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jq37 · 3 years

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The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 5

Through a Glass, Darkly

Welcome back to the Temple of the Earth Defiant where the girls and their magical horses (and one pony!) have found refuge from the strange, twisted, fae creatures that have been chasing them. The statue of Asha Hammerheart that Ost animated last episode is still alive and wrecking house on the remaining harpies and beasts that are foolish enough to keep fighting and the rest soon get the hint and flee.

Ost does some healing (boosted by the ambient Hallow effect of the temple which gives everyone a short rest) and then, seeing the damage to the temple caused by erosion, starts using Mending to fix things up. Her friends help out too with Sam and Yelle being most effective--Sam by repairing water damage and Yelle by creating tree cover and other druid-y tricks. But of course, we can’t overlook Katja’s crucial addition of carving “A Horse is a Home” into one of the walls of this sacred temple.

Anyway, the girls are nesting super hard, the horses are having their scrapbooking reviewing club (an insane thing that was established last episode) and then Sam asks a question. Did y’all mention something about a photo of me going viral? Everyone’s like yeah, but don’t worry, you looked super hot. That’s not the part Sam was worried about. What she’s worried about and what all the girls except Zelda don’t really seem to know is that Sam doesn’t really have a social media presence. So like, 180k and climbing views (as decided by a dice roll) isn’t really what she wants. She scrolls through the comments really quick and sees that they’re not awful but one person is like, “Hey that girl looks a lot like that character from that old show”. Which Sam doesn’t love. She says that she’s fine but also that, even without an Insight check, she’s obviously not.

Sam kind of looks to Zelda to bail her out and Zelda is like, “Hey, I’m gonna delete this video.” The other girls follow suit, even though they don’t quite know what’s happening. When they have to split up to investigate, Sam has Zelda kind of bail her out again and they split up to go check a nest outside--Zelda waving off Danielle when she wants to go with. Ant and Yelle decide to check out a cache of some treasure they saw earlier and Ost and Katja stay with the horses to keep fixing the temple up. Penny initially goes with Ant and Yelle but rushes back to be with Ost and Kat when Ost discovers a hidden lock while she’s fixing a wall.

So, the girls are split up, let’s run all these scenes.

Antiope and Yelle

Ant and Yelle go see the pile of treasure (near the statue of dwarven paladin Yvonna) which they learn is like a “take a penny leave a penny” situation for weapons and items. They were left by adventures who were similarly chased here and you can take what you need as long as you leave something to help others. Like, “Oh no I only have an ice sword and I need flaming arrows.” It doesn’t have to be equivalent exchange, you just need to leave something useful.

In this space, Yelle feels a weird melancholy and like they’re within the watch of something vast and powerful. She tries to check for TK’s presence but rolls low. Antiope leaves her Kalvaxus killing shortsword and takes some really nice, white feather fledged arrows with mirror tips and an ax Kat wants as a present for her dad. Danielle takes a bandolier of potions (3 healing and 2 mystery I believe) and leaves a bunch of mushrooms. Some of them are psychedelic and Ant takes one because this is probably a good time to be high, right?

It’s not messing with her competence obviously though because she rolls a 25 on Primeval Awareness and gets a weird sense, like something is closing in on this place. And like something very powerful is bleeding, which combined with the chaos of the mountains might explain the weird harpies and the cat/dogs. But she’s high so she explains this is a very spacey, stoner way. Probably a good thing she’s with Yelle.

Sam and Zelda

Sam can fly and Zelda can basically walk vertically with her goat legs so they check out the nest. Well, ostensibly that’s what they’re doing. Really they’re just having a heart to heart. Sam thanks Zelda for saving her ass and apologizes profusely for being so short with her. Zelda gives her a huge mid-air hug and says it’s not a big deal because she knows Sam is just lashing out because she’s hurting but Sam says it’s not a good enough excuse and she’s truly sorry. It’s been her coping mechanism for so long but she doesn’t want to be that way. She tells Zelda that the Everpetals are divorcing and that she’s living alone and Zelda says that any one of the girls would be happy to have her stay with them. Sam further explains that this is a big part of the reason she’s been so broken up about the possibility of their group splitting up and Zelda immediately takes out her crystal and texts her “I’m in” in the thread, breaking Sam again.

Since they’re in heart to heart mode, Sam tells her that she talked to her bio-mom and an agent and she’s not sure what to do. Zelda says that she’s gonna be spectacular no matter what she does and she doesn’t have to do any of them but it’s cool doors are opening for her but also Antiope and Penny are gonna be PISSED that she’s out here making side plans after she gave them so much shit for theirs. Lol, well it’s a nice moment in the meantime and we cut to…

Penny, Ost, and Katja

While Penny is lockpicking (and also trying to teach one of the horses to lockpick because sure) Katja and Ost go talk to the statue of Asha Hammerheart. It seems to be animated with at least some level of her true consciousness from beyond the grave and that she can kind of woge into her statue when she wants, which is cool. She’s been there for like 250 years so that’s a lot of history to see.

Ost is maybe the most polite we’ve ever seen her talking to Asha (at least to begin with lol) and they ask her about TK. Asha says she saw TK show up 12 years ago but she never left, at least not through the front door. And then about 2 years ago (right around when they were in the crystals) that’s when the harpy queen showed up. At first they were normal and then they started mutating. Also, recently, Korra (one of the other statues/heroes) saw a woman in the mountains--not TK.

Ost then takes a page from the book of one St. Kristen Applebees and asks, “Hey. What’s the deal with our god? He never talks to us, does he just suck?” Asha--who has never talked to him even though she’s a martyred hero and literally in dwarf heaven makes some excuses for the guy but Katja scoffs at them. “If people wanna take care of you, they do.” Ost then straight up asks if Logran Soulforger is even real which sets Asha off but Ost isn’t mad AT her, she’s mad FOR her. You go and do all this cool shit to the point where you have this cool ass statue, you fully DIE for him and he doesn’t even say hi? With a 21 Persuasion check, Asha admits that yeah, she would have liked some recognition. She decides she’s gonna go do some talking to some people and leaves after getting Ost’s number but before they can ask more about the woman Korra saw (who they think is Charity).

OK, that’s all the small group stuff! Everyone comes back as Penny finishes up with the lock and they go down into this room that’s full of polished, precious stones. This is probably where people who were upkeeping the temple stayed. While everyone else is going down, Sam feels some powerful magical pull--much like her episode 1 Lightning Lure--calling her from the top of the stairs so she goes back up. We’ll get back to her in a bit.

Penny rolls a high check to clock what’s going on down here. First off, she finds flintlock bullets and airship uniform scraps which makes it seem like there was a battle here involving some airship guys from the Baronies. Which is not just the place of origin of Riz’s imaginary Romance Partner. It’s a cluster of nations known for high rates of monarchical turnover and renaissance style intrigue. I’m picturing just a nation of [REDACTED]s from Crown of Candy.

With all of this stuff, Penny finds an emblem of a billionaire airship mogul named Lord Talcidimir Tallbreeze who is a friend of her dad’s. Yelle is immediately like FUCK billionaires which isn’t plot relevant but it’s nice to know she’s always on brand.

Oh also, Penny just casually finds the Legendarium so that’s neat.

To be safe, Ost casts Protection from Energy on Ant (who is the one who knows how to use it) and brings out her Spirit Guardian (who is a combo of her mom, nona, and Asha, with her dad’s rings). Ant checks it out and sees that there are currently no A, B, or C quests in all of Spyre. While Penny cross references the bylaws to see if there’s a way to get around this, Yelle does some druid BS that I still do not understand to use the crystals in the cave to jailbreak this super powerful magical Artifact so they can just have copies on their crystals. While that’s happening, let’s check on Sam.

Sam goes back up the staircase where she sees Ending who doesn’t look menacing at all, just extremely sad. She’s looking out the mouth of the cave and, when she turns, Sam can see she’s crying blood.

“What’s wrong?” asks Sam, the acid-tongued but good-hearted. “Can I help you?”

With a 25 Persuasion check to get her to talk, Ending apologizes for scaring her and her friends before. She didn’t mean to. She sometimes forgets that her very nature can be frightening and dangerous to others. She says that when she escaped, she tried to rejoin her sisters but found their mirrors shattered and them gone. Sam thought they escaped but that doesn’t make sense to Ending. If they had, why wouldn’t they have freed her as well?

Sam asks who her sisters were and we finally get true names for Ending and her sisters:

Chrona, Terra, Pyrria, Nira, Zefira, Anima, and herself, Talura (which is what I’ll be calling her now that we know). Talura is the baby, the youngest. Sam realizes she’s talking about the Eidolons and Talura seems surprised and a bit pleased that Sam recognizes them.

Sam asks if she can hug her and Talura hugs her tightly in a very cold embrace that doesn’t hurt. Downstairs, she hears her friends (Penny specifically) freaking about about the lack of quests but she doesn’t break the hug.

“My own sisters are struggling right now but I’m gonna stay with you because you don’t know where yours are. But maybe we can find them.”

Talura clocks that the way that Sam is being is her true nature, not the bitchiness she often uses as a shield. Then she starts to talk about her history. That she and her sisters were sealed away when the gods were done with them (Sam can relate to being used and set aside) and the only way out was death. Talura has been crying and looking for her sisters to no avail. Her tears of blood leaking seems to be what caused the monsters to mutate which is in line with what Yelle and Ant were sensing.

Talura doesn’t think anything could have destroyed her sisters so she’s very confused. Sam offers Talura her Mirror of the Past because it almost knocked out Sam to get god-tier information but Talura presumably won’t have that problem. Talura offers her a boon in exchange for this great kindness but Sam says she doesn’t need any quid pro quo. “This is just because you’re hurting.”

Talura is supremely touched and still wants to do something for her new...friend? Sam accepts the title and says that what she needs is some help on her GED quest. Once she explains what she means, Talura again recognizes Aguefort and is like, Oh, you need a quest? I can totally help with that! As we learned earlier, these guys are kinda genie connected so it’s not super surprising when Talura very happily goes full your wish is my command.

Downstairs, a Class A quest suddenly appears in Spyre on the screen.

Back upstairs, Talura says that it’s been too long since she got to grant a wish and seems really happy about it. Sam gives her the mirror so she can check what happened to her sisters but when she does, she totally flips out and gets super angry--not at Sam, just at whatever she’s looking at. She can hardly believe it. Sam tries to figure out what’s wrong but she just gets super big and then disappears into a puff of smoke, leaving Sam's mirror on the ground, covered in frost.

Downstairs, the Class A quest expands across the entire globe and then the Legendarium cracks. Ost’s spirit guardian disappears because of alarm bells ringing in the afterlife. And the girls learn that a Class A quest is a quest that affects the whole MULTIVERSE. Yikes!

So anyway, they girls go upstairs to check on Sam (on a bear that Penny makes because sure) and they see that something clearly just happened with Sam. Yelle asks if she’s good and Sam is like yeahhhh I don’t think ANYONE is good right now. Sam seems like she’s about to cry and Antiope instantly forgets all the petty bullshit going on between them and rushes to make sure she’s not hurt.

Sam gives the girls a rundown of what happened and Yelle concretely puts together what I said earlier about Talura’s tears messing with nature.

Sam wants to check her mirror to see what Talura saw and Brennan says she can do it the safe way with risk of failure of the surefire way with risk of personal harm. She, of course, picks door 2 and rolls a 13 on her con save which means she rises into the air like Storm from X-Men, eyes wide, and then instantly passes out and goes into shock. Antiope is there to catch her as she does.

Also, she looks SUPER hot while falling on a 31. Honestly, it’s a shame she doesn’t allow herself a social media presence.

Anyway, we’ll get to what she sees in a bit. Yelle and Ant make sure she’s OK (she is, but the has to be knocked out for this or she won’t be able to handle it).

Penny tells them what she knows about each Eidolon from her earlier research which is what element each goes with:

Chrona: Time (Related to astral and elemental planes)

Terra: Earth

Pyrria: Fire

Nira: Water

Zefira: Air

Anima: Life

Talura: Death

They also talk about TK never leaving via the front door and all this airship stuff being around. Maybe she left out the top of the mountain on an airship? Katja has the hookup with this Tal guy (she’s met him when she was younger) so they decide they need to check it out once Sam is good.

The girls fix the Legendarium and Ost, when she goes to pray for her spells for the night, doesn’t pray to her usual god. She prays to Asha. And not only does she get her spells, she also gets a new one--Commune.

And now let’s get to what Sam is seeing in her Vision Coma.

She was told by Talura that the only way out of the mirrors given to them by the gods was death. And what Talura saw that drove her to do whatever multiverse threatening thing that she did was every one of her sisters walking out of their mirrors and choosing death. I will specifically highlight that the oldest sister leaves almost immediately with a small, “Oh,” of realization and Anima, the closest sister to her seems terrified before coming to a joyful realization and leaving.

And that’s the end of the episode! Join us next week when apparently there is talk of a masquerade ball?????? Brennan, you shouldn’t have!

Superlatives

Sam: Most Likely to Accidently Snag a Brand Deal

Did you guys ever read the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche? Where Psyche was born so hot that it was basically a curse and she was miserable because she was so hot that Aphrodite hated her? That’s Sam. She is incapable of almost dying in a non-aesthetic way. It’s like a Pantene commercial every time. This is my favorite running gag.

Random Thoughts

Man, I have so many feelings about Sam. She’s such a BITCH in so many ways but it’s so obvious that she has a good heart. Every time she has an opportunity to be nice with no gain--helping Lola find her dog, magically turning the pages for the horses during book club, fully refusing a boon from Talura--she does. And I’m glad she gave Zelda such a sincere apology and didn’t let the extenuating circumstances absolve her because she said some pretty uncalled for things. But at her core she’s so kind and I want only good things for her.

Also those of you who know me from my FH recaps know I’m a messy bitch for sister stuff so Talura and Sam both referring to the other maidens as her sister had me dead. You can tell when something in this show is f’ing me up when I just start directly quoting instead of paraphrasing.

Katja being richer than Helio but having no idea what any of the brands Ost is mentioning are is peak comedy.

As is Ant’s response to the take and penny leave a penny translation from Ost, “No, Penny didn’t come with us.”

Ost: I get service in the afterlife.

You could really tell which of the players watched Sophomore Year because the Baronies came up and all of them went into fight or flight immediately.

Very Elsa vibes from Sam during the top of the scene with Talura. (Sam is, of course, a better sister but we simply do not have time to get into my feelings on Frozen 2 right now).

I was wondering why this season was called just “The Seven” when it dropped initially. Like, was it snappier? Did they not want to use the word “maiden”? But they still call themselves the Seven Maidens in the show so it’s probably not that. Now I’m wondering if it’s just to parallel the 7 of them w/ the 7 Eidolons.

So it seems clear based on the reactions of the first and sixth sisters that they didn’t just “go gently into that good night” as Ant would say and ditch Talura. It seems like they figured something out. Also Brennan isn’t really a “and then they all died, the end” kind of DM, you know? Credit to my friend @camwritery for getting here before I did but the gods said the only way out was death and she is death so you know? Those def seem like puzzle pieces that go together.

The only crit rolled this episode is a 1 by Penny which she gets to reroll as a halfling.

#the seven #the seven spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers

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mcmoth · 3 years

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So... I just found the song Theseus by The oh hellos, which... really surprised I hadn't found it sooner, being both a dsmp and the oh hellos fan, but oh well. Anyways, I just wanted to ramble about how this song fits c!Tommy, cause my god... the animatic I could make with this,,,

Oh, and this was originally a YouTube comment, btw, so it's maybe less expansive or personal than my usual rambles here would be. I just thought to actually rather post this on tumblr and delete the comment as to not add to the pile of dsmp comments cluttering the original song's feedback ^^ here y'all go:

At the edges of my fingers

Never quite closing round it

Oh, that peace like a river

Always going, but never getting

- How c!Tommy is constantly on the move, always preparing the next plan, always striving for some closure, how his two main priorities right now are safety and honesty - peace - and he tries so hard to get it, always, but in the end, never seems to succeed.

Seems like maybe it's not all that much a place

As it is a way

And ways don't ever seem to want to

Stay too still for too long

- Reminds me heavy of L'manburg. At the start of it, Wilbur did say that L'manburg wasn't a place, it was it's people, it's ideals. Words over violence, fighting back against oppressive authority, and seeking a family. And that's still what c!Tommy holds close to this day. But... as we all know. L'manburg, as it stood, didn't last long in these idealistic hopes.

Isn't that what it's all about?

The slow trickling thaw that sets the banks in half

The sweet melody it makes when the canyons crack

I wanna give it all I've got, and I want nothing

I want nothing back

-The "I wanna give it all i've got, and I want nothing, I want nothing back" makes me envision the season 1 finale, when Tommy tried so hard to fight for L'manburg, against all odds. And as Techno shouted at him to give up on being a hero, he just yelled back that he never wanted to be one, didn't want to be anything, rather "just wanted L'manburg back". For all of them.

Also, the first 3 lines give off cool imagery - the division between the dsmp and L'manburg, the war, the split sides after the election for the "trickling thaw that sets the banks in half", and Wilbur's words and symphony, once hopeful, turned miserable, as it echoes against Pogtopia's walls for "melody it makes when the canyons crack".

Whatever kingdom come, it probably won't come quick

No mighty clarion to announce it

No single use ark to discard in an instant

Like Theseus's ship, we'll fix the busted bits

- makes me think of new L'manburg, of everyone trying to rebuild after the destruction - constructing on top of the remains. Integrating the losses into their future. The creation comes slow, and without fanfare - the healthy bit of it, at least. But that's what's important about it - being able to take something slow for once, and just... working towards something again.

'Til it's both nothing like and everything

It's always been

It's a wonder we expect a thing to

Stay the same at all

- Theseus' ship is a metaphor for how, if you take something apart, one by one, gradually changing it's parts 'till it's all replaced, is the ship still the same ship? Or is it something entirely different now? And I feel like that's an interesting way to view c!Tommy - so much has happened to him, all lives lost. He's lost his spark, he's regained it again, different now. He's lost his friends, he's regained them again, different now. He's lost his brother, he regained him again, different now. So many labels have been assigned to him - hero, liability, toy... is he even Tommy anymore, misaligned pieces of what used to be a full puzzle? Or... is it that, after everything, it's still just him...

Maybe that's what it's all about

We keep fixing what we know is only bound to break

What's worth saving is never worth letting go to waste

I want to mend what I've got, instead of throwing away

- This is so relevant for c!Tommy. Whatever is important to him, he refuses to throw away. The discs, his relationship with Tubbo, trying to reconcile with Techno, not giving up on Wilbur... His whole speech to Foolish, that one stream, highlights this well. If he loves someone, he will never let go. It's worth trying to mend, in his eyes, even if there's no guarantee it won't just break again. Just like his home, rebuilt dozens and dozens of times after all the griefs and opportunities to leave it. He always returns to what is close to him.

Ain't nothing come easy

No, nothing comes quick

It's gonna hurt like hell to become well

But if we set the bone straight

It'll mend It'll fix

And we'll be well

- c!Tommy's whole story has been painful. He gets beat down, more often than not. He goes to get closure in prison, and he returns undead. His bones shattered, feeling reality altered. But he still tries. Still tries to figure out what to do next, what to save next, even as he's tired to the bone. And there's something to say, about that - about how he tried, despite the pain. His healing process is such a mess, but it's a healing process all the same.

Ain't nothing come easy

No, nothing comes quick

But I want for you this, that you are well

I want for us this, that we are well

- That's what c!Tommy wants, in the end. For everyone to be safe from torment, and to have fun. For everyone to be well. It isn't easy, and he's not perfect, and his edges are sharp enough to cut, but he wishes nonetheless. He tends to the server, he asks c!Dream why he doesn't hurt after leaving everything, he preserves Ranboo's flowers; he just wants everything to be okay.

We are well, we are well

We are well

- And they will be, I hope. Because if there's one thing that c!Tommy's story has shown, after all the fighting, abuse, arguments, death and grief - it's that he's still alive, and hanging onto hope... And though things are bleak, I'm hoping one day, the whole server, not just c!Tommy, will be able to say "we are well", too.

So... Yeah. Check out the oh hellos if y'all haven't already, their music is wonderful <3

#dream smp #tommyinnit #the oh hellos #theseus the oh hellos #meta #character analysis #song analysis #ramble #music #song #my own post #i have no idea ehat's even happening at any current time #i just continue to imagine this silly little fictional character and all his past events andcry about him #l'manburg

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azure-firecracker · 3 years

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For your prompt list, can you do #36- "I never wanted to hurt you' for Azutara.

I'm gonna set this one up a bit if that's ok. This prompt reminds me of a scene from the soulmate au I'm working on (hopefully will one day finish lol)

If you don't wanna use this then that's absolutely fine. With that being said, here's the relevant info.

-Soulmarks are rare to appear. Everyone has a soulmate, but the only thing that's guaranteed is that you'll be in the general vicinity of them at some point in your life. The mark won't appear until you directly speak to each other, in this case it was the throne room scene from the show. When you are both aware of the mark, you become spiritually connected. This connection is different for every person. In thier case, the mark worked two ways 1) during moments of high stress, the non-stressed one's spirit is pulled to the other (think astral projection but they can't be seen) to provide support/comfort. 2) they see various memories of the other through dreams. I plan on using this aspect to build a connection between them since they hardly directly interacted during the show. Katara's memories and some of the actions Azula witnesses from Katara both inspire her to want to be a better ruler and show her that Katara is her equal. Katara sees a lot of the more negative memories of Azula, like when her mother implied there was something wrong with her, harsh training from Ozai, her mother disappearing, Zuko's Agni Kai. Azula also has anxiety from her past traumas so, needless to say, Katara's been providing quite a bit of comfort (Azula has a mark mirroring Katara's necklace and Katara has one of a Blue Dragon going down her spine)

Next point - the Crossroads of Destiny never happened. Azula freed Katara after seeing the soulmark. She didn't tell her about it and instead offered a deal. Her freedom in exchange for information on Zuko's location. Azula had the Dai lee lower the walls before trying to capture Zuko, so he had already fled when she goes to capture him.

Azula gets called back to the fire nation by Ozai, leaving War Minister Qin in charge of the city. When she gives her report to Ozai, she left out the info about Katara, which Ozai knew about thanks to Qin's report sent via messenger hawk. He accuses her of trying to hide her failure and also brings up her inability to capture Zuko. He decides to overlook the slight in lieu of her victory but threatens her to never fail him again. Katara saw all of this and her spirit is pulled behind the princess as she returned to her room and proceeded to lose her public composure, falling into a panic attack. That was the first time Katara provided comfort but the relevant part is Ozai's threat.

Later, on the Day of Black Sun, Azula had decided she was going to leave the capital, planning to teach Aang firebending. Her plan was to safely slip into the night after the invasion (she didn't leave during it because she needed to make sure her people were protected). She set up a plan to stall Aang using far more Dai lee than she did in the show. She gave them orders not to capture him however. With the invasion thwarted, she went to give her report to Ozai. She didn't get a chance to speak as he started laying into her about allowing the Avatar to escape. (Katara astral projects in. At this point her body is on Appa as they prepare to flee) When she tried to speak Ozai back handed her yelling/asking when she became so weak. The sudden movement shifted her shirt enough for Ozai the see a hint of blue in her neck. He pulls down her collar revealing the soulmark. The last thing Katara sees is Ozai throw Azula back, causing her to stumble as he calls he a born traitor throwing lightning in the process.

