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mrmrswales · 4 years ago

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Exclusive: the ‘profoundly powerful’ moments that shaped Duchess of Cambridge’s children’s charity work by Camilla Tominey

It all started with secret visits the public never got to see. Newly married, and with the world’s press chronicling her every move – down to the details of her designer dresses – the Duchess of Cambridge resolved to go "below radar".

Acting as Prince William’s "plus one", rather than a fully fledged solo royal in those early days, the newest addition to the Royal family knew that she wanted to find a cause she could champion as impactfully as Diana, the Princess of Wales’s landmine campaign; it was simply a question of where to find it.

Having already announced her first patronage of Action on Addiction, a charity working with people with drug and alcohol problems, Hope House, a women-only rehabilitation centre in Clapham, south London, seemed as good a place as any to start.

It was October 2011 when the then 29-year-old Duchess paid the first of several, incognito visits in a bid to find out what had sent its clients on a downward spiral of self-destruction.

According to Rebecca Priestley, who accompanied the Duchess on the visit and would go on to spend five years as her private secretary, it played a pivotal role in her decision to put childhood at the heart of her philanthropic endeavours.

Speaking on the record for the first time, Mrs Priestley, who is now an executive coach, recalled: "I remember going up to Anglesey, where they were living after the wedding, to have a conversation with the Duchess about her royal life."

At that point, she had the philanthropic world at her feet. She could have done anything she wanted in the charitable arena. Typically, she had put a lot of thought into it already. Addiction was an issue she was instinctively thinking about – but she was also genuinely interested in understanding what support was there and what role that played in the bigger picture of mainstream societal issues."

With the Duke having flown to the Falklands for a six–week tour of duty with his RAF search and rescue squadron, Mrs Priestley put a programme together to support the Duchess’s desire to "listen and learn"."A lot of it was behind the scenes, just talking to people and hearing where it was that they needed more help. The one thing that united all of the women at Hope House was that the derailing had started so early on. They could trace the problems in their adult lives back to childhood."

A subsequent private visit in February 2012 to Clouds House, a treatment centre in East Knoyle in Wiltshire, served as further confirmation that the early years should be a key area of focus. But it was during a later meeting with female inmates at a detox unit at Send Prison in Woking when the penny well and truly dropped.

"It was a profoundly powerful moment,” recalled Mrs Priestley. "You go in there with this preconceived idea that these women have done things wrong, that it was their fault. Then one woman started speaking to the Duchess about her earliest memories of seeing needles on the floor of her home."

She had always thought addiction was a misunderstood issue, but after this, she became concerned that there was a pre-destiny about those affected – an inevitability about it. These women were born into it and there was very little chance of escape."

The experience set in train a sequence of events that will next week culminate in the Duchess, 39, stepping up her ambition in driving awareness and action on the impact that early childhood can have on society at large.

She will launch a new initiative through the couple’s Royal Foundation to further explore the science around early childhood, raise awareness of the issue and foster collaboration and partnerships across relevant groups.

According to Lord Hague, who became chairman of the Royal Foundation last September, the "ambitious" new project will be equal in stature to William’s £50 million Earthshot Prize, launched last year with Sir David Attenborough to find workable solutions to climate change and environmental problems.

"The Duchess truly believes this is one of the great issues of our time," said the former Tory leader. "This is the central plank of her work in the way conservation issues are for the Duke. It’s a hugely significant moment."

While politicians are often in a rush to make a difference during the comparatively short time they have in office, royals are there for life, which perhaps explains why Kate has taken 10 years to get to this point.Having been instrumental in launching the Heads Together campaign with William and Prince Harry in 2016, designed at tackling the stigma and changing the conversation on mental health, it was not until 2018 that she convened a steering group of experts to look at how cross-sector collaboration could bring about lasting change.

In January, she delivered a landmark speech after her Five Big Questions on the Under Fives survey garnered over 500,000 responses.

"People often ask why I care so passionately about the early years," the mother-of-three said.

"Many mistakenly believe that my interest stems from having children of my own. While of course I care hugely about their start in life, this ultimately sells the issue short. If we only expect people to take an interest in the early years when they have children, we are not only too late for them, we are underestimating the huge role others can play in shaping our most formative years, too."

Pointing out that the social cost of late intervention has been estimated to be over £17 billion a year, she added: "The early years are therefore not simply just about how we raise our children. They are in fact about how we raise the next generation of adults. They are about the society we will become."

According to Eamon McCrory, Professor of Developmental Neuroscience and Psychopathology at University College London, the Duchess "has a vision of how she can help transform how we as a society view and invest in the early years for the benefit of society".

Describing her interest in "the role the brain shapes our early experiences and how that sets us on a path to adult life", he explained: "When you look at very young babies and infants, on the surface they don’t appear to be engaging in complex emotions so there's a tendency to underestimate the millions of synapses that are being formed every minute. But science is telling us we have to look under the bonnet.

"There’s no question that for the Duchess, this is a lifetime piece of work. The last five years laid the foundations, now we are entering a more proactive phase.” Described by one source as “thoughtful, professional and determined to do a good job,” there is a sense that Kate has never been in it for the early wins, but the long haul.

As one well-placed insider put it: "She took the job very seriously right from the very beginning. She continues to want to get it right and do her very best - for the institution, for William and the importance of the work she’s doing.

"She doesn't just want to rock up for a picture opportunity, which is why she used to get quite frustrated with all the early focus on what she was wearing. She really cares about this stuff."

Another source said she was "much more fun" than people give her credit for, pointing out how she has grown in confidence having found a cause that she is not only passionate about - but also well informed.

As Lord Hague put it: "She’s been reading the books and had trustees reading the books. People assume her interest in the early years is because she has children – actually it comes from all the adults she’s met." The other key influence has been Kate’s own idyllic childhood.

Brought up in leafy Bucklebury in West Berkshire by her entrepreneur parents Michael and Carole Middleton, pictured below with the royal family, the Duchess has never made any secret of how fortunate she has been to be brought up in a loving and supportive family.

"She always recognised that she benefited from such a great start in life," added Mrs Priestley.

"That’s why sport and the outdoors has always been a key theme for her. She was always asking how those sorts of experiences could be made accessible to others."

For Dame Benny Refson, president of the children’s mental health charity Place2Be, where the Duchess has been patron since 2013, Kate’s grounded upbringing has proved an asset.

“The Duchess listens and people feel heard and valued. It’s nothing to do with privilege. The groups she meets in challenging areas in London don't look at what she's wearing. What makes a difference is that an important person has shown a genuine interest in them. She can relate without passing judgement, which is so important."

Having started out as a reticent public speaker, the Duchess has finally found her voice – and next week she will have a lot more to say.

#duchess of cambridge

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lavynrose · 4 years ago

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Artem and his S/O confessing at the same time pt. 2

Title: Dedicated

Pairing/s: Artem Wing X Reader

Pronouns: Gender Neutral

Genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Warning/s: grammatical errors

Notes: ok so!!! thank you so much for waiting <3 one thing i'd like to say is that i recommend reading part 1 before this bc it creates a build-up for the story's conclusion. There are some parts here that needed context from part 1. Enjoy!

part 1 here

He couldn't ask for more.

The sunset spilled all around the theme park, the golden intricates of the the railings sparkled than ever before. The orange radiance of the solemn sun gives the park an even more golden glow.

Artem looked around, taking in the seemingly perfect view of what can be only described as serene. The laughter of groups of friends, families walking hand-in-hand, couples giving their significant other loving looks, people enjoying themselves left and right, the quaint smell of hotdogs and popcorn.

You spending your time with him.

The sunset made this picturesque scenery even more breathtaking, and he could come here everyday if only allowed.

Right now, right in this very moment, everything is glowing.

Especially you.

"That was really fun!" the enthusiasm in your voice never fails to make him feel the same. He loves seeing you have fun, without a care in the world. He admits, he also enjoyed getting splashed by water on the raft ride.

He unconsciously offered his arm to link with yours and when you took it as you gazed at him, he's more than satisfied.

You fit so perfectly in his arms, it feels as if you're the missing puzzle piece he never knew his being had. Even having dried after getting soaked from the raft, the warmth that your touch radiated fills his senses with comfort.

This moment of getting to spend time with the person he profoundly longed for was enough for him. Enough for now. You don't need to know his affections for now.

Does he really need to let you know?

His feelings?

It'll probably make your relationship awkward. He's not ready to risk the sweet smiles and playful looks you direct towards him just for his own selfishness.

It doesn't matter. He'll love you even if you won't, anyway.

He then stopped in his tracks, you followed suit. Not caring about the people around you. Lost in the little world the two of you shared. He looked down at your form, "Yes it was. I enjoyed it very much." because you're with me, he wanted to add but instead of saying those words, an amiable look in his cerulean eyes twinkled, and an adoring smile latched upon his features instead.

Almost as if he's telling you an unspoken confession.

His expression however, turned into mild surprise when he noticed how your gaze was filled with enchantment. With a soft glint in your lidded eyes, your brows are knitted together. You were silent.

It baffled him.

Why.

'Why are you looking at me like that?' Artem wanted to blurt out. His mouth opened to say something.

It was unclear to him as to why you looked like you were staring at his very soul.

'Why are you looking at me like,' he can't help but ask himself as he continued to scrutinize your tranced gaze, 'like you want to say the same words I desperately wanted to tell you?'

Are his feelings reciprocated?

You blinked and suddenly looked away, "Uhh, Artem, I-"

"Everyone! One more hour to go for the fireworks! Please look forward to it!" The both of you landed your eyes on the speaker, then on each other.

Artem cleared his throat, pulling the collar of his turtleneck, "You were saying?" he inquired, voice and features laced with curiosity.

You cleared your throat and pulled on your collar, mirroring him, "I..." you started as your eyes darted as if you were looking for excuses, then your orbs glinted with realization and faced Artem, "I just wanted to say that we should take pictures! This is a memorable night after all."

His eyes begin to scan the theme park and his gaze found a small photobooth just beside the merry-go-round.

"Good idea. We haven't had anything to commemorate today's fun." He brushed off your weird behavior earlier as you dragged him towards your destination.

There weren't too many people in the waiting line, there were multiple photobooths, plenty enough to not create a line of more than five costumers per booth.

As soon as it was your turn, you excitedly rummaged through the cute costumes the guests can wear in the photos.

"Look Artem," you snapped your fingers to get his attention, "This would look cute on you!" You squealed as you waved the headband with cat ears in front of his face.

This kind of trend has been circling around lately. No matter how much of a busy man Artem is, he still has seen some posts about this on the internet...

Catboy culture, wasn't it? He wondered.

"You should wear one, too." He suggested. He gingerly took the headband from you and after a few moments of hesitation, he finally gave in to the anticipation in your eyes.

Your eyes were practically sparkling taking in the sight of catboy Artem in the flesh.

"Oh my gosh." You breathed, gaping at him.

Artem blinked. "Is there something on my face?" He then turned to the mirror to check what's wrong, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary though.

"It's nothing!" You frantically waved your hand and gestured towards the camera, "Let's take a photo!" you grinned, wearing cat ears identical to Artem's.

You guys started the photoshoot with your hands making peace signs.

Ah, the classic.

The few shots after just consisted of you putting on different faces while Artem just wore different headbands each shot, with the same pose.

"You guys, please act cuter for the camera! " The photographer suddenly commented.

Isn't Y/N cute enough? Artem internally recoiled.

"Young man, put your arms around your date or something, or do a heart pose together! " Mr. Photographer added.

Artem looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours, both were wide with surprise.

He cleared his throat for what seemed like the nth time today and looked at you for approval, "Do you want to?" he asked as his hands formed half a heart.

Your cheeks lighted aflame as you raised your hand, forming half a heart to connect it with his, "I don't mind."

As your fingers touched, Artem cannot control the pink flushing his cheeks as he smiled at the camera.

The photographer continued to instruct the both of you with how you should pose. He deserves a raise for doing his job really well, Artem thinks.

After of what it seemed like endless snaps of sappy pictures, the two of you decided to print all of them.

"Now we have lots of souvenirs!" you scanned each one of the photos and Artem can't help but think how good you two look together.

He thanked the photographer for putting his all into the shoot, then you both headed for the exit.

"How was it, Artem?" You turned towards him with a profound smile.

You have lots of photos together now. He can already see himself wide awake at night, staring at your couple-like pictures.

It was more than okay.

"It was a fun experience. The cat ears aren't bad." He said as he recalled how astonished you looked when he wore the headband.

"We spent almost 20 minutes there..." You sighed as you looked at your watch.

Artem unconsciously checked his wrist watch as well, "There are 40 minutes left before the fireworks. Do you want to check out more rides before then?"

You surveyed the theme park to look for more booths, "Look at that, Artem." you pointed toward the large and loud crowd at the park's quadrangle.

"Perharps it's someone performing." Artem guessed, hearing the strums of a guitar from the speakers.

"Let's check it out!" Curious, you and Artem shuffled yourselves into the crowd. The faint singing voice grew more and more audible as you got closer to the center of the attraction.

You headed to the front for the best audience experience and the singer came into view, "Isn't that?" Artem's eyes were as wide as saucers when he recognized the person singing.

Funny how you weren't surprised, and he wondered why.

There at the center, sitting at a stool with a guitar in hand, singing with a gold microphone in front of him, was the new employee at the firm, William.

Artem frowned.

That's the guy. The guy who was getting too cozy with you, the guy causing the unpleasant pangs inside his chest.

The guy who was one of the reasons why he got the courage to ask you out on this date in the first place.

The feeling of delight earlier was now replaced by uneasiness.

"I didn't know he was a performer." Artem murmured, and he kept glancing at you.

When he saw that you were clapping your hands and a proud smile has decorated your lips - one that's not aimed him, a sudden bitter feeling overwhelmed his whole being.

You looked very happy, and he hung his head low.

He vividly remembered your smiling faces in the office yesterday, and how William seem to always hang around you.

Artem realized he wasn't special. The warm look that he witnessed from you earlier in the sunset, the look that made him think that you reciprocated his feelings, you probably do that to everyone.

He felt so stupid.

While everyone was watching William hit the notes and strum the strings, Artem was watching your every reactions, only for him to get hurt on the inside.

His heart hurts, the clenching feeling in his chest tightening with every cheer that you voiced.

He's glad it was you who were causing this pain, though.

The crowd boomed with claps and shouts as the last note finished the song, and Artem wasn't in the mood to join them.

6:30pm

"Aren't you going to greet him?" Artem's voice made you look up to him, his brows furrowed and he wasn't making eye contact.

You just brushed his behaviour off and said, "Nope. I wouldn't want to disturb him on this special day!" you felt giddy, knowing that you helped William to set this all up.

As soon as his first day in the office, which was around a month ago, he had overheard you and Kiki talking about the big opening of PAX's amusement park, and kept asking questions about the event. He then learned you were friends with the heir, Marius.

You've never seen a face as shocked as William's when he learned that.

He even made Kiki contact her insiders about the soon to be opened theme park.

Kiki asked why he was so curious, and he said he performs on gigs as a hobby, balancing it with his law career, and that he loves performing ever since he was a kid.

"Performing on the theme park's opening would definitely give me more opportunities!" He sounded so passionate that you can't help but support him.

He became bashful though, as he said, "Besides, I've been looking for an opportunity to surprise my girlfriend next month," you and Kiki beamed at him, "This would make her happy, as I made a new song that I specifically made as a gift for her birthday. I'll sing it on the opening if I'm allowed."

That's why ever since, you became close with William. Whenever you talk though, he almost always talk about her girlfriend.

"30 minutes remaining for the fireworks display!!!" The speakers announced.

You were excited for the fireworks, and an idea popped out of your mind.

"Artem," you called him out "Let's ride on the ferries wheel, that way we're up in the sky as the fireworks erupt," you dragged him to the ferris wheel's ticketing booth, "I heard that it takes 20-30 minutes for a capsule to be on top of the wheel, the time is perfect for us!"

"Can we be alone in the capsule?" Artem suddenly requested, his eyes filled with a look you can't fathom. He looked so vulnerable.

"Yes, that's actually normal. We can request that for the youngest senior attorney with 99% win rate!" You grinned and you expected him to send you one of his gentle smiles, but he just turned his head away, and looked at the distance.

You take a good look at him again once you got the tickets, he's still looking away, a solemn demeanor in his face.

You can't help but wonder what he's thinking. He's been acting a little weird, you thought.

Does he not want to hang out with you anymore?

"Artem, if you don't want to, you can tell me. I won't be mad." You eyed him with concern, "We can just sit on the bench or something." you suggested.

Just like that, his expression changed quickly, regret clouding his face, "Y/N," he sighed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that with my actions," he stared at you for a few seconds, then you noticed that light was back in his eyes, the fond smile you liksd seeing is back again, "The ferris wheel is perfect." He then grabbed yoir waist and guided you both to the capsule.

You grinned, "I requested a capsule for only the two of us!" you waved the tickets at him, he chuckled and grabbed it from you to give to the person managing the capsules.

The capsule was air-condition inside, with big windows to get a good view of the outside. You expected nothing from a device created by PAX.

Across from you, Artem sits, his mood is a little better now, but you can't help but notice the silent sadness his cerulean eyes hold still.

You don't like seeing him like this.

"Hey, Artem?" you half-whispered, not wanting to surprise him from his reverie.

His eyes met yours, "Yes?" he responded gently.

"You know you can trust me with your problems, right?" You started, you don't let his surprised expression distract you from what you want to say, "I will listen intently to your troubles, and we'll find a way to solve them together! " You declared with the brightest smile you could ever muster, "So please, share your burdens with me. I'll carry them with you." You finished with a toothy grin.

He blinked a few times before finally shaking his head with fondness, "Thank you, Y/N. I want you to know that you are special to me." His face is suddenly filled with so much endearment you quickly looked away, "Uhh, Of course!" your face flushed red and you raised your hide in an attempt to hide it.

Artem chuckled, the sound giving you a sense of comfort and security. You looked up to him again and saw his features get illuminated by the lights flickering in the theme park, his adoring eyes lingering on you.

Like yours was lingering on him.

You smiled at each other, letting the other feel that they're not alone in the battles they're facing.

What are you to each other, anyway? You pondered when you decided to avert your eyes away from him first.

