#not so much a comic but it has speech so i suppose its fine to tag it as such | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stxleslyds · 4 years

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MY TOUGHTS ON PART ONE OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

Finally I have read part one of the Red Hood story in Batman: Urban Legends!

This story is very interesting, we start with the Red Hood looking for the people who are providing Gotham with a new drug. This drug “Cheerdrops” has been passed around for weeks at this point and it has had devastating results among it's users. If you know Jason you understand that drugs are a big issue for him and one that he treats very carefully and seriously.

As he interrogates people he arrives to the building where one of the dealers of this drug is supposed to be, there he finds a horrific scene, a boy is desperately trying to wake up his mother who appears to have overdosed in her bed. Jason is quick to call an ambulance and get in contact with Oracle in order to find the boy's father who is (as he finds out later) the man that he was looking for.

Jason sees this scene and can't help but compare it to the time he went through this situation with his mom all those years ago, so he takes the boy with him so he can take him to his father, who Jason is hoping is a good man that had to sell drugs in order to help his family.

That's basically the premise of this first part of the story but now i will write about my thoughts on the specifics of the story.

The story begins with Jason giving a speech about fear and how it's used,

"Fear. Its a tool, it's his tool. I never really adopted it, maybe because he kept that fear all to himself." Then he continues with "Never had to rely on it, had to work harder to take out the bad guys, had to be...more direct." he finishes that thought with "Rubber Bullets. So that fear doesn't get turned around on me."

I for one really liked this Fear speech, it does really sum up what the Batman does, he relies on the Fear that he imposes on Gotham's criminals and such while Robin on the other hand was never meant to work with fear, which is true.

It did remind me of the speech that Alfred gave in issue #10 of Under the Red Hood about how Batman works with fear and Jason had some thoughts on it, here is some of it,

"Master Jason had a condescending practice of referring to the costumed criminals elements as 'dress ups'. He also noted that such individuals did not fear the Batman the way street thugs and mafioso did. The 'dress ups' did not believe he was a monster." "...the boy did say something to me that chilled me to the bone...even then. 'They all know he won't kill them.'"

Anyway let's go back to the actual comic I am talking about...

Jason speaks from his position as Red Hood in current time and says that he uses rubber bullets in order to keep the Bat at bay, the fear that the Bat uses against other criminals cannot be used against him if he plays within the Bat's rules.

As he was doing that he was actually trying to get info about who is making the drug but all he was able to get was who was selling it to the person he was interrogating. This drug is dangerous and Jason has to work fast.

Here is where we see the first flashback scene, we see Jason in the cave before he was able to go out as Robin and he is not to happy about it. The art is very beautiful but sadly in these panels i found my first problem with the context of Jason becoming Robin and how Zdarsky seems to set Jason's feelings on the first Robin.

It seems that Zdarsky is going for the “Jason believed Dick was the perfect Robin and no matter what he did he would never be as good as him” route, which fine ok, that's your right but, is it really necessary? I must admit i am a little tired of this particular thing because i adore the fact that when Dick and Jason first met they were fine with one another (even if a little wary at the very start). And the whole competitive and “i will never be as good as X person” is really tiring in the Robin/Batfamily fandom.

That problem is not as significant as the next one though.

Jason not thinking that Robin was “badass”. Well this is not only a bad take but it's completely OOC for Jason, no matter how you see it. From his first appearance as Robin to the flashbacks in Winick's UtRH and even through both of Lobdell's runs Jason has always loved the concept and the mantle of Robin as a child.

Batman v1, #385.

So that whole take is wrong, i don't like it and also who on this or any universe would rather call themselves Batboy? Honestly i hope this is never brought up again or i will cry. ((((Also in this house Robin will always be the name that Mary gave Dick and then he used as his hero name so it hurts a lot more))))

Also at the end of this first flashback Jason discovers a room full of firearms and is obviously surprised because Batman hates those so he asks why he has them, B responds that he has to understand how they work for his detective work, but that's not all he says, he also says this “...Guns are a coward's weapon, and we will not be cowards.”

Alright Mr. Zdarsky i see the irony... i also see the Daredevil / Punisher thingie right there.

Anyway we are now back to the present where we see Batman seeing the effects of the drug in one of its victims, after saving that person he takes some samples of the drug. We also get to see two police officers with different views on the “masks”, that's a nice way to set the story after the Joker War and before the Magistrate.

Back to Jason, he seems to be struggling, he can't find the people making/providing the drugs in Gotham and is also doubting his skills, he tells a man that if the information that he gave him is incorrect he “will find him” followed with another internal speech full of self doubt, “...sure thing Red Hood, right now you can't even find a street drug. Half of Gotham's teenagers could find it no problem. You never were the best detective.”

Alright, so Jason feels insecure about his skills now? First you have pre-Robin Jason not feeling like he could be able to keep up with the first Robin and now, Jason as a grown man has doubts about the skills that he has used for a long while now? I mean, press X for DOUBT because UtRH showed us how much of a badass and extremely skilled he is. This man planed everything in order to turn the Bat's world upside down (and this story has references to UtRH so it definitely happened) and now he feels like he is not that good?

Shit. i know where this is going, first the insecurities that he has already worked out... I can see it coming, the next big thing will be Daddy issues. Wonderful i hate it and i hope i am wrong because those “issues” are more than resolved, i know that's the only trope DC throws at Jason but honestly how different will it be this time?

Fine, lets move on. Jason finds himself in one of the apartments and what he sees is horrifying. Lying on a bed there is a woman completely catatonic with a horrible smile on her face and right next to her a terrified little boy.

Here is the best take on Jason's character so far.

Realizing that the child is scared of the situation and the masked man that just came into his home Jason takes off his mask and reassures the kid that he is there to help, it's quickly made obvious that the woman has overdosed on Cheerdrops, he makes sure to call an ambulance for her stating that she seems to be in a drug-related coma.

Its important to note that Jason is doing this as he is having troubling thoughts about how much this scene reminds him of the time he was in this little boy's (Tyler) shoes. Its hard for him but he soon realizes that he needs to make sure Tyler is safe.

He asks Tyler if he has another parent, he does and his name is Andy, after taking a look around the house Jason deduces that maybe the father is also taking drugs so if the police comes they will surely take Tyler and put him in the system, this idea is not one Jason is fond of so he calls Oracle, he asks if she can locate Tyler's dad's phone, when she asks about the kid Jason says that he will be the one keeping him safe.

Now we find ourselves back with Batman where he is investigating the components of Cheerdrops, he finds out that the drug is a modified version of Scarecrow's fear gas that gives the victim a sense of extreme happiness instead of fear.

Here we get confirmation of when in the timeline this story occurs, which is after the events of Infinite Frontier (where there was an attack on Arkham and many patients/prisoners were killed or escaped).

B suggests to Oracle that maybe Crane didn't die there and that he might be behind this drug, he will be on the job right away! To this Oracle is like well shit, so she tells B that Jason is also working this case...and here comes a funny yet confusing interaction.

Barbara says “I know you two aren't exactly friends right now but...” before she finishes Batman interrupts her by saying “He is a killer Barbara. I will do this alone.”

OH BOY is this interaction confusing! First of all may i point out how different this conversation is from the one in Three Jokers where the roles were basically reversed??? Please tell me that i am not the only one who finds that funny! Anyway that story doesn't matter here, but Red Hood Outlaw from Rebirth does, right?

