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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Day 28, Post #1 by @floreatcastellumposts

Title: The Argument Author/Artist: FloreatCastellum Pairing: Gen Prompt: “Siblings: The only enemy you can’t live without” -Anonymous Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Mild language

When he was a child, Ron had sometimes sat secretly on the stairs, feet in slippers too big for him, teddy tucked under his arm, listening to the goings on in the kitchen. Often his sister or a brother or two would be with him. This was especially the case when there was an argument, because they were a nosy bunch of kids, and they would grin gleefully at one another as they heard their mother roar over some issue, like when Bill came home with his first tattoo, or Charlie had done something dangerous like climb on the roof, or the many, many, many things that Fred and George had done. They would gather on the stairs and snigger and delight in their siblings being in trouble - that it wasn't them, and usually it was over something hilarious too.

Today was quite different. The stairs were narrow, so Ginny was pressed right up against him, but she was gripping hold of his arm too. Behind them, Fred and George sat in grim, stony silence, their knees occasionally knocking the back of Ron's head, but, remarkably, none of them were squabbling.

'Is it so hard to just be happy for me?' Percy was bellowing, and that in itself was unusual, because it was never Percy in trouble.

'It's not about that,' Dad was bellowing back, 'are you so naive? Are you really so foolish-?' This was unusual too, because it wasn't usually Dad bellowing.

'Percy... Percy, we're just worried, we're just concerned...' Mum was sobbing. This was unusual, because she usually had a bit more fight in her, not this desperate pleading.

'You're so cynical, the pair of you-'

'We're realistic! You've been promoted well above your grade before the dust has settled on the inquiry-'

'STOP BRINGING UP THE INQUIRY!' Percy sounded quite deranged; the ferocity of his voice made Ginny jump slightly, and grip Ron's arm harder. 'That - wasn't - my - fault! That was the point of it! That PROVED I wasn't to blame, I was acquitted-'

'Yes, and we were delighted,' said Dad, and to Ron's astonishment, his words sounded bitingly sarcastic, 'but even so, you have to see that mass scandal is not usually a precursor to promotion!'

'He SAW something in me!'

'Yes, he did! He saw a potential spy! On our family - on Dumbledore-'

Percy let out a maniacal laugh, forced and sneering and sanctimonious, it made Ron wince as he heard it. 'And you say I'm arrogant?'

'We've never said you were arrogant-' Mum tried to chip in desperately, but Percy continued talking over her.

'You think you're important enough to warrant the Minister for Magic spying on you? You think he considers you in the same circle as Dumbledore? More to the point, you think Dumbledore truly respects the likes of you?'

'Fudge has been going round making it more than clear that anyone who supports Dumbledore can clear out their desks-'

'Utter rot-'

'-He knows I'm friendly with him, he knows I have advised the school on muggleborn inte-'

'No one cares!' Percy screamed. 'No one cares about that stuff! You're ludicrous!'

'Ludicrous?' Dad echoed, with an uncharacteristic scoff to his voice.

'Ludicrous! Not everything is a conspiracy, not everything has an anti-muggle agenda - I know what this is really about, you're embarrassed that your own son is rising above you, is succeeding where you haven't-'

'Percy!' Mum's gasp was so clear that Ron could easily imagine her hand leaping to her chest.

'I've had to struggle against your lousy reputation ever since I started! Do you know how embarrassing it is? Do you know what it's like having people ask if I'm related to the muggle-mad Weasley on Level Two-'

'That's enough,' said Dad coldly.

'I lie to them, d'you know that? I tell them we're only distantly related.'

'What the fuck?' Ron heard one of the twins whisper behind them. 'Is he serious?'

'I never imagined I had raised you to be so small-minded-' Dad was spitting back.

'It's baffling that you raised me at all! You, who has no ambition, no sense, no idea of how ridiculous you come across with your obsession with muggles - is it any wonder you've always been passed over for promotion-'

'-Because of bigotry!'

'-Any wonder you've left your children to grow up in poverty? To be humiliated by the failures of their father?'

'Stop it! Percy, stop it!' Mum was wailing, and whether it was Fred or George directly behind him Ron didn't know, but their knee was trembling against the back of his head.

'It's not failure, it's a matter of principle and integrity!' Dad roared back. 'There are more important things than gold, that's what we've always-'

'You are deluded! You are so blinded by your persecution complex, by your victimhood, that you cannot be happy for your son!' Percy’s voice was hoarse and raw, whether from tears or overexertion, Ron wasn’t sure. 'You can't bear to see him succeed where you failed! To see him make something of himself!'

'Why would I be happy watching my son be manipulated and used? Make no mistake, Percy - this is no achievement, this is Fudge playing you as a puppet - if you're ashamed of your background, that's your prerogative, but there's no denying this family is known to be close to Dumbledore and Harry, and Fudge is waging a vendetta against-'

‘You’re an idiot to run around with Dumbledore!’ snapped Percy. ‘He’s heading for trouble - gone completely power mad the last few years - you know full well his glory days are over. You’ll end up going down with him-’

‘Fudge is fighting a campaign against Dumbledore when he should be-’

‘I know where my loyalties lie, and it is not with my old teacher! It is with my employer, the leader of my government, with people who look at the facts!’

‘The facts are that Harry-’

'Yes - Harry - here we go,' snapped Percy. 'You rank the word of a child above the expert testimonies and mountains of evidence brought up by the inquiry, above your own boss - no wonder he thinks you're cracked. You’re determined to see conspiracy everywhere-’

‘How can you say that? You saw the aftermath of what happened, you saw him-’

‘I saw the actual dead boy, I saw Diggory!’ snapped Percy. ‘Think what his family is going through, their child’s death being used as a political quaffle-’

‘That is Fudge’s doing! That is his choice! He has chosen to make a mockery of Diggory, to disregard Harry-'

‘To question the story of a teenager,’ corrected Percy. His tone was cold and quiet, the kind of sanctimonious "I'm being the grown up here, actually" patience that Ron found unbearably aggravating. ‘The only evidence is his word, it’s not unreasonable to question a witness. In fact, it’s a perfectly standard part of due process.’

Ron’s growing anger was now twisted with a kind of lurching dread. The snide little comments in the Daily Prophet, which they had all blustered and raged and gasped in revolted disdain at over breakfasts for the past week, suddenly felt sinister. As he thought about it, Percy had never joined in… had always been silent…

‘Percy…’ said Mum, so faintly that, as one, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George all leaned forward to listen. ‘Percy, surely you… surely you believe him? Surely you can’t believe he deserves what they’re saying about him? He’s just a child - it’s like the whole world’s forgotten that he’s just a child.’

'Yes, he's just a child - so why should he be the centre of everything?' Percy demanded. 'Why should he shape our family? Impact our careers?'

'Percy… if you had seen him in the hospital wing, if you had looked into his eyes…'

'Mr Fudge was not convinced,' said Percy, as though that settled the matter.

‘Has he asked you about Harry?’ Dad asked abruptly. Beside Ron, Ginny was shaking. ‘Casually?’

‘I - no more than is to be expected when you have someone famous living under your roof-’

‘What did he ask? What did you say?’

They heard a brief, thick silence, and a sharp exhale of air. ‘He… he’s not relevant to this discussion. This is beyond - this isn’t the issue - the only evidence is his word, as I said-’

‘You don’t believe him.’ Dad’s voice was blank, stunned, quiet. ‘You… you know that boy, Percy.’

‘You don’t believe in me,’ said Percy, and Ron could hear his tears now, the slight thickness to his voice, the sniffs between words. ‘You’d rather believe in some ludicrous conspiracy theory from a teenager who thinks he sees You-Know-Who around every corner than believe that your own son might have worked hard, might be talented, might deserve his career. You’d really think so little of me.’

‘That’s not it. That’s not it at all,’ Dad said quietly, and Mum was crying loudly. ‘We just-’

‘I don’t care!’ said Percy harshly. ‘I don’t care what you think! Not any more! Years I’ve put up with it, years! I’m going - I’m gone - I don’t want to see either of you again - you’ve made it clear that you don’t have my interests at heart, this was your choice-’

‘What do you mean?’ Mum shrieked, and they could hear the scraping of chairs being moved aside, thundering footsteps, Mum begging-

The door was thrust open, and Percy stood for a moment in the hallway, looking up at the four of them sitting on the stairs. His expression was unreadable. Tear tracks shone from beneath his horn-rimmed glasses, and his mouth was a thin, grim line.

‘Move,’ he told them.

‘You’re being a right bellend,’ said Fred at once.

‘MOVE!’

They did not, and Mum had come running after Percy, hanging desperately onto his arm though he tried to shake her off. ‘Come on, Perce,’ she pleaded. ‘Come and sit down, let’s all cool off and talk about this-’

‘Get out of my way,’ Percy told his siblings once more, and now Ron stood.

‘Harry’s part of our family,’ he blurted out furiously.

‘He’s not, Ron,’ Percy growled. ‘He’s your friend, that doesn’t mean everything he says is right - move out my way.’

‘How can you say that!’ Ginny demanded. ‘What’s wrong with you? How can you say all these horrible things?’

Percy started climbing the stairs, pushing Ron aside and stepping over Ginny, furiously struggling past Fred and George who immediately made their bodies as big and awkward and gangling as they could imagine, shouting colourful insults at him as he pushed past and thundered up to his room.

‘He just needs to calm down,’ Mum was squeaking. ‘Go - go to your rooms, let me and Dad talk to him-’

‘No chance!’

‘I haven’t said my piece yet!’

He returned just a few moments later, carrying a bulging bag with a jumper sleeve trailing out, a little line of abandoned socks and a pair of underwear left on the stairs. ‘I’m going to stay with friends,’ he said.

‘You haven't got any,’ goaded George.

‘Be quiet, George!’ Mum wailed. ‘Percy-’

‘Then I’m getting my own place, I’m not staying here anymore - I’m not letting you all drag me down with you. If you’re all going to be traitors to the Ministry I’m going to make sure everyone’s well aware that I don’t belong to this family any more-’

‘You do, Percy, you do - you’ll always be my son-’ Mum’s words were barely audible beneath her crying. Percy pushed past her, and stormed towards the door.

‘Percy!’ Ron shouted, and to his surprise, Percy turned and looked at him.

Ron could not find the words for his contempt, could not find an insult strong enough, could not decide what to do with the rage that was coursing through him. All he could hope was that Percy could feel it in his cold, hard stare. ‘How could you?’

Percy said nothing, simply looked back for a moment, and then turned his back and strode swiftly to the door. Mum was running after him, and though they heard the ear-splitting crack of disapparation, she stood in the doorway shouting his name.

Dad had not followed, and with a creak, Ginny rose beside Ron and descended the last few stairs. She peered through the doorway to the kitchen. ‘Dad?’

Ron heard a splutter, and then dry, heaving sobs. Ginny vanished into the kitchen. Behind him, Fred and George were muttering mutinously, swearing and cursing.

‘What’s he playing at?’

‘He’s an idiot. A big-headed, pompous, ridiculous idiot, we’ve always said it, we were right.’

‘Who does he think he is? Does he really think that promotion is normal? Does he honestly think he’s that extraordinary?’

‘Moron…’

Ron’s jaw was aching from gritting his teeth so hard, his heart was trying to break through his ribcage and go after Percy to beat him.

‘Do you really think he meant that stuff he said to Dad?’ George said. ‘It’s just…’

‘I bet he does, the git,’ said Fred. ‘I bet he really does pretend he’s not part of the family. He’s ashamed of us. Slimy, brown-nosing prick…’

‘All that stuff about poverty? So uncalled for.’

‘That’s it, really, isn’t it? He’s a greedy arsehole.’

‘Well, he’s certainly written himself out of the will now, hasn’t he?’

‘He won’t care, nothing for him to inherit anyway, apparently.’

That prickling, heated anger was back - his very ears were hot with it, he wouldn’t be surprised if steam had been bursting out of them. The memory of Harry, pale and shaken in the hospital wing, his hands gripping Mum’s robes as she hugged him, was lingering in his mind. ‘Did you hear all that crap about Harry? Did you hear what he was saying about him? Harry!’

‘Yeah,’ muttered George. ‘Pillock.’

‘Why would he say that? What the bloody hell is going on with him? He’s gone bonkers. When did he turn into such a - a -’ He still could not quite find a word strong enough.

‘Berk?’ suggested George.

‘Something along those lines…’

‘Easier than admitting he’s horrible, selfish, idiot snob, I suppose,’ said Fred.

‘Money’s always been an issue, but blaming Dad like that is just…’

‘Nasty,’ said Ron, simply.

‘You can make money without completely selling out and betraying your family,’ said Fred seriously. ‘You can do it and keep your integrity.’

‘He’s acting like we weren’t fed enough,’ said George spitefully. ‘Percy didn’t even get that many hand-me-downs, really - Mum and Dad were doing all right before they were hit with twins, and we all know Ginny was probably unexpected.’

‘Was she?’ said Ron distractedly.

‘Are you joking, you were only about eight months old, who picks then to decide to have another baby?’

‘Mum.’

‘Fair.’

‘Anyway,’ said Fred, ‘Percy’s not exactly been hard done by, not really. He’s just always been ashamed we’re not as well-heeled as his smarmy new colleagues at the Ministry.’

‘It’s childish,’ said Ron, who was feeling another lurch of guilt as he thought back on the previous year. ‘It’s really petty…’

‘We’ve all wished the family was better off now and then,’ said George fairly. ‘Who wouldn’t? But that was a seriously low blow. God, poor Dad,' he added, his voice lowering further. 'I'm glad Ginny's gone in to comfort him, I don't even know where to begin.'

‘Do you think he’s really gone for good?’ asked Ron.

‘Hope so,’ said Fred viciously. ‘Hey - one less mouth to feed now, maybe the family’ll be better off.’

'You know what else,' Ron said sharply, his brain whirring, 'did you hear him dodging Dad's question about what he's said about Harry? Good thing he's buggered off before we go to the Order Headquarters, isn't it? Who knows what he would have blabbered about?'

Fred was looking at him as though in a new light. 'You know what, Ronniekins, that is a really excellent and disturbing point. You're a bit of a bright spark at times, aren't you?'

'Brighter than Percy,' Ron muttered.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #submission #tw: mild language

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trashlie · 3 years

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ILY FP 172

Getting to this one a lot faster than last week, ayyyyy shout out to meeeee and ending my day early at work! Cannot wait til this one is available to all, but until then, we’re going under a read more!

I have to say, the pacing of this entire arc has been SO GOOD. The way leading up to 170 was just this build up of anxiety every week, each episode harder for me to read because he KNEW what Nol was getting up to, to the climax of 170, to now the fantastic comical tones of these episodes following. It really harkens back to the early episodes, with quim’s special brand of humor back in full force.

Not part of the comical hijinks, of course Rand and Yui’s entire conversation gave me a lot of unease on Rand and Kousuke’s behalf. Behind closed doors, Yui definitely is not putting on an act - not for Rand, at any rate. Look how often her eyes are open in these scenes! She is deadset on talking to Rand about the things she’s seen and heard (perhaps she’s becoming aware that Rand is up to something with Yujing?) but Rand, on the other hand, is the only one of them concerned about how uncharacteristically Kousuke is behaving by not answering his calls. To his credit, Rand legit seems concerned - he’s not angry or whatever Kousuke is afraid of but just concerned about his son.

Yui, though, doesn’t seem concerned and this is where it’s like, really weird for me? Because Yui goes on to imply how good it is to see Kousuke with a mind of his own and.... not being mindlessly obedient to his tyrannical father. Which is uh. Weird? Have we ever seen Rand act as a tyrant to Kousuke? Certainly with Nol but isn’t this an interesting phrasing? In fact, I think the fact that it’s bolded makes it an even more interesting choice. Is this a case of Yui twisting a situation? She does have a tendency to do this a lot, say things that are not exactly true, as she sees it. Is she trying to make Rand feel guily, that if Kousuke IS acting up, it IS his fault, even though maybe it’s not? It does feel like she’s kind of tweaking the situation, right? Have we been wrong the whole time and Rand has been worse than we’ve seen? (I’m not convinced of this tbh.) I do feel like this is a case of Yui deliberately trying to get inside Rand’s head, the way she’s done with Nol in the past.

I love that Rand pointedly says he’s worried about his son and “shouldn’t you be too” Yui? Because... isn’t that weirdly suspicious? That she’s just absolutely not concerned that Kousuke is acting INCREDIBLY uncharacteristically? She, more than anyone, should know that Kousuke’s fear of disappointing Rand is so great, because SHE is the one who cultivated and fostered it. And knowing that Nol is acting out, too.... is she just straight up unconcerned? Is she truly a psychopath with no emotional concern? lol One day I want to write a post talking about Yui because I’m just not convinced Yui is “simply” a scorned lover. There’s also been a longstanding theory that Yui doesn’t... really.... care that much about Kousuke. That he’s always been a puppet to her that he’s her means of power and control in the family business, where she’s unable to do it via Rand. And this really supports that theory. I’m not saying it PROVES it or anything, but I do think it lends a lot of possibility to it, because she has more important things at play right now. Otherwise, why isn’t she concerned that Kousuke is NOT behaving like himself?

In that same vein, the first time she shows any reaction is when they overhear people talking about someone jumping off a balcony, and the moment Kousuke is name dropped, she finally shows a reaction - but BOY Rand’s reaction! (That is SUCH a Nol expression it KILLS me. The resemblance between them in this episode is STRONG.)

I can’t believe just the other day I was ranting about Rand and how I can never figure this man out and how much he FRUSTRATES ME and and I want to fight him only to find him holding Nol’s scarf, looking upon it with... what. Regret? In reflection? To me, he seems to show some kind of concern, like seeing Nol’s scarf, knowing he ended up in the pool FROM A BALCONY.... do you think he’s fearing dark things, too? Do you think he’s reflecting on the way he’s treated Nol knowing that he definitely at fault for the state Nol’s been in? Maybe Rand is finally starting to see that he was NOT in fact able to protect Nol, that he’s worse off than he could have been if Rand had parented him. Like, dude really left his son for the elements (aka Yui) and reinforced the feeling that he is worthless and a mistake. I wonder if he’s finally starting to acknowledging he has failed both of his sons spectacularly?

And then on the flipside, you have Yui. That conversation she has with the security guard, the AUDACITY to ask if he dragged anyone down with him?! Like, I know she’s concerned that he brought Kousuke down with him but wow wtf! I’m guessing in her mind she was wondering if they were fighting and a tumble happened, and instead finding that no, it was Nol acting completely out of control. Indeed, Yui, too, wonders “who is raising these kids.” The way she looks right at Rand, eyes open like that.

Yui is so big mad about Rand and Nol. She is beyond upset that Nol is now beyond her control and that Rand is doing nothing to reign him back in (and bring him back to her control). HEW boy that’s scary. Legit getting worried for Nol.

I almost feel sorry for laughing, but Kousuke stressed to death and losing his mind is, unfortunately, my favorite version of Kousuke LMAO. Dude canNOT handle stress, okay? And again, I think this is something we WILL seee in the future as he takes up his CFO position. Kousuke BUCKLES under stress, he folds under pressure. In this case, it’s at least comical, because what is Kousuke’s logic here? If this were anything else, I’d say this is just a convoluted plot to get Nol to the party but this is just Kousuke bless him. Can’t bring him to his place because Nol will... ruin it? lol Can’t send him home with Hansuke cos he doesn’t trust Hansuke. Can’t leave Hansuke to babysit Nol because father is expecting BOTH of them. No one has considered (out loud) bringing him to Nana?

I THINK he’s using Shinae’s party as a scapegoat, maybe (Nol had a schedule conflict? lol) and because he did promise Shinae he’d try to get Nol to the party? And this feels flimsy but I’m trying okay. Because I can’t imagine Kousuke is going to show up WITHOUT Nol - because he made a demonstration that he has no interest in attending the party and it was only when he said he’d try to bring Nol that Shinae seemed to care. So, if he showed up, would she be disappointed that he came without Nol? Rather, would she just be confused?

What’s he going to do, bring him and leave him in the car? I can’t imagine THAT because it’s cold, and why would HE attend the party but leave Yujing and or Hansuke in the car with Nol. Again, Kousuke didn’t want to leave Nol under someone else’s care because Kousuke feels like HE’S expected to watch Nol and keep him under control. If he wasn’t willing to leave him with Hansuke, why would he go to a party and leave him with Hansuke and/or Yujing.

I feel like Yujing has big regrets for having stopped to talk to the cousins because I cannot imagine she was expecting THIS lmao. I can’t believe (except no i can lol) they’re CARTING NOL AROUND ON A LUGGAGE TROLLY LMAO like he’s a dead body they’re trying to hide - the way Kousuke is TALKING like this is some dark comedy and he’s got a body to hide LMAO. I’m still laughing at Kousuke’s “Yujing I have to ask you for a big favor” BECAUSE WHATEVER HE’S ABOUT TO ASK IS BEYOND A FAVOR and I just know Yujing is going to get involved LMAO and she’s probably SO FULL OF REGRETS. Like. I haven’t gotten over her reaction to pulling back the cloth and finding Nol just... undressed and passed out. (I know some people have wondered if it reminds her of her friend’s incident but the way she reacts seems less that and more concerned that Kousuke did something to knock Nol out?)

But Yujing’s expression through this entire conversation is just like :||| the whole time and god you can tell she’s full of regrets.

Anyway. What an episode huh.

Other questions plaguing me: WHEN is this party supposed to start? It’s probably near 9 p.m. by the time Kousuke shows up and Shinae and Minhyuk still aren’t there? Why was Shinae calling him? If it was to say she’s running late or ask if he’s going or to check if he’s able to bring Nol, wouldn’t that be giving it away? I guess if Minhyuk went to go do something/buy something/use the bathroom it’s a quick moment for her? You’d think texting would be more convenient but? What do I know! The timeline of this whole thing is really interesting - and I find it funny because so many people were so sure Nol wouldn’t be able to make it to the party at all because it would likely be over but sike this thing has yet to begin! lmao (I kept saying I kept thinking if he DID show up it’d be at the end but HERE WE ARE HUH.)

More questions: if they are bringing Nol inside.... are they just haulting him into the Park house? Wrapping him in a sheet? Shoving him in a room to wait for him to sober up? WHAT IS KOUSUKE THINKING? WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN?

lmao idk i’m really excited for next week, tbh, and the chaos that is going to ensue. The parents are going to be extremely wtf. Maya and Kousuke coming face to face since she FLYING KICKED HIM? lmao LISTEN. i am ready for this.

#I Love Yoo #ILY FP #ILY Spoilers #ILY Brainrot #Nol #Yeonggi #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #Kousuke Hirahara #Hansuke Hirahara #Yujing #Rand #I need a Rand tag lol #Yui Hirahara

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

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Pseudo Princess Pt.35

Sacrifices to Save the World

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 9,582

Warnings: smut, LOTS of fluff, angst

A/N: (THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! One more to go!) Here it is everyone! The moment I have been waiting for. I can’t really say much and I don’t want to give anything away so, I’ll just let the chapter speak for itself. I also want to say that I’m sorry that I haven’t been as diligent about responding to comments. Trust me when I say that I read and reread them often! I appreciate your thoughts and reactions so much. As always, if you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work!

