too. 

Y/N answered before slipping her phone back into her small purse.

“He’s so obsessed with you,” Jason commented without needing to ask who had her smiling down at her phone.

But Y/N wasn’t taking the bait that easily. “Good thing I’m obsessed with him, too.”

“He’s probably sitting at home and crying because he misses you so much.”

Y/N punched Jason in the arm. And it felt like punching a wall rather than a human being with skin, muscle, and fat. “Stop being mean. I didn’t come out with you to listen to Dick get ripped on.”

Jason gave her a crooked smirk. “You’re right. I wanted a drinking buddy.”

“Yes,” she agreed. But then she narrowed her eyes. “But you always wanted to talk to me about a woman.”

“I never said that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I have female intuition.” But her amusement and teasing faded. “Is it Artemis?”

Jason’s body tensed and gulped down the rest of his whiskey. 

“That obvious, huh?” He asked slowly, his embarrassment was easily caught.

“No, it’s not, actually. I’ve just been paying attention.”

“I told you I hated her and that she drives me to insanity,” Jason scoffed.

“Yeah, and I knew that was your sexual tension speaking,” Y/N teased with a tilt of her head and a smirk before taking a sip of her drink.

Jason chuckled at that. “You’re not wrong…”

“So,” Y/N leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms with interest. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s an Amazon. And a badass. She’s tall – taller than me, actually. Red hair. Doesn’t take anyone’s shit. Loves to pick a fight. Loves to get her way even more.” Jason sighed. “And…she’s beautiful,” he finished with. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.”

“OK. Now that you’ve basically given me her dating app bio,” Y/N ridiculed. “Get to the good shit.”

Jason glared at her.

But he took in a deep breath. “We’ve been…” he didn’t know how to put it politely.

“Fucking?” Y/N offered.

“Fine! Yes, alright?” He growled. “It was just casual at first. Friends with benefits – or whatever.”

Y/N couldn’t stop her laugh from escaping. 

“Jason, even though you try really hard to pretend to be a heartless hard-ass, you and I both know that you’re actually a hopeless romantic. So why you thought you were capable of having a fuck buddy, without falling in love with them, is beyond me.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration. “I know. I fucking know, OK?”

Y/N finally decided to have some sympathy and gripped his shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine, bud.”

“Am I? I hate this. I feel like such an idiot. I don’t want to mess this up. But I also don’t want to keep pretending like I’m not in love with her.”

It was moments like these where Y/N truly forgot that Jason was also the Red Hood, one of Gotham’s most feared vigilantes. He was also a murderer, if she was being transparent. But right now, he just seemed like a lost young man, terrified of his own feelings.

“Why don’t you get us another round and I’ll put some music on the jukebox? And then we’ll figure out your shit,” she offered.

Jason smiled. “Deal.”

There were at one of the roughest dive bars in Gotham.

Jason was a regular – as was almost everyone else that was there.

He already made his reputation known. 

And even though on the outside he looked like a helpless pretty boy, the bar patrons learned rather quickly not to pick a fight with Jason Todd. Not that most of them wanted to, he was a perfectly polite guy and tipped far too nicely for the shit service he got there.

Y/N made her way to the vintage jukebox and started scrolling through her options.

“What are you picking? Justin Bieber?” A froggish voice said to her right.

Y/N paused to give him a glare. “Is that because I’m a woman?”

This was negging. And Y/N hated this pick up tactic more than any cheesy line.

The man shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you put on something good.”

“Oh, I will,” Y/N snapped before turning her attention back to the songs.

“How about I help you DJ and then you let me buy you a drink?” He muttered far too closely to her ear.

It made a chill go up her spine and she suddenly felt ill.

“No thanks.”

“Come on. One drink,” he grabbed her wrist.

Y/N whipped her attention back to him and tried to tug her wrist away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she growled.

But his grip tightened.

“Get your hands off her,” Jason barked suddenly from behind her.

Jason had at least 5 inches on the guy and was probably twice his weight.

It was enough to make the man immediately drop Y/N’s wrist. “Maybe don’t leave your girl alone…”

“She’s not ‘my girl.’ She’s my brother’s girlfriend,” Jason corrected with a glare.

He wanted to say more, but he could tell by Y/N’s body language that she didn’t want to start a scene, hating all the eyes that were already on them.

The man had given up. 

But not before both of them heard him mutter, “Fuckin’ whore.”

Without missing a beat, Jason punched him in the face.

The hit knocked the guy off his feet and possibly knocked out a few teeth. 

So much for not causing a scene…

“Say another word about her and I won’t use my hands next time,” Jason practically spit down to him. 

Then he slyly opened up his jacket to show that he had a gun on him.

The guy didn’t need to hear anything else. He jumped to his feet and tried not to run out of the place.

A beat passed before Y/N erupted into laughter.

“Oh, Jason! Oh, my knight in shining armor! You saved me!” Y/N put the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically as she mocked him.

“I should’ve let him grope you,” Jason mumbled as he led them back to their seats.

They both knew he didn’t mean it.

“Dick’s been showing me some self defense, you know.” Y/N beamed proudly as she took a sip of her new drink.

The bartender came over and silently offered them a free round of shots, proving that he’d seen the exchange. And this was his way of apologizing for their troubles.

Jason nodded his head in thanks before handing one of them to Y/N.

“Yeah?” He played dumb.

She nodded excitedly.

They clinked their shot glasses together before throwing them back.

“You know Dick would have my ass if I hadn’t intervened, right?” He asked her.

She sighed. “Yeah, I know. He’s overprotective like that.”

“I’d be the same way,” Jason agreed.

“Even if it was with an Amazon, who was bigger and stronger and had lived for hundreds of years?” Y/N teased, reminding him that she wasn’t done talking about his love life.

“Even then,” he smirked.

The night went on as normal. 

Y/N asked Jason a million questions about Artemis. 

And together, they came up with a game plan.

————————————

Dick was working on his computer.

Gray sweatpants on. No shirt. A couple of empty beer bottles on the coffee table where his feet were propped up.

He wanted to lie to himself and believe he was waiting up for Y/N to make sure she got home safe. But he knew Jason would die before he left anything happen to her – especially on his watch.

No, Dick didn’t bother trying to go to sleep because he basically couldn’t when Y/N was gone. 

Even if he was in bed and she was still up working or walking around the apartment, it was like Dick could feel her presence and that was enough. He needed her to sleep, even if she wasn’t right next to him.

Dick smiled when he heard the loud clattering of keys failing to match with the slot of the lock.

Finally the apartment door opened.

“Special delivery for Richard John Grayson!” Y/N screamed in a slur before he even could see her.

“Shh!” Jason hushed quickly. “He’s probably sleeping.”

But when they rounded the corner, Jason relaxed at the sight of Dick being wide awake.

Y/N was piggybacking Jason with a drunk smile.

“Looks like you two had fun,” Dick commented with a laugh.

“So much fun,” Y/N agreed.

But then she was squirming and Jason realized she wanted off. He released his protective grip on the back of her thighs and carefully dropped her to her feet.

Y/N sprinted to her boyfriend and tackled him into a hug on the couch.

Thankfully Dick saw this coming and had quickly moved the laptop off his lap before she crushed it.

“Well hello to you too,” Dick chuckled as she wrapped her body on top of his like a koala bear.

He kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair.

“I’m very tired. And Jason wouldn’t get me Taco Bell,” she whined.

Jason looked offended and held his hands up in surrender. “I did try to get you Taco Bell, but it was closed.”

“He’s lying,” Y/N whispered.

“OK,” Dick managed to suppress his laughter. “How about we get you into bed and maybe chug some water?” Dick asked her softly.

She just nodded into his neck.

“Alright. Here we go,” Dick warned her before he managed to lift both of them off of the couch and carry her to their bedroom.

He helped her out of her clothes and then got her into one of his big t-shirts, not bothering with shorts or pants. He managed to convince her to take out her contacts before he handed her a makeup removal wipe. Then he very nicely asked her to drink some water for him.

“I’m gonna go say bye to Jason and then I’ll be right back,” he whispered as he tucked her into bed.  

Y/N sleepily nodded. “Jason punched a creepy dude for me. So be extra nice to him, K?”

Dick sighed.

Of course Jason did.

When Dick walked out of the bedroom, his younger brother was chugging a glass of water in their kitchen.

“You punched a dude?” Dick asked as he crossed his arms and gave him a suspicious look.

Jason shrugged. “Just another asshole who didn’t know the word no.”

“Thanks. For always looking out for her, I mean.”  

Jason nodded.

“You spending the night?” Dick asked.

They purposely rented a place that had a guest bedroom. It was rather common for someone from his family to crash. A lot of the time it was someone hiding from Bruce out of spite and needed some space from the manor.

“Nah. I just wanted to make sure she got home. I’m walking back to my place.”

Dick nodded, expecting that to be his response.

But Jason seemed to be lingering for some reason.

“You OK?” Dick asked him after a few moments.

“Yeah! Yeah, I just…Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How do you make sure you don’t fuck it up?”

Jason didn’t need to clarify that ‘it’ was Dick’s relationship with Y/N.

Dick scratched the back of his head. This wasn’t a usual subject for him and Jason. They almost never talked about women with each other.

“I guess I just…” he thought about it for a moment. “I’m honest with her. So she never questions where we’re at. She always knows how I feel. And then it’s never scary for her.”

Jason nodded his head, clearly deep in thought as he mulled over Dick’s answer.

“I’ll see you guys later,” he finally said his goodbyes.

“Get home safe, yeah?”

Jason scoffed. “Always do.”

Dick locked the door behind his brother.

When he made his way back to the bedroom, Y/N appeared to be passed out.

But when Dick crawled into the other side, she instantly moved to him and placed a kiss on his bare chest.

“Hi,” she sighed sleepily.

“Hi,” he kissed the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her. “What’s up with Jason?”

She smiled with her eyes closed. “Can’t tell you. It’s club business.”

Dick rolled his eyes and shook his head.

He tickled her sides. 

“Noooo,” Y/N whined as she buried her face into his chest.

Dick only stopped because her reaction was so adorable.

“I’m kidding,” she breathed her surrender. “Your brother…is in love.”

“In love, huh?” Dick said in awe, processing the idea. 

“And what advice did you give him?” He asked.

But when he looked down, he realized Y/N was now actually asleep.

Dick kissed her cheek and mentally reminded himself to run to the store early tomorrow so he could make them a greasy breakfast. He could only assume Y/N was going to need it with the inevitable hangover from a night drinking with Jason Todd.

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

Guess I wasn’t finished with them yet 😏

Let me know what you think. And I’ll see if I want to keep doing these. 

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

[scrawnytreedemon]

Can’t sleep, mind going precisely 56 miles an hour, so I think I’ll finally get around to writing this.

Couples days back, I went ahead and finally psyched myself up to do the Zant bossfight.

Because I’d picked up where I’d left off yesterday, which was just before the boss room, obviously I was taken back to the beginning of the area. This gave the whole ordeal a trek, if a short one, what with the Palace of Twilight’s laughable length, and me more time to think.

I didn’t want to do this.

It sounds stupid, but I really didn’t want to do this. I’d cried the day before trying to psych myself up and failing, and I’d cried then, before the boss door, stalling by sweeping away the crystal-fog as best I could-- A meagre attempt at housekeeping, and a futile one. Of course I couldn’t. This isn’t that sort of game. This isn’t a game for failed attempts at kindness, at least trying to clean this awful, awful place for an awful, awful man going through awful, awful things. I was supposed to be a hero.

Heroes don’t make beds.

They don’t wash dishes, or hang laundry, or hold a rival’s hand,

They kill.

The trek didn’t stop past the door, either.

We still had to walk up the stairs. To the throne.

To him.

And I was there, laugh-crying, wishing I didn’t have to. That I could skip this pathetic ordeal.

I tried to turn around and leave.

Despite it only looking like a larger one of the many, many doors we’ve passed through this awful, nonsensical, poorly-designed excuse for a palace that no one could ever live in, it didn’t budge. There wasn’t any turning back. I had to go forward, because this is an action game, and violence is key.

The game takes the reigns. Link walks up to the throne, sword drawn, despite my deliberate decision to sheathe it. The narrative begins again. Midna sneers, and throws a taunt at him.

Zant sits, and smiles. Smiles like he thinks he still has some form of control, or knows full well he’s lost it.

You know, when I was working through the Palace of Twilight, I’d come to the realisation that... Zant locked himself in the throneroom. From the outside. Logistically, despite the good laugh I had over this guy locking himself in from the fucking outside, where his opponents can grab the key, he could get out easily-- teleportation and all. But even that aside, it still spoke to a level of hasty panic, that he would even keep the key outside, behind a waterfall of yet more shitty fog-crytals in the hopes that would deter them. Deter us.

How long had the guy been here, alone in that room?

We all know what happens next. Despite this being my first playthrough, I’ve probably seen this cutscene a dozen times. Zant has what amounts to an overly-dramatised autistic meltdown expositing himself and his motivations. That he was upset and felt like everything he’d worked for had been taken away from him. That he was angry, angry and fed up of being relegated to a half-existence. Midna retorts, Zant wails some more.

What gets me is that, when Ganondorf visits him, engulfs him in this flaming ball of fucked-magical-fuckery, he just. Stares. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything. Ganondorf speaks as though he’s already decided that, yes, you will do, we will make a pact and rule Everything together; I will live on through you.

Did Zant even agree to this?