Here is the thing, the last person that Jason “killed” in rebirth was Penguin and he actually didn't do it, he had him trapped in a panic room in his own Casino. Batman already beat the living shit out of Jason in RHatO #25 for it...and some time has passed, B surely found out that Jason didn't kill Penguin by now, i mean isn't he like the best detective to ever detective in the history of the universe??

Not only that but Jason has been using rubber bullets for a while and even at the start he mentions that, he basically implies that he is playing by the Bat's rules to keep him off his back. Maybe B hasn't let go of the duffel bag full of heads or any of the shitty people Jason killed during UtRH??? If B still holds that against Jason then why would he try to make Jason part of his Bat clan at the beginning of RHatO Rebirth?

Maybe he still thinks that Jason killed the penguin...but even then isn't B working with Harley and Ghost-Maker? You know, people who have killed? Why is Jason different? Did Jason kill someone recently that we don't know about? Jason only kills a very distinct set of people (that are very not nice) so i guess i don't see the logic...

Anyway second flashback, and this time we have a look at what was going on in the Batcave with B and Alfred during the events of UtRH! Nothing that wasn't explored in UtRH is said here but we do see Alfred explicitly telling Bruce how much they failed Jason. There is a heavy insinuation that the fact that Batman keeps sending the Joker to Arkham only for him to escape and kill more people actually makes B responsible for those deaths and i love that. Thank you.

Back to Jason and Tyler we get to see some very adorable scenes between the two. Jason gives the lower half of his mask to Tyler to protect his identity like a superhero and we have a really sweet moment in which Tyler chooses the Blue Hood as his name because he likes the colour blue (same Tyler).

After he leaves Tyler in a place where he will be safe he goes to the building where Andy should be and let me tell you the more Jason sees the less hopeful he becomes about Andy being just one of the people selling the drug... He does some shooting and incapacitating and then follows the man that is trying to escape and here is when shit hits the fan.

Andy is a disgusting human being. He hates Tyler's mother and doesn't care that she might be dead and the piece of shit hates his son so much that he gave a barely 10 year old drugs.

Yeah. BANG BANG BANG MOTHERFUKER.

If you think that this leads to Jason being a little more like his UtRH self, you know the guy that said that people who gave drugs to kids will get killed without a thought...yeah that's not happening, here comes the guilt!

I get it he just killed a man, but, did you read what that man said?

Anyway that's how the first part of this story ends.

The story is good. it has things that don't make much sense but i think it's because Zdarsky is a Batman fan and not a Red Hood fan in the sense that he doesnt know much about Jason's character and that this is his first ever DC work.

I cant wait to see where this story goes, while i hope “unresolved daddy issues” doesn't become a theme yet again in a Red Hood story i believe it's where we are headed. I will keep on reading because i am invested in Jason and Tyler's relationship and what is going to happen now that Jason killed Andy.

Let me know what you thought about the issue and my post if you want! Bye!

#jason todd #red hood #red hood outlaw #batman urban legends #robin #batman and robin

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runrundoyourstuff · 4 years

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Seasons

(A Steven Universe Fic, 2632 words)

Written with love for a holiday exchange with the wonderful @mimik-u !

Prompt: Steven teaches one of the Diamonds about something beautifully mundane (a la Peridot learning about rain.)

It’s almost comical how the Dondai pales in size when compared to the Arm Ship—and the magnitude of the difference only grows as Steven descends the ridge. There are some items, both of human and Gem origin, that seemed larger when he was smaller—when he was younger—when everything mysterious in the world, every new thing he learned about himself, filled him with wonder. The Diamond ships, however, are not among these items. They’re as large now as they always seemed to him, if not quite as foreboding. As are the Diamonds themselves, and he is reminded of this, as Yellow disembarks from her spacecraft.

She doesn’t see him right away. Or if she does notice the car, she doesn’t have the frame of reference to recognize it as his, and even after he parks it beside the ship and gets out, it’s several moments before she turns around and acknowledges him standing there.

“Steven!”

“Hey, Yellow.”

“When I called, I hadn’t realized…” She sputters. “Your...your family returned my message to inform me that you were leaving on a conquest—”

“A conquest?”

“Yes, they said that you were going to travel—”

“Yeah, but not on a conquest!”

“Of course, of course, a scouting mission, then—”

“No! Nothing like that! Just a trip! I just...needed to hit the road for a while. Figure out what’s next.”

“I...right, of course. Your—I mean, the Pearl said that you would be taking a hiatus from your Diamond duties…”

At this, Steven chuckles. “Pearl wants me to.” But then he becomes serious. “I shouldn’t laugh. She’s trying to make sure that I take care of myself. She—all of them really, want to make sure I know that I don’t have to be involved in any Gem stuff if I don’t want to. That it’s my choice. And ya know, it’s true that I don’t want it to be my whole life, not like it was when I was a kid. And because there’s no hierarchy anymore, I do want to give other Gems a chance to manage things on Earth if they want to—to show them it doesn’t always have to be a Diamond, and I’m not a Diamond anyway—but I do want to be involved, ya know? Or at least know what’s going on! I put so much work into everything, and not all of it was bad. I was really proud of a lot of what we did, and the Gems are my family…” A pause. “Anyway, that’s all to say that I routed some of the messages from the Base to my phone.”

“I see. I…” She pauses. “I didn’t intend...You did not need to come. I merely called because I didn’t want to catch you off guard. Give your...our...Given my history, I thought if I showed up on your planet unannounced—”

“It’s not my planet.”

“No, of course not. I meant the planet on which you reside. I’ve already...I did not intend to make you feel that…that you needed to come fix—”

Steven raises a hand. “I know. I just happened to be in the area, so I thought I’d stop by. Say hi.”

“Ah. Alright.” The silence resounds. Yellow’s eyes flit away.

“So,” Steven says after a moment—looking for something, anything, to cut through the quiet. “Why Zona?”

“Is that what this place is called?” Yellow glances around. “I needed an area of the Earth where I would cause the least disruptions, where I could dig a sufficiently large hole such that I could access the Cluster. I initially planned on going to one of the Kindergartens, as we’d already irrevocably destroyed all hope of organic life thriving there—I thought I could minimize the destruction. But each already has a fairly extensive subterranean framework that makes it impossible for me to dig deep enough.” She sighs. “I realize this place isn’t perfect. My digging will certainly disrupt some of the plant life. But it appeared at least that there were few humans in the vicinity…”

“Mm.” Steven leads against the hood of his car. “I’m surprised you brought your ship out here and didn’t just Warp. We’re not that far from the Beta Kindergarten, and there’s a Warp there...”

“Those Warps weren’t built for us. We’re much too large.”

“I guess that’s true, but you could always shapeshift.”

“Hmm. I suppose. But there was also the equipment to bring.”

“Equipment?”

“Yes, I...There are...billions of shards in the Cluster. I figured...if I am going to dismantle it and reconstruct each of the Gems whose shards it conatiend, it would likely be easier for me to do it on Earth, rather than bringing all the Shards back to Homeworld. I don’t want to risk losing any of them or damaging any of them even further in transit…And while I may need to ultimately to transport some of them back to Homeworld to locate all the pieces, and though it may be disconcerting for the other Gems to reform on Earth...I…” She leaves the syllable hanging in the air, turns her head away. Steven can just barely make out her tense jaw as though she is gritting her teeth. Sparks radiate from her skin.