Tags are closed!

Please DO NOT repost my stories. Reblogs are MOST welcome!

You bustle around the cottage sweeping cat hair and dust, mixing the white of the chalk dust with the crimson blood of Grandmother’s sacrificial cat.

Your attempts to tidy the space is wasted as you’re only making it worse, but rather than focus on her words you prefer to clean.

She watches you from the seat at her table where you placed her. A cup of water gripped in her withered hand, still trembling slightly.

“Stop cleaning, girl!” Grandmother chides, watching you with annoyance as you stop amongst the mess on her floor and throw your hands out to your sides in a clear indication of not understanding.

“What would you have me do?” You ask her, voice tight with distress. “You tell me that my husband will fight to his death and I am supposed to what? Dance?”

“Just sit down.” She points at the seat across from her, her finger crooked and weak.

You drop the broom where you stand and plop yourself down on the indicated seat while ignoring the creak of the weathered wood. The old woman would resist new furnishings though you’d managed to sneak in a new bed and kitchenware.

“You killed your cat.” You tell her, as if she doesn’t know.

“Yes.” She agrees and lifts the small cup to her lips to take a drink.

“Why?”

“I had to see.” She explains. “Something was…was there.”

“When I found you outside Steve’s office?” You check, though you know her answer.

“Yes.” With a sigh she captures your gaze and does not release it. “I have sensed a darkness growing in the world. Something elusive. Hidden. It has kept its face secret, behind that of puppets. It uses others to do its bidding and until today I had no idea what that bidding was.

“He is gathering six relics. Stones. Rich in magic properties. Richer than any other relics I have ever come across. Each of them with powers more terrifying than the last.”

“What kind of powers?” You ask her, voice feeble and wispy.

“Powers to control time. Power to manipulate the mind and the very fabric of space and reality.” She warns. “Powers to rule the world…or wipe it from existence.”

Your heart grows cold, slipping into the pit of your stomach as you picture Steve in his armor standing before such massive power. What could your warrior husband do in the face of such might?

“Who is he?” You ask her, eager to put a face to the threat.

“I don’t know.” She says, looking down at the necklace that always rests around your neck. The locket that is Steve’s insignia, with his picture along with your parents. “I cannot see his face. I can only feel him. He is stronger than the king. Stronger than many of those who fight here. Together they may defeat him, but I did not see them together. I saw only your husband, the bodies of those you love surrounded him, and he fell too.”

You get up, unwilling to let her convince you despite you having already accepted her words. “I cannot listen to this.”

“You must, girl. You must take heed of what I tell you and prepare yourself for what is to come. Take your daughter and go as far away from here as possible but even that may not save you.” She adds as an afterthought. “I feel this evil plans for more than death. He has such a will.”

Turning to her you consider her thoughtful expression and the way she seems lost to her vision. She believes it with every fiber of her being and your own heart is swayed into panic as you throw yourself onto your knees at her feet.

Gripping the hand she has resting on her lap, you raise it to your breast and hold it there to where your heart is pounding.

“There must be something you can do. Something that will save him.” You reason, pleading for her to see reason as if she held the very fate of Steve within her old hands. “Won’t you try?”

“I cannot.” She shakes her head. “Such magics are forbidden. I am no dark witch.”

Her insistence is fractured, her own eyes betray her as she eyes you up and then turns away.

Her fondness is clear. You know that she loves you despite the way she speaks to you at times. She has fought hard for your happiness. If you would beg for her life, you think she might give it up.

“Is there no way? Nothing? Surely there is a chance to change things without resorting to dark magics? Please, Grandmother…” Before you know what’s happening, you’re crying.

Tears flow freely across your cheeks but your voice is strong in the only way that it can be when you’re pleading for your husband’s life.

“I cannot live in a world where my husband is not alive. Please…help me. Help me save him. There must be a way. There must be…please. We just had our daughter…” You lay your head in her lap, overcome with fear at this future she’s seen. “Please.”

Her silence is heavy. You can feel her thinking, can feel her mind searching for a way to give you what you want.

You have always loved this old woman but until today, you had not considered how much she might truly love you as one would a true granddaughter.

“Give me time.” She sighs.

“You’ll try?!” You gasp, your heart soaring.

With an elated sob you drop your head onto her lap and with gentle, feeble hands, she strokes the back of your head.

“I will think on it. I will try. I cannot make any promises.” She warns you, reaching under your chin to draw your gaze up. “What you ask for will not be easy. Is he worth it?”

You blink, confused by her question because in your mind there is absolutely no doubt.

“He’s worth more. He’s worth everything.” You nod. “I love him.”

Grandmother’s gaze withers and she releases you, nudging you away.

“Go. Be with your husband and child. Let me ponder.” She orders and slowly you rise.

You’re so stunned you have to keep a hand on the table as you rise to keep your knees buckling.

“When will you know?” You ask her, sniffling from the tears you shed.

“Go.” She orders again, staring at the hem of your dress. “And change your dress. You’re covered in blood.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Standing still, you hold tight to the lower left post of your bed as your corset is laced again.

The copper tub by the roaring fire in your bedroom sits lukewarm, full pink and wine-colored peony blooms floating within its oiled surface.

“Why was there blood on your dress?” Natasha wonders, tugging tight on your laces making you gasp.

“It’s not important.” You tell her, then think better of keeping her completely in the dark. “There was a dead cat on the way to Grandmother’s and I didn’t realize it until I came upon it.”

Fuck, was that believable? Does she trust you enough to accept your words without doubt?

“You’re keeping something from me.” She counters, frowning as she ties the corset closed.

Apparently not.

“I’m not.” You argue, but after her silence pierces your soul, you sigh. “I’m worried.”

“About Hydra?” She asks, supplying you with an appropriate alternative to the truth.

“Of course.” You grasp onto this straw and lean your stress onto this very real threat. “The last time I was within their vicinity someone tried to kill me and Maggie.”

“That won’t happen again.” Natasha assures you, moving towards you with a long ivory gown. The slightly yellowish tinge to the flowing fabric is pretty, though you note this in the back of your head. You’re too preoccupied with the threats looming overhead to notice how pretty the dress is. “I should have stayed with you.”

“It wasn’t your fault Nat. Pierce knew what he was doing. He’d been to father’s many times and he knew that I’d be in that part of the castle. He knew that you’d all be focused elsewhere. He was going to find a way to me one way or another.” You reason, but you know that if Peter or Nat had been there with you, there would have been a better chance of getting away with greater speed.

“I will never leave your side again.” Nat declares passionately but you huff a laugh and turn to look at her as she gathers up the skirt of your dress, hooking her arms through it to make ready for you to wear.

“Nat,” You smile. “I love you, and maybe you’re right and things would have been better if you or someone else had been by my side that night. But you cannot be beside me always. You’re a wife now. And even if you cannot be a mother naturally, there are many other ways to have children.”

Nat drops her arms, watching you with a concerned and furrowed brow. She’s clearly focused on you and not herself. You want to remedy that quickly. You love her, how can you allow her to only ever let you be her concern?

“You two must have discussed it?” You prompt, knowing that Bucky would not give up on giving Nat what she most desperately desires. “I know you want to be a mother. You love children.”

She seems to realize that you are not about to let this drop, so she sighs, relaxing a bit.

“I have thought about it.” She nods. “And yes, I do love children but I’m not sure if it’s right for me with the life that Bucky and I lead.”

Your heart aches suddenly, a renewal of Grandmother’s words reminding you that your daughter could lose her father. She so damn right about that.

“I don’t blame you.” You nod, sitting yourself on the end of the bed. “This life that all of you have chosen is one most unwelcome to the traditional family. But it is possible. Father and Mother have Morgana, Lord and Lady Lang have their daughter. Steve and I now have Margaret.

“It may not be ideal, certainly. But possible.” You offer in encouragement.

You don’t want her to give up. You want her to be happy.

Nat looks down at your stocking covered feet and nods.

“You don’t have to. Of course, it is entirely your choice and Bucky’s. I’m not trying to say that you should have children. But if you should you choose to have them, it is possible to live both lives.” You really hope that you’re not putting any pressure on her to raise a child when she might not want to.

Natasha’s inability to have children naturally should not be a hindrance on her desire to be a mother if she should decide to try. There are thousands of children in orphanages across the Kingdoms that would benefit greatly from a loving home that you know Bucky and Nat would provide effortlessly.

At the end of the day however, you know it is their choice.

“I appreciate your support.” Nat admits, gathering your skirts again and then holding them open for you to put your head through. “Truly. It means so much to me that you think I could do a good job. As a mother.”

You stand and stick your head through the dress and begin to pull your arms through the large puffed sleeves as Natasha straightens your skirt.

The neckline is ruffled, heart shaped, and low. The sleeves are also ruffled, small cinches that wrap around your arm mid-bicep leaving your shoulders and neckline exposed. Nat turns you and quickly laces up the back of the dress. She pulls it tight so that there is no chance of it slipping down.

“Isn’t this a little-?”

“You look beautiful.” Natasha smiles, fixing a long pink sash around your waist that she ties into a long loose bow above the curve of your bum. “Shall I braid your hair again?”

Natasha’s hands work fast, her fingers nimble and familiar with your hair’s texture and flow. The skirt is so long and flowing that you wonder if something special has been planned for you to attend as you feel that despite the somewhat casual look of the dress, it also doubles as pretty in that formal sense.

Your fingers find the embroidered pink and white peonies on the bodice that decorate your breast.

“Am I seeing someone special today?” You ask.

“No.” Natasha smiles. “Just us. Lunch is being served in the garden for you, Margaret, and Steve. Bucky and I shall be nearby. Peter will be close too. No one special.”

You huff a laugh as she lists all of the most precious people in your life. “So, only those special to me then?”

Nat chuckles and finishing tying off your hair.

“Lunch is for you, Steve, and Maggie. Steve expressed a wish to spend some quiet time alone with the two of you. He knows he’s been busy the past few weeks racing about chasing leads on this new Hydra weapon. He wants to make it up to you and I know he’d appreciate you in this dress.”

Her explanation makes sense but you’re successfully distracted from the dress by the mention of Hydra.

“How was the search?” You suddenly wonder, remembering Steve’s orders for her and Bucky.

“We’ve spread the word and will go out again tonight to search. I’ll tell you if anyone is found.”

“I’d like to know what’s happening with this.” You turn to her, adjusting within her grip as she reaches down to fuss with your dress. “I need to know, Nat. I can’t be kept in the dark again.”

Natasha drops her hands, placing them on her hips as she considers the look in your eyes.

“You’re not saying something.” She realizes. “What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing.” You say quickly, a shrug thrown her way just to brush off the concern. “I just don’t want any surprises. Not like before. This threat seems insignificant but what if there’s more to this mysterious weapon? I want to know what you’re all walking into.”

“Steve has promised to keep you appraised.” Nat promises you. “I will hold him to his word.”

Slowly, as the truth of her words shines through her eyes, a small smile stretches your lips.

