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ariadnewhitlock · 2 years ago

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A Cup of Stars || Meera & Ariadne

TIMING: Current-ish, early this week LOCATION: Best Exotic Herbal Tea PARTIES: Meera @the-haunteang and Ariadne @ariadnewhitlock SUMMARY: Ariadne goes to explore the tea shop, and she and Meera talk. Ariadne tells Meera that she wants to take friends to the tea shop. It's soft. CONTENT WARNING: None

“Good morning!” Meera cheerfully greeted the woman that just entered her family shop, with a warm smile and an excited wave. The Best Exotic Herbal Tea Shop was supposedly one of the oldest businesses in the town of Wicked’s Rest, though its current owner, Meera, hadn’t really bothered to verify that information. To her, it was good enough that her grandmother had always spoken about it, included it in their age-old catalogs, and no one else has disputed the fact.

The Ghazi siblings, who usually manned the counter, were currently busy with other customers, so it was up to the usually reserved Meera to try and do her best not to get distracted by the ghost of a random relative just staring at her from the door, slightly behind the other woman. Years ago, it would have been quite the most jarring of sights. These days, however, she was getting used to it. “How can I help you?”

Having more than one place to go and get tea wasn’t a bad thing, by any means. Supporting local shops was important - a belief that Ariadne had all on her own, but one that was certainly aided by the fact that her family had a business of their own that relied on support from the town in order for it to be successful.

“I - what is your favorite tea to get?” Ariadne glanced up at the listing. “I’m big on tea - not like, an expert, I just like how it tastes, and I also like to listen to what others have to say.” She gave a small huff. “So. Yeah. Are you able to give me recommendations? If that’s asking too much, just tell me. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Me, personally?” Meera was caught offguard by the question. She had been asked the same thing, of course, countless of times before, but it always catches her offguard. It was the same kind of question as when someone asks a mother who their favorite child was. Meera couldn’t choose. All her life, she had known tea, a lot of them, perhaps more than any one person should, but in her defense, her family was in the business. “I guess it depends on the time of day and the mood I’m in, but nothing can beat Assam or Darjeeling for me.”

Of course, she’d choose those two. They were from home, a part of her life she had barely known, she could no longer go back to for fear of the thousands and hundreds of dead relatives that would swarm her as soon as she stepped foot in that continent. There were already too many for her to handle in this part of the world. Meera shook her head, mustering enough strength to retain her smile, before continuing. “It’s not a bother, not at all, but I suppose we can start with what tea have you had recently and if you’d like to try something new?”

“Yes - you’re the expert.” Ariadne sighed, “I didn’t - it’s also okay if you don’t want to tell me, but both of those teas sound wonderful.” There was something enchanting about getting to talk to someone who was such an expert at something so beautiful, and she regretted not having been to the shop many times before.

“I had rooibos last night, and also a chamomile. This morning I had Irish Breakfast, I think?” Ariadne thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes, that. I will admit I am fond of making teas quite sweet - but I do genuinely like the flavor too. But yes, I think I might like to try something new - or at least - well, yeah, actually - up for trying basically anything.”

Meera found the sigh a little discomforting. Although she tried her best not to show it, she was taken aback by the response. Was it something she said? Before she could ask that very question, she found a different ghostly relative staring at the customer, appearing right behind her. He didn’t make any sound, didn’t move their graying lips, only stared with those large empty eyes. Feigning a cough, Meera did her best not to focus on the ghost. They were neither buying nor selling anything. “O-oh, I wouldn’t call myself an expert,” she went on. “We do actually have one but they’re out at the moment.”

Wherever those two were, Meera didn’t want to know. The pair of so-called experts had been working for her mother before she passed and maybe even for her grandmother and her grandmother’s mother. She wasn’t quite sure about that part. But they were full of knowledge about teas, far more than Meera herself could ever hope to have. She knew her chamomiles and lavenders, Assams and Ceylons, but those guys were on another level.

“Oh, well, in that case,” Meera turned her back to the customer to browse the shelf on the wall, which contained a selection of different teas. When she turned to Ariadne again, she held in her hands two different boxes. “Some teas ARE sweeter than others, so maybe you’d like to try some pandan leaf tea or star anise tea?”

She could see, for only a moment, an expression of unease wash over the woman’s face. Even though she hadn’t done anything to scare her, Ariadne couldn’t help but feel at fault. “I - sorry, I’ve just never met someone so wonderfully dedicated to tea before, and I think that surprised me.” She plastered a smile on her face, doing her best to force herself to relax, as much as was possible. “That’s totally fine, I’d probably be like, super unimpressive to them, anyhow.” She offered the other woman a small smile.

“I’d love either of those.” Her smile grew, “could - yeah, I’d even take both, if you wanted?” Ariadne nodded, “though not at the same time, I don’t know if that would work out so well.” She tapped her fingers on the countertop for a moment, before stopping, worrying that it would only draw that same expression of unease that her sigh had, earlier.

“Oh,” came Meera’s meek reply. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the apology. Although she took the compliment as a, well, compliment, Meera has never been good at actually stating the obvious when it came down to it. Like, what was she even supposed to say? Thank you? She felt that was not enough to express how much she appreciated the customer’s sentiment, but at the same time, just saying it out loud, as is, felt like too much, too. “I don’t know… You’re…pretty…impressive to me.” What.

Meera feigned a cough, trying her best to move past that weird reply from herself, though she stumbled a few more times, unsure how to actually do that and whether she could even do that. “Tell you what, since it’s your first time here,” she did look too young to be an old customer, and if she’d been around, Meera would have remembered her…right? “Why don’t I give you 50% off on both? That way, it wouldn’t be too much of a waste if you end up not liking them!” Maybe this was why Meera wasn’t doing better business than usual, though to be fair, she was never a good businesswoman to begin with anyway.

“I’m really not too impressive but, uh, thank you?” Ariadne squeezed her eyes shut. This whole encounter was something she wanted to apologize for. She’d invaded the woman’s space (even if it was a shop, technically) and hadn’t done anything to make her feel more at ease. If anything, she just seemed to keep making it worse.

“I - really? I’d love that, but that’s really a lot of you to offer, to a stranger. So how about, if I do like them, I pay you what I’d owe you?” Ariadne suggested. “It feels like theft or something, otherwise, but if you want to give me the discount, you can.”

Meera gave her a fervent nod with a warm smile to boot not unlike that of a child that just got patted on the head for acing a test that was more important to their parent. It wasn’t a familiar state of being for the tea shop owner, as it had been her childhood. To be fair, however, her mother just wanted to ensure her survival, all things considered. It was hard enough to raise a child on her own in an unfamiliar place, but to raise a child who could see their dead relatives while their dead relatives kept stalking them? It was too much, something that was now akin to a nightmare for Meera herself.

“That’s okay with me, too,” Meera tried her best to make the young woman more comfortable than she seemed. “Whatever feels right for you.”

She wanted to argue about that statement regarding the theft but felt unprepared to do so. What did Meera even know about theft? She’s been hauntingly sheltered all her life, trapped in the walls of her family’s overbearing tradition. The tea shop’s walls even felt like they were designed to keep her in. She did not have any cause to resort to thievery, not even a hint of desperation or curiosity. That and a dead relative was always watching. That was more stressful to her than getting thrown in jail for stealing a piece of gum. “Would you like anything else?”

“I just like to be honest and kind whenever possible, and I wouldn’t want to cheat you out of anything is all.” Ariadne sighed. She wanted the woman to like her, except she got the feeling that perhaps she was trying too hard. That perhaps all the effort that went into reassuring the woman was actually making her more hesitant about Ariadne. She did her best not to focus on that too much, and to instead focus herself on the tea. Which was, after all, the original point of her outing. Not totally embarrassing herself around someone cool would have just been a nice bonus.

“Do you have any cookies or cakes? I’ll pay for those too, I promise!” Ariadne squeaked, “but the tea all on its own is also perfect. Better than perfect, even.” Okay, now even she could tell that she was trying too hard. She took a deep breath. “I like it here. I might bring a friend of mine sometime. I think they’d like it too.”

“That’s fair,” Meera gave the young woman a warm smile. She was pleased at that response. Although she did like handing out discounts like there was no tomorrow, which most likely meant that she wasn’t that great of a businesswoman compared to her late mother and late grandmother, Ariadne’s words felt genuine. Or at least genuine enough to make her feel better even if her most generous offer was denied. “You’re a nice person.”

Usually, when someone declined Meera’s offer, it was because they wanted something else. Or they felt like too proud to accept what they felt was a ‘handout.’ That wasn’t always the case, though. She was sure of that. But it did feel like that most of the time. It wasn’t like she was a mind reader to know what people really thought. She was something else. A ghost watcher. Something like that.

“Hmm, well, we do have something back there,” Meera moved toward the part of the counter to the side that had some pastries left on display. There used to be more over there, at least more earlier, but other customers have purchased them. What were left weren’t the usual kinds of pastries one would find at a bakery, most of all a tea shop. They were Indian pastries. From her father’s side of the family. Things she didn’t even have on a daily basis while she was growing up. “Oh, we still have a few Dharwad peda and Mysore pak! The peda is made with sugar and buffalo milk while the pak a buttery and dense cookie prepared in ghee. Dharwad and Mysore are places in India.” After the brief summary, she offered her a piece each to taste.

The woman was actually smiling now, which did a wonder for Ariadne’s nerves. Of course, she was practically positive that nothing could make them go away entirely, but any sort of lessening was more than welcome. “You’re a nice person too.” She offered her a small smile. “I just figure there’s not really ever a point to not being nice, really.”

She’d been raised to not take too much for granted - to be grateful - and Ariadne was, easily so, perhaps absurdly easily so sometimes - but she also knew that along with that came necessary respect, and it seemed overdue here, especially if the woman was out and about offering discounts to nearly everyone who entered the store. Not that she was rich - she never had been, but she believed very much in giving what was deserved.

“Those both sound amazing,” Ariadne took a small piece of each, taking care to chew each slowly, “and they both are amazing. This time I think I’ll go with the Dharward peda - which I hope I didn’t completely mess up the pronunciation of, but something advertised as having sugar is pretty much always gonna win me over.”

No point in not being nice… Those words reverberated in Meera’s head as her smile never left her lips. Truly the same words she has tried to live by, all things considered. To be fair, Meera had never encountered any reason, or point, to not be nice to someone, anyone at all, but that was mostly because she usually spent her days within the walls of her family’s tea shop.

Maybe if she had time to go out, mix and mingle, Meera could find a reason, a point, to not be nice to someone, maybe one of those Internet goblins in person. “Why, thank you! That’s so…nice of you to say!” She beamed, thinking she was so witty for that play on words.

“Oh, don’t worry about it! New words in new languages of new cultures can take some learning,” Meera gracefully rang the additional purchase after leaving the two samples with the young woman, having gestured for her to finish them or just leave them there if she couldn’t. Forcing someone to do either was a bad habit everyone tends to mistake as a good one. People should have the freedom to decline offers and kind gestures and what-not. “Here you go! Enjoy them together!”

“Thank you.” Ariadne offered her another small smile. “It’s - I appreciate the pun. Joke? Whatever you just did.” Again, there wasn’t anything but complete and total honesty, even if she wasn’t totally sure she was making anything other than a fool of herself, but right now she wasn’t going to focus on that.

“I just wouldn’t want to sound ignorant or anything,” Ariadne bit her lip, “but thanks.” She took another bite of the sample, the taste something incredibly satisfying. “Oh - really? Together? I promise I don’t always repeat things quite this much, but uh…” her voice trailed off. “Anyhow, these are both wonderful. Is - I have a friend, who I might want to bring here, sometime. Would that be okay?”

Meera didn’t know what it was either. Was it a pun? She wouldn’t necessarily chuck it in the same company as ‘dad jokes.’ Those were mostly puns, weren’t they? Was it a joke? Sort of? She wanted it to come off as at least humorous but there was no set-up, at least nothing that wasn’t just recycled into it, and no hilarious punchline. Basically, she just repeated what Ariadne had said for the most part. Either way, though, she was just glad it was appreciated, so to speak, and she acknowledged that a polite smile and a brief nod.

“Together,” Meera nodded again, gesturing toward the purchase. “They do taste great together, but of course, feel free to take them separately or with others that may be more suitable to your taste and preference. Dharward peda should go well with any tea.” At least she hoped. Truth be told, Meera hadn’t tried it with all the teas. There were far too many possible combinations out there, and she hadn’t even tried all the teas that existed. “Yes! That would be lovely! Bring everyone! All your friends. We’d love to meet them and share our love of teas with your friends and family!”

“You know so much.” Ariadne said, eyes wide, truly in awe. “I’m for sure gonna come back.” There was no reason not to, with the drinks and good being as good as they were, and with the women being so endlessly kind and accommodating. “I don’t - well, I don’t have a lot of friends, but I can bring the ones I do have, promise!”

She took another bite of her dessert and a sip of the tea. “These are perfect.” Another nod. “You know, I’m really glad I came here.”

#wickedswriting #a cup of stars #chatzy #writing #c meera #// meera and dee are both perfect!!#i loved this thread so much :') it's really soft and i can't wait to write more with these two

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watatsumiis · 2 years ago

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Interesting event nyehehe~ when I read what you wrote for leftdestiny-post my immediate thought was actually "i hope you get more followers" cuz I would've been stuck with that prompt lmao– if you still take requests, may this gremlin humbly ask for Dainsleif and number 42?

(42 is the meaning of life, and he's my meaning of life– /hj)

Thank you so much for your kind words qwq it really does mean the world to me. This event has thrown some interesting combinations at me that I’ve really had to sit and think about to get them working. It’s been a really fun exercise (if a little draining)

I’ll be honest, I’m not all that familiar with Dainsleif (I don’t think I’ve really written anything for him at all askjdhkjfs). He as a character fascinates me but I worry that I might not be able to do him justice. Here’s hoping though.

I’m gonna make this an x reader thing because that’s what my brain juice is giving power for right now.

Content: Gender neutral reader (referred to as ‘you’), uhh yeah I dunno just some mushy type fluff. Minor warning for what could be seen as obsessive behaviour? I dunno

There is nothing left for me to do,

Of course, that may not be the entire truth. There are plenty of tasks for him to complete, loose ends that need tying up, entire continents for him to monitor.

Dainsleif is alone. He has been for a long, long time. Surrounded by nothing but madmen and people who simply aren’t capable of keeping up with him.

You’re so perfect, I’m so worthless

Until you, that is. Bright and intelligent, a smart quip always on the tip of your tongue for anything he may decide to say.

He quickly came to consider you a ray of sunshine, to be treasured and protected at any and all costs.

I have seen the light

Something bright and gorgeous, in the presence of someone who had grown up in an underground realm, untouched by natural light,

And it’s so beautiful that I can’t even cry,

It almost hurts him to be near you, basking in your warmth as one who has seen and committed so many atrocities, yet he can’t stop himself from approaching time and time again, like a moth to flame.

He wishes for nothing more than to protect you, to make sure that nothing bad may befall you, even if that may mean delaying his own tasks.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites (without credit + permission).

#i. am not happy with how this piece turned out Oh No im so sorry #my writing #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #genshin x reader #200 follower event #frisbees this out into the void and scampers away

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karumashadowchicken · 4 years ago

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Yandere Hawks x Reader, Fem pt.1

Yandere Hawks x Reader 'Talk'

You had woken up after sleeping in again. You got up tirdly, and put on your casual outfit. Sighing, you put your ear uds in your ears and started walking. You exite your house quiely, as it was 11:50pm. Walking through the city was nice, as there weren't many people. Most people would be worried about their health, as crime was quite common. Although you had a quirk, and a pretty strong one at that. You never showed it off, some of your friendsdiden't even know you had a quirk. As you walked you put your handsin your pocket, the wind was howling, but it wasen't an unwelcomed sound. It was quite relaxing, and it made you feel a little calmer. Cars still went by every fe minutes, and the city lights were still bright. Walking throught the city wasalways something you liked, it was calming, and just a good way to get some alone time. As you walked around the block you eventually ended back at your apartment building. Walking up the stairs you climbed to the roof. You always liked the way that the strs looked from the roof top. Sitting atop the building you could see the stars so clearly, you could see so much more than you needed too. You kicked your feet over the side of the building. Moving your head lightly from side to side, you looked at the sky. Only yo be spooked. "Whater you doin on a roof top at midnight?" Hawks was dressed casual, his red wings puffed up a little, " Your not causing trouble are ya?" Hawks questioned. You sighed, " Nope, I just need a break fro all the hussle and bussle of city life." Hawks sighed sitting dowm beside you, "Me too kid." You two sat there silently. He humbed a soft tune. "Its not as easy as people make it sound, is it?" You asked. He quirked an eyebrow." Being a hero." You continue, " People make it sound like a dream come true.... Its not is it?" Hawks sighed, leaning back, putting his legs back, rocking back and forth. "I guess its a lot more complicated then people think, all worth it though." Hawks continued humming, until he turned to you, "Do you usualy sit up here, I mean, its kinda late?" Hawks queastioned. You looked to the sky smiling lightly. His head followed were you were looking, turning the the sky. " Its kinda nice out here. I big bustling city, and the calming night sky. It really is something ien't it?" Hawks smiled lightly, "Yeah it is, baby bird." you turn your head, "Hm?" You raised an eybrow and continued, " Do you call everybody baby bird?" Hawks face when white for a split second, not realising he called ya baby bird. "ha, sorry Y/N. diden't mean to call ya that." He almost paniked when he realzed that he said your name, but you diden't queastion it. "Its fine honestly." You continued, " a careing nickname isen't the worst thing in the world." you and hawks looked at the sky for a while, having a light conversaion. "Hey baby bird?" you turned your head, going 'hm?', "If ya ever wanna talk, heres my number." Hawks handed you his phone, wanting your number too. You two exchanged numbers, before you sighed getting up. "sorry Hawks, I should get to bed. That was nice talk." You frowned, realizing you probley wont see him again. At least not without it being him on the news or something. "I'll see ya again." You smiled lightly, a sadness in your eyes."Yeah..." You followed your way down the stair case, stoping at your apartment. You opened the door and walked in. Turning the lights on and closing the door behind you. Your phone 'dinged'causing you to look at it. Its said, 'GoodNight Baby Bird', from 'Hawks'. You smiled, remembering that you two did exxchange numbers. You siled, typing back to him, "GoodNight, Hawks." He smiled looking at his phone as he sat on the roof top. he had been crouched on the roof,bt got up and punched into the air,. His wings flapping like a pretty bird. A featherof his 'fell' from his wing and 'landed' on your belcony. You diden't think about the fact that he could control his feathers at the time, now you wish you had noticed. Seeing a flash of fluffy red you opened the belcony door, looking out. Only to see a single red feather. You picked it up and felt the feather. It wasso soft and pretty, you placed it on your table and got yourself dinner. Simply eating your favourite snack. You finished quickly and turned on the tv, putting on Animal Planet. You fell asleep lisening the animal planet in the backround. *Hawks Perspecive* He made sure you saw the feather, as it 'landed' on your belcony. He flew back to your apaertment minutes later, he was exited. He had finally got to talk to you! You even exchange numbers, and responded when he said good night. Hawks smiled softly to himself, it looked a little bit like a sadistic grin, but it wasen't. He looked threw the belconys glass door, finding you fast asleep he starts to pick the lock. When he got, which was suprizigly easy since you forgot the ock the door, he stepped inside softly.He looked at your cute sleeping form and took a few cute pictures of you cutlt cuddled up. He moved to your washroom. You had bought new shampoo and conditioner, he neededto see what brand it was. Once he did he sneaked bad, leaving a bit of money in your wallet along with a note reading, 'Sorry for the trouble, baby bird.' Once finished he closed the door, using the feather on the inside to lock it. He hoped to run into you in the morning. *Your Perspective* You woke again, having a relativlynormal morning. Making sure you had your wallet you headed to the mall. You needed to picked up a few foods, snacks, clothing, and a few other things. Getting dressed you put on something casual. The weather was okay, fo the season. You sighed, moving throught he crowds of people. Not carring for whatever had interested them you just walked through ignoreing them. You were walking in an empty part of the mall now, put still somehow you ended up bumping into somebody. "Uh! I am so sorry!" You said fumbling. You had fallen to the floor. "Hey, you should watch where your going." You fumbled out another apoligy. You looked p to the man, scared face, staples in his face, black spiky hair, and a lot of peircings. You sighedhelping yourself up, " I am so sorry, can I buy you a coffee or something?" You asked. He sighed looking behind him. Dabi, not wanting to cause trouble just waves you off and walks by. You calmed your breathing, happy that you diden'tcause any trouble. Walking around the next corner you walked right into someones chest. You almost fell back, but he reached forward and caught you, "Hey Baby Bird." You looked up and smiled at his voice, "Hawks!" You said smiling. Hawks smiled lifting you too your feet completly. "What are ya doing here Baby Bird?" You sighed, and explainedyour shopping trip so far. You included the man you had bumped into just a minute ago. He sighed, "Oh, did you get his name?"you sighed and explained that you haden't. He sighed putting his hand around our shoulder. *Hawks Perspective* "Where ya headed now, baby bird?" I asked. She smiled beutifuly,sighing again. they do that a lot, I noticed that since met them. I looked into her beautiful face, as she eplaned she was shopping, "Need any help?" I asked. She waved me of, explaining that it was fine, and she diden't wanna waste my time. Shes never a waste of time, I love her so much, I thought while taking her hand. "None sense, I'll carry your basket for you." I contined, "Nothing like quality time." I smiled at her as she blushed. her hand was so beautifl an soft. They are amazing, and beautiful. I used this as the perfect chance to find out what kind of things they buy. *Your Perspective* "Okay, Uh.. Follow me I guess." You said, still blushing. You pulled you hand away lightly while looking at products. You stoped at a sweet isle, and bought your favourite. You and hawks headed to the bread isle next, a got some fresh bread. In the end you hand gotten all the things that you needed. Then you headed to another store, buying: -Your Favourite Food, Snack, Drink and Chips. -Your Favourite Heros Mug. -A Stuffie Of Gang Orca, and Best Jeanist. -Some Stuff For Writing, and Drawing. -A Few New Outfits. -whatever else. Hawks smiled, taking in all the knowlege of what you bought. You smiled, stopping at a cute cafe inside the mall. "Wanna chat, and get some snacks?" you asked. Hawks nodded his head and smiled at you, "Of Course."