“Yellow? Are you...okay?”

“I’m fine!” But then she bows her head, inhales and releases, murmurs: “I apologize, Steven. I am not angry with you. I simply…It has been difficult enough for me to face each of the Gems I have reconstructed on Homeworld. Once they recover from the shock and the terror, they have each looked at me with such disdain. And those Fusion experiments, while they were certainly terrible, pale in comparison to the Cluster. I can only imagine what each of the Gem’s contained within it will feel. And I will deserve it. I hurt so many Gems in the service of the Empire.”

Steven opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Yellow continues, speaking ever rapidly, ever louder, as though desperate to expel the words. “Do not try to assuage my guilty conscience! That...is not your responsibility. I shouldn’t have just put you in a position to think that it was.”

Another tentative backpedaling, Steven thinks. A walking on eggshells moment, like he’s witnessed with the Gems and Dad over the past several months. And difficult though it is for him to sometimes believe, it’s not as though Yellow is wrong, at least not if he trusts his therapist. But there is a distant look in her eye, a panicked tension in her cheeks, which, when coupled with the fact that this is the first time he’s seen her since his breakdown, makes Steven wonder if she is remembering that day on the beach.

His own memories of it are fuzzy-to-nonexistant; he remembers the pain, and the panic, and the anger he’d held despite knowing that he shouldn't. Then, he has a vague impression of multiple embraces, of Connie kissing his forehead, of crying hot, cathartic tears...And then he’d woken up in the Cluster’s hand, with the eyes of most of the people he loved and almost everyone he’d ever fought all on him.

Despite his own lack of recollection, however, Connie assures him that she’d given everyone—the Diamonds included—something of a blunt talking to that day, a rallying speech, but she won’t elaborate on the specifics of what exactly she’d said. Might that—whatever its contents— be behind Yellow’s hasty assurances now?

“Okay,” Steven responds finally. “I won’t try to make you feel less guilty. But can I show you something?”

Yellow furrows her eyebrows. “Very well.”

“It’s just on the top of the canyon.”

They deliberate for a few moments on the details. Yellow offers to carry him, but even if she’s not White, Steven declines being held in a Diamond’s hand, and while she could shapeshift to fit in the passenger seat of the Dondai, she ultimately elects to simply follow behind the car as Steven slowly drives it up the cliff.

They reach the plateau just as the sun begins to dip in the horizon, casting a golden glow over the grass, over the Autumn leaves, just starting to paint themselves with the vibrant shades that return year after year.

Steven opens the door and steps out. “You never spent much time on Earth, did you?”

Yellow considers. “No.”

“Do you know what I think my mom fell in love with about this planet?”

“Organic life, of course. Humans.” She gestures to Steven. “Obviously.”

“Well, yeah, but not just them. Us. I think it was this stuff too.”

Yellow squints. “These weeds?! These...dying outgrowths?!”

“With things that change. Things that grow. There’s so much of it here.”

“Hm.”

Steven paces over to the grass, then sinks down onto it so that it brushes against his bare calves. It’s mostly soft on his skin but there are dryer patches too, scratchier places on the ground as some of the longer areas start to dry out for the season. The sun dips lower in the sky, and it leaks hues of pink and orange onto the daytime canvas of darkening blue. Yellow looms behind him.

“Feel this.” He pats the ground next to him, and tries not to wince as Yellow’s gargantuan hand settles down on the grass. “You might not be able to tell, but it’s growing. Even right now. By the time the snow—frozen water that falls from the sky—starts to cover it in a few months, it’ll probably be a few inches taller than it is right now. And then it’ll take a break for a while, but when Spring comes next year—when the weather gets warmer again—it’ll start again.

“The trees too. Look out there—they grow taller every year, and every year the leaves change into those beautiful colors you can see. And the shades are similar every year, but never exactly the same. Then the leaves fall off, and then bud again and come back. And the trees keep getting taller. And every time the leaves return, the whole tree is a little bit different too.”

Yellow hesitates. “These are familiar to me. Someone, I believe a Peridot—your Peridot—”

“She’s not my Peridot, but I know who you mean.”

“Yes...Well, she brought some of these...trees...from Earth to Homeworld, and determined how best to make them grow there. I’ve been gazing at them through the windows of the palace ever since, but I hadn’t realized how elaborate, how ever-present, their growth cycles were…”

“I’ve lived on Earth my whole life, and I only just started thinking about it recently. It’s easy to take for granted, but it’s really incredible when you stop to think about it.” He angles his head upward. “And it’s not just the plants. Look at the sky. It changes like this every day.” A pause. “Well, it’s really not the sky that’s changing—Connie told me that it’s an effect of how the planet moves around our sun. But from down here on Earth, it looks like it’s always changing. In a different way every day. I don’t think it’s like that on Homeworld.”

Yellow settles next to him at last, squatting, and then kneeling. “It isn’t. Things are constructed on Homeworld—not grown. We have a sun, but our sky does not transform like this.”

“Exactly. And I think that’s why my mom fell in love with the Earth so much. She was so in awe of how everything naturally grew and changed here.” Steven sighs, clenches him gemstone beneath his hand. “I’m still angry at her a lot of the time, but, like, I get it. She saw herself as this monster.” Here Steven pauses, glances away for a moment before finally letting the words return. “And she didn’t think that she was capable of growth or change. All she thought she could do was pretend to be someone else. And then she found herself on this planet where all anything did was grow for real, and she wanted to be a part of that even in some small way, so she made me.”

“Steven…”

“But the point is, she was wrong. She could have grown as herself. I think she did, even if she couldn’t see it. And she and I aren't the only Gems that grew. All of my friends and family have. None of us is the same as we were when I was a kid. Maybe it just took coming to Earth to see that, ya know? Gems can grow and change, just like the trees can, and the grass, and the sky.

“So yeah,” Steven continues. “White hurt you, and you hurt Mom, and Mom hurt Pearl and Garnet and Amethyst and Spinel and you, and everyone she hurt hurt me, and I hurt Jasper and Dad and a lot of people and could have hurt a lot more, and you hurt all the Gems who were corrupted, and who became the Fusion experiments and the Cluster...and that’s all true, and we all have to deal with that and make the things we did wrong right the best that we can. And it’s hard, and it sucks. But the ways we’ve been hurt and hurt other people aren’t all we are. We can grow and change too. As ourselves. I think the Earth is just one big reminder of that.”

Yellow’s brows are once again furrowed, her jaw agape. “I…”

“So, yeah, it’s going to be hard to face all the Gems in the Cluster as you put them all back together. But it’s the right thing to do. And if it ever becomes too much, you can always come up here, and watch the world change and grow to remind yourself that you’re growing too. You’re better than you were, and if you keep working at it, you’ll keep getting better.”

Then, without waiting for Yellow to respond, Steven stands, walks back over to the Dondai. “Now, I gotta hit the road. I want to get to Vegas by tomorrow. It was nice to see you, Yellow.”

“You as well, Steven.” Yellow rises to her feet.

“Good luck,” he calls out the window as he pulls away, and glancing in the rearview mirror, he sees Yellow’s arm raised in farewell, something like a small, apprehensive smile on her lips.