I think, subconsciously or not, he accepted it, but it begs the question of whether or not Zant was capable enough to partake in it.

Whatever the answer, he’s clearly not capable enough to partake in this. This fight.

It’s laughable, that I’m expected to find victory in this.

The fight was a fucking slog, 90% of the time. Some of these boss-battles I hadn’t played in nearly two years thanks to the impromptu hiatuses I’m so fond of taking, so I didn’t know what the fuck I was meant to be doing half the time-- And when I did, it lagged to shit everytime this poor bastard fired projectiles, because I was playing on the gamepad, because why on earth would I play this on the goddamn TV? It was a sad, pitiful encounter that I had to laugh my way through and also mumble “what the fuck“ on several occasions because I guess somebody at Nintendo ate cheese before bed and the dev team were so desperate to patch something together for this guy’s sudden crisis that they threw it in-- I’m obviously having a good laugh, but What The Fuck.

I knock the guy down in the last phase of the battle, the only one where he isn’t mimicking something else and dizzies himself spinning like a hyperactive child, and the game takes the reigns again. Midna prepares her hair. I look away-- I’ve seen it before, many times before, and it’s cartoonishly grotesque for a game that relies heavily on somber semi-realism. Midna has her own crisis-- And yeah, yeah bossbabe, I feel it.

It cuts back, and there’s a Heart Container on the guy’s throne.

I.

I killed a guy, and now I’m collecting his lifeforce. I stormed into the bunged-up attempt of a fortress conjured up as a last defense by a man who’s fallen head-first into insanity, tore through any meagre security measure like butter, murder the guy when he’s having an episode, he dies a fucked up death, and then I collect his lifeforce.

Is that fucked up or what?

For all of Zelda’s endless violence, rarely do you actually kill “people.“ It’s the kind of stuff reserved for the end, for Ganondorf, or some other corrupted nigh-demigod on the brink of losing their humanity, or never having possessed it.

We kill Zant.

Zant barely puts up a fight, and we kill him. Zant gets summoned from the netherworld by Ganondorf in Hyrule Warriors; we put him there in the first place.

If we were to view this from a literal, like this shit actually happened and these characters are to be held accountable standpoint, then what we did was justified-- If not wholly, then mostly. Zant got power-hungry, committed what amounts to a bio-terroristic coup on the government, disfigured his rival, a woman notorious for her beauty, then proceeded to attempt the same thing with Hyrule, leading to the indirect death of at least the people who got transfigured into Shadow-Beasts in Kakariko, and attacks you first, then yeah, no biggie?

But I’ll be fucking real with you chief, I don’t find it... I don’t know, persuasive? Effective? Compelling, would be the best word, to think of it that way?

What Zant is, is a narrative tool. One that was set up to be this big, bad interloper who you need to Take Down and Save Everything, as per usual Zelda format. The justification for why we should hate him, if I’m going to be honest, feels contrived, most of the time. He does some bad thing off-screen, Midna gets pissed, Midna and everyone within a 12-mile radius explains why we should be pissed in a way that often feels borderline developer-hand-y-- And that’s. Well that’s how Zelda usually is.

It’s justification to commit violence.

--To be clear, I don’t say this in a political sense. I mean it in the very literal “hit/kill a guy“ sense. And in all honesty, that’s kinda inherent to the ethos of action games. We enjoy catharsis-- We enjoy taking down big things, it’s satisfying! I’ve played a little Hyrule Warriors-- Loved the feel of it. Violence is inherent to even the most benign of action games, and it is what it is.

Where it falls short for me, is that with Zant, I don’t feel like I’m taking down some great foe that I should justifiably hate.

I feel like I’m a clearly more equipped person breaking into a room, and bludgeoning a mentally ill person.

I’m autistic. I may slot in easier to NT society than most, but I am autistic, and it makes me deeply uncomfortable to see something I’ve fucking gone through be used carelessly as flavour for a prelude to violence. I have meltdowns. They’re relatively rare, and mostly in my room, alone, but I’ve also experienced one out in public. It was only sobbing, but there’s a special kind of horror, of humilation in knowing other people, strangers, family, what have you, are seeing it, and all you can think is how much you failed.

I can’t fully articulate why I cried so much during this, quite frankly, menial ordeal. I’m half-embarrassed to even talk about it-- Because then that means caring too much, and I can’t care too much over a poorly-justified character that wasn’t even intended to be sympathised with and that most of the fandom laughs at. And I can’t say I blame them.

I guess at the end of the day it comes down to the ever-present pity; some strange, childish commiseration I’d indulged in ever since I was six and cooing over Bowser and how awful everything was for him, that despite my continuous efforts, I can’t ever seem to explain.

I didn’t like the Zant fight. It felt empty,

And all did was sweep cobwebs and try to turn back.

[thefanficmonster]

One Can Never Escape Destiny

Shan-Yu x Empress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Murder scene (non-graphic)

Genre: Angst, Romance (one-sided)

Summary: After fulfilling his plan of taking over China Shan-Yu and his army have made it to the palace of Empress Y/L/N Y/N. However, one obstacle the warrior still fails to overcome is swaying the Empress herself, getting in her good graces. Unable to kill her, he is left to do all he can to have her spare him as much as a civil word.

Requested by Anon. Hi lovely! Thank you so much for such and amazing and so different request from what I’m used to. This is my first time writing for a Disney character, a villain even, so I hope to have fulfilled your expectations even with it being so late in posting. Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

She refuses to eat or see the light of day. She’s been hidden away in a single room of the palace ever since China fell. She attempted to fight and gave her all when her eyes met his poisonous ones and her sword’s blade collided with his. The fight was a difficult one, he had to admit. She would’ve won had she not had a heart of gold. Putting her right-hand man’s under the sharp dagger in his merciless hand left her no choice. She loved that man, he could see it in her eyes. And he wasn’t going to kill the pathetic excuse for a member of the Empress’ council, but seeing that look of devotion and adoration in her gaze when her eyes met with his drove him in a fit of absolute rage. He couldn’t restrain himself and let the blade slide across the man’s neck only after the Empress had surrendered.

“NOOO!“ She had shrieked in terror and sorrow, all her pain audible in her cry that echoed all throughout the palace, piercing the monstrous warrior’s ears. He couldn’t bare to see her so distraught, over another man on top of all, so her ordered his men to take her to one of the chambers and leave her to collect herself. She still had fight left in her though. She escaped from his men’s grasps and overpowered them both until a third one knocked her out cold with the handle of his dagger. A choice of action that landed him the second dead body to be thrown out of the palace that night.

He specifically instructed the man taking Y/N to her chamber to be gentle and caring with her and to leave the door unlocked, maybe even open a crack. He didn’t want her to feel trapped in her own home. 

He sat by one of the windows all through the late dark hours of the night and even met the sunrise at dawn. He contemplated so many things, scolded himself even. He had become the ruler of China and yet he had never felt so low and defeated. He even let his mind wander to the option of killing the Empress for his own peace of mind but he knew he wouldn’t be able to the second he realized he wasn’t even able to picture himself doing it. The very though sickened him to his stomach and he was disgusted with himself to have ever allowed himself to think such a thought.

The main thing troubling him was the fact that he didn’t know where such admiration came from. He had never admired nor respected a woman before but he felt the need to bow before her instead of the other way around. He wanted to be her loyal servant, tending to her every need at the bat of her eyelashes. He could barely believe himself either way - killing her or adoring her, they were both thoughts bordering into insanity, he couldn’t tell which was worse. Of course he could, he just wanted to lie to himself. He knew he could never lay a hand on her.

Shan-Yu had fallen under the spell of the very Empress he was supposed to end in order to fulfill his evil plans.

He should want her dead while he’s prepared to kill whoever dares even wish her harm. Funny how destiny works. Or perhaps this is karma punishing him for his evil ways by putting one bump in the road right in front of him - one so easy to get rid of in theory, but he could never commit to it.

It has been four full days since that fateful night and he hasn’t heard nor seen her. He’s not willing to disturb her peace and earn himself an injury from the infuriated Empress but the hours of overthinking, contemplating and self-battling are weighing heavy on him. His men are beginning to notice, although they’d never say anything - they may be cruel, dumb fools but they respect their lives enough to not put them at a risk like that. Not even a risk, more like certain death. They all obeyed his orders of bringing the Empress food three times a day every day and they all witnessed the defeat and worry that washed over their leader’s face whenever they brought back the dishes untouched hours after they had delivered them. 

So, after a lot of self-convincing and doubting, Shan-Yu has bitten the bullet - he is walking the halls to the Empress Y/L/N Y/N’s chamber. He makes it to her door sooner than he’d like, his confidence is not fully built. His composure could easily be shaken. His words are scrambled and even if he could form coherent sentences, he knows they die in his throat.

‘Pull yourself together, you pathetic mutt‘ He scolds himself for the hundredth time in the past hour. Easier said than done, though. She’s a woman of incredible strength, power and character. She was respected by every individual in China, not a single soul looked down upon her. They had already hated him, but now that he has allegedly put their dear Empress in misery, he’d be dead along with his army if they weren’t so strongly feared.

Shan-Yu brings himself to knock on the chamber doors, his voice a faint echo through the massive hallway when he calls out, “Empress, may I enter?”

No answer, as he expected. He is half expecting to not even be there, to have escaped. He knows her better than that though.

Cautiously pushing the door open, he’s met with a dark room only lit by the moonlight seeping in through a small rectangular window directly opposite the door. He sees her silhouette in the windowsill. She’s sitting facing away from him, looking out of the window at the rooftops underneath the clear, starry night sky. She doesn’t bother to turn her head to acknowledge his presence, also as expected.

A small detail he notices sends shivers down his spine - there are metal bars on her window. Why?

“I was a rebellious child. I knew my destiny before even understanding what it meant. All I knew was that I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to be Empress. I wanted to be one of those brave souls who were prepared to leave to a front knowing they might not return.“ Her voice rings through the cold, dark space, bouncing off the walls in a haunting manner, enchanting him. “My father knew I would be more than capable of running away so I was frequently spending plenty of time here, locked up. As I am now.“

She is still facing away from him but he still shakes his head as though she could see him. “You are not locked here, Empress Y/N. The door is always open. This palace is still yours.”

“That you are right about.“ Y/N’s head turns finally and his heart drops.

She is pale, eyebags weighing heavy under her tired eyes. Her hair is covering her face but her pale complexion is more than visible even from behind her locks. She looks like she has been crying, not that she’s a woman who cries often. A tear of hers has the same value as a bar of gold.

She continues. “Chu Bao, the man you killed in front of my very eyes, was the only man I’ve ever loved and the only person who saw me as more than my title. I’m not just an Empress! Everyone forgets that!“

He feels hurt by her remark, “Y/N, I know. I know better than anyone. I have overtaken all of China and yet you are my greatest prize...”

She cuts him off, her shaky hands pushing her hair to the side so she can look directly at him, her crystal eyes meeting his menacing yellow ones with such intensity he feels it almost like a physical presence. “I am no prize, you monster! I’m a person who destiny played wrong! I given a role I have never been happy with. But I had to play it to maintain the honor of my family and of China as a whole. It taught me a valuable lesson: No matter the tries, one can never escape destiny. So...” she trails off, her eyes losing their feisty glow as she turns back to the window, “I embraced it and became one with my land, this palace, my title. And I will stay one with them till my death. Now, leave! And don’t bring me food anymore. Don’t check on me. I want it all to end the way it started - in this palace, in this chamber. I want to go out with the last bit of dignity I have. If nothing, I will die without ever bowing to you. I may have surrendered, but consider this me prolonging the fight.” He hears her scoff, a humorless chuckle, “The moment I die will be the moment I win.”

Shan-Yu has never been a man to live to face defeat. He always defeats the defeat, stands up taller than ever whenever he’s been brought down. Now is different, however. His defeat is inevitable. It hasn’t even happened yet, but he knows the battle’s lost. His hands are tied. He would never disobey a wish of Y/N’s nor could he live with her slowly dying. He cannot keep her alive against her will, and he can’t end it all quickly for her either.

She has already won, but she’s not aware.

Empress Y/L/N Y/N has defeated the monstrous, villainous conqueror Shan-Yu twice in her life: once when she had him fall in love with her and again when she chose to put an end to her life, leaving him powerless.

All he can do now is accept his defeat and allow for Y/N to become nothing but a battle scar on his heart.

[pink-flame]

Juke Bodyguard AU Pt.3

Here it is! The third and final part of the Juke Bodyguard AU inspired by your requests from the trope game. I reserve the right to do a standalone in this universe at some point but this wraps things up nicely for now. Enjoy! 

Part 1

Part 2

Bodyguard AU + Love Confessor (Character A confessing their love for Character B to Character C)  

Julie was used to change.

Bad change like when her mom got sick and she had to learn who she was when she couldn’t see it reflected back at her through her mother’s eyes. Bad change like when music felt like a stranger and everything she had ever wanted seemed suddenly pointless.

Good change like when she found her way back to it with a vengeance, Alex and her dad and Reggie and Carlos and Flynn refusing to give up until she started chasing her dream again. Good change like when against all odds those dreams actually started coming true, the record deal, and the hit albums and now her first national tour, a new city every night.

What she wasn’t used to was waiting for a change that didn’t seem to be coming.

She had been so sure after what she now internally referred to as “the flu incident” that things between her and Luke would change. That their vaguely flirty dynamic would transition naturally into more flu incident level expressions of affection and then a love confession, marriage and 2-3 obnoxiously good looking babies. Not right away on those last two or anything but still.

