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carriesthewind · 7 months ago

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Alright, so now that I’m slightly calmer:

This thread sucks.

The most important way that it sucks is, obviously and as previously stated, the Fucking Audacity of This Man. Especially because, in lecturing people about how to take responsibility, he completely fails to actually take responsibility for any of his actions. Notably, although he calls himself a “former very shitty person,” his “naked” thread fails entirely to mention the actual horrific shit he did.

Without context (which his twitter followers presumably mostly do not have), the natural reading of this thread is that all of Andy’s “shitty” behavior was lying and making excuses about work that he half-assed and procrastinated on because of his ADHD. I do not believe that people who have done terrible things need to be constantly bringing them up and apologizing for them. But calling this a “naked thread” about his past mistakes and what he’s learned from them only serves as a continuation of his pattern of glossing over and refusing to take actual responsibility for his past.

This is made all the more offensive by the last few tweets in the thread. He (correctly) identifies that sometimes people will feel compelled to apologize for and justify their behavior when they didn’t do anything wrong. He again (correctly) identifies that this behavior can have many causes. He carefully does not state, but (correctly) implies that one of the reasons for this behavior can be because the person apologizing is a victim of domestic abuse. Then, with full plausible deniability, he does not state, but very clearly implies, that his past bad behavior was because he was the victim of domestic abuse.

This is unconscionable. One of his long-running narratives has been that everything bad he did with Bit of Earth was to please Abbey, because he was so afraid of disappointing her. The fact that he is continuing this narrative is outrageous. That fact that he does it in such a way to (continue) to imply that he is the real victim, especially in the context of a thread allegedly about taking responsibility, reveals that he is still the same “very shitty person.”

With all that said, even if we take this thread at face value, ignoring all of Andy’s history: it still sucks. Like his many regurgitated social justice takes, the framework of the discussion is correct. And it’s a topic that I really care about: the distinction between reasons and excuses (or as I prefer, explanations and excuses), what it means to take responsibility, how to apologize, how to move on and improve, especially when the explanation for a harmful behavior is related, at least in part, to mental illness/disability/neurodivergence. Broadly speaking, Andy isn’t wrong…but in the particulars, he is (offensively) wrong in some very important ways. It’s like his old traced art. He isn’t saying anything original, but instead tracing over the work and explanations other people have provided to match his fandom self-serving narrative. But because he is only tracing, recreating the aesthetics, he reveals he doesn’t understand (or care to convey) the underlying anatomy of the argument. That process leads to fundamental flaws in his final project. But unlike bad art, here he is arguably doing something more dangerous: providing advice on really important, and sensitive, topics.

As some personal context, I am autistic, but was not diagnosed until my mid-twenties. As a result, I didn't learn appropriate strategies to deal with…well, a ton of stuff. Because of this, there was a substantial period of my life where I had frequent screaming meltdowns. I did not have the tools to mitigate or even recognize them for what they were. Often, the advice and tools I was given (by genuinely well-meaning people who had no reason to know any better themselves) just made things worse.

If you have never been around someone having a screaming meltdown, it isn't a fun time. Suffice it to say, I have some experience with unintentionally hurting other people. Experience with needing to apologize, and learning how to do it meaningfully. With having to learn to understand and navigate the differences between explanations and excuses, especially in the context of a disability that I did not even understand I had. With taking responsibility (or failing to take responsibility), of understanding and improving myself. And with being taken advantage of, with having intention and malice grafted onto me, of having people decide that I could be denied boundaries or help or agency or compassion because they refused to believe my explanations were anything but excuses, that because I couldn't "be normal," I must not be taking responsibility.

So I care about this a lot.

I’m going to start with the thing I find most personally upsetting in this thread. Namely, Andy’s statement that "Even during a meltdown, panic attack, or psychotic episode, ppl make choices they are responsible for." As I understand it, Andy is not autistic and has never had (or claimed to have had) an autistic meltdown. And so kindly: FUCK OFF speaking about things you have no experience or expertise in.*

*(I cannot speak to the experience of having a psychotic episode, but I would not be surprised if he is being wrong about those too.)

Am I responsible for what I do during a meltdown? Yes (for reasons which I will discuss more below). But that’s not because I’m making choices.

In my experience, meltdowns aren’t uniform, so it’s not that I never have any control. But my control and ability to make choices - much less rational choices - is severely limited even at the outer edge of a meltdown. And if it gets bad enough, I essentially loose all control.

For example: when I am melting down, I will bite and scratch myself. I do not choose to do this. I have very limited control over it. One time (post-diagnosis), I was on an airplane and started to have a meltdown. I employed every trick I had to not bite or scratch myself because I was very scared that doing that kind of visible non-typical behavior on an airplane could lead to Very Bad Results. Because I did not fully disintegrate into a meltdown, I was able to stop myself from biting or scratching. And I was so proud! I was able to keep control of myself!

That pride lasted until I got home, and saw my forehead. I thought I had been hugging my knees the whole flight to keep control. In reality, I had been bashing my head against my knees until my entire forehead was red and bruised. I hadn’t been in control. I hadn’t even been able to notice what I was doing.

So yeah, I take some real personal fucking offense to this asshole pretending to be an expert lecturing me about the “choices” I am making during a meltdown.

Instead, I do what I can to mitigate things in advance. Generally speaking, I try to make sure I can recognize and divert a meltdown before it begins. Failing that, I have learned how to mitigate them so I loose as little control as possible. I keep my surroundings as tightly controlled as I can, plan out pathways to isolate myself as quickly and as simply as possible if necessary, avoid situations that are likely to trigger a meltdown. It doesn't always work, but I have them very rarely now, and almost never to the degree I had them when I was younger.

Because, as I said above, I am responsible for things that I do in a meltdown, even though they are rarely choices, even when I have a good explanation AND a good excuse. Because ultimately I am the person doing them. And even when I am not in control, if someone gets hurt because of my actions, the passive voice is a lie - I still hurt them. And because I can’t control what I do in a meltdown, I can - and must - make the choice to do my best to control and mitigate them in advance, so I don’t get to the point where I hurt other people.

And THAT’S where Andy really goes wrong in this thread.

First, he fucks things up where he says that an excuse is “the opposite of taking responsibility” because it “absolves you.” He says this because Andy does not actually understand (or care to understand) the distinction between excuses, explanations, and responsibility. An explanation may completely absolve the person of any wrongdoing, but the person can still take responsibility. Consider the example of an excuse Andy gives. “There was a total highway shutdown.” He says this would be meant to convey that you are not responsible. But that’s not necessarily true. Let’s imagine you are saying the statement “there was a total highway shutdown” to explain why you weren’t able to attend an event that was important to someone else. You would not be at fault. You wouldn’t have done anything wrong. But you still might recognize that the person was harmed by your absence, however unintentional. And you might consider it your responsibility to find some way to make it up to the person. And providing the person with the explanation of what happened - making sure they understood you didn’t intentionally not attend, that it was outside your control and you would have been there if you could - would be part of taking responsibility!

This is because taking responsibility isn’t (just) about personal guilt, motivation, or control. It is about the harm that another person suffers, even if it isn’t your “fault.” I am responsible for the harm I did to others with my meltdowns, even before I had any way to control or understand them and was acting with the best abilities I had. (And likewise, the people who overrode my boundaries and triggered or worsened my meltdowns are responsible for the harm they did to me, even when they didn’t mean to hurt me and were doing their best to help with the information they had.)

Andy, in his aesthetic regurgitation of responsibility, recognizes the outlines of this principle, which is why he says even if your behavior is caused by mental health issues, you still have to do the work and stop doing the bad behavior. But he doesn’t actually understand it.

Consider the example of a “reason” that Andy provides. “I’m sorry I broke it, I didn’t see it there.” But this sentence could be offered as either an explanation accompanied by a taking of responsibility, or as just an absolving excuse. There are plenty of explanations for why “I didn’t see it” that wouldn’t be my fault. There is no suggestion of either fault or of taking responsibly in the sentence. The only difference between this example and his example of an “excuse” is that he tacks on an “I’m sorry” at the beginning. But simply saying “I’m sorry” (while often an important element) doesn’t actually mean someone is actually taking responsibility.

(This is a bit of a side issue, but his panic attack example is also bizarre and demonstrates a lack of understanding of the issues. Mostly because the relevance of the panic attack in the apology depends on what “I called you,” and in what context. If you call someone a slur, for example, because you didn’t realize it was a slur, the panic attack is irrelevant, but the explanation that you didn’t realize it was a slur is actually pretty important to the apology, so the person knows that you were acting in ignorance, not malice or disrespect. If you intentionally say something cruel or dismissive, the panic attack is irrelevant; what is important is the deliberate action to hurt the other person. If you would never normally say something cruel but the panic attack motivated you to act in unusual ways, addressing the panic attacks would be an important part of taking responsibility to make sure it never happened again, and so might be part of the apology to explain what steps you are taking. But taking responsibility would still mean, first and foremost, recognizing and addressing why you were willing to engage in cruelty. However, if you were having a panic attack and your brain and mouth weren’t working in conjunction so words got smashed together and you said something insulting or inappropriate without meaning to, then the explanation of what happened is a critical part of the apology, so that the person knows you don’t actually think or mean the insulting or inappropriate thing. The fact that Andy is apparently either uninterested in or unable to recognize these distinctions is evidence 1) that he has no business giving advice on this topic and 2) that he doesn’t actually care about the harm to other people. The importance of knowing what exactly “I called you,” and the context in which it was said, is immediately obvious if you are centering harm. Because that’s the actual harm! Andy is not centering harm. His version of “taking responsibility” focuses solely on the aesthetics of apologies and responsibility, not the actual work.)

And the biggest example of his failure to understand what taking responsibility actually means comes, of course, in the context of excusing his own bad behavior. He says that his “ADHD makes it easy to procrastinate and half-ass work,” and that before he learned how his brain worked, he lied and made excuses about it. This is, within the context of the thread, the version of his history he wants to present to his audience. This is the thing that made him a “very shitty person.” But hey! Failing to complete work - or completing it badly - because of ADHD is not (necessarily) shitty. Lying and making excuses about it was bad, but maxes out (in the scenario he is presenting) at not taking appropriate responsibility (and also he was scared and had reasons and therefore it wasn't not really his fault). And certainly apologizing, paying refunds, and accepting lost opportunities is not shitty behavior. In the context of his behavior that he describes in this thread, the actual really shitty thing he did was continuing to take commissions and promise work when he knew he had a problem, when he knew (or should have known) he would not be able to complete the work as promised and commissioned.

To wrap things back around to the personal context I began with - as I said above, for a long time I didn’t know I was autistic, and I had no ability to mitigate or even recognize my meltdowns. But in my early twenties, I started to realize that there were some patterns to my meltdowns, and that there were things I could avoid or do to mitigate them. And more importantly, things I could do mitigate their effect on the people around me. And sometimes I would choose not to avoid things even when I knew there was a greater risk of it triggering a meltdown, putting other people at risk of harm, because I was selfish and willing to prioritize my wants or needs over others. Or (both before and during this time) there were times I failed to properly apologize to people I hurt, because I didn’t feel like I knew how (and didn’t bother to make the effort to try to figure it out), or I was scared of addressing it head on (putting my anxiety above the other person’s hurt), or angry because the other person had pushed past my boundaries but weren’t willing or able to admit they had hurt me too (as if the harm they did to me somehow canceled out the harm I did to them, removing my responsibility in the process). It was and is not shitty of me to have meltdowns - they are outside my control. But failing to do what I could to mitigate the harm in advance? Failing to apologize properly afterwords? All of those were shitty behaviors.

That doesn’t mean I was a bad person. I made some mistakes and I made a few selfish choices. And part of taking responsibility was realizing what I was doing wrong, and stopping doing it. One correct thing Andy says is that everyone has done shitty things. We all make mistakes, we all act selfishly. And I am going to guess every single person has, or will, spectacularly failed to apologize at least once in their life. But part of doing the work, of learning and growing, has to be recognizing what you ACTUALLY did wrong.

Even within his own framing in this thread, Andy fails to recognize or take responsibility for what he actually did wrong in the context of his failing to complete work properly because of his ADHD. He doesn’t admit to knowingly over-promising. Instead, he solely blames his ADHD for causing him to fail to deliver in each individual case. He aesthetically frames his ADHD as an explanation because he says “That’s on me, ADHD or not.” But just like his example of “I’m sorry I broke it, I didn’t see it there,” in practice, his ADHD functions as excuse with a perfunctory apology tacked on, because it was outside of his control until he “understood how [his] brain worked.” There is no reason to believe he wouldn’t engage in the same bad behavior going forward, because he refuses to actually take responsibility. For example, he’s currently offering a bunch of costuming services while he is out of regular work due to long COVID. But what trust can people have that he’s not over-promising now, when he fails to acknowledge he was doing anything wrong by over-promising before?

And finally, Andy caps off his failure to understand these issues or to convey them appropriately by repeatedly referring to people as “shitty people” rather than people engaging in shitty behaviors.

There are absolutely contexts in which it isn’t a problem to refer to others or to oneself as a shitty person. You may notice, for example, that I did it right before the cut in this post, to make a point by using Andy’s own language and descriptors of himself. However, one time it is not appropriate to refer to individuals as a “shitty person” is in the context of THIS thread, a thread ostensibly as least partially about why it’s wrong to just say you’re inherently a shitty person when you do bad things. Andy repeatedly criticizes people who say, “because I suck” or “I guess I’m just fucked then” when they make a mistake. He says that sentiments like this are the reason he made the thread. That people have the ability and responsibility to change their behavior. Which is true! I agree with him there!

But the idea that some people are “shitty people” contributes directly to the thought processes he criticizes. It frames people who do shitty things as a kind of person, rather than people who engage in certain types of behavior. The idea that the world is divided into “shitty” and “not shitty” people can make it harder for people to recognize the harm they have done and take responsibility. After all, if the explanation for your behavior is not an excuse, if you did something bad, doesn’t that make you a “shitty person”? So there can be an unconscious incentive to reach for excuses, to absolve yourself of blame - which in Andy’s conception also means absolving yourself of responsibility.

I sincerely hope none of Andy’s twitter followers take this thread to heart. Or to the extent that they do, I hope they are able to extract the truth from Andy’s borrowed aesthetics and reconstitute the regurgitated valuable elements. And as always, I hope there are no vulnerable people following him that will see him as a trustworthy source of expertise and guidance.

Andy, who is well known for his fauxpologies, lectures people on how to apologize and take responsibility for their actions without making excuses.

#content warning for below the cut:#descriptions of (unintentional) self-harm #thanfiction #little tin cults #Andy may have stopped cosplaying as characters from popular fandoms #unfortunately he has not stopped cosplaying as someone actually willing to take responsibility for his actions #i have spent so much goddam time and energy trying to work through this shit #and This Fucking Guy #has the fucking audacity #to pretend he has done the work #when he won't even admit what he actually did

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shirebarbie · 3 years ago

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[Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader] Is That a Challenge (pt. 2)

a/n: here it is, another part! i am so glad you liked the first one and i honestly can’t believe you wanted to read more! hope this will do it justice :) let me know!

summary + setting: everyone is still an emotional mess as important topics and feelings are discussed in Anthony’s room (I know it was kinda forbidden!! let me be). no particular warnings.

FIND PART 1 HERE

[Y/N] squinted, looking over Anthony’s shoulder as she held him close, and she managed to read the numbers engraved onto his father’s grave – today was the anniversary of his death. She wished they had not ventured so far onto the grounds, no matter how much they had been caught up in their quarrel. With each passing year, she was becoming more and more aware of the pressure Anthony was feeling as the head of house, still without a lady, and she wanted to scold herself for not considering today’s date and taking another path on their walk.

Anthony was still wrapped up in her arms, crying without a sound, only a tremor in his shoulders. Outside it was getting darker and colder, but Anthony didn’t yet seem to be feeling better. It was as though the weight of all of his feelings was crashing down on him simultaneously – the good and the bad, the romantic and the tragic.

“Perhaps we should get you to your room, alright?” [Y/N] muttered into his hair as she rubbed his back. “We can talk about everything when you are warm and comfortable.”

In response Anthony sniffed, moving away from the woman holding him. In her eyes he could read the mirrored sadness of his own, wishing to take it away at once and bring her dazzling smile back to her face, but he knew [Y/N] well enough to know she would tell him something among the lines of “It is perfectly fine to feel things.”

He enveloped her smaller hand with his as they started walking towards the house. Both of them assumed the family would be looking for them, but somehow that was unimportant at the moment.

“I want you to stay with me, in my chambers” Anthony admitted quietly, looking down at the ground as they walked. He sniffed again. “I know it is extremely inappropriate, and I really do not wish to drag you into any sort of scandal, but I just need-“

“I think just being a friend of yours for more than twenty years is scandalous enough, how much worse can it get?” [Y/N] joked, hoping it would make him smile; and it did, if only for a fleeting moment.

“You are right, indeed,” Anthony smiled and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. “Does that mean you will stay?”

“Of course I am staying, Anthony! I really cannot leave you alone, not today,” the girl said earnestly. “You mean way too much to me.”

Very soon, the two of them managed to sneak into Anthony’s room. They only passed by one other person by accident, and it was Violet Bridgerton. No words were spoken between the three of them – his mother knew him too well, after all. Everything that it took was for her to look at her eldest all disheveled and downhearted to understand the situation. The woman just nodded at the pair and went to her own room for the night.

Anthony all but dived into the heap of blankets and pillows on his bed, making [Y/N] giggle at his antics.

“At least take off your coat and boots,” she scolded him, making him turn his head swiftly to face her.

“You just want to see me with no clothes on, Lady [last name], am I right?” his eyebrow quirked upwards, mood obviously improving.

“Well, yes, but not right now,” she caressed his cheek as he leaned in closer, breathing in her familiar and comforting scent. In spite of all the burdens he was carrying, and how strict he was to himself, [Y/N] was perhaps the only person he could completely relax around. Somehow… it felt like home. “Go on now,” she broke the moment, her own heart thumping against her ribcage, “I will go and make us some tea. And try not to get caught.”

When [Y/N] returned, as quietly as possible, with two cups of steaming tea, Anthony was wearing his night shirt and he was sitting on the bed wrapped up in a duvet all the way up to his nose.

“Is this how a gentleman is to sit in the presence of a lady?” she inquired with a mischievous tone. “I had thought better of you, Viscount Bridgerton.” The girl smiled as she took in the sight of the man she loved, in a very unusual setting. As she handed one cup to Anthony, their fingers brushed.