Six months later, after a sojourn up and down the West Coast, Steven returns to the ridge en route back to Beach City for a visit. He pulls up just as the sun is rising over the canyon, glinting off Yellow’s arm ship, and off of the chest and arms and backs of the little gaggle of Gems gathered next to the ship and the adjacent hole. Yellow is not among them, though. She stands on the crest of the cliff, gazing at the trees, at the little buds beginning to spring into being on each branch.

“Steven.” She turns to him in greeting as he gets out of the car.

“You’ve been busy!”

“Yes, we’re progressing nicely.”

“We?”

Yellow nods. “Some of the Gems I reconstructed from the Cluster decided to remain here to help. Then others in Little Homeworld—and even a few on Homeworld itself—learned about what we were doing, and traveled here to volunteer.” She pauses. “They’re here for the sake of the Gems inside the Cluster, not for me. Still, it is nice not to be alone.”

“Mm.”

Yellow turns from the trees to the canyon, in the direction of the rising sun. The growing orange light catches her Gemstone too, and it glimmers in it. “It’s a beautiful morning.”

“Yeah,” Steven says. “It is.”

[ao3]

#my fic #su #yellow diamond #steven universe #the cluster

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

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The Killing Cure (Part 20)

The trip to Moreau’s Reservoir is somehow worse than the trip to House Beneviento’s was. To go with the snow and ice are many pools of bubbling goo. It isn’t so bad to begin with, but the closer that they get to the reservoir, the thicker this substance becomes. And it smells absolutely foul, completely and unbearably unholy. Ethan thinks of fish and moldy cheese. Alcina’s nose is crinkled in disgust and his stomach feels queasy. To think, just a two days prior, he had been listening to the woman sing. Only two days ago, he was comfortable and content… He can’t believe that he is actually finding himself thinking that Castle Dimitrescu is a place of comfort. A place that he wouldn’t mind returning to. A place that, at the moment, he very much longs to return to. He can only imagine how Alcina feels.

Alcina who can no longer simply step over the slime coated gate. “I don’t want to touch it.” She says after a few moments--her face is now somehow even more scrunched. “You touch it.”

Ethan thinks that his face might be a mossy shade of green. He sticks his tongue out. “No way, you do it.”

“I will meet you back at my castle, Winters.” She takes only a step away. And then a second. He knows what she is doing but he, with a groan, grumbles, “alright fine. I’ll do it.” Alcina stops walking, not that she had actually planned on going very far. She observes with her arms cross and noticeable secondhand discomfort as he kicks the gate. Only when it doesn’t budge does he notice that there is a ladder next to it. “Sorry, Lady D, you’re going to have to…”

“Do not call me that.”

“Sorry, Lady Dimitrescu.” He rolls his eyes. “You’re going to have to touch it after all.” He gestures to the ladder which has its own, significantly thinner, layer of slime.

Alcina inhales very deeply only to cringe and bunch slightly in on herself. If he weren’t so utterly appalled himself, he might have laughed at her reaction. Instead he finds himself scrambling up the ladder, trying to fight his gag reflex. The texture is quite horrid--sticky and only semi-solid. He can feel his hands slipping from the rungs. To his dismay he is forced to cling on more tightly.

Alcina waits for him to ascend before climbing up herself. If he weren’t so busy trying to cleans his own hands he would be snickering at the assortment of faces that the woman is making. Each one is more comical than the next.

“This…” she half-huff and half-growls. “This is why I don’t visit Moreau unless I have to.” Something tells him that she never has to. “Out of the way, Winters.” She shoves the man to the side and steals the water pump. He thanks the lord that her shoves don’t pack the same force, but he is surprised to find that she--with enough disgust and determination--can still knock him on his little manthing ass.

He sighs, he supposes his hands are clean enough. Not that it matters, he has a very strong feeling that they have not seen the last of that goop. Once Alcina has decided that her hands are clean enough, they continue their walk. A walk that entails a steady string of complaints and the odd curse. She must truly resent this place if she’s willing to put aside her eloquent speech even for a moment.

He supposes that he understands; every now and then he steps into such a thick puddle of goo that his foot gets caught in it. The sucking slorp that it makes as he pulls it out is stomach churning in the most unpleasant way. And Alcina has just narrowly missed one such pool. The woman is lucky that he has so generously decided to take the lead.

“No, no! You simpleton! You turn to the left, not the right!”

“You could have told me that before I started to turn right.”

“You could pay attention.”

“I don’t know where we’re going!” He throws his hands up. He truly hopes that it is the slime and the cold that is making her unbearably cranky.

She clears her throat, “well, keep heading this way.” She gestures towards the path to what looks like a decaying old mineshaft.

“Of course we have to go into a mineshaft.” He grumbles to himself. He doesn’t know why expected anything but an abysmal looking, waterlogged hole in the ground. And she is going to make him go in first. To make a wretched situation worse, there is more slime than snow leading to it.

Alcina sucks in a deep breath. “Would it kill that little beast to keep his liar even a little less repulsive?” She sets one foot into the goo and cringes back. With a loud slurp and a squelch, the mess settles back into place. A banner of it clings to the sole of her shoe. She clears her throat. “Moreau’s room, unless he’s moved it, is just down that mine shaft and to the left. There’s a small alcove. You are a small man, you should be able to fit through. I will meet you back at my castle.”

“You’re really going to make me go down there alone? He wants to kill me?”

“Would you rather go alone or carry me across…”

He scoops her into his arms without a hesitation.

“Winters! What are you…?”

“I’m not going down there alone.” He declares. He isn’t sure exactly how he is going to carry her down the mineshaft ladder. She may not be nine feet tall but she isn’t particularly light either. No less, he holds her tight and close to his chest. “But you’re going to have to climb down the ladder on your own.”

“I--I am perfectly capable of that.” Alcina grumbles. He can’t tell if she is pleased that he had so readily obliged her request or if she is intent on making this as awkward and uncomfortable as she can. Perhaps she hadn’t anticipated him actually lifting her up. Just when he is finally getting used to her weight in his arms and her head against his chest, he has to set her down. “Can you go first this time?”

Alcina sighs, “fine.”

With a relieved sigh of her own, he carefully touches her feet to the ground, taking care to place her in the least grimy area.

.oOo.

She hates to admit it, but Ethan’s arms were significantly more pleasant than enduring the wet, spongy feeling of Moreau’s rancid dwellings. Perhaps they should have skipped Moreau’s and got straight to...she shudders--no, she would like to put that off for as long as she can.

She supposes that it doesn’t matter, they are almost there regardless. Not that Moreau’s living space is actually any more livable than the rest of this repugnant reservoir. Frankly, she would like a bath just thinking about the dirty waters she may well have to tread soon. She only hopes that Moreau will be in front of that box again--she wracks her brain for the name of it--in front of that television set.

“This place smells...God…” Ethan pinches his nose.

This time she doesn’t scold the man for his chatter. She feels much the same. At last they come to the alcove and to her fortune, Moreau is indeed sitting before the flashing box chuckling to himself. “Salvatore.” She hisses, pushing Ethan behind her. Taking the hint, he ducks down. If only she had the height to conceal him more securely.