“Thanks, Nat.”

~~~~~~~~~~

As you approach your renovated pavilion, peony blossoms blooming all around in varying shades of pink, you adjust Maggie in your arms.

You’re careful with your own dress. Double-checking the top of your bodice to make sure for the tenth time that you are covered after feeding your daughter. Nat made sure it was tight again but you’re fretting is ceaseless as a mother now.

The corset you’re wearing made especially for you since you are nursing, makes it easy for you to feed her without much fuss. Steve seems to favor it too though you’ve told him to be gentle and he’s avoided enjoying your breasts while you’re focused on raising your little one.

Aside from a loving caress and gentle butterfly kisses when the two of you make love, he’s avoided touching them.

Reaching the stairs, you fix your daughter’s dress—changed to match yours with endless ruffles but the same peony embroidery pattern on her little chest and pink sash around her little waist.

Steve rises quickly, rushing towards you with his arms extended.

Maggie coos excitedly, her little high-pitched squeaks and goos nearly make you swoon as she kicks her little legs excitedly. She’s not exactly screaming yet, but her noises are long and eager.

“There’s my princess.” Steve says proudly, his eyes flooding with love as he takes her into his large arms and kisses her chubby cheek.

He turns her to sit with her little back pressed against his chest and smiles at you while your own eyes are glued to your daughter.

“And my beautiful Queen.” He gushes, pulling your attention away from Maggie as he leans down slowly until he meets your lips with a long slow peck. “How are you?”

His voice is soft and deep. “I’m very well.”

It’s almost a lie.

In this moment, here with Steve and Maggie, you are most definitely well. You’re happy and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Your heart still weighs a ton with Grandmother’s news.

For a terrible moment as Steve walks away from you to sit down with Maggie on his lap, you remember her words and your knees almost buckle.

With him focused on the little one, you manage to sit yourself down before he can notice.

Rapid footsteps climb the stairs behind you. You turn to find Peter moving in to stand beside you both. He smiles excitedly as he watches Maggie. He, like everyone else in the castle, is head over heels for her.

No one draws a smile quicker than Maggie, even from the gentry that had so readily spread rumors about you.

This makes you happy. Your daughter accepted.

“Cook will be out with your meals shortly, your Majesties.” He informs you both.

“Won’t you join us?” You ask him, but Peter meets Steve’s eyes for a moment then reaches up to scratch behind his head, his cheeks flushing pink.

Clearly Steve had made it clear that he wanted to spend time with you and Maggie alone to more than just Nat. However, there’s something else in that rosy tint in Peter’s cheeks.

“I…I’m actually meeting Morgana in the libraries to help her with her studies. I will cancel with her if you wish me to stay?” He offers, though you see the disappointment in his eyes.

“No.” You hurry to assure him. “No, we’re fine. I just wanted to be sure you ate.”

“Thank you, your Majesty. I believe Cook is sending sandwiches to the library for us.” Peter bows and with an excitement in his step you watch him until he’s out of sight.

“They make a good match.” You smile, turning to take a sip of water from the silver goblet before you.

“Who?” Steve asks, confused. He bounces his leg to keep Maggie occupied while allowing her to hold his finger in her tight tiny fist. She drags it to her mouth and bites it with her gums, yet Steve doesn’t seem to notice.

“Peter and Morgana.”

“Peter and your sister?” Steve asks in shock. “But…she’s so young.”

“She’s fifteen, going on sixteen.” You remind him. “If they are engaged this year that will still leave them with two years of courtship before they’re married. That is the custom in Malibia.

She’ll be eighteen by then and Peter will be twenty-four. Some people would say those are two ages perfect for marrying.”

Despite the pleasant picture you paint, Steve’s frown only grows.

“What?” You chuckle, reaching into your skirts to find the pocket where you’d placed a few small towels for Maggie’s constant drooling.

You offer Steve the towel but he’s still frowning? No…he’s pouting! You get up and move around to wipe her chin before placing the towel in Steve’s hand.

“Why are you pouting?”

“I’m not pouting.” Steve grumbles.

It makes you laugh again. “Steve…”

“Maggie will not be getting engaged until she’s at least twenty.” He suddenly declares. “I’ll lock her up in the West tower until she’s that age and only then will I allow her to entertain the idea of a suitor.”

“Are you worried that you’ll only have her for sixteen years?” You chuckle, watching the worry in his eyes as he cradles Maggie closer, stroking her rounded cheeks with gentle thumbs.

“She’s mine right now.” Steve laments, looking down at her as she continues to chew on his finger. “I don’t want to part with her. I’ve waited so long for her for some boy to come take her from me.”

“Oh, my darling.” You chuckle but this time with full sympathy for his heartbreak. “We will have lots of time with her. And even after she marries, she will always be our daughter.”

Steve’s eyes are glued to her little face and he completely doesn’t notice Cook come up to serve your meal. A few roast chickens with potatoes and carrots.

You eat in silence but quickly. Enjoying the sight of him growing more and more enamored with your daughter. Steve doesn’t seem to notice the time slip by as he distracts her with the towel you’d handed him.

She chatters about nothing in her baby speak, drawing smiles and chuckles from your husband.

Finally, you eat your last carrot and slide your chair back.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, rising to your feet knowing you have no reason to be sorry. He’s so in love with her. Luckily, you’ve still managed to eat fast enough that the food is still warm for him. “I should hire a maid to watch her when we eat.”

It’s true that you’ll eventually need to hire someone to take care of her when you must deal with kingdom affairs too. You’re so reluctant to let someone else care for her. Just as Steve claims her passionately, you feel just as he does. She’s yours.

“Not yet.” Steve counters, letting you take her from him. He adjusts in his chair, wipes his hand then proceeds to eat, stealing glances at both of you as you move towards the benches that line the inner edge of the pavilion.

Everything is so perfect. So lovely.

You’re almost content in this moment, with your little girl in your arms and Steve sharing a meal with you. You’re very nearly happy until you look at him and like a raging storm Grandmother’s words destroy your fragile peace once more.

Steve is going to die.

He turns to you and smiles. He smiles at Maggie. He confesses his love for you both with it pouring from his eyes and while your heart aches, you vow to do anything to stop this new threat from taking him away.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come to bed.” Steve pleads.

You glance at him through your looking glass, a hazy image because of the distance from your small table to the bed. The silver is in need of polishing or perhaps replacing. You don’t dare speak this thought aloud though.

Knowing Steve, he’d simply buy you a wall full of mirrors and you can’t have that.

Even blurry he’s a vision, an absolute fucking sight to behold with your daughter at the center of your bed his fingers tickling her tummy as she kicks her little legs excitedly. Her little hands absentmindedly stroking his arm.

He’s on his side, shirtless. His lower body hidden beneath the sheets of your bed as he lays naked underneath.

Despite that delectable fact, your eyes are glued to his gentle smile as he takes his hand and gently strokes the length of Maggie’s little nose. He’s noticed how that lulls her to sleep and does it to her every night to send her off when he’s not busy in meetings.

You finish tending to your hair, braiding it back once again to keep out of the way for your little one. When you turn in your seat to look at them, you find Maggie’s movements slowed. Her eyes are closing, little rosebud lips left open slightly.

She’s already fed and content. Your happy baby, so protected and cherished.

Despite his attentions to your daughter that you’ve spent the last ten minutes watching, when you look at him you find Steve’s eyes on you.

“Come to bed.” He urges you, a small twinkle of desire hidden in the tranquility of these moments he spends with Maggie but stares at you.

“Are you trying for a second?” You ask him, teasing as you rise and move to the bed. You know that look well by now.

Steve’s expression suddenly shift, concern etched across his face.

“Am I rushing you?” He asks, reaching for you as you kneel on the bed and gather your nightdress up so as not to trip on it. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s thinking of this morning, already having had you in his den.

Since you’d given birth, he’s been so careful with you. Even when you’d assured him you were ready to be intimate with him again, he’d hesitated. Worried about hurting you or rushing your body into doing things you should not be doing.

Your smile only grows, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you settle in on Maggie’s right. She doesn’t even stir. Steve’s hand remains around your forearm, fingers gently caressing your skin.

“Why do you laugh?” He asks, his mouth perking at the corners despite his worry.

“You are not like any man I’ve ever met or heard of.” You confess. “Some of the women in Bright Rise, when they still spoke with me, would tell me about their husbands. They were like you were at the beginning of our marriage. Worse, as they took without care for their wives’ wishes. Some of them were always pregnant now that I think about it. Always trailed by a line of toddlers and children.

“The men didn’t care about their wives’ bodies or how their need to satiate their hungers affected the other.” You shake your head. “Some of the women even confessed to me that they took on lovers to find the enjoyment in fucking again.”

“Something you would have been forced to do had I continued in my foolish ways.” Steve suggests, unphased by your still somewhat rural tongue.

“Maybe…in the future. It would have taken me years of neglect to get to that point.” You nod, “Even with Thor, his touch was…unwelcome. He didn’t force me, but I did not feel right accepting his affections. I’m married. Even unhappy that wasn’t something I took lightly.”

Steve’s hand moves up to the top of your arm then slowly he drags it down to your wrist.

“Were you always this considerate? I mean, before me?” You wonder, looking deep into his storm blue eyes. “Say with Margaret? Or, perhaps the other women you were with before we married?”

Steve turns, laying himself on his back.

He releases your arm and gently strokes the length of his chest, fingers dancing across the tuft of blonde hair that rails all the way down below where the blanket ends at his waist. His other hand he shoves underneath his head as he thinks.

You wait patiently for him to be ready to speak. You’ve never asked him about his habits with other women in bed.

He steals several quick looks your way which tells you he’s nervous about answering you. Wary, in case it should prompt a fight. You can see the moment he decides to give in. His lips part a little, they stutter, then he speaks.

“Margaret was strong.” He states plainly, as if that explains it all.

You wait.

“Not that you aren’t!” He rushes to say, sitting up as gently as he can to keep from waking your daughter.

Maggie still stirs and whimpers. You place your hand on her chest and soothe her until she stills again.

“Can you put her in her bed?” You begin to sit up too, ready to do it yourself but Steve is faster, rushing so that you won’t have to.

“Of course! I’ll get her.” He gently scoops her up into his arms then quickly moves around to your side of the bed as you follow them with your eyes, turning your body as they go.

Gently he places her in her crib and tucks her in, shushing and soothing her as she complains then goes silent once more.

She isn’t too close, but you can still see her from your spot on the bed. Steve double checks by looking at you to see if you can still see her.

When he’s satisfied that you can, he moves back to you, crawling over you and stopping to give the tip of your nose a kiss as he goes before plopping himself down on his side once again. This time he reaches for you, grabby hands tracing the shape of your curves as he pulls you a little closer.

“What I meant, is that Margaret was willful. She knew what she wanted, and she made certain that everyone else knew so too.” He clears his throat, suddenly nervous again. “In bed, she was just as certain of herself.

“Even though I made the first move, she was the one who took charge in our physical relationship. I knew that if something were to go wrong or if she was tired or too ill to be with me intimately, she would tell me.”

You listen without judgement and try to keep your face clear of all emotions other than the love you have for him. Even through this conversation, your heart pounds with dread as it repeats Grandmother’s words over and over, reminding you that every moment with Steve is precious.

“I never had to worry about Margaret’s body because she never had to compromise it for me. I did worry for her, but not in the same way.” Steve says, probably thinking about the risks that Margaret would have taken as part of the Avengers.

“And the other women?” You wonder.

“There weren’t many.” Steve assures you, looking down at your chest in embarrassment. “Only two.”

“You were grieving Margaret.” You nod, understanding. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t a man.”

Steve is silent for a moment, resting his head in his hand as he uses his elbow to prop himself up. With his other hand he traces nervous circles in the blanket between you.

“They were visiting ladies. Ladies who, like Margaret, knew what they wanted.” Steve sighs the lunges softly towards you, pushing you onto your back so suddenly it makes you gasp and then laugh.

As he settles his body halfway over yours, he smiles down at you.

His hands caress the sides of your face before he trails one hand along your sides, grabbing you with intent. You can feel the desire in his touch.

“Court ladies are all playing a game. It’s a language they speak that you don’t know.” Steve sighs heavily. “A set of rules that I’m glad you do not understand. You are nothing like them and I love you for it.”

“They had husbands?” You realize.

“Yes.” Steve nods. “Men who are too distracted by their own infidelities or too busy grasping at power to pay their wives any mind. With both of them it was only one night. It came and went so quickly I can barely remember them. I don’t even think I could tell you their names.”

His face grows solemn, sad as if remembering a painful memory that has since lost its sting but not the emotion of sorrow. “I didn’t enjoy myself. I was driven by lust, but I didn’t even…I made sure they were satisfied and left it at that.”

“Mm. You felt guilty.” You nod, understanding as you watch his full lips. The lower is so much bigger than the upper. You reach up and trace it, loving the soft plumpness of it.

“Does it not make you jealous?” He wonders, relaxing more of his weight onto you. “Does it not upset you?”

You meet his eyes again, a smile stretched across your face. You can see that he wants to know you’re jealous. He wants to know that you want him as much as he wants you.

So much progress…is this truly the man you married?

“Only as much as it would upset any wife to hear her beloved husband talk about his past adventures in fucking other women.”

Steve groans and buries his face into the side of your neck, wrapping his arms around you as you also wrap yours around his shoulders. You chuckle, caressing the back of his head.

“So, the concern is not normal?” You realize, feeling better but also worried that you’re not seeing the real Steve. That maybe he’s acting this way with you while acting a completely different way with everyone else.

Is this not who he is?

“No, the concern is normal.” Steve says, muffled against your skin, making you feel almost instantly better.

He pulls back to look down at you again.

“What I’m saying is that every woman that I have been with until you has never given me cause to be concerned. I didn’t hurt them the way I hurt you.” He frowns. “I didn’t take what they weren’t willing to give.”

You look away this time, the solemnity coming from you now. The shift of conversation making your heart ache. When you speak, your voice is quiet, subdued with the reminder of your wedding night.

“I wasn’t unwilling.” You correct him because you hadn’t been. Not that first night or any night after.

Your line was not one clearly drawn, certainly. You’d slept with him out of duty but that hadn’t meant you didn’t want to. He’s the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life. Of course, you’d wanted him.

You hadn’t told him no. You’d only told him to slow down. You know that for him, for Nat, for everyone who found out—that slow down had been enough. It should have been enough to stop him.

“You know what I mean.” Steve says, placing both his hands on the sides of your face to tilt your head back until you look at him. “I wounded you. I took something that was not mine to take.”

“But it was yours to take.” You correct him again, and he growls in his throat at you before shaking his head, the pain leaving his eyes to be replaced by admiration.

“I can still feel you, trembling and sobbing in my arms. I was disgusted with myself. I couldn’t believe that I could do that to anyone. And you were so…so kind and gentle. So eager to please and I took advantage of that.” Steve confesses. All of his thoughts spilling out of him like water. “I had turned this beautiful, sweet princess into a sobbing, fearful, and wounded creature. I was so consumed by my grief over Margaret and my anger at having to marry again when I wasn’t ready to do so that I wanted it over. In that moment, I didn’t care about the sweet woman beneath me.

“And even after I hurt you, when I came to see you, despite your fear your only concern was for the tears I shed.”

It takes a moment to find your voice, but you do. You swallow hard.

“I’d never seen a man cry.” You confess. “Much less a king.”

“I meant every tear.” Steve insists. “If I could take that night back, I would. If I could redo every night since, I would. I am concerned for you above anyone else, because in you I saw my darkest self and I never want to be that man for you again. I never want to hurt you.”

The two of you lapse into emotional but pleasant silence. Both hearts beating strongly against each other as his chest is pressed firmly against your own.

At last, you smile, a chuckle spilling from your lips as you reach up and tuck his hair behind his ear. It’s getting long again.

“Have you always made these long speeches? Or is that reserved for me as well?” You check, mostly just teasing.

Steve’s lips curl up, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I make sure to give every pretty woman I see a lengthy speech. Whether they’re enjoyable is a different matter.”

You bite your lip, glaring at him but only in jest. Quickly he dips down to kiss your lips, letting it linger for a moment before he pulls back only a bit so that when he speaks, his lips are fluttering against your own.

“My declarations of love, however, are entirely yours alone.” He whispers. “Tell me to stop and I will obey, my Queen.”

His right hand moves down, searching until it finds the hem of your nightdress which he begins to tug up until he finds the top of your leg. He traces the dip of flesh there, tickling your skin in search of your already yearning core.

As his fingers make contact, you gasp into his slightly open mouth and it draws his attention back up to your face. He licks your lips, just a gentle flick of the tip of his tongue before he kisses you, sinking it into your depths where you meet his eager kiss with your own.

You moan quietly, a whimper of yearning as his fingers spread your folds and begin to explore you. The noises his hand makes absolutely sinful.

Eager for his touch, you bring your knees up. You spread your legs for him, and he pulls out of the kiss to slide down along your body. He does down, down, down until he’s settled between your legs.

He grabs one and throws it over his left shoulder, then the other over his right. He kisses your thighs, trailing his tongue in small circles before every gentle pucker. The anticipation curls your toes as he moves closer and closer to your cunt.

“Steve…” You whisper, aware of the baby asleep in her crib and your need to keep quiet so that she can sleep.

He dives in, his tongue making one long swipe of your dripping core.

You gasp, curling up towards him as your body is sent into shivers.

He grabs hold of your thighs roughly, pulling you hard against his face. Opening his mouth, he suckles on your clit, the gentle sound of his sucking filling your limbs with fire.

As much as you enjoy his mouth where it is, there’s an impatience that wages war within you.

After months of waiting to enjoy sleeping with him, now that you do, it makes you eager to have him within you.

“Steve, please…” You beg, reaching down and tugging on his hair.

He likes that, growling a little at the lusty whisper that is your plea.

Pressing kisses along the length of your body while he shoves your nightdress up higher and higher, he finally helps you pull it off before taking your breasts within his mouth.

His lips are soft against them, gentle in their suckling as he knows how painful you can find it now.

When you whimper from the soreness, he steals a quick look at you to make sure you aren’t in too much pain before he simply kisses them around the nipple.

You run your hand over his hair, a promise that someday he’ll be able to enjoy your breasts again. He reads your reassurance but dismisses it as he rushes to meet your lips in a demanding kiss.

Without warning he pushes into you. He stretches you, filling you up so pleasantly that you throw your head back but swallow the moan you’d normally release.

Fuck…Your mind supplies, nails raking along the scarred flesh of his shoulders.

“Fuck…” Steve groans into your ear, stopping once he’s buried within you. Great minds think alike, you guess.

“Don’t stop.” You beg and wrap your left arm around his shoulders while the other reaches down as far as it can to grab as much of his bum as possible and pull him close.

He starts slowly, letting you both relish in the silky way his cock slides out of you then back in.

“Kiss me.” You tell him, needing his mouth to silence the moans you feel bound to make.

He obliges, roughly meeting your lips with a frenzied and lustful kiss as he loses himself within you.

He doesn’t pound into you the way he did at the cottage. He knows he shouldn’t, so he doesn’t. Even though you want it, you’re grateful for his forethought and instead focus on the way he seems to know which angles to adjust so that his cock not only pierces you but presses against the most sensitive spots inside of you.

He moves faster, reaching down to massage your clit as he kisses his way down your neck.

The moment is sudden, and it surprises you when your body goes tense for a moment as your climax washes over you.

You pull Steve down against you, gripping him hard as you hold him tight while your body is overcome.

Steve continues to push into you. Faster as he realizes that you’ve reached your limit. He grunts as he picks up speed, tracing the shape of your back down to your ass where he takes hold of it, fingers digging into the muscle.

He pulls up a little, searching for your lips with his own, tongue delving into your mouth as you give him what he wants. Both of you moan into each other, muffled and needy until Steve’s body stutters and his heat spills into you over and over.

He thrusts with each burst of ecstasy that overtakes him. His groans grow lazy. His body loose. Your own is already numb and you go still beneath him as he trails lazy kisses along the misty skin of your neck and shoulders.

He sighs, laying his head against your clavicle where he relaxes on top of you, your hands gently stroking his back.

You steal a glance at Maggie in her crib, but she’s sound asleep. It relaxes you to know she’s unbothered and without meaning to, you and Steve both fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

A loud thumping makes you twitch. It sounds distant but it startles you anyway.

In your arms, something large moves.

Your sleepy mind reminds you that it’s Steve and you sigh in your semi-sleep as your hands enjoy the feel of his hot body still resting on top of your own.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The thumping returns, this time louder and clearer.

A quiet whine to your right wakes you more quickly than the thumping and like you’ve been stunned with Thor’s lightning, you spring up from the bed, quickly sliding out from beneath Steve who also whines at your moving but peeks up at you as you rise.

“Whereyewgoin?” He asks, still mostly asleep.

“Go back to sleep.” You whisper to him from beside Maggie’s crib.

BOOM! BOOM-BOOM!

The thumping, which is actually a knocking on your door you realize, repeats.

Maggie whines again and you frown.

“Who’s there?” Steve asks towards the door, his voice more annoyed then upset.

“It’s Agatha, your Majesty.” One of the guards outside speaks.

“Don’t speak for me.” Grandmother’s voice grumbles.

“I’m sorry, your Majesty.” The guard says nervously, probably worried about the knocking, which means that was Grandmother and not the guard.

You look at Steve as Maggie begins to wake, her cries soft but rising as you continue to try and soothe her but now only halfheartedly.

Fear grips you, stealing you of your voice as you stare at your husband. Your little girl’s cries grow louder as she wakes but you’re frozen in place, terrified of what Grandmother could not wait until the morning to tell you.

“What, my flower?” Steve suddenly asks, sliding to the edge of the bed towards you.

“I…I should see what she wants.” You whisper, afraid to speak any louder despite your daughter already being awake.

“Go.” Steve urges you, grabbing your nightdress and moving towards you. He offers it to you as he reaches you. “I’ll put Maggie back to sleep.”

You take the nightdress with trembling hands. If Steve notices he doesn’t say so, but you don’t think he does as he’s already lifting Maggie from the crib, moving back towards the bed.

You dress in a hurry, then move to grab Steve’s robe as it’s closer and pull it over your body.

You’re tying it closed as the door opens upon your approach and find Grandmother pacing the hallway behind the two guards assigned to keep you and Maggie safe.

After what happened with Pierce, Steve is taking no chances.

“Grandmother?” You check, voice stronger but still just as terrified.

“We must speak.” She tells you, her voice strong and her eyes full of severity.

With a tentative nod you have her follow you into Steve’s den next door, shutting the door securely before you move into the room and offer her a seat in front of Steve’s desk.

“No.” She waves your offer off, pacing as you take a seat because your legs are weak again. “I have found a solution.”

“So quickly?” You gasp, hands balled into tight fists on your lap as you watch her pace.

“The sooner the better I would think in this situation. This is nothing like I have ever done before.” She admits. “It will take all of my power to do it.”

“It…will it hurt you?” You wonder, worried for her withered body.

“Probably not.” She shakes her head. “No way to know for sure. But it’s something I’m willing to die for.”

“What?” You gasp, suddenly terrified of losing her.

Finally, Grandmother stops her pacing and moves to stand before you.

“This threat is greater than I first thought.” She admits, slowly sitting herself down in the seat beside yours, turning it so that she can face you. “We cannot allow this power to grow. We can either stop it here, right now. Or we can let your husband stop it later. If we allow him to do it, it will take his life. There is no doubt in my mind of that. There will be others. He will not be the only to perish.

“Stopping this threat now is for everyone’s benefit and if I must pay with my life to save many others, I will do so willingly.” She declares.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You shake your head, your emotions already raw.

“You’re not asking me, girl. I’m telling you that I must do it. I have already made my choice, now the only choice left to make is your own.” She fixes her gaze on you and you find you cannot look away.

“My own choice?”

“You asked me to save him. To ensure that he will live, a great sacrifice must be made. Separate from my own. I will provide the power, the strength for the incantation. Something else must be given for it to succeed.” Grandmother explains.

Your mind springs into action, thinking of the one thing you have of worth to give. Your life.

“So, I’ll…I’ll die?” You whisper, already in sorrow for leaving your husband and child.

“No.” Grandmother says. “No, I’m certain you will live.”

“Then what?”

“The price is impossible to know. It could be anything.” Grandmother gestures at you, looking you over from head to toe. “It could be your sight. Your ability to hear. Your voice. Your ability to walk. Whatever it is, it will be a great price to pay. Only you can choose to pay it but unless you do, I cannot go forward with the spell.”

“C-can I choose? Can I decide what it is that I sacrifice?” You hope, but what would you choose? What do you possibly have that could be worth your husband’s life?

“No. The magics will choose what to take. It will be equal to what it is you ask for, but only the magics can choose what that value is.” Grandmother explains.

This is impossible. This is unbelievable. This is torture.

You have to pay a price without knowing what it will be?

You know that your answer is yes. You’ll pay it. Whatever the price, you will give it willingly if it will save Steve’s life.

“I will pay it.” You nod. “Of course, I will. Yes.”

Grandmother takes your hand and squeezes it, a knowing look in her eyes. “I knew you would.”

She rises and you follow. Your hands feel weak but with the decision now made, you now it’s right and feel settled that you know this will soon be resolved.

Before the old woman can make it to the door, you reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her before she can leave.

“Grandmother…” You begin, waiting for her to turn.

She doesn’t. “Don’t get sentimental.” She says, voice strong though you’re sure that you can hear a small sadness in her tone.

“I want to thank you…for taking care of me. For loving me. I know that you could not always be there when I was young but you’re here now. Thank you.” You whisper, scared to speak louder in case you begin to cry. “I-I just wanted you to know. In case I cannot say it later or if you-”

You can’t even speak the words. She won’t die. She can’t.

With one withered hand, she reaches down and places it over your own. She gives you a squeeze, her hands trembling but reassuring.

“I don’t know when the spell will take effect. Go. Sleep soundly. Hold them close.” Grandmother advises then pushes your hand off her arm and disappears into the sleeping castle.

The very short walk back to your bedroom feels as if it takes forever. The guard make no comment as they open your door for you and you wander in, eyes searching for the loves of your life.

You find Steve snuggled up close to Maggie, his head pressed against the side of her own, his hand on her tummy and his eyes closed.

Maggie is not sleeping. She’s staring up at the ceiling with her little legs kicking gently as she coos and babbles her baby speak. One of her little hands is closed tightly around Steve’s finger, holding tight. As you move towards them, you notice how her hand doesn’t even close around his finger completely. She’s so small still. So fragile.

What if you can’t hold her after paying the price? What if you can’t hear her babble? What if you can’t see her little face or the way her eyes light up and her toothless smile spreads across her face as she spots you?

Just as she does now, she lets out a louder “Goo…” as she spots you and her legs go into a frenzy as she flails her limbs frantically.

You don’t want to cry but you feel the rush of sorrow overwhelm you. Quickly, before Steve can see, you drop onto the bed still wearing his robe and pull Maggie towards you. You hug her and turn her towards you, burying your face against her tiny chest.

Her little hands grab at you, whatever part of your head they can, and she pulls your ears, tugs your hair, scratches against your cheek but you don’t care. You inhale her scent, memorizing it just in case you lose the ability to smell.

After you’re sure you could never forget it, you tickle her sides until she’s giggling lightly, small bubbles and whines of amusement. It’s not a full laugh. She hasn’t done that for you yet. What if you never get to hear it?

You memorize this one anyway, put it away and lock it up within your heart where you know you will always be able to recall the pure sound of her innocence.

It takes every ounce of will power within you to stifle your desire to sob. Still, you manage it and when you’re certain you can face him, you pull back a bit to look at your daughter’s beautiful face.

She’s all Steve. You hardly recognize anything in her looks of you. She’s gorgeous. Pretty blonde hair, just like Steve’s only slightly darker in shade.

Her eyes are a piercing blue. Lighter than Steve’s but just as observant. She watches you, reaches out for your face where she places a small hand on your nose then slides it down to your lips which she casually grabs and releases before her eyes find her hand and she brings it to her mouth to taste.

You watch her for so long, you’re sure that it must nearly be morning, but the sky continues to be dark outside the windows of your room.

You sing to your little one. A quit lullaby that you hope she’ll remember if you can never speak to her again. You tell her you love her and sing some more.

She drifts off eventually, her little mouth open as she sleeps.

Finally, you turn your eyes on Steve, yearning to see him almost to an unnatural amount. You have never doubted it but in this moment as your eyes find him staring right back at you, you realize how much you truly love him. How much he’s changed your life.

Your world has grown since you met him. He’s changed you forever.

Will the sacrifice be your life? Will you be leaving them behind? Will you be wounding him again, just as Margaret had?

Even though Grandmother said it wouldn’t be, you can’t help but wonder and worry that you might very well be spending the last moments you’ll ever have with him and Maggie now.

What if you close your eyes and they should never open again?

At least she would have him. Maggie wouldn’t be alone. She would have her father. And he would have her.

If by some chance her father should also leave her behind, she’d have Nat and Bucky. She’d have Sam and Peter. She’d have the entire team to care for her. Father and Mother would probably try and take her to Malibia.

She would never need to worry about her meals or whether she could survive frigid winter temperatures. She would be protected and loved even if you aren’t around to make sure she is.

Steve blinks slowly. He’s sleepy but he’s trying to stay awake because you’re awake.

You’re not sure if he can tell that something is wrong, but you push yourself up towards him. You’re careful as you hover over Maggie, reaching to hook your hand behind his neck as he also pushes himself up and towards you.

You kiss him, slow and smooth until your heart begins to ache and your hand squeezes around his neck.

You kiss him with a bit more fervor and though he returns it, when you pull away, his brow is narrowed in confusion. Subtle concern.

“I love you.” You whisper to him, reaching down to trace the shape of his bottom lip with your thumb. You kiss him again. “I love you, forever.”

It’s a promise you have every intention of honoring. Will he love you even if you can’t talk? Will he love you if you can’t hear? Will he still love you if you are not the woman you are now?

You know that you can overcome anything. You can embrace a new way of living so long as it means that Steve and Maggie are safe. But will he see it that way? Will he love you for the woman you will become?

“You’re my entire world, Y/N.” He whispers back almost as if he can hear your thoughts and he wants to put you at ease.

His lips curl up at the corns softly as he blinks even slower than before as sleep begins to pull him under. “You and Maggie are my life.”

Your lip trembles as his eyes shut and do not open again, his head falling to his pillow.

“I love you…so…” He trails off, his words lost to dreams.

You stare at him and then Maggie. All night you stare at them, memorizing the way they breathe and smell. If you’re going to be changed forever, you’re going to remember this moment and cherish it until the day you die.

You will never forget it.

~~~~~~~~~~

1 Year & 3 Months Later

The sun is beaming. It’s strong. July is hot, even more so than normal. You groan as you look up to the sky and shield your eyes from the blinding light.

For a moment your mind goes hazy, full of fog. Something changes as it always does. Something shifts.

Something tugs at the corners of your mind. Something blurry and demanding. You get this way every single time you come here.

Every time you fill the wooden bucket, there’s a flash of something familiar.

You focus on the tug, allowing it to unearth the secret that eludes you.

There’s a quick flash that you don’t quite see. A golden hue. A storm blue circle.

Then your bucket overflows and the water splashes your feet, drenching your newly mended shoes.

They’re too small for your feet but it’s all you have.

“Damn.” You sigh, grunting as you lift the bucket and place it on the damp bank of the river.

Across the barren field, your little hut just at the opposite edge nestled into a grove of forest trees, Bright Rise begins to wake.

Another day, another scramble to find a way to keep your belly full.

“Time to check the traps.” You sigh, groaning as you lift the bucket and begin the trek back to your little hovel in the only village you’ve ever known.

The place you were born, but most definitely not home.

Your heart tells you that somewhere out there…somewhere else, your true home waits.

(THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! One more to go!)

#steve x reader #king!steve x reader #captain america x reader #medieval au #royalty au #medieval fantasy au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #pseudo princess #king!steve x you #steve rogers x you #steve x you #captain america x you #pseudo princess pt35

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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years

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ML Analysis: Alya Cesaire: Best friend or Plot Puppet?

Thank you to @cakercanart for commissioning this analysis.

For this we will be discussing Alya Cesaire

This is a LONG POST, so I am posting a read more. I would love to hear your thoughts on this analysis. Do you agree? Do you disagree? Did you want to include something? Let me know.

I think in order to organize this post I will be splitting it up as follows.

How to write a best friend.

Alya Cesaire the Best Friend

Alya Cesaire the Plot device

Canon vs Salt

Final thoughts

So lets get to it

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How to write a best friend.

In fiction, the best friend is best known as the main characters's closest non-romantic associate and confidante in the story. This role is very important when the show, book, game or other type of media needs a character to help express the main character’s motives and actions. Now writing a best friend always ends up coming off as trope heavy and this makes a character come off as less real and more of as a plot device. For a best friend character to be a good best friend character they must follow 3 important rules. First, they must have their own rules. Second, Give and Take, friendship is a two way street. Lastly, they must be more than just the company they keep.

The Best friend must have their own rules. Now this is important because you need to establish what this character values. What does this character think is most important? Do they believe Loyalty is more important than honesty? Do they think stealing is wrong under all circumstances? It is important that we as a viewer understand what makes the best friend tick, we need to already have an idea of where they are going to go with something before the main character goes to talk to them. In a way, they. are more rigid than the main character, since we spend less time with them, we need to have their character more realized than the main character. Now this does not mean a character can't change over time, but there needs to be a solid reason on WHY the character’s opinion on something flipped, it needs to be something clear, like having them learn a lesson on screen. Think of the Best friend’s rules as Pillar in solid ground, they need to be strong and apparent so the Main character knows what side they are standing on in a situation.

Friendship is a two-way street. This is something that needs to be apparent in the relationship between the best friend and the main character. Do they spend time together, are they able to hold conversations outside of the main character’s problem of the day? What has the main character done for them lately? Does the MC value their friendship? Are there rough patches? The relationship itself is important to the dynamic as the best friend, and really is it a friendship if only one person benefits?

The Best friend character needs to be more then just the best friend character to the protagonist. The BFF needs to have a life outside of that bubble, like real people, they need to have other priorities at times, but they will do what they can to help. If this character suddenly stopped being friends with main Protagonist, will this character be able to develop outside of that. They need to be something a kin to a friend you could have in real life. Do you know someone that could match this person? Do you feel that they could exist?

These 3 are the main guidelines in writing convincing best friends and are crucial in establishing the best friend as something more then just ‘Plot device number 1. This criteria will be what we use as a gauge to measure Alya Cesaire. Now we move to the next section.

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Alya Cesaire the Best Friend

Alya Cesaire is the canonical best friend of Marinette Dupain Cheng. She is also the person that runs the Ladyblog, the source for all things Ladybug related. She is a headstrong, confident, can do gal that will do anything to get the scoop. She is Loyal and wants what’s best for her BFF. But the question is, based on the characteristics, how does Alya fair?