“In my humble opinion, we are way past being a gentleman and a lady around each other,” Anthony looked at his tea and then back at [Y/N]. “Thank you for this.”

“It was nothing, really. We do not need you to catch a cough just because I got so carried away yelling at you, and then we walked so far,” [Y/N] bowed her head, exhaling shakily. “I am so sorry about all of this,” she admitted in a quiet voice, holding her cup with both hands to warm them up; although her cheeks were burning in such a close proximity to a very handsome man.

“No, [Y/N], please, no apologies are necessary,” Anthony immediately spoke up. “If anyone should be the one doing that, it would be me.” Every time her name spilled over his lips, [Y/N] almost shivered. It sounded so wonderful in his deep voice.

“Anthony… it is completely normal to feel things. Especially here, in the countryside, during this time of the year for you. Allow yourself to feel and process all of that.”

She took his silence as a sign to continue, as he started to sip his tea.

“I know it is incredibly difficult for you to talk about that- that tragedy, and I know what you have gone through, but perhaps it would help you if you allowed yourself to confide in someone, if you allowed yourself to feel sad, angry, lonely, worried about the future, anything.” [Y/N] set aside her cup and sat on the bed in a similar fashion to Anthony.

“I just want the best for you, I just want you to feel better, because burying those emotions under the carpet is not going to be a long-term solution, Anthony,” she sighed heavily, trying not to get caught up in her feelings as she was trying to talk about a serious topic.

“It is just… so difficult to reminisce those days, [Y/N],” the brown-eyed man confessed, having finished his tea. “Sometimes I feel as though my body and mind were in complete shock for weeks, blocking me from remembering any of it, and other days I can recall every single moment of pain and uncertainty.” Anthony looked away towards the large windows of his room, a massive weight sitting on his chest. The duvet he was covering himself with had fallen from his shoulders onto his lap.

“Even if I wanted to, I do not even know how to talk about it, I-I have never even done that with anyone,” he took a ragged breath, “not even my mother, who, better than anyone else, knows how it felt.” For the second time that turbulent day, Anthony felt his breathing getting out of control and he quickly buried his face in his hands, shoulders rising with each intake of air. [Y/N] reacted instantly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists gently and leading him up from the bed towards the bench under the open windows. Anthony gave her a grateful half smile as he attempted to compose himself yet again, still upset that he couldn’t hold it all together.

“I cannot talk about that with anyone, but…” his tired, teary eyes travelled from the night sky through the window to the girl in front of him, “I could try with you. You understand me, [Y/N]. You understand me in ways I have never even thought possible.”

“I love you,” she breathed out.

“You…love me?” Anthony’s eyes widened, his full attention on [Y/N] – as if she hadn’t called him “my love” mere hours ago.

“Anthony, I adore you.”

His lips formed different shapes and letters, but no words came out. However, in his eyes she could read all the joy at her confession.

“At long last, I have left the Viscount Bridgerton speechless,” [Y/N] laughed softly, enjoying every expression on his face. “Now I have truly lived through everything.”

The girl’s laughter was soon joined by Anthony laughing loudly and genuinely, for the first time in God knows how long. How was it possible for his mood to improve in such a short time around this person? He was bewitched, body and soul.

Somewhere during the short laughing fit, their fingers found their way to each other’s and they got intertwined. As the laughter died down, both of them were left slightly panting, [Y/N] even wiped away a happy tear.

“I do not think you have lived through everything yet,” Anthony murmured lowly as he gradually leaned in towards [Y/N]’s face. His voice, his eyes, his scent were so hypnotic, and after twentysomething years of yearning for this man, and this man only, [Y/N] finally threw caution to the wind and connected her lips with Anthony’s.

Their first kiss was slow, but so passionate and charged with the intensity of their feelings for each other. Anthony was cradling [Y/N]’s face between his rough hands as their lips parted, noses brushing against one another. A blissful, breathless moment both of them had been waiting for, pretty much their entire lives. And finally, after a day of emotional rollercoasters, their daydreams finally turned into reality.

“You have not lived through being my wife yet, Lady [Y/N],” Anthony smiled suggestively, still unwilling to move away from her face.

“Is that a challenge?” her lips quirked into a little smirk as she delicately ran her fingers up his arms, making him shiver.

“Maybe so,” Anthony pressed a chaste kiss against [Y/N]’s lips. “And if I know you well enough – which I do like to believe – you have never been the one to shy away from a good challenge.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #viscount bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #violet bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #kate sharma #edwina sharma

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gar-trek · 3 years ago

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I review killing time (or whatever)

Okay, yes this review has taken me forever and that’s because there’s so much I want to say, and most of it has very little to do with the plot of the book. I cut down a lot of this so you guys could just get to the main point of what I’m trying to say, so I apologize if this is a little brief or incomprehensible to those who haven’t read the book.

And also, before I get into it, I would like to say rest in peace to the author Della Van Hise, who passed away in march of this year. She contributed a lot to the fandom, especially in regards to K/S fiction, as well as publishing a lot of non-trek related work during her life.

First of all, if you have heard of Killing Time, there is probably one specific reason for that. It’s the same reason I picked up the book in the first place and why it’s really even a topic of discussion on this site. To put the story quite briefly, Killing Time was recalled during its initial release on account of the book having too many slash elements (aka, the relationship between Kirk and Spock could be read as sexual/romantic). I first heard about the book here in this post where the history of it is worded to sound like one very dramatic mystery. One user (no shade intended here) even goes as far as to say the book was recalled by old Gene himself! Now I’m always one for drama and such, but after reading the book I looked into it a little more, and I don’t think that’s exactly how it went down.

Here you can find multiple statements from the author herself, in which she tells the whole story. According to her, the book publisher accidentally released an unedited manuscript that was never supposed to make it to the public. So technically the publisher did not recall the book because it was “too gay”, they recalled it because they printed a version that was never meant for the public to see anyway. These were the edits that were specifically requested by Paramount, who the publishers were supposed to go through to get the final okay on all material. And like, yeah, all of Paramounts edits were pretty much to delete any sentence where Spock and Kirk are tender to each other, they were trying to make is less homoerotic, obviously. I understand why this slight distinction may not make much of a difference to you guys, but for me it’s important to note that the book wasn’t recalled because it was too gay, it was just never supposed to be gay in the first place. It doesn’t make that fact any better, but it does make it less dramatic, in my opinion. I encourage you to read the statements from the author on this topic though, because she gives the whole story a lot better then I just did.

Now to address the main question at hand, does Killing Time depict a romantic relationship between Kirk and Spock, or is it all just hype? (in layman's terms, is the book gay or not?) and to answer quite plainly, yes it’s gay. of course it is. but then to answer less plainly, no. What the fuck do i mean by this? well let me try and explain.

I read the second edition of the book, aka the censored version, but I also followed along with the first edition (using this great article). The changes made to the book did not effect the plot at all, and were really only minor things. Notably, in the second edition they just kind of left out any part where Spock and Kirk touch each other (and I don’t mean in a sexual way). For example, there is a scene where Spock and Kirk are having a serious conversation in the ships garden. In the first edition, at the end of the conversation Spock places a hand on Kirks shoulder, which Kirk covers with his own hand. In the second addition, all mentions of this simple contact are deleted. The differences between the two are mostly little things like this. There is no secret sex scene or love confession hidden in the first addition. You see, in my opinion, the changes made to the second edition of the book do very little to censor the romantic undertones between Kirk and Spock. That’s because they are ingrained in the plot line itself.

One very important aspect to this book is that Kirk and Spock share a mental bond. This is something that can only happen between a Vulcan and another when they are extremely close. The mental bond that Kirk and Spock share is so strong in this book, it’s even present when they enter an alternate dimension where they are strangers to one another. There is a romance in this book between two original characters, and their relationship is constantly being paralleled by that of Kirk and Spock. And, maybe most telling, Spock refuses a female Romulan who is very interested in him over and over again simply because Kirk exists. And no, that’s not an exaggeration, here is a line from when the Romulan woman was begging Spock to be in a relationship with her:

“I need you. The Empire needs you, what more can there be?”

“James Kirk” the Vulcan murmured without hesitation.

That line is in both versions of the book. What I’m trying to say is yes, there are K/S elements in Killing Time. There are many tender moments and lots of talk about Kirk and Spock’s devotion to each other.

So now you’re asking yourself, Gar, why did you just say earlier that “no, the book is not gay”? Well, that’s because it’s not. This isn’t a K/S book. This isn’t a piece of Spirk fanfiction. Because for as much as this book is about Kirk and Spock’s relationship, it’s even more about Romulans (and more specifically, that one girlboss Romulan Commander from the Enterprise Incident.... bet ya didn't see that coming!) That’s right, the most controversial Star Trek book ever published is at it’s core quite plainly just a Star Trek book. There is weird alternate dimensions, time travel, espionage and lots and lots of Romulans!

Alright, alright, what I’m really trying to get at here is that yes, if you read into Killing Time there is K/S elements. I mean for god sake the author was a known K/S fanfic writer, that wasn’t a secret by any means. If she wrote their relationship a little more tenderly than most authors would have, can we really be surprised? But writing a K/S story was not her intention here, and that’s not what this is. I think the author put it best herself, so I’m just going to put that here:

“If people chose to see overtones of K/S in it, maybe it’s because there were overtones of K/S throughout Star Trek itself.”

People will hype up killing time as some secret confirmation that K/S is real and canon, and I really get that. Like, it would be really nice to have some canon acknowledgment of K/S, and I really don’t blame people for acting like that’s what this is. But that really isn’t what this is. And even if there was some kind of love confession, I really hate to break it to you, but the Star Trek novels are just fancy fanfiction and are not considered canon by any stretch (excluding the one Gene wrote himself, which let’s face it, perhaps has the most K/S elements of all).

If you are looking for a nice story about Kirk and Spock being in love, then I very much urge you to look at Ao3 or similar sites. Skip this, if you want a K/S story, because that’s not what this is. Now, if you’re a huge fan of the Romulan commander from the Enterprise Incident, then my GOD you have to read this. I think this was a pretty solid Trek book. It was no piece of literary genius, but it got the job done. There was a lot of it that I think could have been left out, because it the later half it started to drag horribly, and we got a few plot threads that went absolutely nowhere. I’m not sure I’m much of a fan of alternate universes, as I really really enjoy the established dynamic of the characters, but it didn’t bother me too much. But I mean hey man, there was defiantly parts where I was so invested I couldn’t put the book down. Give this one a read if you’re looking for a pretty interesting Trek book with a little bit of cheeky K/S sprinkled here and there.

If you have given the book a read, or just have thoughts in general, I’d love to hear them!

#here it is people #as always sorry for any grammer or spelling mistakes #i know there are prone to be some so just uhhhhh #ignore it if you can #star trek #killing time #kirk #james t kirk #spock #kirk/spock #k/s #spirk #the original series

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formenis · 4 years ago

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Anon asked “Can you do one shot were before the Kira case L and reader were trying for a baby but after he takes the Kira case they agree to stop and after L meets Light reader finds out she is pregnant. L tries to send her away but she refuses and they end up fighting in front if the Task Force and that's how they find out L and reader are married and that she is pregnant “

pairing: L x fem!reader

warning: mention of food play

requested: yes

A/N: I apologise for the mistakes you will find in my stories but English is not my first language. Sorry ^^”

Y/A = your alias

Negative.

Y/N sighed placing the pregnancy test on the sink. It was the second one that week with that same result…Y/N started to believe either she or L were able to have a child.

After a little time off, she washed her face, now her S/C skin was flawless and smooth, and then the teeth. She brushed her H/C hair and took a moment to observe her own reflection: the exhaustion in her E/C eyes was clear (and her job wasn’t helping her) and even her skin lost a bit of colour. In moments like those Y/N wondered what someone as the greatest detective in the world found attractive in her.

Her negative thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

«Miss Y/N? It's Watari, I brought you breakfast» the kind voice of L's right-hand man showed a hint of concern and this made Y/N smile. Watari was always by her side, God blessed him.

«Thank you Watari» before leaving the bathroom she threw the pregnancy test in the bin and adjusted the PJs. Once outside the bathroom she saw Watari serving the breakfast in the cart: fried eggs, sausages, back bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread and a slice of white pudding; it was accompanied by tea and hot, buttered toast. To sum up: a typical British breakfast.

«Watari, you don’t have to spoil me like that…» Y/N told him already drooling.

«Miss Y/N, I believe you need some fresh air and relax. Please, enjoy me this afternoon at the shopping centre, I will need your precious advices» and then the old man placed a hot cup of tea on the cart with the rest of the breakfast.

It was not the first time Watari would make such an offer, he knew very well that being L's wife could be stressful. Yes, you heard right: Y/N L/N was L's wife. Despite the young age, both of them got married few years ago and they couldn’t be happier. Well, actually there was something that would make them happier: a child. Both L and Y/N wanted their own child despite the Wammy's House had many orphans.

«They're not orphans, Y/N. They are all adopted by me» L said few months after the marriage when the topic popped out in a conversation. He considered those children as his own, he loved being surrounded by their presence. Maybe because L was a bit childish himself.

However, despite their strong desire to have a kid on their own, it seemed nature didn’t agree with them.

But back to the present. Y/N was thinking about Watari's offer. If people considered L's life as secretive, his wife's one was twice as secretive but Y/N accepted it when she married him: she knew the risks and the conditions of being the greatest detective in the world's partner. So when Watari asked her to go with him at the shopping centre she seized the opportunity and said yes.

Disguise check. Sunglasses and hat? Check. F/C wig? Check. Y/N was ready to leave L's secret base with Watari.

«Are you ready Miss Y/N?»

«Of course, Watari. Let's go!~»

Unaware of Miss Y/N, Watari hadn’t to buy anything at the shopping centre. It was an excuse to let Y/N leave the base, a chance to get some fresh air. He pretended to buy some stuff for him: a new fedora and raincoat to be precise. He would need them for the new case L was going to take.

«Are you feeling better, Miss Y/A?»

«Yeah! Thank you Watari! I really needed to leave that place» Y/N was smiling again, her skin had a more healthily colour and all the tiredness in her eyes was gone. Watari smiled too. «However…»

«What is it, Miss?»

«Today's test was negative again and…» Y/N sighed and checked the time on her phone.

«If I could dare an advice, Miss, things will come when you stop looking for them. So don't be sad, it only means it's not the right time…»

Y/N looked at him and smiled. «You're right, Watari»

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

December 2003. L was going to take part at one of those boring ICPO meeting. An emergency Interpol meeting, with delegates from all around the world, held in order to discuss a rather strange situation that was occurring in Japan. They are convinced that something was happening but cannot be sure what it is.

L was going to take the floor but before that he called Y/N.

«Did you call me?» Y/N entered the private and empty room that was L's personal "office": a desk, a fancy armchair and many many computer screens at their highest brightness level.

«Yes. Please, come closer» L replied. When he was with her, his usual monotone voice would become warmer and gentler, something reserved to his wife only.

Y/N walked towards him, next to his armchair waiting for an explanation. «Y/N, this case seems quite interesting. I think sooner or later we have to move»

«We?» she was surprised. Was she really going to go with him? It would be the first time.

«Indeed. If you agree, obviously»

«Of course I agree. I'll help you as always, L»

He smiled and took her hand, kissing tenderly the knuckle. «So would you agree with me if I say that it's better stop trying to have a baby, my dear?»

Y/N thought for a while, calculating every scenario. «Yes, you're right»

L smiled again, this time wider. «Thank you, my love»

Y/N smiled as well and L returned to his bright screens. Then she noticed his personal stash of sweets beside him and took the opportunity to steal a Bon Bon Cherry (A/N: they are shortbread cookies wrapped around a cherry and topped with cherry frosting).

«Y/N, those are mine»

She snorted but ate the sweet regardless of L's warning.

♰ LATER THAT NIGHT ♰

«Are you coming to bed, L?»

«Not now, Y/N»

She walked closer to him and hugged the detective from behind. «But I prepared some creme pat~»

At those words L froze. Those words meant one thing: food play. And L couldn’t renounce to food play. «How much?»

«Two bowls…one has chocolate too~» she whispered alluring to his ear. In one swift movement, L was already up with Y/N in his arms –bridal style- leading towards the bedroom.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

Japan was so full of life, wherever you turned you would be surrounded by different cultures. And the people was so kind and polite, they had a very high respect of other costumes and traditions. Y/N loved everything about Japan, she wanted to visit each district of Tokyo: from Akihabara (Tokyo's Anime & Gadget Town), to Shinjuku (Culture Clash) and to Kichijoji (a glimpse of Japan’s rural life within the city). She even prepared a tour on foot for each of them.

But at this point a question could arise: what was Y/N's job? Everyone who had the opportunity to work with L knew that each of his "co-worker" had a specific task to fulfil. So what was Y/N's real task? To be L's shadowy wife? Oh no, nothing like that.

Her role was very important in the couple: she "filtered" the information from Watari to L, she represented L in many circumstances and helped him in solving cases. In other words, Y/N was a sort of "Watari 2.0".

Once the couple moved to Japan, they booked a room at the "Imperial Hotel", one of the fanciest hotel at Tokyo. Until the construction of the new Japanese HQ wouldn’t be complete, L and Y/N had to change often hotel for safety reasons. But Y/N didn’t mind, for her it was the chance to visit the city.

"Kira…eliminating those FBI agents has got to have put you on the defensive. What are thinking right now?" L thought while looking outside the window, in front of him a breathtaking view of Tokyo at night but he wasn’t focused on it.

«Ryuzaki, are you still awake?» Y/N entered the room, she was already wearing her F/C PJs.

He nodded and watched her walking closer through the reflection of the window. She hugged him from behind and observed the scenario outside the window.

«Tomorrow you'll meet your task-force, you have to sleep»

«Maybe later, Y/A»

They stood there, their bodies were hugged together but their minds had different thoughts. Between them, a pleasant silence filled the air, the couple was enjoying each other presence.

However, Y/N had to break said silence. «Maybe I'm intolerant to soy sauce»

«To soy sauce?» L asked concerned.

«Yes…today I ate the famous Kobe meat but not much after that I threw up»

L stood in silence, deep in thought for a while. In those minutes he was analysing the current situation: what if Kira found out Y/N's true identity? Would he use her to blackmail L? He was so focused on those things that he almost didn’t notice Y/N was leaving.

«I'm going to bed, dear» Y/N kissed his cheek on tiptoes. «Please, rest for a bit alright?»

L smiled at her taking her hands in his. «Good night, my love» and then he kissed first the knuckles and after her lips. From this point of view L was really romantic despite his external cold behaviour.

Y/N smiled at him and left the room, now L was alone again with a new thought in his mind: «Since when Y/N is intolerant to soy sauce?»