As far as you can recall, friends don't do this kind of thing with each other. The staring, the blushing. Oh, especially the blushing.

You can't help but long for the possibility of having your feelings reciprocated, but oh boy were you afraid.

"Can I sit beside you?" His question brought you to your senses, and you happily obliged, "Of course! This capsule isn't shaky, we'll be okay being on the same side." You made space for him as you patted the empty space. There he sat, his scent enveloping your senses.

It was silent for the whole ride up, but you were comfortable with it. You were with the person you love, being with them is enough.

7:00pm

Your capsule was right on top when suddenly, a boom was heard and splashes of color was seen through the window.

"Artem!" you pointed at the big, colorful patch of explosion that's a little bit below the capsule you were in.

The ferries wheel was so high that you were higher than the fireworks!

The fireworks was on your side of the window, you can see the view to it's fullest glory.

"Whoa!" you exclaimed, your eyes astonished by the scene before you. Your hands flat against the window, when you suddenly felt a body pressed against your back, and a hot breath against your ear, "It's amazing" you heard Artem mutter, as his breaths fanned the hairs on your neck, before resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yelped, you forgot Artem was just beside you!

Your heart pounded against your ribcage when you realized that in order for Artem to see the fireworks, he needs to look at your side of the window.

Heck, your thighs were touching, and you can feel every ounce of heat that his muscular body radiated. He's practically caging you and this small, suffocating space of a capsule isn't helping!

Despite the unbelievable heat that your whole body is feeling right now, you badly wanted him to wrap his arms around you.

Something was pooling in your stomach, something weird. All you can think about right now is Artem kissing you against the window while you sit on his lap.

Warmth filled your already heated cheeks upon realization of what you just imagined, and you mentally slapped yourself. What were you thinking?

The smell of his vanilla cologne isn't helping!

Nobody has ever made you feel this way before. No other person has affected you like this. You think about the things that this man had done for you, he was selfless, hardworking, and most of all, kind.

Especially the smiles he had always shown you. Those smiles filled with comfort and fondness that makes you weak in the knees. Whenever you see that smile, you find yourself looking forward in seeing it again.

To you, Artem Wing was unobtainable.

Yet you wanted to make him yours.

7:01pm

"Artem!" you pointed below with an enthusiastic grin as the fireworks boomed and splashed the sky above the theme park.

His body scooted over to you without realizing, eyes widening with glee and he muttered, "It's amazing" Artem leaned towards you, placing his chin on your shoulder for him to get better view of the fireworks display below.

It's taking every ounce of his control to not face you towards him and claim your lips then and there.

What you said earlier only fueled his raging feelings for you. You were willing to carry his burdens with him? He never had someone say that to him before, and he was happy it's from you.

The evening is flawless. The two of you were alone, having you near him like this, your decleration of support earlier, and a beautiful scenery before him that he won't get to see everyday...

A perfect evening to pour his heart out to you.

He decided that if there was a best time to confess his love for you, that time would be now. He didn't care about your answer right now, he just wanted to let it all out before this passionate feelings can drive him to insanity.

These feelings were driving him crazy, he wanted to let you know how you make him happy, that he thinks about you eveey second of every day, that you ground him and his lonely heart.

He noticed you were silent and unmoving, so he decided to take the chance. He took a deep breath.

"I'm in l-" "Can I ki-"

You turned your body to face him, surprised. Your face only a few centimeters away from his. One wrong move and you'll kiss.

The both of you blinked.

"You... go first." you said, biting your lip.

He stared deep into your eyes, none of you dared to move from this intimate position, your breaths fanning each other's faces.

"Y/N, I," he rested his forehead against yours and breathed with the most vulnerable voice you've ever heard from him, "I'm in love with you..."

You gaped, but he didn't mind.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, "It's okay if you don't feel the same. I..." he opened his eyes to give you a loving gaze "I will keep loving you anyway."

He looked so vulnerable right now, but it didn't scare him. If anything, he feels relief in finally voicing out the feelings he's hidden for so long.

"I was in a bad mood today because I think you were interested in William," you just blinked and he continued, "I mean, you always look happy when you're with him. It crushed my heart." He finished as he waited for your response.

He waited, and waited.

The silence that you were giving him didn't give him any clue to what you were thinking, it's unnerving.

After of what seemed like an eternity you finally let out, "He has a girlfriend, silly." you see Artem's eyes widened and you continued, "It's a long story, but I'm not interested in him. We're just friends."

You felt the heat creep up his face.

"So... what were you going to tell me?" He said hesitantly as he gulped, the embarrasment from earlier evident in his voice.

Your cheeks flushed pink as you darted your eyes, it was now your turn to get really embarassed, "Can I..." your face looks conflicted. That if you say whatever you wanted to say, It'd be the death of you.

You took a deep breath, Artem told you his feelings, so it's only fair you tell him yours, you told yourself and mustered the courage to look up to his ocean eyes, a vast ocean so blue, you could drown in them, "Can I kiss you, Artem?"

It took a moment before he could fully process your words. His brain short-circuit.

"What?" He blurted out as he scanned your face for any signs that maybe, you have made a mistake.

but you replied, "I want to kiss you Artem," you put your hands on his shoulder to steady yourself, "I'm in love with you too."

His body tingled with so much joy, you being in love with him was just a distant dream before.

Not willing to wait anymore, he licked his lips as he slowly dipped his head to meet your already parted mouth, welcoming him.

You may or may not have kissed the entire way down the ride.

Artem Wing is a dedicated man.

Now, he's willing to dedicate himself to you for the rest of his life.

do not repost © lavynrose 08/16/21.

#tears of themis #tears of themis x reader #artem wing #artem wing x reader #artem x reader #tears of themis imagines #tot x reader #zuo ran x reader

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earlgreydream · 4 years ago

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butterbeer.

| draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader | fluff |

a/n: requested by my dearest hufflepuff, @fitzfiles i’m so soft for draco

You sat curled up in the Hufflepuff common room, your thick herbology book resting on your lap. Cedric was beside you on the couch in his golden quidditch sweater, smiling kindly at you.

“Do you see? In order to care for the mandrakes, you must bury them in the soil like this,” you showed Cedric your notes. Every Friday afternoon was spent tutoring Cedric in herbology after your shared class.

“Yes. You’re much better than Sprout at explaining it. You should become the new herbology professor when the bloke finally retires.” Cedric grinned at you.

“I like Professor Sprout! That would be fun though!” You giggled.

“Oi, Y/N! Your boyfriend is griping to be let in here,” One of the Hufflepuff girls called to you as she entered the common room. You smiled at her apologetically, squeezing Cedric’s shoulder as you stood. You walked to the painting, letting it swing open to reveal Draco Malfoy.

“Hi,” you smiled at him, and he gazed at you softly with a loving smile. His usual arrogance and sharpness was gone from his expression as he looked at you with utter adoration.

“Hi, darling,” he stepped into the common room, kissing your forehead lightly.

“Cedric.” He nodded, greeting your best friend. Draco had been a bit prickly toward him when the two of you first began dating, but he warmed up when he realized that Cedric wasn’t a threat.

“We’re not quite finished. Do you mind?”

“I’ll wait. You can’t go in this anyways.” he said, nodding to your school uniform you hadn’t changed out of.

“I know, darling. It’s warm in here and I haven’t had the chance to change.”

You walked back over to the couch, and he sat on the floor on a golden cushion, his head resting against your thigh. You lightly ran your fingertips through his snowy white locks as you leaned over your herbology book, helping Cedric identify the differences between the plants for your O.W.L.S.

The other Hufflepuffs no longer stared at Draco, now used to having him in their common room. Draco was often hanging around, enjoying the warmth and coziness, and the way he was welcomed. He found that he much preferred it to the chilly, marble elegance of the Slytherin commons.

One of the second-year girls walked over, setting down a plate of pumpkin pastries.

“Y/N, Draco, Cedric, have some,” She said sweetly, smiling at the three of you and sitting down across from the Slytherin prince.

“Draco, would you maybe look at my potions paper? I swear Professor Snape hates me, and I’m nervous.�� She asked shyly, and Draco sat up.

“Of course, let me see.” He took the paper from her hand, and she moved to sit beside him. You smiled down at your boyfriend, and the kind way he spoke to her.

“This is great, but you should add here that polyjuice potion takes a long time to make...” He fell into soft chatter with her, showing her where her paper could be stronger. Draco was gentle, careful to praise the younger student on what she did well. It warmed your heart, and you turned back to finish with Cedric.

“This is perfect. I’ll put in a good word for you too, with Snape. Please, I’m always happy to help you or tutor you if you need it, alright?” he asked her as she stood.

“Thanks, Draco.”

“Of course.”

“I love it when you’re sweet.” You said, leaning down over Draco and kissing the tip of his nose. He stood, helping you to your feet and taking your heavy textbook for you.

“I’m still mean!” He teasingly defended himself and you shook your head at him with a small smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Pansy that you’re secretly nice,” you teased back and he followed you to your dorm.

He set your textbook down on your desk, mindlessly folding the various clothing you had tossed over the back of your chair or top of the trunk at the end of your bed. He was extremely neat, always folding your clothes or putting things back in their places whenever he visited your dorm.

“Y/N, is this my quidditch sweater I’ve been looking for?” He asked as you pulled a yellow Hufflepuff jumper over your head, letting it fall over your black skinny jeans.

“Um, no, it belongs to my other boyfriend who plays on the Slytherin quidditch team,” you answered with a straight face.

“You’re dating Theo behind my back?” Draco asked, humor laced in his voice.

“No, sorry, the other one,” you bit back a giggle as he reached for you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m yours, Draco!” You squealed, trying to escape as your laughter interrupted your breathing.

“That’s right. You’re mine,” his voice dropped a few octaves, making you shudder with a small smile on your face.

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore. You can have it back.”

“Oh, I can have it back?” he smirked, pulling. you into a kiss.

“But I want another one in return.”

“Y/N, that jumper is mine too. And that one.” He pointed, and you rolled your eyes.

“You have plenty. You can share.”

“Come on, let’s get going.”

Draco wrapped a scarf around your neck and fastened the buttons on the coat like you were a child. You knew he was just doing it because he cared, and you let him, taking any affection you could get from Draco.

“Where are your gloves, honey?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, and he frowned.

“It’s cold, you can’t keep losing them.”

“I know, let’s go now. I’ll find them later, for next time,” you begged.

“You can hold my hands so they don’t get cold, and my coat has pockets.”

“Alright, love, come on,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you to him as you apparated to Diagon Alley.

You shivered as snowflakes gently dusted into your hair, the freezing air nipping at your skin. You squeezed Draco’s hand, and he led you through the bustling street, weaving through groups of people. Draco was right, it was cold, but you didn’t dare complain, not wanting a lecture from your boyfriend about how you should keep better track of your gloves and hat.

“Y/N, go ahead,” he gently pushed you in front of him as he opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, helping the two of you escape the cold.

Draco kept a hand on the small of your back, leading you through the crowded pub. You squeezed through the crowded area, and ascended a flight of stairs to the second level. You smiled when you saw your favorite spot was open, a window bench with lots of pillows and a street view. You took a seat in the large round window, and Draco settled beside you.

“What can I get for you two?” A waitress asked.

“Butterbeer for us both, please.” You said politely, and Draco added vanilla cookies. She smiled and promised to have your order soon.

“Thanks for helping me escape school. I needed some “us time” away from it all,” you told Draco, who planted a kiss to your lips. He tasted like sage and vanilla, and his kiss was sweet and gentle.

“Of course, I love spending time with you,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, and you leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. He turned and kissed the crown of your head, his fingers lightly tracing the embroidery on the sleeve of the coat you wore.

The waitress returned with your drinks, and you grinned, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around one of the glass mugs. Draco smiled at your excitement. He loved seeing you happy, even if it was over small things, like a warm drink on a cold day. You were so sweet. You were kind to everyone, especially him, and he loved you for it. You were the breath of fresh air and the gentleness he needed in his life, and he was profoundly in love with you. He adored you, and he was secretly happy when you stole his sweaters, because he loved to give them to you.

A tiny silver necklace with a moon charm always rested beneath your collar, matching the one he war. He’d given it to you as a gift on your birthday, three years ago when the two of you started dating, and you never took it off. It made him happy to see you wear it proudly. Sometimes, he would watch you from afar, seeing your fingers touch the pendant lightly whenever you missed him. He’d walk up to you then, and see your face light up with joy when you saw him.

“Draco, can I have one of your vanilla cookies?” you asked sweetly, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly.

He held out the plate to you, and you picked up the top one off the small pile with a smile. You bit into the soft cookie, smiling at him gratefully. He kissed your cheek, and you fed him a piece. He lightly nipped at your fingertip, making you squeal with delighted laughter.

“Don’t bite!” You giggled, pecking his lips, which now tasted like sugar and butterbeer.

“M’sorry, love,” Draco laughed, not sorry at all.

The two of you played chess on the tabletop with a small set the pub had while you drank the butterbeer and finished off the cookies. You watched the snow fall outside, and Draco tried to teach you chess strategies, though you were mostly lost.

“That’s alright. It’s getting late, anyway.” Draco said when the two of you got stuck in your match, the empty mugs long forgotten. You looked up, seeing that the sun had set, and the only light outside came from buzzing street lamps.

You held Draco’s hand tightly as you stepped out into the cold night, burying your face in his shoulder as the two of you walked back to a side street where you could apparate back to Hogwarts without being seen. You held your breath as Draco waved his wand, and you were suddenly back in your dormitory, disturbing your once-sleeping cat.

“Will you stay?” You asked Draco, and he nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Of course.” He kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you.

You hung up your coat and scarf, slipping your boots off and placing them in the bottom of the wardrobe. Draco draped his slacks, sweater, and undershirt over your chair, and pulled one of his jumpers you had stolen over his head. You stripped before pulling another over your head, his last name stitched on the chest. You turned to see Draco was pulling down your duvet, and you smiled at him softly.

You walked over, freeing your hair from your plait and picking up your brush from the dresser. Draco’s pale fingers wrapped around the brush, prying it from your grasp. You smiled up at him as he gently brushed the tangles from your hair, helping you get ready for bed. You sat on the sheets, knees pulled to your chest, and Draco softly dragging the brush through your hair. You were nearly asleep when he finished, yawning as you sat up.

“Get some sleep, love.” He slipped into bed behind you, pulling the duvet to cover you both. He murmured a spell to shut off the lights, darkness falling gently over the two of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest, settling with you into his arms.

“Goodnight, Draco.” You whispered, and he kissed the back of your head.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

651 notes · View notes

daim1812 · 4 years ago

Text

One Last Time

Levi Ackerman x Reader

Labels: Romance, angst, drama, mentions of suicide, blood, children involvement, pregnancy and death.

Warning: Some manga spoilers. Change of storyline for adaptive purposes.

Song of choice: Saturn by Sleeping at Last

As the sun went down so did his body, sitting down on the log with a perfect view to a hidden lake between enclosed tall trees. Rising up from the mountain, the moon made its way into the night sky.

Levi couldn’t stop himself to stare at the moon. He couldn’t stop breathing the air, feeling it hit his lungs with small fights. He couldn’t stop from repeating the same images in his head.

His squads death made him realize that death was always near. He knew that no matter how much he ran away from it, it was always going to catch up to him.

Mike’s death shook him slightly. He knew this man for his whole years of being in the Scouts, and consider him someone close to him.

Erwin’s death threw him in a verge of loosing himself, almost to the point of ending things. And yet... he found himself weak to the thought. He couldn’t do it, it was someone else’s job to kill him and end his agony. Even when Hange stood there with him and helped him realize that he wasn’t that alone, her sudden sacrifice pushed him into an unknown feeling.

And so he sat there, amaze by the scenery; amazed by the simple thought that he was still... living.

Without a care in the world, Levi closed his eyes and emerge into the swing of the wind. Hitting him softly on the face and pushing his hair back, he indulge in a new feeling he couldn’t describe before.

He was delighted.

He was enlighten.

Yet, he hated that. Everybody else died, leaving him alone to understand himself and hate himself at the same time. All he wanted was... for them to come back. Since Isabel and Farlan, Levi learned the hard way that life isn’t the way he thought it would be. Kenny’s death was another punch in his face. His mother's death since the beginning made him this solitary person filled with problems.

Levi wasn’t normal.

Two pair of hands took him by surprise, but not enough to act defensive. He already knew this hands.

She pressed her face on Levi’s head, her body slightly pushing to his back. Her hands collared on his neck, embracing him thoroughly to her own content.

“What are you doing, Captain?” Her voice swayed Levi’s ears, the melody in her voice making him subtle and nostalgic.

“I have never stopped myself to watch this place, Captain.” He mumbled, almost too low for her to understand, but she did. Levi felt her jaw tense and knew she was smiling.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? This is what we fight for, Levi. For this place, this scenery, for the wind, for the people, for the oceans, for the animals, for us.” She let go of Levi to sit beside him, looking at him.

Levi finally got rid of his bandages, half of his face with a scar that marked a battle in transition; his left eye was hidden over a patch. She wanted so much to contain herself from touching his face once again. One after the other, every time she saw him like this, her hands immediately moved to touch his face. Levi doesn’t care much, but at the beginning he prohibited her to do so.

“Can I...?” The whisper made Levi look down, slowly nodding, not wanting to show her that he needed her to touch him.

Her fingertips rolled on his skin and scars, slowly, and carefully, she continue the path from the chin to his forehead. She stopped the movement once she reached his eye patch, looking at him for confirmation. He didn’t say anything, still staring at the ground in front of him, how the grass moved with the wind.

“I love your eyes, Levi.” She smiled at him, continuing her path, her fingers sinking inside his hair.

He finally let go of a sigh, looking up at her with the most saddest eyes, the color of his eyes slowly fainting by the light of the moon.

“If you die...” He started, stopping her movements. She frowned her eyebrows, looking back at him with fierce.

“Don’t say that. I’m not going to die. I’m not planning on doing so. My plan is to finish this war with Eren and those idiots, and then... we’ll retire in a cabin in the woods. We’ll have lots of kids. I’m still young, I can have at least 7 kids. Don’t you think?” She chuckled, Levi loving so much her action.

When was the last time he felt so affected by the emotions of another person? She had him wrapped on her fingers and yet he couldn’t do anything about that. He didn’t know the feelings he was going through. He didn’t understood what this new emotion was.