“Why do I have to…”

“He scares easily.” Alcina whispers. “Just let me...ease him into the idea of conversing with you.” Because that went over so well with Donna… Granted, Donna is significantly more reserved. Salvatore, at the very least, is rather sociable after the awkwardness subsides.

“Salvatore!” She repeats, louder this time.

The man turns his head. “Oh, hello, Lady Dimitrescu.” He greets. From the look of it, he only wants to slink away from her retreat further into his rancid little dwelling. “What brings you around? No one ever visits me.”

She should very well tell him that he might get more visitors if the path wasn’t so infested with unidentifiable and putridly smelling mucus. “There is something I’d like to discuss with you, Moreau.” She knows that it is now a matter of choosing words very delicately. “Can, we come inside?”

“We?”

“There is someone that I would formally like you to meet, Moreau. Someone who would think you very helpful.”

“Me, helpful?”

Alcina nods, “we will come inside and we can talk it over.” She musters a tone that doesn’t leave room for disagreement.

He coughs nervously, a horrid sound that is as wet as anything else in this hellish place. “Sure thing, Lady Dimitrescu.”

“Come then, Winters. Let’s get this over with.”

#Alcina Dimitrescu #Lady Dimitrescu #Ethan Winters #Alcina/Ethan #Fanfiction

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galacticlamps · 3 years

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Tagged by @the--highlanders ! Thanks!

How many works do you have on AO3?

What’s your total AO3 word count?

76,200

(oh what a nice even number - I should try to mess that up as soon as possible, shouldn’t I?)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Aw man is this intentionally worded to be really hard to answer? I get that it says ‘written’ and not ‘posted’ but then what constitutes a ‘fandom?’ I definitely wrote fics for stuff I was interested in long before I even knew the word ‘fic’ - I did it throughout my childhood, and then in high school, and while I didn’t do it as much in college, it still happened from time to time. So a lot of the books/movies/tv shows/plays/musicals I wrote things for aren’t really fandoms, and frankly, I had to check my old folder just now to even remember some of them existed. I’ll just list the ones that I know for sure had fandoms, since that’s more fun (and embarrassing), right?

Obviously Doctor Who, classic and modern, Torchwood, Sherlock Holmes (ironically more of these seem to be about the books, but yes, I will admit, some for that tv show too), Les Mis, a couple different Marvel comics & movies, Good Omens, hell, I even found a Night Vale fic in there just now.

And I know there are other older things not even in that folder, some of which never made it to a computer at all, so if I had to ballpark a number I’d probably say around 25ish but really, who knows?

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Across the Gap

On the Spot

Expectations

Shards of Memories & Fragments of Glass

Itemized

(this was fun, I’d never noticed Ao3 even had a stats page until now lol)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to! Sometimes I take a long time to do so but for the most part, I usually get around to it. The rare exception would be if I first saw the comment when I was super busy/distracted and then felt like way too much time passed before I noticed it again, that it might be awkward if I said something at that point.

I do genuinely enjoy hearing what people think, but I’m also weirdly terrified of making anyone feel like they have to reply to my comments. I know that’s probably a little strange, but it’s actually a large part of why I made this Ao3 account in the first place - my original one, from high school, is followed by some long-time friends of mine who aren’t interested in this fandom, some of whom are involved in art & writing professionally. The thought of anyone like that reading something I wrote out of friendliness or even just curiosity and potentially having to pretend they liked it for the same reasons stressed me tf out, so I like having this virtually anonymous one because I can relax knowing that anyone who reads or interacts with something I wrote has probably done so only because they wanted to, rather than feeling obligated, and there’s no pressure on them to be nice to me about it if anything I write or post annoys them - so I really hope nobody who does just know me as an anonymous blog has ever worried about offending me by not replying to something, trust me, I’m perfectly happy with it!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think I’ve really written any angsty endings? I guess the answer would have to be Reckless just because it involves the characters arguing about sad/weighty things and there isn’t really any solution to those issues - but even then I think I ended it with a kind of acceptance that stops it from really qualifying as angst? I also set it in the the same universe as other fics, so maybe that doesn’t even count as an ending? Am I that bad at ending things on angst? Lol

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Obviously none of the fics I’ve posted are crossovers but I’m trying to think now if any of my WIP’s are - I’ve definitely poached setting/premise ideas from other media, but in terms of actual crossovers . . . I’ve got a few cross-era or cross-Doctor, a few involving Torchwood, but that’s already the same universe, so the only thing that’d qualify as a true crossover would be some vague pieces of a fic where Jamie, Zoe, and Two end up on the Enterprise, since I think the 60s series of Star Trek and Dr Who feel kind of compatible, don’t they? In fact, aren’t there like officially licensed crossover comics or something? Or did I make that up? Idk, and the ideas are very loose, so it’s not much of a WIP either

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope, never

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I’ve never written smut, but I’m wondering if it’s possible that could change soon. There’s a longish multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on for a frankly embarrassing amount of time, and the plot does call for a sex scene at one point towards the end, but I can’t seem to make up my mind on how - uh, I guess the word is explicit? - it should get. I know I could easily do a fade to black/implication thing, but it’s kind of a source of contention and anxiety for the characters, so to skip over writing the actual scene and just revisit them afterwards rings of “and they slept together and now everything’s fine!” which feels kinda cheap to me - in this context, anyway - and not the right payoff for a long fic that’s otherwise more of an interpersonal drama/slightly a period piece, if I had to place it in a genre. I feel like my aversion to actually writing the scene might just be prudishness I should get over, or maybe just self-doubt, because I know I’d rather have a well-written, funny, character-development-supporting sex scene than nothing at all, but since I’ve never had any interest in writing a scene like that before, I don’t know if I can do it well, and I also don’t want to ruin a fic I’m otherwise proud of by doing it badly... ugh I have to figure this out

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I seriously doubt it

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I mean, it’s gotta be Two & Jamie. I’ve shipped things before with varying levels of investment, but I’ve never been able to use the term ‘otp’ in a literal sense until I came across them, and now it’s already basically gone out of fashion, go figure!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I’m not sure if I have one? My WIP doc is huge, but I don’t actually intend to get around to finishing everything in it, so I’d like to think that anything I’ve currently singled out to complete can actually get done.

That said, I do have a few AU’s that I don’t really plan to finish, but it might be cool if I could. Two of them are for all the main + some supporting characters of the Second Doctor’s era - one’s a modern day school teachers AU, and the other is a typical fantasy/fairy tale AU. Another is just Two/Jamie, based on Doctor Faustus (specifically the Marlowe play version) but right now there are two different versions of the ending coexisting in my head. I’ve written parts of scenes & some gen. backstory for all of those ideas, but I don’t know if I’ll ever try to finish them, or what form a finished product would even take - a series of one-shots set in the same universe? one long multi-chapter fic with some kind of overarching plot? And the amount of context/worldbuilding a big AU like these would require might not make them very appealing fics for people to read, so maybe it is better if I just keep them to myself, since in my head I already know what’s going on in those worlds lol.

What are your writing strengths?

I honestly don’t know. I haven’t had a creative writing class since middle school, and since then I’ve only ever shown creative writing to others in a fandom context, so it’s been a while since I’ve discussed it or gotten critical feedback. I suppose when I work in other arts or even academic writing contexts, people usually say I’m kind of insightful or at least detail oriented, which might just be another way of saying I overthink things, but I like to imagine I’m decent at finding little points of interest to expand upon.