January 2004 could be sum up with three major events: Raye Penber and Naomi Misora's deaths and the surveillance at Yagami and Kitamura's households. In particular, L's suspects moved to the son of Soichiro Yagami, Light. Technically he had access to the police's private dossiers and database since his father was the Chief and most importantly…he was too perfect according to L.

«Y/A, I don’t want you to meet Light-kun»

«Do you really think he is Kira?»

«It's not an assumption but a matter-of-fact. Of course he is»

However, it was inevitable. Light noticed Y/N's presence at the hotel and he wanted to meet her. He had to. So he "pretended" to be lost and asked Y/N for directions.

«Excuse me, Miss. I think I'm lost, do you know where room 684 is?»

Y/N, with one of her disguise on, turned towards the teenager: in front of her a young man, standing at above average height with light-brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a school uniform with a bright red tie.

«Uhm no sorry…but if you follow the numeration on the doors it must be easier for you» and with that Y/N left an astonished yet angry Light Yagami in the middle of the hallway.

She hadn’t the time to think about him, she had a more important thing to do. Since December, she missed her period twice: at first she thought it was because of the sudden trip to Japan but it was already the second time it happened. Could it be…?

«Such a bad timing…» she said out loud once in her room. However, she couldn’t hide the nervousness: she agreed with L to stop trying to have a baby before the Kira case and if the test she bought was positive…what would be L's reaction?

«"Get rid of the cause and you get rid of the problem" they say…let's do this then»

The task-force was working quietly in L's room, sharing information and dossiers. However, that atmosphere was abruptly interrupted by someone that thrusted open the door.

«Ryuzaki! Ryuzaki! I have something important to tell you!» Y/N appeared in the room, tears in her eyes and a wide smile on her face.

The entire task-force looked at her in awe and confusion. Who was that woman?

L turned towards her as well. Of course when she barged into the room he was shocked not only because of that sudden appearance but because now the task-force knew about her. There must be a really good reason for that.

He stood up and walked towards her. «Please Y/A, not now. You'll tell me later»

«No Ryuzaki, you need to hear this now!» she was so excited that she couldn’t be still.

«Y/A, it's not the right moment. You have to leave, please» L insisted trying to guide her towards the door.

«Ryuzaki stop! I'm your wife and you need to listen this!»

The task-force behind them stared in shock (and Aizawa almost spilled all his coffee). Did they hear right? Wife? What? Someone like L…married?!

«No Y/A, you have to stop. Your behaviour is highly unprofessional. Moreover, you don’t have the permission to stay here so please leave» L was becoming more and more bothered and it was clear by the tone of his voice, deep and fierce at the same time.

«Ryuzaki, I'm pregnant!»

Silence.

It was so loud that you could hear a pin falling down.

Heavy and tense air was breathable, even the task-force noticed it. Y/N was there, with her heart in her throat, waiting for a reaction or a word from L. Fear was soon replaced by terror because L wasn’t saying anything.

«Are you…?»

Deducing what he was going to ask, Y/N showed him the test: two blue lines. At that sight L hugged her tightly, starting spinning together. Y/N burst in a resounding laugh, all fears and nervousness were gone.

«Oh my, Y/A. Finally! I knew it was not intolerance at soy sauce» he placed the forehead against her own and smiled widely.

They stood hugged together for a while and in the meantime the entire task-force was complimenting them about that news (especially Soichiro).

«We have to tell Watari too» L added shortly after the hug.

«Yes, he is going to become a grandpa after all»

#death note #death note headcanons #l lawliet #watari #l x reader #l x y/n #l x you #reader insert #female reader

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obeiii-mee · 4 years ago

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I am not sure if the request is open- fanfic or headcanon an angst of mc sacrificing her life to return Lilith to them and lilth come back so she told she's only here becuz the mc bought her back how would the demon brother cope with it- it is okay if you don’t want to write it :)

I haven’t written any angst yet on this blog so I don’t really know how this is going to turn out. I don’t know how MC would be able to bring Lilith back so I’ll just figure something out as I write along. It’s hard for me to write the brothers suffering help me-

I want to make it clear that I don’t know if it’s possible for a human to do something like this but for the sake of this request let’s roll with it. Lilith is back and MC sacrificed their life for that to happen. I really don’t think any of the brothers would react well because Lilith and MC aren’t the same person. They love both of them very much but they wouldn’t be able to make one suffer just to bring the other back. All the HCs are related, happening on the same day, in the same way. Lilith reuniting with her brothers one by one starting with Lucifer. Hopefully this makes sense but I don’t really have my way around words so——

This is obviously too long so I won’t be able to write for all the brothers in one post. Instead I’ll write about Lucifer, Mammon and Levi in this one and then continue this on another post. So this is part one. Thanks for the request!

Pt. 2

————————————-

The Brothers Reacting to MC sacrificing themselves to bring Lilith back, Part 1:

Lucifer:

-OK, realistically speaking, it should have been impossible for Lilith to be brought back. She lived as a human and died, that’s it, you can’t reverse something like that. But you really didn’t want to give up, seeing the way the brothers acted whenever the topic of their sister was brought up was too much for you to handle. So you kept looking and searching for spells, magical objects, anything you could get your hands on that could help. You even spoke to Solomon about it in secret, away from Lucifer’s prying ears. You were too determined to be swayed away from the task.

-Of course, after a long time of searching, you found exactly what you were looking for. And of course in order for Lilith to be brought back to life once again, you would have to give something in return; your life. It was a hard pillow to swallow but after hours of arguing back and forth with yourself, you decided to do it. For the sake of all the brothers and their happiness. It wasn’t the quickest of deaths but it definitely didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should have. And once your soul had officially been diminished, Lilith was given a tangible body and teleported to DevilDom. That also meant that she was completely aware as to why or how and she wasn’t exactly happy. It was an indescribable moment full of misery and despair for her. She was back and her descendant payed the price for it.

-Lucifer didn’t really believe his eyes when he first saw his long dead sister on their couch, supposedly staring at nothing. He first assumed that he was daydreaming which seemed like the most rational option at that point. Due to all the paperwork he had to finish by the end of the week, he had been rather sleep deprived and it made sense that he started hallucinating. After all, Lilith was on his mind quite a lot. But then she noticed him and she sprung into his arms before he could even get a word out. It always used to be like this. Her running straight into him just to show her affection back when they were both angels and happy.

-She was real, not a dream or a fiction of his mind and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He was torn, as if all of his emotions were threatening to come out at once and he didn’t know how to handle that. Lucifer uses logic for every situation he finds himself in, but this time, it was thrown out the window. It didn’t matter why or how or when. All that mattered was that she was here and he got to see her again after all these millenniums of dealing with the slow torture of having to carry the burden of her death by himself. He was ready to go get his brothers, the rest of his dysfunctional family and obviously MC had to come along too, them being just as important to him as everyone else. But Lilith grabbed his sleeve.

-His sister told him everything. Ranging from MC’s sacrifice to her waking up in DevilDom and to her wandering around until she found the House of Lamentation. His brain stopped working the moment the words registered with him as Lilith rambled on with her story. He almost wanted to ask her if she was joking but he knew her better than that; his little sister was never one to joke about something so grave.

-Lucifer always knew that their exchange student was a bit of a nutcase and definitely special in their own way. Considering how often they went to the extremes and overdid every little thing that had to be done. But this...this was something entirely different. They gave up their own life for them, for Lilith to come back and they did this because of him and his siblings. The second time MC had been ripped away from him, without even the satisfaction of saying goodbye because they were way too good for his family and for DevilDom in general. He wanted to scream and cry and curse his father even more so than usual for this cruel turn of events. Any more of this emotional suffering, and his heart may as well stop pulsating. MC died and he couldn’t help them in any way, he couldn’t stop them from making this mistake because he had just gotten over Lilith’s death and had begun to heal from the trauma. And now you left him as well.

-Lilith forced him to sit down and let him deal with his internal breakdown while she thought this out. At this rate her brother was either going to wind up in a blind rage and pop out another Satan or drown himself in depression and anguish. But Lucifer, despite the range of emotions conflicting him on the inside, tried remaining as calm on the outside as possible. Lilith was right there. He shouldn’t cry in front of his sister, he never did. He was always supposed to be the role model, be the strong protector that she could lean on if she needed help. With a single tear running down his cheek, which he quickly wiped away, he got up, abruptly much to the protest of Lilith and began walking toward the door.

-He had to tell his brothers. The news would break every single one of them and he couldn’t do anything about it. He had the responsibility of going to every single one of them and privately discuss this because god knows what chaos would ensue if they were all in a room together with Lilith. He would have to talk to Lord Diavolo, get another exchange student down there but...not yet. Not yet. He had to tell his siblings first. His younger brothers that he swore he would protect with all of his being since he couldn’t do so with Lilith. And now he had to go and break their hearts while his own lay shattered on the floor.

-But first, he was going to go and cry by himself, locked away in his room, so he can regain the power of speaking with everyone properly. And he would just have to accept the fact that MC will forever be stuck in his heart, with no means of getting them out.

-Who would have thought a human like you would stir up these feelings within me?

Mammon:

-It was his fault. It was always his fucking fault. Whenever something bad happened to you, the first person Mammon blamed was himself. How could he not? He was in charge of you after all, he was supposed to be your protector and guardian during your stay in DevilDom. Honestly, at first, he didn’t really care about you. Your whole existence and the fact he had to babysit you was irritating more than anything. But it didn’t take long for him to get attached to you, he fell and he fell fast. Soon enough, he was about ready to just dedicate his entire being to you (and money, we don’t forget about money). You were his human. So how did he fuck it all up?

-That day, he was supposed to be with you. At least one of the brothers had to be with you at all times, per Lucifer’s orders, to make sure you could circulate DevilDom without getting killed. He had one job to do. Follow you around until you got bored and wanted to go home. Then, since you were left with the rest of his brothers, he could go do his thing. But a modelling gig had come up rather abruptly and he had to go get ready for a few shots. Mammon, being a simp great companion and actually a lot smarter than people give him credit for, was really hesitant at first. He didn’t really want to leave you alone and offered to turn the job down. He would never admit it, but his human was way more important.

-However, you insisted it was fine, encouraging him to go and implying you would be alright for an hour by yourself. Besides, you had something to check and would probably be home in no time. He couldn’t really argue back so he reluctantly agreed and left you to your own devices.

-And that was the last time he saw you.

-After his shoot, he couldn’t find you anywhere. Not at home, not in Majolish, not at any of your favourite places. He wasn’t worried at first because he thought you were with one of his siblings. But half an hour later, he was getting panicky and pushing himself over the edge. Sitting alone in his room, pondering on where the fuck you could have been while also debating as to where he should look for you first. He really didn’t want to bring the subject up with Lucifer because he feared his reaction and the possibility he would forbid Mammon from helping him search for you.

-And just as he had conjured up a master plan, Lucifer walked in. With Lilith behind him like it was regular Tuesday night. Her presence wasn’t acknowledged for a few moments, he was too concentrated on Lucifer’s face, scared out of his wits that he found out you were missing and now he was about to face punishment. His older brother didn’t look angry though. Grave and sad, but mostly solemn, like he was holding back. Then it clicked that his loving sister, the one that was supposed to be dead, was standing next to him. Mammon jumped. Physically jumped backwards and fell off the bed in surprise. If there was one thing he disliked more than giving his money away, it would be thinking about Lilith. His memories with her brought him nothing but tears.

-Lilith smiled, in an honest and slightly upset way, seeing her brother’s antics after such a long time made her feel a sort of nolstagia she didn’t think she would miss. Mammon was still staring at her like he’s just been told he had to give all of his money to the witches. He kept switching his gaze between her and Lucifer, as if confirming with him that she wasn’t a ghost while he kept his eyes wide in horror.

-“Stop that Mammon. Your gawking is giving me a headache.” Lucifer snapped, more ferociously than usual which was odd. Mammon thought he looked more tense, rigid but he didn’t push the subject. He wanted to get up, walk up to Lilith and touch her, see if she was real. And then he wanted to hug the living daylights out of her. But he froze on the spot until Lucifer finally managed to spit out that Lilith was, indeed, back. And then Mammon sprinted straight into her arms like a fired bullet, not planning on letting go for a long time. His sister just smiled again, happy to see her needier brother again and to know that despite being a demon now, he hadn’t changed all that much. That moment was sort of euphoric and he grasped onto it for as long as he could.

-Then came the devastating news that would hit Mammon in the gut harder than a moving truck.

-MC was gone. Forever. Forever, forever. Never to be seen again. Gave her entire being up for Lilith to come back to life. Lucifer told him but his eyes and voice seemed to be elsewhere, as if he struggled to show emotion in his voice during his monologue because he was directing those emotions somewhere else. Lilith tightened her grip on him, preparing for a meltdown, or even an angry fit, anything could be expected from this brother of hers in particular.

-Oh there was a meltdown alright. His reaction was immediate. He started shaking, uncontrollable trembling that he couldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried to and his vision blurred and swayed as if he was drunk and his nails were digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. Everything felt unstable and he couldn’t take MC’s face out of his mind, like their face was printed onto his brain for keeping purposes. His throat dried up and besides the stream of tears rolling down his face, Mammon started sweating. In the span of a minute, he’s gotten too immeasurably hot and now he was sweating even though he lives in hell and should already be used to this kind of warmth.

-He became unresponsive after that. Not even Lucifer could get through to him. He just sat there, like a broken shell. His brother was speaking to him about things, replacements and a bunch of shit he wasn’t interested in. He didn’t want to hear any of it. He just wanted his human back, even if it meant he had to serve the witches for the rest of eternity. After a while, both of them left. Lucifer giving his shoulder a squeeze, something he hasn’t done in forever but the gesture was somehow comforting. It showed that his older brother was suffering too and he could tell from his voice alone. Lilith hugged him one more time and pecked his cheek and he wanted to grab her hand and keep her there because even though she literally just came back, he needed his sister to stay with him as he went through this. Mammon let them leave.

-He’s more closed off than before. He still steals shit all the time but it’s out of pity for himself more than anything else. He also took a bunch of your belongings too, something to remind him that you existed once. That you had a presence and changed his life and his brothers for the better. Mammon breaks down at the most random of times whenever he’s reminded of you and these sometimes take hours before he finally calms down. Somehow Lilith is the only one who happens to have an effect on him. Her presence at least helps. But not by a lot.

-Stupid human, letting him be an idiot and allowing him to leave you all by yourself. Stupid Mammon for being such a moron and letting the one person that understood him beyond the surface of the Avatar of Greed and actually associated him with being more than just scum, die. Stupid MC, leaving him all alone...

-He just hopes you’ve made it to the Celestial Realm...but seeing as you died in DevilDom, he doubts it.

Levi:

-Levi was sort of used to you showing up late to his gaming sessions. He didn’t blame you really, his brothers were sure to try and grab as much of your attention as possible so it makes sense you forgot about little old him. Except you never did. Sure you came by later than planned, but you always came no matter what so maybe he wasn’t giving you enough credit.

-Maybe he should have tried calling you, or even just texting you to see what you were up to. That’s why he had a D.D.D to begin with after all. But he didn’t. He assumed you were with Mammon or reading with Satan somewhere. Maybe sleeping with the twins. Levi reasoned with himself that you were probably fine and just got caught up on something on the way home. Yet the pit in his stomach kept growing with every minute that passed and before he knew it, he was pacing around the room.

-He heard Mammon having a breakdown from somewhere, and at first, he really had an overwhelming urge to check in with him and see what the problem was. Maybe something happened to MC. Maybe something happened to his older brother. Levi has a dislike for him sure, but he still wouldn’t want Mammon to suffer, no matter how much money he owes him. He didn’t leave his room. He assumed he was crying because the witches were at it again or maybe because he lost all of his money at the casino or even because Lucifer was punishing him for something.

-Then, a knock came on his door and he jumped to his feet faster than he had ever done so before. Password and all long forgotten, he opened the door to his room expecting to see you. Instead, he came face to face with his oldest brother, which disappointed him beyond measure. He was about to mumble something about MC and whether he had seen them at all that day but something stopped him. Behind Lucifer, just barely visible since she is slightly shorter than him, was Lilith. His reaction was definitely interesting.

-“Oh-I....holy crap, this is just like that anime where the protagonist’s dead sister comes back as ghost and starts talking to him. Oh shit, am I going insane or are ghosts are actually real? And not Lilith, Lilith doesn’t deserve to live the rest of eternity as a ghost-“

-“Shut up Levi.”

-“Sorry.”

-Lilith slowly walked out him and hugged him, which debunked Levi’s theory. She wasn’t a ghost! She was real and she was hugging him! He missed her so much, he was actually still doubting the fact that she was back. Levi tried pushing her out of his mind so many times because it hurt too much to think of her and now she was right here in front of him.

-The moment didn’t last though. Lucifer had to interrupt. He himself was shaky, still processing a bunch of things and on top of all that, he had to break his brothers’ spirits. The words came out eventually and Levi’s reaction was a lot slower than Mammon’s. He couldn’t process it as well and it felt like his life was put on pause, like in one of his video games. Lilith was holding him, as a sort of support system but Levi just kind of drifted in another world.

-Sure, he missed his sister dearly. But that didn’t mean he wanted MC’s life to be exchanged with hers. It was such an unfair choice really, making him choose between two people he absolutely adores. Except he didn’t make that choice. You did. And it changed everything.

-Ever since you left, he hasn’t had as much energy in playing games or even watching anime. He can’t find himself sitting for too long, he always has be to pacing and chewing on his fingernails. Everything seemed pointless without you here. Nothing was right. Watching anime by himself wasn’t as enjoyable even though he used to do it for a long time before you even came to DevilDom. He doesn’t have the energy to participate in Ruri chan contests either, though sometimes he makes an effort to. In a way to satisfy himself knowing that you didn’t die for him to mope around all depressed.

-He just sort of lays in his room all day, speaking with Henry 2.0 occasionally or just trying to relax in his bathtub. But it never works. Your voice keeps ringing in his ears. He misses you terribly and his sleeping schedule probably worsened since he can’t sleep now at all, thanks to all the nightmares he gets every night, featuring you of course.

-Out of all the things the world could have taken away from him, it just had to be his Henry didn’t it? Maybe he was just cursed from ever finding a true friend like you....

Hey, yeah I’m not dead. Just been working on this for a while now. This is obviously too long already so I can’t write for all the brothers at once. I’ll do a second post continuing this ask soon but for now I’ve written and edited this for the eldest three. Sorry it took so long and that I only managed three of the brothers. I’m still working on the following four. Thanks for reading! Part 2 should done soon!