Was it really love like the books in the library described?

Was it the love Hange so furiously told him about when they stayed up almost all night drinking with Erwin and Mike?

Was love the past arrangement Erwin had with Nile’s wife?

Or was it that anxious feeling of seeing someone for the first time and noticing how beautiful they were?

He couldn’t decipher anything even if they were together. He was confused with all those emotions flowing into him. From the beginning, in his childhood, he never got to experience love and affection. Farlan and Isabel gave him affection, that friendship, and he learned from that. From Erwin he went through companionship, same with his squad, Hange and Mike. He understood those feelings; he already battled those and lost. Levi knew death, despair, loneliness, sadness; he knew all of those and yet he never once understood love.

She changed those thoughts so easily it scared him.

“You would look so beautiful holding our baby...” Her smile made Levi weak to the knees. How couldn’t he have fallen for her? “My plan is for us to be together until we are old and we decay with time. I want this to be over so we can be happy. What do you think?”

“...” Levi couldn’t say anything. If something he learned from all those years of loneliness and misery, it was to never dream too much. He wanted to live in the present because every time he thought things were alright something ended up wrong.

“Levi?” She looked so worried for him, letting her knees touch the grass in front of Levi.

His hands immediately hold her elbows, not wanting her to get on her knees and get her pants dirty just for him. Yet, she didn’t cared, only pushing away his hands a little bit to not make him feel bad.

“Talk to me, Ackerman.” Her voice soothes him. How many times has he loved hearing her call his name or just say anything in general?

He didn’t wanted to admit it, but having her near him, breathing, laughing, talking, whispering, singing... made him sleep so good for the first time. He finally let go of the worries in her arms and slowly pacified his urges of ending thing. Whenever he could sleep with her, he felt like the world didn’t needed to end just yet. Sleeping with her seemed like the only medicine he needed for days full of regret.

Either way, with those thoughts in his head while he stared down at the girl he profoundly fell for, he couldn’t let himself be like her.

Levi was the opposite of her. Down to earth, cold, and with secrets nobody needed to know. She was an open book, imaginative and lovable. He just didn’t wanted her to feel bad for saying words that could hurt her.

“This is real life, Captain. We are in a fragile situation right now in where we don’t know if tomorrow we will be alive. We live our lives to the fullest imagining that at some point we will stop and notice we fought so hard for our freedom.” Levi’s eyes connects with her, noticing how the light faded a little bit. “I can’t live in a fantasy... not when everything around me is based in reality. You are the one thing,” He stopped for a few seconds, his finger grabbing onto some of her locks. “I can’t loose.”

“You’re in bad luck, Levi, ‘cause I’m going into battle tomorrow and I promise you I will live. I won’t die yet. I can’t leave you alone.” Suddenly she pressed her forehead softly against Levi’s forehead, both of their noses slightly kissing. She closed her eyes and Levi admired her fractions.

He liked her so much.

She was the only reason why he hasn’t indulge into the darkness and end his life right there.

His fingers pressed her locks behind her ear, some of the hair covering his face and hers. She giggled at the humble actions of the man she loved with all her life. He continues to push her hair behind her ears, slowly passing his fingertips on her earlobe.

“Don’t die on me, brat. Keep fighting.” His whisper made her eyes crystallize. She felt the feelings behind those words. He wanted her to continue living even if he didn’t made it through another day.

She shook her head, the hairs from behind her ear falling back on her face as she pulled away from him.

Her hands locked onto his, pressing them on her chest tightly, a little careful of Levi’s bandage hand missing two of his fingers.

“No. Don’t YOU die on me, Levi. I want you to live and fulfill my wish with me. I want you to wake up tomorrow ready to battle and do everything it takes to come back into my arms. Many will die; death is inevitable, yet I’ll be here always. I want you to survive because you deserve to. I know how much you await death. You’ve been waiting for so long to feel it. The grass on your fingers, the blood gushing out of your mouth and the pain. But, Levi, I assure you, nothing is better than living the moment. Nothing will be better than this moment. You and me... finally together. I won’t let you die, Levi. We will have each other’s back. But you will survive even if it means me saving you over and over. I won’t let you fall into a darkness you won’t ever go out. I’ll light up your path every time you see it darken. I’ll keep the light up every time the wind tries to blow it. I’ll be here for you... until death do us apart.” Her eyes quickly tried to gush out the feelings, but the feelings were already dripping down her face.

Levi couldn’t stop himself anymore. He grabbed her cheek, pulled her up a little to be at the same height as him and pushed his lips against hers.

Her lips danced slowly on his, taking almost all the control of the kiss. Even if they were together for so long, Levi didn’t know a lot of things couple usually did. He didn’t know how to kiss, how to compliment, how to touch, how to love. Yet, she didn’t care for those small details. Being near her lover solely made her live happily.

Their lips continued to stick together, Levi wanting so hard to not let go. Maybe he didn’t wanted to let go because he wanted to love the moment like she told him to do; or maybe he felt the need to kiss her one last time just in case something bad happened.

Her hands touched Levi’s cheek, rubbing her fingertips on his cheek. He felt the cold round of tears pressing on his face, sticking them.

Breaking the kiss with a subtle movement, Levi gazed at her up and down, taking a mental picture of his lover for future references. For when the battle came, he could keep calm and fight dedicating his heart.

“Don’t cry, idiot.” He rolled her tear off her face with his right thumb. She nodded quickly, wiping her face with her long sleeve shirt.

“Promise me, Levi... we will fulfill my dream? Just promise me that.” His hand pressing on her cheek, she shoved it even closer to her.

He couldn’t promise that. He just couldn’t. Levi didn’t know if he was going to survive. The situation was getting dangerous and if everything went south, he would have to sacrifice himself to save the others. He needed to give them a future, Levi already fought enough, lived enough.

But now he had her... Now he was supposed to live to keep her by his side. He needed to survive. Yet, he just couldn’t say that to her. He wasn’t very good with words. Showing actions and taking actions was his forte.

The moon shined on them once again, the lighting in his eyes finally shinning again, the back of her head being lightened by the moon as well.

He wanted to live for her.

“I promise.” He mumbled, watching her shriek and throw herself on him, almost pushing both of them back into the ground.

She flowered him with kisses all over his face, being extremely careful of his eye and scar.

“I love you, Levi. Thank you. I’ll keep you safe.” Those words brought him so much joy. An emotion he hasn’t felt at all in his life, yet he was purely in love with this woman and he was going to make her happy.

“Me too, Captain.”

————————————

“Papa, papa, papa!” A little kid, around 6 years old with short dark hair and beautiful grey eyes threw himself at Levi. He catches him almost in midair and makes him sit on his arm and waist.

“What is it, Teo? I’ve told you to not interrupt me while I’m working.” The little kid shrugs his shoulders and purposely hides his face on Levi’s chest.

Levi noticed by the corner of his eye the little girl standing near the door, half of her face looking at him and the kid.

“Alora doesn’t want to play with me and I feel lonely.” His voice makes Levi tremble gently. Who would have thought that the Captain of the Survey Corps was going to be swayed by the adorable side of his older child?

“Alora, come here.” He turns around to the door, the little girl holding onto a dark teddy bear that hanged on her right hand and kept being swept on the floor.

She walked in with her face looking down on the floor. Alora couldn’t lie about it, she was almost scared of her father. He was always so quiet and cold; while she was the opposite. She was curious, a shining sun wherever she went, and a beautiful, intelligent little girl. With only 4 years old she already knew how to do basic math (something her mother continuously felt proud of and mentioned every time).

Levi looked down on her and gently squatted down with Teo on his arms, leading him to stand up on the floor.

Pressing his hand on Alora’s black, long soft hair that fell until her lower back and was tightly put in a ponytail, he smiled at her. Alora looked at her father and smiled back, loving those moments with him.

“Alora, would you like to play with your brother for a little while? Papa has some work to do, but once I’m done I’ll play with both of you. Anything that you want, I’ll play it.” He kept smiling, watching the kids as they celebrated that their dad was finally going to give them some attention. “Go play, kids.”

The kids rushed through the door, running into their rooms to play and have fun with each other.

Letting out a small sigh, Levi got up and sat down on his chair again. He still couldn’t believe he was a father of two children that made his life a whole heaven and a living hell as well.

A knock on the door caught him slightly by surprise, turning his attention towards now the person standing at the door.

He stared up and down at his wife, and how the dress made her look so irresistibly gorgeous.

She smiled at him and entered the room without invitation. Holding on her back for support, or for pain, she finally stood next to him. A hand pressed on Levi’s left shoulder, making Levi close his eyes and sigh again, loving so much her touch.

“You must be exhausted, Levi. Are you sure you can’t just finish this later? I could really use a massage, you know.” She leaned down a little bit, rubbing her nose on his cheek and ear.

“I have to finish today. I’ll be done soon.” Sighing once again, he let go of his desire to stop working and just let her shower him in affection and love.

“You’re so tense, dear.” Her hands touched his shoulders and made pressure on her hands to make him feel at ease. Levi’s head fell back a little bit, seeing his wife enjoying giving him all the love and attention he needed.

“Go do something else, brat. You’re always trying to make me feel good. I’m fine.” Levi pushed his body upwards, breaking the contact of her hands on his shoulders. She chuckled, understanding that Levi didn’t wanted to feel vulnerable at the state of tension he was in.

“Alright, Captain.” She makes the old salute, making Levi tremble at the sight. Even so, she continues to smile, leaning down on him to kiss him on the lips real quick.

“Tsk... idiot.” As soon as he said that, his body lay back at the chair, resting himself on it as he watched his wife walk away with a smile.

As soon as he heard his wife say dinner was ready, his body immediately got up and walked to the living room, seeing how the kids ran to the table. Getting from behind Alora, he helped her get on the chair. Giving her a short smile, Levi sat down at his respective chair, not having any other option than watching his wife put the plates and utensils at the table.

Levi always loved watching his wife do housework. He was a clean freak, and noticing how she always tried her best to keep everything tidy up and clean, made him love her even more. It wasn’t rude or anything, Levi helped a lot in the chores, helping whenever he wasn’t doing his own work.

“You’re slacking off, Levi.” She smiled, putting down the utensils next to his plate. He looked up at her, and her eyes shined to him. God, he could loose himself with just a stare.

“I’m tired.” He said with a sigh, resting on the chair.

“You could finish up quickly, papa.” Teo’s small voice makes Levi smile. His ear rings to that voice and he just enjoy his son’s voice.

“Yes, papa. You have to play with us.” Alora smiles while her mother pours some food on her plate.

“I know, kids.” His wife presses her thumbs to Levi’s nape, slowly rubbing it.

“Papa will be busy, but I’m sure he’ll take some time to play with you, kids. Right, darling?” Levi lets his neck fall back a little bit and looks up at her staring into his eyes. A faint blush covers his cheeks and he tries his best to hide it, yet she already notices.

“Yeah.” Mumbles, staring down at the food that was being served.

After they finished eating, Levi went back to his studio, trying as fast as he could to finish his work.

With a loud sigh, he finally finished doing all the things he had to do. He got up the chair, stretched his back and walked over to the room in where the kids were playing.

Standing on the entrance of the room, Levi let his back touch the wall and just decided to stare for a little bit at the kids giggling and playing.

He never had a childhood like that. All he knew while growing up was self defense. He knew how to stab, how to kill, how to defend himself. Levi didn’t know what other feelings were. The emotions he was feeling right now while watching his daughter show him her doll and his son the little train he got for his birthday, he didn’t know what that was called.

Knowing well enough how to battle an enemy, Levi never thought he would have to be fighting himself over and over in the future. He thought, maybe, after marrying her and starting a new life he would stop all those thoughts. And he did stop those thoughts. The birth of Teo brought into his life a whole new meaning that he didn’t know he needed so much.

Levi found love.

“Papa, papa! Come! Play with us.” The little girl’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. Looking up and down at her, he smiled, walking over to them and joining their small party.

Levi tucked both kids into bed. He wore them out enough for them to be knocked down cold into a huge sleep. Sliding the blanket over Teo and Alora, Levi kissed their small little forehead. If Erwin saw him right now he would have been surprised at the sight of weakness Levi was showing. “What would he say about this?”, Levi thought while staring down at the little girl holding tight her small bear. Nevertheless, Levi didn’t care. All he cared about were those kids and his wife. Erwin was long gone and he knew that if he saw that, Erwin would have been so proud of him. Levi found exactly what Erwin wanted for him, and what he wanted as well. No thoughts would change his mind on what his ex-Commander and best friend would have thought in that situation. Erwin would have been happy.

Turning off the light, Levi closed the door to the room and walked over to the room he shared with his wife.

And there she was, looking over at the door in wait for her husband. She smiled, opening her arms so she could get Levi next to her.

“Tsk. You’re a needy brat.” He crossed his arms, but still walked up to her. She grabs his hand and detangle them from his chest. Bringing him close to her, making him sit down on the bed, she gently pressed his hand on her belly.

Levi felt a knock, a kick, that startled him a lot. A life was in there. His next child was there. Levi finally understood that feeling. He felt it when Teo came the first time and when Alora also came. The feeling of being alive.

“It keeps kicking. It’s so funny.” She whispers near Levi’s shoulder, letting her head fall on his shoulder.

“He wants to kill you. I’ll kill him if he comes out like the other two. Disorganized and dirty.” His comment makes her laugh and Levi has no other option than to enjoy it. He wanted to record that in his mind forever. Her voice and her laugh.

“You silly... They are only like that because you let them be. I remember when I was a Captain and every time I saw you, you were scolding the cadets for leaving dirt everywhere.” She makes him remember, and he just snickers. He really was a strict Captain. And still, he always got the job done.

“I lived so long in dirty and dark places... I didn’t wanted HQ to be the same.” After he finishes talking, he feels another kick, letting go of a small smile.

“The HQ was bland. It was colorless. It reek of death and broken dreams. I didn’t like that so much.” She closes her eyes and rubs Levi’s hand over her belly.

“We didn’t have time to be thinking of colors. We were always living in a die or live situation.” She nods on his shoulder.

“I agree.”

“We should head to bed.” Levi mumbles again, not wanting to take his hand away from her belly or the warmth of her hand on his.

“Mhmm... let’s stay like this for a little while more. I missed your scent.” Her whisper makes Levi shiver, yet he only lets a small grunt come out of his throat, responding to her.

The small shallow breaths she was taking, the thumb rubbing on his hand, her hair falling on his shoulder and her thighs pressing on him made Levi so renewed. At the end of the day, all the tiredness faded away when she was there with him.

He knew she had her eyes closed, she was just resting on his shoulder. Yet, he wanted to look at her, kiss her, hold her, do everything he could think of even if she had a belly growing up. She has done so much for him and continues to do so by loving him every single day of their lives.

Levi slowly pulled his hand away from her belly and her, but now press it on her cheek. She opened her eyes and leaned back from his shoulder, now staring at him with bags under her eyes.

She was fucking stunning even when she was tired.

Letting his fingers roam from her cheek to her ear, pushing the hair to the back of her neck and ear; Levi cut the distance between each other and kisses her. Slowly, shaking and almost afraid of being too aggressive even if he wasn’t. Her hand found Levi’s shirt and gripped it. He pressed his other hand on her cheek and hold her face steady for him to kiss her better. Licking on her lip slowly, he went back and devoured her lips once again, showing off his dominating side.

Hearing her small moan, he let go of her. Staring deeply into her eyes, the small faint blush on her cheeks made him smirk. He loved making her flustered.

Slowly, but surely, Levi pressed his nose against her nose and gave her a lovely Eskimo kiss.

“I love you, Captain.” She said first, leaving him speechless once again like always.

He stared at her up and down, watching her completely. She always had this effect on him. Not for nothing they were married. Even so, Levi couldn’t be so easily frank like her. He loved her, but saying it was so difficult for him. Yet, when seeing her eyes shine the same way it did when they kissed for the first time, Levi couldn’t let her be disappointed on himself. He loved this woman with all of his life.

The woman who saved his life.

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”

————————————

“I’M NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND, JEAN!!!!” The small faint voices of a girl during a silent world, were being simply shouted against the noise.

“We have to leave. We need to help Armin and Mikasa. If you stay here, we’ll be loosing you too, Captain. Please, reason with me here. We already lost Connie and Reiner is seriously injured. We need you.” Jean tried his best to reason with the girl who fearlessly continued to cry and shout at the tall man.

“NO!!! I CAN’T LEAVE HIM!!” She cries out, her tears falling in Jean’s arms and onto the floor.

“I understand, Captain. But Captain Levi wouldn’t want you to stay here and do nothing. We must continue to fulfill his wish and save the world. Please...” He couldn’t hold her anymore. She kept screaming while trying to push Jean away so she could hold her lover’s body on her arms. “CAPTAIN, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!!”

He let go of her and she fell on her knees, scrapping them against the rocks and sand. Yet, it didn’t hurt. Her body was numb to the exterior damage. She just couldn’t react to any of that. All she could do was cry and cry and keep crying.

Her body crawled closed to her lover’s body and she grabbed his bloody hand.

When did that happened? How did it happened? Where was she? How did she let that happen?

She kept questioning herself over and over again into the smallest details. Levi’s death was upon her and she couldn’t help but blame herself.

Levi’s soulless body was laying on the ground, his left arm missing and his left leg. He was not coming back from this one and she knew it. After everything she promised. After everything she tried to do to keep him safe, she failed every and each of those promises.

“Wake up, Levi... Yo-You... you promised... You pro-promised we were going to live. You promised ME you were going to live. You promised, you promised, you promised... YOU PROMISED!!!” Her shouts could be heard all over the quiet ambient. Jean let some tears fall down as well, his head falling forward to not be seen weak.

She grabbed Levi’s body and got him close to her, pushing his face near her and sobbing. Tears falling down on Levi’s face, almost washing away the dirt and the blood. She just couldn’t believe that was happening. Levi was actually dead, his body resting on her arms.

“You promised... we were going to have kids... and live happy in a little house on the woods! We were going to raise our children the way they never raised us. Please... please... Levi, please, I love you. Don’t go... don’t leave me!”

The sound of her sobbing suddenly were muffled by extremely loud crashing sounds.

Jean looked over to where the sound came and his eyes became plates. He quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her forcefully, making her shriek and cry harder.