This is a spoiler point. I have Ty lee rescuing Azula with airbending. As the lightning kept from Ozai's fingers, she slammed him with a gust of wind, sending him flying. The lightning, with it's trajectory changed, strikes Azula in the shoulder. When Ozai looks back, the room is empty.

Ty lee, following the spiritual connection through Azula's aura, brings her to the Western Air Temple.

I'm curious to see your take on what happens next and this prompt seemed to fit it quite well. Perhaps you'll have Katara speaking to an unconscious Azula. Or maybe you'll have a couple scenes, one when Azula arrives and another when combustion man attacks, having Azula wake up, stumble out and strike him with lightning leading to Katara freaking out about her condition. There are really a lot of different ways this could go. If you decide to do it, I admit I'm very interested to see what you come up with. 🙂

Sorry this took so long but I really wanted to make sure I got this right, especially after you left all of those wonderful comments on my fic! This AU is absolutely incredible, and I hope I did it justice.

***

Katara awoke with a gasp and found herself lying on a flat stone ledge. Around her were her friends, each looking dejected after their recent failure. But Katara had other things on her mind.

She hadn’t told her friends about the blue dragon that had appeared on her back in Ba Sing Se, or where she really found herself when she “fell asleep.” She wasn’t exactly sure why she hadn’t told them. It was partially because they had so much going on already, but partially because she was afraid they wouldn’t trust Azula.

Azula...the girl had turned out to be so much more than Katara had ever imagined. Far from pure evil, she was a broken teenager with fierce protectiveness deep inside her, and Katara had found that they weren’t as different as she’d once thought. She was her soulmate, as strange as that was. Katara never would have expected it, but she had come to care deeply about her.

She paced the Air Temple in worry, wishing she could do more than just move her spirit into Azula’s mind, that she could help in some way. The last thing she remembered was seeing the girl at the mercy of her father. Katara thought she would know if Azula had died, but her heart still ached with fear.

« Help! » came a cry from far above. Katara leaped to her feet and glanced up into the sky. There was a Fire Nation airship zigzagging towards them. Sokka raised his sword, but Katara held out her hand to stop him. This ship was clearly being flown by someone who didn’t know what they were doing. Something wasn’t right.

The ship suddenly tipped forward, pointing straight down and hurtling towards the bottom of the canyon. At the last moment, Katara saw a strange form leap from the front window towards them, falling just short of the edge of the cliff. Katara raced towards them, but Aang was faster, leaping off the edge with his glider, falling into a dive. A moment later, he was back, and he wasn’t alone. Ty Lee was hanging on to his feet with one hand, and somehow she was helping propel them through the air. Was she...was she airbending? In her other arm was the limp body of Azula. Katara felt her heart leap.

Katara raced towards them as they landed on the side of the ledge. Aang and Ty Lee began a conversation, but Katara barely registered it. She ran straight to Azula and dropped to her knees, instinctively scooping the girl up in her arms. Thank the spirits, she thought. Azula was alive, if weak.

Quickly, Katara drew her water out of her pouch, her hands moving over Azula’s shoulder, feeling the electricity coursing through her. Healing Azula was, in some ways, the easiest thing she’d ever done, because the pattern of her heart and her spirit was so similar to her own.

Azula stirred in Katara’s lap and slowly opened her eyes. As her vision cleared, she groaned, and tears instantly filled her eyes.

« I’m sorry, Katara. »

Katara blinked. « What for? »

Azula sighed, tears still spilling down her cheeks. « I’m sorry that you’ve got me for whatever this soulmate thing is. You’ve done everything for me. You showed me compassion when no one else would, you calmed me down, you were open with me when you never had to be. You made me a better person. And me? All I did was hurt you. I tried to kill your friends, and now my father won’t stop until he kills me too. I’m a failure and a monster. » She looked up, right into Katara’s eyes. « I never meant to hurt you. »

Katara suspected that the girl’s weak physical state was part of what was making her so vulnerable. She’d never seen Azula be so honest, even with herself. It made her heart swell, with sadness for the girl who’d been made to believe she was a monster, when Katara knew that that couldn’t be further from the truth.

She pulled Azula up into a tight hug. She’d never hugged her before, but it felt right. Like they’d been made to put their arms around each other just like that. « Azula, you’re my soulmate. I...I love you. I love you because you’re a person, because you’re passionate and strong and human. You could never be a monster. »

Azula didn’t speak, maybe because she was still too injured, maybe because she had nothing to say. She just wrapped her arms tighter around Katara, and held onto her like she was the most important thing in the world.

A voice came from behind them.

« Wait a second. She’s your WHAT?! »

***

This was a super fun prompt! You’re amazing so I hope it made you happy! This is an amazing idea and I can’t wait to see where you go with it!!!

#ask the theater nerd #mini fics #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla azula #azula atla #azula avatar #azula #katara atla #atla katara #katara avatar #katara #azutara #kazula

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beetleboo · 3 years

Text

long post. one i’ve been trying to make for a while now. hell, i wrote this like... third week of may. didn’t post it until now because i didn’t know if I wanted to.

but something i want to lay out, been wanting to lay out for months. dont want to talk to anyone about it, just want to put the info out there for it to be seen.

if you re/blog this i will block you. i may put this on the relevant sideblog at some point.

because 2020 was the worst year on record for me for a number of reasons, and it’s torn me down to the lowest point i’ve been in a long time, and this is just. everything that’s gone down. not a callout post, no one gets named, but these are all the events

partially in relation to my fandom sideblog, because that’s where i had community, and where it’s all just. gone. doesnt exist anymore.

i started up a server, ages ago now. somewhere i curated to be a positive and safe space for things, and for a while, it was that.

around the end of 2019, spilling over to the start of 2020 when it picked up, i found, both on my blog and in discord spaces, in particular the server i ran, that people no longer talked to me. no one would hold a conversation with me past a few basic responses, no one replied to anything i shared, no one engaged when i tried to start discussions. so i pulled back from the main server - S1. thought it was just a lull in activity. stayed that way for weeks, months, and I just muted the server. no one ever cared about anything i had to say. was lucky if anything i posted got even a token emoji react

was in another, smaller server - S2. people i talked to damn near every day, even in voice. played games together - that became... no fun simply because everyone else was so much better/further ahead in the game. i was completely useless, so didn’t server a function in game and never really felt like anyone actively wanted me around, but i still participated in chat.

but again, no one ever responded to anything I posted beyond maybe a token react

couple people discussing something one day. I contributed with Theory A, and quite immediately got that shut down. few minutes later, they rephrased exactly what I said and happily nattered away. so whatever I said wasn’t worth it when it came out of my mouth but if they talked about it, it was all well and valid. so again, between that specific experience and no one interacting with me, nor anything I post. server muted. treatment taught me no one cared about my presence there.

gave admin rights to S1, my server, to someone I trusted. two requests only: dont delete channels and let me know if you want to invite anyone (since I kept it private)

RYE (i’m just assigning random three letter names to people to keep this straight) posted public invites several times. never asked me. one of the two things i asked. brought it up with them that it bothered me, just got vague noncomittal responses. more public invites. eventually, after having the server muted for months, i handed over full control and left. that was almost a full year ago. none of the people have talked to me in that entire year, through discord or here or anything.

except RYE who sent me a message after a couple months like ‘wow i havent heard from you in a while hope you’re doing ok’. i wasn’t. after a bit but still the same day, i said as much. that i wasn’t doing well. they never responded. and i don’t mean like, they didn’t respond that day. i mean i literally never heard from them until months later when they sent me a meme and also didn’t respond to me commenting on that meme.

and this is one side of things. all of the above was the first half of the year. this next bit happened about. march2020? I was in another server - S3. another place that was a good space at the time. was in voice chat with two other people. started talking about one thing. MIN very suddenly said something along the lines of ‘i don’t care about this i’ll come back when you’re done’

this is one of the very few things that can trigger me - i’ve had a lot of people talk down to me if I dare look excited about anything. when they came back, i asked if they could try to just. depart conversations more softly. MIN always said ‘if i do anything hurtful to you just tell me! i dont want to do that kind of thing!’

this was clearly a lie as they exploded on me, telling me they always have to walk on eggshells around me, that I ask so many things from them. before what I asked them that day, I can only recall one other thing i asked (which was not to talk about a person who was abusive towards me, and they were like ‘yea sure np’ about that, over a year prior’)

the whole thing turned into basically me having to shut down the fact that i was hurt by what they did, had to ignore that now and i had to fawn and placate them and the only thing i got out of that was that my feelings were irrelevant, only theirs.

(incidentally, I have had two other people turn on me in similar ways, accusing me of doing shifty/bad/terrible things, and not being willing to tell me what they are when I ask, only saying that ‘i should know what i did’ so that’s also now a Fun New Bit Of Trauma.)

and that entire weeklong event lead me straight to a breakdown. literal genuine breakdown i cannot convey how devastating that entire scenario was without going into far too many details.

so between all of these things happening in less than six months, with three different community spaces folding and collapsing and fading away from me, with many of the friends i thought i had just. moving on to other things and dropping me. people i talked to every day just not bothering with me anymore. they all have gone on to other stuff and no one ever went ‘hey beets wanna see what i’m up to’ or ‘wanna do this thing with me’

a handful of instances of me saying ‘yeah i’m dealing with these fears that have been reinforced lately that people aren’t safe to deal with, even thought part of me knows they’re probably irrational it feels like i have evidence to back it up’ and people immediately take it personally like i’m saying they’re not safe. despite. me outright saying. i know logically it should be irrational. but their reactions just reinforce it so it’s just a loop and tells me, again, never to bring up any of my problems with anyone.

so this all just reinforces that there’s something wrong with me. couple years back i spoke to a friend and how i was frustrated that I seemed to end up in bad spaces and they said ‘well you’re the one thing in common so its probably your fault’ and obviously they’re not my friend anymore but that has affected me so deeply. i can’t do anything without overthinking, whenever anything goes wrong i tear apart everything i’ve done and everything i’ve said or thought and i don’t know why things keep going bad. i try so hard but i’m just. not right.

so it all teaches me that there’s no point in reaching out in trying to talk to people because if i say ‘hey this hurt me’ i get ignored at best or torn down, yelled at, scolded. no point in trying to talk to new people because everyone just walks away at some point. not even a natural drift apart, i can handle that. but just very suddenly, they’re gone, off with better people doing better things.

roundabout, ties back to ‘consumption versus community’ - this is why i’ve been struggling so hard with lack of engagement on my sideblog. lucky to get a dozen notes on anything i make, unless it’s something other people can use (like mods) and even THEN it’s rare to see much activity. and that was FINE because i had people to talk to elsewhere, who would ask questions and we could back and forth and i shared my stuff and they shared those and it didnt matter if my posts only got a dozen notes because i had friends to talk to.

now i get (example) seven notes, six of which are likes and one is a reblog with no commentary. when i have something with a ton of notes, still, minimal commentary, no one talks to me. even on a mod with five hundred notes it just feels like i went ‘hey i made something :)’ and everyone picked it up and walked away with it, no one went ‘hey this is cool i want to talk to the person who made it.’

and it just feels like 95% of the time, i’m just overlooked.

and it’s worse than it’s ever been in my entire life, and I wonder, what’s the point of any of this anymore.

why bother to make the posts to share when it all just gets passed by. what’s the point in trying to reach out to new people and make friends when i get lashed out at or left behind? the social is gone out of my social media. i had community, and now it’s gone.

so this has all been going on for months and months and months and hey! suffering. and i dont expect it to get any better, don’t expect this post to fix these issues, but i’ve been trying to say something about all of this for fucking months and i think just, laying it all out is all I can do about it. i’m sure i’ve forgotten some things to touch on but as it is, all these events, all of it happening all together. new traumas, old traumas reawoken, reinforced, i’ve been torn to pieces i don’t know how to function, i can’t remember the last time i felt like even half a real person. taught that the safe, positive spaces that meant so much to me don’t actually exist and they’ll all turn on me and be torn away. nowhere is safe anymore, and trying to make it safe is just going to ruin me again.

people aren’t safe, places aren’t safe, been proven to me time and time again so i just. stay away.

no matter how much i try to fight that, it just doesnt work.

anyway tl;dr beets needs therapy probably

#beetleposts #miserytag

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|2

chapter 2: the movie scene

enemies to lovers au

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: the first time you kissed and the last time he offered to kiss

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, flashback in italics, mentions of sex, fluffy-ish?, throwing up

word count: 5.5k

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

We never really want to give in to feelings when we are well aware they’re not reciprocated. It is dumb, and it makes us shy, and very very insecure. We all fear rejection coming our way, and rejection hurts our pride. It was a good thing that your feelings were only hatred. They were very much reciprocated.

Though people liked to point it out to you very often, and not so kindly. From hate to love there’s only one step.

You never really believed in that, but you knew that at least in your case, hate didn’t mean the absence of love. It never is, if we are honest.

But really, if you were honest to yourself, you did love Tom. In your own way, but you didn’t like him. Or stand him. Because everything he did annoyed you. And people loved to point out your certain reactions to whatever he did.

Sure, your cheeks got red, and you were flustered, but that was only the visible reactions to the headaches you’d get whenever he was around. Because he would always find his way to make you feel your worse, or prank you or ruin your big chances. Actions get reactions.

You were tired of him and you didn’t trust him, but you knew that if you ever needed help, and there was no one else who could help you, you could call him up. Yes, you loved him, in his own pathetic way, you'd grown up together, after all, and you knew every single detail about the other, which made things worse.

You grew behind his shade, and for a time, it didn’t matter but when he pointed it out, it did get on your nerves. Especially because he had been the one to get you to notice all your flaws.

And even if right now the feelings were mutual, you turned back to time when they weren’t. The first time he broke your heart, he had you wondering, all night long. An 8 year old already staring into the mirror and wondering what she had done wrong, wondering if she wasn’t pretty enough, had it been her hair? Was she just plain annoying? or if her voice wasn’t good enough or was it her personality?

Because you saw that he was always the one who everybody loved, so he had to know something about it. If he didn’t love you, or like you in that matter, he had to have a saying on it. Bullshit, he knew nothing.

You grew up, and now you knew it wasn’t your fault he didn’t like you. He was the one missing it.

However, you hated that he was always on the spotlight, and he’d be a big spoiled brat about it. Tom this, Tom that. It infuriated you that everything had to revolve around him, of course Mr. Big Shot was the star, and he had to brag about it. Especially around you. Your mother and big brother said it was only to get your attention.

“Please,” your brother James would say. “All straight men do is to be stupid enough around women so they’ll think, hey that’s incredible?”

Your brother’s theory relied on the fact that men are only stupid because they want women’s attention You know how straight men like to cannon ball at the pool parties? Yes, that’s because of you. You know how men like to shake beers and then down them as fast as they can? Yeah, that’s because of you.

You had a simpler theory, men are stupid by nature. Especially Tom, he was very stupid.

However, thanks to his constant seeking of attention, and the combination of his lack of intelligence, he’d often find himself acting pretty stupid around you. Thing which you absolutely loved. It gave you reasons to make fun of him.

Still, that loathing was deep inside you, and you knew that at any point, he could make you turn around and stab you right on your chest, never backstabbing, Tom wanted to make you well aware he was hurting you. You couldn’t trust him, because he made it very clear that he wasn’t your friend. He was a childhood close acquaintance.

Enemies. That’s it, that was the word. No need to sugar coat it. You had your history, and even though you could say that sometimes, like in that particular moment, you doubted your loathing was reciprocated, you knew he’d come back again with yet another way to prove to you he was a complete asshole.

So when you arrived at the building, and he got out of the car as well, you knew something was up.

“You don’t have to stay,” you reminded him. “I’ll take an Uber back home.”

“My mum invited you to lunch, and asked me to personally drive you, don’t read much into it,” Tom snapped.

“Oh, they’re still trying,” you rolled your eyes.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah, they believe we might get along if we keep having lunch together.”

“Why are we having lunch, though? Is there any special occasion?”

“Your interview,” Tom explained.

He followed after you into the building. You sceptically watched him.

“Well, but don’t you have better things to do?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I’d rather be here to help you, maybe I’ll even give you a pep talk.”

You clenched your jaw. “This is a big day for me, don’t ruin it.”

“I’m genuinely not trying to,” he chuckled. “I just happen to be very good at annoying you, sorry babe.”

“There’s a cafetería—“

“I know this place, sweetheart, remember I’m actually relevant in the film world.” He pushed you and walked past you.

��You know for being so relevant you’d think you’d be smarter. The cafeteria is upstairs, dickhead.”

He made his way into the elevator with you and watched you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess,” you admitted.

“Hey, um… I know it’s not the time but I really am sorry for last week,” he pushed.

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Tom.”

“I didn’t know that you had-”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” you repeated. You were barely recovering from it. And it hadn’t really been his fault. Except that he had so nicely done something you hadn’t quite loved.

You had just gone through a breakup about a month ago. Timmy. He had turned from being your everything to someone you’d rather forget now. A two-year relationship had just banished in front of you.

You wouldn’t have guessed he’d bring up Timmy over to you at Harry’s and Sam’s birthday dinner. You knew Timmy would be there, he was friends with most people there but having the audacity to walk in with another girl to your best friends party? Seemed sketchy.

You knew Tom didn’t know about the breakup, the last thing he had known was you guys were having problems.

“Oi, y/n look over there, that’s your boy, ain’t he? Why isn’t he here making out with you? Did he get tired of you?” Tom laughed as he walked over to you. “Wait, is he with another girl? Ooof, guess you guys are going to have another fight tonight, right?” He commented as you were just silently looking away. “Y/N, c’mon, that’s probably a friend, chill, hey, Timmo!” And he called out to him.

“Tom, please…”

“No, no, it’s alright, I’m saving you from having a fight, better have him around here! Timmy” He called out again.

And he had turned around and awkwardly waved.

“C’mon over, pretty boy,” Tom continued. “Don’t leave me with y/n.”

“Tom, don’t,” Harry Approached and warned him as he had noticed what Tom was doing.

Timmy never liked Tom. He said that Tom was unnecessarily rude to you, and he was right. Also, Timmy was one of those people who believed in the whole ‘from hate to love’ bullshit. He was sure that Tom and you would leave each other hot and bothered and that your hatred was only an excuse to hide away the real feelings towards each other. Timmy was often jealous of your relationship with any of the Hollands. ‘Tom is a big star, you could easily fall for him’.

Tim walked over anyway.

“Uh, hey guys,” he said awkwardly. “Hi, y/n.”

“Oi, what were you doing over there with a girl who’s not y/n?” Tom pushed. “That ain’t right mate,” Tom sounded drunk.

“Tom can you please stop?” Harry asked.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” Timmy said awkwardly. He looked over at you. “Hi.”

“What happened between you both? Did you finally break up? Wouldn’t blame you Timmy, I don’t really get why you’re dating y/n, for that matter, don’t you get tired of it?” Tom pushed.

“We’re actually on a break right now,” Timmy cleared up, angrily.

Tom’s eyes widened with shock. You didn’t want to explain anything, so you walked away.

The elevator door opened and suddenly a black-haired, blue-eyed and around your age, gorgeous man had walked in. You knew about him, he worked on another show, he was also a writer, a full time one. But you knew that he was probably only there so he could be cast, and you really wondered why they hadn’t yet. Someone as gorgeous as him needed to be on all the screens.

Yes, Joseph Holt. Of course, you knew about him, someone as perfect as him couldn’t go unnoticed. His charming smile and personality was only too much to ask for.

He grinned at you.

“Morning,” Joseph smiled and then proceeded to stare at Tom.

“Morning,” you greeted him.

He took two seconds to look at your outfit. It was neat, nice, professional, and probably better as to how he probably saw you, with bags around your eyes and multiple Starbucks cups on your hands.

“You’re y/n, right? I’ve seen you working at ‘Crooked Manners’,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and you’re Joseph, right?” You grinned. “You work at ‘A little bit of Heaven’ right? With Cassey?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he grinned and then gave a second glance to Tom. “You can call me Joe, though.”

Tom chuckled.

Joseph, Joe, turned around to see Tom. “I’m sorry, is there anything funny?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Tom grinned.

“So, you’re a writer, too?” Joe asked you.

“I am,” you closed your eyes. “Well, an assistant right now.”

Tom cleared his throat. You glared at him.

“Yes?” Joe asked.

“I’m just… I’m Tom.”

“Oh, so I did see right.” Joe nodded.

“Yeah, I’m Holland, Tom Holland,” he sassed.

“Calm down, 007,” you rolled your eyes.

“And I happen to be y/n’s boyfriend, very nice to meet you,” Tom grinned as he offered a hand to Joe.

Joe widened his eyes as he shook it. “Oh.”

“What?” You turned to Tom and nudged him. “No, no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ah, alright, sorry, friendship with benefits, I’m sorry darling, I thought we’d agreed on not calling it that anymore,” Tom smirked and placed his hand on your waist. Confused and angry, you pushed him off of you.

“He’s… not, no, no, nothing of that, he’s just… I know him alright?” You tried to clear up, and Joe chuckled, as confused as you were.

“That’s… alright. Do you think I could get your number?” Joe asked as he handed you his phone. “Just so.. You know we could help each other with any writing?”

“Yeah yeah, for sure, and just to clear it out, he’s not my boyfriend or anything, alright?” You cleared out as you typed in your number.

The elevator door opened up again.

“It’s fine, I’ll catch with you later, Y/N,” Joe grinned. “And um, nice meeting you, Tom.” He said as the elevator closed.

“What the fuck was that?” You turned to Tom and slapped his elbow . “What is wrong with you?”

“Ouch!” He yelled, “I’m helping you get laid,” Tom laughed.

“You… you fucking are what now?”

“I just made you at least 45% more appealing to that guy,” Tom laughed. “Please, he wouldn’t turn your way unless he knows that someone like me slept with you.”

“You’re a dickhead,” you stated.

“You know I’m right, and by your attitude lately I can actually assure you, you haven’t got any in awhile,” he noted. “I’m just trying to help you get someone to...how did he call it? write with.”

“I can handle that myself,” you snapped. “This isn’t any of your business.”

“Hm but it could be,” He smirked.

“Besides I don’t want him thinking I’d got any weird fungus down there from sleeping with you.”

Tom cackled, rolling his eyes. “You wish you had them.”

“So you admit you’ve got them?” You asked with a smirk as the door finally opened.

“I don’t--”

You got to your floor where your friends were waiting for you and were rather surprised when they saw who was behind you.

“Y/N!” Charlie called as he waved at you. He smirked. “Girl”

You stopped abruptly and turned to Tom. “The coffee is over there, I’m sure you can find your way around here, just follow the signs.”

“Ah, don’t you want me around your friends?”

“Now why would I want such a tragedy?”

He scoffed. “Fine, break a leg.”

You smiled. “Thanks, even though it’s not theatre.”

“I’m well aware of that,” he smirked and then turned around off to the cafeteria.