I hope you liked it, if you want more messgae me some ideas, or just like the post. Rebloging the post really helps too. Again, feel free to suggest things, I love writing! Not to mention, suggestions real help me out. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it.

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dontloseyourpants · 4 years ago

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If pantsing was an Olympic sport, what would you want the rules to be? Do you feel that you could win a gold medal in it?

Okay, this one took some thinking, because there’s a lot of ways to approach it. But it’s fun. It gets a little long, so be aware. Come join me down below for some speculation and a couple of handy pictures to help hold your attention

First, in order for a sport to be included by the Olympics, it must be recognized by the IOC, and in order to be recognized by the IOC, it must be governed by an International Federation. This part isn’t super detailed, anti-doping guidelines, etc. I don’t think doping will be an issue, so let’s move on to being recognized as an Olympic sport.

When petitioning to be an Olympic sport, there are a few checks that need to be hit, so to speak. First of all, the sport must be practiced on at least 4 different continents, in at least 75 countries. I mean, barring any official rules, yeah, that one’s a gimme. Next, the sport must increase the “appeal and/or value” of the Olympics. This is a little up to interpretation, but hunky guys in underwear? I think that fits. I think it fits. There’s also some shit about tradition. Whatever. Tradition is dumb, skip it.

Also, the minimum age to compete in the Olympics is 16. For the purposes of these games, we’ll set a minimum of 18, of course, maybe even bump it up to 20, tbh.

Two other things that won’t necessarily come up but might be worth noting is that “mind game” sports are not allowed. This is why Chess is recognized as a sport by the IOC but not allowed at the Olympics. Also, motorized based sports are not allowed, which is why any racing event involving cars isn’t allowed. I can’t imagine any pantsing based sport using a motor, so I don’t think that one will be an issue.

So, no we’re on to the main question, how is the sport held? Let’s run down some options.

First, a lot of us know that clip from the talk show where they try to pants a lot of guys in a short amount of time. That one used five guys lined up, I think, like seven might be a bit more exciting. The problem here is consistency. Not just clothing, but height, weight, control, etc. But assuming you give everyone the same clothes, it’s probably the most straightforward answer. A simple “most pantsings in x amount of time.”

Second, we could do something more akin to subjective categories. Think of stuff like gymnastics, where scores are based more off of form and expression. This is the hardest, and probably the weakest one, because we wouldn’t want competitors to bring in anything else, since we don’t want money or resources to be too big of a factor. There’s really only so many ways you can pants someone, but as a thought exercise, it’s a fun idea

Third, there are one on one style sports, like wrestling. This is another one that gets points for simplicity, pants the other one first to get a point, pants must go past the bottom of the knee to count. First to three points wins. This one has some variance too, a la the first example, but this time the variance is on the hands of the competitors, which feels like it’s fair to me. Also, according to the olympics website, wrestling is generally regarded as the oldest sport. Which makes sense, you don’t need any equipment to practice.

Last, we could do something like a group vs group sport, in this case, maybe a spin on rugby since that sport already has so many pantsings. But now we get to the complicated part, how is it done?

I’m imaging two teams of 6 guys each. Now if it’s just “go nuts and pants each other for whatever amount of time,” well, that’d be fun to watch, but it doesn’t have much in terms of strategy or excitement. So let’s give them roles, ala roller derby.

We’ll say there are three ��gold’ members. We’ll call them sharks. In order to score a point, you have to pants them, and to keep them in the throes of things, in order to score a point, they have to be the one doing the pantsing as well.

Then we have three ‘grey’ members. We’ll call them pilots. They’re like bodyguards for the sharks. Help guide them around the field to the other team’s sharks. No points for pantsing them. However, they can’t run again unless their pants are up, so there’s still a strategic advantage to pantsing them.

We’ll say whenever a shark does get pantsed, then we reset the field. This way they can’t just stand around with their pants down to avoid another pantsing. While I would hope they wouldn’t do that, and they’d properly enjoy the spirit of the game, sometimes these rules have to be put in place to stop the spoilsports.

Also, no bonus if the underwear comes down too other than the satisfaction of a job well done

As for could I get the gold? No. not in any of these, I’m not very athletic, nor coordinated. But bring me in as a judge if they ever try the second one. I’m not saying I’m the number 1 pantsing expert in the world, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m top 10. So like, let me judge. I’m an authority, more or less.

I know you guys don’t read much of my short asks, or even just the title on the posts sometimes, but if you read this far, let me know what you think. How would you handle olympic pantsing? Would you compete?

#ask

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

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A Great Treasure

(Jaskier just constantly getting kidnapped by dragons and dressed real pretty? Yeah. I’m into it.)

tw: gratuitous, almost My Immortal levels of outfit description because I am A Ho For The Look, dragons being horny, Geralt being soft as fuck but also kinda horny

---

The next dragon that took Jaskier wasn’t nearly as sneaky. Nor was it green. The great, sapphire-blue reptile swooped down above the road in broad daylight and plucked the surprised bard up with its great talons, disappearing over the tops of the trees before Geralt could so much as think to pull his sword. The Witcher heard Jaskier’s startled cry echo out over the forest and urged Roach into a canter. He departed from the beaten path and took off in the same general direction the creature had been headed. “It hasn’t even been three full fucking weeks yet. Fuck.”

Hello, Jaskier! I’m a friend of Etheid’s, the dragon introduced herself. The draconic method of telepathic communication still bothered the bard a little but the blue dragon’s voice seemed more sing-song than Etheid’s had been. Certainly more feminine. Call me Lythos, or Lyth for short.

“Nice to meet you, Lythos,” Jaskier muttered, clenching his eyes shut tightly. “Let’s talk more when we’re on solid ground, yeah?”

Afraid of heights, bardling?

“Just a smidgen of a little bit.”

Worry not, we’re nearly to my tower.

“Another tower?”

Whatever happened to talking on solid ground?

“I’ve been kidnapped by two dragons in one month. I’m curious.”

I doubt this will be the last time you’re kidnapped by a dragon, either. Not until one of my brethren gives up during their turn or loses the bet.

“Their turn? What bet?! What are you talking about?”

I will explain the situation to you more fully when we land. There is much to be discussed. Many things to plan. Many rules to be determined and recorded for the others.

Jaskier sighed, glad he’d left his lute tied to Roach’s saddlebags today, and let himself be carried off to yet another strange adventure. “So you guys are just going to keep swooping in and stealing me away like this because it’s fun?”

Yes. And because Borch said that you and Geralt are kind-hearted and friendly mortals. We dragons don’t meet many such humans in our travels; we’d like to reward you somehow.

“So you’re rewarding me by kidnapping me?”

That’s why we included the second part of the deal, with the elaborately designed outfits. It’s not just because we enjoy collecting treasures from all over the Continent and squirreling them away to play with later; it’s also our form of payment to you. If you’re dressed from head to toe in silk and gold when Geralt rescues you then there’s no time to stop and take those items off before you ‘escape’. You can keep them or sell them; anything you are given by one of us should be considered payment for services rendered.

“And the service that Geralt and I are providing is...entertainment?”

Correct. It would be unfair to use up so much of a Witcher’s time without paying him.

“You’d be surprised how many people do that, actually,” Jaskier griped. “Village after village, turning him away without payment just because he’s a mutant and a freak. It’s horrible!”

Now you understand why my kin are so desperate for something good in the world. The love between you and Geralt is pure and strong, that is the other reason we chose the two of you.

Jaskier blushed. “We’re just a couple of flimsy mortals that happened to bump into each other and get along. Most of the time. It’s a very human thing to do. There are other couples in need of some emotional urging, if you’re looking to orchestrate a romance.”

No, we wish only to further yours. Now, would you care to look through the clothes I’ve gathered? We have at least another day before your Witcher finds us.

“Less than a day if he chooses not to pause for meditation, the fool.”

He will not risk losing you, Lythos sighed happily. I checked in on him earlier; he is meditating and gathering his strength. He has admitted his love for you now and is determined to prove himself. How dreamy.

“That is absolutely precious! Ugh, I love him so much.”

Then let us make you lovely, so that when he arrives he is doubly excited to see you.

“I can’t argue with that logic. Not from such an ancient and wise creature.”

Flattery gets you everywhere, bard, Lythos teased. She huffed out a thin cloud of steam and Jaskier chuckled in return.

“I know.”

---

“Are you kidding me?”

Absolutely not, the dragon shook its snout. Try them on. Unless you don’t like it, of course; I have other options, too.

“No, it’s all very lovely. It’s just...I get to keep them?”

Of course. I don’t want to make you change your clothes in the middle of Geralt’s daring rescue. That would totally ruin the romance!

“I suppose that would be rather odd. Even Geralt might catch on to something like that.” Jaskier held clothes the dragon had preferred in his hands, glancing once more at the suggested shirt. “What exactly is this supposed to be?”

It’s a tunic, of course. What else could it possibly be?

The bard gesticulated towards the dragon, holding the apparent tunic out for inspection as if he was shocked or surprised by Lyth’s choice. “It’s completely sheer!”

Yes, and it will make you look so very delicate, Lythos urged. Just try it on with the pants. Just once. You can change if you don’t like it, like I said. There’s a whole closet of costumery at your disposal, Jaskier.

The bard sighed and pulled the pants on first. They were made of a deep, peacock blue silk and hugged him in all the right places. He turned back and forth, observing their fit in the full-length mirror Lythos had provided. His legs were defined but the material wasn’t overly tight; it hadn’t bunched up near his thighs or ass like silk of this kind usually did. “Were these tailored to fit me?”

Yes, they were.

“How? I’ve only been here for a few hours and you pulled these directly from the armoire!”

Etheid passed along your measurements to the rest of us so that we could better prepare.

“Right, of course. Dragons. Bets. All that fun stuff,” the bard sighed. He tugged the gossamer shirt down over his head and tucked it neatly into the waistband of his high-waisted trousers. Jaskier glanced towards the mirror again and discovered that he looked...he looked amazing.

The shirt had been designed with a low, swooping neckline that revealed both his collarbones and a good portion of his chest. The thin, almost translucent white material left whatever the shirt did cover still almost entirely visible. When he blushed it could be rather obviously traced all the way down to his mid-chest. The giddy bard mussed his hair a little and did his best pouting ‘rescue me’ face; oh yes, that’s the way to do it.

Jaskier looked downright sinful.

“You are absolutely brilliant, Lythos! Geralt is going to lose his mind when he sees me in this ensemble.”

So you’ll wear it?

“This particular outfit is my new favorite. I’ll have to wait until the next dragon shows up before we can turn a profit from this whole bard-napping melodrama venture.”

There is always the jewelry. I can give you a few extra pieces to sell since you love the clothes so much; I have too much of the stuff sitting around and collecting dust anyway.

“Would you like it if I let you choose all my jewelry? I’m afraid I tend to go a bit overboard.”

Yes, yes! The dragon huffed happily, filling the space briefly with a cloud of steam. I have temporary earrings and bracelets and necklaces. I even have anklets if you so desire.

“Goody!” the bard rejoiced. “I love anklets! I never have good enough reason to wear them, though. This will be lovely. Do you mind if I roll the pants up to my knees? Geralt does so love the sight of my bare skin. I think it would drive him absolutely mad if we showed a little ankle for the Witcher.”

Please do whatever you see fit, my friend, Lythos insisted. You must sparkle for your White Wolf. You must look the part of the treasure he seeks to find!

“Ah, so I’m a treasure this time instead of a damsel?”

Hmm, yes. I think that makes it more interesting. What kind of treasure would you like to be?

“Geralt’s,” the bard breathed dreamily. The large, winged reptile rolled her eyes and huffed again.

Duh, that’s the point. I meant like...pirate treasure? A king’s treasure? I’ve never done roleplay before. Mostly just burning down the houses of rude nobles and kidnapping some princesses upon request. I’m not incredibly familiar with human treasure.

“Oh! I could be your hoard!”

You’re brilliant! Of course! This will be so fun. What if you laid in my tail when Geralt arrived? Like I was guarding you?

“Well then how would he get me away without hurting you?”

I could make him give a speech? Woo you away from me with your words?

“Oh, that’s very clever. Very dramatic. I love it!”

We do make a good team, I think.

“Do you have any makeup? This look would be excellent with some eyeliner.”

You are definitely as entertaining and fun as Etheid promised. I’m sure that Aramaris will enjoy you just as much.

“Wait, who’s Aramaris?”

They chose the next lot after me. Then, after Aramaris has their turn, Vertos would like a chance to partake.

“Hold on a minute. There’s a waiting list of dragons who want to kidnap me?”

And see Geralt come running to your aid, yes. It is rather sweet to watch and we are all very bored. We’re going to see who can make you the prettiest and get Geralt the most worked up.

“So this is just a game to you?”

As I said before, it is both a game and a legitimate matchmaking endeavor. Additionally, we’re compensating you for your time and trouble.

“I suppose,” Jaskier agreed. “Plus this outfit is absolutely to die for.”

Yes, and now to the makeup!

---

Geralt was very confused and very tired. He had tracked the dragon through the woods to yet another ancient, dilapidated tower. Jaskier was hidden at the top, no doubt, probably terrified out of his mind. This was the second dragon to capture his idiot bard in a fucking month, though the first time had been extremely unorthodox. Just plain odd, really, considering Geralt’s previous experiences.

Oh well, nothing he could do now except climb the tower and rescue Jaskier.

---

Jaskier was waiting for his Witcher to arrive while reclining within the coil of Lythos’s enormous blue tail His pants were only a half-shade brighter than her scales and the contrast was remarkably artistic (perhaps by design). The bard was barefoot and his pants were rolled up to just below the knee. Lyth had insisted on decking him out in lots of jewelry since Jaskier was to be her supposed hoard. It will be more realistic and believable if you’re dripping with silver and sapphires, bard. He found himself unable to argue with her logic once again.

Jaskier had a handful of thin silver bands around one ankle, a silver cuff around his left wrist, and another bejeweled cuff at the top of his left bicep, beneath the shirt. Lythos had added a thin silver chain around his neck, which fell to just above his chest hair and ended with a teardrop shaped sapphire pendant. Some kind of crushed gemstone powder had been dusted atop his collarbones and into his hair, making him seem to sparkle in the midday sun. He’d added a light, smudged layer of kohl around his eyes to widen and darken them like he had once at court. The dragon had also demanded that he slide several rings of various styles and sizes onto his long, tapered fingers. It will draw his attention to your hands, she explained. You will thank me tonight, I’m sure.

That suggestion had Jaskier blushing brightly and Lythos had nearly snorted fire from laughing so hard at the young man’s reaction.

Here he comes! She announced, bringing Jaskier’s back to the present. His blue eyes fixated on the thick wooden door that led from the chamber where Lythos lay curled and ‘guarding’ him to the bedchamber where he’d stayed the last two nights. Very shortly after her announcement there was a determined grunt, a heavy thud, and the door crashed open to reveal Geralt.

The Witcher was breathing heavily and his nostrils were flared but he wasn’t wearing his armor. He hadn’t been wearing it last time, either, and Jaskier wondered if he was already onto their little charade. “You know I won’t win if we battle,” Geralt admitted, staring across the room at the lounging dragon.

His eyes flickered to Jaskier for a moment, widened when they took in the bard’s appearance, and then returned to staring down the monster.

I don’t intend to fight you, Witcher, Lythos said, projecting her bored words into both of their minds. Jaskier knew that she was faking the cold disinterest but his heart still picked up speed when one of her large claws hooked beneath his chin and raised him into a slightly taller sitting position. Though I suspect that you’ve come to take back my newest treasure and I am loathe to let it go so soon.

The Witcher nodded, unable to form words. He was nervous for the life of his bard but he was also slightly distracted by the way Jaskier was being forced to arch his neck and tilt his head that way. The bard looked so fucking breakable and soft, surrounded by scales and held partially aloft by such a strong and pointed appendage. His eyes were wide and completely focused on the Witcher, his own peril seemingly irrelevant even as he gasped against the scraping claw. Geralt shook his head to clear it and narrowed his eyes even more. “Don’t hurt him.”

It’s my treasure, Lythos hummed dismissively. I will do with the human lad as I please. Go away, Witcher, and leave us to play.