“Captain, Armin is in trouble. We need you. I know it hurts. I know you and Levi had dreams. But right now, if you don’t stand and get your shit together, everything that Captain Levi fought for will be for nothing! DEDICATE YOUR HEART!” Her red face and covered with tears, dust and blood suddenly came to a halt.

Levi wouldn’t wanted her to be like this and not in that moment. She gazed at Levi’s body on the floor one last time, got closed to it, kneeled down and after crying out her last tears, she gave him a farewell kiss.

She wiped her tears off and got up, her face drastically changing to pure anger.

“Let’s save humanity, Jean. DEDICATE YOUR HEART, SOLDIER!!”

The End

Thank you so much for reading.

Have a good day or night, darling. 🥰

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi angst #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi romance #couple #blood and death #levi death #self insert #levi x reader fluff #levi x reader angst

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rantingcrocodile · 3 years ago

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I really don’t understand the people that say, “This is just the internet, it’s not real” and “An online community isn’t the same as a real one” or “People in real life aren’t like this.”

This is real. Very real people sit at their computers or on their phones to share information and give their opinions. Every person with a social media account is a real person that has a real life outside of it. Internet discussion and meeting new people on the internet can change people profoundly.

The accounts that you interact with are real people.

When there are women who are first struck by the truth of the cosmetics industry and have their eyes opened to patriarchal beauty standards through posts and discussions online, and then they decide to stop using makeup and stop shaving, that is an example of the internet affecting reality. She’ll be asked why she’s changed doing what she’s doing and will explain the truth to others. One internet-drop in a pond and that ripples out into real life, creating a small but meaningful change. How many other women that she knows might also stop doing those things, or at least have their eyes opened, too?

When you argue with a misogynist or a racist or a homophobe or a biphobe or an ableist, etc, they’re also very much a bigot offline and their bigotry affects others around them.

Have we forgotten that terrorists radicalise people online? That those terrorists have become murderers because of what happened online? Do you think that only that extreme counts and there can be no other effects of what happens online?

With the relative anonymity that being online brings, people are more likely to share their honest opinions and are slightly more prone to change their views because of that vulnerability. It helps that online, most discussions are text-based, that can be read over and over again, studied, internalised.

This is just data from the US from 2020, so imagine the impact across the planet.

If someone fairly neutral comes across harmful ideas about others online and internalises them, then they make things harder for the real people around them offline.

If someone fairly neutral comes across harmful ideas about one of their own labels and internalises them, then they end up damaging themselves and real people offline like themselves.

Discussing things and arguing online isn’t some pointless thing to be dismissed. Obviously offline, missions are concrete and it’s more likely to bring bigger change, affect things in different ways. It’s better to be able to connect face-to-face and set up tangible centres, charities, pick up actual litter from the ground, etc. That isn’t always possible. Transportation, disability, personal life commitments, it all depends, and there needs to be more understanding for that alongside encouragement to meet in real life.

The truth is that the internet is much more connected to real life than a lot of people are willing to recognise. Just because real, full names and addresses aren’t attached doesn’t mean that whatever happens online happens in a vacuum.

#crocodilian ranting #I understand the people that push for real-life meet ups and communication #but I will never understand those that say anything like 'Oh this is just online and not real life'#Look at the shit that started as social contagion on Tumblr and is now treated as fact in national newspapers #taken seriously in governmental policies #and then tell me 'this isn't real life'

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tealin · 4 years ago

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Cape Crozier: The Spiritual Journey

As usual, please check out http://twirlynoodle.com/blog to see this post and others in their original (functioning) formatting.

Since getting seriously into polar history, I kept hearing the same two things from polar veterans. One was that I could not possibly understand the story properly, or be able to depict it truthfully, unless I visited Antarctica myself. The other was that Antarctica changes people. This was unanimous amongst scientists, historians, and even tourists: one cannot help but be profoundly affected by contact with Antarctica; that is just a fact of the place.

I have certainly been changed by Antarctica indirectly. The inner kernel of “me” is the same in my earliest memories as now, but the Terra Nova men and their experiences have fundamentally shifted how that kernel views and relates to the world and the people around me. I am a vastly better person for their influence, and that is a large part of why I have been so dogged in getting their story to a new audience: the hope that, through my work, even one other person might be changed in the same way.

When I finally got the chance to visit Antarctica in person, I had half an eye out for signs something had happened. Two weeks into my visit, I had learned a lot and had some meaningful experiences, but I couldn't say I had changed at all. Maybe that initial action-at-a-distance was the change I had been promised after all.

Then I went to Cape Crozier.

As we have spread around the planet, humans have noted certain places as being special in some way, places of some sort of power, or where the spirit world is a little more tangible. The Celts called these 'thin places', where the fabric of reality is threadbare, and Something Else comes a little closer. One can have a 'thin' experience anywhere, but certain places seem to encourage them. They may remain completely unmarked, or may become loci for centuries of pilgrimage, or anything in between, but they exist in some form in every culture except, perhaps, the post-Enlightenment intellectual West.

Antarctica, generally, feels like where the edge of a painting dissolves into brushstrokes. There is a certain unreality baked-in: the sun wheels around the sky without setting, one can count on one hand the species of life regularly seen, and everything – the landscape, the weather, the distances – is so vastly out of proportion to puny humanity. One could argue that this 'unfinished' feeling is because so much of it is white, but I have travelled through many snow-covered landscapes, and they feel like landscapes covered in snow, not fundamentally blank places with a few suggestive details dropped in by an artist whose main attention was elsewhere.

Cape Crozier was something else entirely, though. It is, of course, hanging off the edge of Ross Island, but it felt more like it was hanging off the edge of reality itself. It is a thin place par excellence. And I had an experience there which I have been trying to process since landing back at McMurdo. When I tried to discuss it with friends, my ability to speak quite simply stopped. Then the pandemic, and the new house, and pushing through Vol.1, all rose up and drove it to the back of my mind. In February I wasn't ready to talk about it; here in October, I worry it's too late. But I feel compelled to share what happened there, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I ever will.

If this were a novel, at Cape Crozier I would have felt the thinness of time, and a closer connection to the dead men I had followed there – perhaps almost to believe they weren't dead at all! In such a place, that didn't seem impossible. But that is not what happened. Nor did I have some sort of enlightenment beamed into my head from the heavens. Even the word 'happened' is too suggestive of some sort of discrete external event. If you had asked me, there, at the time, I'd have said I was just sitting there thinking. But I sit thinking a lot in life, and this was not the sort of thinking I am used to. It was more like a revelation. Not in the trumpets and angels sense, but in a literal one: layers of clutter and gloss were pulled back to reveal a simple underlying truth. It was, in essence, a dose of perspective, a view from high and far enough away to see the big picture, and not the surface detail. As I sat at the base of a boulder, gazing at the stone igloo and gawking at how completely insane were the men who dragged their sledges to this desolate nowhere to build it, I suddenly saw my life as it appeared in the Author's notes.

Ever since first getting the inkling that this story would make a good graphic novel, it has felt like a calling. I said 'no' to the calling for years – some sort of cosmic wrong number – but when I finally said 'yes' everything started falling into place. That is supposed to be a good sign, for a calling. And I was happy following it, though it wasn't easy or comfortable. As far as I could deduce, under my own power, it seemed like what I ought to be doing. That is not to say there weren't doubts, especially in the grey light of a winter morning when I would lie in my rented bed, looking at my desk and wondering what on earth I was doing with my life. And I was not untroubled by other concerns: Shouldn't I be more helpful to my family? Why have I been persistently unable to find a tribe, or a relationship? Will I be allowed to stay in the UK? Can I do this work and keep myself fed and housed?

Here, on a wind-scoured ridge on the edge of nowhere, reflecting on its history of unbelievable and, it could be argued, pointless hardship, one might expect to realise the folly of one's ways, and to swear off quixotic enterprises in favour of the hitherto unappreciated quotidian stuff that really matters. But that is not what happened. Instead, I got this dose of clarity:

I am here to tell this story. Not here, at Cape Crozier, in this instant (although that too), but here, on this planet, as a human being. This is what I am for.

Whatever I need to make it happen will be provided. No less, and no more.

Everything else? Tangential. Not worth worrying about. What needs to happen, will happen, and if it doesn't happen, it didn't need to. And that's OK.

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.

When I was young, we had a puzzle of the United States of America. It was made of Masonite, and the pieces were cut out in the shapes of the states, which would be assembled to fill the recessed outline of the country. Because they were geographical shapes and not interlocking jigsaw pieces, they would slide and rattle around until the last one got wedged in and locked everything else in place.

Most of my life, I have felt like that rattly puzzle. I didn't realise it because I had never known there was another way to be. But there under the boulder it felt like that last piece had been dropped in, that secured all the loose ones. It was not that Cape Crozier was my missing piece and now that I had it I was complete – that is far too literal. The missing piece was a something that wasn't even a thing; rather, in that moment of clarity, I felt all the jangling bits come to rest, and a wholly unfamiliar solidity. At last the clay wobbling around the potter's wheel had been centred, and I felt a metaphysical ground beneath my metaphysical feet that I had not known it was possible to feel.

Ironically, the rest of the day I felt like I wasn't touching the actual ground at all, perhaps because what I was anchored to was on another plane entirely. The stumbling shamble through the wind back to the helicopter might as well have been happening to someone else. We took off into the gale, and though the pilot acted as though it was perfectly ordinary, when we were rounding the ridge he said 'wow, that's the rotor all the way to the left' which I didn't understand but didn't sound great. Nevertheless the sense of peace persisted, and I understood how, in his last letter to his wife, which he knew would be his last, Wilson could have kept insisting 'all is well.' (I knew why he wrote that: he had read Julian of Norwich. But now I understood why.)

The journey back was a transcendence all of its own, the beauty of which seemed to be a perfectly natural outward manifestation of that altered state. We touched down in time for me to make it to the Galley just as it opened for dinner, so we couldn't have been gone two whole hours, and that seemed absurd to me – surely I had sat under that boulder for two hours at least? Or had we only been at the igloo ten minutes? It was impossible to tell.

What I wanted more than anything was to go up a mountain and ponder the whole thing, alone, until it sorted itself out and I was ready to come back down again. I could have gone up Observation Hill, but the weather looked liable to turn into a proper blizzard at any moment. So, lacking a better option, I went to go eat, and, after having a chuckle at the Cherry Turnovers, slunk to the back where I could usually count on having a small wallflower table to myself, especially this early. But one of the larger tables was full of young dudes talking about bar fights they'd been involved in, and I just … couldn't. So I wandered into the main area and discovered the One Strange Rock crew having an early dinner as well, begged a spot at their table, and ate swaddled in friendly natter instead of at one with the universe in a blizzard. It amounted to much the same thing.

Eventually one of them said, 'You went to Cape Crozier today, didn't you? How was that?'

I made an exploding gesture around my head and said 'Pkhhhh.'

Cherry wrote that the Winter Journey 'had beggared our language'. I am sure that my inarticulate gesture is not what he meant. But at the same time, in fact at that very dinner, I realised something about his writing. The Winter Journey chapter is unanimously regarded as the finest part of The Worst Journey in the World. Some people question that this otherwise unremarkable country gent, who never produced another book, could have written with such profound and expressive talent, and they posit that his friend and neighbour George Bernard Shaw, who definitely did consult on the book, must have ghostwritten it. I have read enough of Cherry's writing – in his own hand – to know this is bosh; the voice and the style are distinctly his. What's more, I was surprised to discover, when going through his journals, that a large portion of the Winter Journey chapter was not written last, despite it being the last to join the manuscript of Worst Journey, but was in fact written in his bunk at Cape Evans while he was recuperating from the experience. In the published book, he singles out some passages as being from 'my own diary' but great tracts of unattributed narration are more or less verbatim quotations as well. The experience related therein feels so immediate because it was.

The rest of Worst Journey, while perfectly readable, is largely a narrative rewrite of Cherry's and others' diaries. Sometimes he lets others carry the story for pages at a time. His writing is undeniably good, but is often simply mortar, filling gaps and binding sources together to tell a history that no human invention could better. The Winter Journey chapter, on the other hand, reads like a torrent of pure inspiration pouring through him onto the page. That such vivid, timeless prose should have come from an exhausted 25-year-old in his bunk in a wooden hut is no less remarkable than from a jaded 35-year-old in the library of his country house.

Artists of all stripes will often say that their best work is not their own creation, but feels like it already existed and came through them from somewhere else. It's as if there's a great Beyond where things that need to come into the world – stories, images, performances – queue up for passage through artists' minds and bodies. Sometimes one taps into it by luck; usually it's a combination of training and discipline that makes the link traversable, from time to time. Perhaps artists' minds are their own thin places, in a way. Sitting there at dinner with my friends, I felt as though I'd brushed against the fabric between this reality and that Beyond, and, like touching the wall of a tent in a rainstorm, broken the surface tension and allowed something through. I felt like, if I just put pencil to paper, something could flow through me, if only I could narrow down a subject. With the intensity of his experience, Cherry did not so much brush against the wet tent fabric as punch a hole through it; feeling just a small inkling of that myself, it was no wonder that the creative energy poured into his diary with such intuitive eloquence.

Had I sat down to write this that night, perhaps I could have tapped into that flow, but I didn't feel I was ready. I can guarantee you that right now I am not tapped into anything but a vague and dwindling recollection. As vast as the experience was, by putting a box of words around it, I cannot help but reduce it to the confines of the box. But that is the best I can do under my own power.

Compared to the seismic transformation of character brought about by my first vicarious encounter with Antarctica, the insight at Cape Crozier was very small and personal, but once in place, the ramifications have been substantial. When I arrived back home, just before Christmas, the world was still as it ever was, but I was different, and I noticed how differently I related to everything. Things I loved about Cambridge, which previously made me desperate to stay, I appreciated no less, but valued instead as something I had the honour to enjoy for a while, and didn't need to hold on to. A young-adults group which I'd hung around, formerly a precious simulacrum of a social life, now felt hollow, and I abandoned it in favour of time spent one-on-one with the handful of people who I really appreciated. They all said I seemed different; one person said I seemed 'sad', but I think I had just taken the mask off the seriousness which tends to frighten people. I have never been afraid to be myself, but in recent years have tried to mitigate that self in relation to others; there seemed no point to that, now. It was as if my inner gyroscope had finally started spinning, and I had a sense of balance and orientation that I hadn't before.

Holding on to the clarity of that moment, and the centredness it brought me, has not been easy. It didn't keep me from panicking when my housemate excoriated me back in March. It didn't focus my mind on my work as soon as I'd moved into the new place, or save me from getting angry and frustrated when battling my tax returns. Sometimes it's very hard to remember at all. But I know what happened, and I can remember remembering, even if I can't recapture the feeling itself. Sometimes, when it's very windy, I seek out a high open place in the hope of feeling it again, but it hasn't worked. Maybe it doesn't need to. Having it once was all I really needed, and even if I succeeded in flicking those switches again, what good would it do that hasn't already been done?

I could not foresee, on that windswept ridge on the edge of reality, where the world would be in 2020. In wry moments I think I was only a few months ahead of a large portion of humanity, who have been forced to sort things out when the pandemic stripped away their preoccupations and illusions. Maybe you are one of them, and you recognise some of what I've described. Maybe you feel like you've been running away from it. Maybe you have been running towards it but have been unable to find it. All I can tell you is: it's worth the seeking.

I wish everyone in the world could visit Antarctica, even just once, and see how it changes them. The world would be such a better place. I am so profoundly grateful that I had the chance, and am determined to pay it forward by bringing some shred of that experience to as many people as possible. If my communication fails to bridge that gap for you, then take it upon yourself to find your own thin place. They are all around. It only requires that you be receptive, and undertake to look.

#antarctica #travel #spirituality #purpose #mountaintop moment #cape crozier #epiphany

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freddieofhearts · 4 years ago

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Bye bye, dears (for now!)

I know there have been a lot of rumours and some posts about me leaving, so here I am to set the record straight and say a quick ‘au revoir’. This post is long, and I don’t expect everyone to read the whole thing—if you just want information on how to keep in touch, or about access to my removed fics, scroll to the bottom. ⬇️

Why are you leaving?

Firstly, of course I’m not leaving Freddie. This is just an ongoing hiatus from the social side of fandom, because while I have some incredible friends here, who have done all they can to support me and have made this experience wonderful in lots of ways—it’s also true that the social space has become more and more toxic for me.

I get a wild amount of hate. Despite never having my ask box enabled on here, people create new accounts just to message me and tell me all the problems in this fandom are my fault, that I’m faking being sick, that I should kill myself, that I’m fat, etc. I also very regularly get hateful comments on AO3.

Obviously I realise that I’m not the only one who receives these cruel attacks, but it’s become increasingly hard to handle them—especially as some people (‘real’ accounts, not faceless anons) do continue to blame me for wider problems in the fandom. It makes me feel consistently sad, anxious, and paranoid, so that I can’t focus on anything Queen-related that I enjoy.

More pressingly, it’s affected my mental health, which is—imperfect at the best of times. As I’ve occasionally alluded to in older posts on this blog, I have a history of anorexia, OCD, PTSD, and some other overlapping issues. Most people who know me in the fandom are also aware that I’m ‘clinically extremely vulnerable’ to Covid-19, significantly immunocompromised, and have been isolating at home for eleven months.

The combination of all of these things + the constant toxic messages has really been triggering me, and leading to an uptick in disordered behaviours, which my body cannot sustain. Every new instance of hate from an anon—every time there’s another indication of groups in the fandom wanting to ostracise me further—my reaction is deeply self-punitive and unhealthy. Ultimately I need to be out of this environment for, at least, a protracted period. My therapist, my partner and my close friends in the fandom support this decision.

So, what went wrong?

In 2019, I expected to be an absolutely tiny blog in the Queen Tumblr landscape. The fandom was already well-established, and I have never worked to ‘build a following’ on here—I think I’ve linked my own fic a maximum of three or four times!—in fact, more or less the opposite. As I mentioned above: ya girl is nutty as a fruitcake. As a result, I often avoid extremely niche things in daily life which cause severe anxiety for me, Relevant examples here: I never look at my timeline. I never intentionally look at my follower number. Yup, it’s strange, I fully admit it, but it’s best for me to go with these things—usually. In Queen fandom, however, this avoidance both of analytic stats and of most direct engagement led to some problems... My followers grew without me realising, and way more people were reading my blog than I was aware of. I was still in a—“Wow, this fandom is very frustrating, and rife with ableism, racism, etc., so how do we fix this???”—mindset, and I wanted to share my opinions, sure! but I also thought I was sharing them with 15-20 like-minded people.