And yet here they were, three months and 24 shows later, and they were right back in vaguely flirty territory. Only she was finding it harder and harder to flirt back now that the realization that flirting was all it might ever be started to sink in.

And maybe that was the way it was supposed to be.

After all, he was her bodyguard. She was technically his boss.

She was a strong, independent woman with a thriving music career. She didn’t need some floppy haired boy to complete her life.

Didn’t stop her from wanting him though.

She didn’t bother to go to Alex for advice since he was firmly on what he had taken to calling “Team Juke”. Reggie wasn’t much better, asking her if Luke was there every time she called and never believing her when she told him she was alone. So she did what she always did when she needed someone to tell her the harsh truth.

She called Flynn.

“Look, girl, I haven’t met him but I’ve seen him on tv hovering behind you so I get it. He’s so your type. But he’s not real. He’s a fantasy you can get invested in because you know nothing will ever come of it.”

“It could,” She grumbled into the phone.

“Are you planning on confessing that you’re madly in love with him any time soon?” Flynn countered pointedly.

“I can’t,” Julie answered quickly. “Not when it’s so obvious he doesn’t feel the same.”

“Then he’ll always be a fantasy. He’s like air.”

Julie sighed.

“Cute air.”

“You wouldn’t have called me if you weren’t tired of feeling like this,” Flynn insisted. “I’m not going to let you get your heartbroken. And right now you’re on tour with Luke. So the key is avoiding those big, beautiful, dangerous eyes.”

And as much as the idea of avoiding Luke, eyes and all, seemed ridiculous when he was literally paid to follow her around, she knew she had to give it a try.

Because Flynn was right.

If she couldn’t have him then she couldn’t let him consume her life.

She was sure she would get a great song out of the situation one day but for now she just needed to pull back a little until she could see him as just a coworker she was friendly with. She could do that. Right? Of course she could. She was Julie Molina.

Only it was easier said than done.

Because Luke did not seem to take the hint.

She came stumbling off the stage after a particularly epic encore, vision blurry from the blinding lights, every muscle weak from hours of exertion, yet feeling incredible. At least she was feeling incredible until she tripped over her own unstable feet and Luke was right there, like he always was, to catch her. His hands latched onto her forearms gently, steadying her even as he grinned directly and dangerously into her eyes.

“You ok there, Boss?”

Julie managed a nod, the pounding of her heart combined with the still echoing roar of the crowd leaving his voice sounding far away and yet annoyingly clear.

“They were loving you out there,” He told her in that specific, Luke way. “You were amazing, Jules. Insane, spectacular, rad!”

This guy and his insistence on using slang from two decades ago. She definitely didn’t find that endearing.

She had to stick to the plan.

Julie ducked her head and pushed back from his grip gently at the same time.

“Thanks.”

She glanced up just long enough to see a confused and slightly hurt look on his face before she pushed past him and headed towards the green room, Alex falling into step next to her.

“Are we going to talk about why you just kicked that helpless puppy over there?” Alex asked.

Julie punched him in the arm.

“Keep your voice down, he’s right behind us! And that helpless puppy is literally the very capable bodyguard tasked with keeping me alive, so.”

“So you admit you kicked him,” Alex responded in a completely unhelpful manner.

“Ugh, shut up,” Julie groaned, glancing back and catching Luke’s eager eyes for a split second before quickly facing forward again. “I have a plan.”

“Flynn has a plan,” Alex corrected. “A stupid plan that she never would have suggested if she had seen for herself how crazy he is about you.”

“Has he said that?” She turned her head towards her best friend sharply.

Alex tilted his head.

“Not in so many words but Julie…”

“Then we stick to the plan.” She interrupted determinedly.

Alex sighed.

“Idiots, I’m surrounded by idiots.”

A couple of weeks later, Julie was starting to think he was right.

She had been doing her best to keep her relationship with Luke strictly business and it was somehow more exhausting than the two shows a week and all the time spent trying to sleep in a tour bus cot. She pretended to be busy when he offered to work on a song. She said she was tired when he tried to get her to join him for a beer with the roadies. She pretended she didn’t see him trying to catch her eye during the thousand little moments during the day when she had grown used to making eye contact with him to laugh at something Alex had said or roll their eyes when her manager tried to talk her into something completely dumb.

It was exhausting.

And the thing was it wasn’t even working.

Because every sad, kicked puppy look (as Alex called it) he gave her only left her more distracted and in more emotional turmoil. Part of her was a little mad at him. How dare he look so hurt that she wasn’t playing their usual game when he clearly didn’t want anything more? She wasn’t just a convenient outlet for his excessive flirting energy. But mostly she was just mad at herself for thinking that this ludicrous plan could ever work.

She had thought he was trouble since the moment she met him.

And she was definitely in trouble now.

It was the night of the last show of the tour and they were back in LA to finish things off. Flynn was too sick to come (ironically she thought she had the flu) but Julie’s family were out there in the VIP section. Even Reggie had come down from San Francisco to catch the show.

Julie was feeling oddly nervous for some reason. She had grown up dreaming of playing the Orpheum. It was the smallest venue she was playing on the whole tour, her manager had tried to talk her out of it, but she had insisted it was the Orpheum or nothing. Reggie and Alex had taken her to so many shows there when she was a teenager, it’s where she had discovered rock. Somehow even after everything she knew it wouldn’t fully feel like she’d achieved her dreams until she played there. It was time. Only she had finally made it there and she felt like she was going to throw up.

She wanted desperately to seek Luke out so he could tell some dumb joke to distract her or give her one of his borderline too intense pep talks. But she wasn’t doing that anymore. In fact she had insisted he go take his break now before the show, promising not to leave her green room just to keep herself from giving in to the urge.

“You doing alright there, Jules? You look kind of green.”

Julie spun on her heels and barreled directly into her big brother’s arms.

“Oof!” He huffed as she knocked the air from his lungs, his arms still coming up to wrap around her despite his shock. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” She told him, her voice muffled as she buried her face against his chest. “It’s just that it’s the Orpheum and you know what that means to me, and the whole family is here to see me play and I’m so nervous and I’m missing Mom and I’m totally in love with my dumb bodyguard.”

Reggie pushed her back by the shoulders until he could see her blotchy face.

He reached up to ruffle her hair affectionately.

“First of all, Flynn and I totally called it,” He said with a smirk. “And Alex swears the two of you have taken ten years off of his life with your stupidity.”

“Alex talks too much,” Julie grumbled. “And Flynn is the one who told me to stay away from his annoyingly pretty eyes to begin with.”

“That’s only because she wants you to be happy. So do I by the way. And this?” He waved his hand to indicate her current state. “I hate to break it to you, Jules, but this isn’t happy.”

Julie sighed as her shoulders sagged and all of the fight went out of her at once.

“I know,” She said defeatedly. “But what am I supposed to do? I can’t force my feelings on the guy especially when I’m his boss. That’s creepy on top of being pathetic.”

“Funny,” Alex broke in from the doorway. “That’s exactly what he just said to me.”

Julie just gaped at him for a few long seconds while Reggie and Alex exchanged amused yet exasperated looks.

“Wait...what did he say exactly?” Julie finally managed to get out.

Alex rolled his eyes.

“Oh you know, ‘What did I do? Why is Julie mad at me? I’m so in love with her do you think she figured it out? Did I come off as a creep? Do you think she’ll have my babies?’”

Julie felt her mouth drop open.

“Dude!” Reggie protested.

“Ok, so the last part was more implied than said directly,” Alex admitted.

“But he said he loves me?” Julie asked hurriedly.

“Yeah,” Alex confirmed. “I’ve been telling you he does for months by the way, but nobody listens to me.”

Julie ignored her best friend’s statement and sprinted for the door.

“Where are you going?” Reggie called after her.

“You go on in ten!” Alex added frantically.

“I’ll make it!” She shouted back without slowing down.

She ran down the hallway, dodging makeup artists and promoters and so many people she’d wanted to impress just a few minutes before. There was only one person she wanted to see at that moment.

Julie kept going until she found the exit that led to the alley outside and burst through it. Luke felt caged in if he was inside for too long, something about living in a garage for a year as a teen. He stuck by her side and did his job perfectly but any chance he got she knew he could be found breathing in the fresh air and feeling like his lungs could fully expand. Sure enough, there he was, leaning against the probably filthy wall humming some song that she knew would be amazing if he ever really gave it life.

He stood straight and took two steps towards her as soon as she emerged from the door, a look of concern immediately taking over his features.

“Julie? What are you doing out here? You’re about to go on…”

She closed the distance between them and stopped just a half step closer than she normally would, her sudden proximity shutting him up for a moment.

She just looked up at him for a few seconds, just to enjoy it after weeks of denying herself. He broke the eye contact first, chuckling awkwardly as he looked down briefly.

“What?”

“Can you do me a favor?” She asked seriously.

He answered instantly.

“Anything, Julie, you know that.”

“Tell me what you just told Alex.”

His face drained of color, almost ghost like in appearance.

“He promised he wouldn’t say anything,” He mumbled.

Julie shrugged.

“He probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t walked in on me telling my brother pretty much the same thing.”

Luke’s eyes widened comically as he took in her words.

“You told your brother that I did something to make you hate me and that I don't know what it is and it’s eating me up inside?” He asked in confusion.

“I told him I love you,” She said bluntly, all the bravery she had inherited from her mom giving her the nerve. “And that I’ve been trying to distance myself from you because I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“That’s...that’s...Jules, that’s crazy!” He exclaimed, bouncing a little to emphasize his words. “I’m head over heels, crazy in love with you. Always have been.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked softly, managing to step even closer to him.

His eyes softened as he reached down to tuck one of her curls behind her ear.

“Because you’re my boss, and you’re totally out of my league. You’re this super talented, total force of nature. I mean you’re Julie Molina and I’m…”

“A big fan?” Julie interrupted, raising one eyebrow teasingly.

Luke froze.

“How did you…”

“I’ve been in your apartment, remember? When you had the flu I snooped a little. Sorry. The fact that you have my first album on vinyl is one thing but to have a cd of my first EP is really impressive. I didn’t know hard copies of that still existed…”

Like groaned.

“Ok, ok. You got me. I didn’t want you to think I was a pathetic fanboy, alright?”

Julie grinned.

“Isn’t that what you are?”

Luke smiled softly down at her, brushing the back of two fingers over her cheek.”

“Only for you, Boss.”

Julie instinctively stretched onto her toes, raising her face towards his, her eyes starting to flutter shut…

BANG

They sprang apart and spun to face Alex who had just emerged breathing heavily into the doorway behind them.

“You know no one is more Team Juke than I am but Julie you are going on in 2 minutes!”

“Oh crap,” Julie said. “I’m coming.”

Alex shot her a skeptical look.

Julie glared at him until he sighed and disappeared back inside.

“Team Juke?” Luke asked.

Julie giggled, already backing towards the door.

“Don’t ask. I’ve got to go but later we should talk about your future with the company.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re firing me?”

Julie grinned.

“Well, I think we both might find your current duties a little too distracting. I think I need a stoic, middle aged man built like a linebacker. But we’ve been looking to hire a new songwriter to help me with the next album if you know anyone who might be interested.”

Luke grinned back.

“I might.”

He bit his lip and stared after her with those big, beautiful, dangerous eyes.

He was such trouble.

Julie ran back to him wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up to a plant a quick kiss on his lips, pulling back before he could fully register what she was doing.

“Hold that thought,” She whispered with a smile before turning and running back through the door and towards the second dream come true of the night.

She was Julie Molina. She was about to play the Orpheum. She was in love with her bodyguard.

She was in trouble and she couldn’t be happier about it.

[bxtchforstyles]

The greatest headache ever

Harry Styles x Meredith Cooper

(part of the hey doctor series)

When Harry starts getting headaches bad enough to where he has to go to the emergency room, Meredith is there to help. This is the story of how they met.

Warning: mentions of hospitals, slight mentions of needles, just medical things.

Word count: 2.1k

gif not mine.

Whenever Meredith worked overtime at the hospital, those always seemed to be the same days that Harry didn’t have to go to the studio, or the days that Harry had something planned for the two of them.

Meredith was the definition of a workaholic, making it very difficult for her to often go home on time after her shift. Harry tried to get her to take more breaks as the years of dating her went on, but she never let up.

He would say, “baby, I’m only looking out for your health.”

To which she would respond with, “actually, I’m looking out for my patients health.”

She was at the hospital doing rounds, or maybe at the office seeing patients. She was always working.

So, maybe it was unbearable for Harry to never get to see his girlfriend, but when he really thinks about it, her working overtime at the hospital was the reason he met her.

FLASHBACK:

Grueling headaches were an often occurrence for Harry, so it never really occurred that he would end up in the emergency room from utter exhaustion.

“Good evening, Mr…” She looks down to find out what Harry’s name is on his chart, “Styles, correct?”

He nods, furrowing his eyebrows and wincing as another sharp pain echoed through his head.

“Okay, well I’m doctor Cooper. It says here that you’ve been having ongoing headaches for a while, so what made you want to come in?”

“Um…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head, “I was at the studio, and I had been standing for a while and I sorta fainted.”

“Hm,” Meredith looked down, expecting any other injuries, “so, I’m guessing you cut your wrist on the way down?” There was a white bandage with blood showing through it wrapped tightly around his wrist.