What are your writing weaknesses?

If you’ve read this far I feel like you must know what I’m about to say: I do not know how to be concise.

Usually when I’m writing a fic, I put down the dialogue first on its own, leaving out the action of the scene and whatever plot/context led there, even if I’ve already figured all of that out. But then when I go to add those things in, they’re always longer than I wanted them to be. I don’t mind writing something long, but I don’t want my fics to be a slog to get through either, and there can be a point at which the stuff I’ve added for context overwhelms the stuff that I wanted the fic to be about in the first place, so it becomes a structural/proportion issue too. I haven’t completely given up on any fics because of this yet, but there’s one I’ve been struggling with for a couple months now - probably because I’m even second-guessing myself on which scenes need to be written out and which can just be referenced like a recap. Hopefully I figure that one out soon.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

((this is karma isn’t it? i posted a fic last week with two words of gaelic in it and was worried about that and now this is karma))

In general, I don’t want to do it. I feel like you’ve gotta have a really good grasp of a language to write dialogue & speech patterns for someone who’s a native speaker, and since I’m far from fluent in any language the characters I write for are, I wouldn’t feel confident writing any significant amount of dialogue in, say, Gaelic.

As a sidenote, though, I kinda love it when other people do it, particularly for Jamie. Irish (Gaeilge) and Scottish (Gàidhlig) are both languages I’ve wanted to learn for a long time, because my family’s fresh out of living speakers of either & I think that’s a shame, but I started with Irish and at the moment I’m still very much learning it. As different as they are, it still helps me understand parts of lyrics or texts that I come across in Gàidhlig fairly frequently, so when it comes up in a fic I get to feel like I’m being responsible and practicing, and it’s great when I can actually understand what’s being said.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I’m gonna go with Harry Potter even though that’s probably not a perfectly accurate answer - it’s almost certainly the first thing that has a fandom that I ever wrote for, but it was in a notebook when I was a kid and never something that I even typed on a computer, much less posted online or shared with other members of a fandom. But even then, I’m sure it wasn’t the first pre-existing fictional universe I ever set an original story in, because I did that a lot when I was a kid, it’s just hard to remember those clearly or on any kind of timeline.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I’m very partial to Across the Gap, so I was pleasantly surprised to see that ranked first on the kudos thing above - but I’ve also got a soft spot for So Merrily We’ll Sing. It’s so self-indulgent it feels silly saying ‘it was so easy to write!’ but I guess having a fic that’s already just 100% headcaonons and fluff tied together by a song you really love does prevent it from being much of a labor (I also managed to refrain from making that one unnecessarily long, so that’s another win there)

tagging @terryfphanatics and anyone else who wants to do it - sorry I’m bad at remembering whose tumblr goes with whose Ao3 account, but I really would be interested to read this if anyone else feels like answering them!

#oh boy that was long #sorry #also sorry if the 13 is really big for some reason #i dont know how it got that way so i dont know how to change it #it doesnt look like that when i edit the post only when i save it #not fic but fic talk

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precuredaily · 4 years

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Precure Day 204

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 Go Go! 06 - “King Donuts Awakens!” Date watched: 8 January 2021 Original air date: 9 March 2008 Screenshots Transformation Gallery Project info and master list of posts

mood

The character re-introduction arc reaches its epic conclusion and shows us where Rin has wound up after her moment of self-realization in the Y5 finale. It turns out, she wound up constantly tired. Relatable. Let’s dig in!

The Plot

Nozomi and Rin are on their way to Natts House to prepare for the grand re-opening. Rin is visibly very tired and confesses that she was up late the previous night.

images with sleepy auras

As they arrive at the store, they run into Syrup.... or more accurately, he runs into them, carrying an urgent letter from Milk. (Remember this, because Syrup sure doesn’t) However, just then, a brilliant light erupts from inside of Natts House, so they all rush in to see what’s happening. They find everyone gathered around a table with the Rose Pact in the middle, glowing, and then it opens up and King Donuts emerges, fully awake. Then he yells at everyone to stop staring at him.

blinded by the light...... how does that song go again?

After the opening, the gang tries to introduce themselves to King Donuts, but he assumes it’s another Eternal trap until Coco and Nuts reveal themselves. Instead of being relieved, however, he just pivots his anger onto them for being incompetent and letting him get attacked by Eternal. So yeah, not off to a great start here. While they watch the goings-on, Rin yawns, and this further annoys the already irate king. Growing frustrated, he tries to leave, but finds that there’s a barrier around the Rose Pact that’s trapping him until he fully recovers. As you may imagine, this does wonders for his good mood.

I’m not yawning because I’m bored, I’m yawning because I’m bored AND tired.

Cut to Eternal’s headquarters and a very fatigued Scorp drops a huge report on Anacondy’s desk, mentioning he hasn’t slept for six days while writing it. However, she dings him on numerous minor errors, deeming it unusable, and tells him to combine it with the previous report and redo it. Exhausted and holding a stack of paper half his height, Scorp collapses and the pages fly everywhere. I have to say, Koyasu acting tired is a fun change of pace for him.

these are the eyes of a man who has lost all hope

Back at Natts House, everyone is still trying to appease King Donuts. He insists he’s fine already but in attempting to demonstrate this, he wears himself out quickly. Karen offers him the apple she snapped a few episodes ago, but he refuses to eat it because he doesn’t trust them. The girls give up on him for now, because they need to get to work opening up the store, but they notice Rin has fallen asleep.

Nozomi advises them to just leave her be, trying to get Syrup to help them pass out fliers instead. He refuses and wants to know why they don’t wake Rin. Nozomi explains that Rin was busy all day with sports clubs, tending to the family shop, and watching her siblings, so she stayed up all night designing accessories because it was the only free time she had. (I am very familiar with this concept.) She also admits that Rin didn’t tell her this, she deduced it because she knows Rin and how she works.

With that settled, the remaining girls, as well as Coco and Nuts, get to work handing out fliers. Syrup, however, stays behind to look over Rin, because he refused to help any other way. He muses over his situation.

At that moment, Rin wakes up, and Syrup asks if she really was up all night designing jewelry. She realizes her old friend Nozomi has read her like a book. She admits to feeling guilty that she not only stayed up late working, but she couldn’t come up with any ideas, and now she’s missed out on handing out fliers as well. She feels useless (big oof) and contrasts herself with Syrup, who she says is working hard to get to the Cure Rose Garden. Syrup disagrees and insists she works way harder than him. At this point, King Donuts, who has been listening in, interjects and commends Rin for being critical and analytical of herself, saying it’s the key to self growth. I feel like there’s a missing line in here about not slipping too far into self-doubt, but regardless, Rin remembers she’s supposed to be at futsal practice and runs off before the end of the King’s speech.

“Gah!” - Natsuki Rin, 2008

After she’s gone, the king and Syrup discuss how hardworking she is, along with the other girls. Also there’s a gag where King Donuts didn’t recognize Syrup until he turned back into his fairy form which further establishes that Syrup has a bit of a negative reputation far and wide.

Meanwhile, at the practice field, Rin isn’t doing a whole lot better at futsal than she was at jewelry design. As a result of staying up late, she’s still tired, so she’s missing passes or overshooting goals. She even accidentally kicks the ball over the fence and into the woods, so she goes to retrieve it while yawning some more.