“He’s not a toy,” Geralt growled. He reached for his sword and cursed when his hand swiped through empty air. He knew bringing a weapon up so many flights of stairs was pointless but he still should have kept it on him for safety. Jaskier made a gentle, nervous noise and the Wicher flinched. “Please don’t hurt him!”

You would barter for the human? For his safe return?

“Take me instead,” Geralt offered. He held his hands up in surrender and took a slow step forward. Lythos lowered Jaskier back down to his lazily reclined position and raised her scaly brow. The bard was shocked; he hadn’t been expecting the Witcher to do something so drastic right away. He’d anticipated some kind of argument first.

You would sacrifice yourself for him? Trade yourself to me in order to save him?

“Of course,” the Witcher scoffed. Lythos could hear his slow heartbeat starting to accelerate. “I love him. I’d do anything for him.”

Hmm. Little treasure, what do you think?

“I can’t let him do that for me. He’s a Witcher, I am merely a traveling bard. The world has more need for him than it does for me.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt half-whimpered. A pleading tone bled into his words as he took another step forward, this time towards the bard, “You foolish man. I know you. You’d grow bored here. You’d grow antsy to travel. You’d try to escape and you’d get yourself hurt or killed or...”

I protect what is mine, the dragon interrupted. He will be safe here. I will keep him happy and entertained.

“Please,” the Witcher sighed. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head forward, white hair falling in a curtain around his ridiculously attractive face. “Jaskier was the first good thing Destiny ever did for me. I can’t lose him.”

I have seen into your heart and know these feelings to be true, Lythos intoned. She spoke as if she was making a very difficult decision and not sticking to a vague pre-determined script. You may take the bard and go, but you must hurry. I may change my mind.

Jaskier clambered out from between the coils of her massive tail and allowed Geralt to sweep him up into those strong, stable arms. He clung to the Witcher’s neck and buried his face to hide his smile. Lythos said her final goodbye to the bard alone; I hope my kin treat you fairly. If they do not, let me know, and I shall take care of it. Thank you for the lovely time.

“Thank YOU,” Jaskier mouthed.

And then they began to descend the winding tower staircase.

---

“I hope I never see another dragon again in my life except for maybe Borch,” Geralt panted, urging Roach into a slightly faster canter.

“Yeah,” Jaskier said, smiling a little to himself. “Running into another dragon so soon after two nearly identical kidnappings would be very strange.”

#geraskier fic #geraskier #like 2.5k words i think #soft geralt #geraskier ficlet #in league with dragons #protective geralt #the dragons treat jaskier like a paper doll #let's dress up the bard #and mess with the witcher #that'll be fun #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #ooooh boy #in league with dragons pt 2 #we've kidnapped the bard so now what #how many will it take before geralt realizes something is up?#inhuman jaskier

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meetthetank · 4 years ago

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Beast Code Chapter 1: The Twilit City

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationship: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), Original YoRHa Characters (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Transformation, gothic horror, Android Lycanthropy...sort of, Inspired by Bloodborne (Video Game), Everyday i get closer to just writing a Bloodborne AU

Summary: Break the vicious cycle with tooth and claw. Unleash the beast within and destroy your chains. But the strength to defy fate comes at a grave cost. Will it be enough, little doll? Or will you succumb to despair once more?

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31546982

The assignment to the Twilight Belt comes as a shock to 2B and 9S. Rarely, if ever, are YorHa units sent to this border of perpetual daylight and eternal night. Conditions are always reported as unstable by the infrequent scans by one of the other satellite bases that orbit earth, too dangerous to deploy scanners by themselves, and too depleted of resources for the Council to care about. The mystery surrounding the strip of permanent twilight goads curious operators and scanners alike to comb through files searching for nuggets of data, image or video files, anything they can get their hands on. All but a few pieces of data reveal tantalizing scraps and clues to the puzzle of the Sunset Belt. Photographs of dead machines with toothy, gaping maws that split their spherical heads in two and minerals warped in peculiar shapes. According to one of the situation reports from a scanner that had been sent there, there was an eerie, foreboding feeling about the place; that strange and frightening sounds would echo across the landscape and that he felt close to a forbidden barrier that separated this world from another. Though the file and its contents are now treated as a human “ghost story”, many androids, including 2B and 9S, believe at least some portion of the tale.

9S relays this story to 2B as they descend to Earth’s surface, his chattering easing some of 2B’s trepidation. The pair had fallen into an easy rhythm over the course of several assignments to Earth, most of which involved retrieving data from lost servers buried in rubble or clearing out an area of machine lifeforms. Despite her outwardly cold demeanor, 9S wormed his way past all of her defenses, forming a strong, solid relationship with the battler android. His voice is a centering point for her and assists in ignoring the gut churning possibilities of what could be waiting for them below.

“...What do you think, 2B?” his voice crackles from the comms system inside her flight unit.

“Hm?” she shifts her head to the side, glancing at his jet black flight unit cruising beside hers.

“What do you think made the target go rogue?”

She bites her lower lip. There are a thousand possible answers as to why a normally punctual, efficient YorHa Battle unit would suddenly stop responding to command and not checking in at required times. Only a few of those options were machine lifeform related complications.

“We’ll find out when we arrive, 9S.” she says curtly, eager to shut down the conversation, “Focus on landing protocol.”

He sighs, a sound of annoyance and frustration, “Yeah, yeah.”

“One affirmation will-”

“Fiiiiiiiine.”

The final phase of their descent is spent in silence. They pass through the Earth’s atmosphere in streaks of fire and light towards the border of day and night, and a continent that humans called Europe. Even as they descend, the outlines of ancient, massive structures come into view. Both androids are used to the thick vegetation eating away at the remains of human structures, but here the trees are gnarled, twisted, and void of leaves or blossoms. Their branches reach to the crimson sky and permanently setting sun like bony hands in prayer or a stag’s antlers. As 2B and 9S set their flight units down a few miles away from the outskirts of a sprawling, ancient city. It amazes 9S, as he exits his own unit, that the buildings are in such good condition considering the millenia that have passed it by. Great spires of countless cathedrals pierce the heavens, casting an ominous, looming shadow over the otherwise barren landscape. A well worn cobblestone road, lined with rusted iron lighting fixtures long since burnt out, leads into the city proper.

2B and 9S stand at the precipice of this ancient beast of stone and metal in awe of its size, and terrified of what might lurk within. A hoarse bird’s caw, jolts the androids back into awareness, 2B drawing her katana and prepares for battle.

“Heh,” 9S laughs, trying to calm them both down, “Just a raven, 2B.”

“What?”

“A large black bird. Harmless to us.” He doesn’t tell her about the chill he gets down his spine as he watches the corvid gaze down at them with beady black eyes, or how humans saw these birds as ill omens or prophets of death.

They begin the trek into the forgotten city. 2B doesn’t put Virtuous Contract away.

Pod 042 alerts 2B to the presence of an unidentifiable android signal, marking the location on both hers and 9S’ map. Since the area has yet to be properly mapped out by satellite imagery (as inaccurate as that process is) only a vague street layout is available through a very low power scan. They have no way of judging what might block their path to the target beyond featureless grey masses depicting buildings, rubble, large trees, or whatever else may lie in wait. Their target, represented by a small orange dot on the map, appears to be near the city’s main gate and inside one of the larger buildings. 2B refuses to admit it to herself, but she’s relieved to not have to delve too far into this labyrinthine city.

“I’ve never seen the sky this color…” 9S muses as he stares up, transfixed by the blood red sky and orange sun hanging low.

Though hauntingly beautiful, she won’t deny, 2B keeps her gaze fixed on the wrought iron gate ahead of them. The heavens disturb her; they are the color of death. Of war. And the sun is… wrong.

She snaps at 9S to keep focused as they approach the gate to the city. Though scans indicate there are no machine lifeforms, or any lifeforms beyond their target, she’s learned from countless combat assignments to not rely totally on what the support unit reports. She’s encountered and seen machines that mask themselves from scans or camouflage themselves in the environment, and in a place like this anything could be hiding in the shadows just outside of view.

The iron gate lies ajar, worn from millennia of neglect. Clouds of rust particles burst from the hinges as 2B shoves it open further, the metal grinding against itself with a horrible grating shriek. The sound makes them both wince, and they slip through the partially opened gate as soon as they can.

Standing inside the city gates, 9S can’t shake the uneasy feeling that claws at the back of his mind. The great ancient human structures loom above them, and though he knows that the buildings themselves aren’t alive, he can’t shake the notion that he’s being watched by them. The windows are dark, but when he passes by the light of the setting sun reflects off of them, giving them the illusion of intelligence. Suddenly, 9S feels as if he’s inside a cave, or locked in a room with no exit. Suddenly… He finds it hard to breathe. 9S tugs at the collar of his jacket as if it's tightening around his throat. His synthetic lungs fill with air as much as he can take, then he releases it moments later. It calms him, if only a little.

2B’s gaze is fixed ahead on the building Pod 042 marked as the rogue android’s hiding place. It’s a much smaller structure than the others that choke the sky, but its reach stretches across the streets like a tree’s roots. Judging by the well preserved signs that hang from crumbled doors it looked to have multiple uses. 9S commands his own Pod to run scans on the words and symbols for later analysis.

“The target’s in here…” 2B murmurs, holding her free hand up in a tight fist, signaling 9S to stop behind her.

This portion of the sprawling building is similar in structure to the massive spires above. It has the same pointed section on the roof, but much smaller in scale, and similar symbols decorate the exterior. A cross, winged humans, various flowering plants, and a number of human figures bowing their heads or supplicating themselves to the winged humans.

“This must have been a place of worship,” 9S muses aloud.

“Focus.”

He nods. Typically 9S argues with his partner about the necessity for recording data like this, or excuse his wandering attention to his designation as a scanner, but he knows the danger within the house of worship, or rather, he doesn’t know. Neither one of them knows what this rouge android is capable of.

2B presses her hand against the wooden doors to the chapel and pushes it open as slowly as possible. It groans in protest, dust falls from its hinges and frame, but it swings inward. A rush of warm air washes over them carrying the scent of stale incense and dead machines. Clouds of smoke billow out of the doorway, rising into the red sky like twisted fingers. 2B enters first, sliding in sword arm first. She motions for 9S to wait for a moment, then commands Pod 042 to switch on its flashlight.

9S peeks his head around the door, keeping a few paces behind his partner. He switches on his own Pod’s flashlight to illuminate more of the pitch black interior. Long wooden benches are pushed up against the walls, opening up the center space. Ornate candle holders, rotting books, charred incense burners, and pieces of artwork among other things 9S has no name for are scattered across the ground, each one a priceless human artifact that could fuel hours of study. Yet it’s not these that hold 9S’ attention, but the statue at the far back of the chapel, and the figure kneeling in front of it.

It looks to be made of some kind of marble, a pristine white stone that has been sheltered from time and the elements. The subject is another winged human, this one wearing splendid armor and wielding a great spear. Beneath them, a grotesque, writhing beast bares its teeth and claws at the warrior as the blade pierces its throat. 9S has never seen anything like it in person, and very few records of these kinds of sculptures remain at all. It’s both horrific and beautiful at once. He wonders what the human who made this saw that inspired it. Did creatures like these roam the world during their time?

2B steps in front of him, Virtuous Contract at the ready. The figure in front of the statue rises to their feet as the Pod’s flashlights center on them. A cloak made of feathers conceals most of their form but they appear to be a female android, perhaps a YorHa model. Though, if that were the case it would have been in the mission briefing. That is, unless...

The android turns her head to the side, glaring at the pair over her shoulder.

“So, Command sent the wolves, did they?” She asks, a distinct rumble in her voice.

2B raises her blade and keeps her gaze steady. She hears 9S also ready his weapon, the golden katana Cruel Oath.

Lazily, the android turns her body to face them. Her clothes confirm her origins; there’s no mistaking the sharp white embellishments and black velvet of a YorHa uniform; however each piece is ripped, tattered, and stitched together with other scraps of clothing or… animal hide.

The rouge android drags the blade of a bloodied top heavy sword between her fingers, cleaning the gore from it. “It doesn’t matter, dog.” Her eyes shine with a strange, purplish light that refracts around her collapsed, twisted pupils. “You will fall like the rest.”

It isn’t until the rogue android rushes forward, sword raised, that 2B sees the corpses of YorHa units piled in front of the statue, and the blood that soaks it.

She dashes backward and shoves the bewildered 9S out of harm's way. The android’s bloodied sword crashes into the stonework floor, sending thousands of years of dust into the air. 2B lunges, her katana poised to take advantage of the enemy’s opening, but she sidesteps much quicker than anticipated. The rogue’s fist slams into 2B’s chest, distorting her internal sensors and throwing her off balance. 2B watches in horror as the rogue drives her sword towards her, but a golden flash knocks the blade away.

“2B!” 9S shouts, brandishing Cruel Oath. “Are you okay?!”

She shakes her head as if it would clear the internal errors from her vision, but she assumes her battle stance next to her partner. “Fine.”

Both androids launch into an assault on the rogue, attacking in tandem. Despite 2B’s scrambled sensors, she and 9S have an undeniable synergy that comes with countless missions. 2B forces the rogue back with singular, powerful blows, while 9S jabs at any opening he can reach from the sides. However, even with their combined might the rogue deflects and maneuvers out of the way of each attack as casually as one would flick away an insect or step around a puddle. She looks to be expending no effort at all as she dances around the two YorHa. Anger and frustration rises in 2B, culminating in a harsh growl. She mimics the rogue’s tactic from earlier, rushing forward and feinting with a crushing overhead strike that is easily dodged but allows no time for recovery. She slams her fist into the rogue android’s face, sending her stumbling backwards. Before 9S can dive in with a horizontal slash the rogue dashes backward, putting crucial distance between her and her hunters.

The rogue android lowers her gaze at the pair, sizing them up, taking stock of their abilities and assessing their weaknesses. 2B watches her eyes dart back and forth between her and 9S, then linger on 9S. Sensing the rogue’s motive and deciding at that moment that the outcome is unacceptable, 2B dives in front of the strike meant for 9S. The rogue’s sword slices cleanly through her chest, coating the rogue’s clothes in splatters of fresh blood. The battler falls to her knees, clutching the wound with one hand while supporting herself on her sword.

“No!!” 9S screams and lunges at their target. “2B!!”

“Hm. Interesting.” The rogue murmurs, easily deflecting the scanner’s wild strikes.

2B watches through blurred, error obscured vision as 9S drives the rogue back. If she didn’t know any better it’d seem that he has the upper hand, but the rogue’s eyes glint in a way 2B recognizes all too well. She’s baiting him.

9S slams his blade against the rogue’s, pressing all of his power and weight into the strike. It’s the moment she had been waiting for. Suddenly she pulls back, letting 9S’ weight fall forward and forcing him off balance. She kicks his legs out from under him then shoves him into the floor. 9S lets out a startled, choked gasp as his weight and the force of the rogue’s attack cracks the stone floor, sending up more clouds of dust into the air.

Clutching her chest, 2B roars and charges at the target with blinding speed. When she sees the smirk twisting the rogue’s lips and the pointed iron rod in her grip, it’s too late. With a flash of her crowfeather cape, the android meets 2B’s charge with her own, the skewer aimed at her wounded chest. 2B tries to divert her body away, but the momentum is too strong. It’s just enough to roll her body to the side so that the spike pierces clean through her shoulder, clear of critical systems.

The pain, however, is agonizing.

It’s different from the injuries 2B has suffered in the past. Countless machine swords, spears, and axes have torn through her body and of course all of those injuries hurt, but they were manageable. When the iron bar rips through layers of cloth, skin, carbon plating and frame, and synthetic muscle fibers it's as if her shoulder has been set on fire. She clenches her teeth, muffling a scream to a low growl. Her hand wraps around the skewer, close to the wound itself. Instinct tells her to tear it out immediately, but she knows that without treatment doing so would only worsen her condition. 2B doesn’t get to make that decision, unfortunately. The rogue grabs hold of the end of the iron rod and twists it side to side, driving it further into 2B’s shoulder.

2B sinks to her knees and tries to hold back the cries of agony. Her injured arm stops responding to commands and lies limp and useless against her side. She swats at the rogue android with her weakening other arm, desperate to escape from this torment. Her strength fades along with her vision; it becomes impossible to even hold herself upright.

She must not fall, she must not… she must stay strong, she must stay alive.

She will not allow him to die…

Not for the sake of a monster like her….

9S leaps into the fight as the rogue android prepares a killing blow. A flurry of Pod fire, sword strikes, and furious movement all blur together into a white, gold, and black haze. She fights to stay awake, she fights to stand, but her body begins to shut down non-vital systems and conserve as much energy as she can. First her tactile sensors switch off, leaving her in a numbing cold. Then her hearing, quickly followed by sight. A warning flashes across the last vestiges of her vision that she is entering a forced shutdown state, and despite her audio sensors being deactivated, she swears she hears 9S cry out for her.

….

…….

………

……….

……..

….

2B opens her eyes to the blinding, sterile white of hacking space. This itself is not shocking. Oftentimes she would run diagnostics on her critical systems when in a forced shutdown, both to manage critical systems and to keep herself busy.

But now, in the distance, there is an anomaly.

A single figure, black as night, approaches her. It’s shape is human up till its head, which sports pointed ears and a long snout like that of a dog or wolf. It looms over her and leaves a black, fragmented mist in its wake. But most troubling of all in this world of stark monochrome is its eye…. or what 2B believes is an eye. In the center of its lupine face is a strange geometric sigil that emits a highly saturated purple light. It feels… malicious. The thought itself is insane to 2B. Light cannot possess intent or emotions, and yet…

“This is an unacceptable outcome.” A voice booms in her head. Somehow she knows it is the entity speaking.

2B opens her mouth to respond, but instead of words, thick crimson fluid leaks from her throat.

“You will die. He will die. You cannot abide by this.”

She shakes her head. Droplets of blood fall to the pristine floor. The entity is right. If she has any strength left, 9S will live.

“Stand, little doll,” the entity commands, “Stand and unleash y-...Be——…..d.”

The entity’s voice becomes warped and distorted with audio glitches, yet 2B understands its words with frightening clarity.

“Take-......l-...s within.”

It holds a hand out to her, offering her something she can’t quite make out. The shape in its palm is amorphous, colorless, and flickers with lines of jumbled code. Somehow, she knows this piece of herself in intimate detail, yet cannot remember what this does or what its relation to the entity is.

But it promises strength enough to save 9S.

2B reaches out and takes the code in her hand…

….

………….

…………………………

………………………………………………………..

Her eyes snap open. A current of raw energy runs through her body, electrifying every nerve and sensor within her. She shakes with each pulse of her circulatory apparatus as a new, terrifying strength takes hold. 2B rises to her feet, flexing her hands, legs, arms. One arm’s movement is restricted by the iron bar still stuck in her shoulder. She tears it out with little effort, casting it to the floor. The rattling, hollow sound echoes against the stone chapel.

The rogue’s head snaps up from her combat with 9S, who is barely able to hold his sword. Something in her expression changes. She kicks 9S and points her sword at 2B, her arms shaking in a way they had not before.