Now, intent is not impact, and I recognise that I was brusque, didn’t phrase things particularly sensitively, and absolutely did hurt some people by criticising the fandom so freely. I still regret this—and I regret just as much the fact that some assholes have used my criticising the fandom on my own blog as implicit justification for attacking authors. I have said on here many times that I don’t condone that behaviour—but I also think there’s some truth in the presumption that these anonymous malcontents felt my critiques somehow ‘permitted’ them to engage in abuse. For the first few months, though, I genuinely had no idea there was a link at all—and so I was initially slow to condemn this abusive behaviour in public, because I was taking it for granted all authors agreed it was shitty. It took someone directly telling me (shoutout to @a-froger-epic) that people had identified a connection between my posts and the anons, before everything fell into place.

I would like to offer my apologies to the fandom at large for not being more quick on the uptake about this, because I feel that had I realised sooner that these people were taking ‘inspiration’ in some way from me, it might have been easier to put a stop to it. It does seem that there is still a lot of confusion about whether I support them and which of their views I agree with. Let’s be 100% clear on this: I do not support the anonymous commenters on AO3. At times there is some, limited overlap between parts of their views and parts of mine, but even that is less than you may think—I often see anonymous comments from so-called ‘Freddie fans’ that I substantially disagree with.

Perhaps even more importantly: I do not support anyone who sends anonymous hate on Tumblr.

What’s all this about ‘overlap’ with the anons?

Let’s do a mini-summary of the myths vs. the truth. There are views I hold which are genuinely unpopular in the fandom—but which I own up to completely, and have never tried to hide in any way. I’ve never needed to use anonymous to share my opinions because I’m completely open about them! What people who don’t know me tend to have ‘heard’ about me, though, is usually a drastic distortion of my real opinions.

What people think I think:

- Freddie should never top.

- It’s okay to send anon hate if someone writes Freddie ‘wrong’.

- It’s more important to correct ‘wrong’ portrayals than to respect other writers.

- It’s inherently wrong to be more interested in band pairings than canon pairings.

- Freddie should be overtly written as a r*pe survivor/victim (and not doing this is wrong).

- Freddie should be overtly written as having an eating disorder (and not doing this is wrong).

- Kink fics are wrong.

What I actually think:

- I believe Freddie did have a strongly defined sexual identity with marked preferences, but I don’t think Jim Hutton lied when he said that Freddie topped. I believe Freddie did top, but this isn’t the time or place to get into my thoughts on why/when/how much. I do believe that my analysis of the sources relevant to this subject is as historically accurate as one can reasonably be in matters of sex (where historical accuracy will always be particularly limited and imperfect)—but I don’t think it’s morally wrong to write Freddie as topping more than he probably did.

- I don’t believe there’s only one ‘right’ version of Freddie (all others being ‘wrong’). I do believe it is possible to be more right or less right—but I’m also conscious of the fact that this scale of value is not one by which everyone measures fanfiction. As a result, then, I don’t think that any perceptions surrounding ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ justify sending anonymous, non-constructive criticism, or outright hate.

- I do believe constructive criticism is a good thing. I welcome and appreciate it myself; I have received it on my fics in Queen fandom, and it has made them better. I have been in writing workshops which included very forceful criticisms, and the value of such feedback has been intimately and immediately part of my life as a writer for years. However: in this case, I have accepted that my opinion differs from the general community preference, and so I no longer offer any constructive criticism (outside private beta-reading). I haven’t changed my view, but I’ve changed my practice to align with community norms.

- I do not think any single, individual writer has a personal responsibility to write about Freddie Mercury in any given way. That ranges from including the more distressing topics to which I’ve devoted attention (such as trauma)—to concentrating on ‘canon’ pairings like Jimercury—to, even, focusing on Freddie at all.

“Now, that doesn’t sound like you, @freddieofhearts,” you might be thinking. And I know it doesn’t; I think something I’ve done a poor job of articulating is the difference between how I view each individual fan—namely, as free to shape their creative experience at will, even in ways that I might find distressing or offensive; even in ways that you might find distressing or offensive—and the way I view the Collective. I think people have interpreted some of my critiques of ‘Queen Fandom’ as meaning something like: “You-in-particular, a specific Queen fan, are doing it wrong and should change everything about how you do it; also you don’t really care about Freddie.”

And—that’s not it. What any given fan, as an individual, does, isn’t a problem. And that can be true alongside—concurrently with—a multivalent critique of how the fandom is lacking in representation of Freddie’s life, with all that that (wonderful, deservedly celebrated, but also profoundly traumatic) life entailed. I still hold that view; I still have myriad problems with ‘the fandom’ (structurally, collectively, historically and presently—from the 1990s to the 2020s). Some of what I want to work on (away from the social life of fandom) is expressing those critiques with greater nuance, in ways that can’t be misinterpreted as shading any particular fanfiction author or subgenre of story.

In brief: I haven’t changed my mind, but I think Tumblr is an untenable environment in which to discuss the things I want to analyse, especially as there is an ever-present danger of hurting someone.

Can we keep in touch? Where is the fic?

I will drop by this account periodically to check out posts that friends have sent me, so you can always sent me a private message to ask for my contact details on the other app that I’m using now for fandom friends. Multiple Freddie conversations and projects are going on over there, off-Tumblr, with a much ‘gentler’ environment and no bad actors—I personally love it!

All my fic has been downloaded and saved. I don’t want to deal with constant harassment on AO3, but I’m happy to share a copy with anyone who missed it and wants to read/re-read something. I also saved everyone’s lovely comments and thoughtful con-crit, so none of that has been lost or erased.

Thank you to everyone who welcomed me to the fandom, made me think, taught me, shared with me, sent me into fits of the giggles, collaborated with me creatively, and otherwise made this one hell of a ride! Love you all. ❤️

#au revoir my dears #lil gay bby

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project-fandom-leap · 4 years ago

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I am not sold on the stereotypes the generational divides are saddled with based on arbitrary generalizations and the american-centric point of view they seem to encompass. Boomer memes. Millennial memes. Jokes about how all people over age 30 cannot adapt to tech.

Some people are just assholes resistant to change and angry about it hands down.

But one thing I would like to acknowledge in regards to younger generations vs older generations particularly in regards to the United States - 1990 was the year the ADA was passed. 1973 is when the Disability Rights Education and Defense Fund says the very first civil rights for protection of people with disabilities was created. And even then, unless you were profoundly affected by a visible or intellectual issue- you were pretty much sorted into being a ‘bad’ kid or a ‘good’ kid in school. There were few protections in place for things like general anxiety disorder, grief, depression, and very little access to skills to address these things if even acknowledged. You were pushed through and told to suck it up.

What does this mean? It means there exist the possibility that the person you are critiquing for inability to adapt to new tech or to changes has undiagnosed conditions they’ve been relying on cobbled together skills to get through their lives. They learned how to do this one thing using every spoon they have and have no clue how to rebuild that flimsy structure over and over to adapt.

Think about what you expect for your peers now as courtesy- trigger or content warnings? Acknowledging they might not have enough spoons to complete a task or participate in an activity? An understanding they may have ADHD or ASD or general anxiety disorder or PTSD or Major depressive Disorder? The possibility they’ve been exposed to 27 microagressions that morning without learning any skills to move forward? Have you extended this to the 59 year old collegue who cannot make the cash register function with a long line waiting and you whisper boomer behind her back?

But - wait- QPJ, you say, they aren’t respecting or extending courtesy toward -my- needs. And yes, this is totally valid. Some aren’t. And it’s hard, because the burden on us to teach them- hey, I have ADHD and cannot comprehend a verbal list due to the way my short term memory is structured- is a huge thing to shoulder. And some of them will be assholes and be taught it over and over only to be assholes over it. But some of them? They have the same thing but don’t know it, only know that they are also flailing and haven’t been taught any skills or offered any meds and are lashing out because the tied-by-a thread compensation/mask they’ve constructed on their own isn’t sturdy enough to handle change or a new situation.

As someone who works with adult special need populations and seniors in nursing homes on a regular basis and also is differently abled but was offered and still takes advantage of the therapeutic help available to me, all I ask is for some compassion to be extended outward.

#disability awareness #generational divides #compassion toward other humans #cw: language

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studiopeachz · 4 years ago

Text

Task Brainstorm & Research

What am I passionate about?

Food

Cultures

Traveling

Music

tattoos/illustrations/designs

art/painting/drawing

Mental health

Self discovering/acceptance/explorations/expressions

What do you wish more people understood?

I wish people understood more about the different forms of self expression through different ways such as art, design, fashion, literature, etc.

I wish people understood more about human rights, or general personal choices without judgement

What do you feel strongly about?

I feel strongly about self love and acceptance because the factors of accepting ourselves can be hard but can make us flourish, and gives us opportunities to express how we feel

What makes you feel good?

Art in different forms makes me feel good has it drives my curiosity to learn and dig deeper for meaningful things

Beauty and self acceptance, embracing our imperfections

Wise words/sayings that inspire and impact me and others in a positive way

What makes me unhappy?

As an empathetic person, I feel unhappy for the one who also feels unhappy or any certain unstable emotions.

Making mistakes also make me upset as it is hard to admit our own wrong doings

Stereotypes, because it gives us an invalid label to individuals which do not define us as a whole

I don’t like when people judge you right away without knowing you

If you could fix something, what would it be?

I would want to fix the past mistakes i have done, wishing i could of done better

I would of want to fix the moments that I wish i could of done or fulfilled which leads to present regrets

What would you like to see in the future?

I would like to see everyone in the world to be kinder, and more understanding towards each other as it gives opportunities to get to know individuals truly, without having to judge them right away.

I would also like to see people normalizing natural and imperfect things and different creations of forms of self expression without any judgement, but curiosity instead.

What would you like to shine a light on?

I would like to raise awareness about the beauty of differences and self expression, even in peculiar artistic ways

What do you see that others don’t see?

As an optimistic person, I like to see the good in everything, therefore I have this willingness to listen and to understand situations, stories, and journeys of others.

I find the most imperfect things to be beautiful.

Things about Gen Z

https://www.livingfacts.org/en/articles/2020/meet-gen-z

https://danschawbel.com/blog/39-of-the-most-interesting-facts-about-generation-z/

Demographics

Gen Zers are also the most diverse generation. Research by the Center determined that nearly half (48%) of 6- to 21-year-old Gen Zers are racial or ethnic minorities, compared with 39% of Millennials in that age bracket in 2002 and more than double the percentage of early Baby Boomers in 1968.

Attitudes

In many instances, the youngest generation’s views follow Millennials’ social attitudes, and are in stark contrast to the oldest group, the Silent Generation, with Baby Boomers and Gen Xers falling in the middle.

For example, 70% of Gen Zers say government should do more to solve societal problems, rather than leaving it to businesses and individuals. By comparison, 64% of Millennials and only 39% of Silents say government should do more. Similarly, roughly 6 in 10 Gen Zers and Millennials say increasing racial and ethnic diversity is good for society, compared with about 4 in 10 Silents.

Gen Z’s as consumers

55% of Gen Z would rather buy clothes online and 53% would rather buy books and electronics online. [JWT]

Their favorite items to spend money on are food and drink (36%), going out with friends (32%) and clothes (18%). [Visa]

66% want to own both houses and cars in their lifetimes. [Deep Focus]

Gen Z’s most used tech devices are the smartphone (15.4 hours/week), TV (13.2 hours/week) and a laptop (10.6 hours/week). [Vision Critical]

50% would look on their phone to look for a better price while shopping at a retail store. [Gen HQ]

63% are concerned when it comes to protecting their identity when paying with a debit or credit card online or in a retail store. [Gen HQ]

Gen Z values

76% are concerned about man’s impact on the planet. [JWT]

79% of display symptoms of emotional distress when kept away from their personal electronic devices. [University of Maryland]

90% would be upset if they had to give up their Internet connection while only 51% would give up eating out and 56% would give up downloading music. [JWT]

84% multitask with an Internet-connected device while watching TV. [Forrester Research]

They have more than 10 apps on their smartphone with 10% having more than 40. [Visa]

60% of Gen Zs say “a lot of money” is a sign of success. [Deep Focus]

What are some general Gen Z issues/behaviours/values:

Social anxiety (mental health)

Racial equality

Gender identity

Self esteem

Political and social issues

Technology/ social media content

Personal beliefs and values in comparison to older generations

Speaking up/inner voice

Stress response

Optimistic attitude “it is what it is”

Three Campaign Ideas relatable to Gen Z demographic In Aotearoa:

(self expression)

gender identity / fashion & style / art & design / illustration / ink / skin art - tattoos

(self acceptance & confidence)

Body Image & Positivity / cultural roots / growth / well-being /

(cultural diversity)

Culture / tradition / ethnicity / foundation /

Research Gen z with self expression, self acceptance, and cultural diversity

WHAT DOES SELF-EXPRESSION REALLY MEAN TO GEN Z?https://www.havaspeople.com/project/what-does-self-expression-really-mean-to-gen-z/

We always knew that Gen Z would be distinctive. They are the first true digital natives, and grew up during times of uncertainty (the wake of the last financial crisis and Brexit in the UK). But over the last year the identity of this generation has been further shaped in a profound way as some of their most formative years are taking place against the backdrop of a global pandemic, with the significant interruptions that has wrought to school, university, and early working lives, as well as social connections. Gen Z were on the precipice of progress when COVID hit “pause” on life. And yet many Gen Zers are emerging as resilient, energized, and eager to express themselves and have their voices heard.

Rinsta (real) and Finsta (fake) social media accounts, often to keep certain aspects of their life hidden from family, potential employers, and others outside of their close social circles). Yet – on the whole – they trust the technology brands and platforms themselves.

69% of Gen Z believe that brands should make their stance on social and political issues known publicly. I believe this is what Gen Z mean by brand authenticity.

showing us that authenticity does not just mean having a clear point of view, but also using your clout as a brand to share and amplify the causes that matter to you.

showing your own alignment with the purpose and intent of a brand. Gen Z see the brands who they follow, ‘like’, and buy as a personal reflection of them as individuals, which is why they are prepared to pay more for brands that they believe support sustainability. If that’s how profoundly Gen Zers believe the impact of their consumer choices can affect the way they express themselves, it stands to reason that this will cut even deeper with regard to career choices, which is one of the reasons

This seems an important aspect of self-expression. Gen Z share a willingness to discuss issues in an open reflective way, and to seek out different opinions, which is one reason social channels are increasingly viewed as credible sources of news. To give another example, Gen Z are more comfortable talking about mental health issues than previous generations. While this can be attributed in part to the overall rise in awareness and acceptance of mental health issues over the last fifteen years, it is a noticeable shift from previous generations.

https://extremereach.com/blog/for-gen-z-consumption-is-about-self-expression/ “Consumption for this generation is an expression of individual identity.”

“Some people are angry and resentful because they feel like their voice isn’t heard, so clothing is a space where they can be self-governed.”

They’re experiencing brands in every corner of their online life and so these same “brands need to beware this generation’s discernment because they have a bloodhound-like nose for inauthenticity.”

We’ve been more empowered than ever, so why are Gen-Z the least confident generation yet? https://www.glamourmagazine.co.uk/article/gen-z-least-confident-generation

Indeed, statistics show that, instead of a defining feeling of hope among Gen Z, there is a groaning sense of pessimism - of hopelessness. Long running research from University College London, revealed earlier this year that depression levels are two-thirds higher than millennials. The study found 14.8 per cent of 14-year-olds in 2015 said they were depressed, compared to 9 per cent in 2005. While 14.4 per cent of young people said they had self-harmed, compared to 11.8 per cent a decade ago.

“I feel like Gen Z and millennials occupy a really interesting place in politics,” says Nogia, 20 “- we’ve only known austerity, we’ve only know casual work, we’ve only know life long sentences of debt for getting an education and we’re living in an age of populism and hatred in politics.”

So, is this having a detrimental effect on a generation’s mental health and personal confidence? Pretty much.

Youth Engagement Officer at YoungMinds, “Young people today have to navigate a huge range of pressures, from school or university stress, to worries over their career and housing prospects, to the rise of social media, which can make problems like bullying or body image issues more intense than they were in the past.”

Social media is - predictably - a major cause of generational anxiety. Not only is it connecting us to the world’s most depressing news stories, it is also connecting us to a plethora of airbrushed, Facetuned accounts making us feel terrible about ourselves. No wonder confidence is low.

Gen Z demands more diversity and inclusion from brands https://www.campaignlive.com/article/gen-z-demands-diversity-inclusion-brands/1705491

Gen Zers made clear throughout the study that they want brands to step up their efforts around representation. For example, 76% of Gen Zers said they feel diversity and inclusion is an important topic for brands to address, compared to 72% of millennials, 63% of Gen Xers and 46% of Baby Boomers who felt the same.

“Consumers don't want to see brands making an effort to be inclusive just for means of publicity,” said Jenna Stearns, researcher at quantilope and lead on the report. “They want to see something that's authentic and consistent.”

But brands that resonate most with Gen Z consumers are consistent in their support of social justice. Target, for example, has been vocal around LGBTQIA awareness and Pride month for years, said Steph Rand, senior research consultant at quantilope.

“These brands are rising to the top because they are sustaining and consistently making [these issues] a priority, either in their communications or around the content they produce,” Rand said.

Responses regarding representation also varied by race, gender and sexual orientation. Individuals responded they feel their gender is more represented in mainstream media (70% male; 66% female) and brand advertising (71% male; 68% female) than their sexual orientation or ethnicity.

In 2021, consumers hope to see more individuals with disabilities represented in advertising and media, as well as more authentic PR backed up by action.

Integrated Awareness Campaign Examples:

Self Expression Campaign example: https://www.lsnglobal.com/youth/article/24865/a-kombucha-campaign-that-celebrates-self-expression

Los Angeles – Health-Ade Kombucha’s latest campaign targets a new generation of health-conscious drinkers.