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #to be continued #angst #⭐️ requests #🦚 lucifer supremacy #�� levi supremacy #💳 mammon supremacy #🌪 angst

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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

Text

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.

No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.

Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 4/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“I can’t talk right now, Nile,” Hange hissed into her phone, taking a step away from Levi. “I’m—”

“On a date, yes, I know. There is a hardly a pen in our department that doesn’t know that some loser asked you out on a date.”

“I’m off duty,” Hange gritted. “So if you’re calling simply to annoy me, then I’m hanging up.”

“I knew I should have asked Erwin to do this…” Nile muttered darkly. Hange could practically see him closing his eyes and breathing heavily through nose. It was a sight she was quite familiar with. She was seeing it almost every time that hers and Nile’s paths crossed. “Zoe, I know we don’t usually see eye to eye, but this is important.”

“Important?” what that could possibly mean? The only thing more important right now than her date with Levi was…

“It’s about the Ackerman case.” Nile confirmed. Hange gripped the phone tighter in her hands.

“Was there another robbery?”

“No. But we just apprehended a criminal.”

“Ackerman?”

“No.”

Hange cursed. “Why are you calling me then, Nile? To brag that your team isn’t a bunch of complete idiots? Well, congratulations, but I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Would you shut up for just a second?” Nile snapped. “I’m trying to tell you something, Zoe!”

Hange huffed, irritated. “I’m all ears,” she said sarcastically.

“We caught a thief, name’s Traute Caven. You probably don’t know her.”

“That’s right. I don’t.”

“Well, she wants to talk with you.”

“About what?” Hange questioned. “And why me?”

“She asked me to bring in detective who leads the Ackerman case. And she refuses to say anything else.”

“Fuck.” Hange exhaled. She was having a really good time with Levi… she didn’t wish to leave him, but… her duty and work came first. Always did, always will. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Stay where you are,” Nile said. “I’ll come and pick you up.”

He hanged up before Hange could give him another sarcastic comeback.

With a heavy sigh, she returned to Levi’s side.

“I need to go,” she told him, shamefully avoiding his eyes. “Sorry for ditching you, but… it’s an emergency.”

“Do you want me to walk you back?”

“No, thanks,” her face changed, turning into a sour mien, as she thought of Nile and his awful, ugly goatee. “My, um, friend will pick me up.”

“Oh, alright,” Levi nodded, looking lost, like he didn’t know what to do. Hange felt another prick of guilt.

“I’ll text you, yeah?” she wasn’t sure if Levi would want to see her after that, but, well… she was an eternal optimist. “So we could meet again. If you wish to, that’s it?”

“Sure,” he agreed. “I would love that.”

“Awesome!” a bright smile bloomed on her face. Giddy and excited, she snickered, giving him finger-guns. The exasperate roll of his eyes that followed made her giggle again.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Hange saw a car approaching, its bright headlights almost blinding her. It was time to leave, it seemed.

“See you soon!” she gave Levi one last wide grin, and hurried to Nile’s car.

***

“Jesus, Zoe!” Nile looked over Hange’s wet hair and clothes with disgust, written all over his features. “Did you get dunked in a pile of snow?”

Hange hid a smile. “It’s called a snow fight, Nile. If you already forgot what that is or you’ve never knew because you were a giant nerd as a child, it’s when two or more people—”

“I know what a snow fight is,” he threw Hange a quick, annoyed look and then started the car, riding out on a street. “I have kids, you know. And I wasn’t a nerd.”

“Erwin tells a different story.”

“Erwin is full of shit,” he grunted, stopping before a traffic light. In a second before the green lightened up, he looked at Hange once more. Her arms were wrapped around her body, and her teeth were almost audibly chattering. Nile rolled his eyes, let out a tired sigh and turned up the heater.

“Thanks,” Hange quietly said, bringing her red fingers closer to the source of warmth. “How are your kids, by the way?”

“They’re good,” Nile nodded, his expression softening slightly at the mention of his children. “And how was… your date?”

“Good!” Hange answered, a smile breaking on her face. “It was really, really good.”

“So what, you like, er,” Nile winced and then frowned. “You like… them?”

“I do,” she watched his obvious discomfort with amused look. “And I was meeting up with a man, if that’s what confused you so much.”

The tips of his ears became red. “I just didn’t want to assume,” Nile grumbled with a stubborn scowl. “Your last date was a woman, so…”

The awkward silence fell over the car. Hange thought of fiddling with a car’s radio, but quickly decided against it. Her relationship with Nile was tense as it was, there was no point in adding fuel to an already raging fire.

She estimated that it would take them another ten minutes to get to the precinct. She desperately thought of a new topic for a conversation. Casual small talk proved to be too awkward for her and Nile.

The metaphorical bulb lightened up in her head. Of course! What was the only thing in the world she and Nile had in common?

“So what about that woman you’ve apprehended? Traute Caven, right?”

“Oh yes,” Nile nodded, obviously relieved to have something else to discuss and fill the silence with. “I brought a case file with me, it’s in a glove compartment.”

Hange followed his directions and took out a thick enough folder. Quite a portfolio that Caven had, she thought with a grim smile. She didn’t open it, instead glancing at Nile’s face again.

“You’ve spoken with her, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“And? Do you think she really knows something? Do you think we should trust her?”

“I don’t know,” Nile answered truthfully. “She asked to speak with you, Hange. So, it’s up for you to decide.”

“Awesome,” Hange grumbled, opening the folder on a first page. “No pressure at all.”

***

Standing in front of a sturdy, metal door, Hange recited everything she had just read.

Traute Caven, 47 years.

Was involved in a life of crime since teenage years. At young age of fifteen, she was apprehended by a police for the first time. Caught for shoplifting at a local mall, they let her go. A couple of months later, she was detained once more, this time for stealing from a jewelry store. Because she was caught before she could actually steal anything, she got away again once again. Just after she turned seventeen, Caven and a few of her friends decided to rob a bank. The police got them fairly quickly, and Caven received a jail sentence. She spent three years behind bars, but jail wasn’t able to change her. Once she was a free woman again, she returned to stealing, but this time— she was more cautious. She changed her name and appearance after each theft, and she had gotten acquainted with a skill of fraud as well, which complicated her arrest even more. The police spent years, chasing after her. Hange was actually quite impressed that Nile and his team were able to get her.

And now Caven wanted to talk with her.

About Ackerman case.

Hange couldn’t lie, she was excited. And nervous. Very, very nervous.

After all that time and efforts she poured into that goddamned case, just a small clue, a seemingly insignificant detail meant the world to her.

And what if she was at the verge of breakthrough?

Just the thought of it made Hange feel giddy. If Caven really knew something, if she could really lead them to Ackermans…

She was getting ahead of herself.

Too much haste is too little speed, Erwin always reminded her.

She needed to pull herself together.

Hange gripped the folder with Caven’s case tighter and put on a serious, determined face.

She had to look professional, authoritative.

She inhaled, exhaled and then opened the door.

Traute Caven didn't look like a thief. With her long blond hair tied up in a neat ponytail, in an elegant dark blue dress suit and white expensive-looking coat, she looked gorgeous, despite the unnatural lighting of the interrogation room.

A life of crime paid well, Hange thought bitterly. Much better than what she received for trying to catch the scoundrels.

"Miss Caven," she greeted. She sat down on the opposite side of a table and leveled her with a hard gaze.

"Detective Zoe, I take it?" Caven retorted, her each word slow and measured.

Hange nodded, taking a notebook out of her breast pocket. "You wanted to talk to me, right?"

"I have something to tell you," Caven confirmed.

"So I've heard. And what is it that you wanted to discuss?"

Caven curled her wine red lips in a smile. "Let's discuss the details of our deal first."

Hange answered her with a sly smile of her own. "Tell me what you know, Miss Caven. Or I'm walking out of here."

"And miss your chance to catch Ackermans?"

"I'm sure I can manage without your help."

It was a bluff, and a weak one at that. Erwin would have done a much better job, but Erwin wasn't there and Hange didn't have enough time to come up with a more efficient trick. But it seemed like she didn't have to. Despite the confident way she held herself, Hange caught a glimpse of what she was hiding behind that tough exterior – in truth, Caven was too desperate to argue.

"So let's hear your offer first," Hange prompted. She threw Caven an expectant look and uncapped the pen, holding it above the notebook.

"Fine," she gritted, flicking her hair. "I'll tell you what I know. But that’s it. I refuse to cooperate further, if you don’t uphold your end of a deal.”

They had no deal, Hange wanted to remind her. But if Caven’s information was worth at least something… Hange was ready to beg Erwin to shorten her prison term.

“I’m listening, Miss Caven,” she told with a sweet smile.

Caven sat back in the chair, folding arms across her chest. On her face she wore an expression of superiority and complacency. Hange unconsciously leaned closer.

If her previous distress so quickly turned in such blatant display of arrogance, then what she knew must be good, real good. Hange’s heart hammered in her chest, as she anxiously waited for Caven to start talking.

“I know one of the Ackermans. And I can lead you to him.”

Hange blinked a few times. Opened and closed her mouth. Looked up and down, pitched the skin of her arm.

She wasn’t dreaming.

Hange narrowed her eyes, studying Caven’s face. She didn’t look like she was lying. And why would she? As soon as her lie uncovers, she’d get sent in prison, for a much longer time than her original term.

So Caven wasn’t lying, and she was evidently real, so— it wasn’t Hange’s dream or fantasy. And that meant—

Whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

This was all real.

Caven really knew an Ackerman. She could bring Hange to him. She wasn’t just at the verge, it was a breakthrough.

I know one of the Ackermans, Caven had said. Meaning there were two of them, meaning they didn’t always operate together. Hange quickly scribbled it down in her notebook. Compared to Caven’s other revelation, this seemed like a laughably unimportant detail. But Hange was a creature of habit, and she wrote down a few words, no matter how insignificant they might have looked to others.

“I want to have my term shorten by a half. At the very least.” A smirk didn’t leave Caven’s face. She was glowing, basking in the effect her words had on Hange. “So do we have a deal? If we do, I can call him right this second.”

“No!” Hange cried out, bending over the table to grab Caven’s hand in hers. “No need to call anyone.”

Caven raised her eyebrows, watching Hange closely. As she noticed the almost feral look in her eyes, she tentatively backed away.

“You don’t want to apprehend them?”

She did. More than anything, Hange wanted to throw the bastards behind bars, where they rightfully belonged. But they were hurrying things up.

Too much haste is too little speed.

She couldn’t get to Ackermans, not now. She didn’t have any proof to back her up in a court, they could easily whisk away, far out of her reach.

She shouldn’t rush things, she had to act cautiously, taking into account every possible outcome.

She should approach it just like Erwin would.

“Miss Caven,” Hange pushed the glasses up her nose, smirking deviously. “How do you feel about committing one last robbery?”

***

“Erwin!”

Hange was on the phone with him, as soon as she walked out of the interrogation room. She had a person, who would lead her to Ackermans, she had a way to get to them, she had a plan on how to orchestrate all of it and get the evidence they needed to put them behind bars. All she needed now was support from Erwin. If he would believe in her plan, if he would agree to back her up in front of their colleagues… the success was practically guaranteed.

“You like a good gamble, right? I have a perfect one for you.”

***

It's been four days. Four days since Hange had left him in the snowy, quiet park. And she was yet to call or even text him.

Rationally, Levi knew that she must be incredibly busy. She was probably working day and night, doing her best to protect this city from... People like him.

This thought was rational, problem was - nothing about his relationship with Hange Zoe was rational.

If he was thinking rationally, if he was acting with a clear head, he'd run away from her, as far as it was possible. Or he would fool her, making her fall for him, just so he could get closer to the evidence she had gathered on him and Kenny. He'd destroy it, break her heart and then - of course - he'd run away, as fast and far as he could.

If he was thinking rationally, he wouldn't be glaring at his black phone screen, waiting for it to light up and announce a new incoming text - or better yet, a call.

But four days went after their date, and - he got nothing.

It made him angry. And worse than that, it made him sad. He felt neglected. Abandoned. Forgotten.

He wasn't used to neither of those feelings.

He tried contacting her, of course. His finger hovered above the call button dozens of times, and he typed several texts only to delete them just before pressing send.

Hi, how are you seemed too trite.

What you've been up to sounded too nosy.

It's been a while made him look like he was too clingy.

Hey, do you want to hang out would probably make her think he was too needy or demanding.

Levi would never think that texting someone could be so hard. Picking locks to high-security doors was easy. Hacking all the survey cameras in the building at once was easy. Climbing through ventilation shafts and jumping off the skyscrapers with one thin rope as his back up was easy. Communicating with another person was not.

He had half a mind to go and ask Kenny for an advice.

But, obviously, he wasn't that desperate. For now, at least.

In the end, Levi didn't have to ask. Kenny came to him himself.

"So that's it?" Kenny walked into the kitchen, joining him at the table. Shifting his gaze from the phone to his uncle’s face, Levi raised an eyebrow, silently asking him to elaborate.

***

"Your date!" Kenny clasped his back, almost making Levi choke. Letting out a deep, amused chuckle, he continued. "Did she get sick of you already?"

"What the fuck—"

"That must be a record, I'm sure," Kenny carried on, ignoring Levi's sizzling gaze. "To be done with you just after the first date. Her loss, I guess," he shook his head in fake disappointment. "Or yours. Since now you're definitely going to die a virgin."

"I'm not—" Levi paused, taking a deep breath and mustering his expression into the murderest one he could manage. "I'm not a virgin!" he hissed.

"Really?" Kenny, that fucking asshole, had the audacity to look shocked. Levi's hands curled into fists. "Was it that waitress then? The one I told you to seduce? I didn't expect you to get in bed with her. Good job, Levi!” he received another hard pat on his shoulder. “Or, no, wait! Did you do it with that artist? The one that had the security code to the gallery safe?"

His ears were burning. He was sure his cheeks were red too, because Kenny kept looking at him with that insufferably smug smirk of his.

Levi was going to kill him. He was going to murder his own uncle. He could plunge the knife into his chest, or maybe, throw the tea cup into his face..... As soon as he finished the tea, of course.

"This is none of your business," he said, his voice much calmer than he was actually feeling. "And my date didn't grow sick of me."

Levi hoped so, at least.

"Oh? Then why have you been boring holes into your phone for the last few days?"

He shamefully averted his gaze. Kenny started laughing.

"She's probably busy," he muttered.

"So busy she can't reply to your text?"

"...I didn't send her a text."

"Have you called then?"

"...No."

"Levi!" Kenny cried out. "Are you serious? You didn't try to contact her and that's why you're brooding? I didn't know you're that shy!"

"I'm not shy," he grunted. "I'm just—"

"Terrified of making the first move, eh?" the smirk was back on Kenny's lips. "I bet she was the one who asked you out in the first place."

Levi turned his face away, hiding from Kenny's amused look. The fucking bastard was right but— he'd rather die than to admit this to Kenny.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Levi," Kenny gave him look so full of disappointment that the beginnings of shame actually prickled his heart. "Just send her a picture of a funny cat or some other shit. Stop being such a goddamn chicken."

Levi slowly nodded, pondering.

That was.... A sound advice. He wouldn’t send a picture of a funny cat, of course, he had a feeling Hange was actually a dog person, but....Sending something to get her attention. That way he could easily initiate dialogue without directly asking for it.

Huh. Who knew that Kenny of all people would give him a good advice.

As he moved his hand to grab the phone, Kenny stopped him.

"Wait, before you start making a fool out of yourself, I need to discuss something with you."

"What?" Levi snapped, quickly pulling his hand away. He crossed arms on his chest, glaring at Kenny beneath his eyebrows.

"Remember I told you about a job? We need to do it soon."

His glare turned into a frown. "You said we'll wait..."

"And wait we did." Kenny retorted. "We need to hurry."

Why, Levi wanted to ask. But he felt like he already knew the answer.

"Who is our client?"

Kenny hesitated. For a moment he shifted his gaze to the side. It was all the answer Levi needed.

"It's Reiss, isn't it?"

"Levi it's—"

"It's bullshit, that's what it is!" Levi growled. "I get that Uri was your friend and you owed much to him. But why the fuck you continue working for his deranged brother is beyond me!"

"You don't have to understand anything, Levi." Kenny told him, his gaze hard and his lips pressed in a tight line. "You just need to do what I say."

Kenny stood up, turning on his heels. "End of discussion. I'll call you when I finish the plan."

He left the room without another glance at him. For a few moments, Levi watched the spot his uncle was just sitting at, his anger growing and growing. He wanted to punch something. Or someone. Preferably, Kenny.

He almost rose up to go and do just that, but then he remembered.

Detective Zoe. He needed to text her.

His tea now completely forgotten, Levi grabbed his phone. Kenny was a shithead and a jerk, however... his advice wasn't that bad. But he still had to find a way to implement it. He opened the browser and furrowed his brows. What would Hange enjoy?

A link to an article? Not a bad choice, but what should he chose as a topic? Science? News? History? Or, maybe, a video from YouTube? A song? But he didn't know what music Hange liked and he wasn't sure their music tastes would be compatible. Or maybe—

His musings were suddenly interrupted. By a loud ping. Levi almost jumped at the unexpected noise. He glanced at top of his screen. He had an incoming message. From Hange.

In a span of a heartbeat, Levi opened it.

hey! sorry for being absent for so long, work is kicking my ass :( are you free this evening? do you want to go to that place you've showed me? i have the first day-off in forever :D

It was a simple message. It had no right in making him that flustered.

Levi stood up, went to a sink and put his cup in it. After washing it as thoroughly as possible and wiping his hands, he returned to the table.

He took the phone in his hands, he received a message from Hange five minutes ago. It was probably an appropriate time to respond. He didn't reply instantly, so Hange wouldn't think he's too eager. And he didn't reply too late as well, meaning that he wouldn't come across as negligent.

i'll be there at 8, he wrote back.

He went to brew another cup of tea, an unusual lightness taking residue in his chest. For the first time in five days, he was content.

***

"Hange," Erwin walked up to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. Tearing her gaze away from the papers on her desk, Hange blinked a few times, adjusting to the sudden brightness in the room. The sun was already up? It was up for quite some time, if Erwin was already here. "Did you really spend another night in here?"

The crease between his bush eyebrows was disapproving. Hange averted her eyes in shame.

"I just wanted to check one thing, and I guess I got carried away a bit..."

Erwin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I appreciate what you do, Hange, I really do. I'm proud of what you’ve accomplished, but you need to take care of yourself. C'mon," he wrapped his hand around her arm, pulling her upwards. "Go home and get some sleep. Come back in the morning."