2B lunges forward, her sword raised high. The rogue raises her own sword to deflect, but 2B’s newfound strength breaks her guard with one mighty strike. With blinding speed 2B slices through the rogue android’s body. Her crowfeather cape flutters to the floor, soon followed by her arm. The rouge android staggers back, an expression of shock and horror twisting her face. 2B drives her sword through the rogue’s chest, forcing her back further. Instead of drawing her sword back for another strike, a terrifying feeling takes over 2B. She leaves the sword inside the rogue’s chest and tackles her to the ground. With her bare hands and horrible strength, 2B delivers blow after blow to the android’s chest, shoulder, arms, head, and abdomen. Each piece is reduced to a pulp of flesh and metal one after the next until nothing remains but scrap.

2B throws her head back as she straddles her victim, a horrible, twisted grin plastered across her face and arms outstretched. Her body feels wrong… horribly wrong, yet for the first time since she can remember, her chest is light. She gazes up at the morbid sculpture with an emotion she can’t quite describe. It isn’t the same as a combat high, she is intimately familiar with that heady rush. This is something akin to… euphoria. A laugh begins to bubble up in her throat-

“2B?”

She’s forced back to reality by the 9S’ voice, right beside her ear. Suddenly, the terrible strength from moments before fades from her body. Her arms go limp by her sides, and it becomes hard to sit upright. Even breathing is laborious. 9S wraps his arms around her shoulders and tugs her gently, laying her head and shoulders against his chest.

“I’ve got you. We… I think we’re safe.” His breathing is uneven and ragged, much like 2B’s. He swivels his head back and forth, searching for any lingering threats as quickly as possible. “Pod, run a scan for machine lifeform or android signals in the immediate area,” he commands.

Pod 153 is silent for a moment, then emits a grating, hideous garbled noise. Words try to break through the audio distortions but neither 2B or 9S is confident it isn’t simply what they wish to hear.

“Alert:” Pod 042 begins, “Interference from unknown source is preventing accurate scans of the surrounding area. Proposal: Relocate to an elevated aaaaaaa…..a-r-....rrr……”

The same audio distortions come from 042, mingling with 153’s until they both cut off, leaving the androids in silence. “Pod?” 9S calls to the floating support unit. “Pod, respond. ... Pod?”

2B mutters weakly to her own Pod, but it's the same as 9S’. No response at all.

9S pulls up a small data screen, map data, from what 2B can tell. Or… where map data would be. Instead, there’s a blank, grey screen and a little message box that reads No Data.

“What the-...” 9S whispers, flipping through different screens at a frantic pace. “Where-... There’s… all the data is gone!” he shouts, “No map, no signal scans… I can’t even connect to the Bunker…”

“We’re stranded…” 2B muses aloud.

Silence passes between them. Only the ominous wind passing through ancient wood and stone reminds them that the world hasn’t stopped moving around them.

“We should move to a higher area, like your Pod said.” 9S suggests, rising to his feet. “Can you stand?”

When 9S offers a hand out to her, 2B takes it without thinking. His touch, even through his thick gloves, calms the beast pacing inside her.

Beast?

…..What does that mean?

2B rises to her feet, her hands lingering in 9S’ for a moment longer than she normally would. There’s a fog in her head that distorts her equilibrium. She leans on 9S for support, to which he wraps his arm around her waist and positions himself under her shoulder.

“I got you.” He says with a small smile.

2B feels just a bit lighter.

They exit the chapel and make for higher ground. 9S rationalizes that if they simply continue up stairs or inclines they would find a space clear of whatever is interfering with the Pod’s satellite connections. Perhaps it’s the fog that creeps across the cobblestone streets or the odd angle of the sun (not that it makes sense to 9S or 2B but they have to consider all possibilities), or perhaps it’s something beyond that. There’s a strange, eerie feeling about this city that neither can explain, and neither want to talk about. As if there’s a presence constantly watching over them.

They climb the stairs of one of the massive sprawling religious buildings. From what 9S assesses, it seems to have one of the tallest spires in the city. Only a larger time-keeping building looming in the distance is larger. If he could reach the top he should be far enough above whatever is interfering with the Pods. When he relays his plan to 2B who only nods, her eyes unfocused and breathing shallow, worry starts to lace its icy fingers through his chest. Something is wrong with her.

9S’ first instinct is to prepare a data backup with the bunker, but the Pods are both out of commission for the time being. His next is to contact command and ask how they should proceed, to the same conclusion. Climbing the spire is the only course of action he can take, but first, he has to make sure 2B is safe.

He leads her through the castle of worship, now supporting most of her weight. That… frightening show of strength must have exhausted her power supply. There are plenty of well preserved wooden benches that stretch across half of the main worship chambers, at least it would be more comfortable than the stone floors. Under watch by the countless grotesque statues that sit in the rafters, 9S helps 2B onto a long bench, laying her on her back. She hisses and grinds her teeth as she moves. She must have sustained internal damage from that fight…

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, “I’m going to go to the roof to get a clear signal.”

All 2B gives in response is a slow nod. He lingers by her side before leaving, a moment longer than needed.

Now alone in this spacious, hollow, human structure, 2B takes stock of her condition. There’s pain in her shoulders, particularly her right arm. Her legs are tight, most locking up from the strain of the previous battle and trekking up to her current location. Her back, as well, is tense beyond discomfort. It spasms and jolts if she breathes too hard. At least these are injury related, explainable. The black wolfman with purple eyes lingering in the corners of her vision, is not.

She sees the entity in the shadows, lurking just out of view. 9S walks right past it, not even sparing a glance at the tall, gangly creature. It doesn’t respond to 9S either, instead focusing on 2B and only 2B.

The sight of it makes her stomach turn. She tries to close her eyes, but the glowing, purple sigil is burned into her vision. With a groan she digs her knuckles into her eyelids as if she could carve the hallucination out of the air. Defeated, 2B lets her arms down once more. One hand touches the cool stone floor, decorated with elegant mosaics, and she suddenly realizes how warm she is. According to the warning messages displayed in her vision her body temperature is ten degrees above normal levels.

“Pod,” she groans, forcing herself to sit up, “retrieve water from storage-”

“Report: Mail notification received from Command.”

The monotone voice of her support unit shocks her. Pod 042 had been silent up until now due to whatever interference was in the area, and now it’s getting messages from Command? 9S must have established a connection from the roof.

Her heart sinks. If that’s the case he would contact her. The first thing she’d hear would be his voice.

She opens the message, dreading its contents.

Subject has accessed confidential records. Eliminate the Target.

At the top of the spire 9S takes in the view of the entire city, the wind rushing through his hair. It’s breathtaking. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. The sky dyes the entire urban sprawl red, as well as the mountains on the horizon. His pulse races as he drinks in the terrifying awe of what the ancient humans were capable of, hoping to remember every last detail of the buildings, the streets, and the magnificent sculptures that litter the city. It’s all so well preserved that he feels as though a human might appear, walking down the cobblestone streets as if nothing were wrong. As if they didn’t go extinct.

Reluctantly he draws his attention away from the splendor of humanity’s ruins, and shakes away the creeping emptiness that comes with that line of thought. He can’t think about that now. He and 2B are stranded. 9S produces a holographic terminal that mirrors Pod 153’s settings menu. Pod’s diagnostics on his end show buildup of foreign material in and around certain receivers, something that 9S expects, but that is only part of the problem. It seems that the atmosphere in this place is clogged with various chemicals and particles that make satellite transmissions more difficult. Considering all of the decaying metal and stone it’s no wonder that there’s so much particulate in the air. Once Pod’s receivers are clear 9S has Pod 153 hover just above the spire’s tip. It stays suspended in the air, the small light on the top of its body turning on and off at regular intervals.

“Connection established.” Pod 153 announces moments later. “Proposal: Contact the Bunker for support.”

“Great! Set up a relay connection for Pod 042 as well.”

“Affirmative.”

9S opens a data screen laden with information and begins composing his message to Operator 21O. With an unreliable connection a live call would be too risky, a simple text based message won’t be distorted or cut out. He records a brief message, attaches a transcription of his words, and sends it to the Bunker. Hopefully 21O would send something quickly-

A flash of movement in the streets below catches his eye. Something running on all fours... “Pod… run a scan for machine lifeforms…” He says, a chill creeping up his spine.

Pod 153 floats down to his side. “Alert: Multiple machine lifeforms detected. Proposal: Regroup with Unit 2B.”

“But-”

That thing didn’t look like a machine…

“Alert: Anomalous signal detect-”

Pod 153’s words are drowned by a horrific, mournful howl that reverberates through the entire building. 9S clings to the ornate decorations on the spire and covers his ears with his free hand. His body runs cold. He’s never heard a sound like that before. Nothing the machines make comes close to that. The pain and sorrow in that noise is something that no animal could produce either. That left only one possibility…

Another roar wracks the building from within…

2B clutches the sides of her head, the data screen long dismissed.

No…

Her chest strains under her panicked breaths.

No.

She hadn’t been watching him. She hadn’t been keeping track of his questions and behavior…

No… No.

And now she…

No no no no no .

She has to…

no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

NO.

She will not do this. Not again.

Her skin feels… tight.

She will fight off every single goddamn android Command sends until there are none left but her and him. She will not be a part of this cycle again. Her hands curl into fists as a surge rushes through her body, alighting her nerves with energy. With power.

A shadow moves across the stone floor of the castle of worship. The entity, its form inky black, its sigil emitting a baleful purple light, glides towards her. It bathes her in the highly saturated light, a light not even shielding her eyes can diffuse. It bores into her core, it peers into her mind. It speaks into her mind.

“You will not allow this to happen.” Its voice echoes off the hollow shell of where humans once sought God. “But strength comes at a price, little doll.”

The entity plunges its claws into her chest. Heat explodes throughout her body to the point where she fears she might self-destruct. The boiling tendrils of this ethereal monster sink into her artificial heart and her Black Box. Something activates, or… unlocks, and suddenly she feels… confined. Her body… it’s too small….

“Time to pay the toll…”

It rips its claws, now writhing shadow-like whips, out of her chest, then vanishes. 2B’s vision is obscured, but not by warnings and error messages, by blood. Red veins pulse on the edges of her sight in time with her heart. Each beat sends waves of heat, electricity, and agony through her body.

“Stand, little doll. Stand, and unleash your beasthood.”

A scream forms in 2B’s throat, but it cannot break through her swelling throat and gritted teeth. She takes frantic, shallow breaths. Her limbs shake, her fingernails dig into the stonework floor. It’s so hot…

2B rolls onto the floor and rips away her tight uniform. Far too tight. Parts of her dress were already beginning to tear as her muscles swell. Blood trickles from various wounds where her skin has split, revealing the thick, synthetic muscle cords that lie beneath. Her blindfold is next, but removing it does not help her vision. One eye is unfocused, blurring all of her vision.

She drags her fingernails across her body and lets out a deep, animal snarl when she tears into her own flesh. Looking down at her hands, she recoils at the sight of long, black claws that split her fingers down the center. Skin falls from them in long strips to the point where the mechanical joints of her hands are exposed.

Something snaps inside her, somewhere in her upper back. She howls in agony, in sorrow, as her spine lengthens, twists, and grows too fast for her body to maintain. Her insides are compacted and grind against each other, sending sickening vibrations throughout her. Her throat finally opens up, allowing her to breathe. She watches as puffs of steam escape her mouth into the warm twilight air.

Another crack and something explodes out of her lower back. Her balance is thrown off and she falls forward, smashing her face into stone. Another snarl, this one combined with the gnashing of fangs. Her mouth warps, splitting out of her face into a muzzle. Eyes follow, one swelling to fit its now spacious socket while the other stunts and refuses to change. She claws at the peeling skin of whatever she can reach, spilling more of her blood in the process. Everything hurts, everything itches, but oh god the power feels so good.

A growth springs from above her unchanged eye, weighing her head down and hunching her body over. She supports herself with one enormous hand, the other scooping the wires and tubing that spills out of her torn stomach and forcing them back inside her abdominal cavity. The twisting extension of her spine, a tail, thuds against the floor and counters the weight of her head.

2B shakes the mane of bloodied, white hair from her functioning eye, turns her head to the sky, and roars.

#nier automata #2B #9S #2B9S #fanfiction #nier fanfiction #Tanks fics

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0aurelion-sol0 · 4 years ago

Text

SNK 134: Why we need to move forward.

Well...

That's horrifying...

Oh but whatever they are probably bad people in there. Thieves, greedy people, hateful mothers, men who beat their wives , liars, bullies, killers, murderers, rapist, child rapist and racist babies.

Yeah...

This is a rhetoric that has been used for ages and is currently being used in this fandom especially on reddit and 4chan.

The justification of injustice.

When George Floyd was slammed on the ground and died because he couldn't breathe anymore, conservatives and republicans at large ignored the police brutaliy leading up to that.

He was just a cocaine or drug addict who one day pointed a gun at a pregnant lady. So he was a criminal and deserved that.

Of course ignoring the racial segregation that happened from the very legalized slavery hundreds of years ago and how poor and racially stigmatized black people are being in America right now.

When the Uyghurs are being genocided by China, the world blinds itself because China is one the worlds necessary assets in economy as it basically produces a good chunk of what is being used in the world. Most made by children, " but it makes us live "... Apparently that's the only logical reason...

When Palestinians and Israelis are literally killing each other over some complicated non sense that no one ever really understands and also Israël basically doing Apartheid at this point,

When the totality of the Middle East has turned into a warzone because of the United States's violent imperialism,

When most far right or extremist group decided that Islam and Islamic terrorism are the same thing,

When xenophobes and racist always attack immigration,

"If she wasn't wearing that skirt, she probably wouldn't have been raped",

When we have homophobes, transphobes, LGBTphobes, telling us what's natural and always bragging about "\___-_-___/ God, Holy Jesus",

When you have people who tells you that poor people chose their way of living when there are a small percent of billionaires and soon to be trillionaires having such a gigantic amount of wealth,

When 6 millions Jews were genocided which was 40% of Jewish people at the time and 2/3 of European Jews,

When the prime minister of Israël is saying that the Holocaust wasn't Hitler's Idea but Haj Amin al-Husseini, (who was extremely anti semitic, don't get me wrong)who suggested it to him maiking the prime minister a revisionist but at the same time making his actions against Palestinians justified,

When around the world Christianic places of worship are being vandalized,

When entire SYSTEMS of segregations have made societies work,

When the South American continent has been attacked by the United States because of different political beliefs,

When people use their rape as a way to attack other communities of a specific religion or color,

When Black Panthers uses racism against White people because of the story of USA and are being anti semitic but essentializing a whole group,

When Nationalistic Israelis tells you what is a good Jew and what isn't a good Jew,

When dozens of groups have been forced to extinction,

Natives who were being murdered, yeah? YOU DON'T SEE THAT A LOT IN YOUR COWBOY MOVIES ?

When literal "feminist" calls for the destruction of men while they can't educate the kids about what to do and what not to do, OH, can also be transphobic apparently,

When you have entire websites who encourages pedophilia,

And pedophiles killed, left alone and live a life of endless torment while no one does nothing to help them and fight those who encourages it even in the highest places of our society,

Oh and Hollywood, that's all I need to say.

And let's not even talk about animal brutality and the destruction of ecosystems.

And there is more and more and more and more and more and FUCKING MORE,

All that because of reasons, reasons, reasons, reasons,

All stuck in a cycle of hate, violence and discrimination that just never ends.

The selfishness,

The greed,

And at end, everything is meaningless. There is just blood.

This is what this chapter represent the meaningless of it all. How everything goes to shit...

How everyone, whether it's the oppresor or the oppresed, will justify the violence, the injustice.

Society does nothing cause society right now runs for the entitled and the entitled only and creates it's own monsters.

I want to ask those people who defend the rumbling.

After everything we saw in this manga, after what the real world has commited, after how much these real events have inspired this story, how can you say it was the only way ?

After everyone hided Hange valuable informations including Eren who had information about KRUGER who was a spy in MARLEY. Who has created a civil war in Eldia and activated the rumbling while killing Eldian civilians in the way.

After seeing the mental breakdown of Bertolt, who we don't hear about anymore, Annie and Reiner's mental breakdown over GENOCIDING AN ENTIRE GROUP OF PEOPLE, by the way Reiner totally didn't develop another persona at that time to cope with what he was doing, HUH ?

After all the deaths, Carla, Grisha, Dina, Faye Marco, Levi's squad, Ymir, Erwin, Sasha, Hange, Hannes, Floch and many others, how can you go and be like "CHAD EREN, BEING DADDY, FUCKING HIS MEAT WAIFU, PHILOSOPHER FREEDOM SEEKER"

"104th crybabies... xDdDDDD Prfrpfr"

Come on...

This isn't serious at this point.

And for the H character, we're gonna come back for her but...

GODDAMNIT!

THANK YOU, DEATH.

This has sparked debates.

Some are thankful for this speech by the commander.

Others are finding it disingenous.

Others think it's too on the nose and not natural.

Others don't care.

On my part, I enjoy it but I take it with the context. Most of their airships have been destroyed and they are facing their doom upfront right now. It's more of a death plea at this point. Just like in the cave with Histor... GOD IT'S SO HARD SAYING HER NAME... with Historia who said truly horrible things at the point of an imminent death. At that moment, words like this can tell what you really are inside but even that is not enough to have a full picture.

It did have some interesting elements.

It is true, using, raising, breeding hate and shoving problems upon a group will always come bite you up the ass someday.

Marley in their extensive and violent coloniaslistic, imperialiatic behavior towards Eldia creates only weaknesses for them on an international field and create this monstruosity that is right now Eren.

Eren, a soldier who suffer from trauma and PTSD, who has terrible insecurities and everything to lose after losing so much and possibly in my book being influenced by another entity decides to kill them all.

But...

In no way does that justify Eren's actions, in fact it goes against it.

He is just as angry and hateful as they were back then but instead of destroying the system, he decides to genocide.

Essentializing the whole world as your ennemy and problem, and deciding to get rid of it is just continuing what has been started and continued for hundreds of years before.

No one ever thinks about the simple families, the innocent children, the homeless...

What about them Eren ?

What about the people who faced discrimination like Ramzi ?

What about the other groups that are almost extinct just like yours ?

What about the groups that tried to support the Eldians but were considered freaks ? HUH ?

What about the babies and innocent children ?

Isayama is even spelling it out for you this chapter.

Is he not worth it ? To stop all this ?

He was born into this world just like every other baby.

Look at that while everyone, is trying to jump off, their trying to save the baby. Even if it's probably impossible. That's humanity right there.

And... jesus christ...

I literally saw people who said that the mother was dumb to give it to the people because titans were behind them.

I can't even...

Imagine if Eren is the daddy of H's Baby and that he completes the genocide, killing his friends or even persuading them and at the end he is saying you are free to this baby.

So this baby is worth more than this baby ?

He is more legitimate to live than him.

I can't even imagine what the arguments would be like with the Eren stans:

"He's protecting his friends."

While literally challenging them to fight and right now trying to kill them.

"Well, you know the Rumbling is horrible but they got what was coming for them. They did nothing to help Paradise."

While forgetting the complexity of human nature, how banalization of these acts of violence have come to be BECAUSE...

These just like me and you are just simple people. With simple lives and not too much power who can't do anything about it.

Most of the people today sees all the suffering in the world, they just don't have the power, nor the will to go against such complex geo-political conflicts.