The campaign, You Brew You, introduces the brand’s new flavour and packaging concepts, as well celebrating the popularisation of kombucha. Diverging from traditional drinks advertising, it features a series of young models in bright clothing with colourful, neon-lit backdrops.

While kombucha brands tend to communicate in a way that focuses on health, wellness and fitness activities such as yoga, Health-Ade Kombucha is on a mission to change the image of the beverage and target a new generation of digitally-native consumers.

As the younger generation look to the future and consider how drinking impacts their health, they are turning towards soft drinks with additional health benefits. For more, explore the insight section of our macrotrend Anxiety Rebellion.

Self love/acceptance Campaign Example: https://fredandfar.com/blogs/ff-blog/banksy-made-me-do-it-transforming-everyday-ads-into-self-love-campaigns

This stunt can have multiple meanings, as Banksy often uses his art to comment on such structures as capitalism, power imbalances, and corruption.

Wrapped up in the Banksy frenzy ourselves, we started questioning art and its subjective worth. What makes art valuable? What qualifies as art? In what way can art be used or manipulated to impact our everyday lives? We live in a world saturated by advertisements, media and marketing targeting and manipulating us to be passive consumers. Thinking about what we are subjected to daily by multimillion dollar companies is eye opening, as is Banksy’s take on copyright laws and advertising.

Banksy urges, “any advert in a public space that gives you no choice whether you see it or not is yours. It's yours to take, re-arrange and re-use. You can do whatever you like with it. Asking for permission is like asking to keep a rock someone just threw at your head.”

So let’s take back the power. We got the ball rolling by taking some campaigns and slogans you might recognize, and turning them into campaigns for self love and acceptance.

Join us by creating your own better slogan and use the hashtag #banksymademedoit. What we need is more self love in the world. Let’s saturate the world with our mission.

Cultural Diversity Campaign Example: https://www.refuelagency.com/blog/examples-of-brands-who-got-multicultural-marketing-right/

Rihanna’s brand, Fenty, is all but synonymous with authentic inclusive marketing, created on the foundation that everyone woman is beautiful and should feel included. In 2017, Fenty Beauty launched 40 shades of foundation, and that has since grown to 50. Chaédria LaBouvier wrote in Allure that Fenty Beauty’s sheer number of foundation colors is “a statement that women of color deserve complex options”.

Rihanna shared that, “It’s important to me that every woman feel included in this brand.” Once this campaign launched, it had a ripple effect called “The Fenty Effect”, a movement calling for brands to challenge the status quo in advertising.

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living-in-the-state-of-dreaming · 5 years ago

Note

headcanons for yandere ryo (dmcb) stalking / kidnapping / playing mind games with his darling? (darling can be akira or reader or both, up to you!~) feel free to scrap this if the idea isn't motivating - it's so difficult to think of a good prompt for ryo ahaaa-

Indeed it is! x_x Honestly I was actually tempted to send in a request just for the sake of having more Yandere!Ryo stuff out there; but since this manipulative blonde is so difficult to pinpoint its hard thinking of prompts for him. I enjoyed writing this though and since I made a point to re-watch every single scene in DMCB that had Ryo in it I hope that I was able to capture his personality well enough. Thank you for the request though dear Vani-Ya and I sincerely hope that you enjoy it. ^~^ @vani-ya

The pic below belongs to: https://prawnm33.artstation.com/ otherwise known as Charmaine Lee.

Ryo Asuka

Emotions, his or the ones of others, are not something that Ryo has ever taken the time to think about; just as he has never been able to feel much of anything.

So when he notices these new and strange feelings and emotions that you were able to bring about inside of him, he thinks of it as an annoying distraction, if but an interesting one.

The first time he could recall feeling such a thing was when he glimpsed at the gentleness you held in your heart, one that was only matched by your compassion. It was one that was profoundly different from the many fake smiles that he had seen on so many faces and the cold and harsh winter that would come in the form of cruelty that humans were capable of showing.

This development that he felt within him is what pushes on his desire to analyze you and so begins his ‘ mission ‘ to learn all there is about you.

The ways that he does this are many. From searching through your Facebook and any social media that you were on; any records the public city archives had on you, to any other method that he can use for this purpose.

And given how good he was with his words, manipulating and deceiving a person and hacking into a system with his computer, he was able to do so quite easily.

He views your relationship as an experiment at first.

Keyword being ‘ At first ‘

The developments and results that he was getting, combined with the answers that only attained more questions for him was…Surprising and unexpected to say the least.

He had always been cold and apathetic to most, but as he came to learn more about you, the longer he spent with you caused you to gradually come to be one of the few people that he genuinely cared for and you were quickly becoming something far more than just an experiment, or a means to achieve an end.

Eventually, you grow to be the one whom he cares for more than anyone else.

And as such, he couldn’t help but come to feel a desire to protect you, even if he knew you likely only saw him as a friend.

There will be moments where Ryo will casually bring up something that you never recalled telling him, personal things, things that you would only tell your closest friends and loved ones. Of course, he sees’s this coming and if you ask, the answer that he gives sounds so honest and to the point that it’s difficult not to believe him and the reassuring smile that will be on his expression will only make not believing him more difficult.

“ Of course you told me, Y/N. We are friends after all. “

The things that he learns about you, be it traits of your personality to your relationship with him and the bond that he’s carefully constructed between you both will be things that he will use to manipulate you into doing exactly what he wants and he has no problem with lying or only telling you half-truths to make himself seem worthy of your trust.

Until you eventually come to not only trust him but to rely on him, as he intended.

As he wanted.

However, when you come to trust someone more than him, that is when his darker side begins to emerge and that one fact paves the way for other things that he is quick to notice as well. You’re compassion for others, your kind heart…At first, he had only seen you as an experiment, a test subject to discover why he was feeling these things for someone so naive with their good, kind nature, but now he wanted that heart for himself.

He never says this out loud, but he will feel himself becoming increasingly paranoid, especially when he notices how that man had been looking to your body like a barbaric and slobbering dog. At the same moment that he notices this, he doesn’t show it, but the possessive annoyance that he could feel was boiling with him and he doesn’t hesitate to threaten this dog later that night, finding his address was easy after all.

The next day the body is found in a bloody manner, the dogs brain now all over the walls but of course, he plays entirely innocent and only continues to work on his computer, while you respond with the emotions he knew would come over you; shock and horror, the horror being from the pictures that were currently flashing on the screen.

The same ones that he had placed on the dogs’ computer the previous night before leaving.

The methods and lengths that he will go in his self given mission in ‘ protecting you ‘ will be many but he doesn’t feel even the slightest hint of remorse for it. In fact, it’s incredibly disturbing how calm he can look even when he’s pulling off the most heinous and cruelest of things, as well as how little he hesitates.

But it’s all for you, that is what he continues to tell himself.

When his plan reaches the final phase, he can’t help but to be pleased with how well everything was going, until something causes worry to settle inside of Ryo and that comes with the email that popped up on his computer screen.

“ We need to talk. “

Reading the words cause him to panic but he discards it, assuming you had said that because you had wanted to talk, talking was something ‘ friends ‘ did frequently after all. But…No…There was something off about the way you phrased the words..And it was the way you said it that caused the worry and panic that he was feeling right now.

When you come over with a serious frown on your lips in place of that smile that he had come to enjoy and know so well, he instantly knew something was up

“ Have you been spying on me? “

At first, he doesn’t respond but in that silence his head is spinning around, formulating his next words carefully as he asks what you meant, playing it off as if he had no idea of what you were talking about and when you responded with your answer, the same irritation that he’d began to feel causes his eyes to narrow.

He couldn’t stand the idea of you relying on anyone else but him. He was the one who you should trust, not this friend of yours, in fact, you didn’t need this friend..No. He was all you needed. It was quite a shame you couldn’t see that yet.

Knowing that there was little sense lying to you when you had such a determined and stubborn look on your face, he admits to everything and how calm he looks while he’s admitting to all of the acts that he’s done is the most disturbing and unsettling part of it all.

“ Why? “

His smile returns at that question, one that was asked with so much fear that he could hear it seeping into your words

“ Because I wanted you for myself. It’s as simple as that. “

When you try to leave Jenny is standing in the way of the elevator, the look in her eyes only causing you to back away, a bit, while Ryo only sits at his computer, his eyes still on your trembling form. The smile still on his lips.

“ You have no need to be afraid Y/N, after all, you should know that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. “ this gentle reassurance is spoken mere moments before he looks back to his computer, fingers once again beginning to tap at the keys

“ Take her up to the spare room that was prepared earlier, she’s not to leave it without supervision. “

The protests and curses that you throw at him fall on deaf ears as you’re led off to the room that would come to be your cage.

And it’s a cage that you are in for days, the hidden camera’s set up within it watch your every move and he watches you on his computer as the cameras wirelessly connect to his laptop. Watching you in the confines of the room, he feels no remorse, but the satisfaction seems halfbaked, yes he wanted you to himself but the glare that you’d given him had diminished any real satisfaction that he might’ve been able to feel from it. That didn’t matter, however, as you had had no means of escaping that room, he’d made sure of it and hopefully, in time you would come to appreciate the efforts that he had gone to for you.

The isolation that you would be given within that room should be more than enough to change your mind.

After a long enough time, you would come to crave his attention, his affection, everything.

And if you didn’t then he would simply have to use other means to get you to comply.

In time you would learn that he was the only person you should rely on, the one that you should trust above anyone.

And for the first time, he felt himself anticipating something; and that was the arrival of that day.

#Yandere!Ryo Asuka x Reader #Yandere!Ryo/Satan x Reader #Devil Man Cry Baby

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the-trashy-phoenix · 4 years ago

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Supernatural season 7 review (part 1)

Link to part 2:

I think this season was a lot alike the first ones, maybe because of the amount of episodes representing small hunts that have nothing to do with the big plot (as episode 4, about the Egyptian god Osiris, 5, about witches, 7, about ghosts, 12, about the Greek god Cronus, 13, about the Amazons, 14, about Sam’s fear of creepy clowns, 15, about demons and so on), or also because the plot of the season, the Winchesters fighting against the villain of the season, was quite simple. I somehow appreciate the two features, and I will later explain why, but of course at this point of the show it’s kind of unnatural not to focus on bigger storylines.

I find the “single episodes” pretty original, but I can’t help thinking they’re only meant to increase the number of episodes and create at least 20 of them per season, and that the main storyline alone would’ve requested only at most half of them to get completed. I’d understand if the show wasn’t 15 seasons long, and if the authors didn’t force all the main action to take place in the very last episodes.

Season 7 has a quite plain main plot: the villain, Dick Roman (Latins would’ve said “nomen omen”, which means something like “someone’s name’s an omen”), the leader of Leviathans, plans to conquer the world by drugging and killing people through the food produced in his factories. It is clear that Sam and Dean have to stop him. As I was saying, for someone who’s used to complex plots, this season might result a bit boring, but for me it was even relaxing not having to keep too many details in mind.

Two of the main themes of the season are introduced already in the first episode, Leviathans, which are contained in Castiel’s body and are destined to come out and spread death, and Sam’s hallucinations, which will accompany him for a long time.

I just mentioned Leviathans, new creatures that appear right from Purgatory thanks to Castiel. We’ve left him at the end of season 6 and we meet him again as an arrogant and vengeful God. I found it quite strange that Castiel had become so mean, and even the Winchesters can’t understand his behaviour. It is kind of a lesson of how power can change people, but still at some point I found it incoherent with Cas’ personality, as he has always been so humble and kind to every human, especially to Sam and Dean, and as he suddenly asks for their forgiveness.

When Leviathans take over, Cas dies. It is a very painful moment, as every time someone dies through Supernatural, but it is as if the brothers are sorrowfully getting used to losing people and have so many problems to solve at the same time they don’t have any more mental energy to devote to process grief. They always carry an unbearable burden they never have time to mindfully focus on and that makes them so frustrated they’re often almost to the point of exploding.

This time Cas’ death is the least of their problems, as Leviathans are starting to kill and eat people at a hospital, and in addition they are invincible with the Winchesters’ usual weapons, and Lucifer is trying to take over Sam’s mind. We immediately get to know that Sam’s mental wall is broken, so that Lucifer can torment and play him. It is like Sammy can’t have rest from his demonic side and can’t get rid of it: Lucifer provides him with increasing hallucinations and pain. Dean and Bobby are really worried about him, but they have no clue on how to cure Sam, as it happens most of the time when one of the brothers is “supernaturally ill”.

However, despite all the odds they’ve been and are going through, Sam and Dean finally seem to be happy and comfortable with each other, but their dynamics get complicated in the third episode, when Dean kills Amy, a monster who’s Sam’s friend and has proven trustworthy, of course without telling his brother. The brothers’ relationship is a seesaw of continuous positive and negative moments, and when one of them does something like this I really doubt they’ve been able to build a solid bond based on trust. That is their biggest problem which keeps on coming out without ever being resolved: the typical pattern is that one of them does something he doesn’t want the other to know and the lie goes on until the truth is invariably revealed leading to endless fights (until one of them is severely ill or dead). Sam, Dean, don’t you see that’s how things always go? Wouldn’t it be easier and better and healthier for your relationship to always tell the truth, even if it hurts, because hiding it and knowing it later is by far more painful and problematic? I wonder if they’ll ever understand that, considering that, as they’re approximately the two of them alone against the entire world, it is stupid to keep on lying to each other.

Meanwhile, Bobby studies a Leviathan to find a way to kill him and Sam and Dean meet Frank, a weird old friend of Bobby’s who helps them create new identities, because two Leviathans in the shape of Sam and Dean are committing crimes all over the country. Finally Bobby and the brothers find out that the monsters aren’t as invincible as they seemed to be at first, because they can be slowed down by cutting their head or by burning them with some chemicals.

The mid-turning point of the season is episode 9: the three find out about Dick Roman and his plans, which they try to stop by entering into one of his food factories, where Bobby is captured. I wasn’t worried at all about that, because the Winchesters and Bobby always go through difficult situations, and that one wasn’t surely worse than other times. That’s why Bobby’s death occurred so unexpectedly and hurt a lot more than all the others in Supernatural. An entire episode, the tenth, is devoted to the exploration of Bobby’s mind in his last moments of life, where he’s accompanied by Rufus through his happiest memories. We have an extraordinary view of Bobby’s existence, with his parents and his wife, and of course the brothers. Even in this highly pathetic moment we experience Bobby’s deep bond with his adopted children: he spends his last breath and forces to communicate a fundamental information he’s discovered to defeat Dick. This was really the solemn ending moment, as if the ultimate meaning of Bobby’s life was giving everything, his knowledge, his love and his life, to Sam and Dean, having been loyal to them since forever. As you may see, Bobby’s death really broke my heart: I thought of him as a nearly immortal character, who would have been by the brothers’ side until the end. As it was predictable, this event has massive consequences to the plot and particularly to the Winchesters (by the way, it is extremely meaningful that they seem to be much more scattered than when John died). They face their grief the only way they know, working cases and gathering information on Dick to avenge Bobby. Unfortunately, they lose another precious ally on their way: as a matter of fact Frank gets killed by Leviathans, which was sad both because he had helped a lot Dean in tracking Dick and because he was quite fun and a nice presence in the season.

As if all that trouble wasn’t enough, Sam’s visions of Lucifer become more and more frequent and painful, while Dean can’t find a way to help him. The brothers have to face everything at the same time: the fight against Dick, Bobby’s death and Sam’s mental instability, which is destroying him and Dean at the same time, as what happens to one of them affects even more painfully the other. In addition, another worry comes out: Dean finds out Castiel is alive and has lost all his memories about who he is and what he has done. Dean at first can’t really forgive him, but when Cas gets to have his memories back, he can’t resist his stubborn hate toward his “friend” and finally decides to erase God-Cas parenthesis, also because the angel is so guilty he offers himself to take over Sam’s hallucinations. It is a noble sacrifice which allows the brothers to go back to hunting Dick and establish a new degree of friendship and trust between team free will, after the painful moment of Cas’ death. I think both getting rid of Lucifer and gaining back Castiel give the brothers the hope they need to succeed in defeating Dick, after the previous single episodes of impasse.

In the ending episodes another surprise awaits Sam and Dean: Bobby, as a ghost, manages to communicate with them and makes himself visible, giving start to a weird dynamic where he still helps the brothers as he did when he was alive, but using his ghost powers. This situation leaves in the protagonists and in the viewer a sense of bitter illusion, as everyone knows it can’t end well, as Bobby’s destined to become a vengeful spirit, like any other ghost, and when the moment comes they would have to kill him again, and, doing so, renewing their pain. This kind of “second death” was quite sadistic, but still I appreciated Bobby’s comeback as it was right to give more space to such an important character and explore the afterlife from a different point of view. From the first time we profoundly feel ghosts’ frustration of being isolated from living people and we can easily put ourselves in their shoes, as they’re no more depicted merely as a cruel monster.

I think this process could be included in the new connotation of supernatural creatures that emerges from these seasons on: the absolute dichotomy good-evil which imposes that monsters can only be bad is a bit more flexible (and along with it, also the Winchesters become more and more open minded) and gives space to complex characters and personalities which can’t be defined univocally. The best example of this change of tone is Meg. I really appreciated the growth of the character from season 1, where she seems to be an ordinary demon, to seasons 6 and 7, where she’s developed as a proper round character, an outsider from both demonic and human worlds: here she keeps helping the Winchesters, presenting herself as a good ally against Dick and Crowley and at same time preserving her typical bad bitch attitude. She leaves us a striking message, volunteering to look after Castiel at the hospital while the boys are busy fighting Dick: the strict first seasons determinism is definitely gone, also demons can make decisions using their free will and change the order of things, fighting side to side with the good guys. This kind of sympathy for the brothers can be noticed also in Crowley at some point, as he helps them with the spell to defeat Leviathans, but of course there’s no doubt his only interest is to use Sam and Dean to fight a common enemy.

Moreover, season 7, marked by many painful deaths, is certainly also productive of new characters destined to become permanent for some time. Besides two appearances of Jody, one of the rare positive and strong female figures of the show, who is now occasionally helping the brothers in their hunts, and one of Becky, which gives us one of the funniest episodes of the season, where she makes Sam falling in love with her thanks to a potion and marries him, three new important characters are presented.