"But—" Hange cried, her eyes widening. "The today's shift has just begun! You want me to skip a whole day of work?"

"That's exactly what I want you to do. The precinct will survive one day without you, Hange."

"But!" she lifted the papers from her desk, shoving them into Erwin's face. "My work! My operation! It's important, Erwin!"

"You did all that you could for now," he reminded, his expression turning darker. "We still have a couple of days before Caven contacts Ackermans to lure them into our trap. So take this time to rest. And then give this operation your best."

"You really won't let me work, eh?" Hange's shoulders sagged, as she put down the papers, the plans she so carefully crafted. "I'll go home then, fine, but," she narrowed her eyes, glaring at Erwin, who, unfortunately, didn't look fazed at all. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"I don't expect anything else," he smiled, patting her arm. "Have a nice day, Hange."

She answered him with a smile of her own, albeit hers was too weak in comparison. With a defeated look, Hange started to pack her things.

She was grateful to Erwin for everything he's done to her, for all the times he stood behind her shoulder, backing her up. Without him, this operation would never be allowed to come to fruition. But all that aside, there were times when Erwin pissed her off so much. Sometimes he became too overbearing, breathing down her neck and pushing her to take a break like he was not her captain, but a mother.

As she turned to give him one last look, Erwin was still watching her, taping his foot impatiently. Sturdy like a rock, Hange’s protests would never sway him. She sighed, putting on her coat and grabbing her bag.

"Bye, chief!" she waved her hand before leaving the office.

As she walked through the hallways of the precinct, expertly avoiding bumping into one of her colleagues, the exhaustion started to catch up with her. She thought long and hard what should she do once she gets home. She could go to sleep, after several nights she spent sleeping at the small, uncomfortable couch in her office, she needed that catch eye more than anything.

But what she could busy herself with afterwards? Working was out of question, she left all printed documents in the office, and, knowing Erwin, he already blocked her access to the precinct's database. So what was left...

Hange pondered on it, taping a point finger against her lips.

And then— it hit her. Levi.

Levi!

She promised to text him after their date. And that was - Hange took out her phone, checking the date - fuck, that was five days ago. Would he still agree to hang out, she wondered.

Only one way to find out, Hange decided, unlocking her phone and opening the last chat with Levi.

***

They agreed to meet at eight. Levi entered the café at 7:30. He sat down at a table in the corner, the one that was separated from the rest of the café by a thin wall. He ordered tea and prepared to wait. He watched the entrance intently, his heart racing every time the door opened.

He finished his first cup and went outside to have a smoke. He ordered his second cup and soon finished it too. He had another cigarette. He walked inside again and ordered another cup. He paused from watching the entrance to glance at his wristwatch.

8:31

Hange was running late. Again. He was starting to see a pattern here.

He was thinking of going for another smoke break, when Hange finally stumbled inside. Red-faced and panting, she rushed to the table Levi was sitting at.

"Sorry!" she cried out, her voice ringing in the quietness of the small café and reverberating from its walls. "I swear it's not intentional, I just—" she took a deep breath. Levi pushed the unfinished cup in her direction and Hangs gulped in one go. "I just overslept."

"Overslept?" his eyebrows went so high they reached his hairline. He checked his wrist watch. "It's almost nine o'clock."

"Crazy day!" Hange giggled, sitting on the opposite side of Levi. "But I'm glad I finally get to see you! It's been a while!"

"It was," Levi nodded. It was good to see Hange, even though he couldn't quite find the words to express it.

"What do you wish to order?"

"I'll leave it up to you," Hange replied, smiling. She was sitting with her chin resting on her hand, and her eyes looking straight at Levi. Under her gaze, it was hard not to fidget.

"Do I have something on my face?" he asked, getting more and more flustered with each second.

"Nope," she said. "I just like looking at you, that's all."

Levi felt heat rise to his face. How the hell he should answer that?

"You reek," he blurted out. He cringed as soon as these words left his mouth. What is wrong with you, the voice in his head - the one that sounded exactly like Kenny - wondered.

Hange, however, didn't look fazed in the slightest.

"Yeah, sorry about that,” where any other – sane – person would start throwing insults or possibly even slap him, Hange just carelessly shrugged. “I was kinda living in my office and didn't have the time to take a shower. Today is the first time I came home, and I was so excited to see you that I totally forgot to clean up."

What she just said - it disgusted Levi beyond compare. Hange’s hair was greasy, her body emanated heinous odor of sweat and he was pretty sure she hadn’t brush her teeth too.

But at the same time - what she just said - it made Levi's chest feel weird. His heart skipped a beat and a warm, fluttery feeling settled in his stomach. It almost made him forget about his disgust.

"So what you've been up to?" he asked after Hange's order arrived.

She looked up from a cake she'd been devouring to give him a silly grin. The corners of her mouth were stained with cream. Levi sighed, bending over the table to wipe it out.

"Thanks," she mumbled. "And about work... sorry," she spread her arms. "That's kinda classified."

Of course, it'd be naive to think Hange would reveal her cards so easily. But if he could get at least something from her...

"You seem pretty excited," he noted, watching her carefully.

"I am!" Hange exclaimed, sending another spoon of cake into her mouth. "I feel very, very good about this operation. I've been working for more than a year to get to those bastards. Can't believe I'm so close to doing it!"

A chill ran through his spine. Hange was close. Hange was close to catching them. They needed to run, needed to get out of the city. He had to warn Kenny. Before it became too late.

His heart beat in unsteady rhythm and his hands turned clammy, as he tried to concentrate on what Hange was saying. His thoughts were going in circles, as he forced himself to snap out of it. He had to keep up his lie, had to play the role until the end, otherwise he risked rising Hange’s suspicions.

He had to think of something, some change of topic, something that would distract him from his possible downfall.

Putting on his best poker face, he straightened up, looking her in the eyes and willing his heart to calm down. A new direction to their conversation was already at the tip of his tongue.

Unfortunately, talking had never been his strong forte.

"I have been wondering..." Hange perked up. Levi winced, continuing. "Are you a cat or dog person?"

***

Finally, he was in his element.

After numerous discussions and arguments with Kenny, he was unable to convince him to leave. Not until they finish this job, or so Kenny had said.

“It's a piece of cake”, he had said. “The easiest job we've done in a while. Walk in, grab the money and walk out.”

“We can leave the city after that for a while,” he added. “Go on a vacation, travel to Caribbean or some shit.”

Levi hoped it wasn't one of Kenny's bullshit lies. They needed to get going and soon, the threat was hanging over them, so close that Levi could almost feel the tip of that metaphorical sword on the top of his head. But Kenny didn't understand. And Kenny wouldn't understand, because explaining to him meant revealing the way he got this information. And Levi couldn't allow that to happen. If Kenny finds out, he would never trust him again.

Or worse, he would decide to do something stupid. For example, try to outsmart the police. His uncle was a cunning man, but Levi knew what Hange was capable of. And he had met her boss, Erwin Smith. Kenny didn't stand a chance against the two of them.

To his credit, Kenny didn't lie, not this time at least. Getting inside the house was indeed surprisingly easy.

***

"First, you hack into security cameras," Kenny had instructed. "Judging by the blueprints of the house, there shouldn't be many of them."

"The house is small then?"

"Not the smallest one we've robbed."

"Who is our target?"

"Don't remember the name," Kenny gave his flippant reply, scratching the back of his neck. "But he's some big shot politician."

Politicians? Since when did they start targeting politicians? Something was up...

"Don't give me that look, Levi!" Kenny snapped, taking notice of Levi's furrowed eyebrows. "It doesn't matter anyway. What matters is this - will you be able to get through their security system?"

Levi huffed, rolling his eyes. "Please. Do you really need to ask?"

***

Just like Kenny had said, getting in was surprisingly easy. He hacked into security cameras and turned off the alarms in a record seven minutes time. And that incredible feat was achieved, despite the fact that he was working, using a shitty Wi-Fi signal from a nearby cafe.

Once that was done, they could move to a next stage of a plan.

***

"I take it the house is surrounded by a fence?"

Kenny huffed. "Obviously."

"Barbed wire? Guards? Dogs?"

"Nothing of the sort. We're breaking into a house, Levi, not a prison."

They broke into a prison once, to help escape one of Kenny's associates. It was a tough job. And a surprisingly fun one.

"We just climb the fence and that's it,” Kenny assured. “Don't worry, I'll help you do it."

"Fuck off," Levi growled, sending Kenny a death glare. When his uncle did nothing, but smirk, he scoffed and returned his attention to the blueprints on the table. "What do we do next? Which entrance do we use to get in?"

"Whichever we want to," Kenny replied, shrugging. "The house will be empty."

Levi pursed his lips. "You sure?"

"Sure as can be. The whole family is going on some kind of auction for rich assholes. Reiss will be there too, he promised to make sure that our guy stays for as long as possible."

"At least, he's useful for something," Levi muttered. His finger traced the outline of blueprint, as he announced his decision. "We'll use the back door. No need to raise suspicions. Who knows how nosy his neighbors are."

***

Another advantage of using the backdoor was a fact that usually they weren't as protected as the main entrance.

And this door was no exception, Levi picked its lock in less than thirty seconds.

"Welcome," he grunted, pushing the door open and letting Kenny go in first.

The house, as expected, was engulfed in darkness. Kenny with his black pants and jacket instantly merged with the shadows. After carefully closing the door, Levi joined him, becoming one with the darkness as well.

***

"Do we know where he keeps the money?"

"Where do all rich douches keep their money?" Kenny snorted. "The study, of course."

"Alright, so we do what? Just simply walk in there?"

"You want to use the window? Or try looking for a ventilation shaft? It's an easy job, Levi," Kenny patted his shoulder. "Relax and don't overthink it."

***

The house was not only dark, it was quiet. The unnatural silence got on Levi's nerves.

Usually when they were on a job, there were other people there. Banks were full of workers, going about their jobs several floors above the vaults, museums and art galleries had guards, casinos were bristling with noise and chatter no matter the time of a day. And when they escaped the noise, moving closer to their goal, silence was a good thing. Silence meant they were undetected, meant they were safe. Silence used to bring him comfort.

This house was an exception. The silence there... It didn’t give him a sense of safety, only unease. It made him even more alert than usual.

The smiling faces in photo frames that stared at Levi from every wall were unnerving him even more. Two redheaded kids, standing between their grinning parents seemed completely out of place in this dark, silent house. Levi breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached the study.

"You take care of the safe," Kenny told him. "I look around."

Levi gave him a curt nod and, without another word, set out to work.

The safe was of medium size and it stood in the corner of the room, half hidden by a large dieffenbachia.

Levi crouched next to it, taking out his instruments.

The safe broke down quickly. It almost felt like an insult. Kenny and him were world class thieves. And this house could be easily robbed by an amateur.

Smoldering his annoyance, he opened the safe. As soon as he did, Kenny pushed him aside. He grabbed something from it, pocketing it inside his jacket. His movements were quick and the room was dark, but Levi's eyes were sharp. He saw a document - a birth certificate - and a photo of a young girl whose blond hair was vivid enough to be visible even in the darkness.

"What the fuck was it?" Levi hissed.

"Does it matter?" Kenny laughed so carelessly that to Levi's ears it sounded almost forced and insincere. "Let's just get out of here.”

He threw the door of the safe shut and turned around, motioning Levi to get going. Levi grabbed the back of his jacket before Kenny could take another step.

Perhaps, he was getting paranoid – he hoped he was – but he had heard something.

The noise, the barely audible clatter downstairs. And the sound of footsteps that sounded closer and closer.

"Fuck!" Kenny hissed, his eyes widening. So he wasn’t paranoid. "Shit! They were supposed to be gone for another hour at least!"

"And yet they're already here," Levi snapped, the tension getting to him as well. "We’re on a second floor, jumping is—"

“The only way to escape,” Kenny finished grimly. “Go, Levi.”

He didn’t like the way Kenny had said that. And he really didn’t like the hand that Kenny put under his jacket.

That’s where he kept his gun.

His heart fell.

“Kenny, no!” Levi whispered, urgently tagging at his sleeve.

“Hurry up, Levi,” Kenny replied, unusually quiet. “You don’t like when things get dirty.”

“Ken—”

The door had opened, before Levi could finish. A man, probably somewhere in his forties, stood on a threshold. Levi had seen him in one of the photos - it was the father of the family, the one, who embraced two redheaded children. However, in this moment he wasn’t smiling. His eyes widened, his mouth opened in a scream.

That was devoured by a thunderous gunshot.

“Get going!” Kenny urged, hiding his gun. He grabbed Levi by the collar to drag him forward. “This place is going to be swirling with cops any second now!”

Numbly, Levi followed him. He opened the window, climbed on a windowsill and jumped down. He roughly landed on a ground, the snow softening his fall, but ever so slightly. It left him with scratches on his palms and bruises on his knees.

Levi felt none of it. His ears were still ringing from the gunshot, and before his eyes still stood that man.

“Snap out of it!” Kenny raged, forcing him to stand up. “We need to go, Levi, you can deal with your inner turmoil later.”

“Why did you kill him?” he asked, surprised by the hollowness in his own voice. He stared at Kenny, anger growing inside him. “Why did you kill him?!” he pushed his uncle away, making him stumble. “We could have escaped!”

“And he could have seen us.” Kenny replied, straightening his jacket. “Just a glimpse of our backs would give police an advantage we can’t allow them to have. So stop throwing a tantrum like it’s a first dead body you’ve seen.”

Kenny was right, he had seen his fair share. The first dead body he had seen was his mother’s. But it wasn’t the last one. Not all of their jobs were successful, they didn’t always remain undetected. They weren’t invisible, and, even if they were damn good at what they did, accidents still happened.

Usually those accidents ended in violence – knock the unlucky guard down, before he sees you, and you’re safe. But sometimes – just like today - those accidents ended in death.

It was nothing new to Levi, and yet – each time it happened, he felt the weight in his chest so heavy it threatened to drag him down all the way to the ground.

Violence, death – they were following him since he was born. But dealing with them, getting used to them was a skill Levi had yet to master.

“C’mon,” Kenny wrapped a hand around his shoulders, pushing him forward with uncharacteristic considerateness. “You can scold me for not valuing human life later. When we get home.”

The sirens were already heard in the distance, they had no time for arguing. Levi let himself be led, climbing up the fence and jumping off it. Hidden by shadows, they rapidly left the house behind.

His mind was still filled with images of smiling man from the photo, that vision merging with his dying expression.

***

It was quite a productive shift, Hange was almost pleased by what she had achieved today. The clock was nearing eight, making her contemplate if she should call it a day. There was always more work that could be done, but Erwin could come in any minute, scolding and chiding her.

It was best to be gone before he would throw her out of the office.

Hange was turning off her computer, when the door to her office was thrown open. In stumbled Mike – disheveled, panting, he looked a far cry from his usual tranquil appearance.

Hange felt her stomach drop. A thousand guesses and suspicions swam around her head, as she waited for Mike to catch his breath and start talking.

Judging by Mike’s agitation, it couldn’t be anything good.

“We’ve got another robbery!” he managed to finally say. And before Hange could start cursing, he added.

“And this time, it’s a murder as well.”

#i wonder if there was some kind of foreshadowing in this chapter🤔🤔🤔#levihan

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work-of-waking-up · 4 years ago

Text

In Defense of the Psychopath

Alright, wanna venture into my crazy ass brain? I’m going to start by saying one thing that will set the tone for everything else that follows: Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand them. Why am I even bothering to write about a fictional character, you ask? Because representation is important. Media portrayal of various mental and behavioral health topics (including ones that people might not think need to be discussed) is important and this show has a big audience. I also just want to contribute to the conversations that are taking place because I am seeing A LOT of them and the reason for that I believe boils down to the fact that Jodie makes Villanelle so relatable and people want to know what that means and looks like for them. Even those who felt they could relate to Sandra’s Eve, or the relationship between the two, maybe questioned what that meant the further they went down the path with them. “It’s probably a bad thing I relate to a psychopath, right? But she can’t be a psychopath because she cries and she feels things! Psychopaths don’t cry, which means she isn’t realistic so therefore it’s okay that I relate to her! Right? Or are my assumptions about psychopaths and people with antisocial personality disorder wrong? I relate to Eve but look what she is underneath it all...so does that mean I relate to that part of her too?” Not only is villanelles character relatable, but people see the freedom inherent within her, the freedom that Eve sees, and they realize that, at least on some level, they want it too. The show has (unintentionally I think) created a massive dialogue which is super cool and you can tell everyone involved on the show is aware of that now, I mean they have a consulting psychiatrist so I think that speaks for itself. This is less of a commentary on the character herself and whether or not she is a genuine psychopath, and more so a commentary on the conversations she has inspired and why... For the record, this is literally just my opinion sprinkled with a few facts, nothing else.

So, the term psychopath gets thrown around in the show, more so in the beginning, MI6 explicitly labels Villanelle this way, even going so far as to use her in a presentation about psychopaths, although I think that was more so to gauge Eve’s response than anything else. The reality of Villanelle, which we come to learn, is that nobody has been able to get close enough to really know the truth. Anna and Konstantin both got close but we never hear either of them use that word (Konstantin says it once but he clearly doesn’t mean it, it was more of an attempted manipulation tactic). They make it clear that she has, and can, and WILL cause damage, but that’s as far as they go. Eve is getting close and she tells Villanelle when they first meet that she knows Villanelle is a psychopath but it’s obvious from Eve's behavior and things she says later on that she truly doesn’t believe Villanelle is what everyone says she is. It’s easier to label her as a psychopath because that alienates and isolates her and her behavior completely. She is an outlier with behavioral anomalies and therefore it isn’t necessary to look any closer. For MI6 and others (not talking about the shows creators) to label Villanelle as a psychopath is easy, it’s lazy, it’s reductive, it serves a single purpose... a means to an end. They (anyone other than Eve basically) simply do not care about Villanelle’s truth. But as an audience we are lucky enough to see more of her with each episode. The psychopath label begins to fade and Oksana is what’s left. We know based on what she has said that she is aware that people think she is a psychopath, a monster, a person built to kill. It’s not always easy to decide that who you are is different from who you’ve always been told you are, especially given her history. Villanelle hasn’t told us yet if she thinks (or knows) that she is a psychopath, but it’s clear towards the end of last season that she no longer wants to be the person that they (meaning the twelve, Dasha, Konstantin, etc.) created. We see moments where she clearly has no remorse and clearly enjoys what she does, but then we have little moments sprinkled in between where she very obviously struggles, even if its short lived. And those moments are important. We have the moment where she struggles with the choice to shoot Konstantin, saying he is a good person, she thinks. This comes shortly after a conversation she had where Irina tells Villanelle she thinks she is a good person because she is sad, so we know she is thinking about it, we know the awareness is there, and it becomes more and more there as times goes on. I like to think of it in terms of having moments that are pure Villanelle (ie the way she killed Inga in the Russian prison), and then we have moments that are Oksana, vulnerable and emotional. Villanelle is a creation and a mask whereas oksana is the truth. Those moments are starting to really mean something. I'm not even going to start with her trip to find her family, that’s its own thing, but it's a Really Big Thing.

So. Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand and perceive them. Yes, she displays psychopathic traits, and yes, she absolutely has antisocial personality disorder. I read an article where the psychiatric consultant for the show (makes it pretty obvious how hard they worked to make Villanelle as realistic as possible) said that the Villanelle in Luke Jenning’s books scored a 32 on Hare’s psychiatric checklist, but I like to think (and I think a lot of people would agree) that number is a bit high, at least for Jodie’s Villanelle, maybe not even hitting 30 at all (close though, let’s be real lol). The max score is 40 which would be a fully blown primary psychopath. For reference, Ted Bundy scored 39. This checklist is flawed though, mostly created and based off the prison population. Which is why it isn’t used as a proper diagnostic tool. 32 is apparently extraordinarily high for a female (think Aileen Wuornos), which brings me to my next point which is that because it’s hard to measure a lot of the classic traits objectively, there is not a ton of solid data surrounding psychopathy, and even less of it is on female psychopaths. Like most things in life, psychopathy exists on a spectrum, there are levels and layers. It’s not black and white, there’s no definitive test (psychopathy isn’t even in the DSM-5 because as I said earlier it’s extremely hard to measure objectively) and it's important to distinguish between someone who exhibits psychopathic traits and someone who is actually an identifiable psychopath. Chances are high that someone you know displays at least one characteristic shared with psychopaths and this doesn’t make them one.

I think what’s important about this is that mental disorders (mental illness/personality disorders/etc.) of any kind are much more nuanced than a lot of people tend to think they are. That they exist less in black and white and more in shades of grey. Jodie Comer is absolutely remarkable for showcasing that through portraying the different layers of Villanelle. Her performance is a literal gift. We cannot keep thinking and acting like we know everything about how a person thinks, feels, and behaves based strictly and entirely on one label. The thing that has stuck out to me the most, the reason I decided to even write this bullshit babble, is that one of the most searched topics about the show is whether or not it’s realistic that Villanelle cries, and honestly how sad is that? That makes me sad for V. Is it more realistic for her to develop connections and cognitive empathy if she was made into a psychopath vs if she was born that way? Is there a legitimate difference between the two? And how do we even decide which one is applicable for someone? It’s important to add that antisocial personality disorder is not the same thing as psychopathy or sociopathy. You can have aspd and not be a psychopath. Research has shown that about only a third of those diagnosed with aspd would meet criteria to be considered a psychopath. Society is not doing a great job at getting people to understand this. But to be fair, understanding personality disorders specifically has been somewhat problematic, a lot of diagnostic confusion and overlap between disorders. A LOT of work needs to be done. But as far as portrayals go, society has strictly chosen to go the route of giving us psychopathic characters and having them be inherently violent, incapable of remorse, feelings, or change. Poverty of all emotions. Subhuman. They are made out to be so abnormal and unrelatable to the point where the character of Villanelle has sparked so much debate and fascination simply because she exists in a way that actually IS relatable...and layered and beautiful and thrilling. We thought she would be the bad guy and yet we root for her at every turn, we cry for her, we want good things for her! We see her darkness and without question or hesitation we forgive it. She makes us question what we’ve previously been shown. Questioning whether or not it’s realistic that she acts the way she does is less important than questioning our own personal assumptions and beliefs and where those come from. I think that’s awesome. Villanelle is truly a gift. She is hands down one of the most well written fictional characters, which is saying a lot considering when you put something, or someone, in a box it doesn’t leave tons of room for expansion. and I honestly don’t even really need to say this, but.. Jodie Comer.

#killing eve #villanelle #jodie comer #eve polastri #sandra oh #villaneve #feel free to rb #if you want #oksana astankova

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Exotic Lifeforms.”

Had some fun writing this one. Give you more of that alien perspective everyone likes so much, so I hope you like it

“It has been a pleasure doing work with you as always.”

“Your end of the deal?”

“Already upheld…. Where do you even find these creatures. I can’t say we have ever seen anything like it.”

“We found these ones on a stroke of luck. We do not think they are native to the panet, though where they came from is still very much a mystery.”

“Then what a stroke of luck for us indeed, I can’t imagine having your job.”

“You should try sometime, the exotic lifeforms business is very lucrative. If it hadn’t been you, I would have sold it to a wealthy owner.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because, you paid more.”

The Vitan turned ponderously on its five trunk-like legs and left through the open wall which spilled a beam of light through the room before going dark once more.

The doors all around the circular room closed, the collector turned back to their work. The room itself was large and dark, shaped in that of a large black circle, the floors rising up with a steady curve into the ceiling than above. They stood at the center of this circle, and when commanded great projections of blue light appeared around the circle each disclosing a different image from a different one of the pens.

They turned their attention to the newest addition, watching the creature where it prowled back and forth around the perimeter of the yard.

Another beam of light cut through the room, though they did not turn to see who it might be.

The sound that followed was a sort of scuttling noise, slimy and wet against the open floor.

The Mandicar approached from behind and paused just to the right and behind their left side, a lead scientist by trade, she was one of the most important life forms on his staff.

They turned to address her.

Four thick stumpy tentacles undulated and wriggled, pulling her heavy body across the floor. The sacules on the side of her torso wobbled with her movement, and thousands of tiny breathing holes across her skin expanded and contracted with the movement of airflow.

“What have you discovered?” They wondered, though-- nothing the tint of blue on the tips of her tentacles, the could see that she was very excited.

“A glorious discovery! Very exciting and like nothing we have ever seen before. Each creature better than the last. I have four new species to report about, and add to our collected knowledge on exoctic lifeforms.”

“Go on.”

“The names are decided Duopedus Secandi, Volantes Planita, and Magnum Turpis, Though the children have taken to calling the first a Duos because they cannot pronounce the proper scientific name. It is a very popular creature with our guests, very active. IT has even been seen to interact with some of the guests.”

“Tell me, what have you learned about this creature.”

She adjusted herself clearly excited to be giving a presentation. That is why they had hired her. While they were not particularly interested about the welfare and maintenance of these creatures, studies had shown that a happy creature that was well taken care of was more likely to live a long time, and therefore draw more of a profit. Not to mention that the sentient species tended to react best when there was someone around to boost enthusiasm, and he had to admit she was very good at that.

“Oh it's a lovely little creature, quite adorable really, the way it scampers around on its little feet.”

“Focus.”

“Oh, sorry.” The sacules at her sides flushed purple, “Well we know the basic so far. Obviously it is a bipedal carbon-based consumer lieform. Its primary needs are Oxygen and water. An analysis of its structures, including teeth, eyes and other notable features seem to suggest that it is an omnivorous predator. Early studies seem to suggest it has a relatively high IQ, maybe that of a small child though it does not seem capable of language, at least not that we understand. It’s range of speech are in extremely high pitches, and it barely seems to be able to hear us much less us hear it.”

“How very interesting.”

“Isn’t it! Anyway, I took the liberty of analysing it, so that we might better accommodate its needs. And so far what I have determined is,... well the creature is very cute, but it is a complete biohazard risk.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all of its byproducts are completely volatile and hazardous to health. We have tested and analysed some of it by products and determined it to have some sort of symbiotic relationship with bacteria that live in its innards. These bacteria help the creature digest in exchange for maintained life, but due to this many of these bacterial lifeforms are expelled and cause great hazard. This process begins in the mouth meaning if this creature were to bite, it could lead to a likely lethal infection.” “We will have to put barriers in front of the enclosure than.”

“Precisely.”

“ Now as to more health related topics. The creature is capable of consuming a very versatile diet though its resistance to infection is a little less than one might have hoped, so it’s food will need to be properly cleaned. The diet itself should contain a wide variety of complex structures as it cannot produce by itself some of the chemicals required to feed it. That should not be hard, I would suggest injecting supplements into the food we are already rationing to it. This should include meat as I have said before. As a consumer based lifeform it both requires and expends a great deal of energy. I imagine it will be one of the viewers favorites due to the increased activity level. Furthermore -- as related to my earlier discussion -- its pen should be cleaned weekly if not biweekly. A clean water source should be provided, one that has likely been sterilized as it seems the water on its native planet was not prone to bacterial interference.”

“Seems strangely needy for a creature that has a symbiotic relationship with bacteria.”

“A very specific kind of bacteria.”

“Alright then, what else do we know?”

“The creature is bipedal as you are aware, though its feet and skin are relatively soft. It will require sand in its enclosure for maximum comfort, not to mention that it will need a shaded place to rest in order to stay out of the direct rays of the sun. Its skin has no natural defences against UV light making me think that it is likely a creature meant for the shade, though I cannot be certain. That is merely a guess based on the very light color of its dermal layer.”

They nodded, “That can definitely be arranged.”

“Now, analysis also demonstrates a high production of oil in the skin and the hair. We see this as some kind of over-production, so it might be best to add a second kind of water source for it to bathe itself. The skin is water-proof but also requires moisture, and I think that a slow running river through the habitat would be a nice touch for the creature. Since it does not have fur, and the body has to work to thermoregulate, I would suggest temperatures around 75-80 degrees with 45-55% humidity index. Furthermore analysis of the bone structure might suggest that the creature originally evolved from an animal that walked on all fours, for this reason the feet, the knees and the lower back are especially prone to issue. IT will need somewhere comfortable to lay down, likely in that same shaded area I mentioned before. Something with enough padding to support the spine and allow for the bones of its hips and shoulders not to become soar.”

They were working to type this up in a report and send it out to the lieforms who built the habitats.

“What else do we know?”

“Since the creature has an increased intelligence quotient, I would suggest stimulating the environment. Add in some kind of activities or puzzles for it to solve, so that it will not be bored, otherwise it could become destructive. OUr analysis suggests that it was likely supposed to be a social creature, so Maybe adding a ground level window for it to interact with guests. We can see if maybe we can tame the creature so that the keepers might be able to provide it with some socialization. I hesitate to do that though because it still is a wild animal.”

They shifted turning to look at the camera feed, where the Duos was still wandering the perimeter of its enclosure.

“I thought you said it was docile.”

“It was injured when we found it, which was a likely reason, but I have done some tests on its chemical structure, and it seems to me that the creature produces some kind of hormone that stimulates the aggression centers of its brain. If this creature were to get out of its cage and be in a bad mood, it has a bite force of 162 pounds per square inch which is capable of tearing flesh and even amputating small lims on some of our guests, not to mention that the claws on the tips of its fingers can break skin. There is also evidence that it can turn its saliva into a projectile, which means that it can spread its biohazard up to around 32 feet, though that is on the extreme end of the spectrum.”

“This creature is really than dangerous?””

She sighed loudly through her entire body, the sacks at her sides quivering with the movement, “You see, that is the difficult part to determine because…. I would have to say no. It is not as dangerous generally as most of the creatures we keep here, but it is just dangerous enough in a variety of ways that the aggregate makes it especially concerning. Take the fact that the creature is not venomous, but it's just enough of a biohazard to behave like it is. Its bite isn’t that strong and its teeth aren’t that sharp, but still enough to rip flesh. Its not as strong as some animals, but strong enough to know someone over and hurt them badly. It isn’t very fast, but faster than some. IT isn’t the smartest we have seen -- that goes to the Volontes Planita-- but it is smart enough that we have to be careful. It isn’t aggressive, but it has the potentiality to be.” She ran her tentacles over the ground, “I think what I am trying to say is that the creature isn’t particularly impressive in any one aspect, but its abilities are so diverse than it aggregates into something greater than the sum of its parts.”

They nodded in great interest, “Go on.”

“It can run, it can jump, it can bite, it can spit, it can throw, it can crawl, oh and it can climb, that is probably something important you are going to have to look out for. An analysis of its feet and hands suggest great dexterity of a four legged creature that once spent most of its timb climbing, and while this creature spends most of its time walking on land there are still structures in there that make it an excellent climber as it can grip very well with the hands and partially with the feet. The hands in particular are an important structure to keep an eye on as the creature has an amazing dexterity with them.”

“How so?”

“IF could probably perform complex medical procedures if we asked it to, not that that would really be possible.”

“Good, good. I will get this down to the workers immediately, and they will make an enclosure for it.”

“Ah…. but there is one more thing.”

“What is that?”

“It seems as if we are not the first one to have captured this creature?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” They demanded, turning around to look at the scientist with great interest and agitation.

“The body is not completely organic. The skeletal structure on its outer layer that we once thought of as some kind of exoskeleton is not organic.”

“Not organic!”

“No sir, it seems to be made out of titanium and steel. Not to mention that one of its legs has been replaced, along with one of its eyes.”

They stood there in shock not entirely sure what to think about that, “It survived without one of its limbs.”

“Yes whatever happened to this creature, one of the legs and the eyes was removed and replaced with analogues. As for the creature itself, it is very durable, and has overactive scar tissue meaning that it heals quickly and from extreme injuries. That is another reason that I express my concern to you as it seems this creature may not be taken down by normal means especially if some other life form has been tampering with it.”

“That is…. horrible .”

Another long sigh, “I know…. Its horrible what they did to it. I can’t believe someone would be so callous. How it must have suffered.”

“Well, get it moved into a new enclosure, and see that its needs are taken care of. I want to send some of my people back to see if we can learn anything about the species that has been tampering with it.”

“Of course.”

She turned and headed towards the door.

They called after her and she turned, “Be careful, if that creature is half as dangerous as you say it is, we will want to be cautious.” ***

I was not going with them.

I sat at the center of my ‘pen’ arms crossed and looking at the open cage door at the other side of the enclosure.

These asshole bastards had put me in a fucking zoo,and now they expected me to cooperate for a measly piece of fruit. Despite popular opinion from my brothers I am not a fucking monkey and will not be bribed to go with out.

I had already done a preliminary examination of the enclosure. It was nothing to write home about -- aside form the fact that I was it’s occupant which bothered me greatly, and made me feel some serious feelings for the lions at the zoo who must have been just as pissed off as I was.

The walls were too high and too smooth to climb, and at their top I could see a thousand eyes staring down at me. Now its not like there were a thousand people to look on, but some of these freaky aliens had like ten ees which greatly skewed the eye count.

They gestured with tentacles and limbs and and any other appendages towards me as I sat arms crossed glowering towards the door.

A part of me greatly wanted to flip all of them off or moon them or something, but just because I was being treated like a monkey didn’t mean I had to act like one.

I could see the handlers moving just outside the cages trying to coax me in by tossing in more fruit. In a way watching them struggle was kind of funny. Based on their behavior, I would wager to say they had no idea that I was sentient. If they ever found out this was going to ook really stupid for them.

Now if they have a plate of my mom’s Pumpkin Pie in there, than MAYBE that would work, number one because pie is great and number two because that would imply they were keeping my mother captive to make pies, which was something I could hardly stand for.

Let them do what they want.

I needed to find a way out because this was DEFINITELY not ok.

This is not how I was going to spend the rest of my days.

For sure.

I had to be smart about this. Sitting there in the sand I began to devise a plan. The important part obviously was not to let on about how intelligent I really was. Unfortunately a lot of that might already have been undone, but maybe if I acted enough like an animal, than it would lower their guard and they would make somes sort of mistake.

Remember, I still had the Iron eye armor on my side, and an advanced prosthetic leg. Not to mention a knife and two spearheads which had been concealed under my leaves, so I was not completely helpless.

Although, you know what, retract my earlier statement. Maybe acting like a monkey is exactly what I needed to do to get out of this place. Make myself look docile and harmless, lower security and get my ass out of here.

Man I wish I was smarter, for sure, but I guess flying by the seat of my pants was going to have to do.

I cracked my knuckles and then my neck.

Time to go back to my animal roots.

Yeah, laugh all you want but it is much easier to behave like an animal when you are actually behaving like an animal. I couldn’t convince them i wasn't bipedal already, but I made sure to behave all the other ways like an animal, slowly and nervously approaching the opening, stepping half in and then backing out, quickly grabbing some fruit and then running off with it. Eating pieces of it messily and with both hands. Using my teeth as much as possible.

Yeah yeah, I felt pretty dumb, but this was my first idea so I might as well roll with it.

Once that piece of fruit was done, I wandered over and nervously crawled in on all fours testing the ground with my hands.

OF course I could already see the hatch way that was going to come slamming down as soon as I crawled inside. I may be an idiot but I am a sentient idiot, and just as I thought it would, as soon as I crawled in far enough, the door slammed shut. I made a big show of getting spooked and racing around the sindie of the cage jumping up against the walls until finally curling up piteously in a corner. All the while I am watching carefully how they contain me, and it seems as if their transfer method is pretty solid. I had more likelihood of breaking out in the pen.

I wait quietly in my corner as the box is moved, and suddenly the door slides open again.

I do my best to look hesitant and scared as I poke my head out into the sun.

A waft of pleasantly warm air hits me.

Crawling out, I crawl out onto nice warm sand. A stream trickles past my feet not a few feet away, and just to my right a little shaded nest has been made up below a tall covering. There are branches and steel bars lined around the enclosure, meaning I guess they figured out that humans can climb.

Overhead I can see a steel cage cutting off my escape from the top.

Or so they thought.

It was a pleasant little place all told, almost like a beachfront island paradise with the perfect temperature and humidity.

I crawled up over to the next and took a seat hidden behind the leaves.

Well fuck their beachfront property and comfortable captivity.

I would rather be a free man suffering than a well groomed pet in a cage.

I was going to escape.

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years ago

Note

Ok imma be honest, this chapter moved me to tears and not the sad sobbing but the more inspiring kind. This chapter means the world.

She had told them her dreams were about ducks – since there were the only equally horrible thing she could think of.

Uncle Magnus had given her an odd look then, as if he knew she was bullshitting them. But he hadn’t said anything.

DUCKS AREN'T THAT BAD! HAVE Y'ALL EVER BEEN CHASED BY A GOAT?? I WAS CONVINCED I WAS GONNA DIE

Lexi would be royally pissed if this turned out to be some stupid pointless dream.

YUP

Even though she was only 7 minutes older than Lexi, Selena always acted like she was 7 years older.