Would you be able to just resolve the Israelo-Palestinian conflict ? I don't think so, so shut your ass down with this argument.

These people can't change the world with power that they have and the one that has the power to change that, is killing them right now. BRAVO.

" Well, uh, the child is a child, parents might be racist and uh... child maybe is racist or will become racist..."

God...

Just because someone has done horrible shits or is an horrible shit doesn't mean he should die like this.

Here it is people, how we work as human :

Fuck redemption and possible solutions, let's kill everyone who did something bad.

Y'all would have been perfect during monarchies time.

And like... having an argument on a baby should face genocide is just fucking disgusting.

AND DON'T GIVE ME THE BULLCRAP OF FICTION DOESN'T EQUAL REALITY!

That you are interested into what could bring the Rumbling in terms of thematics and story is fine.

BUT ENDORSING IT ?

Do y'all even hear yourselves sometimes ?

You just sound like every racist, bigoted, fascist and violent person that has ever existed.

You're just excited to see someone die because he commited something wrong, sadistic pricks.

You're no different. Perhaps the guy who was talking to Grisha in chapter 97, who was a Marleyan and gave serums to Eldian is right. When he was talking to Grisha, Isayama use it to break the fourth wall and talk to the readers.

Why do we watch this, all this violence ?

" Because it's fun!"

" People take peace for granted!"

" Of course we're abnormal in society's eyes."

" We wish to exterminate all eldians!"

" Your sister did nothing wrong. Shame she was an Eldian!"

The fun fact is that this guy is a racist fuck but he dies pushed by Kruger and killed by his very own creation: a titan.

Why do people endorse genocide ?

" Because it's justice!"

" They got what was coming for them!"

" Isayama is just showing us that genocide is not really wrong if you just understand the concept of morals. Puritans."

" Humanity can die, they deserve it!"

" I'm sad for Ramzi, he didn't do nothing wrong but you know... maybe he didn't have good ideas about Eldians."

While also saying why children could deserve genocide. \____@-@____/

Of course I found most of these on Reddit and 4chan, the nazi propaganda website. Tumblr is a little free of it.

Babies....

Literally babies...

That remind me of somethin'...

OH YEAH!

QUEER NO MORE.

*put gloves on*

PUUUUUUUSSHH!!! COOOOOOOMMEEE OOONN!!!!

Breathe...

I SEEEEE THE HEAAADDD, IT'S HEREEEEEE!!!!

Natalie, bring the bucket, quick!

Of fuck she shitted on herself a little bit!

_________________________________________

So ?

Y'all like my fanfic ?

It's about how Erehisu is canon and how Historia is actually thinking about Eren right now because she is blushing.

But also about how Historia actually looks good and sexy while being pregnant and how she looks so happy!

She also is a lesbian that turned straight.

I'm so proud of my work.

_________________________________________

In all honesty...

This is... dissapointing and an insult to Historia fans. Why ? What is the purpose or the reason ? Being tragic ? To show how far Historia can go to protect her loved ones ? A female Eren so ?

I always leaned towards the fake pregnancy even if I don't know how something like that could be really pulled. I didn't understand this choice for his storytelling. The others I understand but this one...

O_o

What the fuck ?

So she really is pregnant ? But nothing leading up to it makes sense.

The character whose thematics still rings too much true for this arc is put in the background and as a breeding farm on top of that.

It even came to a point I started people to stop asking about her.

I had faith in her presence in the final arc. That she would have a role play.

But now ?

/\/\/\

For people who don't understand why this aspect of story is wrong, we have to break it down.

First off, Historia one of the first queer characters with Ymir in SNK. Others are suspected but these two are the few that holds a definitive representation as queer.

Most often in media or in real life, LGBT people have been forced into a situation that requires them to fall under heterosexuals lives. Here Historia is forced to be pregnant, yes in a way she agreed because of her people, but at the same time she didn't really want it.

For queer people, like me, this still rings true. Too much true. People literally forces you to go for your opposite sex everytime, to have a family.

No, stop forcing your view of your own life or desire of life on other people.

The fact that the fandom rationalizes that and says that she is happy and in love with Eren is just so fucking weird.

It either is blind ship following, heteronormativity or not understanding the story.

And I saw people saying she might be bisexual. This doesn't change anything. Also ignoring the fact that she hasn't shown any attraction to men other than women in the story.

If she is bisexual, it doesn't change anything, she is still queer. Not semi-straight AND EVEN IF SHE WAS A WOMAN WHO HAPPENED TO BE STRAIGHT, SHE IS STILL FORCED INTO SOMETHING SHE DID NOT WANT.

Bisexual is not semi-straight, semi-gay.

It's bisexual.

Bisexual, Straight and Homosexuality are not the same thing.

And if she was straight, that doesn't make it acceptable. It's just sick.

Just because you're a straight woman doesn't mean you are going to be more happy or have god like duty to have kids.

I just don't understand it...

A manga who was so progressive with his female characters reduces Historia to this.

Imagine...

Just imagine...

Eren is the father. I would shoot myself in the face. A forced straight relationship at the end for the pleasure of shonen readers and heteronormative readers.

" What if I have baby, Eren ?"

" Only if it is from me. I want him to live and have FREEDOM!"

" It's open bar, honey." *saying this after hearing the guy says he's going to genocide which goes against her own values and actions as queen*

Ew... Just ew...

And even worse she wasn't supposed to give birth right now, she was supposed to give birth in a few months.

She could DIE. SHE IS 19. This is dangerous.

Everyone is like this is normal.

THIS IS NOT NORMAL. *sigh*

This goes against what she is supposed to have as a character development.

The fact that she would be okay for genocide while as a queen she reached out to the most weak and in need is fucking incoherent.

No. This doesn't make sense. Even Eren said that Historia's action as a queen were to help others. How could she be okay sitting at her house ? Telling no one about what Eren was going to do ? And becoming a breeding farm ? What is the logic in that ?

Why make it suspicious than ?

The only thing that was able to make any logical sense to me was that the person we are seeing here isn't Historia.

I know if my theory is right, it's sick, even more sick.

The only times we saw Historia after the timeskip was during flashbacks, the reveal at 107 and possibly at the end of 123.

If this is her at the end of 123, I want to ask you why is she all prepared, why is she all dressed up and why is she wearing the same clothes in 134 that she is wearing 107. Something doesn't add up.

She is young, small-petite, blonde and her belly and face are hidden.

I was only able to go through the theory that this is a fake Historia. Than who it is than ?

Well, I searched for female characters who look like her or who could look like Historia right now. From all the characters that we haven't seen coming coming back and that has interacted with Historia, there is only one.

Rico Brzenska.

For those, who don't remember her : She was a Garrison Member who helped Mikasa and Eren during the Trost Arc and also helped Historia while she was exhausted during the Clash of the Titans Arc.

She hasn't appeared ever since the start of the Return to Shiganshina Arc unlike many of the older characters.

She is the only one I see who could pass as Historia I think.

I know this is still sick. But this is the only way I would be able to make Historia get out of this crappy storyline and play some relevance in the story. And if we look at Rico and Historia in 107, they kinda look the same. They have the heart shaped face, they are both small and they both have this sort of closed eyelids.

One line that just stuck with me of Rico was:

"Hiding/Lying about Eren's rampage in the report wouldn't have benefited humanity. "

This was during Eren's trial before joining the Survey Corps. What was discused was when Eren lost control of himself during the Trost Arc and attacked Mikasa.

The second line that struck was the one where she holds Historia who is exhausted in her arms:

"Wow! Who is this girl, is she okay ?"

I don't know why it just pushed that theory. And I kinda believe it now, because no one can make me believe that there is something satisfying coming out of this. Why would she sacrifice herself for Historia ? Well, I don't really know but Rico was always a little wary of Eren, even after the Trost Arc but yeah ultimately for Rico being able to give her own life for Historia. I don't know about that. But with this manga you never now. It is a very dark and twisted theory but this is the only logical thing I can see right now since no answers have been provided.

Monkey is BACK

Zeke is back and like most of us predicted, Eren dragged him with him. And I'm not gonna lie, the way he was attached to the spine was pretty badass.

He is used as a puppet which reinforces the theory for me that all three of them: Eren, Ymir and Zeke are being used by the Attack Titan.

I cannot understand Eren's illogical behavior especially after seeing the train scene where he says he wants them to live long happy lives and than having him kill his friends.

Ymir the first being free and having eyes to returning to having no eyes just like before and Eren.

And Zeke would have never agreed to the Rumbling. And we can't see his eyes either.

And...

Thank you, 104th for existing.

Because...

After how much shit they have gone through and after how much the fandom, not just the Eren stans, have mocked them. Like the fandom has been the biggest asshole to the the Alliance while they were the ones who were able to survive through the sentence " Genocide is wrong!" that so many people seems to find to be so hard to say.

I will root for them until the bitter end, I don't care. They are the one who are fighting. You can call Cringevengers all you want but I am glad they are winning.

They all suffered like Eren but they didn't prioritize their own and only feelings above everything else and they stood by for the values they fought for since they joined the Survey Corps. Even if I have to admit they have, for most of them, conflicted feelings with what they were doing and have done things like trying to talk to Eren while it's obvious he wasn't going to talk and that in a situation like this I don't think someone would try to stop Eren by just talking.

Levi, and it would be foolish to not recognize it, is being consumed by his promise but he is restraining it and still is able to think about the bigger picture.

There's one thing I really like about this is Armin asking Eren:

"Eren... I'll ask you one last time... "What part of you is free" after we rip you out from there... "

Hehe... yes... what part of you is free ?

To be honest, there's many things I don't want for the ending.

A Lelouch Ending, it was all Eren's plan. Literally wouldn't make sense. No one would be questionning his free will and he wouldn't have these weird shits happening to him.

A Code Geass ending, why would Mikasa have to kill Eren, what does that add to her as a character ? More tragedy ? No she doesn't have the scarf, it's pretty telling what place she's at right now.

Eren being the daddy. NO, JUST NO.

Everyone dies, genocide is the right thing. You know all the worst shit that can happen.

But most of all I want important plot points to be explored and moved over because ever since the timeskip, there has been no important plot points out the way. Eren's behavior, Ackertalk, Bertolttalk, Historia's Condition, Paths stuffs, answers!

Whatever... Trust me Peace is not something I take for granted. Being proud of myself and having a life with the least conflict and problem is something you fight for. Having rights, being recognized as a human.

Never lose that, fight for it. But never with injustice, be smarter and stronger. Cause at the end what unites us is not only what we have in common but what the perspective of what we have not in common can make a bigger picture of what we are as humans. We all are different and have a different story with similarities but in the end, we are human and born into this world. And in that, we must move forward. In the present, because of the past and for the future.

We all wish for the problems to go away but if it's for the solutions to be rigged with injustice, it will not work. No one has acheived with genocide and never will.

It's kinda sad that this long of a post has to say this. Did y'all see that ? Pretty inspiring what I wrote. Oh well you know what ? If they can be bigoted why can't I myself.

Here's a song I wrote:

(Fuck everyone and you.

We hate women

There are only 2 genders, the breeder and the breeded.

Everything is degenerate.

We hate brown, Arab and Muslim people.

Genocide is cool

And Hitler was too.)

I know but you know what, at least if they want a spy for Nazi Germany someday. They'll know not to give it to me because I'd laugh at the stupidity of the people just like you and I are doing with the rest of world cause for all the shits it gives us, it's entertaining.

youtube

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elderbwrry · 4 years ago

Text

Even if he doesn’t say so - Chapter 3/?

Kylo/Hux/Poe Witcher AU

Chapter summary: mini-waterfight, short scene continuation of these three wombling across the continent, (word count 1343)

Chapter 1, 2, and also on ao3

Kylo trudged back into camp and sat down heavily by the fire. He was angry, and he was sure his two companions could tell, judging by the way they had fallen to silently looking at him instead of chatting as they had been before. Eventually, Kylo couldn't take the staring. “What?” he demanded.

“You've... got a little something there,” Poe offered, pointing at him, first his hair and then his whole body.

“The fucking thing exploded!” he informed them loudly, and several birds took flight from the trees with a slap of wings that irritated Kylo all the more.

Sure, Kylo was glad to have the coin from the shepherds, and their sheep-snatching issue was solved, but did it have to spew foul smelling viscera all over him?

Hux was grimacing now. “It smells awful,” he complained, his tone allowing no argument, “go wash it off. There's a stream not too far west.”

Kylo groaned, leaned over to the side and lay down. He did want it off, but it seemed like such effort right at that moment – besides, he'd mostly gotten used to the smell, and he was tired. “I'll do it later.”

Kylo heard Hux stand up, and practically heard the vein in his forehead bulge as he ordered, “You'll do it now!” Crunching leaves as he approached, saying, “I don't want you stinking up camp.” The heel of a boot dug into Kylo's side, turning him over a bit and then retreating when he tried to grab it's owner.

“Go and hide in your fancy posh tent, then!”

“I imagine the stench would reach even there.”

“Prick.”

“Oaf.”

“Kylo,” Poe's mediating voice made Kylo bite back the unsavoury comment he was about to make about mages. “Go wash off. You'll feel better for it. And Hux? Stop being a shit.” And somehow, that stopped the argument.

The healthy distance Hux and Poe were keeping in order to avoid the smell meant that by the time the two of them had caught up to his pissed-off march to the river, Kylo had already stripped off and dunked himself underwater. There was still stuff caught in his hair, which he was trying to drag his fingers through.

“Hey, that looks painful,” Poe said, sounding genuinely concerned, and coming forward to sit at a rocky section at the side of the stream. “Come here, I'll sort it out for you.”

Kylo hesitated. For one thing, he was fully naked. Of course Poe had seen flashes of him naked before, but what with he and Hux fully clothed – the mage wandering around looking at the various plants around the banks and occasionally casting glances in their direction – it wasn't exactly a familiar situation.

In fact, thinking about the situation made Kylo hesitate, though he was unsure why; something told him that this ought to feel different, but the more he thought about it, it didn't feel different. They both knew him, and it felt... natural. So he went over and turned so Poe could easily reach.

Poe's fingers working over Kylo's scalp felt... heavenly. Kylo relaxed into it further and further. He tried not to think about how gentle Poe was being, but it was all that was in his mind. Poe, unlike so many others in Kylo's life, Hux included, never tried to hurt him, never treated him like everyone else where Poe came from. It had to mean something. He wanted to turn around and put his head on Poe's chest, sink into that gentle warmth and burrow into the delightful burr of his voice.

Poe lifted some water and worked it into Kylo's hair. It trickled down his back, and Poe's fingers gathered his hair by brushing it back over his ear. Kylo shivered. “You okay there?” Poe asked.

“Yeah,” Kylo cleared his throat, “it's just cold.”

Hux looked up from the stone he was turning over with his foot, meeting Kylo's eyes as if to call him out on the lie. Kylo wished he could know what Hux was thinking behind his calculating eyes and schooled expression, seeing the two of them like that, but Hux was often inscrutable to Kylo when it came to physical demonstrations of any kind of emotion, something which had caused plenty of trouble in the past. Although... provocation often worked.

“Gods, yeah, it's freezing,” Poe was saying, “you're almost done,” but Kylo wasn't listening, too busy gathering the strength to flick water at Hux. His arm shot out of the water, casting a splash that just missed the mage, who withdrew quickly, scandalised.

“How dareyou!” he snapped, approaching severely, but remaining on guard for further attacks as he looked down at Kylo, beginning a lecture on exactly how he would curse him if he did it again. Hux was so busy doing that, he didn't focus on Poe standing or walking round behind him - unfortunately, he couldn't fail to notice when the bard stuck out a hip and pushed him into the water.

The mage fell like a collection of overly fine fabric and swearing, splashing around in a fantastic approximation of a surprised cat. It wasn't that the stream was too deep for him to stand, he was just caught off guard, and Kylo took advantage of that by wading in and lifting him up, an arm around his back and under his knees. Bedraggled and annoyed, this was no doubt the most fearsome Hux could get without unleashing his magic on the subject of his discontent.

“You!” he exclaimed at Poe, trying to get his legs out from Kylo's hold, “I'll murder you, I'll-”

With that, Kylo dropped him. There was a moment more of spluttering, followed by a faint glow from under the water, and then Kylo found himself inundated again with a magical wave which the gentle flow of the stream never could have generated on its own. When Hux got his feet under him and saw Kylo still blinking water out of his eyes, he gave a snorting laugh.

There were two thuds from the bank of shed boots, and a warning shout from Poe as he jumped into the stream just behind Kylo, causing him to be inundated again. The whole thing degenerated into a splash fight, cold but happy.

When they finally trudged back to camp – Hux complaining perfunctorily the whole way about how his robes were “ruined” and would have to be fixed magically, Poe's hair slowly re-curling as it dried – it was the best Kylo had felt in a long time.

Kylo was building up the fire and finding a place to spread out his wet shirt when he noticed Poe looking through the slightly open flap of the tent, inside of which Hux was changing. It was only a moment, in which Poe had paused, run his hand through his hair once, and then seemed to decide he shouldn't be looking, heading off to find something in his pack.

As inconspicuously as possible, Kylo took up the place Poe had abandoned, making to hang up his clothes but glancing back inside the tent as he did. The light inside was a soft, dusky orange, courtesy of the canvas sides and the lantern Hux had lit. The mage was framed perfectly in the entrance, wearing a loose pair of pants and nothing else, his slim chest exposed. He looked soft, enticing, all smooth muscles accented by sharp shoulder bones, freckles smattering his shoulders. Kylo remembered poring over them in the winter evenings, when the two of them could take it slow. It cast a strange kind of nostalgia into his heart.

Hux turned and noticed Kylo before he could look away. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrow, to which Kylo shrugged. The reason they parted wasn't because of lack of attraction, after all, and it had been Hux who had engineered their reunion. Hux still understood Kylo better than possibly anyone else in the world.

A flick of Hux's wrist, and the tent flap lolled closed.

#darkgingerpilot #armitage hux #kylo ren #poe dameron #kylo/hux/poe #kylux #darkpilot #gingerpilot #my writing #fanfiction #witcher au #fantasy medieval au #star wars #even if he doesn't say so #late update! sorry but thanks for still reading if you are still reading #im aware this is Niche

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theladyofdeath · 5 years ago

Text

Wanderer {2}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction. Elain x Azriel. Modern AU.

Links:

Fanfic Masterlist Ask me

They stared at one another, the world going still around them. It was a bright and sunny day, the weather warm as Azriel stood in front of his car, his stuff loaded. He had come to pick up Elain, but she stood in her front yard, hands empty.

It seemed like hours had passed since she said the words.

But it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes - seconds, even.

“I don’t understand,” Azriel said, at last, completely caught off guard.

“I’m not going,” she repeated, begging her voice not to break.

“You’re not going,” he said, slowly, attempting to register the words. “What the fuck do you mean you’re not going? Elain, we’ve been planning this all year, and now you’re telling me...that you’re not going?”

“No,” she breathed. “I’m not.”

Azriel hesitated. “And why the fuck not?”

He never swore like this around her, never used such language, never had such anger in his voice. It broke her heart.

Everything about the situation broke her heart.

But her father was sick. He had told Elain the night before that they found cancer, that it was spreading, that it didn’t look good. Nesta was away at school in the north, and Feyre...she deserved better, had dreams of going to art school next year.