The best friend has their own rules. Alya cesaire believes in loyalty, good triumphing over evil, and the truth. As a fan of super heroes it would make sense that she would have a more paragon approach towards things. In that regard, Alya is rigid, but she is willing to bend the rules if it helps her get the truth. To be honest, Alya is a loyal friend, does seek the truth, and believes good should always triumph over evil, but the problem is that she is not consistent on what she values more. Depending on the episode’s need, Alya would be gunho, loyal BFF to the max, like in Befana, Startrain, Origins, but then other times, she puts having evidence and truth over her own best friend’s take, Like in Chameleon, Oni-chan, and Volpina. Its a bit of a mixed bag with her, though I do say that her loyalty and support of Marinette is more of her more common traits. But this constant shift on what she values more is concerning.

Friendship is a two way street. This is where I find Alya does shine brightest. Her relationship with Marinette is very consistent. The two hang out, talk, and enjoy each other’s company. Both have helped the other when needed, and they take time to listen to each other. Sapotis, Stormy weather and Ladybug are the best examples. I will say that Marinette and Alya do not have a one note friendship, Marinette and Alya do talk about things outside of Marionette’s relationship status, Alya and Marinette do debate about things, even going so far as to even tease and joke with the other. In terms of friendship being a two way street, Alya and Marinette have a pretty good friendship going.

Alya as her own character is a bit more solid then one would anticipate based on all the salt surrounding her. She does have a strong character, she has her own relationships, her own actions outside of Marinette. She does have a boyfriend, does have hobbies that don't always involve Marinette. Alya is more then willing to put her needs into view. She has a unique dynamic with her family, she has a developing relationship with her boy friend. She even is friendly to someone Marinette is not the biggest fan of, and still maintains her friendship with Marinette in spite of it. Alya could exist without being Marinette’s Best friend, but it is good that they are friends.

Overall, Alya has a very good dynamic with Marinette and has her own character outside of that friendship, her main flaw is that with inconsistent writing her standing as ‘The pillar’ is not very effective, she can appear to be at the whim of the writers at times because of this inconsistency. But to determine if she is really more Plot device then Person, we head to the next section

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Alya Cesaire the Plot device

The Concept of a Plot device is simply a literary device (a character, an outside force, etc) that helps move the plot along in some way shape or form. The problem with Best friend character’s is that if they aren't the ones with the super powers, they are often put into the position of being the plot progression button in one of two tropes, the Plot voucher or the Quest giver. The plot voucher is the character that gives the lesson or solution early on and tells the MC that they should do something and often its what the character needs to do in order to solve the problem. Think Chekov’s gun. The Quest giver is the character that states what the character needs to do, often propelling the character into the situation. whether intentionally or not. Alya cesaire is often criticized as being a plot device since she is often the one pushing marinette to do things. Now to be fair, characters in the show can still be their own character while being used as a plot device, but the problem occurs when Plot is prioritized over the character. In order to judge if a character is more of a plot device, I have come up with 3 solid criteria. In order for a character to be more plot device than character they must achieve all three of the following, contradict their own morals on more than one occasion, Formulaic role writing, and P.R.E.G.O. These three criteria are crucial in judging one’s character.

To start off, contradictions in character. What this means is that the plot of an episode will do something that will make a character do something that would go against the core attributes of a character without explanation. Like having a vegetarian character eating meat. Now there are times when writers make a mistake and if it happens once then it is more like a mistake and not a constant trend. An example of Alya having a contradiction in character would be in Chameleon. (This is where a lot of the salt started so this is understandable), where Alya tells Marinette that she would need proof on her accusations. Now this is a case where additional dialogue would have made this NOT a contradiction. If Alya showed self awareness, like if she said, “I have learned my lesson about making accusations without solid proof.” That would have probably been fine and also a good moment of character development. But the expression (without that addition) comes off without context. Alya does show another moment of hypocrisy in Oni-chan, when she tells Marinette to ignore Lila when she was talking with Adrien, but at the end of the episode then questions why Marinette isn't spying on them. Now in the context of the episode, its to show how Marinette learns a lesson, but in this case (which I find as MORE egregious than Chameleon) this makes Alya look like a massive hypocrite. There are a few other times in season 3 where Alya has shown a few bits of hypocrisy which makes me say that Alya has matched this first criteria.

Formulaic role writing is a criteria that is less on the character of Alya, but on the show’s treatment of Alya. So to explain Formulaic role writing is where a character is put in a show to always do a specific thing for a character or for the plot. This is very common in episodic shows, like how in the original Power rangers, Zordon is the one that calls the rangers to fight a monster, he is basically the ‘Alert system’. In Alya’s case she is often regulated to 2 specific parts, Wingwoman and Lore finder. In her role as wing woman, she is basically trying to help Marinette out with Adrien, in whatever way she can. This results in plot progression and getting Marinette from point A to Point B. The second role is Lore finder, she is the one that goes searching to find out stuff regarding the heroes, because its for her blog. Now Alya has shown times when she is not in either of these roles, such as in Anaisi, heroes day, Stormy weather 2.0, Timetagger, just to name a few. It has Alya living her own life and existing outside of these roles. This helps because these examples are not in the character contradictions category, which helps us evaluate that Alya does not completely conform to this trait.

The final criteria is P.R.E.G,O or better known as Plot Relevant Exposition Given Only. What this means is that a character is only given lines that help further the plot, character development of the MC, help solve a problem, or cause a problem. P.R.E.G.O is the epitome of finding out how one-dimensional a character is. If you can fit all of the dialogue into a category covered in P.R.E.G.O, then it is simple to determine if a character is simply a plot device for the author’s to utilize. To put it simply Alya does break out of the P.R.E.G.O model as she does develop as her own character and has moments where she is doing her own thing. Both in canon, and on the Instagram. Alya has a boyfriend, a strong relationship with her sisters, her own goals and hobbies, and even her own insecurities. Alya as a character, while not correctly utilized is not fitting of this criteria.

Overall, Alya is more then simply a plot device, but she has been used on occasion to further the plot in ways that would contradict her character. The writing for her can be vastly improved and while she does have her flaws, should not be dismissed as simply a mouth piece for the shows plot.

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Canon vs Salt

Alya cesaire is often found to be one of the few characters (ever since season 3) to be heavily criticized and bashed by a chunk of the fandom. Now with how the fandom reacted to her, I was curious on what brought such unfettered hate onto her. It was sort of surprising to see how far the fandom went with not liking her. So after careful analysis, I managed to isolate the two main reasons on why she is so polarizing to the fandom. These reasons are, poor Writing and projection.

The writing on Alya has been inconsistent at times and in early season 3, with episodes such as Chameleon, Oni-chan, Oblivio, and Reflekdoll. The salt for her really started to rise. The most common assertion by the salters is that Alya is completely inattentive to other people’s needs and will prioritize her own desires above all else. Like in Oblivio, when Alya posted the photo of Ladybug and Chat noir kissing when Ladybug stormed off after seeing it. Now in the context, it seems rude, and it kind of is. Sure Ladybug didn't tell Alya not to put it on the blog, and she wasn't even mad at alya who took the photo, so the argument could be that alya would have not posted it if Ladybug told her not to. But it is still something alya should have asked before posting. Not that all journalists and reporters ask for permission before posting things, its common curtousy. So in this regard, criticism towards Alya is warranted if one wants discuss terms of improvement. However, in alya salt, she is often depicted as someone that would throw marinette under the bus and dismiss her, that is something Alya has yet to do and would likely never do. Alya has disagreed with marinette at times, but she has never (while in control) insulted or dismissed her friend. The salt/bashing of Alya’s character in that regard is inaccurate and is not warranted.

Projection is the action of placing issues onto another that are not applicable to one’s character. This is where all of the bashing of Alya’s character comes from. Alya is often projected as being one of Lila’s main enablers and the one that makes marinette feel awful. Alya is often portrayed as one of the worst people in salty au’s because she is the one closest to marinette. Her ‘Betrayal’ makes the pain Marinette feels much worse. Alya is being used by salters to place their own issues of broken friendships from the past onto her. From the few au’s and fics I have read with Alya salt, the betrayal that alya often does seems far more personal when described, as if the author was pulling from personal experience. Alya, according to the salt community, has become the perfect character to project the agony of betrayal because of the massive salt that has been piled on from chameleon onward.

In conclusion, Alya is critiqued because of poor writing from the show, and is bashed because of fan projection. Alya is a character with faults and suffers from poor writing but she is not deserving of the unabashed hatred she has received.

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Final Thoughts

Alya Cesaire is a character that could use some better writing and could use some better establishment on her traits, but she is still good on her own merits and I conclude that she is more than a tool of the plot, she is a multifaceted character that will hopefully improve in season 4.

#ML analysis #miraculous ladybug #Alya cesaire #Alya critique #ml salt #ml fandom salt #alya salt

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melon-kiss · 3 years

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This is just going to be a ramble about everything Sherlock. You’re most welcome to discuss or just ignore it. I needed the space to vent.

I watched Sherlock. Again. I think it’s beginning to become my annual tradition. And I have a crisis. Don’t get me wrong, I am always Sherlollian at heart. It’s just… I have doubts sometimes. And what triggered those doubts this time was the fact that Sherlock calls Molly “John”. Twice. And then Irene Adler. And then one post on Tumblr. And many, many more.

OK, these are just my random thoughts. Enjoy if you’re willing to read them.

1. “John”. “Molly”.

We often mix up names of people we consider to have the same place in our lives. Which is good, right? Right. Only, in Sherlock’s case, we’d have lean into the theory that Sherlock does love John romantically and feels the same way about Molly. Or concede the fact that he loves them both platonically. Neither of these options is really satisfying, isn’t it? Well, that’s why I’m struggling… One could say he’s in denial of feelings for Molly and identifies them as friendship, as this is the strongest, purest relationship in his life, the only one he describes as emotional and the closest he’s ever had to love. Besides, Molly and John are similar in one way – they both share the same – medical – knowledge. Of course, Sherlock doesn’t realise her other qualities until The Reichenbach Fall when she says she can help him whenever he needs it. It’s not until she’s honest with him again and tells him, without a shred of grudge, that she knows she means nothing to him, that he realises he has at least two friends. He calls her “John” when his mind is busy with something else, so there’s no room for any purposeful confusion. The same thing happens in The Empty Hearse. What else can it mean if not friendship?

2. Nothing Hits Like Irene

Irene Adler is created as the love interest for Sherlock. Is she, though? Well, we see Sherlock utterly confused upon their first meeting. We also see him flirting and creating an atmosphere of sexual tension for the first time. OK, he saves her but then she vanishes, he got over her, I thought. And all was fine until The Lying Detective came and Irene Adler sent a text to Sherlock, first in such a long time. John, of course, suggests that if Sherlock should be romantically involved with anyone, it should be her. And then it hit me.

Irene Adler is the symbol of chemistry in Sherlock’s life.

She’s a dominatrix. She’s all about sex, that’s obvious. At the critical point of The Scandal in Belgravia Sherlock says: I believe John Watson thinks love’s a mystery for me but the chemistry is incredibly simple and very distractive. Sherlock discovers that he, indeed, can have chemistry with people. He doesn’t mention love, he merely says sentiment, referring to the crush Irene Adler had on him. She is, indeed, a simple distraction – you can see it clearly in his memory palace when he yells at her to get away. But Molly… Molly stays. She leads him through the entire process of surviving a shot.

And then Irene Adler returns in The Lying Detective. John confesses to Sherlock about texting with a stranger met on the bus. And that he wanted more. Sherlock says everyone gets to be human sometimes. Even he can’t resist the urge of replying to Irene Adler sometimes. It was all about attraction again.

And that’s why she’s not considered a romantic relationship in his life. John rambles about love changing him, to be more specific, the love of his woman changing him. But he says Irene’s a dangerous criminal. How would that change Sherlock in any way?

In The Final Problem, upon deducing the coffin, John suggests Irene Adler but she’s not his first thought in general once they all hear that this is about someone who loves Sherlock. Sherlock’s response is very telling: Don’t be ridiculous. Look at the coffin. It seems like Sherlock pieces the puzzle at once – the coffin, plus the “name” on the lid – it couldn’t have been Irene Adler.

And that’s why Sherlock calls her The Woman. As a symbol of his sexuality. The Woman who’s woken up certain impulses in his life.

3. Makeshift Gauge

Who is she?, Sherlock asks John in His Last Vow.

Based on what Mofftiss duo said about Molly, she was supposed to be featured in two episodes top. Yet, she stayed. The uncanonical character not only stayed but became fans’ favourite. I think she became a useful tool for Moffat and Gatiss. I think that not only she represents Sherlock heart (of which existence he has no idea at first) but later becomes our makeshift gauge. For what? For measuring Sherlock’s progress. See, it’s like when you live with someone, you don’t notice when they put on weight or grew a little but those who see less of them will notice all changes right away. So, when Sherlock runs around with John, we don’t notice the change in his behaviour at once (also because he’s always been nice to him, from the very beginning), we need to focus to see that. But Molly pops by once per episode and we see how Sherlock’s perception changes. In season one, he has good intentions, but they turn out bad. In season two, he’s more neutral but doesn’t restrain himself from rude comments. And Molly is being Molly – tells him he’s rude in her natural, soft way and he says sorry. For the first time. Without anyone making him do that. Almost the same happens in The Reichenbach Fall – but this time, Molly doesn’t let herself be fooled by Sherlock’s arrogance and just ignores it, going straight to the point. She says: “I’m here for you” and lowers his defences. In season three, he spends an entire day with her, smiles at her and is the sweetest, softest Sherlock we’ve ever seen. Moreover, when Lestrade asks him about her helping him solve cases, he says: [John] is not in the picture anymore, implying that she not necessarily had to be a temporary replacement. In season four, he says I love you to her.

What can we deduce about his heart?

4. The Eurus Conundrum

We could write an entire book about Eurus and not even be able to grasp her spirit. I’m not going to do that right now.

I have issues with what happened in season four finale. I mean – Molly, of course. Mycroft says Eurus and Jim Moriarty met five years ago, so before Moriarty revealed himself to Sherlock. They both planned the entire game for Sherlock. Does that mean Sherlock never really won with him? Does that mean Moriarty let him use Molly to “win”? Since she was included in Eurus’ plan, we can safely assume Jim knew about Molly back then. At first, when I saw Moriarty saying We both know that’s not quite true [that you don’t have a heart] in many Sherlolly fanvids, I was like naaaaah. He didn’t see her as one of the important people in Sherlock’s life, it couldn’t have been a reference to their meeting. But now… how deeply back in time was Eurus’ plan allocated? Which events did she predict?

Or maybe I’m missing something? Any thoughts on this?

5. Sherlock Evergreen

I once came across a post here, about how BBC Sherlock is literature, about sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s struggle with his own genius character. He was over with him, didn’t feel like writing any more of his stories so he killed him, but fans demanded more. He kept writing, although he hated it from the bottom of his heart. Season four, so often considered as the worst of all of them, is a way of saying that Sherlock character is, unfortunately, invincible. Immortal. He will live forever. We can’t kill him, no one can. Even his creator couldn’t have done it.

In season four, Sherlock goes back to the start. He is a clean slate again. He went through the entire process of change – became a good Sherlock, considerate of other people’s feelings and emotions, appreciative, supportive, loving, ready to mend what he broke. That interpretation, although very good, kind of killed my Sherlolly spirit. But I guess every interpretation like this would do it. If we stop treating characters like real human being, we’re left with what they really are – a construct, tools, puppets in the author’s hands.

Based on this, I think we’re safe to say there will never be a fifth season of BBC Sherlock (gosh, how I wish I was wrong!). Why? Because, despite what Moffat said in an interview once (after season three finale he said they’ve plotted out the entire fourth and fifth season – liar, liar, pants on fire!), season four had the perfect ending. As mentioned above, Sherlock became a good man and Mary Watson summed up what Sherlock is all about: two man, a genius junkie and a former soldier, who solve the weirdest, the toughest of cases together in flat on 221B Baker Street. Now, Sherlock is ready to be taken over by other artists who may find a new way to tell his story (though, I don’t think so) all over again.

And that’s a big, big shame… I think I speak for at least most of Sherlollians when I say we’d like to see Sherlock and Molly’s first encounter after the call. The finale really closed all the story arcs and subplots, except for this one. I mean, c’mon. You don’t have to be a Sherlollian to be annoyed by this – just remember that it was such a “biggie” that Moffat was asked about this in an interview. And this may be another reason as to why we won’t ever get a fifth season of Sherlock – because that would mean taking a side. And none of the creators will do it because Sherlock cannot be an open-and-shut case. It has to be like literature: big, open, twisted, unclear and full of room for interpretation. As long as there’s no certain explanation – yes, Sherlock loves Molly, no, Sherlock is gay – we create more and more content out of the need of closure. Thanks to the room for interpretation, the story lives. I mean, it’s been four years since The Final Problem airing and here I am, discussing BBC Sherlock still.

Coming back to Sherlolly… don’t worry. Though I’m still not sure that we can harvest any hard evidence for Sherlock’s feelings for Molly (other than friendship and respect), I’m still a Sherlollian. There two new fics waiting for me to pull myself together and write them. I think it’s good to have doubts – it means my brain hasn’t rotten yet and I can still be critical, I’m able of having my own opinions.

Thank you if you managed to read it all! I’d love to discuss if you have any conclusions. If not, that’s fine, too. I just needed it get it out of my system.

PS WHY DOES MY POSTS IN ENGLISH SOUND SO SOPHISTICATED IN MY HEAD BUT WHEN I PUT THEM IN WRITING, THEY’RE SO SHITTY?!

#bbc sherlock #sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #irene adler #molly hooper #sherlolly #molly x sherlock #thoughts #eurus holmes

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 4 years

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(Accidental 150 Follower Special) IOTA’s Top 10 Best (and By That, I Mean Personal Favorite) Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug

Alright, I already covered what I considered to be the worst Miraculous Ladybug episodes in two parts, and now it’s time to talk about the what I consider to be the best Miraculous Ladybug episodes before I talk about... him...

I’m only putting one rule in place for this list. I'm going to try and list episodes with good qualities other than “cool-looking Akuma and awesome fight scenes”, and focus on other details like character moments and story.

Other than that, let’s get started.

These are the Top 10 Best Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (in my personal opinion because your opinion is also valid)

#10: Mr. Pigeon

While Marinette works on sketching a design for a hat for a fashion contest where the winning design will be worn by Adrien (a rare example where the “Marinette does a thing to impress Adrien” plot actually works), a birdwatcher who loves feeding pigeons in the park is told off by the only police officer in Paris, causing him to get akumatized into the titular Mr. Pigeon, who has control over all of the pigeons in the city.

And by God, does this episode have fun with the concept.

In addition to constantly mimicking pigeon cries, Mr. Pigeon's movements are just so entertaining to watch, only aided by the creative ways he controls the flocks of pigeons.

I'm not kidding when at one point, Mr. Pigeon traps Ladybug and Cat Noir in a cage, and threatens to have his pigeons crap on them unless they hand over their Miraculous. Yeah.

This is one of the episodes that really set the standards for how outlandish the Akumas in Miraculous Ladybug could get. It kind of reminds me of an episode of the original Ultraman, where the SSSP has to find a way to move an incredibly heavy monster using increasingly abnormal strategies, like inflating it with air so it'll float like a balloon. It's clear it isn't taking itself too seriously, so the audience shouldn't either.

Admittedly, Cat Noir's feather allergy feels shoehorned in, and is only included to increase conflict, and you would think it would come up when Mayura, a bird-themed supervillain appears in the third season. But then again, that's just a minor nitpick.

It's just a really fun episode, and I wish we could see Ladybug and Cat Noir fight Mr. Pigeon again that isn't used for a cheap gag.

#9: The Puppeteer

After being told by her mom that she can't have a Ladybug doll made by Marinette, young Manon is Akumatized into the Puppeteer. But obviously, you can't have our heroes beating up a five-year-old, so instead, the Puppeteer has the power to exact control over past Akuma victims as long as she has the doll made by Marinette. So Ladybug and Cat Noir have to face off against Lady Wifi, the Evillustrator, and Rogercop, before the Puppeteer gets her hands on the dolls Marinette made of the two heroes and take control of them as well.

It's still kind of funny to think about the fact that of all the Akumas to become a huge threat to Ladybug and Cat Noir, it's a little girl throwing a temper tantrum. And like with “Mr. Pigeon”, the episode has a lot of fun with the concept, best reflected in the voice acting. You can tell that Carrie Keranen is having so much fun this episode with the stuff she says as Lady Wifi.

The fact that someone who was actually a major threat to the heroes with how she was able to easily outsmart them and also came really close to getting their Miraculous is now acting like a little kid using phrases like “super duper sorry” is even more hilarious.

I'm still a little confused as why of all the past villains, it's Evillustrator and Rogercop that get to come back, and I wish they had gotten more to say, but it's still a treat to see Ladybug and Cat Noir fighting four villains at once, especially since this was before “Heroes Day”.

#8: Sapotis

Hawkmoth akumatizes Alya's little sisters into Sapotis (supposedly based off a folktale, but I can't find anything about it online), who have the power to multiply and easily overwhelm Ladybug and Cat Noir, forcing Ladybug to recruit Alya to become a third hero, Rena Rouge.

I've been a little negative about Alya in the past, but this episode gives her some major character growth. One of the biggest problems I had with her character in Season 1 is how often she tried to figure out Ladybug's identity... despite claiming to be a huge superhero fan, who should know why superheroes keep their identities a secret. Thankfully, this episode mostly puts an end to this idea.

The episode opens with Marinette giving Alya some reasons why Ladybug would keep her identity a secret, and it actually plays into the episode.

Putting aside the stupid Rent-A-Miraculous system introduced in this episode, the idea of keeping secrets and how necessary they can be sometimes is reflected after the battle where Alya is hesitant at first to give up her Miraculous, but eventually concedes and keeps her identity a secret from Marinette (who ironically knows, but that's not important).

Even without that, this episode still has a lot of action with the three heroes fighting their way through an army of Sapotis, with plenty of banter during said action. Hell, at one point, Cat Noir says “gotta catch 'em all”. I don't have a joke here, that's just brilliant.

Out of all the introductory hero episodes, this one easily sticks out among most of them.

(Don’t worry, I’m going to talk about Rena Rouge’s character design in a later post.)

#7: Guitar Villain

I said before in an earlier post that Jagged Stone is one of my favorite characters in Miraculous Ladybug, so it's obvious that the episode where he gets akumatized would be on this list.

After a disagreement with his manager about trying to mimic the popular singer XY (who ironically lacks a Y chromosome), Jagged is akumatized into Guitar Villain, a rock star with a pet dragon who forces everyone to listen to his Awesome Solo (yes, he names his attacks too) to dance uncontrollably.

Honestly, there's not much I can really say about this episode. It's Ladybug and Cat Noir fighting a rock star who flies around on a goddamn dragon. That's one of the coolest things I've ever seen! Even the way they defeat him (which I won’t give away) is a fun jab at rock stars.

Admittedly, the episode does border on grouchy old man territory sometimes by complaining about how bad today's music is with the way they portray XY as a whiny and egotistical coward, but after watching “Silencer”, you'll be glad everyone hates him.