It’s here that she is confronted by an equally sleepy Scorp, who asks her to hand over the Rose Pact so he won’t have to write up his report, and he can sleep. It’s kind of pathetic, kind of comical.

Scorp turns the futsal ball into a hoshiina, so Rin transforms as well. Syrup swoops in to save her from Scorp but drops the Rose Pact, so King Donuts tries to talk down the villain. However, Scorp is undeterred and even sees more value in having one of the monarchs inside the Rose Pact. The other girls show up and transform, temporarily distracting Scorp (as well as the king, who is surprised that they’re the legendary warriors) but he then continues his advance until Rouge punches him away. Then she hears Lemonade screaming as the Hoshiina tries to fling her off, so Rouge rushes in to kick it and rescue her friend. Scorp once again tries to capture the Rose Pact, so Rouge separates from the team again to protect the fairies, but Scorp captures her instead and taunts her about trying too hard to do too much by herself and says she’ll only ever be halfway finished. This hits Rin at her core and she is unable to resist an attack from the Hoshiina, but at the last moment her teammates jump in front of her to defend her. They remind her that she’s not alone, they’re there to help her, and then Dream gives an inspiring speech about how Rin always challenges her situation and works harder than others, so they’ll always support her. Scorp is unimpressed, but Dream rushes him with a Shooting Star. Feeling newly motivated, Rin also performs her new finisher on the Hoshiina: Fire Strike! She summons a fireball at her feet and then kicks it into the monster, which of course dissolves back into a normal futsal ball. Scorp flees, muttering about how he’ll have to include this in his report as well.

As the dust settles, King Donuts admires the Precures, and then has a seemingly random realization about the Rose Pact and the Red and Blue roses, or rather, the lack of blue rose. In case you had forgotten that plot point.

the answer will surprise you

Back at Natts House, King Donuts opens up a bit more to the girls and they chat back. However, he quickly reiterates that he doesn’t acknowledge Coco and Nuts as rulers yet. When they ask Syrup to help them with the shop, he reminds them that he’s only here to deliver a letter from Milk, and he finally hands it over to Coco. (took him long enough) It turns out the letter says there’s an emergency in Palmier Kingdom and everyone needs to come there quickly! They want to go but aren’t certain how.... until they remember Syrup has the convenient ability to travel between worlds. He initially refuses, but King Donuts cleverly appeals to both his pride and his kind-heartedness, causing him to think about the conviction all the girls have shown in their solo outings thus far, and he agrees to take them. So just as quickly as it opened, Natts House is closed again and the gang boards Syrup to fly to the Palmier Kingdom. As they rise into the air, they soar forwards into a watercolor warphole, surrounded by floating lights. They fade to white and the credits start.

The Analysis

Something I truly appreciate about this episode is that it picks up from the first series finale, and shows that Rin hasn’t magically become a top tier accessory designer, she still has moments of artist’s block, and she really struggles with just finding time to create, which impacts her social responsibilities. (sounds familiar) Rin’s struggle is a recurring theme, and I'm always glad that unlike certain later shows, they don’t glamorize her sacrificing sleep, they just portray it as something people sometimes do even if it’s not in their best interests. Contrast with that episode of Go Princess, you know the one. It’s a straightforward cause and effect: Rin stays up late designing, so she’s tired the next day, and that influences her interactions.

It has some positive responses, such as getting King Donuts to recognize how hardworking she is and swaying his opinion on the girls; and some negative impacts, like kicking the futsal ball too hard and over the fence. With all that said, I must once again remind you all not to sacrifice your well-being for your goals, even if I’m bad at following my own advice.

King Donuts (or Doughnuts if you prefer) is an interesting character. At first he’s paranoid that he’s in another Nightmare trap, but as he grows to accept his circumstances he warms up a bit, especially when he hears about how hard Rin is working. He remains critical of Coco and Nuts, understandably so, since their negligence led to him being attacked previously. However, he doesn’t dislike them, he is sharp-tongued because he wants to make them better kings. Physically he resembles a diminutive dragon. It’s not the most apparent visual but when all four Rulers are together the pattern begins to become obvious. More on that ~eventually~.

although they’re all in the OP so, ya know, clues

A secondary theme throughout this arc has been to show Syrup starting to acclimate to the girls and begin appreciating their hard work and way of doing things. He’s still stubborn and wants to do his own thing, but it takes less arm twisting to get him to go along with the girls’ requests. Usually. As he admits to King Donuts, he respects their work ethic and their devotion to the causes they love. He entered the picture as a loner delivery boy who just wanted to do his job, but getting roped in with the Precures’ misadventures has opened his eyes somewhat. He’s going to be fun to watch as the show continues. However, he has a reputation, as we’ve seen. We don’t know exactly what the details are but several characters seem to have a low opinion of him, and we’ll find out more about that in coming episodes.

The fight in this episode is interesting in how..... not interesting it is. It kind of fools you into thinking more is happening than actually is. There’s a lot of talking and not as much action as you would expect. The Cures and Scorp or the Hoshiina will exchange a few blows and get thrown around, then one of them starts lecturing the other side about their beliefs. Sure, all Precure shows have elements of this, I can remember a few other fights that were more talk than combat, but it seems particularly egregious this episode. I do like how Scorp’s mocking has an effect on Rouge though. She’s already feeling really unaccomplished and then he goes and tells her she’s useless without her friends. It starts to weigh on her heart, but her friends quickly step in and say hey, we love Rin, she has us to support her, it’s okay if she can’t do it all by herself. As a result of this quick pep talk, she unleashes Fire Strike, her new finisher, and boy does THAT shine. It’s the first soccer-themed Precure attack in the series, and more will follow in subsequent years.

Compared to some of the other finishers, Fire Strike is more straightforward. Rouge creates a ball of fire and kicks it directly into the Hoshiina. It’s less over the top than her teammates attacks (flying into the enemy, twin whips, flying discs, or an arrow made of water) but the animators manage to punch it up a bit with some suitably dramatic effects that sell how fast, hard, and powerful this kick is. Also I have to say, the shot of Rouge bringing her leg all the way back to ready the kick is really cool.

Her leg is cocked and extends past her head. If you’ve ever tried this you know it’s hard, so even if you can make a drawing do anything, it still looks impressive, and the next shot where she’s kicked it is gorgeous. The flame walls, the way she’s lifted slightly off the ground, the way the ball is warped, all convey a sense of power and motion. Yeah, she’s just kicking it straight ahead, but you get the sense she could kick it through a brick wall.

I do have to say, on the negative side, the framing device of the episode feels a little forced. If this letter from Milk was so important, Syrup probably should have pushed it on the girls a little sooner. Maybe just dropped it off with Nozomi when he first met her in the morning. They still could have seen King Donuts awakening but they would have made moves to go straight to the Palmier Kingdom instead of doing all that work advertising and opening the shop only to have to close it again right away, and skipping Rin’s moral quandary. Since those are at the root of the episode, it might be hard to cut them, so alternatively, to keep them, the episode could have been written such that Syrup could have received the letter at the end, so he wasn’t holding onto such an important and urgent letter all episode long. It’s the little things. And on that topic, I find the third act (fourth act?) after the fight to be a little too goofy. Syrup finally hands over the letter, then they all hem and haw about how they’re going to get to Palmier Kingdom and they beg and plead Syrup to do it until he finally agrees. The only truly funny part to me is Nuts lamenting that he has to close Natts House after he just opened it.