You made your way to your friends, also interns at the studio. Charles, who would often say his name was too absurd and proper for his personality was smirking at you proudly, while Danielle, your clumsy and rather quiet friend was rather interested in seeing Tom.

Charlie smirked and hummed. “I see, I see, strutting around with a little help, hmm classy girl, show off you’ve got pulls.”

You rolled your eyes. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Why didn’t he come and say hello?” Danielle asked with hope.

“He drove me here, and I don’t want you guys to deal with his bullshit,” you explained.

“Hmh,” Charlie stared at Tom. “Hmhm hun, I know you hate him, but homeboy is looking fine this morning.”

You raised a brow and turned around to look at him. “He’s wearing a black t-shirt,” you raised a brow. “What’s the hype about it?”

“Hm, I’m just saying I’d love to take it off,” Charlie sassed.

You rolled your eyes and turned to face your friends. “I really don’t see why you find him attractive, all his looks are erased by his personality.”

“So you do admit he’s got looks,” Charlie smirked. “I’m telling you girl, you secretly got the hots for him, and boy, I ain’t gonna blame you.”

Danielle grinned but then instantly blushed as she saw who was walking behind you.

“I forgot to ask,” Tom said, making you jump. He chuckled.

“What?” You frowned.

“I was going to ask if you wanted me to buy you anything, and I forgot I had brought you this,” Tom offered you a Lion Candy Bar. You raised your brows. “ But if you don’t want anything else… Or maybe your friends….”

“Hi!” Danielle grinned.

Joey grinned. “Hello.”

“We’re fine,” you said before your friends could keep on talking as you looked down at the chocolate “You’re being nice, what’s up?”

He grinned. “I know it’s a big day for you, I ain’t trying to mess it up and I know for a fact those are your favourites.”

“Or maybe you are, trying to freak me out by being nice,” you shrugged. “I know your games, Thomas.”

He chuckled. “Look, I just really want you to do well.”

“Thanks, now I’ll do better if you’re not around, you get me on my nerves” you pushed. “Bye.”

“I’m serious y/n, I know they’ll love you and your color-coded notes,” he chuckled. “Plus you’ve got good orthography.”

“Ah, sure that’s what they're looking for in a writer,” you laughed. “Now, please, Tom, I need to check important stuff.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Tom grinned. “But you should loosen up a little, unless all writers look like constipated bitches.”

“Ah, original, a constipation insult, I see, you’ve learned no other insult in these last years, good to know I have to speak to you as if you were a thirteen year old boy.”

He clenched his jaw and watched you, as if he had just been challenged. “That's no way of talking to your boyfriend, darling.” Tom had placed his hands on your waist as you took them off, calmed but stiff.

“Leave,” you ordered him again.

He smirked as he stepped in closer. “How about a good luck kiss?”

You crossed your arms, and watched him judging. “Leave, Tom.”

“Such a shame, we don’t kiss that often anymore,” Tom laughed.

“We’ve never kissed,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ve got proof we have,” he snickered and then proceeded to walk off. “Good luck, babe.”

You rolled your eyes. “I hate him.”

Charlie smirked. “You’ve kissed.”

“That’s absolutely none of your business,” you said. “Now can we please focus on…. I have an interview in an hour.”

“Darling, you’ve got some explaining to do first,” Charlie laughed. “Boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes as you headed to the small cubicle the three of you shared.

“We bumped into Joe Holt,” you explained. “And Tom said we were a couple in front of him saying that if Joe believed that Tom was dating or sleeping with me it would make me 45% more attractive.”

Danielle grinned. “Joe Holt and Tom Holland?”

“Oh god, Danielle, get a grip,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, and did Mr. Holt talk to you?” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows.

“Asked me for my number and everything,” you said proudly. “Which… Oh god. I mean it could mean nothing but…”

“Girl, you’re on fire,” Charlie chuckled. “Though he’s just another white boy.”

You laughed. “He’s still attractive.”

“But are you ready to date?” Danielle asked.

“Oh my god, Dan, he asked her for her number, not to suck his dick,” Charlie implied, making both you and Danielle giggle awkwardly.

“But she knows what I mean!” Danielle laughed. “Just a week ago we had her crying and listening to Taylor Songs.”

“Yeah, and weren’t you seeing Timmy tomorrow?” Asked Charlie condescendingly.

“Look, I’m…I’m ready to move on, you know?” You admitted. “We talked about a break that would last for a month and we’ll see how that goes, alright?”

“I’m not trying to steal your thunder but I myself got a date tonight, so, I’m just gonna pop that in,” Charlie giggled.

“Nice,” you smirked.

“But alright, are you ready for the interview?” Dannielle asked.

Danielle, Charlie and you were kind of the golden trio of the interns, you’ve known them since college. Not a big friendship back then but when the three of you met here, a sort of friendship started.

“It’s not really an interview, you know that right?” Charlie said. “I mean, they’ll probs just tell you you’re already hired, although I heard a word that they’re working on a new series and they might get you there.”

“A new series?” You asked.

He chuckled. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the word says that they’re asking some interns to come up with a story and then...they might have their big breakout.”

“Hm,” you shrugged as you placed the chocolate on the table.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Questioned Danielle.

“Tom gave this to me,” you barked as if it was so obvious.

Charlie smirked as he side eyed Danielle. “When is all this going to end?”

“When is what going to end?” You frowned.

“Please,” Charlie grinned as he leaned over. “We both know you don’t hate him.”

“I do.”

“But you care for him,” Danielle pushed.

“Hatred isn’t the absence of love, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “Hatred means according to the dictionaries, intense dislike.”

“So you love him?” Danielle asked with confusion.

“Ugh, yes because they grew up together,” Charlie explained. “Gosh, Dan, do you never listen?”

“Look, I can’t stand him,” you explained. “I just really think he’s very annoying, and I’m right, he is annoying and he can’t stand me either. We’re good with that relationship.”

“Have you kissed though?”

You scofffed. “Look, maybe once when we were teens? And…” You took a deep breath. “It meant nothing, you know? It really does mean nothing, but he likes to point it out every now and then.”

“Why?”

“Look,” you closed your eyes and gulped. “He… he was kind of,” you sighed. “We were at a party”

“Oh, seven minutes in heaven?” Charlie took a sip of his coffee. “Damn.”

“Yes, but it was stupid, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “I was… 17 and I was sad because my crush was there with another girl and I wanted to make him feel jealous” You felt weird only speaking about it. “And I told him.”

“Did you ask him to kiss you?”

“Look, I was very stupid and I kind of used to have a on and off crush on him and he was already an actor” you blushed. “Look, I was very stupid I was kinda drunk, too.”

“You still kissed fucking Spiderman?” Danielle chirped.

“But it’s no big deal,” you sighed. “Now, we hate each other and haven’t kissed since, alright?”

Though, it wasn’t true. Not really. You did think of it as a deal, not a big one, but a deal. Because also, the second statement wasn’t true. Tom and you had kissed each other, three times. Only one had meant something, the first one. The other two you blamed on the heartbrakes and one on alcohol and stupidity, they didn’t mean anything. Besides, after those two, things really didn’t go well. Only the first time you ever kissed was important to you both.

But the first one, you remembered it perfectly. But it wasn’t the time to think of it, right now.

“You know I’ve got a theory,” Charlie grinned.

“Everyone does,” you rolled your eyes. “Now if you don’t mind I need to focus.”

It bothered you how every single person would try and chirp in your relationship with Tom. There was no deep meaning behind it, just two people who enjoyed annoying each other and who hated each other’s company. That was it. Even you could joke about it with Tom, just like the lunch you’d be having later, it probably being the latest attempt your mother and his had to make you guys get along. They’d make you sit down together and often leave you alone, which only ended up insulting or you guys completely ignoring each other. It was annoying.

“I have a theory,” Charlie sang anyway. “That if you guys slept with each other all of this would be gone, all your said hatred,” Charlie grinned.

“That ain’t true, and I’d never sleep with him.”

“I’m sure all of this is from the sexual tension you’ve developed all over the years,” Charlie continued.

“Sexual tension?” You laughed. “He literally called me a constipated bitch, you… you call that sexual tension?”

“Straight men are weird,” Charlie shrugged. “And please, I’ve seen how he acts around you, he’s just like a damn child all smittened with you.”

“Yes, he does check you out from time to time,” Danielle admitted.

“Only to see what he can point out and make a shitty comment from it,” you rolled your eyes. “Look, it’s not gonna happen.”

“I’m just saying that you’d get along if you were both sweating against each other, and grinding and-”

“Gross,” You interrupted him. “The only thing you’ve got right is he’s a child.”

“Besides, I can bet you that if you were to ask him to have sex with you, he’d say yes without thinking about it.”

“Why would I ask him that?” You scolded.

Danielle laughed. “Because you also secretly have a crush on him.”

You watched them with disbelief. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Look, maybe not from you but I can assure you that Tom desires you,” Charlie grinned.

“Oh god, guys this isn’t a Sandra Bullocks movie, just shut up.” You sat down and opened up your computer to try and focus on the interview you’d have.

“Didn’t Timmy say that?” Danielle asked.

“Oh, yes, that he was sure Tom did everything he did to impress you and take you away form him,” he laughed.

“If we’re honest, Timmy thought that of any man, even of you, Charles,” you mocked with a gentle giggle.

“Besides y/n you need a rebound,” Danielle insisted.

“Tom would be a hell of a rebound,” Charlie admitted. “Oof, I bet he’s great at the aftercare.”

“Yes,” Danielle agreed. “And I think that he’s not into weird things, you know?”

“Or like, good weird, you get what I’m saying?”

You watched them annoyed. “Oh my god, guys, you are taking as if that was actually going to happen,” you shook your head.

“Look, go ahead, ask him to have sex with you,” Charlie insisted as you watched him unbothered. “Please it’d take you less than ten minutes to get you to let you fuck him.”

“Oh, and they would like fall in love with each other,” Danielle said.

“What?” Charles laughed. “Girl, no I’m just trynna get her laid.”

“But wouldn’t it be romantic? A whole enemies to lovers story?” Danielle continued.

“Maybe he’d fall in love, not me,” you said. “I could easily make him fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch a feeling.”

“Oh, will you, now? Wanna bet?” Charlie grinned.

“I’m not having this conversation, I’d rather go back to him,” you admitted as you walked off with your computer back to where Tom was, so peacefully sitting down scrolling on his phone as he was biting on half a sandwich.

He looked up at you, and you were probably blushing. It felt weird walking back to a man whom your friends had just suggested you should sleep with.

“Hi, they’re bothering me, I can’t concentrate and I’m going to go through a breakdown if I don’t- I’m not gonna bother you alright, I just need to calm down before everything.” And you were being honest with him, and you knew he understood.

He was a jerk, but not that big of a jerk.

“Yeah, no, it’s alright, sit down,” he shrugged as he offered you a seat.

Somehow you felt calm, because he noticed you needed that.

You sat down and didn’t even look at him, although you were fighting the urge not to.But your mind was actually thinking of him, not of the past conversation, no but your first kiss together, your first kiss ever. One which wasn’t on camera.

And the time came, and you were at your interview trying your best to listen and answer perfectly, but your mind went back to that first kiss and your mind went back to the conversation you had with your friends.

But it came to the kiss, that kiss. One which you knew you shared a secret of. It had been all you could expect from a first kiss, sweet and clumsy and very quick, a small peck on the lips he’d given you. And although, it had been weird.

You remembered it, Tom had noticed you were down and not even coming up with comebacks. You were tired, your friend Fabiola, the only one of your friends who remained with virgin lips had given her first kiss, with that kid Aaron with the red backpack.

So you remained to be the only one of your friends without a first kiss. There you were, a pathetic kid who was too busy writing stories and filming videos with younger kids that you had forgotten to have a first kiss.

You were watching as Tom was playing video games and you hadn’t once asked for the controller. It was one of his free days he had from Billy Elliot, and you weren’t sure why he had invited you.

“Okay, what’s up?” Tom asked, pausing the game.

You didn’t even look at him.

“Y/N, why aren’t you playing?” He pushed

You looked down at your pink chipped nails. “Am I ugly?”

“Yes, next question.”

You sighed. “Tom, I’m serious.”

“I am, too, what’s the deal?” He frowned and then started the game again.

“All my friends have given their first kiss,” you bit your lip. “And I haven’t. Is it because I’m ugly?”

“Well, do you have anyone you could kiss?”

“Well, not really.” You frowned.

He shrugged. “Then you’re ugly and alone.”

You frowned. “Have you had your first kiss?”

“I’ve had girlfriends, y/n.”

“See? You’re ugly and you’ve had your first kiss, it must be something else.”

“Your personality is ugly, too,” he pointed out. “Seems like you’re not gonna have a first kiss, ever.”

“Well I must, someday, don’t you think?”

Tom shrugged.

“Would I be that bad of an option for a kiss?” You asked sincerely.

He paused the game, and coughed. “I mean.”

You raised your brows. “What?”

“Not really.”

“Who was your first kiss? Angela?” You asked, knowing he had a crush on her. “Or another girlfriend?”

“I haven’t kissed anyone,” He admitted. “It’s… scary, you know?”

“How so?”

“I don’t know how to do it.” He blushed. “I...I get nervous just thinking about it.”

“Please, how difficult can it be? You just place your lips together,” you pointed out.

Tom frowned. “What do you know? You’ve never kissed anyone.”

“But I’ve seen movies,” you pointed out. “Look, let’s… watch a movie and maybe you can learn.”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “I’m not watching a movie, y/n, I know how it’s supposed to go.”

“Then why haven’t you done it?”

He frowned. “I dunno.”

You both stayed on the couch with your arms crossed. It seemed like you both knew the answer to your problem but neither of you wanted to address it. You stayed quiet, for a long time, on the edges of the couch, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you think we should-?” Tom asked.

“No.”

“Why not?” Tom frowned.

“Would you?”

“I-No, no.”

“Well,” you gulped. “Or….? Would you kiss me?”

“No…” Tom paused. “Not here on the couch.”

You stayed quiet again.

“I mean,” Tom intruded. “We could go outside.”

“Outside?” You looked at him. “Really?”

“But it would mean nothing, right?” He coughed. “Just so we can say we’ve kissed someone.”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

You both ran to the backyard where you were both sweating nervously. He watched you.

“We can’t tell anyone,” he said.

“No, no, we won’t,” you agreed, nodding quickly.

He took a deep breath watching you.

“Well, get it done already!” You chirped nervously.

He leaned over but giggled and backed away.

You laughed with him. “What?”

“I dunno, what if I ruin it?” Tom asked.

“I wouldn’t know this is my first kiss, too!” You said, nervously. You were getting butterflies in your stomach and you were sure your cheeks were getting red. Tom was made a tomato and he was shaking.

“Okay,” he gulped. “Uh.”

“Wait, but, in movies, the guy… usually holds the girl’s face,” you explained.

He nodded. “Right.”

“And the girl…” You were sure your stomach was going to explode. “Usually has her hand on his neck.”

And before you knew it, you were holding each other.

Tom gulped as he stared at you and you could see each and every freckle on his face.

“Okay, close--close your eyes,” he said as he cupped your face.

You did, and before you could think of it, Tom had placed his lips on yours, and you had pressed yours against his. 5 seconds, that’s how long it had lasted before you both pulled away and pushed each other away.

And you had gotten nervous enough, enough to even get you to run to the bathroom and throw up.

Just like you were about to throw up now.

“So I’m very glad, y/n, you’re very talnted and we’d like to offer a place in here, however, well you might have heard of this, but we’re looking for a fresh new story, we’re talking about giving you a big shot, write a story based on a personal experience, you see the idea of the new series is to make it as human as possible so we’re asking all of you, if we can work on it.”

“Oh, I didn’t know about it,” you lied. “That sounds interesting.”

“Well, it’s anything really, but alright, do you have any ideas to pitch in?” Your boss, Alessandra, asked.

“Right now?”

“Yes, anything. Let’s see that creative side of yours, I’m not telling you to give me the whole story, maybe just a prompt from your life.”

“Hm,” you bit your lip. “I... well, I’ll.... do something about childhood enemies to lovers, maybe.”

“Hm, a classic, happened to you? Did you fall in love with your childhood enemy?”

“I... well,” you cleared your throat. “Not really,” you squeezed your eyes. You were very nervous. “I mean, I’m kind of... trying to make that happen.” You were speaking without even thinking about it.

“Oh, how so?” She raised her brow.

“Well, I was trying to prove to a friend that I could make my enemy fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch any feelings.”

Alessandra smirked. “I love that, work on it, do it, keep a journal of it, write it, make it entertaining and tell me the results, ooh, I really like that, ”Alessandra grinned as she looked up. She often did that when writing as if she was seeing the picture in her head. “It’d need to have a catchy name... But sounds promising.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, it can involve drama, love, humour, it’s perfect, we’ll see, and it’s the best way to hurt an enemy, so chop chop, go do it, I trust you, and we’ll see you in a month, keep a journal of it, remember, thank you y/n.”

You thanked her and did the exact same thing you’d done after giving your first kiss. You ran to the bathroom and threw up.

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onecanonlife · 4 years

Text

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 4,369

Chapter Warnings: swearing, references to past child abuse (regarding c!Tommy)

Chapter Summary: In which Schlatt is his own brand of irritating, Wilbur and Tommy talk a bit but not about everything, and they make their way to Dream’s prison cell.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Five: hide your soul out of his reach (i)

“You’re stalling.”

“I’m what?”

His response is automatic, comes spilling out before he truly registers that someone has spoken to him, much less who it is. So when he looks up and locks gazes with Schlatt, the annoyance bubbles up quickly. He’d been sitting quietly, in a relatively secluded area near Tommy’s house, thinking about nothing in particular and everything all at once, and he’d felt settled. Peaceful. His mind quiet.

So much for that.

“I thought you’d fucked off somewhere,” he says.

“And deprive you of my company?” Schlatt shoots back. “You wound me.”

“I wish I could,” he mutters. He glances away, staring off into middle space, hoping that maybe, Schlatt will go away if he pretends very hard that he doesn’t see him. No such luck, and he sighs. “What am I stalling about?”

“Dream,” Schlatt supplies. He strides closer, then kicks off into the air, drifting aimlessly in a seated position. The sweater still looks odd. Too soft, when the man in front of him is anything but. “You said you were gonna go see him.”

“And I am. Just not yet.”

Schlatt snorts. “What’s keeping you?”

He frowns. Meets Schlatt’s eyes again, and finds no sympathy there. A bit of hard amusement, at best. Not that he was expecting anything else.

“Tommy’s going to want to come with me, when I go,” he says. “But I don’t want him near Dream.”

Schlatt makes a sound that’s more mocking than understanding. “Right, Tommy,” he says. “Where is the kid? I’m surprised he left you alone in the first place.”

“Tubbo went back to his town. Snowchester, I think they said it was called.” There is an undefinable melancholy that fills him at the thought. Even now, after everything, they are still trying to make a home. Still trying to carve some corner out of the world and make it theirs. Or Tubbo is, at least. He’s no longer quite sure what Tommy wants. “Tommy went with him.”

“But you didn’t.”

He shakes his head. Tubbo said that there were other people who lived in Snowchester, when he asked. Jack Manifold, for one. Maybe a couple of others. Captain Puffy, maybe? Either way, to go with them would have been to invite the possibility of meeting people, and every cell in his body cringes away from that idea. He’s not ready for that just yet. If ever.

(you’ll have to face them eventually, will have to stand your ground against the hatred in their eyes, burning and so well-deserved, shattered fractals of a people you used to belong to and did your best to destroy)

(you’ll have to face them eventually, and yet you hide)

“Tommy said he’d be back later,” he says. “He doesn’t live there. In Snowchester.”

“So here you are, waiting for him.”

“I suppose.” He frowns, shifting in place where he’s sitting on the ground. He brushes his fingers against the grass, absently pulling up a flower or two. “It’s not as if there’s not time. We can wait until Tommy’s not quite so—” He trails off here, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. Not quite so what? Not quite so traumatized? Trauma doesn’t work like that, doesn’t go away within the span of a few days or weeks. He knows as much, though he used to be content enough to ignore it

(when he was the one causing it)

back in the old days, when there was no choice otherwise, when there was no chance of rest.

“Well, aren’t you considerate,” Schlatt says, and Wilbur looks at him sharply, because that was definitely snide. Schlatt stares right back, brows lifted, smirking. “Waiting for your little brother to be a little less broken. How kind of you.”

He bristles. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

“I’ll talk about him however I want,” Schlatt says. “What are you gonna do, shout at me? Play some shitty music? Please. But all I’m saying is that a few days isn’t gonna make a difference, and you know it. You’re stalling to make yourself feel better, to try and convince yourself that you’re better now, that you’re not gonna hurt him anymore.”

His mouth goes dry. “I’m not—” He shakes his head again, as if trying to dislodge the idea. “It doesn’t matter right now, anyway,” he says. “He’s in Snowchester. He’s not here. There’s nothing to do until he gets back.”

“Oh my god, just comm him,” Schlatt says. “Tell him you’re going over to the prison. Do it now, and you can leave before he decides to go with. Win win.”

“I don’t—” He furrows his brow. He doesn’t have his comm. He’s not sure where his comm is. Except—

For the first time, he thinks to check the pockets of his coat. The first couple turn up nothing, but then, in the third, his fingers wrap around a sheet of thin, hard plastic. He freezes for a moment, and then draws the communicator out, holding it loosely in his hand. A tap on the screen, and it lights up, just the way he’s used to.

It doesn’t make sense for him to have this.

Schlatt leans over his shoulder and whistles.

“Daddy’s worried about you,” he says, and Wilbur blinks, pulling up his unread messages. There shouldn’t be any, shouldn’t be any at all, because he can count the number of people who knows that he’s back on one hand. And yet, there is one, and perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised at the identity of the sender, but he is.

Philza whispers to you: don’t mean to be pushy but could you let me know you made it to smp lands safe?

He has to read the message several times before its meaning sinks in, and once it does, he’s not sure how to feel about it. It doesn’t particularly read like Phil wrote it; it’s too hesitant, too apologetic. But Wilbur remembers what Phil looked like, standing in that kitchen, wingless and so very cautious, flinching away from his words as if they were physical blows. And in the end, letting him go, even though it was plain as day that he would have liked nothing more than to keep him there.

He’s angry with Phil. For a lot of reasons. But then, he’s angry at the world, too. Angry at himself, most of all.

(and there is so much of him that just wants someone else to swoop in and fix things, just wants his dad to make everything better in a way that he hasn’t since he was a kid and the first fracture formed, splitting their family apart, and as much as he is angry there is a large part of him that just wants to go back to that house and sink into his father’s arms and learn how to call a place home again)

“You gonna answer?” Schlatt asks.

He ignores him, checking the timestamp. It was sent a few hours after he left the tundra. So, a couple of days ago, now, and there have been no messages since. Perhaps it’s no longer relevant.

He hesitates, eyes tracing over don’t mean to be pushy.

It feels so strange, for Phil to qualify a sentence like that. Like he’s unsure of his welcome. And perhaps he’s right to be.

You whisper to Philza: I’m safe.

“Touching,” Schlatt says dryly. He scowls, trying to bat him on the arm or push him away or do something, but his hand goes through, and Schlatt just smirks some more for his efforts. “Now do Tommy.”