Overall, it's a rockingly awesome episode.

#6: The Dark Owl

Mr. Damocles, the principal of Marinette and Adrien's school, is akumatized into the Dark Owl, a corrupted version of his favorite comic book superhero (who would later turn out to be real in the New York special, but I don't want to acknowledge that), who uses his high-tech gadgets to trap Ladybug and Cat Noir, putting them in one of their toughest binds yet.

I'm a huge fan of the Adam West Batman show, so you could probably guess why it's on this list. This episode really feels like an episode of that show with how goofy and over the top everything is. Obviously, this episode has a few Batman references thrown in (even an Incredibles reference at one point), and they're all hilarious.

I just love how complex Dark Owl's traps for Ladybug and Cat Noir are, and the fact that he actually manages to outsmart them at one point. Like seriously, have you ever heard of a death trap that involves drowning someone in whipped cream? That’s totally something you’d see the Joker setting up.

I don't really want to give away the ending (which is why this part is so short), because I think it's a really clever resolution that you should check out for yourself.

#5: Gorizilla

Hawkmoth akumatizes Adrien's bodyguard into Gorizilla, whose sole purpose is to protect Adrien. His motivation? To see if Adrien is actually Cat Noir or not. So Adrien has to avoid this gigantic gorilla's wrath with Marinette, all while trying to catch a movie his late mother was in.

See this? This is Adrienette done right. This is the kind of interaction I like when it comes to romance. Marinette and Adrien spend a few scenes with each other avoiding Adrien's crazy fanbase, and Marinette doesn't stammer half of her words. Even when she interacts with Adrien as Ladybug, she still remains confident, and Adrien trusts her judgment when it looks like he might fall. I don't just want Marinette and Adrien to cuddle with each other or declare their love for each other when they get their memories wiped. I want them to interact like human beings before they actually start a relationship, and this episode is a good example of it.

Adrien also gets some good focus with the way he views his relationship with his parents, as does Gabriel with his relationship with his son. Granted, he's taking a pretty huge gamble trying to kill Adrien to see if he's Cat Noir or not as opposed to just... taking off his ring while he sleeps. Can we at least admit he's trying?

I feel they could have done more with the King Kong homage (guess who I'm talking about?), but I can understand there wasn't enough time to focus on that. It's still an important episode to watch for plot and character growth that will barely be acknowledged in later episodes.

#4: Sandboy

tHe SaNdBoY hAs ChEcKeD iN. nOw NiGhTmArEs CaN bEgIn.

Now that we got that obvious joke out of the way, let's talk about one of the most creative episodes of the show.

Tikki and Plagg, Marinette and Adrien's Kwamis (the magical beings that power their Miraculous) take part in a ritual with the other Kwamis inside Master Fu's Miracle Box to contact Nooroo, Hawkmoth's Kwami, on his birthday and get an idea of where he is. Unfortunately, Hawkmoth chooses to akumatize someone during the ritual, leaving Marinette and Adrien helpless to fight back against Sandboy, an Akuma with the power to make their worst fears come true.

I said before in my worst list when talking about “Ladybug” that there was too much going on for one episode, what with Marinette's expulsion, the attempted Scarletmoth attack, and the fake Ladybug plotlines generally being rushed through. This episode is basically the opposite of that (ironically, they're both the penultimate episodes of their respective seasons).

The Kwami ritual and the Akuma attack are perfectly staged together so one affects the other. Not only do the Kwamis have to risk aborting their ritual to reach Nooroo in order to fight the Akuma, but Marinette and Adrien have to deal without fighting off Sandboy's nightmares on their own. Both plots balance each other out into a well-crafted story.

This is also one of the only episodes in the show where the Akuma of the week isn't the man focus. Here, we don't even see what happens to get the kid akumatized into Sandboy, and instead, Gabriel senses someone with negative emotions and akumatizes the kid offscreen. This works, because it doesn't distract from the main plot too much.

Even Marinette and Adrien's worst fears beautifully contrast each other, with both managing to be unsettling in different ways, even if they both have different tones. While Adrien's worst fear is being imprisoned in his own room (the fear only made worse with Plagg's absence), Marinette's worst fear is... the real star of the episode. Ladies and Gentlemen, I think you all know who I'm talking about.

You can tell the animators had a field day with animating Nightmare Adrien. Just look at the way he moves around and the faces he makes. It manages to be terrifying and hilarious at the same time. Bryce Papenbrook's performance only makes it better, cementing this as the highlight of the episode.

This episode also does a good job at foreshadowing the main plot for Season 3 with Hawkmoth finding out about the other Kwamis and by extension, more Miraculous.

It's got plot, comedy, good action, and Nightmare Adrien, so how can you turn this episode down?

And no, I'm not talking about Nightmare Ladybug, mainly because I'm tired of all the evil doppelgangers from the worst list.

#3: Startrain

Yes, believe it or not, I managed to find a Season 3 episode that wasn't complete garbage, and spoiler alert, this isn't the only one.

Marinette and Adrien's class goes on a field trip to London by taking the train, until the driver is akumatized into Startrain, who wants to escape to the one place that hasn't been corrupted by capitalism... SPACE! So Ladybug and Cat Noir have to defeat Startrain while also finding a way to bring everyone on the train back home.

I like how this episode plays with the usual Akuma of the week formula. Unlike every other Akuma they've fought, Cat Noir points out that if they beat Startrain, everyone will die, so they have to be more strategic in their approach. They don't even fight Startrain for most of the episode, as they have to make their way to the front of the train to confront the Akuma. The action in this episode is very creative and really takes advantage of zero gravity, only aided by the design of the futuristic train the episode takes place in.

The new hero introduced, Pegasus (AKA Max, another student in Marinette and Adrien's class), is also really cool, being very intelligent and helping out the heroes progress through the train even before he gets the Horse Miraculous. It makes sense that his intelligence would be used rather than just his powers in this situation.

There are even some good character moments too. For once, Master Fu does something smart and loans the Horse Miraculous (which has the power of teleportation) to Marinette so she can still go on the class trip, trusting her and actually letting her have a life. It was also nice to see Alya stick up for Marinette by keeping Lila from interrupting her nap with Adrien.

This episode is basically like a refreshing glass of water to enjoy during the garbage fire that was Season 3.

(I’m going to talk about Pegasus’ character design later on too, don’t worry)

#2: Silencer

Lukanette shippers, ASSEMBLE!

Music producer Bob Roth and his son XY hold a contest for young artists to show off their skills, and Kitty Section, a band composed of several recurring characters, decides to enter, with Marinette helping to design their costumes. But as soon as they submit their video, they find out that XY copied their style, naturally pissing the band off.

Marinette and the lead guitarist of Kitty Section, Luka, confront Bob Roth and XY, who threaten to ruin their careers by claiming that they ripped off XY. Seeing Marinette getting threatened is more than enough for Hawkmoth to akumatize Luka into Silencer, who naturally has the power to silence and mimic the voices of others.

I talked about Luka and his relationship with Marinette in an earlier post (specifically the one where Astruc claimed that the fandom growing to like Luka counted as character development), and I said that this was one of the few good episodes this season because of their interactions. This episode basically made me realize how much Luka cares for Marinette, and the episode gives plenty of time to show the two spending time together and growing closer. It's basically everything “Oni-Chan” should have been about, giving some depth to Luka and not portraying him as a crazy person like they did with Kagami in that episode.

Silencer is also one of the more creatively designed villains this season, and has a really creative approach to achieving his goals. While the ability to steal and imitate someone's voice seems mundane compared to control over the weather, or making nightmares come to life, it's used very effectively. Silencer basically tricks the police into arresting Bob Roth while imitating the mayor's voice, and he threatens to make his life a living hell by using the connections to the voices he's stolen. Even with the hand puppet gesture, it's still unsettling to have Silencer speak in all these voices, and it would make for a really interesting horror movie.

Even Ladybug and Cat Noir's interactions are back to their Season 1 levels of enjoyment. Even though Silencer took her voice, Ladybug just makes so many expressions that do a great job at describing her feelings, which naturally plays off Cat Noir's motormouth tendencies. Whenever Cat Noir jokes about Ladybug's condition, he is rightfully called out on it and is reprimanded in some way, my favorite being when Ladybug uses her yo-yo to hit Cat Noir on the head to shut him up. Even putting aside that, they still work well together this episode and really feel like equals. I also love their silent fist bump when Bob Roth is exposed.

Again, the episode still takes the time to go on about how unoriginal today's musicians are, and how they lack artistic creativity and all that crap. Look, given how ham-fisted the writing in this show can get, are you surprised the commentary isn't subtle?

Even putting aside how much this episode made me appreciate Lukanette, it still has a lot of great moments that aren't even related to the ship itself, which is a real testament to how this show can perfectly balance romance and story when it's done right. Now if only the show could try this much with Adrienette, then people wouldn't hate the main pairing of the show this much.

#1: The Collector

Taking place immediately after the Season 1 finale, Marinette meets Master Fu and discusses the book she found depicting past Miraculous users. Marinette theorizes that since the book was in the Agreste mansion, Gabriel could be Hawkmoth. And to the surprise of absolutely no one, she's right, and in order to draw off suspicion, Gabriel akumatizes himself into the Collector.

This episode has several good writing decisions for both sides, and the choices the characters make feel natural. Gabriel akumatizing himself is such a smart move, and so is what Marinette and Master Fu do with the book at the end. This episode does a great job setting up future plot threads and establishes Master Fu's character and the mystery associated with him.

The Collector is a visually stunning villain, and his powers are really creative, leading to a great fight with Ladybug and Cat Noir, who use a great strategy to outsmart him. I also love how over the top he is in order to make the heroes believe that he's working for Hawkmoth, all with a devious smile on his face.

This was also the episode that really got me into Miraculous Ladybug as a whole. I checked out the first season on a whim after it was mentioned in a Pan Pizza video, but it was during the hiatus between seasons, and I hadn't really started using Tumblr yet, so it mostly stayed off my radar. When Season 2 started however, I really got invested in the story, and the way this episode turned out was a big reason why. I wondered what it would be like when Adrien finds out his own father is Hawkmoth, and how the story would play out after the reveal.

Despite what it led up to, I still consider “The Collector” to be my favorite episode of Miraculous Ladybug.

Well, now that I talked about that, not it's time to talk about what I consider to be the worst episode of Miraculous Ladybug, “Felix”. God help me...

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grimmjowkurosakidrake · 4 years

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Fluttering down, fluttering love

Summary: Post Gaiden, Sasuke finds Sakura in the middle of an ill fated mission.

Length: 3501 words

Relationships: Sasuke Uchiha/Sakura Uchiha, Sasuke Uchiha/Sakura Haruno

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: NSFW

Disclaimer: This fic is a commision for the really kind @talesandwonder but really, the idea was so good that I couldn’t stop writting XD

If you want to commission me or any of the other wonderfull writers of @witcheswritings don’t hesitate to DM us!

Sakura will never stop being in awe of the sheer amount of safe places the Uchiha hold around the five great shinobi countries. There’s something to be said about a clan who expanded so far outside of their territory; Building strongholds, secret caves, and cabins deep in the woods around almost every single shinobi populated (or even unpopulated) territory.

This is where Sakura feels somehow estranged from the Uchiha clan. She’s never been outside of Konoha in a mission and thought about making arrangements so her daughter or other relatives could find solace outside the village.

She often thinks about taking Sarada on dates at her favorite dango place, she usually has a camera ready for any important moment in her life.

But she rarely thinks about helping her on missions, just like her own parents rarely talked with her about her own missions, back when she was a genin.

She’s not like Sasuke.

After marrying him, the Uchiha disclosed an entire map of the five great shinobi countries to her. It was an old thing, dusty and well loved, obviously a family heirloom passed to the boy only by merit alone of being the last Uchiha.

“The blue dots are safe places,” Sasuke told her, on a spring night in one of those lucky moments of their journey together when they could spend the night in an inn, change their clothes and take well needed bath. “The red ones are settlements of people who will help you when they see the Uchiha symbol on your back.” He murmured placing a steady hand on the newly embroidered mark on the back of her red shirt. “No questions asked,” he finished, whispering against her ear.

This information was supposed to be for her ears only, so she could be safe anywhere without worrying about being on enemy territory.

Because she was an Uchiha and the Uchiha kept their own safe.

It’s all thanks to this conversation that when she and Sasuke find themselves in need of hiding from their enemies, with her husband heavy and passed out on her shoulders as she tries to drag them both through the heavy rain and into the small cabin well hidden in the depths of the woods north of the land of water. Sakura doesn’t waste any time trying to find a hidden spot.

She already has every spot on the Uchiha map committed to memory.

The cabin is small, completely furnished but not properly stocked, the door is locked too, and Sakura doesn’t have enough chakra to hold her husband and break the door at the same time.

She’s strong enough, thought.

The medic-nin ends up kicking the door open, Sasuke barely wakes up at this, still in a feverish state but awake enough to smirk at his wife’s show of strength.

“Aren’t you glad that we found each other, wife?” Asks the shinobi, holding onto Sakura’s shoulder, trying to stand by himself but failing miserably as his wounded legs fail him.

They’re both drenched to the bone, sweat, blood and rain water mixing in dangerous concoction, putting them at risk of catching a cold, on top of everything.

“Yes,” She chuckles, kissing the side of his head before dragging Sasuke to the dusty, old bed waiting for them at the center of the small cabin. “I always love to reunite with you while being surrounded by rouge ninja, dear.”

She allows the dark haired man to sit on the bed as she limps and closes the door, struggling to perform a simple sealing jutsu on the entrance.

She’s almost completely depleted of chakra, having been fighting for more than an hour alone with more than forty rouge shinobi without a moment to breath or heal herself.

She has burn wounds all over her right arm and leg, her own left leg sensitive from two separated stab wounds courtesy of her enemies.

She hasn’t been able to heal herself properly, not with every single shinobi on her tail and well aware of her identity, with each one of them attacking her at the same time.

Sacrificing their bodies and their lives for the chance of taking down one of Konoha’s three neo sannin.

They obviously knew every single detail about her.

Sakura Haruno can heal herself from almost anything in less than ten seconds, her inhuman strength only paralleled by her quick strategizing in battle, and her chakra control a feat most shinobi twice her age could only dream for.

Sakura Haruno, also. Would rarely mortally wound an enemy unless pushed to her limit. A deadly weapon with almost no body count to show for it.

When Sasuke found her, she was down to almost thirty men but he had his own tail of rouge shinobi behind him.

He was already wounded when they found each other in the middle of their own fights. Sasuke, luckily, was not being followed by more than five shinobi and his chakra reserves weren’t low by any means.

He was never one to have mercy on his enemies. As the last of his clan (his family), and a former international criminal, Sasuke Uchiha was not one to rule out murder if it meant saving himself or his loved ones.

With a sigh, Sakura reaches the bed and helps her husband out of his cape and bloody clothes.

He’s bleeding from his right thigh from a katana wound in the form of an almost clean slash across it. He’s probably poisoned if the almost blueish complexion around the three needles still attached to his left shoulder have anything to say about it.

He also has a nasty bruise by the side of his face that could end up developing in a concussion if not treated immediately.

Overall, his injuries are definitely more pressing than her own and even if they weren’t, Sakura would never treat her own husband after herself. Rules of a medic-nin be dammed.

Sasuke of course, would love to object. “You should treat yourself first, Sakura.” He admonishes her as she makes a quick job of removing the needles attached to the shinobi’s shoulders. “My injuries can wait.”

“You’ve been poisoned, dear.” She points out as if it weren’t already obvious, “You definitely can’t wait treatment.”

Sasuke huffs as she opens her poison’s scroll, carefully removing the poison with the aid of a concoction she had stored away on a small vial. “I’m immune to most poisons,” he reminds Sakura, grunting as she injects him with one of her standard antidotes.

“That would make two of us,” she smirks, green soothing chakra oozing off her hands as she makes a quick job of healing the wound on his thigh.

When Sakura is almost ready with the both of them, just finishing with applying some salve on the burns on her arms, Sasuke speaks up. “You shouldn’t have come alone,” he growls from where he’s laying on the bed, still too sore from his injuries and blood lost to help her. “The borders near Rain are still full of rogue shinobi.” He adds, glaring at a blind spot near her. “No matter what Naruto or the other Kage say, the shinobi world is not a place of peace.”

Sakura is strong, but she’s human, a mortal just like him and even Naruto. But more than anything she’s kind. Completely different from anyone of their team. Where everyone at team seven decided to kill for a living, she choose to give life.

If she just killed those men, Sakura would not have been in any trouble, but his wife will never kill anyone if she feels that she doesn’t have to, most of the time she’s reluctant to even mortally wound her enemies.

For what she��s told him, even the death of what he considers a virtual monster: Sasori. Affected her as if the puppet she fought was a living, feeling person.

She felt for him, on his last seconds, cried for him after his death, and learned from him as much as she learned from his grandmother.

She’s a medical ninja at heart, stronger than most, but as far as Sasuke is concerned, Sakura should never have mission alone near the borders of a shinobi village whose culture still revolves around murder and senseless violence.

Sakura huffs, kneeling in front of the fireplace where there’s still some wood from who knows when, it’s a little bit green around the edges so it will be difficult to star a decent fire, but she can do it.

Deeply inhaling and accumulating her chakra at the top of her lungs, Sakura allows herself into breathing the fire her husband passed onto her as if she was his own blood. It was difficult to learn at first; she has to admit. Sakura is not compatible with fire ninjutsu, not even with air ninjutsu.

But people like Kakashi do exist and even if she can’t create a great fireball justsu of the monumental size Sasuke has achieved after years of training. She’s still able to produce enough fire to ignite the fireplace.

“It was supposed to be a recognizance mission,” Mutters the pink haired kunoichi, moving the wood around with the fire iron. “I was not even aware that the place was filled to the brim with rogue ninja.” She sighs, leaving the warmth of the fire to sit alongside her husband on the bed. “If someone told me that there would be shinobi around I would have concealed myself.”

Silently she touches her own hair, then, her forehead, tracing the small diamond tattoo that she earned with years of storing chakra even when her life was at risk.

“I’m not the most discreet looking kunoichi around.” She mutters.

Sasuke sits up on the bed, moving himself so he can be as near her as possible, then, almost in a wary way, the shinobi lifts his only arm, caressing her pink hair with great care.

“The borders of Rain had been invaded for more than a month.” Growls the Uchiha patriarch, not angry at her, of course not.

He’s angry with his Hokage, his best friend.

Naruto must have been aware of this fact. Sasuke somehow manages to be in more contact with the Hokage than with his own daughter and wife.

Even if he promised them to be around more often, to be more in contact with them.

After his short detour in Konoha, when he had an ill fated meeting with a Sarada that didn’t recognise him just like he didn’t recognise her. Sasuke quickly came back to the road, asking Naruto to take better care of Sarada, and informing him that he would be coming back more frequently, if only to start training his daughter as she deserves.

But this past month, Sasuke has only been able to keep correspondence with the Hokage, too apprehensive about his falcons being intercepted by the enemy for him to reach out to Sakura.

It seems that Naruto didn’t have any reserves about exposing their ex teammate to the rogue ninja as himself.

“I’ll have a talk with Naruto.” Finally, concludes Sakura, resting her head on his shoulder. Even if she’s at least a little bit mad with herself for having to be saved by her husband once more. She knows that Naruto didn’t give her enough information.

Sasuke has been giving him information for over a month, without sending falcons to even her, Naruto should have at least told Sakura to conceal herself.

“That will make it two of us,” he mutters, holding her tight from across her waist. “I can’t believe that idiot.”

“I should have been prepared anyway,” Sighs Sakura, accepting the warm comfort of her husband’s reassuring weight so close to her. “I know the peace treaty doesn’t mean anything more than politics, that I shouldn’t go out of Konoha without concealing myself.”

“It’s not your fault.” Mutters her husband, kissing the side of her head, “You fought with your life for that treaty to be made. You are war a hero, there’s no one more prepared than you.”

“That can’t be true,” she smiles kindly at him.

Sasuke is well known across the shinobi world for being cool and almost, borderline cruel. There’s been more people than Sakura can count warning her about the former criminal. But he is kind to her, he is kind to his daughter.

Sometimes maybe too kind.

There’s something to be said about a merciless murderer who’s able to feel love, who’s capable of kindness.

There’s a lot to be said about the woman who falls in love with him. Always ready to love everyone but herself.

Sasuke sighs “I’ll speak with Naruto.” He concedes, there’s not a lot to be argued when Sakura feels that she has something to prove. “There were at least five A-rank shinobi in the group you fought alone, it’s not your fault when you didn’t even know that you were supposed to fight.”

“You’ve never needed to be briefed before entering enemy’s territory.” She mutters, “you’re always prepared, and so are Kakashi and Sai.”

“You are a medical ninja.” He reminds her, “no matter your rank, you’re always supposed to be part of a team. Especially when dealing with so many powerful ninjas around the area.”

Sakura smiles “Sasuke-kun…” she sighs.

“We will talk with Naruto.” He smiles at her reassuring, “he needs to be reminded of his duties as our Hokage.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Asks Sakura facing him. he smiles at her words as she lifts her hand, carefully moving the hair covering his left eye. “Ino would never believe me,” she laughs.

“Don’t go out ruining my reputation.” He kisses the side of her lips. “I won’t start being nice to anyone out there. Just you.”

Sakura smiles, kissing his closed mouth as he moves away from her face. He grunts but answers the kiss in kind when she holds the back of his neck with one hand and buries her fingers on his hair with the other.

She moans a little when Sasuke licks her bottom lip, and eagerly gives entrance. It’s only when he bites her lower lip that she separates from him.

“You’re hurt, dear.” Admonishes Sakura moaning as Sasuke kisses her neck, licking a long strip from her clavicle to her chiselled jaw.

Sasuke only smirks as an answer. “You’re a really good doctor, wife.” He growls, biting the lobe of her ear.

He plays with the hem of the mesh crop top she wears underneath her qipao long shirt, drumming his fingers against the center of her chest from underneath it, waiting for her to act, as he kisses her deeply.

She barely hesitates before moving him aside with a gentle push on his own naked chest, making a quick job of taking off her top.

He smirks holding her by the waist when she gingerly sits on his lap. “I am a good doctor.” She whispers in his ear, caressing the prominent bulge on his boxers with a firm, steady hand.

Sasuke groans at the feeling, urgently kissing the top of her breasts with wet, open mouthed kisses, lifting his hips and uselessly trying to rut against her hand as she presses her thumb against his already erect cock. “Sakura.” He groans, playfully biting her right nipple.

“What?” She smiles, slowly caresing the sides of his memeber, playing with the head of his cock where a wet patch is already staining his underwear.

There’s a heated glint in her green eyes, clearly amused by his neediness. By the way he groans when she moves away from him in order to take off his boxers.

“Don’t tease.” He growls holding her neck, then her waist again. Forcing her body underneath him.

“I’m not.” She pouts, lifting her back from the bed when her husband trails barely there kisses from her quivering throat to her stomach.