That's so cute though

People looked at her pastel-coloured aesthetic immediately assumed she was the soft and sweet Fairchild twin. People saw Selena in her red leather jacket and thigh high boots and assumed she was in the infamous troublesome Herondale twin.

SMH THE DAMN STEREOTYPES

Why Selena hadn’t killed her in her sleep yet, Lexi doesn’t know.

BYE THAT'S EVERY SIBLING RELATIONSHIP EVER

The meals at the Academy were to die for – quite literally. Last week two students from the warlock fraction had almost killed each other over a blueberry muffin.

Oh how times change...they will never know the dreaded soup

NO ANJALI HAS BEEN GONE FOR OVER A YEAR???

IS JAIME OK?? PLEASE BE OK! HE CAN LIVE WITH TREATMENT SO I REALLY HOPE HE'S OK

Selena’s was Idris of course. She was kind of obsessed with it.

Max loved the shadow markets. Lexi thought they were very cool too.

Rafael loved his father’s office – which was weird. There was nothing to do in that room other than ponder about shadow world problems. Besides, the place still weirdly smelled like the tangerine perfume Anjali wore, even though the girl had left New York almost a year ago.

David loved the New York Institute – especially the library.

Gigi of course loved the dining halls.

Dining halls, kitchens, food trucks, vending machines - if a place had food with it, Gigi loved it.

It's so amazing how they all have their favorite places...(same David same)

“You’re supposed to pour the syrup on the pancakes not into your mouth,” Lexi chuckled as she sat down next to her.

“It ends up in my mouth anyway,” Gigi shrugged.

True enough.

AWW ROMAN MAKING GIGI PLAYLISTS!!

Someone make me a playlist.

“His parents fell in love in Rome when they were in Rome,” Gigi pointed out even though Lexi already knew. “I think it’s actually romantic.”

I had forgotten that-

Roman was nice. But not nice enough for Georgia. Lexi didn’t think there was anyone good enough for her parabatai – who was the most perfect person in the world.

Me @ anyone who tries to make a move at my best friend.

AWW GEORGIA LIKES HIM TOO!!

When's the wedding?

(you're telling me you didn't believe you were gonna marry your childhood crush? Liar)

“I like being his friend,” Georgia said. “I like spending time with him and all of that. But I don’t know if I like him…in that way. I feel like I need more time.”

Demiromantic??? YES GIVE US THE REP

Lexi sometimes thought life would be so much simpler if the world was full of women and everyone was a lesbian.

Ikr?? Life would be so much easier.

Lexi says Roman is too-nice-sus

Well well well

The kind of love that cheated death.

The kind of love that sustained memory spells put by princes of hell.

The kind of love that changed the world.

Trust me all of our standards are very high

Lexi successfully survived the class without falling asleep.

Me during English.

Ok who's the blond?

Lexi I thought we weren't gonna fall this soon-

Oh the girl's straight...sigh we've all been there.

which meant they had to hold hands. Kinda.

Lexi was a little scared of that.

Me.

Goddamnit, Alexandra. Get your gay together!

THAT'S SO RELATABLE LIKE?? YES

OH MY GOD IT'S EMMA AND JULIAN'S DAUGHTER GEIDIDHDOHDJSKSJSKGXJDHSODHKDGDDGDJHDJDGDJDGJDHD

Lexi knew Olivia liked boys. She hadn’t dated anyone officially of course. All the boys were kind of terrified of her father.

She could be bi or pan or omni. WE GOTTA HAVE HOPE

vegetable loaf... David I'm so sorry you had to go through this.

Lexi then decided not to do any of her homework over the weekend because she was not coming back to the academy. She was not going to survive the sleepover and whatever else Olivia had in mind.

Bestie...why is this me when I make eye contact with my crush.

“Good stuff?” Max snorted. “Rafe literally ran away from home cause shit got too intense.”

“I didn’t run away!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Stop telling people that!”

“But you have rumours and shadowhunters getting thrown into silent city and cohort drama and all that exciting stuff!” Liv pointed out.

I-

Liv-

True though.

“Wasn’t there a serial killer when your parents were young?” David asked.

“And didn’t your uncle do necromancy?” Max said biting into a chicken wing.

True and true

“Sorry, Chouchou!” Lexi winced. “I, uh, sensed a mosquitoe on your leg.”

“Girl, your angel powers are weird as fuck,” Max laughed.

MAX LANGUAGE

“I don’t know,” the girl shrugged and threw her a wink. “I wouldn’t put anything past Lexi.”

Lexi looked at Gigi. She was one more compliment away from screaming.

But Gigi of course knew her struggle and therefore quickly stuffed a bread roll into Lexi’s mouth.

I need someone to stuff bread into my mouth when things get like this

There were rumours about David – and how Daddy had an affair. Lexi was yet to find those asshats and shove a witch light down their throats.

When you find them lemme know too.

“Or maybe it’s because you don’t need rumours be interesting,” David pointed out.

Max turned around, looking surprised at that. His cheeks turned purple. Lexi didn’t know why he was surprised. David only ever spoke fondly of Max.

JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY OH MY GOD

“Oh. Oh! I did hear something a long time ago!” Gigi said suddenly. “Olly, is it true you were conceived at the beach?”

“Georgia, you can’t just ask people where they were conceived!” David sounded horrified.

That is very much possible.

“I heard you were conceived in hell?”

“Oh my god,” Selena looked horrified. “That’s not true! It must have been about Max!”

“Y’all I am adopted!” Max was shaking with laughter and then stopped. “Although our dads could have definitely had sex in hell. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Oh yes. Both clace and malec.

Then they had of course continued to discuss that cursed topic until Rafael had threatened to tell the Consul about it.

LMAO

Lexi turned around and saw Liv waiting for her. Nope. She wasn’t going to talk a walk – a fucking stroll! – with Olivia all on her own.

“You are coming back to the institute with me or I will un-parabatai you.”

You know there being an un-parabatai ceremony would solve a lot of shit

What if their hands accidentally grazed or something? That shit was lethal.

RIGHT????

She is just trying to be nice. That’s what friends do. They are nice. And they give each other pretty dresses and say they would like to see them in it.

Honey that's gay.

EVERYONE ASKING HER OUT IM DEAD

Selena: Ugh boys

Selena: When I win back Idris, we are leaving all the men behind.

Lexi: Except Magnus? Lol.

Selena: Obviously.

Is that even a question Lexi? Duh.

ALEC LIGHTWOOD THOUGHT SHE WAS STRAIGHT? THE SHAME!

OH MY GOD IM CACKLING

Not everyone can kiss their partner in the Accords Hall. Some people didn’t have access to the Accords Hall.

And most important, some people didn’t have partners!

We're getting a lexi and Alec talk someone hold me

“I’m going to tell you something,” Uncle Alec said. “It might sound simple. It might sound ridiculous. But it’s the truth. So, you must believe me. Can you do that?”

Lexi gave him a small nod.

“It doesn’t matter what other people think,” Uncle Alec said. “Not when it comes to your future. Not when it comes to your identity. They don’t get to have a say in who you are and why you are the way you are.”

Lexi bit her lip.

“Alexandra, people will always tell what to do. But you shouldn’t let them. Never let anyone tell you what to do with your heart or your body. Neither belongs them. It only belongs to you.”

THIS RIGHT HERE MADE ME START CRYING BECAUSE DAMN YES!

“Yep,” she groaned and then hesitated for a moment. “Uncle Alec…Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Can I say no?”

“No.”

“Then go ahead.”

I love her so much

“I feel…I feel it’s something we have to bear, Alexandra. The fear of rejection. It’s something we have to accept as an inevitable part of our lives. Because no matter how much love we have around us, we will always be afraid of people not loving us – simply because of who we are.”

Yeah...

“Besides, they named you after me,” he pointed out. “I don’t know what else they expected.”

EXACTLY! Did they really expect a straight child after naming them after Alec?

“I do like shouting,” Lexi wondered out loud. “That’s good advice.”

“I didn’t mean it literally!” Uncle Alec looked alarmed.

“No, it makes total sense!” Lexi grinned. “Some of these people can be tone deaf. Gotta shout it out. Loud and clear. Awesome advice! Thanks, Uncle Alec!”

DO IT

“Hey, Lexi. I was wonderin-”

“MOVE, I’M GAY!” she yelled as she shoved him aside and kept on running.

ABSOLUTELY ICONIC

“I prefer she/her,” Lexi answered. "But sometimes I prefer she/they. But you can use she/her because some of y'all already shit at grammar."

That's exactly what I tell people when they ask for my pronouns. Istg people are shit at grammar.

alright girl im here to give you a lecture on how someone's dressing doesn't describe their sexuality

OH MY MY GOD THERE WAS A GENDER AND SEXUALITY CLASS IN THE ACADEMY ARE THEY RECRUITING???

One of the boys who had complimented cleared his throat. “So, uh, you don’t like boys?”

“That’s literally what I said,” Lexi rolled her eyes. “I’m gay. I’m very gay. I’m gayer than the Consul. Okay fine, that’s not true. No one gayer than the Consul. But I’m still pretty gay.”

Does the boy have hearing problems?

ALSO YES NO ONE'S GAYER THAN THE CONSUL

“Sexual orientation and gender expression are two different things,” she explained now, remember what Uncle Magnus had taught them. “Sexual orientation refers to who I am sexually and romantically attracted to. Gender expression is how I want to express my gender identity. Those two are not connected. Just because a woman wears feminine clothes it doesn’t mean she is straight. Just because a man embraces femininity, it doesn’t make him gay either. Does that make sense?”

“Ohhh,” the girl nodded. “Yes, it does. Thank you!”

“What I wear does not reflect who I like. It reflects who I am and what I like to wear,” Lexi explained. “And regardless of my sexuality, I like pretty things.”

Exactly.

“This doesn’t change anything. I hope you know that,” he told her. “I mean I have to change the pronouns in my shovel talk. But that’s not a big deal.”

Awwww

Also – my good friend Raziel told me that homophobia is a sin.”

“You mean homosexuality is a sin?” an older man asked.

“No, homophobia is a sin,” Lexi repeated. “That’s what Raziel said.”

“But that’s not-”

Someone cleared their throat. When he spoke, it was in the Consul Voice.

“Are you saying know better than Raziel?” the Consul asked.

Listen to Raziel you dumb shit

“Sure. Let me just call the Lesbian Alliance,” Lexi rolled her eyes.

Ugh I wish

OH NO NO NO NOT THE FAKE DATING. JUST CONFESS AND DATE FOR REAL

“Alexandra, I have a fucking undercut and I have pink highlights and I cuff my jeans and I literally walk around with a sword and I can quote Lady Gaga to perfection! Why would you ever think I was straight??”

Lexi your gaydar is broken bestie.

Don't do this omg this is gonna be a mess

Gigi: THIS IS A BAD IDEA. ABORT! ABORT!

Lexi: Relaaaax. It’s going to be fine!

Gigi: I’ve read enough fanfiction to know the fake dating trope never ends well!

Lexi: I’ve told you to include the ‘angst with happy ending’ tag!

LMAO

Also Gigi which fanfiction do you read?

Jace omg...

That's so him though.

“How about my peeps? It sounds very hip.”

“It does not,” Lexi replied. “Please don’t refer to us as your peeps under any circumstance."

IM SCREAMING ASHSKHSIDBSHSHDH

Her father chuckled at that. “Sweetheart, you’re a Herondale. Being problematic is what we do.”

EXACTLY

Daddy opened the notebook again. “I need names.”

Grabs flamethrower names

“Besides, the Lightwoods and Blackthorns have been hogging the gay genes for too long. Now it’s our turn. I say you gay it up.”

“Gay it up?” Lexi laughed.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Go for the highest possible level of gay.”

DO IT

He blinked for a second and then it hit him. “OH MY GOD YES! DOES EMMA KNOW??”

Lexi laughed. Yeah, he can never find out it was a fake dating situation.

Hopefully he won't have to because it won't be fake :D

“To love is a privilege and to be loved is a blessing.”

THE GROWTH OH MY GOD

This chapter literally means so much to me. I don't even know what to say. I hope I too can one day have the courage to shout it in front of everyone and not be scared. See ya on Tuesday!

It means so much to me that this chapter meant a lot to you. I hope you find all the courage, strength and support you need. You are amazing.

And here. I made you a playlist.

You can find it here on YouTube. I hope you like it :)

#lbaf

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artemis-pendragon · 3 years ago

Text

(Here's my first attempt at a Good Omens fic! Co-credit goes to my sister for the concept and some of Crowley's dialogue haha!)

THE CONFESSION (OR, WAYS TO RUIN A PARTICULARLY FANCY ANTIQUE HAND-EMBROIDERED THROW PILLOW)

"Listen, angel, I need to tell you something," Crowley said, in a tone suggesting that an Emotionally Significant Admission was coming on.

"Oh?" Aziraphale began to turn toward him, then stopped. He had never grasped the basics of a poker face (let alone the game itself), so the less Crowley saw of him the better.

Gesturing with a half-full glass of wine, Crowley said, "There's this thing. An important thing, very important, and as soon as I remember what it is, I'm going to tell you."

Aziraphale settled with his hands clasped in his lap, still avoiding looking at Crowley. Instead, he stared at the clutter on his desk, making a mental note to deal with that later. "Take your time, my dear. There's no rush. We have all the time in the world."

"Right." Crowley slithered into a reclining position on the couch. His wine defied gravity to stay in its glass. "'S long as the world has time. I mean, how long d'you think before Heaven and Hell come slinking back up--down--for a second go at things?"

Aziraphale twisted his fingers together, spinning his signet ring between thumb and forefinger. He reached for his own wine, determined not to let on how nervous that prospect made him. "Can we not talk about that right now, please? We were having a lovely time. And besides, it's out of our control. What use is there in worrying over something we can't change?"

Crowley whipped off his sunglasses and stared at Aziraphale. "Now that sounds more like the kind of thing you'd expect me to say. I'm the optimist, remember? You're the pessimist."

"I am not a pessimist.” Aziraphale shot Crowley a disapproving glance, then, overwhelmed by the direct eye contact, looked back at his messy desk. "I'm a realist."

Crowley made an undignified sound of amusement. "Look at this glass." He held up his wine, which once again refused to spill. "Half full or half empty?"

"Both. Half of it is empty and half of it is full. That," Aziraphale said, with a great deal more gusto than the topic required, "is simply the truth of the matter."

"Huh," said Crowley. "Guess so."

There was a long silence. Then Aziraphale cleared his throat and, valiantly wielding the last shred of his courage, asked, "What were you going to tell me?"

Crowley said something vaguely word-like (his penchant for incomprehensible articulations had likely inspired the link between demonic activity and speaking in tongues, Aziraphale suspected) and reached for his sunglasses. "The thing about that... well, hgnk, uh... listen, angel..."

"Listening," said Aziraphale, and forced himself to face Crowley directly. It wouldn't do for him to think Aziraphale wasn't desperately hanging on his every word.

"There's this angel."

"I told you, I would prefer if we didn’t talk about--"

"There's this angel I'm in love with--"

"--Heaven and Hell, so if you could just refrain--"

"--and I don't know how to tell them--"

"--from discussing it--"

"--and it's killing me, because I don't know how they'll react--"

"--that would be most appreciated."

"--and I'm afraid they'll reject me, so I'm really in a pretty shit position here, if I'm being honest."

There was a long beat of dead silence where they both stared at each other with mounting levels of incomprehension.

"What?" said Aziraphale.

"What?" said Crowley.

"Oh, well, I thought you were going to say... wait, what do you mean, there's an angel you're in love with?"

Crowley shrugged in a distinctly jointless way, looking miserable. "Exactly what I said, that's what I meant. But hey, 's really no big deal. Y'know, angel, demon, not exactly happily-ever-after material, is it? Thought I owed it to you to tell you, though. After everything."

"Oh." For the first time since the world nearly ended, Aziraphale wished that Crowley was talking about Heaven and Hell. His heart, unnecessary as it was, felt like a hundred-tonne lump of lead. "Oh," he said again, and this time he was sure Crowley could read the misery on his face: a mirror of the demon's own.

But this was Crowley, his best friend, and he was obviously looking for Aziraphale's advice, so he forced himself to smile and nod as if it was no big deal at all. "Ah, well. This... this angel of yours. Do I know them?"

Crowley gave him a blank look. "Well, yeah," he said. "I’d hope so."

Aziraphale wracked his memories for anything even vaguely helpful. "Now don't take this the wrong way, but I can't imagine any of the Host falling in love with a demon."

From the look on Crowley's face, this was the wrong thing to say.

"I didn't mean--"

"Nah, 's alright, angel. You're right. That's the problem. No angel in their right mind would love a demon, and that's... that's fine! Course it is. Wouldn't expect anything else."

Aziraphale felt a sudden vicious stab of something that was suspiciously like envy and wrath. It was aimed at whatever angel had captured Crowley's affection and, from the sound of it, not returned it. "Well that's not true. I know an angel who's in love with a demon, so it is possible."

Crowley, for the second time that night, ripped his sunglasses off his face and stared at Aziraphale in disbelief. "Nah. No way. I can't see any of those smug holier-than-thou bastards falling for a demon."

They both winced at the phrasing. Aziraphale sighed.

"That's just the thing," he said. Looking down, he clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap. "You see, I'm the one."

"The one what?"

"The angel in love with a demon."

Crowley's look became impossibly more incredulous. "You. In love with a demon. No way in the nine layers of Hell, angel. I know every demon who's ever gotten topside and there's not a single one who deserves you. Trust me."

"Trust a demon?" Aziraphale teased, then regretted it when Crowley's expression turned toward devastation. "I do trust you, Crowley, but I promise that it is possible for an angel to love a demon. We are beings of love, after all."

"You lot love all things, yeah, I get it. But not like this. This is... different. The selfish kind of love."

Aziraphale sighed. If it weren't for the wine making him especially loose-limbed and unsteady, he was pretty sure he would've already fled the shop. He was in dangerous territory now. One slip and he'd fall.

He winced again. Phrasing.

"Not that it matters," said Crowley. He gestured with his wine; it came dangerously close to spilling this time. His concentration must be slipping. "Because I have it on good authority that he's in love with someone else."

"He?"

Crowley scowled. His fingers twitched toward his sunglasses, but then he clenched his fist and took a long drink of wine instead. "Yeah. He."

"So," said Aziraphale cautiously. "What is he... what is he like?"

Crowley shot him a look of disbelief. "Well, he's not the brightest. No, wait, that's not right. He's brilliant. Cleverest person I ever knew. But he's also an oblivious idiot sometimes, and I'd have more luck shouting my confession into an empty grate."

Aziraphale took a sip of wine to cover the shake in his voice as he said, "Well, the demon I love is also... also not available. He's in love with someone else, too."