“Yup.” He laughed as she began to unwrap the bandage, “Not to sound rude or anything, but you look a little young to be a doctor.”

“Unless you are suggesting that I am incapable because of my age, which I don’t think you are, then I take you saying I look young as a compliment.”

“Of course I meant it as a compliment.” Harry shakes his head with a small chuckle, making Meredith smile.

“Ouch.” She winced along with Harry once the bandage was all the way off of his wrist before she set it on the medical tray next to her. “Yeah, you’re definitely going to need stitches.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, “Are you being serious?”

“Do you really think I would joke about something like that? C’mon, I’m not that cruel.”

She was being honest, and Harry liked that about her. She wasn’t trying too hard to fit the entire doctor role that most of the arrogant doctors did.

She patted his shoulder as she stood up from the rolling stood she was sitting in, “I’m going to go grab a suture kit, I’ll be right back to fix you up.”

“I see you’re taking a liking to one of your patients over there.” Meredith jumped as she stood in the supply closet, turning to find Maggie, one of her friends (and colleagues) behind her.

“What?” She asked as she reached for the suture kit she had been looking for.

“Ya know,” Maggie snatched the kit for Mer’s grasp, “nurses are perfectly capable of a couple stitches, that’s their job after all.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing the plastic container with all the tools necessary inside of it back, “I had some free time, he’s a pretty interesting guy, actually.”

“Guy? That’s it?” Meredith sees her friend's jaw drop, “Do you not know who that man is?”

Her eyebrows furrowed in response, “What do you mean? He’s a patient...”

“You’re about to suture the wrist of like the most famous popstar ever, Meredith!”

She whipped her head back around, “What? Who? Wait, what’s his name?’

Another one of the girls who works with the two of them walked up to where they were standing in the hall, appearing to have been eavesdropping. “Does she seriously not know who Harry fucking Styles is?”

The name definitely rang a bell, and Meredith had definitely heard it before, but she just could remember exactly where.

“What is he? A singer?” She looked towards Maggie, making her groan.

“Mer! You literally listen to his music!” Maggie smacked her friend in the back of the head, making her hiss from the sudden contact, “You know that one song that you were obsessed with over the summer, golden?”

Meredith nodded before her jaw dropped, “Oh my gosh! He wrote that song?”

Maggie copied her previous motion, nodding before turning her friend back towards where Harry sat, pushing her forwards. “Go get ‘em tiger!”

When Meredith walked back up to Harry, she stumbled a bit before setting all her supplies on the small, metal table that sat next to his bed. “Sorry that took so long, you are apparently the talk of the town all over the hospital.”

“Ah,” Harry only tucked his lips into his mouth, “really thought I was off the hook when you pretended to not know who I was, ya really had me sold.”

“Um…” the girl trailed off awkwardly, “I didn’t know who you were.”

"Oh, Im sorry, I shouldn't have assumed that you knew who I was.” He spoke, the shock in his voice was still quite apparent though. "I guess after a while of being recognized everywhere I go, I learned to act as if everyone knows who I am, and have the worst intentions. It's the best way for me to assure that my integrity is saved.”

Meredith nods, "I know I'm not famous or anything, but I somehow understand that.”

Harry's wrist was still obviously hurting, she could tell by the way he flinched every time she came close to touching.

"Okay, you may feel a small pinch when I insert the numbing agent, but after that, the stitches should be smooth sailing.” Meredith grabs his wrist, just above his injury, she had the syringe filled with lidocaine in her other hand, "ready?”

Harry nodded before she quickly inserted the syringe, beginning to numb the area. For a moment, it looked as if all of the color had completely drained from his face, his eyes falling closed.

"You doing alright?” Meredith light-heartedly asked, trying to ease the tension as she finished numbing Harry's wrist.

He looked quite dazed, as if he was in a trance, "I think I'm alright.” He sighed, leaning back in the chair, still having that void look in his eye.

Meredith stood up again, "Why don't I go get you a cool washcloth to put on your forehead while we wait for the numbing to fully kick in, you look a bit pale."

Harry smiled, "That would be great, thank you.”

When Meredith returned from the sink outside the procedure room, Harry was still slumped back in the large chair, his forehead glistening with sweat.

"Here ya go.” She smiled, placing the washcloth soaked with cold water on his forehead. He was surprised by the cool temperature at first, but he sighed in relief moments later.

"Okay, so I'm going to get started on the stitches now, if you're all settled.”

"Yeah, I'm okay, go ahead.” He held his injured wrist out to her.

It only took around thirty minutes for Meredith to finish the stitches, and once she was done she was already suggesting other treatments for Harry's headaches in question.

"I honestly think that you are getting these headaches from just pure exhaustion, the symptoms you are describing sound much like the type of migraines I had in med school, and with such a high stress level job, it would make sense why you wouldn't be getting enough sleep, correct?”

Harry bows his head, "It is true that I could probably use a little more sleep.”

Meredith begins to jot something down on the chart, "and some more water, since you also seem to be showing signs of moderate dehydration.”

"Whatever you say, doc.”

It was beginning to get harder and harder for Meredith to keep her level of professionalism, because all she could think to herself was is this super hot, famous, heartthrob flirting with me right now?

It was safe to say that she was beginning to understand why so many girls, including her own colleagues, found this man so enticing.

"Okay!" She quickly broke herself out of her daydream, "I think that's all I can really tell you, sleep more and drink some more water. But, if you start doing those things and you are still getting headaches, please don't hesitate to come back.”

"And as for the stitches?” He questioned, making her furrow her eyebrows.

¨What do you mean?” She countered immediately feeling stupid when he responded.

"I mean, won't I have to come back to get them removed?"

"Oh! Yes, I would say fourteen days." Meredith was mentally face palming at this point as her embarrassment took over.

She wasn’t even a huge fan of his, hell, she didn’t even know who he was a hour ago, so the reason she was stuttering like a blubbering idiot was beyond her.

“Can I just come back here?”

“Yup, I’ll be here.” She says with a bigger smile than she intended as she handed Harry the medical forms for him to fill out.

“Thank you so much.” He said gratefully as she said her goodbyes before walking out of the room and into the hall, where Maggie, and many other nurses stood, seemingly waiting.

An array of questions began to be shouted from many different people, some including:

‘How was he?’

‘Did you get his number?’

‘Is he coming back?’

Meredith was appalled by the amount of shouting going on, when everyone was well aware that the man they were desperate to know about, was only behind the very thin, wooden door.

“Are you guys fucking insane? Patient confidentiality!” She defended, adjusting her white coat before beginning to make her way back towards the nurses station at the end of the hall.

******

Meredith wasn’t expecting to ever see Harry again after he came in to get his stitches removed, which was a long, drawn out process because of Harry’s attempt to stall the doctor.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him again either, she would have been perfectly happy to. He was charming, and didn’t seem too arrogant, which was something she completely adored about him.

But it wasn’t until about three weeks after he had gotten his stitches removed that she felt someone approaching her on the cereal island that she stood in Whole Foods.

“Meredith?” She turned around, being met with a surprised look at Harry. “Sorry, can I call you that?”

She laughed at that, “I mean I wasn’t expecting you to call me doctor when I’m not even your doctor anymore. Can I call you Harry?” She countered his question.

He let out a sigh of relief, remembering how down to earth Meredith really was for being someone with such a high profession. “Well, I’m not your patient anymore, now am I?”

She looked back at the shelves, picking up her choses box of cereal, throwing it into the basket that was hanging around her wrist.

“I guess you do know who I am, don’t you?”

“I do now.” She responded, not really knowing what else to say.

Harry on the other hand, was debating whether or not it would be inappropriate to attempt to make a move on his doctor. Was she even technically his doctor anymore? He didn’t know.

He was always very straight forwards through, which was something he prided himself in. “Would it be weird if I were to ask you out on a date?”

Meredith liked the game that they were continuing to play, the one where he would ask her a question, and she would counter back with almost the exact same one. “Would it be weird if I were to say yes?”

“I guess that answers both of our questions.”

It was safe to say both of them left the grocery store blushing and smiling like idiots.

[talkfantasytome]

Characters can be kind, but not good. And they can be good, but not kind.

There is a difference between being kind and being good. Being kind is getting someone a Winter Solstice gift that is thoughtful and will provide value to their life. Being kind is engaging in conversation with others. Being good is standing up for what's right, sharing your story even if it is hard to tell and may be hard for some to swallow. Being good is choosing life and love over power.

I've been thinking a lot about this recently, and I've thought about Nesta. She is good. You cannot make me believe otherwise. She has been willing to sacrifice herself on multiple occasions for those she loves, for the entire world. Even when she fights it, or hesitates, she has often come out doing the right thing, or, at the very least, what she thinks is right. Even in the thick of her depression, her PTSD, her biggest motivation for staying away from the Inner Circle (or at least Feyre, Elain, and Cassian) was because she honestly believed them better off without her. That if she pushed them away hard enough, they'd listen and learn. Yes, there were times her motivations or thoughts were not always wholly good, but she did believe that in staying away, she was doing what was right. And, in the end, how many times did she give up power? She locked away the mask. She gave the harp to Rhys to hide. She gave back Ataraxia because she had "no interest in more death". And she sacrificed her power for her sister and nephew's lives. Regardless of the general disappointment at losing a character with such an insane power (yes, I feel it too), if we look at the motivations of that act, it is another display that she truly is good.

That being said, Nesta is not kind. Don't get me wrong, she can be. And, especially in Silver Flames, we see her be kind. But you cannot describe her as a kind person, at least not yet. She is capable of kindness, but she has an anger in her, a fire, and she doesn't see the need to be kind to those she doesn't care about. Not because she is a bad person, and definitely not because she is evil. But because she is guarded. And she can even be a downright bitch at times. But still, she told her story to the High Lords. She helped the healers during the war. She threw her body over Cassian's when Hybern came.

Elain is kind. She is engaging and friendly. She is thoughtful. She will treat a person with respect, and smile softly at them. She will say please and thank you. She will not throw insults your way or try to make you feel small. She is easy to be around, is able to make friends quickly, because she is kind.

But, is Elain good? I asked myself this question earlier today during an acotar-related internal monologue that reminded me that there is a theory out there that Elain will actually become evil or, at least, has some more nefarious goals in mind. Please note: I am not trying to promote this theory, or express my own support for it. People aren't just good or evil, they can be neutral.

However, after I asked myself that question, I realized that I can't shake the feeling that the answer might be no. We have very few moments from the series that point me in the direction to believe that Elain is good. Soft, kind, gentle - yes. But good? Like Nesta, she didn't step up when they were younger, but unlike Nesta, she wasn't filled with an anger she let get the better of her.* She convinced Nesta to allow Feyre to use their house to try and meet with the queens, to save her wedding, keep her safe, so they can pay back a debt to Feyre. I won't fault Elain for struggling to terms with the change - we all must heal in our own time, in our own ways. But once she was better, she was with them during the war and I honestly don't remember her doing much other than stabbing Hybern. Which was kinda cool, and probably the best thing she'd ever done, but not enough to signify she is truly good. She doesn't treat Lucien or Azriel particularly well, and I believe that she only offered to help find the Dread Trove because the day before Nesta had called her out for not doing anything and she wanted to prove Nesta wrong. Not because this was something that needed doing, and it would be the right thing to do.

*Not that I'm fully excusing Nesta for this, per se. I'm generally of the belief, though, that you either forgive both sisters for it, or are mad at both of them for it - otherwise it's a double standard. Especially when Elain is forgiven and Nesta isn't, but that's a conversation for another time.

It could just be because we haven't seen as much of Elain. Because she hasn't had the opportunities to be good. And yet, that wouldn't change the fact that, often, the motivations behind her actions seem off, are not good. They often seem self-centered, the ones that we do see.

And perhaps she is good. We are very blind to her, as we have never seen anything from her perspective. Perhaps the words she says don't align with what she's thinking or feeling. But, for now, that question remains in my mind.

Is Elain good?

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

This is not meant to be an insult to Elain, or an attack on her. I know many people love the character, and I am not trying to attack that opinion either. We are free to have our own opinions. I promise to respect yours, please respect mine. This is just a thought I wanted to share.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 140

And here we have the last chapter of the Food Festival!  This is one part I was pretty excited to write - The Closing Costume Party.  I wouldn’t have been able to get this one squared away without @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog... Both of you caught a few things I didn’t that kept it from making sense from a reader perspective. So thank you both, very much.

I growled softly to myself as I twisted my arms behind my back to pull on my costume. Normally, I was more than flexible enough, but the amount of leverage I needed right now just wasn’t happening unless I was willing to seriously dislocate something. Dropping my hands, I frowned as I jiggled my arms a little to work feeling back into my elbows.

“You really should have fitted this sooner than now,” Conor laughed against the back of my head as he pulled the laces tight on the blood-red corset.  Getting one made while laying low and avoiding Hannah had been a nightmare, but it was going to be worth it. I just knew it.

“You just wanted to see me try this entire costume on sooner,” I joked as I felt everything fit snugly - but not too tightly - into place.

Maverick flicked a lock of my hair over my shoulder and positioned it just-so. “It’s not his fault that you couldn’t fit this over your scrubs and have it work for tonight.”

“Who wants to see a corset over scrubs?” I scrunched my nose at the thought while smoothing my sleeves and adjusting my collar. “So far so good?” I asked, slightly louder.