Elain had offered to stay, to help, to take care of him.

Even if it meant giving up her own plans of going to Adriata, to university, with Azriel. She loved him, of course, as much as she thought she could love someone.

But she loved her father, her family, too.

“If you’re staying, then so am I,” he said, with that stubborn crease between his brows.

“No,” Elain breathed, the word hardly coming out.

Azriel stilled. “Why?”

The word was hard, cold, and Elain knew that what she was about to say, what she had to say to make him leave, would be her ruin.

“I don’t want to be with you anymore,” she said, hardly more than a whisper. “I don’t want you here.”

Azriel said nothing. He watched her, jaw locked, as tears streamed down her face. Then, he let out a loud, humorless laugh. “Wow.”

“Just go,” she begged.

“I..” his words trailed off as he shook his head. “Damn it, Elain! Was this your plan, then? I was just some high school fling, someone to warm your bed until graduation came? Until summer ended? Huh?”

No, she wanted to scream, but instead she said, “Yes.”

“Okay,” he spat, raking his hands through his messy, dark hair. But then, the tension in his shoulders faded. “Elain, I fucking love you, okay? I love you, don’t do this, come with me. Come with me, yeah? Come with me, Elain.”

A sob broke loose, shaking her frail frame. “I...I can’t.”

His voice was quiet as he asked, “Don’t you love me?”

“No,” she said, having to force the word out. “I never loved you.”

That silence returned, nothing to be heard except for Elain’s soft sobs.

“Fuck you,” he breathed, and when she met his gaze, it was a whirlwind of shadows and pain. Broken. He was completely, utterly broken. “I should’ve known. Someone like you with someone like me?” He laughed, loudly, horridly. “What a fucking joke.”

She wanted to tell him how perfect he was, how much she adored him, but couldn’t, wouldn’t.

Instead, she said, with dry eyes, “Exactly. Goodbye, Azriel.”

She turned her back to him and walked away, back up to her house.

She forced herself not to look back.

Then, he left.

~~~~~

“Be good for Aunt Feyre and I’ll come get you in a little bit, okay?”

Amelia nodded, jumping into her mother’s arms for one last hug.

“We’re gonna go see Uncle Rhys at work,” Amelia said, excitedly.

“Is that so?” Elain asked, looking over at Feyre.

“We’re just going for a little ride on the water,” Feyre grinned. “And maybe get some ice cream.”

“Yes!” Amelia yelled, jumping in the air with her arms raised.

Rhysand owned a little boat shop on the docks. He took Amelia on one of the many boats from time to time, and she loved it. Mostly because ice cream was always involved. And for a six year old, ice cream was a staple.

“Alright,” Elain mumbled. “Well, eat dinner first.”

Feyre rolled her eyes as Amelia said, “Mooooom.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I suck the fun out of everything,” Elain laughed, walking to the door and turning the open sign around so that it read closed.

“That’s our que,” Feyre sang, taking Amelia’s hand. “Have fun. But not too much fun.”

Elain blushed furiously. “Yeah, okay, thanks.”

“Bye mama,” Amelia said, as she walked out of the door with Feyre.

“Bye, my love,” Elain said, eyes soft as she watched them walk away.

She assumed Azriel would be arriving soon so she had to finish closing up the shop before he did. It had been a slow day, both with customers and time. The time seemed to drag on and on, each second passing with a ridiculous amount of anxiety fluttering in the pit of Elain’s stomach. She had picked up her phone ten times throughout the day to text Feyre, asking for Azriel’s number so that she could cancel. But she didn’t, because if she did, she would just criticize herself for being a wimp.

She needed to talk things out with Azriel, as much as the thought terrified her. There had never been closure, and she needed closure, they both deserved as much. For the sake of their group of friends, they needed that closure. Now that he was back, Elain needed to be able to be around Azriel with no awkward tension.

Even so, by the time Elain had closed up her shop, she felt the need to vomit.

It didn’t help when she spotted Azriel, standing outside of her shop, leaning against the hood of his jeep, smoking a cigarette.

He spotted her watching him through the front glass and smiled, softly. She held up a finger, letting him know she would only be a second more. After hurrying to the back room, she grabbed her purse and looked into the long, distorted mirror on the wall.

Good enough.

After a few deep breaths, Elain was turning off the lights and exiting her shop. With her key, she turned the lock then spun around to face Azriel, who was watching her curiously.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hey,” he said, taking the cigarette from between his teeth. “Sorry,” he said, a small smile on his plump lips as he put out his cigarette. “I know you don’t like the smoke.”

She hadn’t, even when they were in high school. He was always sure to put it out the moment she came into view.

“Bad habit,” she said, eyes bright.

Azriel laughed, quietly. “True.”

“Ready?” she asked.

He nodded, and held out his arm, gesturing for her to lead the way. They walked down to the end of the block where the crosswalk was and went across the street to the little coffee house across from her shop. They both ordered before finding a little table near the corner window and sitting across from one another.

A thousand different small-talk questions raced through Elain’s mind, but none of them seemed good enough, so she was glad when Azriel began with, “I didn’t think you’d agree to come with me, I have to be honest.”

Elain stilled. “Why not?”

Azriel gave her a knowing look, but cleared his throat before he said, “Let’s not pretend like we don’t have a history.”

The words were not cruel, and his tone was light, but the words still made Elain’s chest ache.

But she nodded. “Fair enough. But that was so long ago. We were only kids, then.”

Azriel nodded, slowly. “True. A lot has happened since, it seems.”

“I would like to hear about it,” Elain said, propping her chin in her hands. “All that’s happened.”

Azriel’s grin widened, although his lips remained pressed together. Elain could count on one hand how many times through the years she had seen Azriel’s teeth when he smiled...all of those times being when they were alone. It was a rare thing, to see a full-fledged, teeth-bearing grin from Azriel.

She remembered it being the most beautiful of sights.

“Well,” he began, sheepishly, “I, uh, graduated, obviously. Found a job in journalism, fairly quickly, which surprised a shit ton of people - myself, included.” Elain chuckled as Azriel went on, “Other than that, I must say, I haven’t been all that exciting. Uh, lived in a nice apartment, near the beach in Adriata. Made a few friends, I guess. Dated a little, nothing that worked out. Mostly I just did a ton of writing. I actually just got my first book published, so...we will see.”

“I heard about that,” Elain said. “And that’s incredible, you deserve it. You’re a beautiful writer, always have been. I was waiting for it to be released so that I could be one of your first of many customers.”

She could remember the countless nights they laid together, tangled in the sheets, Azriel reading to her from his notebook of drabbles and poetry.

“I don’t know about many,” Azriel said, modestly. “But, hopefully some people out there will enjoy it.”

“It’ll be a hit,” Elain said, meeting his bright gaze, “I know it.”

Azriel cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. He had never been one for compliments. To his pleasure, a waitress came with a black coffee for Azriel, and a caramel mocha latte for Elain.

“Enough about me, though,” Azriel said, fiddling with the handle of his mug. “How about you?”

Elain had no idea where to begin. Her life the past few years had been a roller coaster. “Well, I’m sure you know I married Graysen,” Elain began, staring at the top of her coffee. “We got divorced two years later, but I can’t be too mad because he gave me Amelia, and she’s incredible.”

She decided to leave out the part where Graysen cheated, and that was why they had divorced in the first place. She also decided to leave out the part where he moved to the other side of the continent, not caring that it meant he wouldn’t be a part of his child’s life.

When Elain looked back up at Azriel, though, he was watching her with that same little smile. “I’ve seen pictures of her, your daughter. She’s beautiful. Looks just like you.”

Elain nodded, her smile widening. “Yeah, she’s a great kid.”

“And does she play?”

Elain couldn’t help but laugh. “No. But, I haven’t played since before she’s been born, either.”

She used to play piano, used to be good at it, too. But that had been long ago. “I see you finally got your shop,” Azriel said, then, gesturing across the street. “Looks like you’re doing good there.”

“Yeah, I haven’t been open for long, but it’s been going well,” she agreed.

“That was the dream,” he noted. “You always wanted to brighten the world with your flowers.”

Elain could feel herself blushing as she took a sip from her mug. “And you wanted to write. Looks like we both got what we wanted.”

“Yeah,” Azriel said, quietly, but his smile had faltered, his eyes remaining locked in hers. “I have a box of copies, of my book, if you want to read it. I mean, I’m technically not supposed to give them out yet, but I gave everyone else one.”

Elain huffed a laugh.

“No pressure,” Azriel followed, quickly. “I mean, I won’t be upset if-”

“I’d love to,” Elain said, smiling brightly. “Absolutely.”

“Great,” he said, and left it at that as he pressed his cooling coffee mug to his lips.

They only made short talk after that. She asked him about his years in Adriata, about the university and his favorite parts of the city. He asked more about Amelia, and Elain was happy to share all the little facts and details about her little beauty. They sat there until their coffee was gone, and then some, until the sky outside had turned dark.

After they decided they’d occupied the table at the coffee house long enough, they decided to take a walk along the Sidra.

They kept a healthy distance apart. Not too much distance, close enough to show everyone else that they were familiar with one another, but they didn’t stand so close that those who passed them thought they were too familiar with one another.

Even if Elain wondered what closing that distance would be like, after all those years.

“So he just left, huh?” Azriel said, hands shoved into his pockets as the breeze coming off the SIdra blew at his dark hair.

Elain nodded, arms crossed over her chest. “Yeah. Doesn’t call, doesn’t write. Likes a picture of her every now and then on social media and sends her a gift for her birthday, but...other than that, we haven’t seen or heard from him in three years. She’s okay with it though, you know? She was so young when he left that Millie doesn’t remember much of him.”

“It seems you two have a great relationship,” Azriel said.

“We do,” Elain agreed. “She does with my sisters, too.”

“I’m sure,” Azriel smiled, stopping to look out over the water. “Still, I’m sorry you had to go through that with Graysen. He’s a prick for leaving.”

Elain sucked on her bottom lip as she followed Azriel’s gaze, to the slow, flowing water of the river. Her smile was gone. “Look, Azriel, the way we left things…”

“You don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do,” she breathed, and turned to face him. “Azriel…”

“Please,” he said, and when he met her gaze, his eyes were full of shadows. “I left, that’s the end of it, let’s move on.”

“Move on?” she asked, incredulously. “Az, we’ve been moving on for nearly a decade. Don’t you think-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered.

“Well, I do!” she said, voice rising, then looked around to make sure she wasn’t causing a scene. In a quieter voice she said, “I do.”

Azriel’s jaw locked as he stared at her for a long moment. “Fine.”

“I just…” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry for that day.”

He watched her for a long time before he said, “I’m sorry about your dad. He was a good guy.”

He had died a year after Azriel had gone away.

“He needed me,” she breathed.

“I know,” Azriel said, plainly.

Elain looked down at her feet. “The things that I said though, Az...I didn’t mean them.”

He said nothing, and Elain didn’t want to meet his gaze. At last, he said, “We both said things we grew to regret.”

“I wanted to go with you-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel interrupted, then took a deep breath. “Not anymore.”

Elain nodded, and they fell into a tense, uncomfortable silence. There were a million things she wanted to say, had thought of what she would say to him for years if she got him alone, but none of them seemed to come out now, none except for I’m sorry.

“I should have told you the truth all those years ago,” Elain said.

“I found out later,” Azriel said.

“I know,” she breathed. “But...I thought that if I told you the truth, you wouldn’t go. If I told you that I had to stay to take care of my dad, I thought that you’d stay with me.”

“And that was such a bad thing?” Azriel asked, but there was no bite to his voice.

“I wanted nothing more,” Elain answered, honestly. “But you deserved to go the University of Adriata, Az, it was your dream school and I wasn’t going to stand in the way of that.”

“So you made me hate you, instead,” Azriel said.

The words hurt worse than Elain had expected them to. “Yes.”

Azriel nodded, slowly, watching her. “It didn’t work.”

“What didn’t?” she asked, quietly.

“I never hated you,” he whispered, eyes soft. “I could never hate you. I was pissed, but there was never any hatred.”

“Well, don’t worry, I hated myself enough for us both,” Elain said.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said, honestly. “All of it.”

Elain nodded, then looked back out over the Sidra. “Well, I, um, should be getting Millie. It’s getting late.”

Azriel didn’t even question it, he simply walked her back to her car and she drove away after a casual goodbye.

Eight years it had been since she had seen him, standing in her driveway, telling him he wasn’t good enough to be loved by her. The words still haunted her, but she couldn’t regret it. He had gone away, went to his dream school, is getting published.

She looked over in her passenger seat, where his book sat, the copy he’d gotten for her out of his Jeep.

Part of her couldn't wait to read it.

The other was terrified of what was inside.

The thoughts of the man she had told wasn’t good enough.

The title of the novel was, Somewhere in the Void.

~~~~

Tag list (to be tagged, comment or send an ask! - if you want to be removed, I won’t be offended, just let me know! - I am using a general tag list for all my multi-chapters from now on so i don’t get so confused lol):

@mariamuses @garnet-29 @writer-reader-traveller @rowaelin-cressworth @space-buns-arsinoe @negativenesta @empress-ofbloodshed @the-regal-warrior @starseternalnighttriumphant @westofmoon @sammyjojaaaa @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @carbconnoisseur @acer6437 @lorcansalvatearupmyheart @cool-ish-nerd @mynewdreamwasyou @mourning-razorlust @thespiritualrider @rowaelinforeverworld @didsomeonesayviolin @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @queen-of-glass @the-dark-swan @http-itsrebecca @holdingon-21@babycardan @tswaney17 @mollycateoc @chemicha @bat-wing-rhys @exersize-me-i-dare-u @thespiritualrider @luna-the-little @morebooks-pls @shyvioletcat @hermajestyanna @a97girl @stardustsroses @queenofthemoon22 @alifletcher2012 @awkward-avocado-s @faerie-queen-fireheart @cwheart @lovemollywho @emilyrose111294 @nerdperson524 @sleeping-and-books @cursebreaker29 @flora-and-fae @feyrethedarklady @the-dark-swan @rowaelinforeverworld @sjmsstuff @januarystears @mis-lil-red @acourtofmoonlight @rowaelinforeverworld @courtofmaasdestruction @jjellybean @thewayshedreamed @wind-drinker @aelin-rowan-whitehorn @starseternalnighttriumphant @hurema @http-itsrebecca @lorcansalvatearupmyheart @cityofchelsea16 @januarystears @iliketoasterstrudels @lightitup-bryce @yikesitsmaddie @feyrethedarklady @i-love-all-books @keshavomit @sleeping-and-books @scarznstars @http-itsrebecca @cat5313 @moondancer-204 @booklover242 @belamoonbeam @they-call-me-cuatro @b00kworm @mu-si-ca-l @thegayerpotato @abraxos-is-toothless @keshavomit @musicdreamer003 @superspiritfestival @sailorsassley @mymultiversee @alxanxah @viviaannvu123 @mysweetvillain @theghostlyharrypooperfan @highqueenofelfhame @shyvioletcat @courtofmaasdestruction @nikki1288-blog @tanaquilpriscilla @lovemollywho @maastrash @acourtofbookworms @miaforseck

#elriel #elain #azriel #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #modern au

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creativerogues · 5 years ago

Text

I’m Making a Player’s Guide!

Chapter 0: Welcome to the World!

History of the World: A brief history of the world’s events from the foundings of each country to the sealing away of the gods to the War Underground between the Elves of the West and the Drow of the Himmelblas...

Life on the Continent: A brief section on what it’s like to live in the world as it is today, still recovering from a war over half a century ago, and tensions ever rising in the east as new magics are being created and studied in the west...

Chapter 1-ish: Character Creation

An in-depth explanation of where in the world you might find each race and class from the PHB and other Source Books.

Introducing Gemstone Dragonborn as a new Subrace for Dragonborn, from MCDM’s Strongholds & Followers, as well as an explanation of how the Gemstone Dragonborn came to be in this world...

A List of potential Group Patrons that Adventurers could work for, from the Silver Charge Mercenary Company to the Archmages of Capitol to the State Azures of Zokend...

Chapter 2-ish: Gazetteer of the World!

Nations of the Continent: An explanation of each of Nation, from the high elves of Capitol and Western Carthisia to the small western isle of Mocrait, from the great and ever-spanning Himmelblas Mountains to the mysterious southern Wolfwood and the Shadow Empire that lies buried beneath the world’s surface...

Explore Western Carthisia, Mocrait, the Himmelblas Mountains, the Wolfwood, Valdor, Laumador, Zokend, Unter & Vuul!

Distant Lands: Learn of the forgotten continent of Harac, and the sand-blasted deserts of Rassumurait...

Chapter 3-ish: Faiths of the World...

An explanation of the Core Pantheon, as well as a list of the outlawed gods...

A list and explanations of the many famous cults of the world, from the Cult of the Blue Wyrm King to a strange group calling themselves Mephistopheles...

Learn of new gods and powers within the world, from the Haracan Pantheon to the vast Pantheon of Rassumurati Gods, Lesser Gods and Divine Servants...

Chapter 3-ish: Capitol!

Life in Capitol: A commoner’s perspective on life within the Capitol.

Baron Casmong: A explanation of Baron Casmong and his seemingly endless wealth after his success...

The Archmages of Capitol: A look into the Archmages of Capitol, who they are, and how exactly magic works within the Capitol’s walls...

The Royalty of Capitol: An explanation of the royal drama within Capitol and of how King Randor the Second wishes for nothing more than a successor better than his daughter...

The Edhel Halls: An explanation of the Edhel Halls Library of Excellence, a library famous for being the birthplace of many spells and many famous mages that still roam the history books of today...

The War College: An explanation of the Capitol’s War College and their working into new War Magics...

Important Locations in Capitol: From King’s Street to The Goose & Gander all the way to Bilgrim’s Menagerie of Scrolls and Miscellaneous..

Chapter 4-ish: Building Adventures...

Plot Hooks for every Nation: From the Dullahan of Bluemite to the Ancient Dragon that sleeps beneath the Blackhorn Volcano, from the forgotten Noble of Capitol to missing Archmages, run your own (mis)adventures in the world!

Heroes of the Past: A Section dedicated to the Legendary Heroes throughout History! Some still alive today! Such as the mighty Quindan of Carthis Randor, now hand to the new King, or Shadowdancer Yang Black, now master of his own monastery..

Chapter 5-ish: Homebrew!

A Whole Lot of New Spells!: All new homebrew spells to use in your campaign! From False Sending to Swift Reading to powerful new magics like Mass Haste and Psychic Clap.

A Whole Lot of New Magic Items!: All new homebrew magic items from Arrows of the Bull to the Amulet of Weave-Seeing to the Backstabber Blade and the all now-famous Potion of Dragon Control...

A Whole Lot of NPCs!: Stat Blocks for Silver Charge Mercenaries to Mages of the War College and the Edhel Halls to Haracan Mystics, Red Dagger Assassins and even the Ghost of a Fire Giant King!

A Whole Lot of Monsters!: From the Treasure Golem that guards the Royal Vault of King Unter, to the fearsome Purple Worm Matron that nests deep within the Himmelblas Mountain Range, find a whole bunch of new monsters to throw at your Players!

A Whole Lot of Backgrounds!: Maybe your Character was a member of the Silver Charge? Or perhaps a famed Red Dagger Assassin for the Emperor? With a bunch of new campaign-specific backgrounds, you can create some pretty awesome characters...