He easily takes off her pants whith Sakura’s help as she lifts her hips and opens her legs at each side of him.

The lace and silk boy shorts she usually wears undermath her mission clothes are already wet when he kisses the underside of her tights, it doesn’t mean Sasuke will stop there.

Sighing deeply, Sasuke licks a long stripe across her entire clothed sex, holding her clit on the inside of his mouth until she’s burring her fingers on his head and interlacing her legs behind his neck, the talons of her feet digging on his spine.

She hastily removes her fingers from his head to take off her underwear herself. This is what he’s been waiting for.

For Sakura to forget his own pleasure in favor of hers. To overlook him completely as she grips him by the neck and holds his face against her pussy. Forcing him there as Sasuke licks her insides, moving his tongue inside of her core in quick, broad thrusts.

There’s no forcing him, Sasuke loves being here; in between her legs as she moans and demands for more. But the feeling of her manicured nails digging on his scalp, the pain on his back as her legs kick against his skin.

That is the feeling that keeps him rutting against the bed, gasping for breath as he’s not able to hold his owns growls and moans of pleasure at the edging feeling of the barely there pressure of the bed against his cock.

Sakura comes for the first time like this, thrusting hips against her husband’s face, screaming with Sasuke’s mouth holding her clit as his tongue flicks around it without stopping. Not even when she let’s go of his hair or when her juices drip from his neck jaw to his collarbones.

Even when her body falls heavily on the bed, Sasuke lazily kisses her labia to his heart’s content, enjoying her little tremors and gasping moans of over-sensitivity.

“Sasuke-kun…” Sighs Sakura breathlessly holding his jaw. “Stop.” She commands when he tries to fight her grasp on him. “You’re still hurt, honey.” Coos her wife incorporating on the bed and caressing his lower lip with her thumb.

Her voice is soothing but her eyes are burning as she forces him on his back. She kisses him sweetly when her hands grip his cock.

Sasuke can’t help but moan from the depths of his throat as she slowly lowers herself on his member, enjoying the burn and the feeling of finally being full after so much time apart.

With a triumphant groan, Sakura’s hips align with his own “Sakura.” He groans, griping her waist as she bends over him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her knees bending at the sides of his hips.

“It feels so good.” Moans Sakura, her arms resting at the sides of his face, her hips moving without a warning. “I’ve missed this,” she moans against his open mouth.

Slowly, her hands move to the sides of his neck, her tongue peaking out of her open, red lips making his own mouth open up on instinct, gasping when they meet in the middle.

Her hands move to his chest, using him as leverage to rise heavily onto his hips, setting a breathless pace over him. “You’re...” gasps Sasuke, his hands moving to her core, his thumb running small, quick circles on her clit. “So tight,” he moans moving his hips alongside Sakura’s, “so warm.”

There’s warmth coiling at the bottom of his stomach, pressure on his entire chest and his hands moves erratically on her clit. “Sakura!” he screams, unsteadily thrusting into her even when he knows that he should pull out.

She doesn’t respond, her body falling on top of him as her inner walls constrict against his cock and her legs close against him. Sasuke holds her with one arm, embracing her through her moans and quivering espasmodict thrust of oversensitivity, thrusting mindlessly inside her, before coming.

“Sasuke-kun!” Moans Sakura one last time, his grip on her entire body and the warm feeling of her husband filling her, too much for her to remain silent.

There’s a mess of fluids in between them as they cuddle breathless in bed, Sakura’s pink hair tickling the top of his nose.

************......... ************ ************......... ************ ************......... ************ ************......... ************ ************......... ************

The morning after, Sasuke finds Sakura drinking tea with a warm cup of coffee resting by her side. She’s naked from the waist down, her qipao shirt open and resting over her shoulders.

“When are you coming back to Konoha?” He asks, taking the coffee and kissing the top of her head.

“Sarada is on a mission for two weeks.” She answers, smirking “You think we can take down this invasion by then?”

Her smirk is almost feral with confidence, her eyes sharp, just like they were yesterday when she had him on the palm of her hands.

This is the woman he married, Sasuke thinks as he grabs his Katana from the mess of clothes they left las night.

A warrior to her core; confident and strong.

#Sasuke Uchiha #sakura uchiha #Sakura Haruno #naruto fanfiction #sasusaku #sasusaku fic #post gaiden #commission #commisionwork #taking commisions #nsft text

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thisaliennerd · 4 years

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so true blaine, sam and britt are autistic!! but post about it i wanna know why u think that

I literally only needed one person to ask me this, so thank you for being that person, anon! Britt is very self-explanatory, and Sam is also pretty obvious imo (although I do have lots of notes on him too), but since I think Blaine needs a little bit more explaining, here is my evidence as to why I think he’s autistic.

First of all, let’s look at some of the common symptoms of autism in adults:

Difficulty interpreting what others are thinking or feeling

Trouble interpreting facial expressions, body language, or social cues

Difficulty regulating emotion

Trouble keeping up a conversation

Inflection that does not reflect feelings

Difficulty maintaining the natural give-and-take of a conversation; prone to monologues on a favorite subject

Tendency to engage in repetitive or routine behaviors

Only participates in a restricted range of activities

Strict consistency to daily routines; outbursts when changes occur

Exhibiting strong, special interests

I think Blaine exhibits all or almost all of these things throughout the show, so let’s go through the list, point by point (with examples):

First, difficulty interpreting what others are thinking or feeling. Blaine is very bad at this, especially romantic feelings. He doesn’t catch on to Kurt or Tina having crushes on him for way too long even though neither of them are subtle about it. He also doesn’t seem to pick up on most of Sebastian’s stuff. He seems to be aware that he’s hitting on him, but he doesn’t seem to be aware of his rivalry with Kurt or any of his malicious intent. Every time he and Kurt get into a fight he needs Kurt to explicitly tell him what’s wrong.

Second, trouble interpreting facial expressions, body language, or social cues. Blaine is TERRIBLE at this. He doesn’t understand sarcasm, he can never tell when people are lying to him, he often doesn’t understand how to talk to his peers, and he has no idea when people are uncomfortable. I have so many examples for this and the first point, but here’s just a small sample: s2e12 (22:15) - not getting that Jeremiah was very uncomfortable with the song, s5e9 (37:20) - when he’s named valedictorian instead of Artie or Tina, he apologizes to them and says that he thinks that things get handed to him, they sarcastically say they haven’t noticed, and Blaine believes them, s5e14 (15:10) - when he asks Kurt if he’s smothering him, and Kurt lies and says no, he believes him even though Kurt is a terrible liar, and (my favorite example of this) in s6e5 (40:15) - saying that he should thank Sue for trapping them in that elevator because now he and Kurt are just friends, and she says, “So thank me” and he actually says thank you (followed by Kurt saying, “Don’t actually thank her!” - amazing).

Third, difficulty regulating emotion. Blaine is very bad at regulating his emotions, especially negative ones. Most notably, anger. Blaine has intense angry outbursts, which will tie in later. Examples of this: season 3 episode 8 (13:50) - getting into a fight with Sam, season 5 episode 14 (26:50 and 27:20) - yelling at Elliot, and season 3 episode 15 (22:35) - outburst at Cooper.

Fourth, trouble keeping up a conversation. Blaine frequently talks about how he’s bad at communication and talking to people, especially about feelings, outside of song. He often has to sing to say bad news or confess things. Examples of this: Singing to tell Kurt about him cheating (s4e4 - 14:30), singing to confess his feelings to Sam (s4e17 - 21:15), singing to tell Kurt he’s not in June’s showcase (s5e20 - 10:40). When he is confronted by a conversation that makes him uncomfortable or that he wasn’t prepared for, he often has to shut down to think about it. Examples of this are when Kurt confesses his crush in season 2 episode 12 (30:40), Sam telling him he knew about Blaine’s crush in season 4 episode 17 (37:10), and the Frat Boy Physicals incident in season 5 episode 16 (21:05).

Fifth, inflection that does not reflect feelings. Generally, Blaine seems to be pretty good at this, especially in comparison to Brittany, but when he gets upset, he does sometimes get weirdly monotoned or just puts on a strange tone of voice. The best example of this I have is in season six, episode four (9:40 and 10:10).

Sixth, difficulty maintaining the natural give-and-take of a conversation; prone to monologues on a favorite subject. This is definitely true, especially when he gets upset about things. Season 5 episode 7 has the best examples of this, he starts by trying to lead the glee club in Mr. Shue’s absence, but he ends up coming on too strong and speaking over his peers (00:40). Next, when Kurt implies that he’s being a puppet master, he gets very upset, and keeps focusing on and coming back to that, even when Kurt tries to change the subject (6:45), and finally, he starts ranting to Brad, and cuts him off when Brad tries to chime in with his problems (11:40).

Seventh, tendency to engage in repetitive or routine behaviors. Blaine has the most consistent clothing and presentation out of anyone in the show, and as seen in season 3 episode 15 (17:15 and 38:10) and in season 5 episode 6 (28:15), Blaine has been dressing like this and doing his hair the same way since he was a kid. He even owns the same shirt in multiple colors (season 5 episode 6: 27:25). In season 4 episode 17, he talks to Sam about how his daily routine and how he walks the exact same way from class every day (00:45). This is also the first time Blaine mentions efficiency, he measures his routine down to the second, and it being efficient is really important to him. This comes back in season 5 episode 14 when he’s trying to make the loft more efficient (23:05). He also reveals in season 5 episode 20 that he needs to measure the stage before performing in order to improv (7:30).

Eighth, only participates in a restricted range of activities. Now you may be thinking, but Miriam, this doesn’t apply, wasn’t he president of like every club his senior year? Yes, he was, but this actually doesn’t disprove this one. He still really is focused on a few activities like glee club, student council, and school in general. He only signs up for the other clubs in a time of crisis, and he’s never seen doing anything outside of school in college or in seasons 2 or 3 (except for his special interests). And as these are all school clubs, that meet on school grounds, they’re still in his comfort zone.

Ninth, strict consistency to daily routines, and outbursts when changes occur. So we’ve talked about his routines, what happens when they’re broken? In season 5 episode 14, Blaine attempts to set routines with Kurt, making him breakfast every day, scheduling their days rigorously, etc., which leads Kurt to feeling smothered, but Blaine tells Elliot that he feels like he doesn’t know how to communicate. He feels very uncomfortable with the change of living in New York and the shift in the power dynamic between them. This is reinforced a few episodes later in episode 16, when these issues come back. In addition, episode 16 has an example of Blaine having an outburst when a short-term plan is disrupted. He and Kurt had planned to walk to class together, and Kurt had bailed without telling him, and Blaine gets very upset (23:05). Another example of this is when he finds Tina and Sam making out in season 5 episode 10 (24:45, 29:30). Their plans were disrupted, and he has an outburst/meltdown. Another example of long-term routines being disrupted is in season 3 episode 8. Sam has just come back to McKinley, and immediately, Sam and Blaine dislike each other. They’re both trying to choreograph and don’t like each other’s ideas, and they get into a fight that gets physical. Both of them are having an outburst due to the other invading the other’s space and routines (13:50). This then becomes an example of point three, as Blaine is seen boxing (physical reaction) to regulate his emotions (effectively stimming), which he also does in season 3 episode 15 when he’s angry at Cooper (26:40).

Finally, exhibiting strong, special interests. This one is probably the easiest to prove. Blaine’s special interests include show choir (he knows everything about it, he even reads the show choir blogs - s5e11: 6:50), boxing (he started a fight club at Dalton - s3e8: 14:00), Broadway (when he coaches the Warblers, Karofsky mentions that it’s pulling teeth to get Blaine to use any music that’s not Broadway - s6e3: 00:25), piano, and even music in general. To give some specific examples, Blaine is also known for having some shorter-term interests that he gets just as invested in, the best examples of this are puppet making (I know, I know, but it applies, he gets so into it for that week) from season 5 episode 7, dressing up as a superhero (no neurotypical person could do Nightbird, please) from season 4 episode 7 and season 5 episode 10 (16:45), and star wars fanfiction (he and Sam have a whole conversation about how ewoks are obviously polygamists) from season 5 episode 15 (5:20 and 26:35).

Blaine also has some other general traits. If you’ve ever watched him sing, he is constantly bouncing on his toes. He’s prone to incredibly intense eye contact, and is very sensitive to criticism, rejection, and public embarrassment (Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria - I have too many examples of this to name). Little things that could be interpreted as sensory overload: season 5 episode 7 - hating loud chaotic environments, and lashing out because of it (00:35 and 00:55) and season 6 episode 5 - where he’s the first to say that they should just kiss to get out of Sue’s elevator because he’s getting very hot (29:00). In season 6 episode 1 during the break up scene, Kurt says that Blaine initiated a 3 hour fight about Kurt getting toothpaste on a towel (21:30), which is not neurotypical behavior, and Blaine responds in a way that indicates that it really bothered him. He’s an actor seemingly a very talented one, something that would make sense if he’d been masking his whole life. Finally, he has a very deep connection with Sam, who is clearly neurodivergent. He and Britt are the only people who understand Sam, and there are multiple times where Blaine knows how to calm Sam down when no one else can.

Now there’s also a case to be made about him having a terrible childhood and having some trauma from that, (I strongly believe that he feels like he has to be doing things for people in order for them to love him because of Cooper) but I also think that this is pretty compelling evidence.

The episodes that I found the most evidence in if you want to look for yourself are season 2 episode 12, season 4 episode 11 (this one’s also good for Sam), season 5 episodes 7, 14, 16, and 20, and season 6 episodes 1 and 5.

#blaine anderson #glee #sam evans #brittany pierce #glee headcanon #kurt hummel #klaine #autism #headcanon #gleeposting 😔

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genshin-djinn · 4 years

Text

Genshin Impact Chapter 1 Act 3: A Reaction.

Chapter 1 Act 3 is what took my experience with this game from “good game” to “masterpiece”.

THIS POST CONTAINS MANY, MANY SPOILERS FOR GENSHIN IMPACT CHAPTER 1: ACT 3

Genshin Impact has some problems— actually, it has a shit ton of problems. But during the fight against hordes of Fatui, with the Adepti channeling their abilities through my gang, flying through them as Oz, decimating them with Diluc— I just thought, this is the best time I’ve had in a mobile game in my life.

This game might not be perfect now— it’s only a quarter of the way done if we’re counting Karenri’ah. But it will be a fucking masterpiece once it’s all out. If this is the level of quality we’re getting for our archon quests, this game is going to be an amazing time on story alone.

KEQING

I love Keqing with all my heart. If she were alive today she would be a socialist here to topple the ruling 1%. When ningguang asked Aether who they trusted more, her or Keqing, I hit the Keqing button as fast as possible.

I think one of my favorite things about Keqing is that she’s so completely honest, which is unusual for a Liyue politician. If she doesn’t like something, she’ll speak out against it. If she thinks something else should be happening, she’ll make it happen. She can probably be deceitful at times, but in general she’s straightforwards in that she wants a government for the people and by the people.

I can’t wait for her story quest!

NINGGUANG

pretty.... voice pretty....

Ningguang is cool. Her JP voice is very pretty, like she could do ASMR videos online or smth. One thing I decidedly did not like about Ningguang is how her personality just ???? flips? In the middle of the quest, for no reason other than “because plot”.

It’s established that Ningguang cares about two things more than anything— the Jade palace and Mora. Why, then, would she destroy the Jade palace for the sake of Liyue? I get that she’s a good person at heart at all, but I want to see more of her indecision, her brain saying “mora” and her heart saying “Liyue”. The way she just flips on a dime isn’t really strange but it does contradict with her preexisting characterization.

Childe’s Boss Fight!

The section of this quest from Childe’s fight to the Adepti + Qixing battle is just nonstop adrenaline.

Childe is IMO a lot more fun than Dvalin (sorry Dvalin). I’m at WL5 and have a tendency to play fast and loose with important mechanics like.... dodging, for example.... and Childe’s Mask Electro form ended up destroying my team. I killed him with Guoba because everyone else besides Xiangling was dead. I

Another thing I really enjoy about Childe’s boss fight is that in the irrationalities of Childe as a character, it actually makes sense. Genshin is decent at making weekly bosses logical excursions— Andrius wants you to get stronger, Dvalin’s weekly fight is ~~all a dream~~; but tbh sometimes the weekly bosses don’t make sense. Andrius wants to train us, not murder us! How does dvalin, a dream slash memory that doesn’t exist, manage to knock someone out?

Childe as a weekly boss actually makes perfect sense. He’s an adrenaline junkie addicted to the thrill of fighting people— to put this in modern AU terms, he’s the guy who’s first in line to ride the rollercoaster that failed all of its health and safety checks. Childe wants to befriend the Traveler entirely because they’re stronger than him, so that he can fight them over and over again until he’s the strongest. Of course, this will never happen, because the Traveler is the MC and therefore is stronger than all others. However, in this way Childe being a repeatable boss makes 100% perfect sense— he actually wants to fight the Traveler again and again and again.

The one question I have about Childe is how in the living feck are the Fatui letting him join the Traveler and fight for them *against the Fatui*??? I think this might be touched on in Childe’s Story quest, which I’ll do in a bit, but like????? They let him keep his delusion and just walk over to Aether like “aight fam I’m on your team now”? How?

Jade Chamber/ Guizhong Ballista vs Sea Monster Fight!!

Basically, all my charged adrenaline from nearly dying to Childe just came to a head in this one huge fantastic fight.

And Xiao :)

I absolutely loved seeing the Adepti and the Qixing work together. This fight was probably my favorite fight in the whole game— the music was amazing (soundtrack where), the graphics were so nice, the adepti were so feckin cool, using everyone’s abilities was n I ce. My adrenaline was reaching its highest point at this fight and it was just perfect. It was just so fecking fun after days of WL5 pain, having to pop like five ultimates to kill one hillichurl, to be able to just demolish swathes of enemies with Fischl and Diluc, run around like a madman thanks to Xiao, have infinite health idr who did that for me but bless them, just absolutely destroy.

Ever since I hit WL5 I haven’t been able to really just go insane during a fight and stop caring about HP/ when to use skills/ dodging and this have me that opportunity.

Zhongli’s Deal

*punches Zhongli across the room with the power of being the player character* I love this man so much.

Zhongli Zhongli Zhongli Zhongli Zhongli. I AM VERY ANGRY AT HOW THE PLOT RESOLVED HIS STORYLINE. But it also makes a lot of sense. And I think, for once, Zhongli should be allowed to be selfish.

Because choosing to leave Liyue was a bit selfish. He’s leaving the country that adores him, loves him, gives him shit for free; to its own devices and then to a completely unknown fate once the new Geo Archon becomes god and takes over. But he made a frankly fantastic plan and can now leave the country, for now, in peace.

I was absolutely delighted to see Zhongli in Morax form. Making deals with La Signora, being a complete and utter puppet master who set this entire situation up and played Childe like a kazoo; but just like his dear friend Venti, I think Zhongli is happier when he’s just Zhongli, the eccentric mortal. He seems so much happier and so much more relaxed when he’s forgetting about mora and eating dinner with Aether and Paimon. Rex Lapis might have just put Liyue through the wringer, but he can now put down his 3000- year long reign and just be the happy, eccentric Zhongli.

Zhongli’s little bit of insecurity over being a “bourgeois parasite” makes perfect sense now— he doesn’t want to be seen as Morax, a superfluous god who’s using his name to get whatever he wants from the humans he watches over.

But also the part of my brain that feeds off lore nEEDS to KNOW what Zhongli got from Tsaritsa. What could be worth a gnosis? His own happiness isn’t enough— Tsaritsa is likely going to use his gnosis to try and destroy Liyue. What could be worth that?

My main thought would be either “someone’s protection” or “another gnosis”, but I don’t think the latter is possible. The former could be possible but doesn’t really make sense either— a) whose protection is worth putting an entire country, much less the world, in danger and b) the Fatui are out to kill everyone who isn’t Fatui, so they won’t agree to spare a major player in the war to come like that. Brain go brrr.

I’m very hyped for Zhongli’s story quest, which I think is coming with his banner on Dec 1, when Childe’s banner ends. I really hope that Zhongli visits Mondstadt and chills with Venti for a while, but anything with this guy would be fine lol.

LORE

We got a lot of lore this update and I am delighted by it.

Firstly, we get a tiny hint of how Visions are bestowed— “if a person shows true strength of will at a desperate and fateful moment in their life, the gods will look upon them with favor.” Vague but more than we had before.

Next we got some neat lore about Inazuma— firstly, that it’s led by a god named Baal and secondly that it steals everyone’s visions. I’m very hyped to visit because guess what fam aether doesn’t have a vision.

Final Thoughts

In case you can’t tell from my insane ramblings, I loved Chapter 1 Act 3 and I absolutely cannot wait to play through Childe’s story quest and Chapter 2 and beyond.

The Prologue in Mondstadt set the stage for Genshin. We started out in a fantasy environment with a fantasy tale of an immortal bard and a dragon. Mondstadt was an excellent introduction to the world of Genshin.

And now? We’re starting to build on that. Chapter 1 brings us another story of another god and their relationship with the country they watch over. Liyue is much less of a traditional fantasy setting and takes the darkness we saw in Mondstadt— a friendship ruined by manipulation and suffering— and build on it. Now we don’t just see the Fatui more often but we also see more of the Treasure Hoarders and the way both groups kidnap and experiment on humans.

Mond started to introduce us to the Fatui, but Liyue is where they really start bringing continuous plot relevance. Inversely, we saw much more of the Abyss Order in Mondstadt than we did in Liyue. I’m extremely disappointed we didn’t see any more of the Princess this chapter, but it makes sense given that Chapter 1 was really more about the Fatui than the Abyss Order.

All I’m trying to say is the Liyue arc was an excellent continuation to the stage Mondstadt’s arc set. Now, we’re on to the world of the Eternal Shogun, Baal! I’m really excited to meet new characters and experience new stories of Inazuma, but I hope we’ll continue to see Mondstadt and Liyue in the future. Mondstadt is likely going to be the most “boring” of the countries we experience, cuz it’s just so classically fantasy- themed, but it will always be the first country we explored in this world.

After Inazuma (if I had to take a shot in the dark, inazuma’s arc will take from December 23 to maybe March or April) we’ll go to Sumeru, which I am really extremely hyped for because it sounds extremely different from Mond and Liyue and we’ll meet Cyno and possibly even Collei! (just me extrapolating lol). I can’t wait to see where Genshin Impact goes story- wise, because its first major update has brought so much to the table.

#genshin impact #genshin spoilers #gi spoilers

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Is There Anything Left of Patton? (Part 8 of the Series “Is There Anything Left of Patton?”)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton, Virgil & Patton

Characters: Patton, Logan, Virgil, Roman

Summary:

Is there anything left of Patton?

...

Patton would like to know.

Notes: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Patton is a zombie, Angst, two paragraphs of fairly light gore, sickness, character death (in a way)

Look I am very proud of this part. Really proud. I’ve been chomping at the bit to post it.

Thanks to @kieraelieson for betaing

This is the eighth part of a series of one-shots called Is There Anything Left of Patton?