He puts the comm down on his lap, turning to face Schlatt fully. “Why are you being so fucking insistent?” he demands. “You’re a ghost, you can go by yourself. Through the walls and shit, since apparently you get actual ghost powers.” Ghostbur didn’t get ghost powers. He recalls that very clearly, because Ghostbur was immensely disappointed by this. For once, he agrees with the shade.

“And do what, look at him? Like it’s a fucking zoo? Watch him twiddle his thumbs and chuckle evilly to himself? Not exactly my idea of a good time,” Schlatt says. “I don’t know if you forgot, but nobody can see me. Hell, for all you know, I’m not even real. You could be making me up.”

He tries to brush the comment off. It hits just a bit too close to home

(whispers in shadows and enemies around every corner, people watching and staring and plotting against him, and no one else can see, Tommy can’t see, but that’s alright, he sees enough for both of them, and he will have his victory, and if he cannot have that, then nobody can and there is laughter, laughter, laughter)

for his comfort.

“If I were making you up,” he says, “I would simply stop.”

“Cute,” Schlatt says. “Do you wanna know what your problem is? Your problem is that you’re scared of people seeing you for what you really are.”

His hands clench.

“You say you don’t want to hurt Tommy? Fine. I even believe you,” Schlatt continues. “But don’t act like you’ve come back to life and suddenly you’re some saint. You’re fooling yourself, Wilbur. People like us don’t change. You can put on as much of a shine on the outside as you want, but scratch that paint off, and you’re still the power-hungry asshole who blew up a city as a hissy fit.”

His mouth works for a second, wordless.

“Fuck you,” he snarls, and scoops up his comm again.

You whisper to TommyInnit: I’d like to visit the prison today

“Was that so hard?” Schlatt asks.

“Fuck you,” he says again. “And fuck off. Or I swear to god I’ll figure out a way to exorcise you.”

“Please do,” Schlatt says. “I’d thank you for it. But sure, have it your way.” He shrugs, looking completely unconcerned. “I’m never too far.” Then, he disappears, and there is a shimmer of blue in the air, and even that fades away, and Wilbur is left alone and feeling no better for it.

“It wasn’t a fucking hissy fit,” he says to the empty space. There’s no one left to hear him, no one left to justify himself to, but

(it wasn’t a hissy fit it was desperation and fear and wild abandon and a surging, terrible victory and a fire in his chest driving him onward and he relished in it, relished in the freedom and the power and the control and he was the villain, he was the villain and he was good at it, he was the villain and he loved it, he was the villain and everyone else paid the price and he didn’t pay at all so what happens now, what happens to the villain back from the grave what happens)

he’s not wrong. Not about this.

TommyInnit whispers to you: ok

TommyInnit whispers to you: i’ll be back soon

TommyInnit whispers to you: dont leave without me or your a bitch

He doesn’t leave without him.

He should. Should venture on to the prison by himself, to spare his brother the effort. But in the end, he can’t bring himself to do it. Can’t bring himself to go it alone. Perhaps it really is pathetic, but he wants to have someone by his side when he starts revealing himself to the rest of the server.

It’s certainly selfish. But he’s never claimed not to be.

They don’t meet anyone on the way. Wilbur doesn’t understand why, not when the sun is shining brightly and they’re walking the established path, matching each other stride for stride,

(there was a time when he would have walked behind you, would have trailed on your coattails, would have looked to you for direction and guidance and look at him now, look at who he has been made into, a child who should not have to be as grown as he is but there is no changing it now and he really is someone to be proud of, isn’t he?)

but they run into nobody, and those vines are fucking everywhere.

“Why hasn’t anyone cleared these?” he asks, more to himself than anyone else. “They’re a fucking eyesore.”

Tommy snorts. “You don’t need to tell me,” he says. “They’re ugly as hell. But there’s this Egg thing, see, that BadBoyHalo and a couple of others are all constantly going on about, and those vines come from it, I think. I don’t see what all the fuss is about, personally. I mean, it’s just an Egg. Can’t be all that great. But BadBoyHalo swears by it.” He pauses. “Well, he doesn’t swear. He says muffin by it, I suppose. Still can’t get him to swear.”

“An egg,” he says, and then frowns. “An Egg,” he repeats, and there’s a difference in the way he’s saying it, in the strange emphasis that implies the capital letter. “That’s—vines don’t come out of eggs. They’re not—vines don’t hatch, and eggs aren’t fucking plants.” And then, he remembers— “Techno told me about an egg. Said he thought it was some kind of cult. He didn’t know much else.”

Too late, he realizes what he’s said, and catches the way that Tommy stiffens.

“You’ve been to see Technoblade, then,” he says, and his voice is far too casual to actually be casual. He winces.

“When I—woke up,” he says, “I was really near the tundra. And I remembered where he lived, from when Ghostbur would visit. And I thought that maybe—”

“I mean, you don’t need to explain it,” Tommy interrupts, but his tone of voice tells Wilbur that actually, he really does need to explain it, because there is undoubtedly a note of hurt there, and that won’t do.

“No, no, I do,” he says. “I know you’re not exactly good with each other right now. I’m not really good with him either. But I woke up and it was raining and I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, and I made a list, see? And number one on that list was to get to you. But I was cold and wet and I had no idea what was happening in the SMP because Ghostbur’s memories are patchy as hell, so I thought that Techno could tell me some things so I wouldn’t go in blind and walk into—I don’t know, a nuclear war or something.”

Tommy makes an odd sound at that, like a cross between a cat having a hairball and someone choking on water gone down the wrong pipe. “Nuclear war,” he repeats, in a voice that’s a bit strangled, and his words seem to trip over each other in his rush to get them out. “Right. Yeah, no, none of that here. Nope. No way that could ever happen. Uh, yeah, no, that makes perfect sense.” He stops, and Wilbur is about to ask what the actual hell that was about, when he speaks up again. “Is he—I mean, how is he? Still a fucking crazy arsehole?”

Wilbur looks at him. Tommy does not look back. In fact, he seems to be making a point of looking straight ahead, avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Still an arsehole. Same old Techno, you know him. Phil, too.”

He doesn’t think he imagines the way Tommy’s shoulders relax at that, just fractionally.

“Right, yeah,” he says. “Good to hear.”

“Tommy—” he starts, and is saved from having to figure out what he’s going to say, because suddenly, he sees it. The prison. There’s no way that it could be anything else. And he has to stop and stare for a long moment, because he’s never seen a build like that before. Not on any server he’s ever lived on. He’s seen some impressive buildings in his life, and he’d like to think that he’s made a few himself,

(walls to keep them safe to protect them and hold them dear and he hasn’t seen Fundy yet, has he?)

but nothing compares to this.

“Who built this?” he breathes. He feels claustrophobic just looking at it, dark walls towering over them, looming, intimidating.

“Sam did,” Tommy says. “He’s the warden, too. But Dream commissioned him, which is what makes it so fucking funny.”

He feels a grin spread across his face.

“Wait,” he says, “Dream’s locked in his own fucking prison?”

“Dream’s locked in his own fucking prison!” Tommy whoops, and just like that, he’s laughing, and they both are, and maybe he can do this after all. He follows Tommy’s footsteps as he leads him to the doorway, to an empty room with a portal frame, and he’s sizing it up, trying to figure out how they’re supposed to get through, when Tommy steps forward.

“Sam?” he calls out. “You here?” And then, to Wilbur: “Sam’s kind of a dick when he’s got the whole warden thing going on, but he’s pretty nice when he’s not working. He’s been a good friend, you’ll like him. Later, I mean. When he’s not being a dick.” And then again: “Sam? Sam, we want to visit Dream!”

“You don’t need to yell, Tommy. I’m right here,” someone says, and there is another person in the room, and every muscle in Wilbur’s body tense because he didn’t see him come in. “I wasn’t expecting—” And then the man stops, staring right at Wilbur, and Wilbur is left to size him up and rack his brain as to whether or not he’s formally met Awesamdude before. He’s been on the server for a while, he knows. Was around for L’Manberg, was a part of the Badlands, was neutral. He’s met him before. He’s almost certain he’s met him before. But there’s no spark of recognition in him, looking at this man, with his full netherite armor and the mask covering the lower half of his face and the green patches that dot his skin.

“Wilbur Soot,” Sam eventually says. “I would assume? Not Ghostbur?”

He regains himself. Inclines his head. “You’d be right,” he says, and then he steps forward, taking his place at Tommy’s side, and he extends a hand. “Sorry, I’m not sure that we ever really got the chance to meet.”

Sam takes his hand, showing only a bit of hesitance. His grip is firm.

“I’d say it’s a pleasure,” Sam says. “I’m not sure if it is or not.”

“You know what?” Wilbur says. “That’s fair.”

“Hm,” Sam says, and it’s hardly approval. But Wilbur is very aware of the fact that they’re standing in the entrance of a prison, a prison that is supposedly inescapable, and that he has definitely, by the standards of the server, committed at least one crime. And what’s more than that, he doesn’t particularly regret it. Not the act itself. The effects it had, maybe. The pain it brought. But in his heart of hearts, he is glad that L’Manberg is gone.

So really, the fact that he isn’t being arrested is a win.

(he thinks, he wonders, what would he do if he was, if he was locked away in the dark and the walls loomed all around him and the sun was a distant memory and ah, he thinks, no, I would rather die, and then the imagined prison becomes Pogtopia, shadowy and dank and every sound echoing off the stone, melancholy and abandoned, and he wonders what it looks like now, now that there is no life in it at all, and he wonders if it is haunted with the ghost of who he used to be, if he left some important part of him behind to shrivel into dust)

“So, I assume this is a recent development?” Sam asks. He’s being very calm about this, which Wilbur appreciates. But then, they were never close. Were never connected personally. The real tests still lie ahead.

“Couple of days,” Tommy says cheerily. “We’re taking it slow.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” Sam says, and Wilbur blinks, because it’s a joke. Someone feels familiar enough with Tommy to make the comment, and likes him well enough to make it playful.

That’s—good? He thinks it’s good? Probably? Yes. Good. Tommy has friends. Good.

(he doesn’t need you. not really. he wants you, for some godforsaken reason. but he doesn’t need you)

“Oi, I can be slow,” Tommy says. “I can be the very slowest. I am excellent at being slow, I’ll have you know.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Wilbur says, and Tommy gapes at him, looking back and forth between them with a dawning expression of betrayal.

“Oh no you don’t,” he says, stabbing a finger at both of them. “I didn’t introduce you so that you could go ganging up on me. That’s just not right. I changed my mind, Wilbur, you’re not allowed to like Sam. None of this bullshit.”

Wilbur laughs, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed at all. He’s ribbing his little brother, and there’s even someone else here for support, and it’s not Techno, but that doesn’t seem to matter so much. The motions are familiar, the words an old pattern.

“You’re here to see Dream, right?” Sam says, and just like that, the illusion shatters. And the smile is gone from Tommy’s face.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we are.” He hesitates. “We can both go in together, right? Because I’ll tell you right now, nothing else is going to work. We’re a package deal, me and Wil are.”

Sam tilts his head. “No one’s ever tried to visit with someone else,” he says. “I don’t see an issue with it, as long as you both pass security.”

This is relieving. But Wilbur’s a bit more concerned with the way that Tommy’s hands have begun to shake. Just slightly, barely enough to see.

“Good,” Tommy says. “Wilbur, there’s so much security, it’s honestly ridiculous. There’s a bunch of checkpoints and lava and you have to put all your stuff in a locker and get splashed with potions, and oh! There’s wavers, too, you’re going to have to sign a bunch of shit.”

“Great,” he says. It’s not great. It sounds nerve-wracking, in fact. But if Tommy can do it, so can he; he’s just a bit worried that Tommy can’t do it. Or rather, not that he can’t do it, since he’s done it before, apparently. Just that maybe, he really, really doesn’t want to do it. That maybe, it will not be very good for him to do it. That maybe, he’s putting himself through this for Wilbur’s sake, and hasn’t Wilbur just established that he doesn’t want to hurt Tommy anymore?

(but the past echoes forward into the future and there’s no way around it now)

But they’re here, and he’s not going to be able to get Tommy to turn back, and he’s not sure that he would even if he could, because his nerves are all shot and he doesn’t want to be in this dark prison without an ally. So Sam guides them through the checkpoints, and there are indeed a lot of wavers, and a lot of splash potions, and Tommy has to put all of his things in a locker. Wilbur pulls up his inventory, certain that he doesn’t have anything on him, still, but he’s not entirely right about that; he must have kept the flowers he was pulling up earlier, because he’s got about five cornflowers in one of the slots.

He puts them in a chest, and ignores the startled look that Tommy shoots him when he sees. He’s not sure what that’s about. They’re just flowers.

The walls are too close. The shadows too dark. The crackle of lava too near. Tommy is putting on a front, chatting at Sam more than he is with him, and to his credit, Sam puts up with it with easy acceptance. But Wilbur knows that a front is all it is, because his smiles don’t reach his eyes, and he knows how Tommy sounds when he’s talking for the sake of hearing his own voice.

This may, perhaps, be a mistake.

(you can’t let him near Tommy don’t let him near Tommy not after what he did to Tommy don’t you know can’t you remember how can you be letting this happen after what he did Tommy shouldn’t be anywhere near here but now he is and you brought him and what kind of a brother are you)

But he has questions he needs to ask. And he hasn’t forgotten his list. His goals.

If there is anything he can do on this server to make it better, after everything he’s done, let it be this.

“Alright,” Sam says, “call for me when you want to leave. Make sure to walk with the bridge.”

And then the curtain of lava falls, and there is a moving platform, and Tommy is deathly still by his side, and there is the cell, and there, in the cell—

Dream.

He’s wearing an orange jumpsuit. A prisoner’s outfit. But he’s kept his mask, stark-white and smiling and laced with spiderweb-thin cracks. His mouth is visible, canting upward into a slight smile, one that mimics the black paint. He stands at their approach, and then they’re stepping into the cell, and Wilbur lets his hand land on Tommy’s shoulder, to steady him and to steady himself.

“Oh, fuck,” someone says, and it’s not him, and it’s not Tommy, and it’s not Dream, and it sounds faint and far away. The living aren’t the only ones in this cell, then. He hopes that Schlatt has the good sense not to be too distracting.

Dream takes a step forward. Under his hand, Tommy stiffens.

“Hi, Tommy,” Dream says. “It’s good to see you.” It’s directed at Tommy and Tommy alone, like Wilbur’s not even there at all, Dream’s mask tilted toward toward him, toward the kid that he manipulated and abused, and Tommy is trembling and Dream has no fucking right to address him like that, so soft and friendly, and Wilbur—

—sees red.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #jschlatt #tommyinnit #awesamdude #dreamwastaken #alivebur #glatt #/rp #cat writes fic #long post

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captlok · 4 years

Text

Pacifism Isn’t A Character Trait

Or: MLK Day is Upon Us so Let Me Do You a Learn

Or: As An Aang Stan I Got a Bit Over-Zealous But Lemme Explain Why For A Hot Minute

Plus some History and Tumblr commentary that even non-ATLA fans can chew on

And by ‘hot minute’ I do mean this is going to be a long meta, so strap in. For those of you who just might be tuning into this debacle, I, a person who has not used Tumblr, much at all, except for the last half year, ran into some trouble.

If you wanna skip the whole TLDNR interpersonal stuffs and get straight to Why Aang is the Best Thing Since Sliced Bread, I will embolden the relevant parts, and italicize the crit of Korra, if you want that alongside.

I was excited that ATLA was seeing a resurgence due to the Netflix remake. I wasn’t even trying to apply any steep expectations for it. (learned not to do that the hard way with the last live action adaption, and to a much lesser extent, ATLOK, since it had good . . . elements, *ba dum tsshh*)

So, these are a couple aspects of the issue: (1) Even on the internet, I am extremely introverted and until recently mostly came for content, not socializing. My main online interactions thus far have been in forums and artist-to-artist on DA. Tumblr is still very strange to me because it splits up its ‘threads’ so you can’t see all the replies if a certain pattern of users responds in their own space. I’m not even 100% sure it’s in chronological order, and replies are not nested next to each other so you can look in the comments and someone will be replying to something you can’t see in that window. And also since it is a bizarre hybrid of a blogging system, posts are somehow considered ‘owned by’ or an ‘extension of’ OP in a way forum threads are not. (2) ATLOK was good in a cinematic and musical way, to be sure. It also had some good concepts. I can go into it just appreciating it for the worldbuilding and be somewhat satisfied. But the execution was terrible. I was on AvatarSpirit.Net for years, and If I had maintained my presence on ASN to current day and had gotten around to downloading their archive now that the forum is dead, I would include some links to other peoples’ detailed analyses on just how flawed both the plotting and Korra’s frustratingly flat learning curve was especially in the first two seasons. But, that is a task for another day, and only if people are interested.

No, what I’m addressing today, on the issue of Korra as a writing exercise, is how Mike and Bryan said specifically they wanted to make her ‘as opposite to Aang as possible’ and in so doing, muddied the central theme of the original ATLA series.

Now, again, I was mainly an art consumer for my first major round of ATLA fandom. Tumblr is an alien beast to me. But, after I write my first major Aang meta, talking about how amazing it is that he has the attitude he does, and how being content in the face of this overwhelming pain and suffering is an ONGOING PROCESS and an INTENTIONAL DECISION and not a simple PERSONALITY TRAIT, I start hearing that Aang gets a lot of hate from the fandom. Now this would be bad enough if it were merely people not liking his crowning moment of pacifism because they don’t understand the potential utility (I’ll elaborate on that in another post) or the ethics involved.

Aang is easily the most adult member of the Gaang. But he apparently gets hate for his few moments where he actually acts his age, a preteen, and maybe kisses a girl in a historical timeframe in which ‘consent’ discussions were probably nonexistent. Even in the present day, we are still practically drowned in movies that reinforce this kissing without asking trope. And even some female bodied people complain that asking kills the mood! But somehow he is responsible and reprehensible for this, even though the first time she kissed him back. I’m only going to get into the pacifism discussion today, but that was just another layer of annoyance bouncing around in the back of my head. Other peoples’ crit of Korra that was stewing in my subconscious, plus this Aang bashing, which thankfully I had not directly read much of, made up the backdrop of gasoline for the match that set it off. Even that seems a pretty melodramatic way to phrase what I actually said, which was: Aang, on the other hand, lost dozens of father figures and was being steamrolled by Ozai who was gloating about genocide TO HIS FACE, yet he still reigned in all that quote, ‘unbelievable rage and pain’ (The Southern Raiders). We Stan Aang, the Superior Avatar. No I did not f**king stutter. #AangSupremacy In another meta, someone complained that I was too defensive of Aang as a character and didn’t apply literary analysis enough, which I quickly rectified.

What set this off? Someone was kind of indirectly praising the line from Korra, “When I get out of here, none of you will survive” To them it was emotionally resonant or whatever, and I have to point out that no, it was a martial artist not having control of their state of mind, as is the bedrock of the practice. It was never addressed by the narrative, which is a severe oversight. I had a conversation with someone in the chats, making this distinction between Korra’s character traits and life philosophy. If she were to kill people while enraged and she was fine with that, that’s one thing. But if she regretted it, that’s a whole other kettle of fish. People argue that she comes from a warrior culture, unlike Aang.

Never mind that warrior monks are a thing. That’s what Shaolin monks are. You can be a pacifist and skilled at fighting. Those things are not mutually exclusive, which is the whole point of Bagua, Aang’s style. And also, Katara’s style.

That’s one reason I like Kataang so much- their congruent styles. Both of their real world martial arts are dedicated to pacifism, even though ATLA specifically doesn’t spell that out for Katara and her learning arc.

There was a meta where someone briefly tried to argue that knowing “martial arts” is against pacifism. No. Quite the opposite. I’d argue that you are not a true pacifist unless you know exactly how to handle yourself if someone attacks you. If you are not in a position to make conscious decisions about how much force to use, rather than merely operating on survival instincts, that is not pacifism. Or at least, not any energy or effort towards pacifism as a practical everyday tool. I’ve made a few attempts to learn some tai chi and aikido, and it’s improved my physical and mental health, but some other things have gotten in the way. #lifegoals

I’m not going to tag the unfortunate soul whom I was replying to, because they’re probably tired of all this, but I’ll be sending them a PM to say that I’ve made this into a different post, because as I mentioned before, threads are somehow considered “owned” by OP, so it’s been pointed out to me that I should separate it. I also said, I have basically ZERO respect for Korra uttering violent threats when the writers already minted a far more emotionally devastated and yet still resilient and centered character earlier in their franchise. People always try to excuse away people who genuinely like Aang more. As if it’s just nostalgia or whatever. For me, no, it’s absolutely not. It is respect for a character who stands toe to toe with real people who are kind in the face of overwhelming injustice. (I have another meta on that).

Both OP and people in the chats try to make excuses that she wasn’t raised as a pacifist, and that would be fine if they had addressed it with Tenzin and she had stated outright that she was rejecting pacifism and mind training. As it is, we are left with this nebulous affair where the lines between ideology and personality traits are blurred.

We are told she “has trouble with spirituality” but what does that even mean? Does she have trouble with focus? Does she have trouble relating to the canonically real spirits? And pacifism specifically nor inner peace that it flows from is never even talked about as an extension of spirituality, which is canonically tied to airbending.

“Aang didn't have to deal once with the loss of his autonomy in atla” OP claims.

This was after I had noted that Aang was getting kicked around by Ozai and was most likely going to die. Similarly, someone in the chat rejected the idea that a 12 year old trapped in a stone sphere that is heating up under a cyclone-sized blowtorch feels powerless.

Sorry but that’s flat out ridiculous.

No one wants to admit that both of these people were faced with similar situations, and when push came to shove, one showed his LIFE PHILOSOPHY through conscious effort, and the other was abandoning the basis of martial arts, which is, no matter what the situation, keep thinking. Hold the panic at bay. Non-attachment would have served her well in this situation. Tenzin should have told her this. Before, or afterwards. It should have been addressed in the writing.

People see this as “bashing” Korra, and oh well, can’t help that. If I think the writers didn’t follow through on their themes, that is my concern. OP said I was “offended.” No, not really.

I wasn’t offended by the post itself, or its commentary. Thought I made that pretty clear.

This is not dramatics. Let me be blunt.

As a ideological pacifist, and an actual practitioner of meditation, based on Buddhism, NOT just the fan of some show, I am for calling out writers who write one way from the survivor of genocide, and then stray from that ‘thoughtless aggression is immoral no matter HOW hurt I am’ to ‘let’s not address this character’s aggression in the narrative whatsoever.’ OP attempted to derail by accusing me of being racist or sexist against Korra. Also ridiculous. It honestly should have set me off more, but it didn’t.

Meditation is about reigning in your emotions. Managing your anger when it gets out of hand, and digging down to the roots of it. Being responsible for your own behavoir. Acknowledging ownership of your own actions. Not blaming anything YOU DO on anyone else or any circumstances in your life. Like an adult, or should I say, an enlightened adult.

Or at the very least, that is the ideal ypu strive towards while being imperfect in the present.

. . .

Now.

I’m going to quote a passage in a Google Doc of mine, even though I’d really prefer if you asked to read the whole thing, with context.