"He?"

"Yes. He."

"And your demon, what's he like?" Crowley sounded like he was trying to talk around broken glass. Aziraphale wondered just how many times he'd refilled his glass at this point. Probably in the low teens.

"Well... he's a lot of things," Aziraphale said evasively. The last thing he wanted to do was give the game away. "He's handsome and clever. And stylish, in his own way." He tried not to stare at Crowley's half-unbuttoned shirt, or his too-tight pants. He wasn't sure he succeeded. "And he's not a bad person, you see. He's actually quite nice."

That earned him an eyeroll. "I doubt it, angel. 'Nice' is the kind of thing that gets a demon fired. Sent to the pits," he amended at Aziraphale's inquisitive look.

"Well, he is. He's kind and considerate and I love him so very much, sometimes I wonder... well. I wonder if it will destroy me."

"You mean you're afraid you'll Fall."

Aziraphale looked down and away. "I don't expect I would, but... I wouldn't want to put that kind of pressure on him. It wouldn't be fair to put him in that position, assuming he returned my... romantic inclinations. Which he doesn't, I'm quite sure now."

Crowley snorted. "Romantic inclinations. Yeah." He finished his wine and snapped his fingers to refill it. "Look at us." He gestured broadly around the room. "What a fucking mess."

"Yes, quite."

A third silence fell over the room--the longest and awkwardest yet.

Finally, Aziraphale got up the nerve to say, "Well, if you'd like help or advice--"

"I don't," snapped Crowley. Then he sighed, rubbing his free hand over his face and sighing. "Sorry, angel. Just, y'know. Tired."

"I understand. If you'd like to go home for the night, we could sober up and--"

"Oh, bless it all." Crowley sat up. This time, a few drops of wine escaped the glass and splattered onto Crowley's tastefully unbuttoned shirt. "Listen to me, Aziraphale. It's you. I'm in love with you, you oblivious, infuriating, beautiful idiot."

Aziraphale stared at him. Whatever emotions he should have felt in response to that revelation refused to show up until, "Oh!" he said, breathless and stunned. "I--"

"Yeah. I know, you don't have to say anything, angel, I just... I needed you to know. I'll get out of your hair now, don't worry, I don't need you to--"

"Crowley," said Aziraphale, and caught him by the sleeve as he attempted to slink out of the study toward the door. "Crowley, I'm in love with you, too."

"No, you're not," Crowley said, in an offhand way that made Aziraphale wonder how many times he'd dismissed the concept in his own mind. Then, "Wait, you what? What do you--"

"I mean," said Aziraphale, still holding onto Crowley's sleeve, "that I'm in love with you."

Crowley once again attempted to introduce a new word to the English language and failed, likely because it was made entirely of consonants.

"Precisely my thoughts. Now..." Aziraphale stood up and took Crowley's free hand in both of his own and squeezed. He smiled, radiating every little bit of joy as it seeped up from hidden places inside him, twining together like vines up a trellis. "If you don't mind terribly, I would like to kiss you."

"Mind?!" said Crowley. "If I mind? I can't believe you would even a--"

Aziraphale kissed him.

Crowley kissed him back.

It wasn't electric, or spectacular, or any of the fancy adjectives human writers used in romance novels and poems. Instead, it was just... right. Like a summer sunrise or spring dew. Simple and soft and good.

It wasn't until he pulled away that Aziraphale realized Crowley had stopped time. Crowley's wine glass was frozen midair, a spray of scarlet droplets suspended over a particularly fancy hand-embroidered antique throw pillow.

Crowley swore under his breath. "Sorry, angel, let me just--"

"Let it go," Aziraphale said. "We can always miracle it off later."

"But you'll always know that--"

"Oh, who cares. The world didn't end, Crowley. We're not stranded out in space somewhere. I can buy a new pillow."

Crowley gave him a long, searching look. Then, with a slightly devious smile, he put both hands on Aziraphale's hips and leaned in for another kiss.

They stayed like that for what was either one minute or five hours; it was impossible to tell when one's emotional and physical consciousness was entirely focused on the occult (or ethereal) being kissing you.

Finally, Crowley pulled back, just enough to look Aziraphale directly in the eyes. "Before we get on with this," he said, "I have to ask you one thing."

"Yes, my dearest, anything at all."

"This demon you're in love with... do you love me more?"

Aziraphale stared at Crowley.

Crowley stared at Aziraphale.

"Crowley," said Aziraphale. "Crowley. It's only ever been you."

Crowley looked stunned, and then euphoric. "Well, in that case." And he kissed him again.

Time restarted. Behind them, the wine spilled on the couch.

Neither of them worried about it at all. The world hadn’t ended, they weren’t on some distant planet watching the Earth melt into a puddle of burning good, and they could always buy a new pillow.

#i'm always nervous to post my first fic in a fandom #but here we are!!#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfic #artemis writes

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kitkatopinions · 3 years ago

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I feel the need to hear your opinion on this since this is something I've been thinking about recently, and it's how crwby handles complex relationships/abuse in their show... It's infuriating.

I can't tell if they genuinely think they are writing this in a good way or if they know they're half asss-ing it and don't care since the fandom will eat it up anyways. Two big examples that come to mind for me in the last volume are emerald & cinder and whitley & jacques. In both instances the the victim never gets a moment of closure or a moment of breaking away from their abuser, nor are either victims allowed to show any sort of 'hesitance' (for a lack of a better term) related to their abuse.

Emerald (despite being all over cinder before Midnight), just conveniently forgets about her for the finale. Same for whitley. He just completely forgets about jacques (the man who manipulated him from birth) the moment weiss hugs him. On a shallow level, watching a victim pay no mind to their abuser is satisfying, but it being so immediate is just unrealistic and takes away from the pain that we are supposed to think these characters have suffered.

One of the worst things about suffering from abuse is how is affects the victims even when they have left the abusive relationship, but crwby seems to want to erase that completely from characters who should experience that for plot convenience.

It seems like the lesson learned from this is "if you were abused, just get over it and be convenient to our heroes or else!" And it's pretty gross imo.

Thoughts?

I thought that I would put these two asks together and take this opportunity to talk about the abuse victims in RWBY and how they're handled. I've tried to think long and hard about what to say about this, because this is an important topic to me and something that's personal for me. I'm an abuse survivor, but I have a complicated relationship with that part of myself and I'm never really comfortable talking about it much. But despite the fact that I've experienced abuse, I recognize that I'm not a professional sensitivity editor, not a therapist, and not someone who's studied the effects of abuse.

I'm simply writing this based on my own feelings and what I've picked up witnessing other abuse victims discuss their own feelings about abused character. There will be RWBY criticism below the keep reading. Please keep in mind that I'm not speaking for all abuse survivors and am only trying to articulate my own feelings in regards to this issue.

The first thing to note is that there isn't one, correct, right way to write an abuse victim in my opinion. Lots of people have different reactions and responses to abuse, the way they were abused is often also different, causing different reactions.

In the first anon, it's noted that Emerald and Whitley both seem to move on from their abuse quickly and with very little effect on them or their stories. Many abuse victims put their experiences on the back burner or 'in a box' to deal with later, or mask and pretend that they're alright or that their abuse just didn't happen. Some of them let their feelings or their anger simmer over time. There are also abuse victims who do just... Move on with relative ease. I'd imagine that's very rare though. (again, I'm not not an expert or any sort of psychologist.)

In the same way, an abuse victim becoming an abuser in their own interactions is something that one hundred percent happens. Cinder, Salem, Adam, and even Blake and Winter have all acted in abusive ways towards the people around them (though obviously Blake and Winter acted much less abusive than any of the villains mentioned.) It might be very hard for abuse victims to not fall back into those patterns of abuse that they've suffered, especially if they go through it at an early age. I'm not very comfortable talking about my own experiences, but myself and my siblings have all had to fight down toxic, hurtful traits that we picked up either through emulating or through survival. And it's hard to do that. Portraying characters who have been abused that lost that fight and might have abusive tendencies or slip themselves is - to me at least - sometimes even helpful in working through my own feelings.

And there are definitely one hundred percent abuse victims who feel like the way they were treated is deserved, that they 'earned' it, that they must 'make up for it.' Oz is in this category. There's nothing wrong with the concept of a character who feels responsible for their abuser or the hurt their abuser has caused to others, there’s nothing wrong with a character who tends to act as though everything is their fault and who thinks very poorly of themselves.

In theory. But the problem is that in application, there are a lot of pitfalls and struggles that come with writing for abuse victims. Understanding, thoughtfulness, and care are not the RWBY writers’ strength, and any time you portray real life issues that strongly impact the real life people involved in them, you have to be aware and careful with the messages you’re sending. This is obviously very important when someone writes for any minority or oppressed group or the issues that they face, but it’s also important to remember when you write for abuse victims, because they do have stigmas around them and deal with stereotypes and harmful portrayals as well. Let’s look at what I consider some harmful or hurtful pitfalls when it comes to abused characters.

Are the abused characters treated as the victims they are? If the abuse a character faces is treated as comical, treated as unimportant, or treated as deserved, that’s an obvious major flaw. Sad to say, but RWBY does not pass this. On two separate occasions, a character is hit by someone close to them in a way that clearly causes them some pain, with Blake hitting Sun across the face for following her, and Winter hitting Weiss for answering a question incorrectly and again for failing in her training (I tend to be more sympathetic towards Blake’s situation, as it is more gray with her clearly thinking Sun had stalked her which is a clear trigger from her own abuse, but this is an explanation, not an excuse and the fact that it was framed as funny rather than something Blake shouldn’t have done and should apologize for is the problem.) They also do not treat Ozpin like the victim when Qrow punches him in the face, having no one call Qrow out for it and having him never express guilt or try to apologize for it. Yes, I know Ozpin had retreated, but they never showed Qrow even make an effort to get Ozpin to come back so he could apologize. . They also ‘redeem’ Hazel and give him a ‘partially right’ storyline despite his openly beating Ozpin, unfairly blaming him for the death of his sister, and insisting that Ozpin deserved to be tortured. On top of this, despite having been horribly abused by the SDC, Adam isn’t treated with even an ounce of sympathy or understanding and Jacques Schnee and the SDC is treated like a more comical-ish nuisance in season seven and eight. This is greatly flawed. Hitting someone because they lied to you or kept secrets from you is not okay, hitting someone because they said something you don’t like is not okay. This should not be treated as funny and it shouldn’t be treated as the fault of the person who was hit for not being a good enough friend.

Are the abused characters mostly villains, when the heroes have never faced it? The reason for this is obvious, although it’s valid to have a villain be an abuse victim, it’s never alright to villainize abuse victims. Making the majority of your bad guys abuse victims and your good guys have positive relationships is in my opinion, harmful. Point for RWBY, this is not the case for their show. Mercury, Salem, and Cinder on the bad side are all abuse victims with Raven being a possible, but unconfirmed abuse victim as well. While Weiss, Blake, Ozpin, and Whitley are also abuse victims, with Qrow and May both being possible, but unconfirmed abuse victims, and Winter and Emerald are both abuse victims who were on the side of a villain and then turned good.

Is the abuse more severe in the ‘bad’ characters and lighter in the ‘good’ characters? If the abuse that the good guys faced is mostly lighter things and the abuse that the villains suffered is worse and more severe, that might send some bad messages that people who suffer more are automatically worse people, or ‘unsalvageable’ or ‘too broken,’ as opposed to the people that ‘there’s still hope for.’ Unfortunately, I think RWBY is almost a tie? We’ve never seen Weiss or Emerald suffer more than a hit, we don’t know for sure that Whitley or Winter were ever victims of physical abuse. Ozpin and Blake’s abuse is worse, however, as they are hunted down by their abusers who attempt to murder them, make them suffer, and hurt their loved ones. They also were heavily emotionally manipulated and victim blamed by their abusers. And on the villain side, Mercury was beat by his father who hated him and stole his semblance (an extension of your soul, I believe, in canon,) and the abuse led to the loss of his limbs. Cinder was forced to work hard labor by her abusive employer and the ‘stepsisters’ treated her badly, and she was physically electrocuted. We see her abuse extend to Salem using her Grimm arm to hurt her, copying the effects of the necklace. Adam was also a child laborer who worked in terrible conditions who got his face branded by his employer, in the SDC, which had to have been anti-faunus charged due to his bull horns. We don’t see Salem ever physically abused, but know that she was mistreated, isolated, and neglected by her ‘cruel’ father. So it’s not quite a tie, there are more severely abused characters amongst the villains than the heroes, but this is close enough that I don’t consider this much of a strike against them.

In the villains, is the abuse they faced given as ‘reason’ for their villainy? As I said before, villainizing abuse victims isn’t the way to go. A good way to avoid this - I think - is not have abuse be the sole reason for someone’s fall into a life of crime or cruelty. This is something that RWBY... Fails at imo. When showing us Mercury’s backstory, we’re introduced to him through seeing that he had just killed his abuser who cost him his legs, and then gets recruited by Cinder who at the very least likely emotionally and physically abused him the same way she did with Emerald, leading to the conclusion that the only reason he’s there at all is due to abuse. However, he’s just a teen and it’s possible that (like Emerald) he’ll be redeemed. A much more condemning story to talk about is Cinder’s. After people had been clambering for a Cinder backstory since volume three, RWBY finally showed us one. But it doesn’t include Cinder meeting Salem, why she joined her, her proving herself, none of that. Instead, Cinder’s backstory was entirely focused on her abusive situation as a child, entirely focused on her suffering. Cinder killing her abusers and then killing the teacher who decided to arrest her for getting herself out of her abusive situation was portrayed as the only needed backstory, the explanation to why she’s a power hungry, abusive, cruel, selfish, and just plain evil person. ‘She was abused’ is the explanation for why Cinder is where she is and why she is who she is in RWBY. That’s highly problematic to me.

In the heroes, are they “the Perfect, Sanitized Abuse Victims?” As I said before, there is no one type of abuse victim, but if someone has several abuse victims and they’re all either submissive, sad, and self-doubting, but gentle and caring and soft or dropped their abuser like a hotcake and never looked back, never seem affected, never really talk about it after they left... That’s bothersome to me personally. Measuring how RWBY is in this particular subject is... A little harder than I thought it would be. Let’s start by looking at the most prevalent abuse victim, Blake. She’s one of the reasons why this is hard to gauge, because for the first five seasons, Blake was deeply flawed and clearly affected by her abuse in ways that made her ‘unappealing.’ Blake was cynical, stubborn, cold, hard to get to know, she didn’t trust easily, she lashed out at her friends regularly, ran from her problems, made choices for her friends, and had a very negative self image. This didn’t stop her from being a good character and friend with a lot of good sides, too, and she had real, important friendships. This was - to me - a really great portrayal of someone clearly affected by their trauma, with lots to work on, who was still a good person. Some of her faults and problems started to get resolved in a natural way through her journey with Sun in volumes four and five, but when season six came around, many of Blake’s other traits suddenly vanished. No longer stubborn, independent, or cynical, and no longer standing up for herself, or really displaying her temper or hardheadedness or her struggles with getting to know people... Blake became more submissive, sad, self-doubting, but gentle, caring, and soft. Sigh. As the first ask mentioned, Whitley and Emerald both seemed to drop their abusers quickly the second they were removed from their lives again. it’s also worth noting that Whitley was treated with nothing but coldness and contempt by Weiss until he ‘proved himself’ by doing something selfless. Weiss did more or less drop Jacques the moment she left her house in V4, only mentioning him or her experiences when she’s using it to talk about Blake, and when she confronted him again in V7, she did so as someone who is proving she no longer cares. Ozpin seems to be the only one still unable to move on from his abuse and the ‘unappealing’ abuse victim. The first anon is right, there’s something satisfying with seeing an abuse victim move on like their abuser didn’t matter. But when almost all your abuse victims do, and one of the only other ones is turned into a submissive and soft support based / romance based character, and the only really ‘unappealing’ abuse victim is someone we’re supposed to see as ‘gray’... There’s something off there, in my opinion.

Were the abuse victims treated respectfully and thoughtfully by their friends, and if not, were they portrayed as wrong? This probably isn’t something that really even needs an explanation. Abuse victims should be able to set their own boundaries and tell their stories only when they want, when they feel comfortable, Their friends should be understanding of this and not force anything from them. In the case of Blake and Weiss, this is handled really well! Their friends let them talk about their experiences in their own time, and they’re understanding and validate their feelings when it comes up (much more common with Blake than with Weiss, who like I said, seemed to move on from her dad quickly after she left.) However, when it comes to Oz... This is all wrecked. Although unintentional (no one knew how deeply tied up with Salem Ozpin was or how intimate the memories they were going to watch were,) our main characters still forced Ozpin’s deepest and most personal secrets out of him in a fit of upset while he was tearfully begging them not to. He was forced to relive his most traumatic experiences in hi-def with other people watching with him, all his secrets and all his abuse wrenched away from him in what was clearly a very painful way. And then no one showed Ozpin even the slightest bit of sympathy or understanding for what he’d gone through, and no one ever apologized for what they had forced him to relive. In fact, Team RWBY were clearly displayed as in the right, and Oz was displayed as completely wrong for not trusting them implicitly. He had to apologize to them, which they acted begrudgingly accepting of as if they hadn’t shouted at an abuse victim after forcing him to relive all his worst experiences.

Are some abuse victims portrayed as bad for things that other abuse victims aren’t portrayed as bad for? Like the second ask says, in RWBY, Cinder and Mercury are treated as villains for having killed their abusers and Cinder is almost arrested for it, it’s considered a step in the direction of their villainy. But Blake is (rightfully) treated as the victim who was forced, who had no choice, who just wanted the abuse to stop. This is hypocritical and fundamentally flawed. I think this is a reflection of the fact that Cinder and Mercury are meant to be ‘bad’ abuse victim, who had violent tendencies and anger issues, and were already featured as bad guys before their backstory’s dropped, whereas Blake was meant to be a better abuse victim who (by season six) was starting to get written as a soft girl who just wanted to help her friends.

All in all, although there’s some things that I think that RWBY did well enough, I definitely think that I would consider their portrayal of abuse victims to be lacking. This is just my opinion and the way I feel about the writing, but there are a lot of ways to look at it. I think overall, I just really wish that the RWBY writers had been a little more sensitive and spent a little longer focusing on the character arcs involved in abuse recovery. (There’s still a chance for Whitley, Weiss, and Emerald to get more focus in volume ten, though, so long as the writers don’t timeskip!)

#rwde #rwby criticism #rwby critical #rwby hate #rwby bashing #tw; abuse #trigger warning; abuse

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