As a credit to their maturity regarding the matter, both men looked me over earnestly before glancing at each other. Conor finally broke the silence. “Aren’t the slits in the skirt a bit… high?”  Maverick whispered in his ear, and an expression of utter comprehension glowed on his face. “Oh! That’s… Love, that’s clever.”

I grinned hard enough to cramp my jaw. “Thank you.”  Despite how daring the outfit looked, there was exactly zero chance of any wardrobe malfunctions more serious than a hole in my stockings  - a near-indestructible nude bodysuit under everything made sure of that.

“Your turn, now,” Maverick insisted, eliciting a groan from Conor, who he had turned toward while brandishing eyeliner.

“Isn’t it bad enough I let the two of you do this?” He gestured at his hair, which was styled within an inch of his life and would sustain an EF4 tornado with minimal loss of glitter.

“Nope,” I popped, still smiling as I sat down to put on my boots.  Parvati and Hannah had envisioned tonight to be a sort of return-to-our-roots in a very feral, primitive way, complete with costumes. “We’ve been imagining since before we could cook,” Hannah had pointed out.  Between that and the multiple hints that I wasn’t capable of costuming myself, I had gone a bit more over the top than I had originally planned. Hence the corset, the boots, Conor’s hair… although the leather pants the guys were wearing had been decidedly Maverick’s idea and I resisted the need to fall at his feet in gratitude.

Once we were finally costumed, we managed to arrive just-fashionably late to the last hurrah of the Festival. I don’t know who gaped harder - us at the party, or the people who managed to recognize me when they saw me leading the men in. Parvati’s incredible, winding mural was noticeably weathered and patchy, giving the overall atmosphere a post-apocalyptic feel.  The only noticeable lighting came from the braziers, and deep, almost subsonic music thumped in my chest, driving my adrenaline just high enough to overwhelm my anxiety.

My nose led us over to the first stall of the night, the smell of charring meat fitting the tone. Per a previous discussion around our costumes, I did not reach for anything but instead Conor took my portion and fed it to me - his idea, this time, though Maverick had readily agreed. It was just enough to set off a few murmurs before I heard a familiar laugh cut through the air.

“Councillor Reid!” Jokul’s voice crowed, turning our heads his direction. Warmly, he clasped my hands when offered, trembling with the laughter he was trying to suppress. “This is an unexpected but pleasant surprise.”

I took a moment to take in his fur trousers and tunic, with rough metal covering vital areas. “The dirt is a nice touch,” I offered, squeezing his hands in greeting. “And Ivan! Well done, sir!”

Ivan rubbed the freshly-buzzed back of his head and grinned. “He actually already had the furs, I just made the armored parts.”

“I meant all of it,” I admonished softly, waving at his work throughout the event.

“Antique, yeah?” Conor asked, gesturing to the furs both of them were wearing.

To his credit, Jokul scoffed. “Absolutely not. Quality synthetic.”

“Don’t let Hannah find out.”

A silver brow arched high enough to impress even Tyche. “Who do you think I commissioned?”

“Clever boy.” I winked at Ivan, eliciting a grin.

In response, Ivan did a runway-twirl, his fur kilt flaring just slightly. “What do you think, Councillor? Can I pull it off?”

With the cheekiest grin my soul could ever manifest, I stared him down. “I think I am the wrong person to ask that.”  Even in the dim light, I could see Jokul’s face turn bright red.

“I smell goat,” Maverick interrupted, entirely off topic and completely unabashed.

Ivan’s nose twitched. “Oh, you’re right!” Sniff, sniff. “And it’s on a spit! Let’s find it before it’s gone!”

With that, he snagged Jokul’s wrist and dragged him less like he was an easily two-hundred pound man and more like he was a kite.  When I snickered, my former enemy leaned over and murmured “I like the chains, very nice touch.”

I shook the wrist that connected to Conor’s belt and whispered conspiratorially. “Your idea, really.  You were so convinced I was leading the entire Ark like this…”

He had the decency to snort. “Seeing it in reality, I was a complete idiot. But it’s quite poetic, and I like it.”

“Poetic?” I asked as I tried to keep pace in the six-inch heels I had elected to wear.

“Are they chaining you down, or are you leading them by their gonads? Or, perhaps, are they saving you from yourself?” He gave a very pointed look at the delicate chains going from the shackles on my wrists to the links attached just above Maverick’s and Conor’s hips.

“Saving me, definitely.” My confession was unashamed and completely sober, the result of the primal music and smells surrounding me.

“Gods agree, someone needs to.”

I didn’t have time to argue before we arrived at the source of the enticing smell - a Jamaican barbecue vendor, who had oxtails, saltfish, and…

“Grilled goat!” Ivan crowed triumphantly. As he started handing out portions from the dancing, grinning vendor, he raised an eyebrow when he noticed that the portion he tried to hand to me was intercepted by Maverick first, and then fed to me rather than feeding myself.

“Not my idea,” I managed around an insanely delicious bite. “Swear.”

“Kink tomato,” he insisted, holding up his hands.

Conor almost choked laughing. “Not our kink either, mate. Just set dressing for the Queen over here.” Taking another bite, he winked at me.

“Ah, Conor’s idea then,” Jokul nodded sagely before erupting in the closest thing to a girlish squeal I could imagine coming from him. “Miss Harper, we’ve been looking for you!”

Shit, I thought to myself. I hadn’t thought of what Charly would say when I discussed this idea with Conor and Maverick, and I was just realizing it was a monumental oversight.  Plastering a smile on my face, I turned in the direction Jokul had shouted - 

Only to be confronted with what looked like a fox with antlers, a rakish Anansi, the Queen of the Dead, a blind healer, and… a walking shrine? I wasn’t sure what exactly Arthur was dressed as, but I could clearly identify a shabby tweed suit, his sword, a tome that I hoped was faux-moldy, breastplate, shin guards, along with various tchotchkes that looked like they came from high-schoolers and were a bit too beat up to be faked.

“Arthur, what are you?” I asked. Where anyone else would find it rude, I knew my bluntness would be either appreciated or ignored entirely.

“The Ghost of Classes Past.” He swept into a near-Shakespearen bow, gesturing at the bits and bobs that adorned him. “Humans protect, and we mourn those we could not to ensure they live on in memory.” The thump of the music did not change, but his costume gave it a sepulchral tone, like a dying heartbeat.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, the antlered fox bounced familiarly before looking at the Queen of the Dead. “You did a fantastic job on their costumes! They look amazing!” Her antlers were, of course, somehow illuminated from below, but damn me if I could figure out how.

Despite the fact that I knew damned well that Tyche wanted to erupt into laughter at the suggestion, she managed to, quite impressively, tamp it down to a savage smile of silver fangs and blood-red lips. Flapping a hand at myself, Conor, and Maverick, she gave her bell-like fake-laugh, fully in character. “Oh, I had nothing to do with this. Darling Sophia and her merry toys conceived it all on their own.  This is the first time I’ve even seen it, darling.” She turned to me, tipping her chin down in respect. “Well done, dearest sister.” Tyche was on peak display, with kohl lining her glowing grey eyes, a black bodysuit covering her from  collar to feet, fitted vest and cardigan vest, all partnered with a skirt that could be ten inches thick or ten miles of ribbon - who knew with all the darting and layers? Not me, but I was surely impressed with what looked like ten miles of black feathers flowing from her waist to her hips.

“Why, thank you, Your Majesty.” I swept my leg back in a daring curtsy, forcing Conor and Maverick to smother their laughter at Jokul and Ivan’s faces.

“Ma’am! Ma’am ma’am ma’am!” Charly demanded as she pulled me upright. “You blushed at the concept of kink night, and here I find you leading your men around by their hips!”

I tossed my hair and winked at Jokul. “They aren’t being led, they are saving me from myself.” To Charly’s credit, I did look one deep breath from embarrassment - a black dress with red trim, sliced from floor to ribs and collar to navel, over what appeared to be just fishnet stockings and cavalier boots. The only thing, visibly, retaining any sort of deceny was the corset sealing me in the dress. To go with it, I sported chunky, silver cuffs chained to both Maverick and Conor. Ducking in, I whispered, “I probably will have to be cut out of this bodysuit, no worries on me flashing anyone.”

“Ooooo… well played, madam, well played,” she cheered, twirling me around, forcing both men to pivot with me, laughing, before  giving me a very concerned look. “How fucking tall are those?” This was clearly directed at my heels, which she was staring at like a shark presented with a steak.

“Six,” I admitted. “But I did pointe ballet for a little while, so… This isn’t that bad.”

Maverick ducked into the center of the circle we formed. “They’re a full size too big to allow for swelling and she has the toe boxes lined with impact foam.”

“How the hell else am I supposed to wear these things?” I asked with a glare that had him standing ramrod straight and barely restraining a laugh.

Tyche, to her credit, patted my shoulder. “While sitting.  Or, if you have to stand, with a platform in the toe.”

“No shit,” I hissed, setting the mummified healer doubling over in laughter. “But I’ve done enough damage to my feet, thank you, so… there may be foot braces involved.” One of which was currently digging in just in front of my heel, which I made a mental note to pass on to the development team.

A thick, French accent set me shaking my head when it came from the very-not-French looking mummy. “Well played, Sophia.  The sling and calf brace design I saw recently get approved by medical?”

I groaned as I realized that of course this was Antoine. Life and Death, forever partnered. “Yesssss,” I hissed. “Grey created the design.” I unzipped one boot down far enough to roll it below my knee, exposing braces above and below the kneecap before running further down. “The weight is distributed throughout the leg, before terminating across the front and back of the arch of the foot, to even out the pressure.”

I could almost see numbers whirling beneath the six-foot-plus candy-pink bowler hat. “That… sounds like it might actually be comfortable,” Coffey intoned. I couldn’t help but grin at the tilt of his hat and the feather arching behind him.

“More comfy than actual heels, yes,” I admitted before deflecting attention as far from me as possible. Which, considering how much weight was normally put on the ball of the foot in heels like this, wasn’t a lie…. “But we aren’t here for this! We’re here for food!”

Cheers erupted, and we set off dragging each other to what bits we had discovered.  The theme of the night was firmly set around protein, grilled if possible, with wicks of smoke dancing through the flickering light along with the thump of the music.  Some were spicy, others unexpectedly sweet. As I laughed, and ate, and sweated, and danced, I could freely admit that there was exactly zero percent chance that I would have imagined this in my wildest dreams. And even better? I could enjoy every second, every smell, every beat of the music. I made a point to wink at each camera I could spot, to the point that, first Tyche, and then everyone else felt the need to comically push down my thumbs-up and cover my face.

Clearly, Parvati and Hannah, who I hadn’t seen all night, were monitoring what they would later discover to be a flying pass on their final exam. 

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[the-delta-42]

Disarmed

Disarmed

Gabriel glared at the screen in front of him. The girl, Marinette, Ladybug, had been a major thorn in his side for too long. He’d tried going to her home and taking all the miraculous she had in her possession but had found he couldn’t remember where she lived.

Nathalie had suggested targeting the school, of course, it’d have to at a time no one was there. Gabriel smirk insanely as he started drawing up his plan.

Nathalie had started to grow concerned at the lengths Gabriel had started to go to bring Emilie back. She hoped he wouldn’t go too far in his campaign.

D

Marinette glared at the little screen on her yoyo, Adrien was dozing behind her as Alec Cataldi’s smirking face looked up at her. Ever since Marinette’s arm had been taken off, the ‘reporter’ had been openly questioning if she was capable for her job. It didn’t help that he had the backing of an alt right politician, who’d started calling for anyone who was neuro-divergent to be sectioned for ‘being a danger to society’, and Gabriel Agreste. Marinette supposed that Gabriel had a reason to question her competence, since she was in his son’s class, and she’d lost him his ‘muse’.

Marinette looked behind her, at Adrien, quietly wondering if he agreed with his father. Adrien opened his eyes and smiled at her, before stretching his arms out.

“What time is it?” Asked Adrien, looking around to make sure no one had seen them.

“Just after 11.” Replied Marinette, frowning as Adrien looked around, “Adrien, if anyone spotted us, I would’ve woken you.”

Adrien yawned, before flopping back down. Just as he did, an explosion rocked Paris. Both heroes looked at the explosion.

“Did… did Hawkmoth just blow up our school?” Asked Marinette, blankly.

Marinette shook her head and shared a look with Adrien, before the two called on their transformations. Ladybug and Chat Noir skidded to a halt in front of the burning building.

“Okay, we’re at the scene, but there’s no Akuma.” Muttered Ladybug, her bionic arm twitching.

A deafening roar tore through the street, as a dinosaur glared down at them.

“Mr Césaire got Akumatised again?” Asked Chat, cocking his head.

Ladybug was about to answer, as a blue blurr rammed into her side. Mayura threw Ladybug through the window of her parents bakery. Chat moved to grab the villainess, only to be grabbed by the collar and thrown at the dinosaur. Hawkmoth sneered at the boy, just as Mayura sailed past him and into a lamp post.

Ladybug charged at Mayura, ramming her fist into the elder woman’s stomach. Ladybug’s continuous blows triggered a coughing fit, the woman doubled over, unable to continue fighting. Ladybug turned her gaze on Hawkmoth, before launching herself at him, with Chat following. Ladybug’s fist connected with Hawkmoth’s chin, while Chat’s staff got the back of the man’s knees.

Hawkmoth stumbled back, spitting out a tooth as he went.

“I really need to get one of those, M’Lady.” Smirked Chat, falling into a defensive stance.