Previous parts:

“Something Left”

“Someone You’ll Never Meet”

“Food You’ll Never Eat”

“Things You’ll Never Do”

“There Are Things That Are Lost”

“There Are Things That Are Missing”

“And There is a Question”

(If you are using a screen reader, please read this on AO3 which I have linked here. There is a part of this chapter that would mess with a screen reader. So, I have an edited copy that is the same with a briefer description of that part.)

Patton booted up his 60s and 70s playlist on his phone and paused to listen for a few seconds, hoping it would put a little pep in his step. He’d gotten up about an hour later than he usually did with the beginnings of a major headache, but he was hoping he could ignore it and push through. He didn’t bother to boot up his laptop, instead just going through and responding to the most pressing work emails on his phone. His eyes were already straining after that short task, so he closed them and let the phone fall to his chest, trying to focus on the music still coming through the speakers.

He woke up 5 hours later. The headache had not abated, in fact, it had only grown worse. He coughed, hoping the tickle in his throat was just from it being dry and he wasn’t getting sick. He and Lo had plans for the weekend.

The plan had been to do most of the chores today so their weekend would be free; it was half of the reason he was working from home today, but he might have to do an abridged list. The vacuuming and dusting could wait a bit yet and Logan and he could tag team the dishes from this morning when they cleaned up after dinner. Laundry had to be done today if he wanted something to wear tomorrow, but that wasn’t too hard of a task. He also should probably water the plants, especially the one by the armchair; it looked a little dry. Then, he should cook something for dinner before Logan got home. His head throbbed. Maybe just something simple.

He gritted his teeth and sat up. It’s easy, Patton, he told himself, water the plants, do the laundry, cook. It was a short list. He could do it.

Okay.

Gather the laundry. Patton had left two of his cardigans strewn about the living room and dining room, so he picked those up on his way to get the laundry from the bathroom upstairs. He put everything into a basket before heading to the laundry room and starting the first load.

Water the plants. He grabbed a pitcher and filled it with water. He started making the rounds but got distracted by one of the Beatle songs that started playing. He was reminded of what he was supposed to be doing when the washing machine buzzed.

Switch the laundry. He took the laundry in the washer and put it in the dryer before adding another load. Then he went back into the living room.

Finish watering the plants. Had he watered the plant in the corner? He couldn’t remember, but even if he had, the plant had been a bit neglected so watering it twice shouldn’t hurt. He watered the plant and then sat down on the couch again.

His headache was getting worse.

He needed to cook something for dinner.

Something really simple then. The washing machine buzzed again while he was thinking about what to make.

Laundry. He grabbed the first load out of the dryer and switched the others. He tossed one of his cardigans on the couch. He figured he’d probably want it later since he’d started to go through phases of hot and cold in the last 30 minutes or so. He stared at the laundry and managed to fold a couple of the important pieces before deciding that was enough for the moment.

Cook. He walked into the kitchen and stumbled when the headache suddenly increased. Black spiderwebs spread out over his vision and he fell, hitting his head on the countertop. He gasped in surprise and pain as he crumpled onto the floor, holding his head. He felt hot all over and cold at the same time suddenly. The cough returned, shaking him completely. He tasted blood.

This was not normal.

He grabbed his phone from his pocket and wasn’t sure if he was having trouble reading the numbers because of whatever was wrong with him or because of the panicked tears building in his eyes. He managed to dial 911 with shaky fingers. He wasn’t sure how he was able to so calmly wait for the operator to answer and then explain what was happening to the best of his abilities. He gave his address and told her he was in the kitchen.

He made the mistake of trying to get back to his feet and sit in one of the kitchen chairs while he waited for the ambulance to arrive. He did manage to make it to his feet, but then everything went black.

He woke briefly to strangers touching him. He did not like it. Paramedics, his brain supplied. He tried to tramp down the overwhelming instinct to struggle against the restraints on him. He’d been strapped to a gurney he assumed, and there was something boxing in his neck. A woman’s face lent over him.

“Hey, there,” she said. “Patton, right? Try not to move,” she requested, as he was being wheeled out of his front door toward the ambulance. “It’ll be fine.” Ironic last words to hear before you die. Ironic last words to say before you die too.

The other paramedic, a man that had been wheeling Patton out of his house, looked up at something behind the woman with a confused, pinched expression. Then, the woman screamed. Blood and bits of flesh splattered all over Patton. The other paramedic screamed too a moment later as the person or thing that had attacked turned its attention on him, dropping the woman’s dead body so it slumped against the gurney and Patton for a moment before sliding slowly down, leaving the feeling of wet, warm blood against Patton’s front and side.

Patton was never touched by the person who had attacked. After all, what would be the point of the virus targeting him when he’d already been infected the day before.

He died 10 minutes later.

…

Sort of.

He awoke (in a way) sometime later. Though, it is perhaps strange to say he woke as his eyes had not been closed and he was somewhat aware that his body had been moving for a long time before then. There was something around his middle and out out out raged at the back of his skull, but that is not what had woken him. No, what had woken him was a much too warm touch on his cold face and the harsh black tingling feeling that crawled like ants up his throat to settle between his teeth.

Patton did not like that feeling. He tried to yank away from it both physically and mentally. Physically there was not far to go as he was still strapped down, but mentally he jerked hard on that foreign desire pulling at him and it retreated a bit. For all the hissing wildness of the urge and his own fractured brittleness of consciousness, it was easy to rein in the instinct and make it freeze in place. Like Patton was a dying tree and it was a balloon whose string got caught in his branches.

The soft touch on his face retreated and what Patton recognized as words were said though none of them settled in Patton’s head enough for him to make sense of them. Soon he felt more touch near where he was restrained. He felt himself squirm without meaning or wanting to. Soon enough, he was free and like a puppet on a string, his body sat up. Then…

Touch. Touch, touch, touch.

It was not something Patton chose to do, in fact he was flickering in and out so much, he didn’t think he could have done it if he’d tried, but his hands were reaching for the warm thing in front of him and grabbing at it. Yet, the touch was soft; that was okay, Patton decided.

After a moment, Patton got soft touches in return, warm hands on his face and careful hands pushing Patton’s own away a bit. There were more words, quick things that left no impressions. Eventually, he was pulled forward with his whole front against the warmth and his mouth was pressed up against something hard and bony like someone’s wrist. He turned his head away a bit displeased with the feel of the thing over his mouth, but he allowed the warmth against most of his front to say. Safe, he thought. Whatever the warmth and soft touches were, they were safe. Safe enough that, while he made sure to keep a good mental grip on the bad instincts still wiggling in his head, he felt like it was okay to fade into nothing once again. He thought he could hear crying as he went.

For a long time after that, he was nothing more than a ghost haunting his own flesh. He barely existed, but for the brief moments he flickered into consciousness to shove the prickling instinct inching in his mouth and throat firmly away.

Other than that, the aching out out out caused by the constant restraints keeping him tethered to the wall, mostly kept him from thinking. He’d tune in sometimes when Soft Touch came to talk to him, but quickly faded away knowing he was safe. Perhaps he did not like the things that held him down, but he knew it was okay. He was okay and that was enough.

Then, suddenly, there was a voice. Soft Touch came with a voice too which always settled familiarly around him, but he was used to it enough that he never paid it much mind. This voice was different though. It had a certain candidness to it and was a bit lower. At the beginning it often rumbled a bit like a growl, but over time it started to soften around the edges, growing kind. It spoke to him a lot and the newness pulled Patton into trying to listen to it more sometimes when he was slightly awake.

One time, after the kind voice had visited and left and visited many times, it suddenly came closer. Things were pressed against him and he did not like that and tried to pull away as much as he could, but then they stopped. Kind Voice spoke from right in front of him for a long time and Patton tried to listen.

“Garden.”

He thought he liked that word. He wasn’t sure why.

He faded back to sleep with that word in his head.

Things were new but not new then as he was taken somewhere different and allowed to be there a lot of the time. The new place was familiar, but he had trouble clinging to why. It was easier to flicker in every so often when he was not tied down, just to see. Couch. Chair. Picture. Table. Plate. They weren’t really thoughts, just acknowledgments of things and a slight feeling of familiarity whenever he woke. They drifted away rather quickly.

Eventually, random things would drag him momentarily into consciousnesses with a real almost thought.

A piece of paper: I need to send that birthday card.

A dropped piece of cheese on the floor: I really should sweep up soon.

A spoon: No, I do NOT want the tomatoes.

The plant.

Plant?

But nothing really kept him there for long.

Armchair. Good. Soft. There was a clinking from the kitchen and Patton got to his feet, intrigued by whatever had made that, but something tugged him back when he got a couple of feet away. He turned on the thing in agitation, but then stopped short when his eyes landed on the plant in the corner.

Water the plants. It’s easy Patton. Water the plants. Did he water the plant in the corner? Water the plant. Why was he tied to his armchair? Plant.

Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant. Plant.

A sound, words, snapped him out of the looping. Then there was a smarting of pain and a crash. Then. Get. He bit back the bad instinct as he heard Kind Voice making displeased sounds under him.

Eventually things settled, the plant gone from his mind.

For a while.

Patton jerked back into consciousness abruptly as the bad instinct flared up more intensely than it ever had before. Prey, it seemed to say, and it is asleep. It is vulnerable.

Patton pulled back so hard on the instinct that he almost choked on it, and it dissolved away in his hands. It faded away completely for the first time in forever.

Patton came to with one arm outstretched and a knee on the bed. After a moment of just being there, he completed the motion he hadn’t started and softly touched the sleeping face in front of him with careful fingertips.

Logan.

Exhausted, he crumpled into their bed and was asleep in a matter of seconds.

Patton eventually started to linger nearer to the surface sometimes. He was not quite there, but at the same time something was there. If that thing was Patton, he wasn’t quite sure. It was a strange bridge between the nothing that was usually there and Patton. When there were distractions around, people moving and talking and touching him, he found himself slipping away in the confusion, but when all was quiet, and he was left along with nothing but fractures of thoughts…

His feet stumbled down the steps in the dark. Need to. Have to. Something. Something. Something.

Plant.

Water the plant.

It did not matter that the plant was no longer there, swept up after its pot was broken weeks before.

It was okay. It didn’t have to be there for Patton to pour water where it once was. Patton wasn’t really there either, after all.

There was a sweater on the back of the couch.

Do the laundry.

He took the sweater to the laundry room and put it in the washer. He pushed the button and was unconcerned when it didn’t make a sound.

…

Had he watered the plant?

Night.

Water the plant.

Laundry in the washer goes into the dryer.

Plant. Where is the plant?

…

Water the plant.

Get the laundry out of the dryer. Too tired to fold. It’s okay, he’ll be cold soon anyway. He’ll just put it down here on the couch... side table... chair.

Wait… whose hoodie is this?

Water the plant.

Again and again and again and again. Like a broken record: round and round. Sometimes he could almost figure out the puzzle before the pieces slipped away.

Patton had been upstairs, his mind drifting to the laundry, but the laundry basket wasn’t where it was supposed to be. He’d been staring at the place it should have been in the bathroom for hours, contemplating the empty space, when there was a loud bang from downstairs. Soon after, there were loud voices, a couple of which he did not recognize. He faded into the background a bit as he was drawn to the noises on instinct.

He didn’t stir again until one of the new voices spoke directly to him.

“Is there anyone alive in there?” a man Patton did not recognize asked. He looked angry and spiteful, but Patton was always good at seeing people’s emotions for what they really were. He was scared. He was scared of Patton, Patton somehow knew, and Patton had never liked people being scared of him. He expected Patton to hurt him, but Patton knew he wouldn’t even when he wasn’t really him anymore. Even if it took up what was left of himself to make it be so. Patton blinked to clear the fogginess at the edge of his vision and looked at the man in front of him.

Is there anyone alive in there?

Yes.

“Yes,” Patton said. Then, he was gone again.

Want to read more? Click below!

And There is an Answer

#sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #roman sanders #platonic moxiety #zombie au #angst #patton is a zombie #italop #adriana writes #gore #illness mentioned #character death #in a way

228 notes · View notes

bugabisous · 5 years

Text

signs that adrien “always felt [Marinette] was more than [a friend]” - or: don’t be salty, y’all, the chat blanc confession wasn’t just because she was ladybug. [part 5]

insta likes analysis | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

here i am, yet again, to ramble about my dumb son and his feelings for the one and only: marinette.

we left off the previous part talking about how important marinette is to adrien, and how he always wants her happiness and can’t stand to see her hurt. i’ll start this part with something a bit different, but that i love dearly about this dynamic, and i don’t see it mentioned very often...

buckle up because this one is by far the longest... and also the final one! let’s go!

during feast, when adrien plays the piano with plagg, we see him laughing and very happy, enjoying a moment of pure joy with him. afterwards, he remarks that his mom was “the only one who could make [him]laugh like that”

but guess what? we have seen him laugh this freely around marinette:

starting from this unforgettable moment during The Umbrella Scene. Look at that baby, he’s clearly full of joy. And moments after he sighs, full of wonder, about making yet another friend. that was one very important moment in adrien’s life. i believe this was probably one of his first moments of genuine connection around someone. he befriends nino earlier, but obviously this moment is way emotionally charged.

in oblivio, she still inspires this feeling of happiness in him. she makes him laugh. and it’s so wonderful.

and she does this even in moments where things are awkward (like in this scene where she stutters and gets so nervous she calls him lame lmao) or the following scene, which we know very well:

look at that ray of sunshine! look at the effect she has in him. he clearly enjoys her company a great deal.

him walking into the ice rink next to marinette and not next to the girl he’s actually on a date with.

adrien walking out next to marinette instead of, say, his best friend nino. (also, during this ep he really, really doesn’t get why marinette can’t hang out, and he’s clearly disappointed she’s not there because he wants to hang out with her).

oh well, let’s just say that’s just adrien being friends with her. sure. but you know what isn’t exactly just friends territory? the very next scene i’m going to mention.

so we’ve all watched frozer. we remember that moment when marinette runs to him, we get this Imagine Spot where she confesses to him and he confesses too, etc etc. right after, marinette switches tracks and says that they should hang out at the ice rink again.

“you mean, just you and me?” he asks, with a soft hopeful, downright longing expression in his face. this is not a reaction you have for a friend, i bet his heart was beating out of chest, i bet that for a moment there - even though he had no idea why - he suddenly couldn’t imagine anything better than hanging out one on one with marinette.

“no, of course not!” she says. and his expression isn’t suddenly that soft. he says he’ll try to make time, sure, but he clearly looked way more soft and hopeful in the frame before. interesting, isn’t it?

now, i’ll move on to analyze an episode that is not very well-liked in the fandom. and yes, i do agree that not showing the akuma battle was a bit lazy... and yes, it was a clipshow. but also, there were some important bits sprinkled in there that shouldn’t be missed because they’re pure gold. so, let’s talk about stormy weather 2.

when adrien considers the idea that perhaps marinette is the one who wrote the valentine’s card that he cherishes so much, he dismisses it... and the reasons why are fairly interesting, if a bit sad:

“marinette couldn’t possibly be in love with me,” is what he says. he says it sadly, his face is the picture of heartbreak. somehow the idea that she has no romantic feelings for him is something that saddens him this much. it also ties to adrien’s insecurities. the fandom loves to discuss marinette’s possible insecurities but sometimes adrien’s get ignored. his father doesn’t show him affection or love, his household is cold and unfeeling, and the girl he loves is in love with someone else. i believe that on some level adrien doesn’t think someone could fall in love with him (and i also believe this is a huge reason he does try things with k*gami: he enjoys her company, and thinks she’s beautiful and interesting and he sees the potential, sure. but also: she makes her interest in him very clear).

this scene brings me back to the s1 episode, gamer, where, after saying marinette is amazing, he says he’s “so lame compared to [her]” and that “[she] wouldn’t even need [him]”

he thinks marinette is awesome, amazing, talented, incredibly kind, an everyday hero and an all around wonderful person. in addition to that, she has denied a romantic interest in him when he asked about it. he doesn’t think it possible that marinette could have feelings for him other than friendship... if even that, considering that in puppeteer 2, another episode that gets a lot of bad rep in the fandom, he’s quick to believe that she doesn’t even want to be friends with him:

“marinette doesn’t want to be with me?”

look at his heartbroken face!! look at him. i’m so sad.

“i was afraid you didn’t like me.” this is very telling. because as we all know, marinette’s love language is actions... and adrien’s is words. that abysm (or, dare i say it, that wall) doesn’t allow adrien to see what is so obvious to everyone else.

“she’s just a friend who loves fashion,” he says, still looking troubled.

“besides...there’s l//uka.”

oh, boy. that sure doesn’t seem like a happy “phew i don’t have to break my friend’s heart by rejecting her” face. now, does it? adrien is clearly not happy about this situation.

why? because he has feelings for her. and, to be honest, a part of me could have just used the following two pictures to make the entire case i made in 5 parts... but where’s the fun in that?

“i’ve realized that you’re not just a friend to me. i always felt like you were more than that.”

“and now i know why. [...] it means that i love you.”

it’s the very same expression. the only differences between these screenshots are: a) the lightning, b) the fact that mayura’s is a bit more zoomed in, and c) the beret. other than that... no difference. because he is already totally in love with her, he just hasn’t realized it yet.

but he will.

in the season three finale, part 1, we see that adrien “finally realized that there’s more than one type of cheese in this world,” in plagg’s very eloquent words... right after he gets a notification from a post from marinette. sure, k*gami is there too. but the fact remains that heart hunter goes out of his way to balance out the time he spends with both of them.

he’s changing his target already.

when marinette says she has to leave, adrien jumps out inmediately, “no, wait!” and then k*gami invites her to “escape with [them]” - this is even more telling if you guys pay attention to the miraculous secrets videos that are uploaded in the official youtube channel. in “k*gami as seen by adrien” we have the following quote:

“maybe it’s time to change targets. we’re attending chl*e’s parents anniversary together soon. i guess we’ll see.” he says in it. and then proceeds to invite marinette along at any possible chance. why would he do that, if he’s trying to change targets if he didn’t have romantic feelings for her? let me tell you: he wouldn’t.

as we all know he looks awestruck by her. he just stops and stares.

look at that. he’s so in love is not even funny.

in this screenshot he’s only holding her hand.

and then during the infamous ice cream scene, which is his own idea by the way (he just chooses to drag two girls to get romantic ice cream after choosing to try to let ladybug go... he knows what he’s doing - k*gami might not exactly believe in the ice cream thing, but we know from glaciator that adrien does believe in it), both him and k*gami leave the choice in marinette’s hands. she’s the one that steps away.

and he’s not exactly thrilled to see her leave. a part of him was hoping she’d stay.

that is all, folks! i have no more to say... at least not until season 4. but i’ll end this final part with a cute picture because, well, i have to.

adrien is in love with marinette, pass it on.

#adrienette #adrinette #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous the tales of ladybug and chat noir #meta #mine

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bitchiha · 4 years

Text

A/N: I accidentally posted the request before I finished LOL. So I don’t know much about Tsundere relationships, but I did some reading on it just before I started writing and I hope I did the request some justice! Also I’m literally Kankuros bitch <3

Ps, I’m sorry I didn’t put a keep reading thingy idk how to do it on mobile and my trash laptop is broken 😭😭

Also I didnt include tobirama bc I absolutely hated how his turned out and I had to delete it im sorry 😖

✎ Tsundere relationship! (Hidan, Kank, Naruto)

Kankurō

Ahh, where to start? I think you’ll meet on a mission co partnered with the Leaf...

You and Shikamaru are sent to assist the Sand on a mission. Now, we already know Kankurō is a bit of a sassy mf when it comes to the Leaf like I think he whole heartedly believes the Sand is superior and you also have those feelings about your own village... So there’s an instant dislike for one another. Kinda like an instant rivalry.

Literally the first thing you say to him is “So, the Sand can’t take care of their own missions?” And that sets Kankurō off, “What, how dare you- ack! Temari, that hurt! I’m not gonna let her walk all over us like that, I’ll fight you right now you Leaf Village bi- ow! Temari!” Shikamaru has to hold you back LMFAOO you’re ready to throw hands “Huh, what’s that? Sounds like you’re really determined for me to kick your ass?” He lowkey liked when you said that to him lol.

Anyways, the two of you are bickering the whole entire way to the missions destination. You’ll tease eachother about anything and everything you can. So, once you find out about his puppet master jutsu its only natural that you fall on the floor with laughter. Like full on tears and strangled breathing. Now this is something you can really tease him about.

“What! You still play with dolls? I bet you have little sleep over parties with them and do their hair-“

You’re cut off because he tries to trap you in the Ant. Temari has to strangle him and force him to let you out. You’re lucky he didn’t iron maiden your ass LMFAOO.

This is the kind of the energy you guys carry whenever you see eachother from now on. He’ll see you more often too because you carry out a lot of Leaf and Sand allied missions and duties. Rip to anyone who gets put on a mission with you two tbh.

But on one particularly hard mission it ends up down to the two of you fighting off like 10 enemies. He’s trying to focus on fighting them, but he can’t stop thinking about if you’re okay. His distractedness earns him a particularly hard blow.

You end up having to fight off the remaining enemies yourself, all the while protecting him. The last thing he remembers is you screaming his name when he gets hit and the fear that was in your eyes at seeming him like that. It slowly turns to anger and then you kick the bad guys asses. He’s like half conscious but is laying there like: whatta bad bitch. Then he passes out.

Starts to really admire you after that and his comments aren’t as snarky when he sees you next. It’s more like little jabs and teases because that’s how he shows his affection, but they were no longer the hardcore roasts he’d dish out before. You probably stop flaming his ass too because let’s be real here; you’ve both obviously been attracted to each other from the start you just didn’t want to admit it.

Like cmon, he didn’t wait for you at the gates every single time he knew you were visiting just to insult you first. No. He came there to see your cute ass first!!Same goes for you, like you didn’t take all the missions to the Sand for nothing. You came there to see your fav hot headed puppet master.

He’ll ask you out a few months later, when you end up at the Sand again. Probably takes you to dinner before going back to his place. I 100% see him showing you his puppets and this time you’ll actually show your interest and not just tease him lol. Probably ends up making out with you on his workbench. Ok that’s all.

Naruto

You meet eachother for the first time at Ichirakus. Second to Naruto, you actually bring in the most cash for the place. So it’s surprising you two had never met each other before.

Until now of course. He’s just gotten back from a long mission and he’s dying for some ramen. He strolls right in and orders a miso pork ramen, but the old man tells him there’s no more pork left.

Probably flips his shit like who tf ate it all?? Then the old man points at you. You’re sitting there chowing down you’re literal 15th bowl, the giant stack of empty bowls next to you proving it. You watch the blondie charge right at you while you eat the last miso pork bowl of ramen for the day.

You put the bowl down and wipe your face just as he stops right infront of you, very close to your face. You can see the anger in his eyes, but you are not giving up. Also, the guy looks sorta comical so you basically laugh in his face which gets him more worked up.

“What are you laughing about? You just ate all of old mans pork for the day!! That last bowl is mine, believe it!” Once again you laugh in his face because you just can’t help yourself. Probably end up fist fighting eachother on the spot. Neither of you win because one of you ends up smashing into the bowl, sending it flying right at the old man. He kicks you both out, right after you pay your tab of course.