First of all Garth, a weird and clumsy hunter, helps Dean in episode 8 (while Sam is married to Becky): after the initial skepticism, he becomes one of their most trusted friends. I find the relationship between Garth and the boys so cute, as they kind of protect him by teaching him what they know about monsters and in return he tries very hard to be accepted in their team and to do whatever he can to help them.

At the end of the season we meet another young male character, Kevin, a normal kid who studies and has dreams about his career, but gets absorbed by the supernatural world as he is chosen as a prophet of the Lord. His skill is to be able to read some tablets containing the Word of God and fundamental knowledge about angels, demons and other creatures (thanks to one of those tablets Sam and Dean get to know how to kill Leviathans). Kevin is such a lovely guy, at first really confused, as every human would be in his situation, and as well hopeful that the nightmare he finds himself into without having a choice would end quickly. We know, as well as the Winchesters, that things like this never end and once you’re trapped in the supernatural world it is forever, and that’s why we feel pitiful and protective towards Kevin. Seen from Sam and Dean’s perspective, he’s another innocent person they have to look after and feel guilty for even if nothing about it is their fault. Kevin is one of those characters that make one doubt about the real existence of free will and self determination, especially for someone who’s devoted to high purposes in the economy of the show.

Last but not least, the end of season 7 sees the appearance of one of the undoubtedly best characters in Supernatural, Charlie. She becomes a fundamental part of the plan of defeating Dick thanks to her great computer skills, but, more importantly, she quickly becomes Sam and Dean’s friend and one of their best allies in some of their hunts. I really loved her as a character and in her interactions with the brothers, as from the very beginning they seem to see her as their little sister. She also brings into the show a small (but still great and quite unexpected) insight on the lgbt community, being overtly lesbian. I loved how Dean in particular was at ease knowing this information, and the fact that the authors seem to get more in step with the times, as the ideas of slight misogyny and toxic masculinity and heterosexuality of the first seasons can’t fit anymore in recent years. It is so interesting to see how the show grows in time through its characters and their complex psychology and personality, even if there’s still a long road ahead in terms of equality and representation.

I have the feeling that this season goes through three changes in mood, the first half (and a bit more) being quite problematic and full of sad events and the last part presenting some positive characters who guarantee hope for the finale. The last episode is a mixture of the two sides, as Dick is happily defeated, but his death has a price: Dean and Cas are sent directly to Purgatory with Leviathans. So the episode ends with our favourite couple having to deal with the third mysterious realm of afterlife (we’ve already been to both Heaven and Hell) and its dangerous monsters.

- Irene ��

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themachiavellianpig · 5 years ago

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“I’m Telling My Story”: Ainsley Whitly, The Prodigal Daughter

Throughout the first half of season one, we can see a great deal of how Martin Whitly’s actions affected his wife and son, both of whom are still actively struggling with the guilt of having been in some way intimate with such a man. Ainsley, in contrast, seems relatively unaffected by the situation and even describes herself as “lucky” in comparison to her brother- she is at least five years younger than Malcolm and seems to remember little of her father, giving her a significant emotional disconnection from his crimes. In direct contrast to her brother, she can hold down a steady job, engage in close relationships, and doesn’t appear to be in any kind of therapy. Unlike her mother, she isn’t even shown to be self-medicating in any way - she simply does not seem to need such coping methods.

This relative stability is a gift, one for which Jessica explicitly gives herself credit: “Do you sleep at night? ...When you close your eyes, do you find peace? That peace is because of the choices I made. You can thank me any time you like.” (1x03)

And it’s a gift which, arguably, Ainsley squanders over the course of the first half of season 1.

“I don’t remember my dad. I was forbidden.” In the first ten episodes of Prodigal Son, we get to see some of the time immediately before and after Martin’s arrest, all from either Malcolm’s or Jessica’s point of view. We see nothing at all of Ainsley, except for a brief shot of her being held by her mother during Martin’s arrest. Given that Ainsley was only five years old at the time, this is admittedly unsurprising. Her memories of that time, so far as we know, are limited to Malcolm’s reassurances (“I was only five when Dad was arrested, I don’t really remember it. But I remember you. Telling me everything was going to be okay when you knew it wasn’t.”, 1x01).

But she would certainly remember what happened afterwards, in the twenty years between Martin’s arrest and the first episode of Prodigal Son. We do not know exactly how Malcolm and Ainsley grew up following Martin’s arrest, but we can make certain deductions.

Malcolm, as the person who discovered Martin’s true identity, as the one who was clearly and obviously traumatised by the discovery, would likely have been the focus of Jessica’s attention - in the same way that any child in crisis would be. Jessica’s active concern for Malcolm continues into the present day, clearly signposted in the first episode: Malcolm: “I assume you don’t break into Ainsley’s place like this.” Jessica: “God, no! She’s perfect. You’re my only concern.”

Additionally, we know that Martin Whitly, perfectly understandably, becomes something of a ghost in his former home. All reminders of him are packed away - there are no photos of him, his private study in the basement is walled up and forgotten, leading Malcolm to hide certain reminders of happier times in a shoebox under his bed. We don’t know exactly how Jessica navigates this particular transition from well-to-do nuclear family to tabloid fodder - how she told Ainsley the truth about her father or, quite frankly, if she ever did explicitly. Did Martin become something which simply was not spoken of in polite company, or indeed any company at all?

Ainsley’s choice of words in 1x03 (“I was forbidden”) suggests a harsher line than simple silence, potentially indicating that questions about Martin were not only frowned upon but actively discouraged. Martin Whitly, loving father, was gone for good; the Surgeon was all that remained, and the Surgeon was not to be discussed. As early as 1x03, Ainsley even says that she has no idea what being back in contact with Martin will do to her brother’s mental health because she has no knowledge of who or what Martin Whitly really is.

Just like Malcolm and Jessica, Ainsley seems to be struggling with having a connection to a monster. Regardless of the fact that she doesn’t remember having a familial relationship with Martin, he is her biological father - and if her mother and brother can’t give her the answers that she needs about him, she’s going to go straight to the source instead.

“Martin Whitly is your biggest fan.” Ainsley’s decision to meet with Martin in episode four is prompted, I would argue, by a combination of curiosity and, let’s be fair, the sort of spite that springs up when a controlling parent tells you not to do something - after all, she only goes to visit Martin after both her mother and her brother have done the same thing, all while maintaining that nobody should ever go and speak to the Surgeon. But I find it very interesting that she only makes the decision to visit him after her mother lets slip a brand new piece of information:

Ainsley: Thanks to both of you, he doesn’t even know I exist. Jessica: He knows all about you. He watches you every day. He daughter, the ace reporter. Martin Whitly is your biggest fan.

This information, it should be noted, is only news to Ainsley. We, the audience, see Martin watching one of Ainsley’s broadcasts in 1x02; in episode 1x03, he asks Malcolm to “Please tell your sister that her diction is impeccable!” and, in the same episode, he compliments Jessica on her excellent childrearing (“You did well, Jessica. I am so proud of him, and of Ainsley, and of you, for raising our beautiful children.”).

And, from my perspective, this information is also profoundly creepy. A convicted serial killer obsessively watches all of a homicide journalist’s broadcasts? That’s a two-parter of Criminal Minds right there.

But to Ainsley it’s a link, a connection, to a part of her life which she has never really been allowed to engage with. The trauma of Martin Whitly is written large on her mother and brother, but her trauma is second-hand and reactionary, which is admittedly a great improvement on the alternative, but would Ainsley see it that way? All children want to do is feel like they belong, and being the one left out - even the one left out of trauma - is never pleasant.

Now, through an offhand comment from her mother, Ainsley knows that her father is interested in her, and in her work - in direct contrast to her mother, who supports her work idly, never really watching her reports (“Not with the sound on!”, 1x01), who finally starts to tell her something real about her father and his opinion of her and then immediately tries to shut the conversation down (“Can we please talk about something else?”, 1x04).

And so Ainsley heads off to see her father for the first time in twenty years.

“You made him out to be just a monster.” We, the audience, had a full two weeks to wait between seeing Ainsley in Martin’s cell and hearing anything of the conversation that they shared, which was genuinely one of the most infuriating cliff-hangers I’ve seen for a while.

The meeting with Martin undoubtedly rattles Ainsley, albeit not in the way she expected. As Jessica points out, Ainsley went to that cell to meet a monster, and instead found a seemingly loving father (1x06). A man who regretted his absences in his daughter’s life and had filled the gaps with daydreams of “birthdays, piano recitals, dancing with [her] at the debutante ball” (1x06), daydreams in which, judging by the fantasies shared with Ainsley, he plays the starring role of Devoted Father. This conversation could have been repeated between any father-daughter duo separated in television plotlines around the world - the cause of that separation is so overlooked by Martin’s little fantasy to be actually hilarious.

And, by this point in the series, we’ve seen both Malcolm and Jessica be taken in by Martin’s acts, not to mention all the people that Martin had fooled during his days as an active serial killer, so it’s hardly surprising that Ainsley is at least a little taken in as well. The split between Martin-the-father and Martin-the-serial-killer is also one that has preoccupied Jessica and Malcolm throughout the twenty-years and it’s one that Ainsley, through her lack of memories about Martin, has been spared up until the moment she comes face to face with him, and asks him the “most important question”: ” “Was it real? … Did you love us or was it just some psychopathic act?”

The surviving members of the Whitly family may never really know the answer to that question - and it’s a question which has no easy answers. Which would truly be worse - being an unwilling cover story for a monster, or genuinely being loved by a monster?

But, for Ainsley, the question is no longer about what her relationship with Martin was; it’s about what it could be - or, more precisely, about what it could do for her.

“Ambition is not a dirty word.” The decision to interview Martin is one which, full disclosure, makes perfect sense from a professional point of view; an interview with a notorious serial killer, particularly one who had never spoken publicly about his crimes before, would be a feather in the cap of any crime journalist. She is also arguably the best choice to conduct such an interview from a creepy mercenary perspective - her familial relationship to the Surgeon gives the interview a sensationalist angle which would be impossible for any other network to easily duplicate - and, unlike the rest of her family, Ainsley has not yet been traumatised by Martin Whitly.

Of course, it's the ‘yet' in that last sentence that has Jessica and Malcolm so worried about Ainsley - her visiting Martin might be less immediately damaging that Malcolm or Jessica coming face to face with their own personal demon, but it's still very unlikely to be healthy.

Interestingly, Malcolm's concerns about the interview seem to be extremely focused on Ainsley's immediate personal safety ("You’re putting yourself in his cross hairs"), and his reaction on learning that she's already seen Martin is to ask if she is okay. Jessica, as the only member of the family who really remembers the immediate media aftermath of Martin's arrest, becomes far more focused on the potential PR concerns:

Jessica: Ainsley, if you do not have a plan to make him look bad, he will look good. Tell me you understand. Ainsley: Mother, these are the questions I sent. Not the questions I’m going to ask. Jessica: Alright. I see what you’re doing. Ainsley: Good. Can you stop worrying? Jessica: I am far more worried now. Ainsley: What? Why? Jessica: Thinking you are more clever than Martin Whitley, that’s the worst mistake you can make. He’ll exploit that. He’ll find a way to come off sympathetic and you will be sitting there like- Ainsley: Like what? Jessica: His accomplice.

Jessica, as we learn later in the season, was herself questioned by the police about her role in Martin's crimes, and I am sure that the media speculation around the Wife of the Surgeon would have been horrific and heartbreaking. She clearly does not want Ainsley to put herself through the same thing - and she certainly does not want Martin to have any opportunity to manipulate the wider population, as he has so easily manipulated his own family in the past.

This is not to say that Jessica has no concern for Ainsley's safety - her immediate reaction to the potential interview is to get the entire thing blacklisted by the network itself. It's only when Ainsley reveals a willingness to outplay her mother at that particular chess game that she relents - not to give her blessing, but to step back and allow Ainsley the dignity of her own choices.

And, potentially, Ainsley does take some of her mother's fears seriously - she insists on keeping Martin in his restraints during the interview, despite technical concerns from Jin the Cameraman, and she makes sure that the red safety line on the cell floor is in shot. She even refuses Hair and Makeup the chance to make Martin look anymore physically presentable before the interview begins.

The interview itself, however, does not go exactly as Ainsley had clearly wanted it to - first, Martin neatly sidesteps her attempts to throw past crimes in his face, then her brother interrupts with police business, then her cameraman gets stabbed. All in all, hardly a good day at the office.

The interplay between Martin and Ainsley hashes out the timeless question of what really makes a person - Ainsley focuses on the lives her took, complete with grisly details ("Billy Franklin, age 23. Aced his LSATs, wanted to become a civil rights lawyer. You removed his heart to see how long he could live without it. He died a gruesome, agonising death. My question is why?", 1x07), Martin fights backs with the lives he saved ("How about Corey Goldstein, age 10? A brutal car accident left him with a surely fatal aortic rupture. Until he landed in my OR, where I saved his life.") and the medical procedures he developed ("Did you know they named a medical procedure after me? ...I’ve heard a rumour that doctors still call it the Whitley, in hospitals all around the world", 1x07).

It's a far more complicated portrayal of evil that Ainsley had prepared for - she has no good response prepared for the accusation that Martin did some good in the world, unlike her pithy retorts about particular victims and what Martin did to them. We don't get the chance to see if Ainsley would have been able to retake control of the interview, given Malcolm's interruption, as his arrival gives Ainsley a very different line of attack - the only line of attack, it must be said, that ever seems to really rattle Martin. Ainsley is the only character in the first part of season 1 to really get under Martin's skin - but she can only do it by using her own brother as bait:

Ainsley: So. I mentioned a number of your victims earlier, but I’d like to discuss one more. Malcolm. Malcolm Whitly. Martin: I’m not sure I understand Ainsley: You claim to care about your son, but what you did twenty years ago harmed him irreparably. Martin: Well, that’s not true. Ainsley: Isn’t it? He’s been diagnosed with complex PTSD, generalised anxiety disorder, night terrors. Dr Whitley, do you know what happens to the human body when it withstands that much stress for that long a period of time? Martin: I’m not sure that’s relevant- Ainsley: He was fired from the only job he was ever good at. He hasn’t been in a stable relationship for years. And the ten years he went without seeing you were by far the happiest, healthiest of his life. Martin: Well, that’s absolutely not- Ainsley: What does that say about you, except for you’re an absolutely terrible father? Martin: I’m not. Ainsley: He just wanted to love you. And you caused him so much pain. Martin: Stop it. Ainsley: What kind of a father does that? Martin: Stop it! I was a good father, damn it!

This interaction goes on to form a crucial part of the interview - Martin's loss of control is featured in the introduction to the actual broadcast (as seen in 1x10) - and it was not at all discussed with Malcolm beforehand. We, the audience, are not entirely clear on how much information Martin had about his son's condition prior to Ainsley’s disclosure- he would have known some things, noticed symptoms such as the hand tremor, but that is still potentially miles away from Malcolm's having his mental health history spelt out like that in front of Martin and, potentially, in front of everyone who watched Ainsley's interview.

It's a successful and potentially satisfying manipulation of Martin, to be sure, but it's also a heart-wrenching violation of Malcolm, and Ainsley never seems to notice.

In a matter of hours, Ainsley double-downs on the notion of violating the privacy of others when she films Martin perform surgery on Jin the Cameraman, stabbed in the patient-uprising which Martin himself engineered. We never get to see Malcolm's reaction to his violation - he doesn't seem to challenge Ainsley on it directly in any way - but Jin does (1x08). Jin, when he wakes in the hospital to find that Ainsley filmed the surgery and didn't tell him about it, has a very simple and understandably reaction.

Jin: What is this? You filmed my surgery? Ainsley: I was going to tell you. I just- I- I- I got so caught up in the adrenaline and it was so compelling- Jin: Oh, was it? Was it compelling when I almost died? Ainsley: We went there to get a great story and we got one. I was doing my job! Jin: I understand. This is who you are. I just don’t think that’s the kind of person that I want to be with.

And Ainsley doesn’t try to apologise to her boyfriend, or try to explain herself any further - she leaves Jin in the hospital, taking the interview footage with her instead.

“I’m telling my story!” The interview, despite the various dramas around it all, is eventually broadcast. Thanks to Jessica’s well-thrown shoe (seriously), we never get to see the interview in its entirety (which is a great shame, seeing as we only see Ainsley get a few minutes of usable footage in 1x07), but we do get to see the introduction: “Dr Martin Whitley murdered 23 people as the Surgeon, making him one of the world’s most deadly serial killers. I’m Ainsley Whitley for American Direct News and the Surgeon is my father.”

The clips that we see include Martin's lose of control at being called a terrible father, which strongly implies that at least some of the section concerning Malcolm was kept in; we have no idea if the footage of Jin was used, although I'm assuming that he would have had to give permission for his own surgery to be shown on national television and, given his reaction in the hospital to the footage, I'm equally comfortable assuming that he would not have given such permission.

While Malcolm tries to watch the interview, possibly to support his sister, possibly to torture himself futher, Jessica is adament that she will not. Her initial plan seems to have been to pretend that it never happened; she only speaks to Ainsley about it when Ainsley pushes past her joking “no comment” to challenge Jessica on her perceived lack of support for her daughter's professional accomplishment.

This pushes Jessica to have perhaps the most genuine and honest conversation with her daughter about Martin and their past which they had ever had (1x10): Jessica: Your father destroyed us. Your brother and me. You put him on television and let him talk about it. You have gone and soaked yourself in blood. The press devoured us twenty years ago, and now they are at it again.

This information is given calmly, perhaps even dispassionately: for Jessica, the destruction of herself and her son is a simple matter of fact. Not to be spoken of, of course, but ever-present and utterly undeniable. She does not even become angry until Ainsley accuses her of "playing the victim": "I am not a victim! But there are victims. Real ones. How do you think those twenty-three families feel when they see you on television? And why is the story never about them?"

The story is not about them, of course, because for Ainsley, the story is currently about her. Ainsley's newfound 'ownership' over the Surgeon story is clearly spelled out in the interview's introduction ("the Surgeon is my father"), her reaction to the paparazzi outside her mother's home ("Any breaking news about my family is mine to report") and, finally, in her retort to Jessica's challenges over the entire interview: "I'm telling my story!"