“I wouldn’t recommend it, Minou.” Responded Ladybug, mirroring her partner, “Looks like Mayura’s down for the count, Hawkmoth.”

Hawkmoth glanced at Mayura, as the woman continued coughing. Ladybug removed her yoyo from her hip and started spinning it, “We could easily end this now, you just have to give me your miraculous.”

“I was just about to say the same thing, Hawkmoth.” Snarked Ladybug, launching her yoyo at him.

Hawkmoth quickly dodged the attack, before swinging his cane sword at her. Ladybug blocked the attack with her arm, as Chat swung his staff at Hawkmoth’s head.

Hawkmoth snarled, before he grabbed Ladybug’s yoyo and pulled her towards him. He swung his cane-sword at her again. Ladybug raised her left arm to protect her chest and neck, only to collapse to the ground as Hawkmoth stabbed her right leg  and twisted the blade until the limb fell away from the rest of her body halfway up her thigh. Hawkmoth plucked the earrings from Ladybug’s ears and threw Marinette towards Mayura, who’d stopped coughing.

Hawkmoth turned his sights onto Chat Noir, an insane grin covering his face, “You need a new arm, boy?”

Chat gulped, before he swung his staff at Hawkmoth’s head again, only for Hawkmoth to grab his wrist. Hawkmoth grinned sadistically, as his sword pierced Chat Noir’s right bicep and he pulled on the limb until it came off the young hero’s body with a wet snap and a scream from the hero.

Hawkmoth threw Chat to the ground and smirked as he held both Miraculous in his hand.

“Finally.” Muttered Hawkmoth, before glancing down at the boy and freezing as he saw Adrien trying to stop the remains of his arm from bleeding, “Adrien?”

The boy froze, before he recognised the voice of his father.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Demanded Hawkmoth, advancing towards Adrien, “We could’ve brought your mother back together!”

Adrien froze, before looking up at Hawkmoth. Hawkmoth tutted, “No matter, we can just have another, worthier, son.”

Hawkmoth raised his sword to kill Adrien, before Mayura tackled Hawkmoth and ripped the miraculous from him. Gabriel looked down as he realised that Mayura had taken all of the miraculous he had on him, including the butterfly. The senti-monster dissolved into nothing, as Gabriel was tackled from behind, while paramedics attended to Marinette and Adrien.

D

Adrien stared down at the stump of his right arm. He now understood what Marinette meant when she said she could still feel her fingers. The very thought of his arm being cut off, much less that it was his own father that cut it off, sickened and distressed Adrien. Max had already come by and measured a new arm for him, he was muttering about having to make Marinette a leg.

Adrien knew that Marinette had lost a lot of blood, since his father’s sword had severed her leg mid-thigh and cut through an artery.

“They’re tying to sew Marinette’s leg back on,” Said Nino, making Adrien look at him, “but there is the possibility that the leg can’t be reattached.”

Adrien frowned, before Nino grabbed his remaining hand, “Focus on me, don’t look at the arm.”

Adrien cracked a small smile, as Alya poked her head through the door.

“Mari’s out of surgery, they’re putting her leg in a cast until it fully heals,” Alya informed them, “It’ll be a while, but she’s going to keep her leg.”

“Thank Allah.” Muttered Nino, releasing a sigh of relief.

“Don’t thank him yet,” Said Alya, “Marinette’s not going to take it well.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S GOING TO BE THREE TO NINE MONTHS BEFORE I CAN WALK AGAIN?!” Came Marinette’s scream, sounding panicked.

“Yeah, she does not react well to the pain killers.” Said Alya, as Marinette was wheeled past.

“I don’t need blood transfusions.” Babbled Marinette, her tone doing a complete 180.

“You lost a lot of blood, you’re barely surviving on the blood that you didn’t lose, you need these transfusions.” Said a Nurse, as Marinette pouted and glared at the cast.

“I wanna go home.” Mumbled Marinette, folding her arms and sulking.

“You’re going to be kept here for a few days for observation, but you’ll be able to go home soon.” Reassured the nurse, as she and Marinette grew further away from the room.

“Marinette doesn’t seem to like hospitals much.” Remarked Alya, before looking at Adrien, “How’re you holding up, Sunshine?”

Adrien shrugged, looking down at his lap.

“He hasn’t said a word since the fight,” Said Nino, looking away from Adrien and towards Alya, “I think he’s still in shock.”

Alya frowned sympathetically, before sighing.

“I’m not surprised, considering…” Alya trailed off.

“He was going to kill me.” Whispered Adrien, as his vision blurred, “He said he was going to bring Maman back and he was going to kill me.”

Adrien wasn’t aware he was crying until Nino pulled him into his arms.

“Breath.” Nino instructed softly, “Breath.”

Adrien choked out sobs as he buried his face in Nino’s chest.

D

Chris poked Nino’s face while sitting on his chest.

“Nino.” Whispered Chris, “Nino. Nino. Nino. Niiiinooo.”

“What is it, Chris?” Groaned Nino, squinting at his brother.

“Adrien’s had another nightmare.” Said Chris, pointing towards a dark corner of the room.

Nino could make out the vague shape of Adrien rocking back and forth with his face buried into his knees.

“Okay, thanks Chris, I’ll handle it.” Said Nino, rolling Chris off his chest, “Go back to bed.”

Chris quietly shuffled out of the room, as Nino got up and walked over to Adrien. The blond didn’t react to Nino moving towards him and Plagg was hovering next to his chosen.

“How long has he been like this?” Asked Nino, looking at the Kwami.

“A couple hours,” Responded Plagg, “Sugarcube and pigtails are already on their way over.

Nino glanced at the clock; it was six am. He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get Adrien back to sleep.

“Bro,” Nino’s voice was soft, “Bro, look at me.”

Adrien slowly lifted his head. His eyes were red and bloodshot, he had dark bags under his eyes and his face had become thin and gaunt. Adrien let out a small whine and buried his face in his knees again. A loud banging at the front door echoed though the house, Nino thought he heard his mother grumbling about whoever was at the door.

“Sorry, Ms. Lahiffe, I need to see my cat.” Came Marinette’s muffled voice, “Alya, move faster!”

Nino winced, remembering that Marinette’s leg stump was still healing. Despite Marinette being rushed to hospital a short while after the leg had been severed, the doctors focussed on getting Marinette’s blood levels back up, before focusing on the leg, which had been left behind at the battle ground. Much like Adrien’s arm, the muscles in Marinette’s leg had be torn as Hawkmoth had cut and the limb had become infected, necessitating the legs removal. Marinette was still getting used to the leg Max had made her.

The loud drag-thump sound on Marinette limping on her new leg came down the hall. The bedroom door flung open, revealing Marinette being supported by Alya.

“Adrien.” Said Marinette, as Alya struggled to get both herself and Marinette through the door.

Adrien stopped rocking himself, just as Marinette decided to push Alya away and crawl along the floor to her partner.

“I’m here, Minou,” Said Marinette, softly, once she reached Adrien, “It’s okay. It’s over.”

D

Marinette leaned on the bright pink cane Rose had given her. Everything was quiet, no birds, not aimless chatter. Just silence. Marinette caught sight of her reflection, her arm and now her leg. Marinette wondered if it would ever get the point where she was more machine than human.

Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat, before quickly looking away from her reflection. Marinette walk-limped towards the door. She carefully climbed down from her room, noticing that everything was shrouded in darkness.

“Hello?” Marinette called out, looking around for anyone who was in the apartment. Marinette reached out for the light switch, flicking it on, Marinette was assaulted by both the light and the unanimous yell of “SURPRISE!”

Marinette let out a squawk of surprise, toppling back and landed on her rear. Adrien laughed, before walking over to her. He held up his black prosthetic right hand out for Marinette, which she grabbed with her red left.

“Happy Birthday, M’Lady.” Said Adrien, as soon as Marinette was on her feet.

[emily-the-fae]

Sound of a Heartbeat

Part 3. Back to Business

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Here I am, back with a new chapter. I have absolutely no betas, so this is what I get after editing the text myself.

Pairing: Dracula x OC

Warnings: absolutley none

What Shari did not expect, was to feel cold - in fact, there was now extremely unpleasant cold at her back and something burning warm and soft at her side, the juxtaposition making her shiver and move her shoulders. As soon as she did so, sharp pain shot through the left side of her neck, causing her to flinch and groan, straightening her shoulders carefully as not to evoke another shot of pain. Why-why-why does this have to sting so much all over again? Shari could hear some sounds around her - noises like obscured quiet dialogue, the voices were still undetectable, but she already had a hint of who they might belong to. Next there was a raspy sound of someone's - or something's - quick breathing right next to her ear. Light struck her eyes through closed eyelids, causing her to turn her head, wincing. There was a sound of footsteps coming closer. Some other noise, getting louder by second, until she finally heard...

- Shari! - as soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Sypha leaning above her, anxious face watching her reaction carefully, strands of red hair falling in front of her eyes.

Shari bolted upwards, nearly bumping into the speaker and instantly regretting it as sharp pain shot through her body, she bent forward, almost folding in half, then straightened up again, taking deep breaths. Alright, easy. This is what surviving feels like. She was going to live for now. Shari looked around: she was laying on the snowy forest floor next to a campfire, her body covered with a warm cape; the wood opening was lit in dim daylight, Sypha was crouching on the ground next to her, Adrian and Trevor staring at her from across the campfire; Rodo crawled closer, putting his muzzle onto her lap and wagging his short tail happily, his nose poking her belly.

She caressed his big furry head absentmindedly. Shari did not understand how the hell she managed to make it back, especially considering her health condition. She was expecting anything, but home sweet home among the three friends on the other side of the water.

Something moved on the edge of her peripheral vision, between the trunks of the trees and Shari had to turn her shoulders fully in order to keep her neck as immobile as possible, as she tried to look in the direction of the movement. She saw a shadowy figure of the ghost stare at her, hovering immobile close to the edge of the trees. Oh, Lisa Tepes is not going to leave her alone now. She knew Shari would survive, somehow the damned woman just knew it. Now the healer could be sure the ghost will stick to her for some time and continue the scheme of "go and save the world". A very pleasant beginning of the day.

- Lord, it's so good that you're back. We seriously thought that we might lose you, - Sypha threw her arms around Shari's neck, for the time being taking the healer's thoughts off her new acquaintance. - I tried all I could, you know, magic and other stuff... Adrian almost suggested turning you, - Shari snorted. Like hell he would have.

- How long was I...?

- Three days, - Sypha's face was probably as pale as her own. The poor girl must have done all she was capable of to keep Shari alive.

- To be honest, I am quite surprised that my father didn't finish what he started, but I am anyway relieved, that you are well, - Adrian walked up to her and petted her shoulder. - I'm so sorry we weren't there to help you straight away.

- It's fine, Adrian, we couldn't have predicted that he would pay us a visit. It's not anybody's fault, - no it is. My own and yours too, it was a dumb idea to leave the most battle-unprepared person alone. Shari shut the voice in her head and smiled weakly.

Trevor just nodded from across the fire, listening to their exchange; he watched the three of them, his gaze from time to time drifting back to Shari, or rather to the reddened patch on her neck. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if hesitant to speak, then finally spilled it out:

- How did he attack you? How did he find us? Did he speak? – the hunter started throwing questions at her and Shari got a strong feeling of being interrogated.

- I-I don't know, - Shari almost lied, throwing a cautious glance at Lisa. - He just, sort of, appeared and attacked me that's mostly it.

- He probably watched us. She was alone, so he decided to weaken us by removing the one left vulnerable, - Adrian finished, lowering himself on the ground next to the healer. Shari didn't want to respond, dropping herself to her improvised bed in exhaustion.

- You must be more or less right. That night is a bit foggy in my memory, really, - she huffed.

- He has a nasty habit of putting his victims under hypnosis, so your condition is quite - I almost said normal - quite to be expected I dare say, - Adrian mumbled matter-of-factedly, his palm coming up to caress her head and brush away a few stray strands of hair from her face. Shari felt her stomach turn in fear at the word "victims", she breathed out heavily. Silence followed.

- Guys, seriously, I feel drained... - Shari stretched as well as she could; Sypha snorted at her involuntary pun. - Can I please just rest for a while?

- Of course. Take your time and gain some strength. You'll need it soon, - Adrian spoke before anyone could respond. He stretched out his hand to take her palm in his for a moment, capturing her attention. - You deserve some rest. Thank you... For not dying on us. Really, - his tone began to be uncharacteristically serious, but as he ended his words in a chuckle, Shari could only breath out and smile warmly. Sypha just nodded and hurried to cover her once more with the large warm cape - the healer wasn't sure if it was Adrian's of Trevor's.

Shari lay back in peace for once, feeling Rodo's large warm form next to herself and letting the sounds of the forest wash over her. Maybe she could at least get some normal sleep.

***

When she woke up the next time, it was already deep in the night. The fire was burning low, Sypha and Trevor sleeping soundly on the ground around it, curled into two freezing balls, an empty bottle next to Trevor's hand - as per usual - and Adrian nowhere to be seen. Rodo purred in discontent, shaking his sleepy red eyed head, when Shari tried to sit up.

There was a shadow at the edge of the trees once again watching the small campsite intently; Shari could see it clearly its outline hiding behind the tree trunks. Lisa. The woman caught her gaze and beckoned her to come closer. Shari shook her head at first, but the woman only continued gesturing more aggressively; she hesitated for a while, contemplating whether she should just turn on her side and go back to sleep, then stood up at last almost against her own will, walking up to the ghost cautiously, ready for any unpleasant surprise. She felt like she was going to regret even this small decision.