“What do humans do when it is necessary to, or greed makes a nation want to recruit?

They go to the army to get trained, right?

Granted, having someone scream and get spittle on your face is, in the grand scheme of things, poor preparation for having bullets whiz past your chest and grenades shatter your ears. And, what do you do to prepare you for the pain of getting your leg blown off? Hopefully, nothing. Like taking a test where you only got half the study guide. But, it’s about the most ethical way to go about it, right?

Not everyone even sees action. So any more more extensive mental preparation for physical pain than that, and you’d have people definitely protesting.

Well, as it turns out, pacifistic protestors themselves, if they were in the right time and place, also very intentionally do this type of mind training. Except, when they did it, they actually did sit still and took turns roughly grabbing each other and throwing each other down and in some cases, even kicking and bruising each other.

Turns out, those pacifists are, in some ways, more hardcore than the army.

Why is this?

Because a pacifist’s aim, unlike a unit, who wants to gain the upper hand in a situation, is to grit their teeth and grind their way through all those survival instincts, and totally submit.

In this, they aim to get the sympathy of the public, who clearly sees they are not aggressive, or a danger, no matter how much the footage is manipulated or suppressed.

In this, they hope to appeal to their attacker’s better nature.

Make them stop and think, wait a second, are these people a threat like we’re told they are? I’m attacking someone who’s letting me beat them up. Or a bunch of people. All forming a line, and letting us peel them off. Or sitting, and bowing their heads. If I’m on the ‘right’ side of things, the law, why am I doing this?

It’s not like a bully, who’s just a kid.” They’re more self-aware.

And might I add the situation influences a pacifist’s actions too. There’s no reason to let a single or a few random attackers beat you up if you can evade or disable without permanent damage.

Pacifism is a dynamic set of responsive actions informed by values. Not a proscribed set or a checklist.

But in terms of organizing against state power, and recording wrongdoing, which unlike during the Civil Rights can happen from all angles from smart phones nowadays, these are the motivations.

“So, the pacifist knows this, and that’s why they go through all that trouble of training themselves to, not only submit, but not turn tail and run, either.”

See, a character trait is something like being a morning person, or ways of handing information, or a given set of emotions a character feels. Once you cross over into actions, you must make the distinction of whether an impulsive character agrees with their own uncontrolled actions, or is embarrassed or remorseful. Those are life philosophy. Now sure, one type of person or character may be more likely to subscribe to pacifism, but there is no gatekeeping on what you have to feel or how you look at things. You can be easygoing, or feel all the rage in the world, but as long as you at least attempt to have a handle on those desires and feelings to where they do not cross into actions, you are still doing the work of metacognition, which is what martial arts and its accompanying mind training are for.

It’s what we see Aang do.

He’s informed us, during the Southern Raiders, on how much rage and pain he feels.

Pain points, TRIGGERS, that were directly struck at when Ozai gloated over him.

He joins with all the past Avatars for several moments, and just like every other time he is in the Avatar State, he is enraged. He wants to exact revenge on the unrepentant grandson of a baby murderer.

We see it when he turns his head away, face still screwed up in anger.

For another example, I could cite my difficulties in being aware and reining in my tongue sometimes. I know the roots of these issues and I seek to let them go.

It’s just that process takes way longer than Guru Pathik would have us assume.

In fact, I would even say that Aang’s portrayal throughout the three seasons is not strictly a realistic representation of at least the sad side of grief. I addressed that a little when I talked about real life figures. But what it IS, is a metaphor that cuts very deep to the heart of pacifism. As I showed in that Doc . . . There is no limit of suffering a pacifist is willing to go through, internal or external, for the preservation of peace.

This was demonstrated during the Civil Rights, and with Gandhi and all his followers beforehand, inspiring them. The pacifists’ method of swaying hearts is probably the reason BLM exists in such numbers as it does today. Will the types of narratives that correspond with their full stories of the way they collectively planned and trained for and approached conflict make it into fantasy media? I’d say, probably not. For a host of reasons.

It could be hoped for, I guess.

But we DO have Aang.

As for myself, whether speaking sharply is an “action,” per se is up for debate- certainly it doesn’t seem to violate the non-aggression principle put forth by the vision of a “stateless society.”

For another example, let’s take my explanation at the beginning. I am examining how circumstances affected my actions, and now am attempting to fix it, if indeed it needs to be fixed.

At least one person said that it not so much what I said, but how and when I said it. I don’t actually think I’ve said anything “wrong” per se. So I have to figure it out.

[I’m considering splitting up this next part into a second post, as it only slightly relates to pacifism itself and is just kinda some more commentary on Tumblr itself- Tumblr discourse, as it were]

[I’ll put more brackets when I’m done in case you want to skip this part as well]

An interesting social difference between Tumblr and other places is this command you often get, “don’t chat/reblog/message me back.”

This is interesting for several reasons. For chats and reblogs, other people may be following the “conversation,” so it’s actually pretty rude and presumptuous to tell a person not to respond to whatever you said, because other people watching still may be interested in your take.

In a forum setting, if someone involved in a conversation doesn’t have anything left to say, usually they just don’t respond.

This method would work perfectly fine for Tumblr, but for some reason, maybe its super odd format, probably due to the “ownership”/“extension of self” I mentioned at the beginning of the essay, people don’t tend to do this.

Now, in comment sections, sometimes you’ll run across an amusing sort of “mutually assured destruction” where two people both say this to each other. You’d better stop responding. Omg just give up. Why are you still arguing. Etc.

But see, no matter where this behavoir pops up, and no matter who starts in on it, those who do this usually want to have the last say on the matter.

Instead of merely not replying, they want to assert verbal control over the conversation.

Tumblr, in its weirdness, is also sort of like a mutant comments section. You can post comment section threads as your own post.

Which is one reason why I’m puzzled when people say ‘don’t read the comment sections’ when Tumblr is so popular.

I’m an oddball in that I browse comment sections for fun.

Probably due to alexithymia, I didn’t really comprehend the emotional toll it takes on many people, so the warnings to “stay out of comment sections” read to me like “hey don’t eat that dessert.” After I’m done with the ‘meal’ of an article or art, I like to see what lots of different people have to say about it. The fluff. Anything vitriolic I either blip over, or extract anything useful, or if I judge the person is reasonable enough, I might engage.

Sometimes I mis-judge on how reasonable someone is, and I shrug and move on after being cussed out or whatever.

In this, I suppose I succeed much of the time in being a verbal pacifist.

[But let’s get back to the more serious stuff.]

We’re talking about what is done in life or death situations, here.

For myself, I may in the near future be working more with dangerously mentally ill people. I’ve had a little exposure to it through various means. Nurses are obligated not to retaliate against patients, and those who have, have been fired in some situations. Again oddly, this is not primarily what triggers my anxiety. Unfortunately enough, this requirement has also resulted in nurses getting seriously injured and violated. I hope to influence whether “no harm” techniques such as tai chi and aikido and arm locks may be allowed. The voluntary philosophy I was luckily already on board with is enforced by bureauacracy, directly relevant to my potential profession.

Were someone to get involved in a dangerous profession, such as a police officer, their moral duty would also be to own up to any spur of the moment anger or fear they acted on.

It’s just that their bureaucracy acts differently, in excusing their actions.

Ideally, they would be taking steps far in advance, to avoid this often-cited fear of death reaction. As training pacifists like Aang do.

And yes, army people are trained differently than police officers because the army, often, even when threatened, is supposed to avoid engagement or deploy deterrents that are non-lethal almost all costs, unless ordered otherwise. Whereas American police are given pretty much complete discretion and often not taught de-escalation techniques. Even police from other nations are better trained in that regard.

Enter the ironically named @avatarfandompolice whose account description should really speak for itself. Combative, dismissive, and their attention-hungry bread and butter is to find people they think it’s acceptable to ridicule. They basically tried to say trauma was a valid excuse to take out your anger on other people, and in this situation, potentially kill.

Now, does this hold up in the real world? Yeah, sometimes. Especially if some law breaker or law keeper has not been given the anger management tools, they perhaps could be excused, or better yet, rehabilitated.

But especially if anyone finds themselves in dangerous situations, or intends to put themselves in such, it falls to them to do this preparation.

As an aphant, I am at a bit of a disadvantage, compared to an average martial artist, being unable to visualize an attacker. But I still attempt it.

As the main “police officer” of the world- the coincidentally blue clad figurehead that is supposed to keep order, it is apparently fine for Korra to not do the work Aang did to keep level. To blow it off as too much trouble: clearing the First Chakra of fear. For herself or others. And its resultant anger. Had she had access to the Avatar State, the authority figure pretty much would have killed people. This is what the “fandom police” and a certain chat goer ultimately support. Maybe they didn’t understand it that way, and since the second had blocked me, they will also never see this explanation. Unless I were to share it in Google Doc form I suppose.

So, I responded. “Remember kids, you are not responsible for your own behavior if you have the excuse that someone else did something bad to you.” A frighteningly common sentiment on this site.

When it’s low stakes like CAPSLOCKING or internet fights, that’s not such a big deal. But what happens if this attitude leaks into the real world? This isn’t even about Korra or Aang anymore, it’s about toxic mindsets. I didn’t know fans taking pro-Korra posts as anti-Aang was a common in the fandom. I’ll say again I’ve only just gotten really active on Tumblr like the past few months. This is about pacifism itself. MLK and his hardworking, training followers (yes some of them sixteen and POC and not super-powered like Korra) facing down firehoses and staging sit-ins long trained for would shake their heads at this defense of reactionism.

Pacifism is not a Personality Trait.

It is deliberate actions and preparation taken over a period of time.

Then the “fandom police” tried more of this, and these two conversations ensued, the comments with another user resulting in the title and main thesis of this essay:

https://captlok.tumblr.com/post/638777472806273024/avatarfandompolice-response-to-my-independent

https://captlok.tumblr.com/post/638806142933467136/the-plight-was-not-what-i-was-getting-at-it-was

#atla #lok #atlok #atla meta #pacifism #martin luther king #civil rights era #history #blm #mlk #mlkday2021

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winryofresembool · 4 years

Text

Caleo fic: It’s all about the name

Chapters 3-4(/5)

Summary: Calypso is a barista at a coffee shop and one day she gets a customer who refuses to give her his real name. At first he seems really annoying but eventually Calypso finds out not all is what it looks like on the surface. (Coffee shop AU!)

a/n: More updates! Only one more to go after these two chapters that I'm posting today. I would have loved to make this au even longer but time is a b*tch and I'm really itching to continue working on twlitf already.

Hope you enjoy and please do leave me comments because even if I have almost finished this fic, I definitely want to know what you guys think!

Words: 3,6k+

Genre: fluff, humor

Warnings: none

previous chapters / AO3

...

The next day, the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ showed up at the coffee shop just like he had promised. He didn’t have to ask for Calypso because she spotted him from afar, being rather easy to recognize. They didn’t have a lot of customers wearing an army jacket over an orange shirt, tools hanging from the pockets, and the bottom half being the work coveralls. At least he had left his backpack home this time, Calypso sighed with relief. She couldn’t deny, though, that in a weird way that outfit suited him. As she saw him more closely, she noticed he seemed pretty cheerful, which was probably a good sign. Or then he was just preparing to annoy her some more and was already looking forward to that. Calypso supposed she’d find out soon enough.

Either way, she stepped closer to the counter so the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ could see her better.

“So you did come,” she greeted him and he gave her that annoying grin of his that seemed to come so naturally.

“Why, of course,” he responded. “Couldn’t possibly have missed the opportunity to see the Sunshine again.”

“Are you flirting with me? Because I swear, if you are, it’s not going to work,” Calypso told him bluntly, still having her latest relationship too fresh in her mind.

“That’s crazy talk,” the guy responded, putting his hand over his chest. “How would I even dare to flirt with you? You’re way out of my league.”

“Out of your league? Uh, I don’t know about that,” Calypso mumbled, more to herself than to him. The broken relationships had left a mark on her self esteem and she didn’t consider herself as someone to be looked up to.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” the guy said, looking confused.

“Um, nothing,” Calypso tried to brush it off. “It was not relevant. But enough with that; what are you going to order? Remember, it’s on the house. Do you want the double espresso you ordered yesterday or something else?”

“I’d rather have something else,” the guy said, his gaze going back and forth between Calypso and the menu. “Truth to be told, I’m not big on coffee. I’ve noticed it makes me even more hyper than I already am. ADHD and all that good stuff, you know. Yesterday was a special occasion because I had to work overtime.”

“Alright, what will that something else be then?” Calypso asked, feeling that a lot of things about this guy already made more sense.

“Anything with no caffeine would be good. What would you rec? You’re the expert on your menu, after all,” he noted.

“Do you like sweet things?” Calypso asked.

“Sweet is fine, yeah,” the guy agreed.

“Then how about hot chocolate? We’re pretty generous with the whipped cream we add on it,” Calypso promised. “And we can even add marshmallows if you like those.”

“I think just the cream will be fine, don’t wanna be in a complete sugar coma when I need to go back to work,” the guy noted. “To go, by the way. I can’t stay long.”

“Fine, one hot chocolate without marshmallows coming then. Will you finally tell me your name?” Calypso asked.

“Super-sized McShizzle,” the guy replied without missing a beat.

“Just when I thought that you might be an OK guy after all…” Calypso said but the tone of her voice told she wasn’t being serious.

“What’s life without some mystery, Sunshine?” He smiled at her and Calypso wondered briefly what the hell this conversation was about really.

“Yeah, what indeed?” she responded. Then she realized that the silly conversation had been going on long enough for a small queue form behind the guy. “Well, Johnny.” His mouth twitched when she said the new made up name. “Your hot chocolate will be waiting for you at the other counter in a minute. And I hope you won’t scare me so much this time that I’ll drop the drink.”

“Will try to not do that.”

The Super-sized McShizzle or Bad Boy Supreme moved to the other counter, and as Calypso was shaking the canned whipped cream, she was still playing the conversation in her head. For an outsider it probably seemed like they were being rude to each other. But Calypso thought she had learned to read this stranger a bit better already and guessed he actually enjoyed their bickering - and she had to admit that some part of her enjoyed them as well. Drawing a small heart after the made up name Johnny, she finally approached him at the counter and managed to deliver the hot chocolate without messing anything up. ‘Johnny’ took it gratefully but he gave her a funny look when he read his name on the cup.

“Aw, you even drew a heart there!” He noted. “I am starting to think you have started warming up to me.”

“No way. You? Why would I do that?” Calypso raised her eyebrow questioningly, but it probably wasn’t very effective thanks to her red cheeks.

“Because all the ladies love…” he checked his name from the cup again. “Johnny?”

“You should learn to know when to stop,” Calypso warned, rolling her eyes, but her mouth betrayed her.

“Oh c’mon, your mouth just twitched. I saw it,” the guy said. Then he took a swig from his cup and hummed approvingly. “Yup. This is the stuff. Not bad, Sunshine, I would definitely drink this again.”

“I’m glad you like it, especially since it’s supposed to be my apology to you.”

“In that case, apology accepted.” ‘Johnny’ wiped his mouth and checked the clock on the wall. “Well, I won’t bother you more this time because Jo is expecting me to be back at the garage any minute now. I was surprised she allowed me to come here in the first place but she seemed to think it’s good for me to meet new people. Apparently I spend too much time at work. But oh well, if I want to buy a car I need to save a lot of money…”

“That’s why you’re working overtime?” Calypso asked curiously.

“Yeah… I’ve been moving from place to place almost my whole life so at least owning a car would make it easier… Unless I find some reason to stay somewhere.” He shrugged, looking more serious than he had the whole time he’d been there. “I don’t know. But yeah, I should get going now. Maybe I’ll see around some time, though.” His smile returned. “This place is definitely better than I first thought.”

“Yeah, maybe I will see you around,” Calypso said, feeling a bit flustered again. It seemed that there was a lot more to this stranger’s story than she had first imagined. The small glimpses of the reality behind his jokes gave her a picture of a restless, unsure young man who was still looking for his place in the world. That piqued her interest and made her wish she really would see him again.

…

The mystery guy started visiting the coffee shop regularly during his breaks. After a couple of weeks Calypso already knew that his boss was called Jo and she was married to a woman called Emmie who handled the flower shop side of the business and they had an adoptive daughter Georgina. Even though the mystery guy hadn’t stayed in town for more than a couple of months so far, he seemed to have formed a strong bond with these people and especially adored the little Georgie whom he treated almost like a sister. Calypso also knew that the guy’s best friends were called Jason and Piper but unfortunately they were currently studying in another town so he couldn’t see them that often. He also had a pet lizard called Festus who apparently liked to nibble pretty much everyone except his fingers. Despite knowing all of that, there was still something Calypso didn’t know about him.

“Let’s play the game: guess my name,” the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ suggested one time when he was ordering a soda. “What do you think?”

Calypso thought about it for a moment. “Alright. Mike? Chris? Alex? Peter? Luke?”

“No, no, no, no and no,” he answered without hesitating, his mouth curled up with amusement.

“Ed? Sebastian? Jake? Thomas? Leon?” Calypso kept throwing in random names that came to her mind.

“Still no to all,” the mystery guy shook his head. “Although those were not half bad guesses. I wouldn’t mind being called Ed. A character in one of my favorite animes is called that and he’s quite a badass.”

“You watch anime?” Calypso asked curiously. “I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”

“Well, I’m full of surprises.” He smirked before turning more serious. “Um, truth to be told, Georgina keeps ranting about her favorite animes when she’s hanging out at the garage with me and one time I just decided to binge watch some of them to be able to keep up with her. Turns out some of them are actually quite solid. Like this Fullmetal Alchemist. Ahem, but that probably isn’t interesting to you so I’ll stop now.”

“No, don’t worry about it!” Calypso reassured him. “I like hearing about your interests. I am not that familiar with anime but maybe some time you can recommend something to me to watch when I have more free time.”

“Yeah, maybe.” The guy smiled before turning a bit hesitant. “Um, I know you’re probably busy and stuff but I have a free chair at my table if you happen to be in need of a break. Just sayin’, but it’s OK if you can’t.”

Calypso was surprised that he asked so bluntly. The truth was that a bit before his appearance she had already considered taking a break so the timing was good enough and she decided to accept his offer. It was a quiet moment at the coffee shop so her coworkers were fine with it as well.

“You know now that I watch anime but what about your interests?” the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ asked once they had settled down at an empty table. “What do you do outside this coffee shop?”

“You really want to know?” Calypso questioned.

“Of course I do!” he said immediately. “I’ve revealed quite a bit about myself so it’s your turn now.”

Calypso felt a bit hesitant about talking about personal stuff, possibly afraid her mystery customer would judge her. “I, um… I have a mini garden on my balcony… I grow some edible plants there. I also enjoy reading because it's a good distraction from some unwanted thoughts.”

“I can relate to that,” the guy confessed but didn’t elaborate. Calypso wondered briefly what he may have wanted distraction from.

“Yeah…” she said instead of asking more because she doubted he would have liked that. “When I was a kid, I used to do a lot of music related things, like sing, play the piano and stuff like that but I stopped at some point because my father seemed to think it’s a waste of time. So, yeah. I was pretty upset about that. Who knows, maybe when I have more money I’ll be able to take more classes again… Lately I’ve been trying to express myself by painting, though, because watercolors are luckily cheap and I really needed something to do after…” She stopped when she realized she was about to reveal too much.

“After what?” the guy wanted to know.

“I don’t even know your name so I have no idea why I’m telling you this… but I guess it can’t hurt. I can trust you, right?”

“Of course!” her chat mate assured.

Calypso sighed before continuing. “I recently broke up with someone with whom I had been in quite a long relationship. Yeah, looking back to it, maybe it was for the best because clearly he wasn’t as invested as I was, but it still hurt to hear that he wanted to break up with me because there was someone else in his life. So, that’s why I’ve needed more distractions lately.” When she saw his serious expression, she rushed to add: “Don’t worry about me, though, I’m fine. I’ve already accepted that this is how it is. Trust me, it’s better that way. But it explains why I was so grumpy on that day we met.”

“Oh, OK. Sorry about that guy. I think he made a big ass mistake there but unfortunately some of us can be kinda blind… Hey, what are you staring at?” he asked when he noticed her watching him weirdly. In reality, Calypso had felt a small, unexpected tug at her heart because of his niceness but she tried to cover it by shaking her head.

“Nothing. Sorry. I was just thinking about something. But I should get back to work, the coffee isn’t going to serve itself.”

“I guess it isn’t. Well, talk to you later,” the guy said but from the corner of her eye Calypso could see that he was probably wondering what had just happened there.

Chapter 4

Time passed, but some things didn’t change:

“So… when will you finally reveal your name to me? We’ve known each other for several weeks now and you’re still being so mysterious,” Calypso noted one day when the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ showed up at the coffee shop again. Like earlier, she had asked her coworkers if she could have her break so she could talk with him and they had accepted her request but given each other funny glances behind Calypso’s back, as if saying ‘we know what you are doing here’.

“I will do that when you finally call me Bad Boy Supreme instead of Johnny or Ben or David or whatever fake name you come up with each time.” He just smirked at her and Calypso 100% expected him to keep his word.

“No. That’s the one thing I cannot do, you weirdo,” she said stubbornly.

“Alright, then no can do,” he teased.

Calypso did continue asking him about other things, though, and got some answers.

“Why did you want to become a mechanic? Is it just because cars are cool or did you have some deeper reason for that?”

“Actually, my dream is to become a mechanical engineer so I get better tools to invent - and fix - all sorts of things, not just cars, but at the moment I don’t have enough money to go to college. So, I’m working to save up for that too, not just for the car. I know, sounds like a mission impossible. I will have to work about ten thousand years to save that much. I’ve just… always enjoyed building and fixing things, ever since I watched my mum do that when I was a kid… It’s in my blood.”

“Oh… then your mum must be proud that you want to follow her footsteps!” Calypso said gently, but the guy’s expression darkened.

“Yeah… maybe she would be… if she was still alive.”

“Oh no!” Calypso covered her mouth with her hands when she realized her mistake. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“It’s OK,” he sighed. “I’m starting to get used to it.”

There was a moment of silence before Calypso asked: “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… when did it happen?”

The guy looked at her darkly. “I was 8 then… So over 10 years ago. Not exactly breaking news anymore. Been going from home to home since then until I got old enough to live on my own; my dear dad didn’t care about me enough to keep me.”

“Wow… I’m sorry… You just give me such a happy and outgoing picture of yourself that I couldn’t imagine… ugh, just ignore me, please. I need to stop rambling now,” Calypso said with embarrassment, blushing slightly.

The guy surprised both Calypso and himself by what he did next: he reached for her hand to reassure her.

“Hey, relax. I only told that to you because you seem like someone I can trust. Not a lot of those people in my life. But yeah, there’s no need to be embarrassed; you couldn’t have known.”

“Oh… I guess I should be honored then. Since you were honest with me, I’m gonna be too: I didn’t exactly have the best of childhoods either. My parents fought a lot before breaking up and my dad… he could be scary when he wanted to. He had to get things done his way and if he didn’t like something… he’d let us know, loudly. I guess some of my temper issues may stem from there.”

“Still thinking about that time when you yelled at me?” the guy asked. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not afraid of you.”