This arises a competition of who will eat all the miso pork ramen first, it goes on for a good few months. Ichirakus is swimming in your money now. Until one day, when you two arrive at Ichirakus at the same time. You basically have a show down. Unfortunately both your wallets are cleaned out and you can’t even pay off your bills anymore so you’re now indebted to the ramen place.

Narutos mission money won’t even cut it anymore and you can’t pay your debt off either. So you both have to get a job doing Ichirakus dishes until you can pay your debt off.

At first you two wanna strangle each other everytime youre in each others line of sight. But slowly — veryyyy slowly, you start to bond over your love for ramen. Like you can probably sniff the bowls before you clean them and tell instantly what ramen was eaten out of it.

You discover you both have the same favourite instant ramen, the same favourite Ichirakus order, etc... Then before you know it you actually start dating. Nobody knows how it happened because you were rivals for a good couple of months, but now all the sudden your holding hands while and eating ramen together peacefully. Mind blown.

Hidan

You’re a brand new Akatsuki member and you’re cute. Really cute. Not only was Deidara drooling over you too, Kakuzu just asked to file your taxes. Do you even do taxes? You’re a rouge ninja. Anyways, Hidan is so sure that Jashin would love to have you.

You two start taking to eachother and actually getting along pretty well, until he mentions Jashin. You shut him down so quickly after that. Like you’re not interested in his fake God, no matter how cute he is.

From then on he tries to ignore you or is just super petty towards you all the time. Like you just got back from a failed mission with your Akatsuki partner and he’s at the hideout mocking you like “if you prayed to Jashin with me this wouldn’t have happened.”

Literally so fucking petty.

Anytime you suggest an idea to the Akatsuki he immediately tears it down. It doesn’t really matter when he does though because nobody really listens to Hidan anyways, it’s just annoying.

You two get put on a mission together one day because Kakuzu has some important money buisness to take care of. Hidans so pissy about it, “oh come on! Out of everybody you picked y/n? She doesn’t even respect my religion, how are we supposed to work together!?” Kakuzu just looks at him and is like “Hidan, I don’t care about Jashin either.”

Butthurt the whole journey. If you guys get bombarded or run into trouble he probably doesn’t even bother backing you up. If anything he tries to feed you to them LMFAOOO. Such a jerk.

Then, once he thinks that all the bad guys are gone he turns to you all confidently because you got your ass whooped and he’s like “see, I bet if you prayed to Jashin you wouldn’t be injured this bad-“

An enemy just stabbed him right through the chest and he watches the look of shock on your face. That’s when he gets an idea. He falls on the floor super fucking dramatically and you have to take the last guy down for him.

Then you kneel next to him and cradle his body because yes he was such a petty bitch but he actually started to grow on you. So you cry and in this distressed moment you probably even attempted to pray to Jashin because you’re desperate as fuck.

This bitch really makes his eyes flutter open and is like; “y/n?” Really fucking plays off that he was unconscious, “Jashin... Jashin saved me.”

Your ass just got clowned but I mean you believe it because like he just got stabbed right through the heart. Even immortal people should die if they were stabbed in the heart, right? It seemed like it was the case.

So yah he basically just emotionally manipulated you into being semi interested in his religion.

Then he stops being petty with you and probably asks you to sleep with him as an offering to Jashin. “It’s only fitting! He just saved my life afterall.”

Literal definition of a sleeze bag <3

#naruto shippuden #naruto #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #hidan x reader #kankuro #hidan headcanons #anime headcanons

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Two Fathers

More writing stuff. Not sure how far I was going to take this since no one is really interested.

The Netherlands

The roar of the crowd thundered over into the bright blue sky over the soccer stadium. Dominic was so high up in the stands that the players looked like tiny puppets running about the green pitch, following the rolling white ball and sprinting after it in white and blue jerseys. The match was 0 and 0 for the entire game. The goalies on both sides were too good. Neither team could slip in and score no matter how they tried. The sun was beating down on the exhausted crowd who was ready for anyone to score at this point.

Dominic wiped his face on his shirt. Locally, he and his father were supposed to be rooting for the blue team. Not the white, but he really didn’t care. The important thing was being out having fun and sharing a beer with his dad on a summer day.

There wouldn’t be many more days like this. He’d gotten approved for a college in the UK and sitting in his room on the nightstand under a poster of a heavy metal band was a one way ticket to London. He had gotten a scholarship to study engineering and would spend the next eight years pursuing a doctorate. His hope was to become a civil engineer. His dream was to build and work on bridges. His father was an experienced crane operator. The idea of weight and balance and counterbalance fascinated him. And wouldn’t it be great if, after graduating, he and his father could work on the same project? The remotest possibility of that fantasy was a ways off. Even then, he would have to graduate early to make it out of college before his father retired.

The players charged towards the goal and the crowd roared encouragement, but again, the goalie caught the shot and the noise went down to a disappointed murmur.

Dominic’s father, a heavy set man in his early fifties, took him to games quite often. He was wearing a jersey for the team and a baseball cap that compressed his sweat soaked hair. He wiped his face with a cloth and stuffed it in his back pocket.

The weather was unseasonably hot. This wasn’t an area where most people were concerned about summer heat. In the past, if things got warm in the home, an open window and box fan would suffice. But now, the news was full of stories of the elderly suffering heat stroke in their homes and lying dead for days before they were found. In the city, venues like the soccer stadium were often the only relief from the heat. You could drive an hour out to get to the beach or thirty minutes in the other direction if you wanted to find a swimming pool. But in response to the heat wave, the soccer stadium enticed guests with free cups of ice and water and the soda fountains were a reduced price for season ticket holders.

However, the heat was starting to defeat even this strategy. Three times games were canceled because it was just too hot to be safe for the players. The result was a backlog of games, disappointed fans, and dodgy scheduling. If you didn’t have a ticket in advance, you would have a hard time getting one. People who had tickets for postponed games could redeem them for a future game. So now the empty seats were filled with fans who had missed games a week ago. When this game came up, his father was on the computer, spamming the refresh key until he managed to snag these seats. He kept them as a surprise.

The players filed out of the field for a brief time out. “All this trouble for a double-aught game.” Dominic said regretfully. “Did you want me to go get a refill?”.

He watched his father reach into his back pocket and pull out his cellphone and he saw his father’s eyes go wide. His face paled despite the summer heat. Dominic straightened in alarm. “What’s the matter?”

His father took one breath and then another. “There’s a problem.” He began and then stopped. “A big one. At work.”

“Are you serious? Ugh.” He rolled his eyes. “It really can’t wait?”

His father licked his lips and stared blankly at the empty field. His chest was rising and falling rapidly even though he wasn’t moving. A few more text messages came in but he didn’t look at them. He just put the phone into his back pocket, silent. It was like he had turned completely wooden.

“Are you alright…?” Dominic asked softly.

The man swallowed, his throat bobbing. He took a quick breath. “Yes. Well, then… I have to go.” He stood up, not looking his son in the eye.

“I’ll go with you!” Dominic rose but his father shook his head.

“No. I’ll order an Uber for you.” He wrote down quickly on the back of a white paper napkin. “Here is the license plate number. It will be a red car with tinted windows.”

His father gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry.” He said, before he hurried out of the stands and up the stairs.

The crowd of people, exhausted from the heat and the long game, filed out of the stadium. Dominic lifted his phone and checked for any missed calls or messages, but there were none. His father didn’t call him back or return his texts. His mother didn’t either. The stadium opened into a large plaza between it and the parking lot and lines of ice cream trucks had already started to attract customers. Normally, Dominic never would have passed up ice cream, but worry about what was going on at his father’s job kept him from joining the line.

The Uber ride should be waiting to take him home.

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, blazing a dull red thanks to the wild fires that were burning thousands of miles away. The crowd thinned as he got closer to the curb where the rideshare vehicles were permitted to idle and wait for their clients. Dominic scanned the vehicles for a red car and found it.

He briefly paused and checked the license plate.

“Dominic?” The man asked from the window.

He nodded. The driver got out and opened the backseat and then got back behind the wheel. Inside smelled of clean leather. It was cool, a welcome respite. “You know where I’m going?”

The driver had very broad shoulders and a square jaw and a short buzzcut of blonde hair. Despite the heat, he was wearing a blazer over his thin shirt.

“You’re in military training?” Dominic asked.

“You’ve got a sharp eye. Or is it that obvious?” The driver said as he turned the wheel of the car, carefully watching the road as they pulled away and started to drive through the expansive parking area full of gleaming cars. “I’m in the military now. Just making a bit of money while I’m on leave.”

“Military stipend not enough? Or does Uber really pay that well?” Dominic asked with a smirk. “Maybe I should sign up once I’m in London. For Uber I mean. Not the military.”

He looked down at his phone again. There were no calls and texts but now that he was in the air conditioned space, he realized that he had no signal at all. He tried to text but the error popped up telling him his texts were not sent. He sighed. “What’s wrong with this phone?”

He tried restarting it. He spent the time waiting for it to reboot staring out the windows at the line of people walking to their vehicles. A family with two children, one sleeping in a stroller and the other limp on his father’s shoulder, were getting into a minivan. The mother was on her phone. But when he looked down, his phone had restarted but once again had no signal. Maybe his dad had tried to call him but he was sitting on a dead phone all this time.

“Hey, can I use your phone?” He asked the driver.

“I’m afraid I can’t close the app or it will end the ride.” The driver said without looking back.

“Okay, I’ll get out and ask someone if I can use theirs.” They were already stopped in line to pay the toll to leave the parking lot, so he didn’t think anything of getting out to use someone else’s phone. But when he pulled the handle on the door, the door was stuck. “I think you have the child-lock on.”

The driver looked straight ahead, not acknowledging his words.

“Hey. Can you let me out?” The mother was getting into the van. She shut the door and the brake lights came on.

The man who was driving continued to look ahead, like he was some sort of robot and not responding to his commands.

“Hey! Can you not hear me? I said-...”

The man suddenly reached into his jacket and pulled out a black metal pistol. He pointed it at him without even turning around to look. The sight of the weapon sent a visceral fear through Dominic. He slammed himself against the door. “No! No!”

The muzzle flashed and something hit him. It stung, like a wasp sting he got at summer camp.

“He shot me… He shot…” Dominic moaned.

The man put the gun away and turned around like nothing happened. Dominic felt dizzy and light headed. He turned to the window but no longer had the strength to call for help. His eyes slid shut and his world went from darkness to nothingness.

Dominic opened his eyes in a panic, immediately asking where he was. His mouth tasted like blood, his hands were tied to a post. He was lying on a bed. A piece of cloth between his teeth was so tight that it stretched the corner of his mouth. It hurt and bled. He jerked hard and the restraints around his hands tightened.

“He’s awake.” A deep feminine voice attracted his attention. A woman in a black tightly woven combat suit stood up from a wooden chair that was placed against a stone foundation wall next to his bed. Her hair was dark and tied up in a ponytail at the nape of her neck that swayed between her shoulder blades as she walked. A black belt around her waist carried copper colored long, fang-like bullets. A long knife was at her hip. She wore black combat boots with thick treads that left a trail of wet tracks as she made her way to a door. She opened the door and a light lit up her face. Her nose was painted and long, her eyes dark and framed with thick lashes.

Above where she had sat was a thin dingy window covered with high grass. It was dark in this room save for the single bare yellow light bulb on the ceiling. His shirt was gone. His phone was gone. He gasped, struggling to breathe through his nose and around the cloth. He remembered being shot in the chest but he wasn’t even bleeding and there was no sign of any other wounds.

The man who had driven him and shot him cast a shadow as he walked in, swinging arms as thick as oak trees. He hadn’t noticed his eyes before, steely grey almost white. He was still in his cotton shirt but the jacket was gone and the holster was displayed with that same pistol. He pulled away until the zip ties bit into his wrists and his hands immediately became numb. He pulled and pulled as that man reached for his face. His thick fingers and cracked fingernails untied the gag. “Keep quiet and we won’t gag you.”

“What do you want? What … What do you want from me? My dad. He’s just a construction worker. He doesn’t have any money!” Dominic sobbed in fear. “Please. We don’t have any money!”

“Listen!” The man’s voice was sharp and cut through his panic. His face was inches from his and he could see a slight blond stubble and the remnants of a scar that crossed over his upper lip. That lip twisted in disgust revealing yellow teeth. His breath smelled like tobacco smoke. “The man you think is your father is not your father. That man ran away with you when you were young. We’re taking you back.”

“What?”

“He was assigned to care for you as a toddler and escaped. I suppose he let his feelings get in the way of his duties.” The man reached up and adjusted the restraints to allow blood flow again. “Don’t struggle so much. You’ll cut your hands off.”

“No, you’ve got the wrong person.” Dominic blinked away the sweat rolling into his eyes. The returning blood gave him pins and needles as it pulsed through his wrists. The gag had soaked up all the moisture in his mouth. His throat was so dry he could barely swallow. He called out in a hoarse voice. “This is a mistake. My father can prove it. Just let me call him. Just give me my phone. Let me call him!”

The man and the woman looked at him with calm pity while he was gasping in panic. The woman crossed her arms over her chest. They looked at each other and Dominic held his breath.

“Let him talk to his father.” A low voice came from outside the door. The two people straightened up, their spines upright and stiff and they turned in attention. Immediately, the woman walked to the other side of the room where Dominic’s phone was on a charger.

“My phone isn’t working…” Dominic sniffed, suddenly aware he was crying.

“Your phone is fine.” She said. Her voice was soft and gentle as she approached him. “We jammed it to keep you from being tracked.”

“Why?” He asked.

“I already told you.” She pressed his finger against the sensor to unlock the phone and scrolled down to his contacts. Then she held the phone to his ear.

The electronic sound of ringing could be heard through the earpiece and his mind raced. All he had to do was talk to his dad and he would clear all this up. But the phone just rang. As it did, another phone began to ring in the other room. It rang with his father’s ringtone, the song ‘Margaritaville.”

“Dad?!” His father’s phone was here? But he was supposed to have gone to work! Did they capture him here too? “Dad! You have to explain! Tell them… show them my papers!” He shouted at the door, towards the sound of the phone ringing.

Dominic looked at the woman desperately as she held the phone to his ear.

The deep voice from before echoed from outside the room. “Pick up the phone and talk to him. Tell him the truth.”

The phone picked up. He could hear his father’s voice both through the phone and in the other room, echoing each other. “Dominic. Are you hurt?”

“What is going on? Who are these people?”

The other end of the line was silent and no sound came from the other side of the room. Why wasn’t his father talking? He should be telling them that this is a mistake. He should be threatening them with legal action. He should be calling the cops. Why was he here? Were they holding him at gunpoint?

“You’re going to get through this…” His father’s voice was soft and soothing. Even in this terrifying circumstance where he’d been shot, bound, and gagged, that voice slowed his breathing.

“Dad. Tell them. Tell them, they’ve got it wrong…” More silence greeted him and his eyes wildly scanned the room. “Where’s mom. Do they have mom?!”

“Your mother is fine. She’s at home. Listen to me. No matter what… you’re my boy. Even if we’re not related by blood.”

Dominic’s panic increased and his voice cracked. “No. No you… you have to tell them. Did they threaten you? Do they have a gun to your head?! Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying.”

“But you… you… you took me to the passport office, we… showed them the birth certificate.” The memory of the birth certificate came to his mind as clear as day. “Your name and Mom’s name was on it. Dad, what are you saying!” His teeth clenched and chattered. Their names were on the birth certificate. That memory was what he clung to as his world was coming apart.

“The birth certificate was falsified. It was a fake document.” His father said.

Dominic refused to believe that. His father had to be bluffing. He had to be buying time. On crime shows, experts say you should cooperate with captors until the police could be called right? The police were on their way. So long as he cooperated, the situation would not get worse and he would be rescued. He had to stay calm. “Right… a fake document.” He said. “Of course.”

He glanced at the woman. Her lips lifted in a slight smile but her eyes were sad. She huffed.

Even the burly man chuckled to himself. “You’re pretending to accept it to cooperate right? Your father is serious. It is a fake document.”

Dominics heart slammed against his chest but he took a deep breath. He lowered his eyes.

“Say goodbye to him.” The woman said.

Dominic didn’t want to say that because this wasn’t real. If he said goodbye, they might shoot his dad. “Um… Dad. So… when I was a toddler, you stole me right?” He asked, glancing at the woman who was still smiling. She gave a little shake of her head.

His father answered. “I knew who these people were when I accepted the job. I had a job to do. Raise you until you are old enough and then let them take you. But… remember when you were at summer camp and we dropped you in the woods?”

Dominic did remember. “Yeah… the time I got attacked by the deer?”

He was only eleven then, but there was a tradition where young people at that age could be blindfolded, driven off into the woods and dropped off. They were given some supplies and told to walk their way back completely unsupervised. It was considered a right of passage. It was never good for a young child to be too dependent on their parents. Their parents weren’t powerful omnipotent all-knowing beings. Even at the age of eleven, a child had to know for themselves right and wrong, right from left. They needed to look at their parents and take their words with a grain of salt. Being without his father’s protection for the first time in those dark woods terrified him. When the deer burst from the underbrush, galloping straight at him, he screamed. The deer wasn’t attacking him. He’d just startled it.

Using the map and the GPS device, he’d found his way out of the woods. The feeling of seeing his father in the clearing, smiling proudly at him, his son, was a feeling he would never forget. After that, he realized that if he let go of his father’s hand, he could stand on his own and not die. He became a bold, independent youngster.

“Right. That was when they were supposed to take you.” His father said.

“But they didn’t take me.” He said.

“No. That’s because the GPS coordinates I gave you took you away from them. Remember, right after that? We moved across the country.”

A feeling, cold like ice, began to run through his veins. Dominic’s eyes shifted from the woman who held up the phone for him to the other man’s face, to the light coming through the door where his father was. “But… you got transferred. It was a work transfer.”

“I was running away. With you.”

Dominic sighed, remembering this was a script. This was made up. They had guns to his father’s head. He was surrounded. If his father didn’t say these things, they would shoot him. “Right. But you’re giving me up now so you’ll be okay, right? They’re not going to shoot you, right?”

The man and woman looking over him exchanged glances.

“Don’t shoot him. Please… Please!” Dominic begged.

The deep strange voice that commanded the two people in front of him came again. “If you agree to come peacefully with us, we will not shoot him. This man and his wife will live out the rest of their lives in peace so long as you cooperate.”

“Me?” Dominic asked. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave. But if his father was alive, then he could call for rescue. “Okay. I’ll go. Just let him go!”

The phone on his ear disconnected.

“Untie him.” The voice came again. “Let’s go.”

The man and woman undid his restraints and helped him off the bed. They kept their hands on his arms as they escorted him barefoot out of the room where he was held. When he stepped into the light, he was shocked to find that there were no gunmen. His father wasn’t tied to a chair. He was standing, still in the blue soccer outfit, with his baseball cap in his hands. He’d never seen his father look so shrunken.

The man with the deep voice was sitting there, with a gun on a small table, one leg crossed over the other. He looked to be about the same age as his father, but was strongly muscled like the man with the buzzcut hair. The tan suit was fitted to his muscular frame with a white shirt, khaki pants and brown shoes. He spun a silver wooden cane in one hand. He leaned on this cane as he stood up. A golden chain arced from his breast pocket. He reached in and looked at the time before leaning on the cane to stand up.

This man rested his hand on his father’s shoulder. “That wasn’t so hard. Was it?”

His father’s hand suddenly moved to the man’s side, gripping the hilt of a knife, buried in that man’s side. “Dominic! Run!”

Dominic sprinted toward the exit, a stairway leading to a door. The door was like the stairway to heaven, the stairway to freedom, leading him away from this nightmare. He was lucky! The people standing next to him hadn’t grabbed him! He just needed to be fast enough!

His vision suddenly burst white. His feet left the ground and his shoulder collided hard with it. Pain silenced his voice and he could only grip his shoulder in agony. A heavy shoe pushed him to his back. The man with the cane was standing over him. Dominic had never seen such a cruel gleeful smile. Even though blood was spreading throughout the tailored suit from the stab wound, it didn’t affect him.

He reached down and his hand closed like a vice over Dominic’s arm. He picked him up to his feet and shoved him staggering back. He now rested the cane on his shoulder. It was clear he didn’t need it to walk.

Dominic’s ears were ringing and he realized he must have hit him in the head with the cane. The two people who had been standing guard over him made no move to interfere. Dominic looked to where his father was and found him doubled over, clutching his hand in pain. The knife was on the ground, but Dominic didn’t remember seeing his father get hurt.

“I said, if you cooperate… I’ll let him live.” The man lightly tapped the cane against his shoulder and looked at him with eyes like burning twin coals. The sight of those golden eyes sent a shock through him but they quickly extinguished themselves from burning bright to cold black.

“What are you… you’re a vampire?” Dominic whispered. “An alien?”

“Yes… and no.” The man said patiently. “You’ll find out all these things once you come with me.”

“Dad?” He looked at his father, desperate for direction.

His father could only shiver in pain, holding his hand. “I am still… your father. Don’t forget that. Go with him.”

“He can’t protect you.” The man with the cane shifted his gaze to focus over Dominic’s shoulder. “But those two, they can. They will be your guard on your journey.”

Dominic looked over his shoulder at them. They stood, resolute, like soldiers at attention. “No this isn’t true!” Dominic didn’t care about what his father said now. He couldn’t go with them. If he left with them, he could never go back.�� “No. No!”

He didn’t know much hand to hand at all beyond what he’d learned briefly when a self-defense instructor came to the camp. The instructor said always go for the crotch or the shins or the neck. These were places where even the weakest person could inflict disabling blows.

His knee rushed up to the man’s crotch but never made it. That cane slammed on his knee. Pain crashed into his brain and he collapsed to the floor, howling, rolling, unable to think or breathe.

The cane cracked again against his ribs and he curled up to defend himself againt further blows. His father’s voice sounded. “Stop! Stop!”

“Shoot him.” The voice from the man with the cane was a cold command.

“No!” Dominic sat up only to be brought low again with a blow to his back, right above his kidneys. He fell again. It hurt so much he couldn’t move, he could only gape like a fish out of water, tears leaking from his wide open eyes.

His father covered his face with both hands, sobbing into them against the wall. The gun was still on the table. No one had reached for it.

“Are you ready to cooperate now?” The man with the cane said.

All resistance left Dominic. His father didn’t get up to defend him. He couldn’t run away or fight. The police weren’t coming. “It’s okay… we’ll get through this…” Dominic said quietly.

“Get him up. Let’s go.”

The two people described as his guard ignored his father and helped him up. He couldn’t take his eyes off his dad who leaned on the wall. His father’s hands lowered from his eyes and their eyes met for the last time. They were red rimmed and desperate, swimming with tears. They weren’t resolute. They had no hope. Looking into those eyes, Dominic understood that the truth didn’t matter. Maybe he was his father, maybe he wasn’t. In the end, there was nothing either of them could do.

#Dragon Raja

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