Lisa, seeing her move, turned away and walked further into the tree shadows, leading the human away from the campfire; Shari could barely follow her transparent form, walking through the bushes careful not to make too much noise that could awaken her unaware companions. Rodo ran behind his human, smelling the air around him for any traces of life, his huge claws making him clumsy as he trotted through the bushes. At first Shari could barely see her way, cursing under her breath as she went until all of a sudden she found herself in an opening once more, a small free patch of ground formed around an old fallen tree, it's darkened trunk laying on the ground and clearing some space around it; Shari saw the ghost settle on top of the trunk as if sitting down on a bench, gesturing for the human to do the same. Shari walked closer and lowered herself next to the woman. It was silent for a few moments.

- Did you really have to do that? - Shari spoke up.

- Do what? - Lisa responded.

- Appear to me. Rush my decisions.

- I didn't. In fact, I tried to tell you to think it over, if you remember?

- Oh yes, you didn't intimidate me with the prospects of returning to Earth straight for a painful fight, - sarcasm it is.

- I needed you to be out here.

Silence once more.

- Why don't they see you? Adrian and others - you were there in the morning, but they didn't notice. Are you just a hallucination? In my head? I’m going insane, am I? - Shari asked. The ghost sighed in response, lowering her head.

- No, no. I believe, you... Crossed some border because of almost dying. You aren't supposed to be seeing me now, it never happened to me before... Maybe you are able to see the other dead too. Maybe it's just me because I tried to connect to you, - Lisa answered, unconfident, studying the girl's face. - I was never exactly an expert in the paranormal field.

- You raised a vampire son.

- That's different!

Pause.

- I'm still not going to go looking for Dracula, - Shari stated.

- You can go looking for his castle instead then, - Lisa was seemingly unworried about her decision.

- Looking for his castle?! Do you even hear yourself? How is that supposed to be "instead"? How.. Wait, why?

- Well, as you said, you want to hold onto your life - he has the answer to your sickness, your salvation - I know, I remember, I've been to his library - if you manage to find the castle, you will as well find the cure, - Lisa smiled knowingly at Shari's visible confusion. The healer wrinkled her nose, thinking. Now there was something to it – could be possible; a chance for longer survival, if the stories didn’t lie; besides Dracula is quite busy and Lisa had told her she watched over him. But still...

- Oh no, I'm not buying this. You're just telling this to me, because you want me to encounter him. He very obviously will be there and will certainly be not happy about a human intruder. I won't go, nope, - Shari replied.

- Don't you think it's the better option of not encountering him? - there was a smirk on the ghost's face now.

- Oh, yes, why would that be?

- He's following you four around, he said it himself, so he will definitely notice you are still alive and quite soon. But I do know he is not as often in his castle nowadays - so if you leave the others, in fact, you will have better chances of...

- Alright, alright, Lady Logic, I get it. What's in it for you then? Making me search the castle? Sounds all too good for me and nothing for you, as you place it. What do you have in mind?- Shari stared at the ghost suspiciously, waiting for the answer.

- His castle and all its movement is controlled only from the inside, I know it for sure. And maybe, just maybe, together we could find a way to reverse this war with minimum blood. If we find a way to stick the castle to one place, he will have to be more careful, because his safe place will grow more vulnerable. As for Adrian and your team out there – they wouldn’t be able to ambush him. Drawn in that condition they may have more time and necessity to… reconsider some of their tactics. Who says diplomacy should work without a little destructive help? You and I – together we can create the needed mess, - Lisa responded. This sounded almost like a rehearsed speech. - Magic and knowledge: if you help it may actually work out.

- And that's all? - Shari raised an eyebrow.

- Yes.

- Too simple.

- Only on speech, - Lisa tilted her head towards Shari. - Do we have a deal?

- I don't trust you, - Shari cut back. - You're nice and all, but I don't trust you, - she stood up from the tree trunk.

- You don't have to. But we need each other, you have to admit it, - the ghost responded with an amused smile. Shari really wanted to shut her ears and run away. This was no good. There was no way the ghost wasn't lying about Dracula deserting his castle; Adrian said he wouldn't... Though Adrian didn't expect him to be watching them either.

- Okay. Say I do trust you – for now. What do I do? How do I get away and to his castle without Adrian?

- Leave tomorrow. Tell them you need to go and settle some personal matter – or rest somewhere peaceful, that you know of a small village to rest in for a while. That you're sick and solving it - it's not far from the truth. You'll catch up with them in some time… possibly, - Lisa told it all as if she had planned the whole thing a long time ago, which unnerved Shari quite a lot.

- Will I though? - mistrust once again.

- Depends on you, - the ghost dissolved into thin air. - Remember, we both need each other.

[makeste]

I’ve just realised it’s been over a year since you last listed your top 10 characters! Has anything changed since then?

a lot has changed! actually, every single ranking has changed from last time except for one (which you can probably guess, lol).

1. Bakugou (previous rank: 1)

yes, believe it or not, Bakugou is still my favorite. I’ll understand if you all need a moment to recuperate from the shock of this.

2. Deku (previous rank: 4)

hi, so. I really love Deku a lot. I think he is a great character and there’s a lot of subtlety and complexity to him that he doesn’t always get credit for. he is loving and kind, but he’s not a pushover. he has moments of deer-in-headlights anxiety when he’s in the spotlight or talking to celebrities (or girls), but then he’ll go and launch into a five-hour speech if someone mentions a topic he’s interested in. he’s very much aware of the huge burden that’s been placed on his shoulders, and is struggling to figure out how to become his own person (which is fucking hard, you guys; how many sixteen-year-olds do you know who have a solid, firm idea of who they are as a person and what it is about themselves that makes them unique individuals?) while still living up to All Might’s legacy. he’s smart and determined and capable of extraordinary things, but second-guesses himself and has a tendency to overthink everything he does. he is interesting!! and he doesn’t always get credit for being interesting! but he is! anyways Deku ilu.

3. Aizawa (previous rank: 2)

still the best. still so tired. the manga is tripling down lately on highlighting how awesome he is. childhood angst and guilt and trauma?? yes. kicking lots of ass?? hell yes. being outrageously sexy with his floating wavy hair and glowy red eyes and spending almost this entire arc in Eraser Mode while Horikoshi hopes to god no one remembers how he made it a Whole Thing after USJ that Aizawa supposedly couldn’t hold his quirk for long periods like that anymore?? oh, you bet. who is even gonna complain about it. you?? I sure am not. and last but not least, being the greatest dad in the world who’s willing to stab god in the face in order to stay alive to protect his children and continue to watch them grow?? fam. you goddamn know that is a YES WITH CAPITAL LETTERS. how can one character honestly be so great. how can he even contain it. he’s so powerful.

4. Todoroki (previous rank: 5/6)

Ochako slid all the way off my top ten list and I feel so bad about it. but she hasn’t had the spotlight for a long time, and meanwhile Shouto has had what feels like ARC AFTER ARC of being awesome and doing awesome things like becoming Bakugou’s Undisputed Best Friend, having the longest and purest canon romantic relationship in the series (I am of course talking about him/soba), and playing a key role in one of the most beautifully executed family arcs I have ever seen, with his conflicted feelings about his father that are so layered that THEIR LAYERS HAVE LAYERS. and meanwhile his quirk kicks as much ass as ever. remember that one time Shouto almost burned Tetsutetsu alive. remember that other time he fucking annihilated Ending (“GIVE ME BACK MY BROTHER”)?! and meanwhile he remains the goodest and purest child in the entire series, making sure Mt. Lady’s heart is okay, and offering his two friends internships without a second’s hesitation because THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS DO. it’s just what they do you guys.

5. Hawks (previous rank: n/a! welcome to the top ten kiddo.)

OH NO I LOVE A MURDERER WHAT A STUNNING INDICTMENT OF ME. send me off to jail. anyway so I have always liked Hawks, but the latest arc has sent him skyrocketing up through the ranks of my heart. not because of the murder thing, but... okay well but actually, it is because of the murder thing though. NOT BECAUSE I’M HAPPY HE KILLED A GUY WE ALL LOVED, jesus, but because of how well Horikoshi portrayed his struggle over it. he didn’t want to do it!! but he ended up having to in the end, and he paid one hell of a heavy price for it. and listen, but if you give me a character who is smart, who is compassionate, and who is one of the most mentally and physically capable characters we’ve seen in the series and yet simultaneously does not have even the slightest ounce of regard or self-preservation for his own mental health? a character who is tired, who is willing to make sacrifices up to and including the ultimate sacrifice for what he believes is the greater good? a character who is achingly alone and isolated in so much of what he has to go through, who doesn’t dare drop his guard ever, who’s not able or willing to share his burdens with anyone else? if you give me a character like that, and then ask me not to love him, it’s like. I am very sorry but I truly have no say in it at this point. he’s adopted. I’m sorry it’s the law.

6. Tomura (previous rank: n/a)

OH NO I LOVE TWO MURDERERS WHAT EVEN IS WRONG WITH ME. hahaha. so in between the time of now and when I last did a character ranking, Tomura had a flashback! and it was very traumatic! he was little and sweet and his dad was a dick and there was a lot of blood and gore and a dog died!! and then AFO was all “HELLO IT’S ME COME TO SWOOP IN AND ADOPT YOU AND ENCOURAGE YOU TO KILL STUFF AND ALSO HERE ARE YOUR DEAD FAMILY’S SEVERED BODY PARTS TO ADORN YOURSELF WITH SO YOU NEVER STOP FEELING MISERABLE.” and everyone sitting there reading was all, “well I’ll just come out and say it, I can sort of understand why he became a murderer now,” and we all agreed that yes, it did indeed make a great deal of sense, when you put it that way. anyway, so obviously you can’t not feel empathy toward the kid after all that, even if he is going around killing A WHOLE LOT MORE people now, and has basically gone batshit insane actually. I remain steadfast in my conviction that Tomura is not the actual final villain -- AFO is. and call me crazy, but in spite of everything, I still think this kid has a shot at redemption. it won’t be pretty, and it’ll be a long, long path, and he might not ever fully make it all the way, but he’s someone who’s been manipulated and used as a puppet his entire life, and I want him to have the chance to finally break free from that. hopefully he’ll get it.

7. Mirko (previous rank: n/a)

so previously this section just said “MIRKO!!!!!”, which I honestly think sums it up pretty well. I honestly can’t think of any other character who has come along and just slapped me straight across the face with their sheer awesomeness as much as her, though. every time she’s onscreen/on the page my face is just a huge grin the entire time. she is fearless. like, she’s the type of person who actually does laugh in the face of danger -- like that’s not just an expression, she will LITERALLY LAUGH. she is Peter Pan with a dagger to his throat, smiling and saying “to die would be an awfully big adventure.” she is someone who’s found her purpose in life and is thriving. Mirko has no time for your existential angst; she’s too busy kicking ass every minute of every hour of every day. I love her so, so much. thank you so much Horikoshi for being obsessed with her and making her the biggest badass in the whole series.

8. All Might (previous rank: 3)

I still adore him! he just has had next to nothing to do for what seems like forever, so the other characters who are still getting steady development are kind of just sneaking past him one by one. but he is still the absolute best. he cares so much. so, so, so, so much. he’s not always the most natural when it comes to being a teacher or a mentor, and he stumbles and makes mistakes, but he loves his kids. he cares about them so fiercely. and that’s far and away the most important thing, and it’s not even close. and he’s also just so endlessly self-sacrificing and constantly putting everyone else before himself, and it’s insane. he’s someone who is just constantly thinking, “how can I do more, how can I help more, what else can I do to try and make the world better” even as he stumbles along with half a lung, and struggles with his feelings of inadequacy and helplessness and feeling like it’s just still not enough. I want to give All Might the biggest hug in the world and tell him that it’s all right, that he did good, that the kids are going to be all right. when Aizawa told him “you being alive is enough” I almost had a breakdown tbh. anyway if I keep going I’m gonna talk myself into moving him back up the list and then I’ll have to rearrange this whole thing lol so suffice it to say, fuck yeah All Might.

9. Momo (previous rank: 7)

when is Momo gonna do more stuff, Horikoshi?? huh??! he does realize that whenever she does stuff it’s always amazing?? so why is she not just constantly doing amazing, awesome stuff all the time?? I don’t know, and frankly I’ve had just about enough of this. let Momo do stuff 2020. but I won’t talk about this anymore for now because I haven’t ready any chapter 278 spoilers and I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

(ETA: I HAVE READ CHAPTER 278 NOW AND ALL I CAN SAY IS YESSSSS!!! MOMO!!!! also I swear to god I genuinely had not seen any spoilers when I was writing this post lol, it was a total coincidence. I’m glad the “let Momo do stuff 2020″ campaign was so immediately successful though.)