“That’s good to hear,” Calypso laughed nervously, tugging a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, when my parents got divorced, my father insisted I live with him instead of mum and that did not end up going well. His idea of good parenting was buying me expensive things I didn’t care about, while I could tell that in reality he couldn’t care less if I was there or not. He just wanted to humiliate my mother. I ended up moving out as early as possible, but that’s a whole other story…”

“And that’s why you’re working here now?” The Bad Boy Supreme wanted to know. “Because you desperately needed money? I mean, no offense, but I get a vibe from you that you don’t actually enjoy working here.”

Calypso glanced at her surroundings, making sure none of her coworkers and especially not the manager could hear her answer. Then she sighed. “Yeah. You’re not wrong. I did have some dreams when I was younger but… it’s like you said, it would take me about ten thousand years to be able to afford studying. The rent here isn’t free and I don’t even want to think about the college tuitions. Obviously my dad could afford them easily but I’m not going to stoop so low that I would ask him. I am not going to owe anyone, especially not him.”

The ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ gave her an approving half smile. “I see we have something in common, after all. We both have dreams that seem to be hard to achieve. And I definitely wouldn’t want to owe to my no good old man either. And families… Those can be bitches. But not something bad if not something good; thanks to my round around the country I feel like I may have finally found a place where I could maybe picture myself staying more than just a few months. The coffee here isn’t half bad and the people are decent too.” He winked at her, and she knew his words were actually quite a big compliment from him. Despite that, she pretended to be annoyed by his comment, putting her hands on her waist.

“Not half bad? I don’t even remember you ordering coffee since that little incident – and you didn’t get your coffee back then - so how can you have an opinion on it?”

“That’s the thing, I didn’t get my coffee so that’s why it’s only ‘not half bad’ and not the ‘best coffee I’ve ever had’” he smiled at her smugly. “However, the hot chocolate was definitely worth getting yelled at.”

Calypso hated how contagious his smile was but she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m glad to hear that.”

They were silent for a moment before the guy started: “Hey, listen… would you like to…”

His question was interrupted, though, because a customer nearby started causing ruckus, claiming the tea water was too cold (even though Calypso knew her coworkers always made sure it was hot enough) and the piece of cake was dry (even though someone had cut fresh pieces like half an hour ago) and she wanted her money back. Reyna was serving her and trying to politely say that she was sorry the customer felt that way and that they’d make sure to do better the next time, but the customer wouldn’t listen. Calypso could tell Reyna’s patience was running thin so she decided to finish her break then and there and go to help, but she had only managed to stand up from her chair when she noticed that she wasn’t the only one wanting to defend the honor of their coffee shop.

“Hey, you,” ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ said loudly, addressing the woman who had complained. “Don’t like, don’t buy. It’s as simple as that. There are other places where you can get your low fat cake with extra cream on the top that will surely match your interests better.”

The woman just glared at him, going slightly red from her face, before dramatically turning away and leaving the coffee house. Calypso sighed of relief, thankful that nothing worse happened.

“That wasn’t really necessary, you know,” she tried to scold her companion but the attempt was half hearted. “I’m sure Reyna would have been able to handle it.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t have a doubt about that,” he said. “But sometimes it’s fun to let those privileged douches hear it. You guys are just too polite. Well, most of the time. I guess some customers do have a way to crawl under your skin but that requires special talent.” He grinned at her in a way that may have tried to be flirty but failing.

“Oh, yeah, a special talent indeed,” Calypso confirmed, throwing her long braid over her shoulder. “I’m the epitome of patience, as we know. Well, I should get back to work now; my coworkers are probably waiting for me already.” She looked at Reyna apologetically but she didn’t seem to mind one bit. “It was nice talking to you, though, Raymond.”

“That’s the best you can come up with? C’mon, you can do better than that,” ‘Raymond’ protested but waved her a goodbye with a big smile on his face. Calypso gave him a shy smile back.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics

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hamliet · 4 years

Note

I think your blog is one of the best out there. Maybe becuase of this , maybe because of your awesome takes... I find it hard being in the fandom. And I wanted to share this very unpopular opinion. The more it goes on the more I wonder : how did Enji turned into this? Most of all in fandom tends to justify touya because he’s the result of Enji’s abuse. However Enji isn’t a natural born abuser. I’ve read and saw plenty: he has not manias of control. He accept easily his wife to leave him (he wanted to build an house for her and since Shoto’s accident he hadn’t forced himself on her). He wanted an heir, true and he was more neglecting (which is a form of abuse). But many time were found evidences in studies neglecting parents have issues of their own. Which can be found in their original family and / or society (if no mental illnesses are implied).

This made me wonder. I love Japanese culture , novels and society. And one of the most recurrent theme , especially some decades ago, is the high pressure people are exposed. It was and sometimes still is a nichilist model in which you die or fly and sometime you can’t hope to Rise once again when you fail. For example the concept of “you need to go at a go prek to get in a good university and find a good job” is often depict and put to extreme in many media. This inspire even books in which families are up for anything to push their children and they are under great pressure. Since Enji seems a not so bad man per se, has no mental illnesses , the only thing left is his immense obsession that must come from something. And the fact that in society a man must be successful... I think here it is.

The fact he can’t express his feeling correctly for the most of MHA , neither he can’t read them at the point of being perceived “with no compassion at all” comply the stereotype of the father with way too high standard , this can’t come from nothing. It’s not hard unreasonable thinking he was most likely pressured as much when younger , and that broke him at some point (which is a recursive theme in many others novels). This doesn’t justify him, but it might explain why he ended up like this.

But while everyone seems to be able to... forgive dabi , justifying his doings becuase of how he was raised while condamning 100% Enji. However the lingering theme of my hero’s villains is that they aren’t a monster , they’re turned into one; and society played a huge role. I don’t stand for Enji’s actions (who would) but ultimately? If all villains were broken by society at some point (being AFO the only exception for now) why can’t be him too? Broken by a society that demands from heroes to be perfect , to never be weak, even through total desperation? Society even made a joke of all might who gave his life entirely and part of his organs for Japan. Rather than only condemning Enji for his doings , much like is doing with Dabi, the spotlight should be society again.

He did wrong. Terribly wrong. and now everyone is ready to crucify him. But how society taught him better ? How society perceive heroes as humans , how far they can be weak and fails and not be blamed? Like father , like son. Touya is the result of his family , I think it should be considerated Enji was the product of a corrupted society. Which never correct itself , never tries to change... they just discard heroes and villains alike just for not being “perfect”.

Hi! Aw, thank you for your kind words <3

So, I’ll break this down a bit, because I think this discussion needs a lot of nuance. I agree society affected Enji, but I don’t quite think that a victim of society is remotely comparable to being a victim of parental abuse.

To start with, I fundamentally disagree with the notion that abusers are born, and hence don’t buy that Enji is somehow different (or better) because he wasn’t born that way.

To note, I talking specifically about physical/emotional/spiritual domestic abuse, not about sexual abuse (and I don’t wanna talk about that because it’s not relevant here, so no one send me asks about it, thanks).

Abuse is a description of an action and its affects. I’ll quote @linkspooky’s meta on Hawks last week: abuser is not a bad word, it’s not just something that bad people do. It’s an unhealthy relationship dynamic that even good people, even sympathetic people can participate in. It’d be great if we could just do a genetic test and determine if someone is an abuser (actually it wouldn’t be great; it’d be dystopian and terrifying), but that’s not how people work.

However, “abuser” is seen as a bad word, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing (nuance/abuse is horrific and takes such a toll on people that I’m glad it is given serious weight in some respects, although imo it’s overemphasized in fandom places and underemphasized in real life) and I’m not getting into good/bad/pluses/minuses of linguistic connotations here.

Hence, I would actually categorize what Rei did to Shouto as abuse, and I do think the story indicates she was neglectful towards her other children. However, I have never labeled her an “abuser” because of the negative connotation as is clear she is not a repeat offender and Shouto doesn’t even blame her--he blames Enji, and I don’t think that’s an incorrect assessment either. It’s complicated. Abuse victims can be abusers at the same time as they are victims (ask many a kid of an abusive dad what their mom was like; at best if they didn’t intervene it’s usually neglectful and often people go no contact with both parents). People we love and care for can participate in abuse.

Mental illness is also complex in its relationship to abuse. Mentally ill people are far more likely to be victims of abuse than perpetrators, and mental illness doesn’t make someone predisposed to being a bad person. Mental illness does affect how I see Rei’s actions, because she was clearly out of her mind at the moment she burned Shouto’s face; at the same time, mental illness doesn’t erase harm done even if the person can’t be held super culpable. Enji on the other hand was not mentally ill in the same way; he was able to think logically and separate right from wrong even within society (because society clearly still views beating your kids as bad).

It’s actually not really accurate to say that Endeavor didn’t try to control Rei and just let her go--he put her in the institution to keep her away from Shouto, which may have been motivated of course by trying to protect Shouto, but was more likely “trying to protect his masterpiece.” Rei instantly regretted what she had done; Enji didn’t show regret until after Kamino. Also, Shouto himself views it as taking their mother away, not as protecting him. In fact, he sees it as removing his protector and leaving him with just the abusive dad. Plus, Rei’s doctors probably wouldn’t have let him see her. So I absolutely do think Enji is a control freak.

For Enjii, there’s no indication of prior trauma besides just not getting what he wanted. But, as you say, I do think Enji was absolutely a product of society--culturally, though I’m not qualified to comment on that, and within the manga’s own framing of that culture. However, while Enji is a product of society, he is not framed with the child framing that is present around Touya; hence, why he’s not a victim in the same sense. He was an adult when he started doing bad things, capable of reason, as far as we know and there’s no indication this isn’t the case. He was ~20 when Dabi was born, so that means he was looking for a quirk marriage at the very latest by 19. That’s like starting your career as an administrative assistant and being pissed you’re not CEO like, a year after starting! That implies that he had a sense of entitlement at a very young age, entitled to the point of believing kids were not full people but instead extensions of himself to ignore, beat up, and cast aside as he pleased. Every aspect of Enji’s personality screams of toxic masculinity as well.

Also, almost every person who has ever done something wrong (and those who haven’t!) is a product of their environment as well as of their genetics, but I wouldn’t classify everyone as a victim--even though technically I suppose they would be, but the connotations are just not particularly fitting--and I wouldn’t call Enji one. Enji might be a product of society, but his kids are victims of a deliberate choice he had to be a terrible parent. Society sucks, but we don’t choose it and it doesn’t choose us in the same sense a parent chooses to treat their kids a particular way. So, rather than saying Enji’s a victim of society, I think it’s more of society reaping what they’ve sown in terms of their #1 being revealed as a mass abuser; it’s karmic.

So to return to his character and Enji is also a representation of toxic masculinity--that is why for me personally, his crying this chapter actually resonated. Like, I think it was well-framed in that his victims didn’t feel sorry for him and he cried before he knew they were coming, and while I get that people think he has no right to cry (as Rei and Natsuo said!). I see why people interpret that as manipulative, and while I absolutely think it was self-pitying, I also personally see it as human and realistic, and perhaps as a slight chipping away of the toxic masculinity that he embodies. We’ll see. I’m still no fan but that was the first moment in his redemption arc that struck me as sincere.

#Anonymous #abuse tw #endeavor

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canvas-the-florist · 4 years

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Fist Fight the After Life (Sander Sides)

Ship(s): Brotherly Anxceit, Creativitwins, pining Logince

Warnings: frog mention, lots of talk of death, food mention, insomnia mention

Summary: Ghosts can become corporeal to prevent one event from occurring. Virgil and Janus become corporeal by accident by trying to stop Remus and Roman from going down a really steep hill in a shopping cart. Chaotic and heartfelt shenanigans ensue.

Word Count: 1.9K

“This is a really stupid idea,” Roman hummed, looking at the bicycle helmet his brother handed him and then looking at the shopping cart. Then, he shrugged and put it on. “Still, sounds kinda dope. Wouldn’t want you to claim all the glory for this stupidity.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“No, it’s not.” Janus booed. Remus didn’t flinch or move, because Janus wasn’t quite there. He was in the astral plane watching with mild disinterest. “I’m the spirit.”

“Shut up, snake.” Virgil shoved his brother half heartedly. “No one wants or can hear your dumb puns.”

The two continued bickering as Roman and Remus started setting up their fun stunt. They had found a steep hill at the bend of an abandoned road. Remus had tried to talk his friend, Logan into joining the two, but Logan actually had a brain cell and decided to pass. But he had agreed to watch at a bench in case they needed an ambulance. Roman forced Remus to wear his helmet before they climbed into the cart. Virgil face palmed across the planes.

“They’re really going to do this huh,” Virgil bit his lip. His hands have hidden in the sleeves of his hoodie and he grabbed the insides of it. Janus looked over to see that Virgil was even more anxious than usual. “If either of them die I’m going to kill them when they get here.”

“I’m sure they’re going to be fine, Virgil.” Janus reassured, not knowing himself if he was lying. He turned back to watch Logan walking up to the cart, ready to push it down the hill that seemed to grow taller the more he looked. Virgil’s worries were rubbing off on him. Janus considered for a moment before seeing that Logan was just about to push and-

“DON’T!” Janus and Virgil shouted, this time causing three people to flinch and the shopping cart fell on it’s side just as Logan moved forward. The three humans looked up, shocked and frozen as two… ghosts were staring down at them.

Janus and Virgil looked at each other and then at their environment, realizing what they have done. Virgil’s face fell into his hands while Janus cursed quietly. He saw Remus and Roman get up as if they’re about to run and (metaphorically) stepped in. “Hello, friends. My brother and I are just here to say that…” Roman and Remus looked back as Logan was still frozen. “We’re your guardian angels! Not yours though, Logan. We had the chance to save you two from doom if it was ever to get too dire. So you’re welcome!”

Virgil looked up, aghast at his brother. He mouthed, what?! Janus ignored him. “Any questions?”

Remus raised his hand and talked as he did so. “Are you gay?”

“Yes.” Virgil and Janus replied at the same time, without hesitation. Virgil continued, “But that’s not exactly relevant. Umm, sorry for interrupting your ‘sick stunt’, we’re going to go now. RIGHT, JAN?”

“Of course.”

They couldn’t leave. After about a minute, Logan offered his house to have a more private conversation. While walking back the three humans asked a list of endless questions, about guardian angels. Virgil let Janus take the lead as he was trying to calm down. Janus kept answering about what ghosts do but he was sure that Roman wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in the end. Well, until the actual end, he supposed quietly. Logan unlocked the door and the others walked or floated into the front room.

“So you guys were just watching us like a 3D movie?” Roman asked. “Why not watch someone cooler? Unless we’re more interesting than… Lin Manuel Miranda?”

Virgil shrugged, finally able to form a sentence without his voice cracking. “I’m pretty sure many people are watching Lin Manuel Miranda right now, on this plane or not. It’s more interesting to watch someone insignificant.” Virgil realized what he said and quickly continued before Roman had the chance to be offended. “Well, insignificant at first glance. You- y’all are more fun than any privileged asshole with too much money would be.”

“You get to decide who to spectate?” Logan asked, while getting a notepad and pen from a cupboard. “How do you decide? What do you do when a person you’re watching dies? How many times can you step in to help someone?”

“Well,” Janus started. “You can decide who to watch, and you kinda just float around the world and if you want to watch someone, you do. When that person dies and you’re around you’re supposed to help them adjust to the afterlife. And… You can only step in once. But it has to be before their action or you’re going to have to fix it yourself. Which is too much work.”

Logan continued writing this down. Remus blurted out “So what happens after you save their donkey asses? Do you explode into frogs?”

“Nope.” Virgil looked down, uncomfortably. He didn’t know how to respond to this question. It was a sort of touchy and ambiguous part of being a spirit. “I’m not exactly sure what happens. The person who introduced me to this afterlife,” He gave a side look at Janus who looked slightly guilty. “Never told me what that’s like.”

The three humans then looked at Janus with attention. Remus whispered to Roman “I’m still betting on the frog thing.” Roman snickered as Janus started. He was ringing his hands and toying with his gloves while he talked. “In the afterlife you can either choose to just stop all your consciousness or become a sort of spectator… thing. A lot of people choose to watch over the world to cope with their death. When people intervene with an event that’s occurring their existence becomes kind of limited. You can only save a person once and we,”

He looked at Virgil who was looking very nervous at what was happening. “We just so happened to use it. I’m not certain on what happens after this but I do know that people don’t return to the astral plane when 24 hours of being corporeal ends.”

“Well that fucking sucks.” Roman stated after a long pause. “You save someone from something bad and you get in an even worse position? Life in the afterlife doesn’t seem so… ideal.”

“I mean, it IS death.” Virgil shrugged.

“Whelp, thanks for stopping us for doing a sick unstable trick. Now you’re stuck with us for the rest of your existence!” Remus said giddily, like he was a mix of grateful and mad at them. Roman hit him on the head lightly. “What? That is what happened, right? They’re not going to explode into blood and guts, they’re just gonna poof!”

“Well, I wouldn’t cross that quite of the list yet. Neither of them seem to have any knowledge about what’s going to occur.” Logan pointed out and Remus gave a crooked smile. Logan then turned to the ghosts. “What are you going to do now? You have about… 21 hours and 46 minutes left until your undetermined future.”

Virgil and Janus looked at each other and shrugged.

“Do you guys want to prank anyone?” Virgil asked, causing Remus and Roman to grin.

After making a bad youtube video with it’s top comment being “The editing is so unrealistic”, doing the most impressive magic tricks to the five random strangers who wanted to participate, and generally scaring people, there was about 15 hours and it was now 12 AM. The group had kind of ran out of things to do so they were playing truth or dare on the carpet. Janus and Virgil were hovering in a position that kinda looked like they were sitting.

“Virgil!” Roman declared dramatically. “Truth or dare?”

Virgil raised his eyebrow. “Uhh,, dare? I wanna see what you can come up with.”

“Dammit I only had a truth prepared, give me a second.” He closed his eyes, as if he had to think really hard just to come up with a dare. Then Roman’s eyes popped open and a smile spread across his face. “Lemme swish my hand through you! I wanna know what it looks like.”

“Rude, that was going to be my dare for Janus!” Remus punched Roman, causing him to fall onto Logan. Logan had a brief blush while Roman obliviously sat back up. “So, do you take the dare Virge? Or are you chicken poop?!”

“I believe you just misused an idiom.” Logan pointed out before smiling a little bit. “Was I just the one to point that out? That was me understanding a metaphor? I did it!”

“Good job, Logan,” Janus remarked. “Accept the dare Virgil, I would LOVE to get ‘swished’ by the not at all greasy twin.”

Virgil shrugged. “Sure, I mean it’s not like I can feel it I guess.” He didn’t even finish his sentence when Roman leaned forward to run his hand through Virgil’s arm. Virgil flinched backwards at the sudden movement but then relaxed again while crossing his arms. “Got it out of your system, Princey?”

His arm was dispelling like smoke moving when air conditioning turns on. Roman did it about two more times before leaning back against the couch, not noticing how close he was to Logan. Logan noticed though. “Yeah, I’m done. Your turn now!”

The games continued like this for a while. There were about 11 hours left when the corporeal humans passed out. Except for Remus, who just seemed to get bored, take a Red Bull from the fridge and go upstairs to do whatever the hell he did in his spare time. There were about 8 hours left when Janus and Virgil floated outside to the front yard. Virgil flew up to the roof and lied down in the air to look at the polluted air in the sky. Janus joined him a little bit after.

“They seemed fun.” Janus started, pulled one of his knees to his chest.

“Do you think it was worth it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Us saving them. They might not have even been in danger. And we intervened.” Virgil looked at his older brother and he could see the fear in his eyes. “What if we broke some sort of ghost rule? I don’t know how any of this works and that’s not the vibe honestly.”

Janus took off his hat, ran a hand through his hair, and put it back on. He was looking forward, in the direction of the hill. “I don’t know. But we did that and now we’re getting consequences. Whether or not this is bad, I don’t know. But I do know that we’re going to be okay. I lied-”

“Of course…” Janus looked at Virgil, unenthused. Virgil held up his hands. “Sorry, what were you lying about?”

The older brother rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to stop existing yet. Because I don’t feel like it. How would you like to survive out of spite? We might not see any of these fools but we could haunt shit, which I know is not your whole vibe.”

Virgil laughed quietly before making eye contact, his eyes holding excitement and fear within them. “All I do is out of spite, idiot.”

Taglist: @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @logan-sanders-enthusiast @onceler-simp @bullet-tothefeels @sugaryenovis @bapbee @mysticalninjanut @fuckimasanderssidesblognow @meowthefluffy @eeredecimalsanderssided @mariita-2006 @mystic-theater-geek @bewaretheidesofmarchyall @callme-vee

#platonic anxceit #creativitwins #subtle logince #pining logince #I just like happy endings okay #emile writes #sander sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #ghosts #sander sides fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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andrewmoocow · 4 years

Text

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 7: Rejuvenated (originally published January 18, 2021)

Author's Note: And so, we reach the penultimate chapter of Part 1! It was once stated that an episode featuring Rhodonite was in the works for Steven Universe Future where we would explore how her components met along with the debut of Morganite, but that was unfortunately scrapped because there was enough content to turn it into a whole two-parter, along with not heavily featuring Steven enough and not being relevant to Future's plot. Well, I'm gonna try and prove the Crewniverse wrong by condensing what they planned to a manageable level, and you will have to bear witness to it!

Synopsis: Peridot builds a device that tells how many times a Gem has been rejuvenated, and it reveals some shocking secrets about Rhodonite.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven

Matthew Moy as Lars

Enuka Okuma as Rhodonite

Kathleen Fisher as Fluorite

Erica Luttrell as Padparadscha Sapphire

Ashly Burch as Rutile Twins

Estelle as Garnet

Charlyne Yi as Morganite's Ruby

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pink Pearl/Volleyball, Morganite's Pearl

Amy Sedaris as Teal Zircon

Shelby Rabara as Peridot

Olivia Olson as Citrine

Patti LuPone as Yellow Diamond

Lisa Hannigan as Blue Diamond

Christine Pedi as Holly Blue Agate

And featuring Hayley Kyoko as Morganite

"Now then, you two, keep yourselves steady, in both body and mind." Garnet instructed Rhodonite and Padparadscha Sapphire in the ways of yoga atop the central tower of Little Homeworld. "It is of utmost importance to keep those instructions in mind in life."

"Okay, keep myself steady. Keep myself steady." Rhodonite nervously repeated her fellow fusion's instructions to herself. Unfortunately for her, she could barely keep the pose she assumed up. "Whoa! I can't do this!"

"You can Rhodonite, just relax your thoughts." Garnet continued teaching.

"Ooh, Garnet is going to give some excellent advice that could change our lives!" Padparadscha Sapphire exclaimed happily.

"Precisely." Garnet remarked to the defective Sapphire. "My teachings could help you in the long run."

"ATTENTION STUDENTS OF LITTLE HOMESCHOOL!" Peridot's nasally voice cried out, causing the two Off-Colors to lose balance and fall to the floor. "I'VE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT!"

"Even after two years of coming here, Peridot's voice still gets on my nerves a bit." Rhodonite muttered as she got up from her fall. "But don't tell her I said that!"