But, as we've discussed earlier, Ainsley doesn't actually have a story with the Surgeon. In the real-crime biography of Martin Whitley, she's a footnote at best. Jessica, who married a monster, Malcolm, who unveiled a monster, the twenty-three or more people who died at the Surgeon's hands, the hundreds of people, including Jin, who had their lives saved by the Surgeon, they all have a story with the Surgeon. Ainsley simply does not. And in her attempts to create one during the first half of season 1, she only really gets anywhere when she uses the stories of others - her casual retelling of the horrific things the victims went through, her reveal of Malcolm's mental health diagnoses, her filming Jin's surgery.

Ainsley’s lack of personal connection to the Surgeon was her greatest asset in a very broken family at the beginning of the series; her attempt to create such a narrative when none organically existed has been the cause of pain for plenty of people other than herself.

All that remains to be seen is how this narrative - either genuine or manufactured - continues to develop in the second half of season 1.

#prodigal son #ainsley whitly #character profile #halston sage #themachiavellianpig overthinks

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Doctor Who: Why Does Everyone Keep Forgetting the Daleks?

https://ift.tt/3g81nbE

A scene that did not appear in New Year’s Day’s Doctor Who Special, ‘Revolution of the Daleks’.

SCENE: EXT. 10 DOWNING STREET, A PRESS CONFERENCE IS BEING HELD

PRIME MINISTER JO PATTERSON: …and so I introduce to you, our new, fully automated defence drones!

A “DEFENCE DRONE” GLIDES INTO VIEW.

JOURNALIST (RAISES A HAND): Hello, Jeff Typeface, Daily Exposition. Sorry but, um, isn’t that just a Dalek?

PM: A what?

JOURNALIST: A Dalek? About twelve years ago they transported the entire planet through space then rounded humans up in the streets and exterminated them?

PM: Hmmm. Doesn’t ring a bell.

ANOTHER JOURNALIST: Yeah, and a few years before that a bunch of them came flying out of Canary Wharf?

PM: Sorry, I’m completely drawing a blank.

JOURNALIST: Come on! They murdered one of your predecessors!

PM: Excuse me, but you can’t honestly expect me to remember every single British Prime Minister that suffered a violent death over the last two decades. We all know this job has the life expectancy of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

PM’S ADVISOR: Actually, Prime Minister, talking of your predecessors, Winston Churchill did try this exact same plan with a very similar looking contraption during the War, and I hear that went badly.

PM: I mean, I’m sure I believe you. I’m just saying this is all news to me.

JOURNALIST: Very well. Moving on, how will these “Defence Drones” help us deal with the Covid-19 pandemic?

PM: See, now you’re just making words up.

Doctor Who has always been a series that points and laughs at fans who want to try and piece together a consistent continuity across all its stories, but even by Doctor Who standards, forgetting an entire global invasion barely more than a decade ago (y’know, just before most of the show’s viewers were born, you absolute fossil you) might seem like a stretch.

Of course, the real reason Jo Patterson couldn’t remember the Daleks is that unlike say, the MCU, where weirdness layers upon weirdness to create a world that almost counts as alt-history, Doctor Who is, on some level, always reaching to be set in “our” universe. The key conceit of the show is that you might turn a corner, find a blue box, and suddenly be whisked away through space and time to a world of adventure. Which doesn’t really work if the British town squares of the Doctor Who universe all feature memorials to the victims of the Daleks and diet pills have to be tested for Adipose DNA.

But at the same time, Doctor Who just loves a great big Hollywood space invasion, and making these two core ingredients of the show mesh is a nightmare for continuity.

Let’s, for instance, take a look at the life of recently departed Doctor’s companion, Ryan Sinclair.

Life of Ryan

Ryan was born in 1998 or 1999. As a child, he attended Redlands Primary School at around the same time London was hit by a “terrorist attack” when shop windows dummies started shooting people. A year later a spaceship crashed into Big Ben, although this was later dismissed as a hoax. That Christmas Day, when Ryan was around eight years old, every human with O negative blood got up in a trance and went and stood on a tall building while a gigantic spaceship hung over London.

Still Ryan is a kid, he doesn’t watch the news, maybe nobody in his family is O negative and let’s face it, news of a lot of this stuff probably doesn’t get as far as Sheffield.

However, even in Sheffield he would have seen the regular “ghost shifts” that appeared all over the world, and at nine years old he would have been traumatised to have his home, like so many others, invaded by Cybermen before they all got sucked away by something.

His family make the wise decision not to turn on the news that Christmas, so he doesn’t hear about the “Christmas star” attack, or later that year a hospital being teleported to the moon, and while he probably remembers grown-ups getting very excited by Harold Saxon getting elected, fortunately most of his tenure as Prime Minister was erased from history.

Doctor Who: Which New Doctors Are Now Canon?

By Chris Farnell

Doctor Who: the genius of making the Cybermen an ideology

By Chris Farnell

Ryan would have noticed when CBBC was replaced by a giant eyeball shouting that “Prisoner Zero Has Escaped”, and, shortly after turning ten, he definitely would have noticed when the entire sky was set on fire to prevent a Sontaran invasion.

And then of course, the Earth was teleported across space, planets filled the skies, and Daleks roamed the streets rounding people up. He would have been about the same age as future astronaut and Mars colonist, Adelaide Brooke at this time, and she was profoundly affected by the experience.

After that it’s possible the government may have rounded up him and his classmates to offer up to the 456.

To round the year off, Ryan actually turned into Harold Saxon for a bit. This was probably, on balance, the worst Christmas of the lot.

2011 was largely uneventful except that nobody could die.

Ryan went on to see the Tenth Doctor light the flame at the 2012 Olympics, was briefly into that whole “mysterious black cubes” craze before they got banned for some reason, and while he was in high school the entire Earth was covered in dense forest overnight but that disappeared, and nobody ever mentioned it again. The Cybermen invaded again. Then, not long after Ryan left school, the entire world was taken over by a species of really gross looking mummified monks who claimed to have always been in charge, before they also disappeared overnight.

Not long after that, Ryan met the Doctor for the first time and was shocked, shocked, to discover that aliens exist.

Cracks in Time

Steven Moffat did give us one handy explanation for why nobody in Doctor Who remembers the Dalek invasion, or the giant steampunk Cyberman that invaded Victorian London, and probably much more. In ‘Victory of the Daleks’ the Doctor tries to persuade Winston Churchill that using his own force of Daleks to secure the country was a bad idea, and he turns to Amy, who would have seen that invasion, to back him up. She has no idea what’s he’s talking about.

Later it’s revealed this is because the TARDIS explodes, destroying the entire universe with it. The cracks in time left by that explosion erased all kinds of events from history, including, handily, anything that would cause the human view of the universe to deviate too far from the real-world status quo.

Of course, that does leave some problems. Adelaide Brooke, again, clearly remembers the Dalek invasion and it was a moment so formative and influential on her eventual Fixed Point In Time that even the Dalek she saw (who, I remind you, was working on a plot to destroy literally all existence) didn’t dare exterminate her because of its influence on the timeline. And since it’s not implied the crack in time could bring anyone back from the dead, it does make you wonder what history says happened to Harriet Jones (former Prime Minister) and all the many others killed by the Daleks.

But maybe you don’t need a giant retconning Crack in Time?

Because while the Doctor has often waxed lyrical about humanity being indomitable, creative, and curious, there is also a lesser innate human quality the Doctor sometimes mentions: our absent-mindedness.

The Forgetfulness of the Daleks

As well as the Dalek incursions in ‘The Stolen Earth’ and ‘The Army of Ghosts’, there was another Dalek visitation of Earth in the ironically named ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’, which was set in 1963. During this adventure then-companion Ace points out she doesn’t remember anything about Daleks invading in the 1960s. The Doctor replies, “Do you remember the Zygon gambit with the Loch Ness Monster? Or the Yeti in the Underground? Your species has an amazing capacity for self-deception.”

Likewise, nobody remembers dinosaurs invading London, or the other time shop window dummies came to life and started killing people, or when the Earth encountered its exact twin. Without any cracks in time hanging around, Doctor Who falls back on an old staple of fantasy and sci-fi- that humans just ignore anything that doesn’t fit into their worldview.

As we’ve already mentioned, this turns up a couple of times in the new series as well. In ‘In the Forest of the Night’, the entire planet is overnight covered in forest for reasons that we’re not going to go into too closely because that story’s a bit of an embarrassment to be honest. As the forest disappears at the end of the story the Doctor says it will be forgotten outside of fairy stories, because that’s “a human superpower”.

It can even work two-way. In ‘The Lie of the Land’, the entire Earth is taken over by the gross-looking and mysterious “monks”. Using a psychic link, the monks convince humanity that not only are they humanity’s generous benefactors, but also that the monks have always been here, guiding human evolution. This is of course a lie, as the monks are actually one of the very few aliens not to have guided human evolution at some point.

After the Doctor does his thing and the monks’ statues are torn down, someone passes by the ruins of one and wonders what it was. Already, people are forgetting.

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Which, if you think about it, is a Doctor Who story in itself. Imagine being an alien visiting Earth. Humanity must seem like the Silence, but in reverse- as soon as they stop looking at you they forget you exist. The Doctor really ought to take a look at that some time.

The post Doctor Who: Why Does Everyone Keep Forgetting the Daleks? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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live-long-and-time-warp · 5 years ago

Text

EXCERPTS FROM GORBACHEV'S SPEECH ON CHERNOBYL ACCIDENT

Excerpts from Gorbachev’s first public speech on the disaster at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant following 18 days of radio silence.

Following are excerpts from Mikhail S. Gorbachev's television address tonight on the Chernobyl nuclear accident, as distributed in translation by the Soviet press agency Tass:

Good evening, comrades.

As you all know, a misfortune has befallen us - the accident at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant. It has painfully affected Soviet people and caused the anxiety of the international public. For the first time ever we encountered in reality such a sinister force as nuclear energy that has escaped control. So what did happen? As specialists report, the reactor's capacity suddenly increased during a scheduled shutdown of the fourth unit. The considerable emission of steam and subsequent reaction resulted in the formation of hydrogen, its explosion, damage to the reactor and the associated radioactive release.

It is yet early to pass final judgment on the causes of the accident. All aspects of the problem - design, projecting, operation and technical -are under the close scrutiny of the Government commission.

It goes without saying that when the investigation of the accident is completed, all the necessary conclusions will be drawn and measures will be taken ruling out a repetition of anything of this sort.

'Seriousness of the Situation'

The seriousness of the situation was obvious. It was necessary to evaluate it urgently and competently. And as soon as we received reliable initial information it was made available to Soviet people and sent through diplomatic channels to the governments of foreign countries.

In the situation that had taken shape, we considered it our top priority duty, a duty of special importance to insure the safety of the population and provide effective assistance to those who had been affected by the accident.

The inhabitants of the settlement near the station were evacuated within a matter of hours and then, when it had become clear that there was a potential threat to the health of people in the adjoining zone, they also were moved to safe areas.

Nevertheless, the measures that were taken failed to protect many people. Two died at the time of the accident - Vladimir Nikolayevich Shashenok, an adjuster of automatic systems, and Valery Ivanovich Khodemchuk, an operator at the nuclear power plant.

As of today 299 people were in hospital diagnosed as having radiation disease of varying degree of gravity. Seven of them have died. Every possible treatment is being given to the rest. The best scientific and medical specialists of the country, specialized clinics in Mosow and other cities are taking part in treating them and have at their disposal the most modern means of medicine.

On behalf of the Communist Party Central Committee and the Soviet Government, I express profound condolences to the families and relatives of the deceased, to the work collectives, to all who have suffered from this misfortune, who have suffered personal loss. The Soviet Government will take care of the families of those who died and who suffered.

A stern test has been passed and is being passed by all - firemen, transport and building workers, medics, special chemical protection units, helicopter crews and other detachments of the Ministry of Defense and the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

I must say that people have acted and are continuing to act heroically, selflessly. I think we will yet have an opportunity to name these courageous people and assess their exploit worthily.

The most serious consequences have been averted. Of course, the end is not yet. It is not the time to rest. Extensive and long work still lies ahead. The level of radiation in the station's zone and on the territory in the immediate vicinity still remains dangerous for human health.

Thanks Foreign Scientists

I cannot fail to mention one more aspect of that affair. I mean the reaction abroad to what happened at Chernobyl. In the world on the whole, and this should be emphasized, the misfortune that befell us and our actions in that complicated situation were treated with understanding.

We are profoundly grateful to our friends in socialist countries who have shown solidarity with the Soviet people at a difficult moment. We are grateful to the political and public figures in other states for the sincere sympathy and support.

We express our kind feelings to foreign scientists and specialists who showed readiness to come up with assistance in overcoming the consequences of the accident. I would like to note the participation of American medics Robert Gale and Paul Terasaki in the treatment of affected persons and to express gratitude to the business circles of those countries which promptly reacted to our request for the purchase of certain types of equipment, materials and medicines.

We evaluate in a fitting manner the objective attitude to the events at the Chernobyl nuclear power station on the part of the International Atomic Energy Agency and its Director General, Hans Blix.

'Anti-Soviet Campaign'

In other words, we highly appreciate the sympathy of all those who treated our trouble and our problems with an open heart.

But it is impossible to leave without attention and political assessment the way the event at Chernobyl was met by the governments, political figures and the mass media in certain NATO countries, especially the U.S.A.

They launched an unrestrained anti-Soviet campaign.

It is difficult to imagine what was said and written these days - ''thousands of casualties,'' ''mass graves of the dead,'' ''desolate Kiev,'' that ''the entire land of the Ukraine has been poisoned,'' and so on and so forth.

Generally speaking, we faced a veritable mountain of lies - most dishonest and malicious lies. It is unpleasant to recall all this, but it should be done. The international public should know what we had to face. This should be done to find the answer to the question: What, in actual fact, was behind that highly immoral campaign?

Its organizers, to be sure, were not interested in either true information about the accident or the fate of the people at Chernobyl, in the Ukraine, in Byelorussia, in any other place, in any other country.

The Tokyo Summit Talks

They needed a pretext by exploiting which they would try to defame the Soviet Union, its foreign policy, to lessen the impact of Soviet proposals on the termination of nuclear tests and on the elimination of nuclear weapons, and at the same time, to dampen the growing criticism of the U.S. conduct on the international scene and of its militaristic course.

Bluntly speaking, certain Western politicians were after very definite aims - to blast the possibilities for balancing international relations, to sow new seeds of mistrust and suspicion toward the socialist countries.

All this made itself clearly felt during the meeting of the leaders of ''the seven'' held in Tokyo not so long ago. What did they tell the world, what dangers did they warn mankind of? Of Libya groundlessly accused of terrorism, and also of the Soviet Union, which it turns out, failed to provide them with ''full'' information about the accident at Chernobyl. And not a word about the most important thing - how to stop the arms race, how to rid the world of the nuclear threat.

The accident at the Chernobyl station and the reaction to it have become a kind of a test of political morality. Once again two different approaches, two different lines of conduct were revealed for everyone to see.

The ruling circles of the U.S.A. and their most zealous allies - I would like to mention specially the F.R.G. among them - regarded the mishap only as another possiblity to put up additional obstacles holding back the development and deepening of the current East-West dialogue, progressing slowly as it is, and to justify the nuclear arms race.

Our attitude to this tragedy is absolutely different. We realize that it is another sound of the tocsin, another grim warning that the nuclear era necessitates a new political thinking and a new policy.

As to the ''lack'' of information, around which a special campaign has been launched, and of political content and nature at that, this matter in the given case is an invented one. The following facts confirm that this, indeed, is so.

Everybody remembers that it took the U.S. authorities 10 days to inform their own Congress and months to inform the world community about the tragedy that took place at Three Mile Island atomic power station in 1979.

'Lesson of Chernobyl'

The indisputable lesson of Chernobyl to us is that in conditions of the further development of the scientific and technical revolution the questions of reliability and safety of equipment, the questions of discipline, order and organization assume priority importance. The most stringent demands everywhere and in everything are needed.

Further, we deem it necessary to declare for a serious deepening of cooperation in the framework of the International Atomic Energy Agency. What steps could be considered in this connection?

First, creating an international regime of safe development of nuclear power on the basis of close cooperation of all nations dealing with nuclear power engineering. A system of prompt warning and supply of information in the event of accidents and faults at nuclear power stations, specificially when this is accompanied by the escape of radioactivity, should be established in the framework of this regime. Likewise it is necessary to adjust an international mechanism, both on a bilateral and multilateral basis, for the speediest rendering of mutual assistance when dangerous situations emerge.

Second, for the discussion of the entire range of matters it would be justifiable to convene a highly authoritative specialized international conference in Vienna under I.A.E.A. auspices.

Third, a view of the fact that I.A.E.A. was founded back in 1957 and that its resources and staff are not in keeping with the level of the development of present-day nuclear power engineering, it would be expedient to enhance the role and possibilities of that unique international organization. The Soviet Union is ready for this.

Fourth, it is our conviction that the United Nations organization and its specialized institutions, such as the World Health Organization and the United Nations Environmental Program should be involved more actively in the effort to insure safe development of peaceful nuclear activity.

'Abyss' of Nuclear War

The accident at Chernobyl showed again what an abyss will open if nuclear war befalls mankind. For inherent in the nuclear arsenals stockpiled are thousands upon thousands of disasters far more horrible than the Chernobyl one.

In conditions when the attention to nuclear matters increased, the Soviet Government, having considered all circumstances connected with the security of its people and entire humanity, has decided to extend its unilateral moratorium on nuclear tests until Aug. 6 of this year, that is until the date on which more than 40 years ago the first atomic bomb was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima, as a result of which hundreds of thousands of people perished.

We urge the United States again to consider with utmost responsibility the measure of danger looming over mankind, to heed the opinion of the world community. Let those who are at the head of the United States show by deeds their concern for the life and health of people.

I confirm my proposal to President Reagan to meet without delay in the capital of any European state that will be prepared to accept us or, say, in Hiroshima and to agree on a ban on nuclear testing.

The nuclear age forcefully demands a new approach to international relations, the pooling of efforts of states with different social systems for the sake of putting an end to the disastrous arms race and of a radical improvement of the world political climate. Broad horizons will then be cleared for fruitful cooperation of all countries and peoples, and men on earth will gain from that.

#chernobyl #chernobyl exclusion zone #valery legasov #boris shcherbina #soviet union #Soviet History #history #valery khodemchuk #vladimir shashenok #ukraine

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