10. Kaminari (previous rank: 8)

last but not least, my five-and-a-half-year-old traitor son, Kaminari Denki. he is just such a shining beam of light and life and goodness and chaos. there is this amazingly buoyant energy whenever he’s on the page that just fills me with love for him. I constantly just want to ruffle his hair, just, all the damn time. he is everybody’s friend, he loves them all so much, and he fearlessly calls Bakugou “Kacchan” heedless of the repercussions (OF WHICH THERE WERE NONE!!), and he sincerely tells Jirou that he’s in awe of her musical talents, and he wrecked his fingers learning to play guitar for her but he was happy to do it, and he was afraid to fight in the big ALL THE VILLAINS VS ALL THE HEROES battle because DUH!?! but he still did it anyway because he had to protect his friends. and his quirk and its side effects are constantly used for comic relief and not taken seriously at all (even though it’s actually insanely powerful holy shit), but he doesn’t care because he’s happy to make his friends happy. he’ll willingly be the butt of the joke if it means he gets to see them laugh. he just has such a big heart, and in all seriousness, if you think he’s the traitor I just don’t even know what to say to you.

so that’s it! Tokoyami, Ochako, Shinsou, Iida, and Sero would probably be the next five, with Endeavor, Toga, Mina, Jirou, and Mirio rounding out the top twenty. maybe not in that exact order but it’s close enough. really there are only like three characters in the series I actually truly dislike, so I’m honestly glad “top ten” is the general standard otherwise I’d be here all night running through them all lol.

[aestheticaxolotl]

Lets Talk About Gunnar Maelstrom

Evil Daddies is where it’s at.

One of the meanings of the word "Maelstrom" is 'A situation of state of confused movement or violent turmoil.

Let me start with Maelstrom, usung the Carmen Sandiego Wiki to break him down as a whole, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show, this will be hard seeing his major inclusion to the story so please bear with me once more as I do this).

Professor Maelstrom is a middle-aged man with pale skin and white hair with a receding hairline. He has broad shoulders and wears a black blazer over a dark gray turtleneck. As stated previously, Maelstrom is seen as being an almost unnaturally pale color, hinting towards possible Albinism.

Now, Middle aged according to the wiki page is between 50 and 60. Seeing the receding hairline and the lines on his face (Also can someone point me to a source about those random chin hairs? Like please I need context). 

He obviously has stress and sleep lines. I imagine these are due to his life choices and idiot operatives. His ethnicity is stated as being Swedish but continues to contradict itself when it later states that Maelstrom is from Scandinavia. I think this is to throw the readers and deep show watchers off and it would work better if both ethnicity and race were left as unknown. 

Now we move on to the easier things, personality, which is LONG. So let me start writing!

Of the five members of V.I.L.E's faculty, Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group, being the first to speak as well as hand out orders. As one may expect, Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry. Professor Maelstrom often likes to tinker with his patients' psyches and enjoys psychologically evaluating students, much like someone finding joy in pulling the wings off a butterfly. He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him. He also has an apparent fondness for the more psychotic recruits. In keeping with his name, his main desire is to spread chaos and disorder, with any actual gain being a secondary concern at best. Carmen considered him to be creepy, and rightfully so after he and Dr. Bellum collaborated to wipe Crackle's brain. Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker as he has no tolerance for her stuck up behavior towards him. He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens. His use of the term "bait" as a pun is in reference to fishing bait, and in the novel adaptation, it is used twice. Further expanding the psychological exam scene from the show, in the novel, he declares that Carmen gave the "wrong" answer to the Rorschach test, stating that the image was a seahorse. The novelization expanded his sense of humor, though it mentions that even that had a dark and unpredictable tinge to it, showing delight in the lengths that his students would go in order to not be called upon in class. The show does have him throw a small quip every once in a while, often tinged with exasperation at his colleagues' antics or ignorance. He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style, having asked Le Chevre and El Topo in the "The Fishy Doubloon Caper" to acquire an Ecuadorian Eight Escudos doubloon to be melted into solid gold cufflinks.

As done in my previous post, I will be diving deeper into the statement in the bolded font. 

Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group,

I don’t see any major reason for this face besides that there is a level of respect among the Faculty that centers around Maelstrom, seeing as he is one of the psychologically smarter than any of the other members, except Shadowsan but that is a post for another day. He is a very scary character because he is unpredictable, and possibly in the minds of the other, can be blamed for their crimes should they ever had been caught, but this leads me to my second quip with Gunnar Maelstrom.

Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry

When one looks up the term ‘Criminally insane’ we get the following “an accused person that is deemed to be suffering from cognitive illness or fault which frees then of lawful accountability for the unlawful behaviors” from https://psychologydictionary.org/criminally-insane/. 

I cannot at all say that I support this terminology on the stance that Maelstrom is more than aware of his action, to the point where he logically makes the choices to leave his fellow faculty behind at the prospect of capture. One cannot say that a “Criminally insane’ person is able to make these choices so quickly and with such calculation as to pack a go bag and hire an escape driver. But I digress.

He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him.

I don’t think that Maelstrom can stand to be labeled by other people. The exact use of the phrase “Weak-minded’ points me to believe that Maelstrom sees himself as mentally stronger, powerful, and far beyond that of the average person. This points to his class, and I’ll explain this in the next part, being the most critical and important to V.I.L.E as a whole.

His main desire is to spread chaos and disorder

This is WAY too specific to just be a drop in detail. No character is created be be a chaotic mixture, but they are built to SPREAD chaos, and Maelstrom is the perfect character to do this. His favor to Paperstar is a direct jab at this detail about him, she is an element of chaos that he put into play, the disorder of her is why he places her, while the other faculty hate Paperstar, he finds her the perfect wild card.

Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker 

I fully think this is, as the wiki and al of my sources say, Cookie Booker represents the original 1998 Carmen Sandeigo. And the loathing between them is a reference to the original game and books.

He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens.

Not gonna lie, but I love this detail. The details, that caused me to GO BACK and watch the episodes with Maelstrom, was that the man likes fish. This adds onto the effect that he is rather cold and uncaring towards people, seeing them a thing to observe and keep. I also just love the idea of him having a fish tank and spoiling his goldfish that he named Clyde or something equally related to big time crime, like Al Capone or as said before Clyde.

He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style

I’m sorry but Cleo and Gunnar challenging each other to see who is better in fashion? I’m sorry but they are the fashion police. Also I think this places WHO he is close to in the Faculty. I am very willing to bet that Maelstrom, who left Coach Brunt to drown and die, would NEVER leave Cleo or Bellum (Possibly) to die because they align more with HIS goals.

Brunt is... Dare I say... THE DUMBEST OF THE V.I.L.E FACULTY

WHAT DOES SHE DO?!?!

WHY IS SHE HERE?!

SHE’S STRONG AND THAT’S IT!

I digress (i used that phrase twice now), I just think his goals line up more with Cleo and (Again, possibly) Bellums’.

Now I go onto my favorite part of these paragraphs, the trivia/abilities. I love trivia/abilities, just because everyone sees this word and they are like ‘oh it’s just dumb facts’. BUT NO! It’s DENSTRAMENTAL to the character and links to their personalities.

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch. Professor Maelstrom specializes in psychiatry. He has been shown to have a favorite student, similar to the other faculty, in Paper Star; despite her disregard of the protocol in Mumbai. His grudge against Cookie Booker could be a subtle reference to the hostile relationship that his previous incarnation had with Carmen Sandiego in the 90's cartoon. As shown in the season three episode, The Haunted Bayou Caper, he has a fondness for Halloween.

Most od this is already covered, i know, so I won’t go over what I already did. SO let me just say... I know-

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch 

I NEED to SEE Maelstrom just- *Pulls and Bait and switch* -STEAL FROM SOMEONE. Like. I could totally believe that Maelstrom is the sleekest, most sneaky, most Swiper is swiping guy in the world. I am okay with letting them tell me this, but NO okay with them not SHOWING ME.

Netflix, I HOPE you see this so you can give me a SHOW on HOW GUNNAR MET MY MOTHER, COUNTESS CLEO.

He has a fondness for Halloween.

Charlie Pants. 

Do I need to say any more?

Okay, big ending time. So Gunnar Maelstrom, a deeply interesting character, mysterious backstory that a person can read into, different fun facts that lead to speculation and interest and amazing stories. I love Gunnar Maelstrom’s character, his personality, and his appearance. His effect? 100. His story? 100. His ability to make me rewatch the series? 100. 

Thanks for reading this. I’ll have another one out soon! Requests are open

[dangermousie]

I love how they mirror each other, here they say the same thing in unison - they definitely fit well together (and that goes even in things like keeping the other person in the dark for their own good/taking decisions out of that person’s hands - this is such a pattern between them that honestly it doesn’t bother me because it’s clearly a basic character trait and it would be weird for it to disappear. She pushed him away on the mountain, he pushed her away repeatedly as Lord Bo, she drugged him to go and rescue his brother etc etc. That’s just how they are dysfunctionally built.)

This happens much later but I feel like bringing it up now so:

They have clearly cut the FUCK out of the plot. I mean, this comes out of nowhere - now she has super strength thing (and probably hulked out since she asked Snake Lady about whether she hurt her) like Wolfie used to but also black blood which means imminent death and WHAT HOW WHY I feel like I skipped five episodes. Honestly, the things I want to do to the censors should be banned by the Geneva Convention.

I mean, three versions - (1) she decided to take the hulk out medicine because she wanted to go rescue Fourth Brother so Wolfie won’t go and die. She didn’t care about the side effects danger because she doesn’t want to live without Wolfie anyway but they are even quicker and more severe than she thought. That doesn’t make sense since she has a whole army at her disposal, she doesn’t need to go by herself. (2) She took it as part of effort to find antidote for Wolfie’s issues and either it failed or she didn’t lie when she told Wolfie during their wedding there is an antidote (and there is some plot reason why he could have it but she can’t.) (3) Remember that weird as hell treatment the King told Snake Lady to give to her supposedly for her legs back way when and it was gonna be a means to control her and there was something creepy in the water but they never showed what and it seemed to have been dropped. I think the King could have ordered Snake Lady to give her that stuff, but it was only a little and maybe the plan went haywire later with all that happened, so it didn’t really catch up with her until now. 

I mean, I really NEED to know that stuff. It drives me crazy that it clearly had a very functional plot (no, it was never going to be Joy of Life or The Story of Minglan, but it clearly had a thought out dark fairy tale type of plot - certainly as solid as e.g., Prince of Lan Ling, Love and Redemption or similar) but because of the cuts, some of it now lurches as a no-leg monster. The drama still works so much for me because of its emotional, shippy and character beats, but objectively the narrative becomes a huge mess at times.

The other thing (I was talking about it to @andoqin​ and I am lazy and am stealing a lot of it from what I said in chat), is in the original Wolfie killed her father (just take a look at those scenes - the build, the weapons, the clothes, it’s Wolfie) and censors made them cut it. Which - then the story then becomes “I hated him but now I know he didn’t kill my dad, I do not” and that is a fun cliche but cliche. But it’s a factual mess and emotionally the other narrative is more interesting.

Factually:

1. She never talks during her big taking him back scene about “now I know you are utterly innocent of killing my dad” which you would think be the biggest relevant point. No, all she talks is his expiating and redeeming and paying back.

2. If he never killed her family and didn’t even know they would be killed (which wtf - the King clearly thinks he is capable of killing the woman he loves if the king asks, but will cavil at killing a random old man?) plus we never see his supposed atrocities, what does he need to atone for? Sure, he executed some people on orders of king but all we see are adult rebel types. And he was an epic jerk to her. But being a bad boyfriend and carrying commands of the king (and none of these commands are particularly depraved thanks to the censors) is run of the mill feudal lord behavior. I mean, the way the censors left things, he’s better than Feng Xi in Twisted Fate of Love who killed the heroine upon meeting her (and he didn’t know she was immortal and come back), whipped her (to free her from prison; at least none of Wolfie’s insanity included a whipping), and does a hell of shady stuff for noble vengeance reasons. But (rightly), there is no issue with Feng Xi because he has ok reasons for his actions, falls hard for DY, is willing to die for her etc. Feng Xi is certainly not being shipped to the mines and repenting like he’s been murdering babies. No should he be, I hasten to add, but in the modified narrative, neither should Wolfie! I mean his horror and repentance and hitting rock bottom and all that suffering become out of proportion to any of his wrongs (he is solidly middle of the pack as far as period cdrama heroes and bad stuff.) Like - unless they are all Quakers, he doesn’t have that much to repent for to that extent. “My father the king is a douche and I treated you badly” might be break up territory but it’s not REPENT SINNER one. (Same goes to everyone calling him a monster and him believing it and how hard it hits him just as it hits him hard when she insists he’s a human. Since he doesn’t turn into a literal physical monster any more nor has he even been shown to do horrific things other than some really veiled allusions, it makes me think all those other people calling him that are a bunch of hysterics.)

3. In this narrative, the Trio were the only ones who killed Daddy. Fine. But she has no interest in seeking revenge on the remaining two. None. 

And that brings me to the point that emotionally, the original narrative to me is so much stronger because there he (and Trio) killed her family but she can look past it because she realizes they were all tools of a monster who were brought up and gaslit and brainwashed and had basically no choice about any of it, and they genuinely cared for her. With respect to Wolfie, he was basically tortured into inhumanity but he still loved her so much and all of his actions where he was horrid to her were driven not by cruel enjoyment of her suffering or lack of feeling but by his love and need to protect her. And he literally tried to die to expiate. And I love that this is what matters to her - what was the deal breaker for her never was her family’s death because she understands even early on that none of them had a choice or even ability to fully consent and comprehend what they were doing. Her deal breaker was not that he (and the Trio) was damaged and was forced to do awful stuff, but that he enjoyed it, that he didn’t care, that his love was not genuine, that he didn’t have a loving loyal heart under all the damage. And honestly, that narrative is so much more powerful to me.