"And now Peridot is calling everyone because she has something amazing to tell us." Padparadscha stated. "What fun!"

"I'll take you guys down." Garnet declared before she grabbed the two Gems by the hand and raced to the edge of the roof.

"You know, we could just take the-" Rhodonite began nervously before the three Gems jumped off the tower. "STAAAAAAAAIRS!"

Garnet landed safely, yet dramatically, on the ground below, where many Gems gathered around Peridot as she began to demonstrate what she wanted to show them all.

"I would like to present a project that I've been working on ever since last year's Spinel incident." Peridot announced as a rod-like device emerged from her gem. "This is a Rejuve-Meter." She stated. "See what I did there? Anyways, this little gizmo works a bit like carbon daters here on Earth, and can help with examining how many times a Gem has been rejuvenated! Would anyone like to be a test subject?"

"Ooh, me! Me!" Teal Zircon exclaimed while raising her hand.

"I applaud your eagerness TZ." Peridot thanked the Zircon before scanning her with the Rejuve-Meter. The screen rotated through many possible numbers before it settled on 2. "Says here you've only been rejuvenated twice. What could possibly cause either incident?"

"It was a few honest mistakes, I swear it!" Teal Zircon revealed. "Cross my gem and hope to be shattered, the memories I make are all that mattered!"

"Okay then. Anyone else?" Peridot began looking around the huddled Gems before she spotted Volleyball among them. "You there, come on down!"

"Oh, me?" Pink Diamond's former Pearl gasped as she stepped forward.

"Yes, you." Peridot grinned before scanning Volleyball with the Rejuve-Meter. Compared to TZ, Volleyball caused the device only to say 1. "Only one time?"

"My Diamond was playing with a Rejuvenator and got me reset by accident." Volleyball confessed. This seemingly offhand comment caused Rhodonite to freeze up at the mere mention of rejuvenation, like she was flashing back to a similar incident.

"Interesting, interesting." Peridot muttered as she continued scanning each of the Gems around her.

"Hey, Garnet, what's going on?" Steven asked, weaving through the crowd to greet Garnet. "And how did teaching Rhodonite and Paddy go?"

"It went well, until Peridot caused them to lose balance because she wanted to show off this new device she built in response to Spinel." Garnet explained. "She says it can help her scan Gems for how many times they've been rejuvenated."

"Uh, yeah!" Rhodonite laughed nervously. "W-what she said."

"Is something the matter Rhodonite?" Steven asked the Off-Color fusion. "You're looking real tense. Should I get Lars?"

"I feel like the idea of rejuvenation is making her skittish." Padparadscha pondered. "But, what do I know?"

"I feel like you might need some help." Steven encouraged Rhodonite as Peridot made her way to the two.

"Okay, according to the Rejuve-Meter, all the Gems present have been rejuvenated up to three times each. Nothing too severe." Peridot said. "Now, let's see how many times you were rejuvenated."

"No, I don't think that's really necessary!" Rhodonite yelped, but her urges proved fruitless as the Rejuve-Meter did its job, but the results it got were quite shocking.

"And your components have been rejuvenated….." Peridot paused for effect as she examined the meter and got quite a surprise. "My stars, SEVENTEEN TIMES?! HOW, AND WHY?!"

"I-I-I!" Rhodonite stuttered, when Fluorite and the conjoined Rutile twins came up to her.

"Is anything the matter?" the grandmotherly six-Gem fusion asked with concern in her slow tone.

"My sincerest apologies Fluorite." Peridot apologized to Fluorite. "It's just that I made this little device that allows me to discover how many times a Gem has been rejuvenated, and I think I may have accidentally made Rhodonite here uneasy about it since she may have been rejuvenated in the past."

"Oh, it's alright Peridot." Rhodonite said as she patted the little green Gem on her triangular hair with one of her small arms. "We know you didn't mean any harm."

"Besides, Rhodonite joined us because she was looked down upon for being a fusion between two different Gems." The left Rutile stated. "Especially her original owner."

"Which means she may have something to do with this." The right Rutile added.

"Yeah, it was a Morganite, right?" Steven asked, causing Rhodonite to nod meekly. "Well, looks like we're headed to Homeworld then!"

"Rhodonite has a problem, so we must return to Homeworld to solve it!" Padparadscha declared.

"I can't help it if I make a scene, stepping out of my hot pink limousine." Lars quietly sang to himself as he swept up the floor of his space-themed bakery. "I'm turning heads and I'm stopping traffic. When I pose, they scream, and when I joke, they laugh." His cleaning would have to wait when he heard the door open. "Ah, welcome to Spacetries. How can I help, Steven?"

"Hey Lars, long time no see." Steven greeted the pink teen as he entered the bakery with Rhodonite in tow. "We need to talk about Rhodonite. Peridot was showing off this little gizmo she built that made her super uncomfortable, and we think it may have something to do with when she was created on Homeworld."

"We believe it may have been caused by the Morganite who originally owned the Ruby and Pearl she's made of." Fluorite added. "Do you think she could still be around?"

"How should I know?" Lars asked while putting away the broom and taking off his apron. "Most of the time I spent on Homeworld was being forced into a trial, dying, and then trying to escape after I came back to life."

"Well, I think we might need a lift there." Rhodonite declared. "You wanna help?"

"Could take a little bit to get there, but anything for you guys." Lars accepted happily. "Blue Lace, watch the shop while I'm gone!"

Blue Lace Agate gave Lars a thumbs-up as he left the shop to see the other Off-Colors outside.

"Can't we just take the Warp Pad?" Lars asked while the group walked away from the bakery.

"The nova thrusters are as good as new, right?" Steven responded with a question of his own.

Within a few hours, the Off-Colors had finally reached the Gem Homeworld. Since it had been so long since they had escaped their formerly oppressive home planet, Homeworld has changed dramatically in the passing years. There was lots more color, plant life was abundant, and Gems were milling about to do whatever they please without fear of persecution from the dismantled caste system.

"Okay, Morganite should be around here somewhere." Lars stated as they disembarked from the Sun Incinerator. "Any idea where?"

"Why don't we ask around?" Steven suggested.

"Last I remember, Morganite lives in this big palace that looks like one of those pagodas on Earth." Rhodonite explained. "Though since I've refused to go back there until now, I've pretty much pushed the location out of my memories."

"Why don't we try asking around?" the left Rutile suggested. "Maybe try that Citrine over there?"

The Rutiles pointed to a large, muscular yellow Gem with her gem on her stomach, a distinctive mullet-like hairstyle, a stern expression on her face, and an unsettling eye twitch that she showed as the Gems walked over to her.

"Can I help you?" the Citrine asked with a glare.

"We don't want any harm." Steven told her. "We're just on the lookout for a Gem named Morganite. Seen her anywhere?"

"Oh, you're looking for Morganite?" Citrine said as her expression softened into something more genial. "Yeah, she lives in the big pink skyscraper, can't miss it." She thumbed over to a tall building not too far away that was colored in varying shades of pink and had a predominantly Oriental appearance. "Here, I'll take you there."

"Isn't it wonderful?!" Padparadscha cried while Citrine signaled for a carrier to bring them to Morganite's palace. "The most wonderful Citrine will give us a lift to Morganite!"

"One of those Off-Color Gems, I see." Citrine commented as the carrier arrived. "Okay everyone, all aboard."

"So tell me, what's Morganite like?" Steven asked Citrine. "Is she as okay with Era 3 as everyone else? Because I've met a few Gems who aren't too happy with it."

"She doesn't really care." Citrine answered. "Just as long as she continues her design work. Back in the day, she was highly acclaimed in our society for her visionary designs, especially her work on the Diamonds' palanquins."

"Sounds like she'd fit right in at Little Homeschool's art classes." Fluorite remarked.

"Yeah, but she also had strong views against cross-Gem fusions when we served her." Rhodonite stated. "It's why we fled and eventually met the other Off-Colors."

"How much longer till we reach her?" Lars asked Citrine.

"Not too long now." Citrine replied as Morganite's building began getting closer. "Okay, we're here." She announced, stopping the transporter.

Steven, Lars, Citrine, and the Off-Colors now stood before the pink pagoda-like building, staring in awe of its beautiful architecture. But within the gorgeous structure lay some dark secrets of the past that Rhodonite was ready to contend with.

"You ready?" Lars asked Rhodonite, who tightly held his hand in exchange.

"I'm scared." Rhodonite muttered.

"Don't worry. We're all here for you." Steven alleviated the fusion's fears by holding onto her hand.

"Rhodonite seems afraid, but she knows we'll all be by her side." Padparadscha declared calmly.

"Us Off-Colors gotta stick together." The Rutiles said in unison.

"We're your family." Fluorite said.

"Okay, enough heartfelt found family moments." Citrine chuckled at the heartwarming scene before her as she knocked on the door, causing a holographic projection of a small, pink Gem soon appeared from the top of the doorframe. "Hello?"

"State your name and your business." The hologram demanded.

"I'm Steven Universe." Steven said to the hologram. "I'm here because we've got some old subordinates of Morganite here with us."

"Excellent." The hologram said, and the doors soon opened. "Please enter single file, and do not make a mess of things."

With that, the group got in line, Rhodonite in front with Steven behind her, and strolled into Morganite's tower.

Upon taking the elevator that took them to the tower's top floor, before Steven, Lars, and the Off-Colors was a small, pink Gem with pale skin dressed in a kimono and her dark pink hair in low pigtails. She was kneeling to the ground in deep meditation, and had a certain Gem device hanging over her head as a decoration.

The very sight of this Gem turned Rhodonite's paranoia into a very uncharacteristic rage, and she marched straight up to the little Gem before angrily picking her up. "You! I knew you'd still be here, now fess up!"

The Gem slowly opened her eyes and gasped in fright at the angry fusion violently interrogating her. "Oh no, someone help!" she cried. "Wait, I remember you!"

"So you do remember me, huh?!" Rhodonite snarled while Steven and Lars tried to keep her calm. "Why don't you tell me why I was rejuvenated SEVENTEEN TIMES before I toss you over the edge?!" she threatened, turning her head to face a door leading to one of the balconies of the top floor.

"Rhodonite, please!" Steven exclaimed.

"I get that she traumatized you, but you would never try to hurt anyone!" Lars said.

"Please, remember Garnet's instructions!" Fluorite cried.

Rhodonite froze in place and dropped her former superior from her grasp, and then she began to remember what Garnet taught her. "Relax my thoughts, relax my thoughts." She whispered to herself, easing her tense form. "My apologies, I just lost a little control there."

"A little would be selling yourself short." Rhodonite's would've-been victim snarked. "Especially after all the times I had to break you up."

"So, you must be Morganite." Steven remarked.

"Suppose you heard of me." Morganite stated. "My work is highly acclaimed throughout nine star systems. Now tell me, what brings you all to my tower, outside of nearly trying to kill me?"

"We need to talk." Steven said, moving out of the way to introduce the Off-Colors. "These are some of my friends, a group of Gems persecuted by the old ways of Homeworld because they didn't fit in with their fascist standards, including Rhodonite here. We came because we know you had rejuvenated the Ruby and Pearl that are her components seventeen times, and want answers as to why."

"You want to know why?" Morganite asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I'd like to understand." Rhodonite answered.

"If you say so." Morganite responded. "Please, do sit down, all of you. Have I got a story for you?"

As the group all sat down on their knees, Morganite began her story. "Now, our little tale begins thousands of years ago, back in Era 1, a short while after Pink Diamond came along."

Thousands of years in the past, Morganite was quite possibly the most celebrated designer to have ever graced Gemkind for having helped build most of Homeworld's architecture. One of her most notable actions was being the leader in building each of the Diamonds' palanquins, and her methods were seen as extraordinary.

"Exemplary work Morganite." Yellow Diamond complimented the design of her palanquin, built to be just as massive as she was. "Very nice patterns, and the shade of yellow is very fitting too."

"I especially admire the drapes you put on mine." Blue Diamond admired her palanquin.

"It was my pleasure, my Diamonds." Morganite thanked with a courteous bow. "I don't ask for anything in return; your applause is all that matters."

"Oh, you are so modest." Blue giggled. "But don't you ever get a little lonely doing so much for our kind?"

"No, I feel perfectly happy by myself." Morganite answered.

"Not even any subordinates to bounce ideas off of?" Yellow continued. "Because I can assure you, I've already got some for you for the occasion."

With a snap of the Diamond's fingers, Yellow's brought forth a pair of inactive gemstones and set them on the ground. The Pearl rose up first, projecting a holographic clamshell around itself.

"Please identify yourself." The shell ordered robotically.

"Morganite." Morganite complied.

"Greetings, Morganite." The shell greeted. "Please state your preferred customization options."

"Nothing too fancy, but nothing too modest either." Morganite continued.

"Settings selected. Please stand by." The holographic shell opened and the Pearl began glowing, eventually forming into a full Gem. The Pearl looked very standard, but had straight pink hair in a bob, her gemstone resting on her chest, a leotard with a transparent shawl around her neck and pink flats.

Next came the Ruby, who also looked like how Gems of her type should be, with her gem on her stomach and a Pink Diamond insignia on her top.

"You must be our new owner, correct?" Morganite's new Pearl asked.

"Yes, yes I am." Morganite answered politely. "You were awarded to me for my work on Yellow and Blue Diamond's palanquins, and I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"Yes, Morganite." The Ruby and Pearl said in unison. What Morganite missed was her new Ruby turning her head a bit to gaze at Pearl, and it was love at first sight.

Over the next couple hundred years, Morganite's Pearl and Ruby served diligently and quietly, never once saying anything negative about their boss or her celebrity status. At least, not in public. In private, the two kept talking for hours about how self-absorbed she was, allowing their working relationship to blossom into romance.

"Oh, the nerve of her taking all the glory from all those hardworking Bismuths!" Morganite's Pearl laughed. "They may hold a higher rank than us Pearls, but I really feel sorry for them."

"And I heard from some Lapis Lazulis that ol' Morgy didn't appreciate the sloppy work they did on Hiei 16." The Ruby responded. "Chances are she's bound to tell Blue on them."

"And what of Pink Diamond?" the designer's Pearl continued. "Sometimes I wonder if she was just a Quartz plucked from a Kindergarten and ordered to look like a Diamond, because she rarely acts like the others at all. Her Pearl says she throws quite the destructive tantrums when she doesn't get what she wants."

"Oh, wow! What a baby!" the Ruby laughed loudly.

"Can I just say, I really love the way you laugh?" Morganite's Pearl said. "It's so loud, yet so endearing at the same time."

"I-I find you endearing too." The Ruby blushed. "No, wait, I don't think that's the word I'm looking for! I meant to say-"

"Cute, graceful, smart, caring, loyal?" the Pearl began flirting. "Because all but one of those fit you as well."

"Oh my, really?" the Ruby responded as she blushed even harder. "I don't anyone has ever called me anything that wasn't stupid or expendable, but you're the first."

"Thank you." The Pearl said, now beginning to blush herself. "Would you like a kiss?"

"W-w-w-w-wait, really?!" her new Ruby lover stuttered. "I don't think I've been given a kiss either?"

"Well, let's give it a try." The Pearl remarked, picking her beloved Ruby up by the waist and bringing them face to face before giving her a sweet kiss on the lips. When the Ruby returned the kiss in kind, their gems began to shimmer.

"Oh, girls! I want your two cents on my latest project." Morganite called for the pair as she walked in on their embrace. "What in the?!"

What Morganite saw was not her Ruby and Pearl, but rather a strange new lifeform with both of their gemstones on her front and bearing some parts of their respective physical forms.

"What happened?" Rhodonite muttered. "Did we just fuse?"

"Yes, you just did!" Morganite barked, catching Rhodonite by surprise. "You knew the laws you two; only two Gems of the same type are allowed to fuse! Did you not hear the cautionary tales of those six Gems that just up and vanished when they first discovered fusion?"

"I sincerely apologize, Morganite, but we really do love each other!" Rhodonite cried as she begged on her knees. "If you would just let us explain!"

"Explain nothing." Morganite coldly declared before pulling a Rejuvenator from her gem on her chest and using it to cut Rhodonite in two, causing her components to poof. "And that will be all."

Morganite believed that would be the end of it, the end of her subordinates' relationship. But she thought wrong.

When her Ruby and Pearl were regenerated, they at first acted like they first met Morganite all over again. And just like that first time, they once again fell in love.

Despite Morganite's attempts to suppress her subordinates' relationship, word got out of the two's love, and many Gems began to question the designer's high status and demanded something to be done about it.

The more times her Pearl and Ruby began fusing, the more Morganite used her Rejuvenator to reset them, and the more she began fearing for all the fame she accumulated being dropped faster than an unwanted colony. Eventually, after approximately seventeen resets, Morganite came to a decision.

"Are you sure we should still be doing this?" the Pearl asked her smaller lover one day. "You know our Morganite will be very unhappy."

"Well, I for one am sick of all this!" the Ruby exclaimed hotly. "Sick of being persecuted for our love, sick of fusions between different Gem types being so frowned upon, sick of this society we live in!"

"Oh, poor baby." The Pearl consoled the Ruby. "We're stronger than that, I just know it."

"Oh, girls, please come here." Morganite called for the pair. With nervous looks to one another, the couple walked over to their displeased master. "I have some splendid news for you."

"What is it?" Morganite's Pearl asked meekly.

"You no longer have to worry about being caught, because you're getting replaced!" Morganite answered cheerfully, presenting a new Pearl and Ruby that will soon take the old pair's places.

"Well, funny you should mention that." The Ruby stated, bravely stepping forward. "We're through with this! You don't understand the love Pearl and I share, just because you're so self-absorbed and dedicated to Homeworld's ways!"

"Oh, so good you're such a team player." Morganite sarcastically remarked before clapping her hands to summon a pair of Shattering Robonoids. "Because as they say, there's no trash in a team."

As the Robonoids prepared to detain Morganite's former Pearl and Ruby, the two made a break for it. They bolted out the top floor of Morganite's tower, jumping off the balcony and beginning to fall all the way down to Homeworld's lower levels.

"After them!" Morganite commanded the Robonoids, and they zoomed out the building after the fleeing Gems.

As Ruby and Pearl continued falling at high speeds, the Shattering Robonoids flew down in hot pursuit and tried to scan their gems for destruction.

"Oh no, we're gonna get shattered!" the Ruby began panicking. "This is all my fault, if I hadn't talked back to Morganite, then we wouldn't either be shattered by the Robonoids or by falling to our deaths! I'm so-"

"It's okay." The Pearl said softly, cupping her favorite soldier's cheek. "I'm here for you, you're here for me."

"Yeah." The Ruby began to relax. "We're here for each other."

The two began to kiss once again, fusing into Rhodonite once more as they crashed behind a statue on Homeworld's decaying surface. The Robonoids continued scanning for the pair, but the machines found nothing due to the structure keeping them protected.

As the Robonoids flew back up to report to Morganite, Rhodonite peeked from behind the statue in relief. "I'm here."

"Hello?" a deep, slow-moving voice called from a cave. "Is anyone there?"

"Who said that?!" Rhodonite began panicking. "Come out wherever you are!"

"You were cast out too, yes?" the voice continued. "Come on in, you'll be safer here."

"I-if you say so." Rhodonite muttered. "Where are you?"

"Just follow my voice." The voice answered. "You can find me in this cave. Just look for the rock."

Rhodonite did as this mystery person said and found a rather conspicuous rock within a cave, moving it aside to discover a secret passage. When she entered the path and went through the dark tunnel, at the end was a massive Kindergarten that might've gone unused for ages.

"Welcome, dearie." The voice said as its owner appeared from behind Rhodonite. Turning around, Rhodonite discovered a massive six-Gem fusion with a gentle smile on her face. "So, were you persecuted for your love too?"

"Wait, you're the six Gems!" Rhodonite exclaimed, thinking back to the tales of old.

"I see my reputation is still going strong." The larger fusion proclaimed. "I am Fluorite. And you are?"

Rhodonite glanced down at the gems on her torso, and then back at Fluorite, before she finally answered. "I'm Rhodonite."

"So that's what happened." Steven realized as Morganite concluded her tale before he turned to Rhodonite. "What do you think?"

"Relax my thoughts, relax my thoughts." Rhodonite whispered to herself as she sat cross-legged next to Steven and as she opened her eyes, she un-fused into Morganite's former Ruby and Pearl for the first time in centuries.

"Normally, this is the part where we'd yell at you for never atoning for ditching us." The Ruby stated. "And we'll still never forgive you for that."

"But that's in the past. We're different Gems than we were thousands of years ago." The Pearl replied. "Here in the future, we have a new life now. Together."

"I understand now." Morganite said solemnly. "If that is your decision, then so be it. Now good day."

"Thank you for having us." Lars thanked Morganite. "Now come on, gang, let's head home."

"One second." The Ruby and Pearl said in unison before they kissed yet again, fusing back into a more stable Rhodonite with shorter pant legs, a scarf replacing her shawl, and her hair now in two tones.

"Okay, now we can go." Rhodonite smiled.

"Everyone, wait!" Padparadscha exclaimed. "After a moment of clarity, Rhodonite will change her look! Isn't that exciting!?"

"You crack me up, little buddy." Lars chuckled as Steven, and the Off-Colors left the building.

After Morganite finished waving them off, she checked around to see if anyone was still watching. Rising from where Rhodonite sat her down, Morganite turned to the Rejuvenator hanging over her head and pressed on a hidden keypad on the wall that led the way to a Warp Pad.

"My clarity has got to hear about this." Morganite said to herself as she took the Warp Pad to parts unknown.

Revanche 666 was a planet drained of all life and resources by the Gems' colonizing, and all that was left was a world with a suspicious resemblance to a human skull.

Morganite disembarked from the Warp Pad and walked towards a black-colored building resembling a Communication Hub. Standing guard was a pair of Citrines, much like the one who had brought Steven to her, but they were less friendly.

"HALT!" the Citrines yelled as they blocked the way.

"It's alright you dolts; it's me." Morganite grumbled at the guards' ignorance.

"Oh, terribly sorry Morganite!" the Citrines declared, moving to allow Morganite to enter the building. "The master is expecting you!"

Morganite strolled down a long white hallway, lined with multiple guards. There were Pearls that had grey skin, black & white uniforms and their hair swept to one side of their heads, white Topazes, including one that was giving a cheery wave only to stop with a sinister glare from the pink Gem, Jaspers, Amethysts, Rubies and many more.

"Oh Morganite, fancy seeing you here." Holly Blue Agate said, as she appeared to start walking alongside her fellow ex-aristocrat. "How have things been going on your end?"

"That boy just paid a visit, and he brought some Off-Colors with." Morganite answered. "One of them was a fusion of my ex-servants, and even tried to toss me over the edge!"

"Really, an Off-Color attempting murder?" Holly Blue smirked. "Well, it's good you're still keeping up appearances like I am, no matter how complicated it may be. Hopefully the master's endgame will allow me to get some peace and quiet!"

"In due time, Holly." Morganite chuckled. "In due time."

The two Gems stopped walking in front of a pair of white doors that automatically opened for them. And at the end of the room before them was a Gem in a revolving chair examining all possible data she could find of the Crystal Gems on a series of holograms.

"We have arrived your clarity." Holly Blue announced while she and Morganite kneeled before the Gem. "Morganite would like to speak with you."