What other stuff is it gonna have?

A Pronunciation Guide: Because words are hard sometimes...

A Calendar: A Calendar noting specific Holy Days, Rituals and Celestial Events...

Important Teleportation Circles: Circles to the War College, the Edhel Halls Archives, the Library of Saturnity and more...

Reincarnation Table: A whole new Reincarnation Table that now includes Races from Volo’s Guide to Monsters and Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes!

A Wild Magic Surge Table: A Variant Wild Magic Surge Table to add even more chaos to your games!

Name Lists: A List of Male, Female and Gender-Neutral Names for People from each and every Region...

Is this Ambitious as hell? Aw, Yeah!

Which is why having the community help out when they can is so great! From creating People, Places, Homebrew Content and More!

So, if you’re interested in helping create some content, or just wanna flex your D&D knowledge, shoot a message to @creativerogues and let me know!

What’s been written so far?

A heck of a lot, that’s what!

With over 10 new homebrew spells, 10 new magic items, 8 new backgrounds and a bunch of new homebrew monsters, the homebrew section is looking good.

My personal favorite part of the Player’s Guide as it is right now are the Distant Lands of Harac and Rassumurait, and writing them has been a blast!

And a HUGE (like, waaay huge!) credit to @bxrtimaeus on Tumblr for all the knowledge and lore on ancient Egypt that’s really helped build Rassumurait as a desert kingdom, and for being my personal “English to Ancient Egyptian” Translator! XD

Overall, even though the Draft isn’t even an 1/8th of the way written, it already totals almost ~30 Pages of just my DM World-building Notes, with some notes from Friends and other people that are much better writers than me...

Oh yeah, and big note: I’M NOT AN ACTUAL PROFESSIONAL WRITER!

I’M DOING THIS FOR THE GIGGLES!

How can I help?

Over the course of the next few weeks and months, I’ll be posting little snippets from the Player’s Guide as it’s being written, from New Spells that need testing to New Monsters, Backgrounds and NPCs that I want you’re help making!

You can also just literally message me directly at @creativerogues and ask! Any help is gonna be appreciated!

When do you expect to get this finished?

I have no figgin’ clue! :D

#Players Guide #worldbuilding #homebrew #homebrew rules #Homebrew Monster #homebrew spells #homebrew race #community #communitymade

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octothorpetopus · 5 years ago

Text

Across The Universe (Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss)

Hotch would have chased Emily to the ends of the earth if he had to. So he did.

A/N: I’ll be honest, this is not in any way canon compliant, and I didn’t really have a specific timeline in mind as to when this is occurring. Thanks to @agenthotchner for the idea.

Hotch wasn’t sure at what point he decided to go. He had been thinking about it for months, to the point where he had planned it out to the last detail. But then there was the matter of Jack, who he owed a trip to his aunt’s house, and that he didn’t actually know where Emily was. Every time he thought about pulling out his phone and calling her, he thought better of it, for months and months and months. And then the one time he did, he found that the number no longer belonged to her.

Then he remembered the one person he knew who could find anyone on earth if she put her mind to it, so he called her.

“Garcia?”

“Sir Hotch? It’s been a minute.” Through the phone, it was like he could hear her smile, and he smiled too.

“It’s nice to hear from you, Penelope. Listen, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything for you. What’s up?” Hotch paused. Could he ask her to do this? Did he want to ask her to do this? And then he pictured Emily’s face, her broad, white smile, framed by pitch-black hair, her eyes that saw everything.

“I need you to find someone.” Garcia sighed.

“Hotch-“

“Please.”

“Hotch, I’ve looked for her, but she’s smart. She doesn’t want to be found.” Hotch nodded. He had expected as much.

“Thanks anyway, Garcia.”

“See you in a week for Christmas?” He chuckled.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Hotch?”

“What’s up?”

“I love you just a little bit.”

“I know, Penelope.” He hung up and fell backwards on the sofa in his empty apartment. Oh, well. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. In the meantime, while Jack was gone, he could get through the stuff he had to do at home. And he would start with the massive pile of junk mail that had collected on the kitchen counter.

Halfway through the stack of bills and catalogs, Hotch came across an unassuming cream-colored envelope. It was nicer, heavier paper than most mail, he noticed. And then he flipped it over and saw the scrawled, loopy handwriting he had struggled to decipher on a thousand reports, that had signed a half-dozen birthday and Christmas cards that he had received from twenty different countries. It was Emily, he saw her in her writing, in his own name and address. His hands shook as he opened the envelope and unfolded the heavy white paper.

Aaron, it read,

I haven’t heard from you in a while. Which is admittedly my fault. Anyway, I know you hate to get sappy, but I miss you. I miss everyone, but it seems like every day I see something and I think, “that would make Hotch smile”. I miss your smile, Hotch. I’m just writing to say merry Christmas, I guess, to you and Jack. I won’t be back for the holidays, so I find myself having plenty of time to write this letter (and more) in between glasses of wine alone on my fire escape. Give my love to everyone, and I’ll see you when I do. Hopefully soon, if you know me as well as I think you do. Much love from Stockholm, Emily.

Hotch read the letter, and re-read it, and then re-read it again.

“Am I reading into this?” He asked himself silently. But there was no one on earth he knew better than Emily, and there was no one who knew him better than her. He got up and practically ran to his home office. He pulled out the legal pad he had been so fond of writing notes out on in his attorney days. “If I know you as well as I think that I do.” “Much love from Stockholm.” It was a message if he had ever seen one, and he had seen dozens.

Hotch had his go bag out from under the bed and packed within five minutes. He grabbed his passport from the kitchen drawer, his car keys and wallet, and was out the door in ten. There weren’t many flights to Stockholm, but he found one, and ten hours later he stepped off the plane in Sweden. And that was when he promptly realized he didn’t know how to find Emily and he didn’t speak a word of Swedish. So he called the one person who could help him, once again.

“Garcia,” she answered, yawning. “Hotch, it’s two in the morning.”

“In Stockholm, it’s eight o’clock.”

“What does that have to do with anything? Wait, Hotch, are you in Sweden right now?”

“Yes, and as a matter of fact, so is Emily. Penelope, I need you to find her. Look for a driver’s license, employment records, whatever you can to find her address.”

“Fine. Give me twenty minutes. I’ll call you back.” She called back almost exactly twenty minutes later.

“So, Emily was working as a trauma counselor for a month or so, but her records end about a month and a half ago. I did manage to get a home address, though.” Hotch listened and scrawled down the address on his legal pad.

“Thanks, Garcia. Go back to bed.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll talk to you later. Preferably when the sun’s up.”

Hotch caught a cab to the address Penelope had given him, but when he talked to the landlord, he found-

“Sorry, she left almost two months ago,” the landlord said in strongly accented English. Hotch nodded and turned to leave, but the landlord cleared his throat. “Wait. You wouldn’t happen to be, ah, Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes, that’s me.” The landlord nodded and reached behind the building’s front desk. He pulled out an envelope, the same heavy cream-colored paper with messy blue ink across it.

“She left this for you.” Hotch took the letter and read it in the cab back to the airport.

Aaron,

I’m sorry I missed you. I don’t know if my letter got lost in the mail or if you let it get caught up in that awful stack of mail you always let pile up in your kitchen. Either way, I’ve found that it wasn’t just DC I couldn’t stay in. I can’t seem to stay anywhere for too long. But again, you know me too well, so you know what I’m doing. See you soon, Hotch. Much love from Manila, Emily.

Hotch folded the letter and slipped it into his breast pocket, right alongside the first one. So. The Philippines. Well, Hotch had saved well from early in his life, including his airline miles, and he had always wanted to travel the world. Besides, Jack was at his aunt’s for another week.

And the more Hotch thought about it, the more he realized he would do this forever if he had to. He wouldn’t leave Jack behind, of course, but if he had to keep chasing Emily through letters and airplanes, he would do it. There was a time when he would have denied that, and when he would have denied feeling anything for Emily other than friendship and perhaps a strong sense of family. But he felt that family bond with Penelope, with Dave, with Derek, with JJ, with Spencer. With Emily, there was something more. Something he hadn’t realized until too late. And then that something had taken over him, made him sick with love and the pain of not knowing how to find it. Before Emily, he hadn’t understood the term ‘lovesick’. But there was no other word to describe the feeling he felt now, that grew with every hour on the plane. He was closer now, he felt it. And he would find her.

One seventeen hour flight later, the flight touched down in the Philippines, and once again, Hotch called Penelope.

“Where are you now?” She asked without bothering to greet him.

“Manila. What time is it there?”

“Nine o’clock. A.M. You’re good. Twenty minutes?”

“Sounds good.”

Twenty minutes passed and this time, Hotch had to call Penelope.

“Garcia? What’s taking so long?”

“It seems like Emily didn’t work for whatever amount of time she was there. I’m looking into hotel records now, and... got it!”

An hour later, Hotch found Emily’s hotel, and just like Stockholm, found her gone, with another letter in her place.

Aaron,

We have to stop meeting like this. Or rather, not meeting like this. I’ve only been here for about a week, and I don’t think I’ll stay any longer. It’s fine here, a little too hot for my tastes. If you’re reading this, I’ll see you in the next spot. Much love from Athens, Emily.

“Damn it, Emily, can’t you just date your letters?” He muttered. “Back to the airport, then.” And to Greece it was. Another fifteen hour flight. Hotch’s legs were cramping and he hadn’t had a steady sleep in almost three days now. He didn’t know what time it was in Greece or in DC when he called Garcia, but she picked up anyway.

“Where?”

“Athens. Twenty minutes?”

“Twenty minutes. Love ya.”

As Hotch walked the crowded city streets of Athens, staring up at the Parthenon, he thought about how little he had seen. He never had a chance to travel the world, he realized. That was always more Emily’s speed. He loved this, seeing the world through her eyes. It was like being with her. He could almost hear her cracking jokes and reciting facts, probably in her best imitation of Reid, which wasn’t particularly good.

This time, Hotch found just what he expected. A letter. He had grown to like the letters. Not as much as he would’ve liked to find her, but he liked the way she smudged the ink as she wrote and made the lines a little too long when she crossed her Ts. He wasn’t Reid, he knew next to nothing about handwriting analysis, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know her from her writing.

Aaron,

I stayed three weeks this time. I hoped you would get here sooner. I would have loved to show you the Acropolis and the Parthenon and taken you to all the temples and museums. I highly recommend you take some time to check them out. Of course, depending on how far behind you are, maybe you don’t have time. I hope you find me, still. Please find me, Hotch. Much love from Mumbai, Emily.

“Emily, why do you have to move across the continent?” He asked it as if she could answer. The letters were something, but they weren’t her. He had to find her, the real her, not just these damn letters. And the next step on that trip was India.

“Hotch, so help me god, please tell me you’re getting closer,” Penelope said as soon as she picked up the phone.

“I think so. At least, I hope so. I’m in Mumbai. She’s only two weeks ahead of me now, so she can’t have gone far. Check hotel records.”

“On it.” This time, Hotch didn’t even bother hanging up the phone. He was content to listen to her type and him quietly to herself. “Hey, Hotch?”

“Yeah?”

“You really love Emily, huh?” He hesitated. Because he did, didn’t he? Why else would be crossing the world to find her?

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Good. I love you both and you’re perfect for each other. Find her, and see if you can’t bring her home, eh?”

“I’ll see what I can do. What do you have for me?”

“Well, I have her address where she stayed for the last two weeks.”

“So she’s still here.” Hotch let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, maybe. She checked out this morning.” Hotch got in a cab and told the driver to step on it.

“Damn it!” Hotch restrained the urge to punch a wall. She had left two hours ago, the hotel manager told him, and handed him another letter.

Aaron,

Damn it. I thought I left enough time. I hope you see me. I hope I see you before Christmas. Although I can’t blame you if you decide to give up and go back home. If you do, I’ll see you when I do. I’ll keep this letter short, and I’m not sure how many more I’ll write if you don’t catch up soon. But I hope you know I’m not trying to abandon you, and if you find me, I’ll be the happiest I’ve been in years. Also, tell Penelope thank you. I’m sure there’s no way you’ve found me without her. Much love from, well, where would I disappear to? You know me, Aaron. You know me too well.

At that moment, Hotch knew exactly where she was. Just one more twelve-hour flight away.

Hotch had always liked Paris. Emily has always liked Paris, actually, and Hotch liked Emily. The truth was that Hotch didn’t much care about where he was.

“Penelope-“

“Paris?”

“Yes, how did you-?”

“Please. I’m not a profiler, but I know Emily. Anyway, she hasn’t been here long enough for me to know where she is-“

“That’s fine. I know. I just called to tell you she says thank you. And so do I.”

“You’re my best friends. I’d do anything for you. Go get the girl, Hotch.”

“Thanks, Pen.” Hotch knew exactly where she was. She didn’t often talk about Paris, but when she did, she talked about the view she loved, when she could see the Eiffel Tower and the Seine from the same window. He bought a map from a newsstand and sat down to mark it off. A drizzling rain had begun to fall, but he hardly noticed. He didn’t have Reid’s geographical profiling skills, but he could mark off the area that could see both the river and the tower. Then all he had to do was find the apartment buildings in that area. As a matter of fact, there were only three. Only one had Emily, or rather one of her aliases, in their records.

It was late and pouring rain by the time Hotch arrived. He scanned the buzzer in the dim, foggy light of the street lamps. She would use her own name this time. She had no reason to hide. So he found the button next to the name Prentiss and relief washed over him as he pushed it. And it was at that moment that he realized he had no idea what to say. But he didn’t have time to think about it because the intercom buzzed.

“Qu'est-ce?” It was French, but it was her. Hotch had to hold in a half-gasp-half-sob. “Qu'est-ce?” She repeated.

“It’s Hotch.” There was a pause, and then-

“Hotch? Oh my god, Hotch?”

“It’s me, Em,” he replied, and he found that he was crying just a little bit. His tears mixed with the rain that had now drenched his face, and for that matter the rest of him.

“Hold on.” Something buzzed and the door unlocked. Hotch heaved his bag over his shoulder and sprinted up the stairs, disregarding the elevator entirely. He ran up ten flights of stairs and down to the end of the hall, panting and trailing water behind him. He pounded on her door, knowing he was being too loud and frankly not caring. As he began to knock again, the door swung open and his fist hit empty air, and behind that empty air there was Emily, staring up at him in slack-jawed silence. And Hotch still didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He just kissed her. His hands were on her face, her hands were on his back, and he was steadily dripping rainwater onto the hardwood floors.

“You round me,” she said at last as she broke the kiss.

“I’m one of the best FBI profilers in history. Did you think I wouldn’t?” He asked, still cupping her face in his hands.

“Not for a second. Although I got a little worried there in Athens for a minute.”

“Please. Also, I had Garcia track your employment and hotel records.”

“Hmm. Very smart.” She stepped aside to allow him in. Her apartment was filled with boxes. She had arrived mere hours before him.

“I was so close to getting you in India.”

“I know. But I’m glad it was here.” She took his hand and tugged him through the near-empty apartment.

“Emily? Where are we going?”

“Fire escape.” She crawled through the open window and helped him through. The rain soaked her down in less than a minute, but she didn’t seem to mind. From the fire escape, the Eiffel Tower was lit up in a golden spire, and the reflection danced across the Seine. He could see why she liked it so much.

“Hotch-“

“Emily-“ They both laughed, and it came unbearably easily, as if they had never been apart.

“You go first.”

“I need to tell you something. I need to tell you why I came across the world to find you.” He turned around so that his back was facing her. He didn’t think he could do this if he had to look into her eyes. “Emily Prentiss, I love you. And I didn’t realize it until you were gone. Which, I’ll admit, was stupid of me. It was stupid of me to ever let you go.

“Yeah, it really was.”

“Hey, can you-? Thanks. Anyway, like I was saying before I was so very rudely interrupted, I found you, and I’ll find you ten more times if I have to because this is a few times in a lifetime type of love. And not being with you makes me feel sick. And I came across the world to fine you.”

“You said that.”

“Well, I’m running out of things to say, so can you just kiss me and shut me up please?” Emily put a hand on his shoulder and leaned over his shoulder. He had to crane his neck, but she kissed him.

“I love you, Aaron Hotchner,” she said between kisses.

“Oh, thank god.” He looked down at her positively drenched clothes. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“So are you. Give me your bag, I’ll toss the stuff in the dryer, and you can hop in the shower.” Hotch stammered incoherently. “Please. I’m not proposing anything indecent. But you’ve been chasing me for almost four days. You need a shower.” Hotch shook his head, spraying water everywhere.

“In a minute. First, promise me you’ll have all your stuff unpacked by Christmas. You deserve Christmas.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Second... promise me you’ll let me stay for Christmas. So you’re not alone.” Emily’s bro’s furrowed.

“What about Jack and the others?”

“Hayley’s family would love to have Jack for Christmas, and he’ll survive without me for a few days.” Emily bit her lip.

“Or... what if I came home with you? What if I came back to DC and spent Christmas with you and Jack and the guys?” Hotch felt his eyes start to water again.

“You would do that? I thought you wanted to escape DC.”

“I do. Kind of. I wanted to escape because I thought there wasn’t anything for me there. But that was dumb. I have you. I have our friends. So I don’t know that I’ll be back right away, but I’ll come back for Christmas.”

Hotch threw his arms around Emily in an uncharacteristic burst of excitement. Then again, he couldn’t help it.

“Hey, Hotch?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. I never thought I’d have anyone who would cross the world to find me.”

“As long as you keep running, I’ll keep chasing.”