"Yes, Steven Universe has come to visit me earlier." Morganite added. "Which reminds me, is it time to proceed with Phase 1?"

The Gem stopped typing on her database and slowly turned to her subordinates, before slowly getting up from her chair.

And now we have another Gem to add to this mystery foe's alliance! And we'll finally get to see who she is next time on the final chapter of Part 1. But in the meantime, I have an announcement to make. Once I'm done with that chapter, I'm going to take a bit of a hiatus to focus on other stories and my schoolwork, but not too long like my fellow Steven Universe fans have joked about. I hope you understand, and see you next time.

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven quartz universe #lars barriga #rhodonite #padparadscha sapphire #fluorite #rutile twins #morganite

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

what’s it gonna be? (2/3)

previous | next

ao3

The difficult thing about approaching Alex Manes was that you couldn’t just talk to him.

He was closed off and boarded up, his dark clothes and edgy taste in music were loud indicators that he didn’t want to let anyone new in. That meant Michael was going to have to be creative. Which honestly wasn’t fair at all considering Liz was probably the easiest person in the world to talk to, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Michael clicked his pen against the table as he stared a few rows down where Alex was hunched over his guitar, gently strumming and scribbling down some things every once in a while. The whole prospect of Alex bringing his guitar to school in the first place already felt like a red flag and Michael was waiting for him to just break out into Wonderwall.

Still, Max apparently liked the guy and they made a deal, so he got up and walked over to him.

Michael stood in front of him, waiting for Alex to catch sight of him. And Alex did, starting at his feet and slowly following the length of his body up to his face. Michael flashed a smile.

"Play me a song, guitar boy."

Alex stared at him for a second before rolling his eyes, looking back down to his guitar. Michael sat down in front of him.

"I play guitar too, you know?" Michael went on. Alex hummed mindlessly, but he didn't tell him to go away. "Pretty good at it if I do say so myself."

"Good for you."

"Play me something," Michael prodded again. Alex sighed and looked at him.

"Why are you talking to me?" he asked. Michael blinked innocently.

"Who else am I supposed to talk to?" Michael said, "Everyone else sucks."

"And I don't?" Alex said. He had a genuine curiosity in his tone, strands of hair falling from the bun at the nape of his neck and falling around his face. For a moment, Michael got a little overwhelmed. Dark hair, big dark eyes, nice lips, nice figure. He shook it away before he could think too hard about it.

"Well, I don't know you well enough to make an educated statement," Michael said, "So I guess I'm just gonna have to bother you until I figure it out."

Alex stared at him for a moment before a smile started to tug at his lips and he looked back down to his guitar. He seemed to hide behind his hair and Michael wondered how anyone thought he was scary. So what if he got in fights? He got flustered too easily to pass as scary.

"So, guitar boy, you should teach me some shit about music," Michael said, "After school, maybe?"

Alex looked back up to him, eyes a little wide as if he was actually shocked by the invite. Michael just stared unwaveringly at him. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah, okay," Alex agreed, "After school."

Michael grinned, climbing back to his feet. He gave Alex a parting salute and went back to his spot, not addressing the way he could feel Alex's eyes on him. This was going to be easy.

He could only imagine how easy it would be for Max.

When Max walked into English and saw that the seat beside Liz was open, he couldn’t help but feel like he won the damn lottery.

He easily strolled up to her, clutching his backpack as he watched her stare down at her notes. Her hair fell over her shoulders and onto the page like a waterfall and the end of her pen was between her teeth. Liz almost looked like a painting and he couldn’t help but think that his brother had good taste.

“Hey, Liz,” Max said. She lifted her eyes to him and dropped the pen to her notes, smiling that warm and welcoming smile that she always had.

“Max, hi.”

“Can I sit here or is this seat taken?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, no, it's open. Sit," she said.

Max nodded, taking the seat and pulling out his binder. He looked between it and her a couple times, trying to find a good thing to spark conversation with. He decided starting with science would be the best way since that was her speciality, the only one in the school who had taken every science the school had to offer.

"Hey, do you understand the whole balancing equations thing in Chem? It's still a little confusing to me," Max said, pulling out his thankfully unfinished homework. She nodded and leaned into his space. Her hair smelled nice.

"Yeah. So the best way to get the hang of it is to break it down in a visual way. So, like, the left has one carbon, four hydrogen, and two chlorine while the right has one carbon, one hydrogen, and five chlorine. So the right needs four hydrogen, but since it's paired with one chlorine, it makes the total on the right eight, and now you need to make the one on the left eight too, so you add a four," Liz explained. Admittedly, the information when in one ear and directly out the other. "Make sense?"

"Well… No, not really," he said. She laughed, pulling her hair over her shoulder and out of the way as she looked at him.

"Class is about to start, but if you want to study after school we can. I'll work on my explanation skills before then," Liz promised. Max smiled and nodded.

"Sounds good."

For the rest of the class, Liz whispered small comments and told him jokes. It was almost too easy. Max didn't understand what kept Michael from befriending her. It was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

Hopefully Michael wasn't as bad at approaching Alex as he was at approaching Liz.

Okay. He got it. Alex was cool.

There was one record store left in Roswell and Alex wants to spin the afternoon there, so Michael followed. He'd shucked his flannel off at some point, leaving him in a tight black t-shirt and jeans with the flannel tied around his hips and knock-off docs on his feet. He flicked through a stack or rack of records before he found the one he wanted. Alex held it up for Michael to see, raising his eyebrows.

“Elvis Presley? Really?” Michael asked, following him over to a record player that had a set of headphones at it. Alex unplugged it and plugged in his own pair.

“Yes, really,” he said, holding out one earbud to Michael to take, “I’d show you something cooler, but I always go easy on someone’s first time.”

Michael laughed, his skin feeling a little hot at the insinuation. Alex just kept that smug smile as his skillful fingers started the record. The smooth sound started up with a swing feel to it and Alex seemed to be watching him, waiting for his reaction.

"This is the first album he released after he was honorably discharged. And I mean right after. They rushed the shit out of it because they were scared he would lose his relevancy," Alex explained. Michael nodded, focusing more on his words than the sound of Elvis singing about trying to get someone to prove to him they wanted him. "It peaked at number two on the charts, but still had super mixed reviews. Which is weird, honestly, because his service in the army gave him a lot of support from an older audience."

"You know a lot about Elvis," Michael said. Alex shrugged.

"Not really, I know about his time in the army and that's about it," he explained, looking at Michael in a way he couldn't quite place. It was almost questioning, like he was testing the waters. Which didn't make fucking sense because he was Alex Manes. "I know a little bit about a lot of things."

"Like what?" Michael prodded. Alex stared at him in silence for a few seconds, his gaze intense and overwhelming. Michael's skin felt hot under it, his heart thudding in his chest. The only sound being Elvis singing along to snapping and a soft bass.

'You give me fever when you kiss me,' Elvis sang, 'what a lovely way to burn.'

"I guess you'll just have to stick around and see what I can teach you," Alex said. Michael nodded without even thinking, his body working on it's own accord.

"Okay."

Alex smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear and turned to search through a bin he was standing beside. He pulled out a new vinyl.

"Black Sabbath," Michael read, clearing his throat. Alex nodded.

"They've got good shit."

Was it wrong that Michael didn't ever want to leave?

"Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks."

It was a little weird, Max thought, that the first girl he had in his room that wasn't Isobel or his mom was Liz Ortecho. He'd never really pictured her there. He quite liked the sight.

"Knew you'd get it," Liz said, "It's not hard, just takes focus."

"Yeah, you're also just a good teacher," he said. It was a little bit of a lie. She rambled a lot, getting distracted by her own train of thought and assuming he knew more than he did, but he didn't mind. He liked listening to her talk even if he wasn’t sure what she was talking about. Max didn’t understand how Michael had even formed a crush in the first place if he hadn’t listened to her ramble.

“Thank you,” Liz said, smiling as she leaned back.

They were sitting on his bedroom floor and her head was against his mattress. Would the smell of her hair linger on his sheets? Was that weird to think about?

"So, you wanna be a scientist when you grow up?" Max asked, leaning his head against the wall. Liz shrugged.

"I think I'm going to go into biological engineering. I like knowing how all that stuff works and messing with things," Liz explained. Max nodded.

"My brother's like that," Max said. Liz furrowed her eyebrows. "Michael."

"Oh, wow, I didn't know he was your brother," Liz laughed. Max shrugged.

"Yeah, we just got separated wherever Iz and I got adopted," Max said. Liz nodded, pulling her leg up to her chest and resting her chin on her knee.

"Well, what do you want to do when you grow up?" Liz asked. Max laughed a little as he allowed Michael's name to disappear from the conversation.

"I wanna be a writer," Max admitted. Liz had a knowing look on her face as she nodded.

"I can see it, you got that whole," Liz paused and gestured to him, "Slightly pretentious vibe about you."

"Hey!" he laughed.

"What? It's not a bad thing as long as you don't let it overcome you. I'm a firm believer that you have to be a little pretentious to be a creator of any kind. The confidence helps you succeed," Liz insisted. Max shrugged slightly, but he couldn't help but smile. "Trust me. My friend Alex is totally pretentious about his music, but we love him for it."

The mention of Alex felt a little jarring as he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. But Liz didn't let that memory last long.

"Well, show me some of your writing," Liz said. Max's eyes widened.

"What? I don't know if you'd wanna–"

"I do, c'mon, read me something," she prodded. Her eyes scanned the room before landing on the notebook on his nightstand. "Is there any in that?"

"Well…"

A mischievous smile crossed her face and she reached for it. Max didn't even think it through as he quickly went to grab it. He didn't want her to read anything in it. Each page was a different story, all disjointed and too many of them involving a love interest that were inspired by beautiful people he saw in school that he'd be embarrassed if she recognized.

Liz squealed in a joyous fashion as he tried to grab it first. She snatched it, her laughter contagious as he tried to grab it from her. She let go as he yanked it and he fell backwards. Liz took the opportunity of him being caught off guard to lean over him and grab it. Max caught her waist and flipped over. Suddenly, the book had slid a few feet away and he was just hovering over her.

Before he could really let it register, Liz grabbed his arms and locked her legs around his hips, flipping them over again and pinning his hands above his head. She had a victorious smile on her face, her long hair pooling around his head and making it impossible to look at anything but her. He swallowed harshly.

"Don't underestimate me just because you're tall, Max Evans," Liz told him. He nodded, probably a little too entranced by her, well, everything.

"Trust me," he said, "I wouldn't dare."

Alex was a master of saying something and meaning something else entirely. It left Michael feeling like he was starving and Alex's intentions were the only thing keeping him alive.

"What do you mean you haven't noticed?" Alex scoffed, shaking his head as they walked towards Michael's truck. It was Friday, four days into spending all his free time with Alex Manes and already he struggled to see a day he didn't do just that. "It's so obvious!"

"Obvious to who?" Michael laughed. Alex threw open the passenger side door without any hesitation, climbing it and dropping his messenger bag to the floor. He waited for Michael to get into the driver’s seat before answering.

“Anyone who claims to be interested in horror movies, Michael Guerin,” Alex said, giving a slightly dramatic sigh. Michael snorted as he started up the truck.

“Look, man, when I watch a movie, I don’t really pay attention to the music,” Michael admitted, looking over his shoulder as he started to back out of the parking spot.

“Oh my god, you’re speaking blasphemy, shut up,” Alex said, earning more laughter from Michael, “So horror at its peak in the 50s and 60s was heavy in strings, but once the synthesizer started gaining popularity in the 70s-ish‒by the way, did you know it was invented in the 50s?‒it took over. Just recently, like the last few years, they’ve been going back to strings, but like a distorted violin type of strings.”

“Okay, I think I see what you mean,” Michael said, nodding his head as he thought back to all the movies he’d seen in his lifetime. If he thought hard enough, he could think of movies that fit what Alex was talking about.

“Yeah, dude, it’s super obvious. Oh, shit, the drive-in is playing The Thing tonight at 8, that’s a perfect example of the mix between synth and orchestral since it’s, like, the early 80s,” Alex said. Michael looked over at him, seeing him looking down at his phone. His hair was down and shielding half of his face, but the sun was still hitting him like he was made for it. He was fucking gorgeous.

“Is that your subtle way of suggesting we go see a movie tonight?” Michael asked, glancing over at him again. Alex adjusted in his seat and looked up, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“I mean, yeah, we can,” Alex said, “Wouldn’t mind an excuse to stay out of my house.”

“I feel that,” Michael laughed, “Yeah, let’s go.”

It was how Michael ended up at almost 9pm at the drive-in, shrouded in darkness and watching The Thing while undeniably close to Alex Manes.

“Listen, listen, listen,” Alex whispered, leaning so close that his lips were almost touching his ear as he pointed. Michael moved his eyes off the screen to look at Alex only to see his eyes attached to the screen, sheer wonder in his eyes. “During most of the true horror moments in this movie, there’s no music at all, usually just letting you feel the moment. But, but but…” Alex breathed. Michael watched him instead of it again. But, still, he heard the slow build of synth in time with Alex’s smile growing. “You feel it? It’s right before shit gets bad, it’s preparing you, but letting you still feel the actual moment. It’s fucking genius.” Just like that, the synth stopping, just the screams of the creature and the people. Alex breathed in and dropped his hand, smiling. “This whole movie is a masterpiece.”

“I was kinda expecting you to jump out of fear,” Michael whispered, trying to shake that absolute entranced feeling watching Alex like this. In the darkness of the night, his face only lit by the screen and the dim street lamps that were set up, his guard was completely down. It was incredible.

“Jump scares are cool maybe once or twice a movie, but even that’s pushing it. Real horror lasts in your brain long after you watch it,” Alex said, looking at him for just a second, “All good shit should leave you unable to think about anything else.”

Michael nodded. “You’re right.”

“I know I am,” Alex said. His eyes flickered down and then back up to Michael’s eyes before he turned his gaze back to the movie. “Look, look, this is my favorite part.”

Michael looked and didn’t comment as Alex settled into his side. Alex’s best points were always unspoken and this felt like one of them.

“Let me see!”

“I am letting you see.”

Max laughed as Liz just glared at him, standing on her toes as she pulled on his arm. He continued holding the English paper he’d gotten back well over his head. Liz wanted to see his so they could compare them, but he found it much more enjoyable to hold it up and let her try to grab it.

“Stop,” Liz groaned.

Liz ended up taking a fist full of his shirt, dragging him over to one of the booths in the Crashdown. Max kept laughing as she forced him to sit down, kneeling on his thighs to keep him in place as she plucked the paper out of his grasp. She stuck his tongue out at him and the smile on his face was impossible to get rid of.

“You could’ve asked,” he teased. Liz glared at him, still just staying there with her knee in his lap. She was looking at his paper and he was looking at her. She seemed to get more gorgeous by the day, slowly but surely becoming unbearably attractive.

He watched as her eyes skimmed his paper, reading quickly as she settled her weight against him. She flipped to the next page, reading over it more, but then her eyes widened as she caught sight of his grade. Max smiled.

“A 102?” she scoffed, looking at him with a faux-offended face, “How the hell? I just got a 100!”

“Bonus points for using vocabulary words and using more than three sources,” he said. Again, that adorable glare. “But a 100 is still great.”

“Mhm, we’ll just have to talk when I get a 103 on my science test and you get a 91,” Liz said. Max grinned, shrugging shoulders. He was well past the point of caring as long as she stayed this close and kept talking. Sadly, though, she got off his lap and stood up straight.

“I can help you on your next paper,” Max offered. Liz looked at him with a knowing smile, tilting her head to the side.

“Well, I would hope so. I helped you with your science test, you’re definitely not off the hook. Now sit right there, I’m gonna go get us fries,” she said, not even waiting for an answer as she spun and went into the back. Max took a moment to let himself melt a little into the seat.

Soon, Liz was coming back with a basket of fries and a milkshake. She sat on the other side of the booth, that sweet smile still on her face.

“Only one?” Max asked playfully. She put her hand over her heart and gasped, giving an offended look.

“How dare you? Do I look like a woman who doesn’t share?” Liz asked. Max tilted his head and scrunched up his nose, enjoying the way it pulled laughter out of her. “Yeah, you’re right, but I’ll be nice today.”

Max watched as she pushed two straws into the shake. It felt a little too real and he looked at her to make sure she was actually okay with sharing. However, she didn’t even seem phased as she leaned forward to take a sip, marking her straw with a shiny stamp of lip gloss. Max, albeit hesitantly, leaned in and took a sip from the other one. She was still smiling.

He liked this.

“All things aside, though, I really like your paper,” Liz said, pointing at him with a fry, “If only you’d let me read something you wrote that you actually care about.”

“Maybe one day,” he offered. She raised her eyebrows, leaning closer.

“When is one day?”

“One day, I don’t know,” Max laughed. Liz shrugged a shoulder.

“Soon, I can feel it,” she stated firmly, “I’ve got a certain charm and I don’t think you’ll be able to resist.”

And Max had a feeling she was absolutely right.

Alex tilted his head back, breathing out a puff of smoke as he relaxed in the bed of Michael’s truck.

Michael’s lips parted as he watched him, his mouth feeling dry and his skin feeling too hot. He looked like a goddamn model at that moment. How the hell was anyone supposed to think straight? The weed definitely didn’t help.

“How many people have you slept with?” Alex asked, blunt and without preface. It only made Michael’s mind feel even more cloudy, the mix of wind and Elvis Presley’s Fever playing from his phone doing him no favors.

“Uh,” Michael said, stretching his legs out parallel to Alex’s, “Two?”

Alex nodded, not saying anything else as he leaned forward to pass the joint to Michael. He accepted it, his eyes still on Alex as he put it to his lips. Alex’s eyes lingered on his face before slowly scanning his entire body. When he got to his legs, Alex reached out and put his hand on his calf. His thumb rubbed small circles over his jeans. Michael’s brain was malfunctioning.

“Roswell has a population of a little over 6,000 people,” Alex said softly, his hand staying on his leg as he looked up to him. The joint was limply in Michael’s hand, too drunk on Alex’s existence to hold it properly. Alex plucked it from his grip, stubbing it out on the bottom of his shoe. Once it was completely out and done smoking, Alex moved even closer to tuck it behind Michael’s ear. “6,000 people and I can’t stand most of them, but I people-watch. I understand them and social cues and how to interact. I hate it, though, the uncertainty of it.”

“Yeah,” Michael breathed, agreeing with him on principle alone. Alex’s lips twitched up into a smile that didn’t last, his fingers letting go of the joint and tracing over his ear and his neck. Chills rose to his skin and his breathing got a little heavier. Alex’s eyes fluttered over his face again.

“I like certainty,” Alex said, “So I think I know what your goal is, but I’d really like you to spell it out for me.”

“My goal?” Michael clarified. Alex nodded, somehow even closer. He tilted his head to the side and he ditched all sense of preservation, his eyes on Michael’s lips and not moving. Which, maybe Michael was stupid, but he slowly let his eyes drift to Alex’s lips, focusing on that part of him in the same way.

Alex leaned in a little more, their foreheads touching just a little. And, just as Michael was about to close the space, his phone went off. Michael jumped and looked away to search for it. Alex sighed, sitting down as Michael checked to see what had ruined his moment.

Max: tomorrow after church?

Michael swallowed harshly and looked up to Alex who’s focus had drifted to playing with a loose string on the hole in his jeans at his knee. He kind of forgot about Max and what the point was. He was supposed to be learning about Alex for Max, not for himself. Guilt slowly started filling his veins as he realized how selfish he’d been.

Fuck.

“God, Max, this is beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

There were a lot of nerves that went into letting a pretty girl read your inner most thoughts, but Liz was endlessly respectful of his feelings and didn’t insult him for being too sappy. She scrolled down on the long document that he typed his story in, still reading as she sat right beside him.

“Seriously, you should look into getting published,” Liz said, finally looking at him. They were in his room again. This time the door was closed. It felt good.

“I don’t know, I feel like that’s a lot harder than you’d think,” Max said, shrugging his shoulders. Liz rolled her eyes.

“Well, you won’t know until you try! And, who knows, all it’ll take is a little willpower. Or maybe you could self-publish. I could help you figure it all out,” Liz offered. Max furrowed his eyebrows, a disbelieving huff leaving his chest.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, “You’re far too nice to me, Liz Ortecho.”

“I’m a nice person,” she insisted, “And you’re way too talented to just let it go to waste.”

“I don’t know. I want to travel first, see stuff, get inspired by something real, you know?” Max said. Liz nodded without hesitation.

“Yeah, I want to travel too,” she said, looking down for a second before looking back at him, “Maybe we could travel together.”

His eyebrows shot up, blinking a couple times. “You’d want to travel with me?”

“Well, why not?” she said, “I’ve always wanted to and why not go with someone you like spending time with?”

“You really have that much fun spending time with me?” Max asked, really not buying that. She was so… and he was just…

“There’s just something about you, Max Evans,” Liz told him, fondness thick in her voice. It warmed his heart in a way he didn’t quite understand. No one had ever said something like that about him before. He always just assumed he was just Max. “I don’t know. I’ve known you all my life and sometimes… Reading this, I kinda feel like this is the first time I’m really seeing you. Seeing you and seeing how you see other people. It’s beautiful, Max.”

“I get that,” Max said, his chest feeling a little tight and his mind overwhelmed. She was way too good for him. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the only girl in the room.”

“Well,” she said, tilting to her head to the side, “Right now I am.”

Max smiled and bit his lip. It was too easy to get entranced by her, too easy to miss when she started to lean in, too easy to get obsessed the way her hand touched his cheek.

And too hard not to get pissed when Isobel busted inside before either of them could close the space.

“Hello,” Isobel said, clearly happy to ruin the moment, “Hate to break up the love fest going on in here, but your dad called, Liz. Said he tried calling you, but your phone was dead and he got worried. He wanted to know if you were going to make it home for dinner.”

“What time is it?” Liz asked, glancing down at the laptop and her eyes widening, “Oh, shoot, sorry, Max, I gotta go. I had fun.”

“Wait, I’ll drive you,” he offered as she got up quickly. She shook her head as she grabbed her bag.

“Don’t worry, the walk isn’t far. I’ll see you later?” Liz said. He nodded and she slipped past Isobel, hurrying down the stairs. Max sighed and leaned back.

“Way to ruin the moment, Iz,” he grumbled. Isobel raised an eyebrow.

“Way to move in on the girl Michael’s been staring at for a year,” Isobel pointed out, “Does he know that you’re doing that or is this just a fun way to get back at him for breathing too loud when he sleeps?”

Max couldn’t see himself, but he was sure his face paled as he was reminded of Michael. He’d forgotten that’s what he was doing. Hell, he’d forgotten everything that wasn’t Liz. Guilt overcame him too fast and he quickly pulled out his phone.

Max: tomorrow after church?

“Hope you enjoy telling him,” Isobel said in a sing-song voice as she walked away. Max swallowed and very quickly made the decision not to tell him. Michael didn’t have much, he deserved something. If that meant he couldn’t have Liz, then so be it. It would just be the worst.

Fuck.

#malex #malex fic #echo #echo fic #michael guerin #alex manes #max evans #liz ortecho #rnm fic #my fic #whats it gonna be?

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