#hotchniss #criminal minds #emily prentiss #ssa emily prentiss #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #paget brewster #thomas gibson #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff

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gayregis · 4 years ago

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you might've already answered this but i adore all your takes on the show SO what did you think abt twn having the timeline all out of order? i didn't mind (even tho i read the books after) but i know it bothered a lot of people. thanks !

honestly, this is something that bothers me the most. it is on-par with the sincerely bad mischaracterizations of all of the characters and removal of the significant messages and themes of the short stories.

i feel that it’s insanely confusing for the majority of people when watching to have timeskips that are many many years apart without as much as a text card to say (20 years later). it’s good that you didn’t mind, but yeah i have heard from basically everyone, even people who loved the show, who say that the timeskips were the one thing that super confused them.

now, i watched the show having had read the books and legitimately dissecting any little thing as i watched. i went at this show with fucking tweezers and a scapel. i don’t get to say that i was confused by the timeskips, because during every single shot and scene, i was literally taking notes in a text document as to where the narrative was going and which scene was which from the books, where they were on the continent, what short story they were doing... although i was confused when things diverged so wholly from canon during the brokilon arc, i don’t get to say i was confused by the timeskip between the events of the lesser evil and the massacre of cintra, because i knew these stories already.

but as a viewer, i was confused as to why they felt that was necessary. there was no reason to add in timeskips. there was no great parallel being made. they didn’t connect the two stories at all besides renfri making a side comment about how she was jealous of calanthe, then-princess. there was no thematic parallel. it felt like a gimmick to keep people from being bored with the first story (which it was, because there was a lack of interesting dialogue and i got very bored with it).

and it gets worse when i try to think of what it would have been like if i had NO prior knowledge of the witcher, or even just knowledge from the witcher 3. i... would have had no idea where cintra geographically is. i wouldn’t know who vesemir is when geralt mentions him. i wouldn’t have the faintest fucking clue as to why the story is switching between this man and this girl, and i’d be trying to establish their connection with no luck. because there’s literally nothing by this point which tells you that ciri is his daughter.

i think it’s a fucking stupid gimmick that lauren hissrich did because she wanted to gain more viewers by being “progressive” and including female characters yennefer and ciri earlier in the story even when it makes everything all the more confusing to have them there. i think it was a really stupid move that isn’t justifiable in any way because it’s sincerely disorienting to the viewer and makes everything make no sense. in the books, the stories are laid out in a certain order with a certain framing story for a reason. ciri appears as a character when she does for a reason.

geralt finding ciri in brokilon was... such an incredibly significant moment and the fact that they didn’t introduce ciri in this way was really heartbreaking and sore to me. when geralt realizes that ciri is not just some random girl, but his daughter, that she is his child and she is not his destiny but something more... as ciri says to yennefer in blood of elves, you should have seen the look on his face. i wanted to see the look on new fans’ faces, on even my own face because it’s worth it to see a story retold. it was meant to be a surprise... she is the surprise child, as geralt says, she’s the biggest surprise he’s ever met. and the fact that geralt has to part with her, that he HAS to because otherwise he would bring danger to her, is incredibly painful. that was ciri’s introduction for a reason. the saga begins to follow her from that point on, that distinguishable point in brokilon. after this, the next story is something more, which revolves around many significant people in geralt’s life, but is focused on his desire to become ciri’s father for real. this point is very important because it’s a turning point for the series. it stops being about geralt, and begins to be about ciri.

similarly, yennefer is introduced as she is for a reason. in the last wish, she is not meant to be immediately likable. she antagonizes geralt and is actually kind of the antagonist of the story for a good part of it. the netflix series introduces her with her sad backstory, making the first emotion you feel towards her be pity and outrage at her treatment. yennefer in the book series was slowly developed, yennefer in the book series is carmelized onions. at first she is like raw onions, when you chop a raw onion your eyes might water, and raw onion is very strong and overwhelming taste that a majority of people find unpleasant (think of biting into a whole onion). but over time, when you put these chopped onions into the pan with olive oil and salt, they begin to get softer, sweeter. even when they’re not entirely browned yet, they’re palatable and delicious. yennefer in the bounds of reason shows sincere depth as she defies her trope and is sincerely emotionally hurt by geralt for leaving her without a word. she gets even more developed in a shard of ice, and her relationship with geralt is developed even when she is not present in a little sacrifice, and by the end of the sword of destiny, it makes sense as to why they are together as a couple. then in blood of elves as she becomes a mother to ciri and in time of contempt, baptism of fire, tower of the swallow, and lady of the lake, she is such an incredibly selfless and caring mother and you learn her backstory that she develops this incredible depth that you would never have thought she had the potential for in the last wish.

the timeskips are really detrimental to not only yennefer and ciri’s characters, but also geralt and dandelion’s. geralt is introduced in the specific order of stories for a reason. in the witcher, we learn what a witcher is. we learn what he was created to do, but also how he as an individual is incredibly different from many of the rest of his guild and how he has this inner depth and humanity that he has to keep hidden. i’ll admit that a grain of truth is skippable, but i appreciate how it also shows that geralt will go out of his way to help others even when there is no contract and no reward involved. in the lesser evil, we learn why he has committed himself to neutrality and how society views him as a witcher. this is very significant for how he interacts with others, especially ciri, as he does not want to pass this legacy down to her. in a question of price, we see him choosing the route of pacifism yet again and also are introduced to the concept of destiny linking him with ciri. then in the voice of reason 5 / the edge of the world, we learn more about his humanity as his relationship with dandelion is explored and we get to see geralt in a closer, more intimiate friendship light, not on the job or embroiled in a conflict. we also see him acting pacifist again and learn of his opinions on otherness, the otherness that he himself is classified as. in the last wish, we learn how human he really is, we see his real devotion to dandelion and then his choice to assist yennefer and his vulnerability with yennefer. of course it’s not meant to end there because it has yet to take down the trope of a happy ending that it ended with, but you can see geralt’s linear character progression in just this first collection of short stories. you understand him as a character and what his motivations and relationships to others are.

tl;dr: the timeskips in twn do more damage than everyone thinks; they’re not just annoying and super confusing for new fans, but they are a major enabler of poor character development and bastardization of the books they were meant to be an “adaptation” of

#the witcher netflix #thank u for this ask bc i never talked abt this before i think #geralt #ciri #yennefer #dandeliyn

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mobius-prime · 4 years ago

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260. Sonic the Hedgehog #191

Metal and Mettle (Part 1)

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Josh Ray

A few days after Scourge and the Suppression Squad have taken control of Freedom HQ, Miles alerts Scourge to an interesting and unexpected visitor - namely, Metal Sonic, through whom Eggman is speaking and watching.

Yeah, don't underestimate a fellow evildoer, Scourge. Meanwhile in New Mobotropolis, Sonic and Knuckles stand before the Council of Acorn to try to get permission to take the base back. Unfortunately for them, the council votes four to two to leave it for the time being, as they don't see Scourge as that big of a threat, and want to focus on taking New Megaopolis from Eggman before going after smaller holdings. Sonic, of course, does not take this well, and tries to talk to Knuckles about it once they exit the building.

Oh, Knuckles. You have to stop angsting about this, my dude. Sonic leaves the city on his own, musing as he races back to Freedom HQ about how despite their recent successes in battle, and many gains against Eggman and his forces, he can't help a strange feeling that overall they're losing ground. He hopes that kicking Scourge out of the base will cheer him up, but is brought up short by the sight of Scourge and Metal Sonic battling it out on the grass outside. Miles stands nearby watching, and not-so-subtly tests Scourge's leadership by asking if he wants help against Metal, as surely the others helping him would only be an insult since he conquered his planet on his own. Sonic, uninterested in any of the politics, merely barrels in to help, offering Scourge a truce to take Metal out, but Scourge angrily refuses, and both he and Metal turn on Sonic to attack. Meanwhile, Julie-Su finds Knuckles brooding on a bench in the park, and when she presses to know what's bothering him he snaps, yelling that he can't trust himself or anyone else, as no matter what he does, someone always ends up hurt, and he can't bear to face the few remaining members of his family. Julie-Su reaches for him, looking at first like she's going to comfort him, but then…

I mean, all things considered, Julie-Su, you make a fantastic point. Your family's loss has been largely glossed over until now - I don't think she was even given a single panel before now to mourn the deaths of her foster parents, despite how delighted she was to rediscover them before - and as you point out, it's not like Knuckles is suffering alone. Back at Freedom HQ, the fight continues, with Eggman telling Metal to hang in there as he's putting the "finishing touches" on some backup. Sonic and Scourge briefly wind up fighting each other without Metal's interference, during which Sonic criticizes Scourge for taking his advice to better himself to a brutal, negative extreme. Scourge merely mocks Sonic's restraint, pointing out how much more powerful he is as a king than as a hero.

Ooh, dramatic parallels to their prior talk! I love it! Metal interrupts before Sonic can respond, and as the fight continues once more we move this time to Angel Island, where Knuckles is having a talk with Archimedes while Charmy sits nearby.

So something that needs to be pointed out is that inexplicably, this is Archimedes' last appearance in the comic, ever. Unlike all the other characters who have disappeared from the comic, there's no reason given - no genocide, no dimensional portal to swallow him up, no deaths or sudden decisions to leave and find himself on another continent, nothing. He just… never shows up again. It's disappointing, as y'all know how much I like Archimedes, but again I really do think this stems from Ian's weird, irritating habit of erasing a lot of Kenders' contributions to this world. I know that he's trying to make the comic's world more like the games, and that in the games, Knuckles is the last echidna and isn't embroiled in all these politics, but dammit, there's nothing wrong with comic Knuckles being so different from game Knuckles! Personality-wise, he's still similar, still recognizable, it's just his circumstances that are different. Then again, maybe I shouldn't be blaming Ian for all of this - for all I know, Sega themselves ordered him to get rid of all of this stuff. I dunno, man, I'm just some random fan with a blog. Speaking of controversial decisions by Ian, though, it's nice to see him doing his best to treat Charmy's brain damage with respect here. He certainly acts more childlike than he once did, but he's doing his best, and isn't a punchline, still actively participating in missions and helping Knuckles sort his own problems out.

Anyway, Knuckles, encouraged by his mentor's words, uses his warp ring to head back to the city, where he and Julie-Su give a curt apology to each other with an agreement to sort things out more fully later, when he's had more time to work through his emotional distress. They consider heading to Freedom HQ to help Sonic, but Knuckles believes that Sonic can most likely handle the situation on his own. Of course, we know better - Sonic might be able to take on Scourge or Metal individually, but both at once is a real challenge. He kicks Metal aside, only to be startled by the sight of another robot coming to join the fray - a robot that looks exactly like Scourge. Wow, Eggman, you really didn't waste any time on that one, huh? How many Metal Sonics do you think he has lying around in his base just ready for a paint job and a new assignment?

Though there's another story in this issue, we won't be covering it. Why? Well, it's the first real installment of "In Another Time, In Another Place"! I've mentioned it before, but it's basically what Ian decided to do when it was clear he couldn't keep putting in half-adaptions of random games anymore, but still needed to do tie-ins for newly-released games. With the pattern we've been taking with these tie-ins lately, you'd think this one would be for Sonic '06, but nope! For whatever reason, Sonic '06 goes completely unacknowledged within the comic verse (at least for now), with the sole exception of Shadow joining up with GUN. However, as I've mentioned before, Ian did state somewhere along the way that Sonic '06 did in fact happen somewhere during the course of the comic's plotline - it's just that due to the very nature of the game's story, the events of the plot are entirely reset and erased from the timeline at the end, meaning an adaption doesn't even have to take place, as technically, even though those events did happen, they also… didn't.

But all that aside, the tie-in in today's issue is actually for the little-remembered DS title, Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood, which was an RPG developed by Bioware of all companies (and yes, they did include one of their trademark Bioware romance sidequests, though it's probably of little interest to anyone who doesn't ship Sonamy). While again, we're not covering it due to it being non-canon, it's an important thing to note regardless. For one, these In Another Time, In Another Place installments became pretty commonplace throughout the comic as new games were released, but perhaps more importantly, this was the game that apparently really got under Kenders' skin. The problem is that after all he'd done to develop the world of the echidnas and all the political and military factions thereof, this game's plot ended up heavily centering around a band of echidnas in dark armor emerging from a parallel dimension where time moves more slowly, with an intent to take the Master Emerald and use it to cement their place of power in the real world once more, though one female echidna realizes the error of her people's ways and abandons her army to side with Knuckles against her megalomaniacal and powerful male leader. Gee, sound familiar? While I don't believe that Bioware or Sega actually copied Kenders' ideas outright - the way I've described it makes it sound similar, but there's a ton of differences in the plot and presentation that definitely indicate they're two different ideas by different people - Kenders certainly seems to think it's a rip-off, and this was from what I understand at the core of all his problems with Sega that led to his eventual lawsuit that forced the reboot of the comic. It sucks, too, because even aside from losing all the years of history in the preboot, the plot of Sonic Chronicles was actually quite fascinating and it ended on a cliffhanger, which will never, ever be resolved because Sega doesn't even want to touch that can of worms after everything that happened. I think the game has actually been quietly stricken from canon, too, because the cliffhanger literally involved Eggman having taken over the world while everyone was away, and there's just no way to solve something like that offscreen. Just a bad time all around, folks. As they say in the fandom - thanks, Ken Penders. Still, though, we have quite a ways to go before we hit the preboot's end, so let's forget about the negative stuff and keep trucking on.

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 191 #writer: ian flynn #pencils: tracy yardley #colors: joshua d ray

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lizzibennet · 4 years ago

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1/2: Genuine question: do u have advice for USAmericans on empathy w/o condescension? ik you reblogged a post about how Americans only ever seem to care about THEIR issues/POV. But at the same time, ik you talked about your frustration with Americans acting as though other countries are the only ones with issues, or going "it must be hard to deal with X" as though we're above it. A lot of the time, I wanna be sympathetic to a friend, but I DON'T want to come off like I'm implying that I'm better

(2/2) bc i often worry that if i clarify stuff and go "oh and idk if you know, but [american thing] is...." or "oh, are you familiar with [american thing]?" that it's patronizing? i don't want to necessarily treat friends from other countries like i expect them to know less, but ofc, i don't also want to be so american-centric that i assume everyone always knows what i mean. and likewise, i want to be sympathetic if i see a friend's country in the news, but NOT come off as patronizing by asking

this is a delicate question simply bc i’m sure most of the time you don’t even realize what you’re doing or why you come off as patronizing so i’m going to try my best to explain why it comes across aas such and from there it might be easier for you to consider what u say. so the “it must be hard to deal with X” is condescending when it’s not directed at a person necessarily, it’s not an expression of empathy but an assertion about a fault that the us has too. it’s the insistence on pointing the finger at a “lesser” country for having this fault that is apparently so grave but the reluctance to accept that your country has that exact same issue that is bothersome, almost as if it’s only an issue when it’s convenient to make another culture seem worse than it is. like one that happened very recently to me was in a group of us friends in which i’m the only brazilian (really, i’m the only one of two out of like 20 who doesn’t live in the usa) they were like “yeah brazil is dealing with shit with a fascist leader” in a conversation i wasn’t online for and when i saw it later i was like. so you think your leader isn’t a fascist, huh, but mine is. to be clear- it’s not that i’m uncomfortable that he’s being referred to as a fascist, he is one, it’s that that word is never used towards trump in that group, even though my friends are WokeTM and definitely anti-trump. even then, they are reluctant to concede that their country is also a shithole in many senses that mine is, too. imagine that- a brazilian comparing their country to the us! the sacrilege! it’s that feeling i get. there was this time when we were talking about something politics related and i said something about trump and one of these friends was like “well it’s not like you can say much with bolsonaro in power” and it’s like. that’s not untrue but why bring bolsonaro in the picture? so i can’t discuss politics because my president sucks? that gives me more reason to be engaged in it, not less. why are you incapable of admitting fault in the us? and that is because even the Wokest of americans has it ingrained in their brain that the us is the greatest country in the world. so i’d suggest you monitor that reaction- when someone shit talks your country, is your first reaction to deny? to deflect? this is what i’m talking about:

so “non americans” (south americans, central americans, mexicans and canadians are still americans, so following this line of thot we can still tell you shit about america because we do, in fact, live in it but whatever) can’t tell you your country is horrible, even though it IS. why? we’re told that our country is shit, that our culture is wrong, that our beauty actually isn’t beauty, that our traditions are weird from the moment we’re born. why can’t you bear to hear that hey, your government is corrupt and horrible and your institutions treat people like shit? that’s not even specific to the us, that’s capitalism 101. why does it bother you that a “non american” points that out? because deep down you only think a “better” country could be critical, and deep down you still believe the us is the greatest country in the world. this person would never admit that they think this because they have a colonialist mindset that is, by default, racist as all hell, but that is in fact why “non americans” especifically telling them shit bothers them. they’re speaking about perceived injustice without realizing the place of privilege they’re in. this person above is like “if what the us is doing is directly affecting your country by all means speak up” as if the only countries affected by the us are the ones with troops stationed, as though that’d shut up the rest of us, showing they actually know shit about their own history and how it affects others’. i’m using this example because look at the retweets! people agree with this because they’re not aware and they live in comfortable ignorance, and it’s this ignorance you will have to go against- it will NOT be comfortable to you and you’ll wish you could be like “hey i suffer too” which isn’t the point, you know, the point is that your privilege actively hurts other people and to act like it’s an independent entity from how you interact with other people is disingenuous

to go “oh idk if you know this but” is definitely patronizing bc like a person from a “third world” country who is even minimally well informed knows, i assure you. if you would expect a local friend to know, chances are that if it’s a country-wide issue we will know, too. we probably won’t know about the particularities of your town’s mayor, but we will know about the bill that was passed that affected your state and about the protests in your city because we watch the news too, and world wide news is about fifty-fifty local news and international news (which, to you, “international” news would just be your local news). “are you familiar with x” is fine to ask imo but one thing that is also bothersome is the assumption that someone who lives in the same continent as you has such a different life that we won’t know idk like how a private post office works or something. even countries that are VERY dissimilar culture-wise are more similar than people think and, say, a south american country and the us are really not as dissimilar as us people seem to think. like recently i saw a youtuber comment on this case of a child singer who was very sexualized, and he was like “idk if that’s common in brazil but that’s not okay” and it’s like. WHAT do you think is common in brazil??? pedophilia?????? children shaking their ass isn’t okay anywhere, why the fuck would you assume culturally we’re so far away from you, of COURSE it is more common than it should be but do you really think there aren’t kids twerking in your country, do you genuinely think people here are inherently more sexual than people there just because, i- UGH headache emoji. that’s not to say each hasn’t its particularities but i guess what i’m trying to say is that the exotification of an entire country is bothersome. if you act like i, a privileged middle class white girl from brazil am a savage and ignorant and uncultured just because i don’t live in the us, even though my life in many aspects is quite similar to yours, then it PAINS me to think of what you’d think of even more different people, like my gran who was born in the middle of the amazon- if you think ill of me (even if unconsciously) then what will you think of her and her people, you know? even without much context my friends from the us get what i say when i speak about things that differ in our lives as middle class 20 year olds from different countries, because again it’s not so dissimilar, and if they don’t get it, they ask. from the get go i assume that they’re intelligent enough to fill in the blanks, so i don’t like being assumed less than capable of following a conversation just because i don’t have every minute detail, and in general, i feel like the entire population of my country is often assumed less than capable. when we encounter someone from outside who hasn’t a lot of context of how things go here, that is simply it - they’re a person without countext and we will help them understand it - but when it’s us who lack the context there is a clear implication that we do because we’re stupid and we should learn on the spot because we should know already anyway. you’re not being too american centric when you assume your friends are at least partially well informed, you’re being realistic tbh lol to assume we’re any less is to assume we’re less intelligent than you. expecting people to know is bad but assuming people won’t know worldwide huge topics that any person with an internet connection would is also not great

genuinely i think if you see a friend’s country in the news and want to ask if they’re okay and their opinion on it i don’t see any occasion in which you’d be condescending unless you tried really hard to be LOL like i think your friends will generally just be happy you thought of them. checking up on them is actually the kind of behavior we don’t expect from a self-centered usa person so i just think they will appreciate your concern. just don’t be like “oh sweet summer child cinnamon pie baby angle :-( poor u on a shithole country,,,,,,,” nor “wow must be hard dealing with [basic problem every other country also goes thru, including urs]. pooooooor thing who doesn’t have access to civilization :-((((((((((((((”

i’m sorry i’m so snarky in this sometimes but it’s because it couldn’t be more simple: if you think of the issue and consider it in a worldwide context, don’t speak about it as though your experience is law, don’t forget that other countries have other political contexts, and yet, don’t forget that normal people just like you live in those settings. literally just remember there’s seven billion people on this planet and b like oh shit, am i being ethnocentric rn,,,, it should be pretty clear tbh it’s not rocket science.

#Anonymous #what is my ask tag again

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