Also there’s this ending sequence.

vimeo

This is the single worst thing I have ever made in the name of this project.

It’s overall a well-thought out episode and it smartly moves between story elements, smoothly concluding the character reintroductions and setting up the Blue Rose arc that follows. I appreciate how seemingly unconnected events flow into each other and they lead to the King seeing that the girls are legitimately good people. It’s probably the most cohesive episode of this arc, although I still think the character reintroductions peaked with Urara’s. The others have been good in different ways, but there’s a deeper bit of heartfelt emotion that episodes 2, 3, 5, and 6 just haven’t been able to match.

Next time, Milk’s emergency turns out to be largely imagined, and we meet a new villain. Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 1 kettei!

#Precure #Pretty Cure #Yes! Precure 5 Go Go!#YPC5GG06 #PCD204

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

Communication Issues (AT:TTSIMBCMEOAYSFIL)- Chapter Three

Ao3, MasterPost, Chap.1, Chap.2

Relationships: Eventual Romantic Analogince, Romantic Prinxiety, implied background Moceit

Warnings: Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Self-isolation, Arguments, Unintentional Emotional Repression, Body Horror (in the form of Remus being Remus!), swearing, some small descriptions of pain, self-deprecations. There’s some fluff in the middle cuz I’m not pure evil, but this is pretty angsty :3 (I promise it’ll have a happy ending u just gotta wait ok). Remus uses it/its here, and is also aromantic.

Word Count: 8,167

Now, dramatism isn’t one of your functions, so you like to think that you’re being entirely reasonable when you say that you’d rather die than inform your closest friends that you’ve grown to love them a bit more than platonically.

And yet, here they are. Sitting on your couch, in your cluttered room, staring up at you with expectation in their eyes. They’re waiting, Logan. You didn’t actually expect to avoid this forever, did you?

Maybe you did, but it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been wrong.

But you digress: you owe them the explanation they came here for. And as you open your mouth to speak, your voice is not nearly as measured as you’d like it to be.

“As I said before, It was never my intention for you to think I did not want to see you- that is to say, it simply wasn’t feasible, given- well- there were certain complications, you see…”

Virgil narrows his eyes, bemusedly, from his contorted position across the arm and top cushion of your couch.

“What kind of complications?”

You look at the carpet, but it doesn’t offer much visual stimuli. You look up at the ceiling, but the angle makes your neck ache. You settle your eyes on your bookshelf instead, studying the multi-colored covers of novels that span the length of the entire opposite wall.

“...Complicated ones.”

Virgil snorts, a sound that usually has you thinking about just how adorable he can be, but the sound is devoid of humor in its current form.

“Care to elaborate, Teach?” Roman inquires, his legs folded comfortably under himself as he watches you. He’s managed to keep himself pretty still and quiet, though you aren’t sure if that’s attributed to his current restraint or the effects of your room.

You push your glasses up on your nose. They fall back to their original position. You repeat this action almost compulsively.

“It’s foolish- Very foolish. I know this is somewhat hypocritical of me, but I believe it is for the best that I do not burden you with it.”

“You aren’t a burden!” Roman squawks indignantly, in conjunction with Virgil snipping: “We’re well past that, buddy.”

You feel your face heat, embarrassingly enough. You aren’t sure why, but their instant and vehement defensiveness for you is a bit motivating. They… they won’t hate you for it. They might even understand, if you’re willing to be optimistic about this.

“You could call it. Jealousy, I suppose.”

“Jealousy?” Roman scrunches his nose, uncomprehending.

“Yes- I know it isn’t exactly fair of me to feel this way, but it’s the unfortunate truth. I have noticed that the two of you have become much… closer, than you once were,” you see the two of them flush in embarrassment, which only serves to prove your point. “Rest assured, I’m very happy for the both of you and your bond. It’s just that I’ve realized that I have become essentially irrelevant, which I find to be… upsetting. And I know you both are far too kind and non-communicative to outright tell me this, thus I decided that I would take matters into my own hands by giving the two of you your much-needed space willingly.”

You do not add that you’re also avoiding them because you can barely stomach being around their PDA. It seems unnecessary, and maybe a tad pathetic.

Virgil recovers from his embarrassment at your calling him out quickly enough, his abashment being engulfed by indignation. Oh, wonderful. They really can’t let up without a fight.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His anger is clear, but all three of you know that he’s only upset at the situation.

“I would love to remain as your friends, of course, I only meant that it would be best if I didn’t interrupt you two-”

“Interrupt us?!” He’s very near shouting, leaping up from his seat and stalking towards you. He stops less than a foot away, and you try desperately not to recoil from him.

“Yes,” you sound meek, don’t you? “It only made sense-”

He stares at you as though you’re an idiot. It’s a despicable look, but when you turn your attention to Roman for a reprieve, his expression is no different.

And then they- oh, what they do next brings you more pain than any expression ever could. It starts quiet, like they’re trying to hold it at bay, but their resolves crack and crumble.

They laugh. They’re laughing at you.

You shouldn’t have let them in- not into your room, not into your head, not into your life at all. You should have known that when your genuine emotions came to light, they’d only find it humorous in the end. Because you, Logan- Logic, your ‘feelings’- they’re hilarious. They are nonsensical and hardly befitting a being such as yourself, yet you have them! And you actually began to speak about them! What a comedic situation. You’re a fool in every sense of the word- both a jester and an idiot.

They aren’t even laughing that hard, but to you each small sound reads as a raucous, villainous cackle that tears apart your skin and leaves you raw. Roman’s head is tipped back and he appears to be shaking with amusement; Virgil is trying to press his lips together and stifle his chuckling, but he’s doing a poor job of it.

Something writhes in you, much uglier than your shame or guilt. It squirms beneath the layers of your skin and runs up and down your spine, tensing your muscles with its electricity. It’s fury, burning nearly as bright as your face surely must be with this humiliation.

How could they, tricking you into caring for them, convincing you to help them and support them, only to then heckle you when you hand them your trust. It was such a fragile thing already- which you know is preposterous, trust isn’t tangible, but in this moment it feels quite like a cracked window finally shattering to useless shards.

“Out.”

Virgil is startled into silence immediately; Roman makes a strangled sort of sound as he stops laughing.

“What?” They chorus, both looking ready to contradict you with drawn out and over-emotional arguments.

You won’t give them that satisfaction.

“Get. Out. Of my. Room,” your shaking speech is blanketed in monotone; it’s like a towel thrown over a forest fire; it won’t last long.

Their eyes widen comically. They speak all over each other, clamoring to explain or excuse their actions, but to you the pleading is naught but white noise.

You gave them a chance to leave of their own volition, but if they’re so keen on remaining a nuisance, then fine. You huff a sigh, turning your back to Roman and Virgil. With a snap, their chatter cuts off unceremoniously, and you are left cold and lonely.

When you turn around, they’re gone.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

You don’t get a chance to react before you’re thrown upwards through the floor of your bedroom. You land in an unceremonious heap, half-on and half-off of your bed, losing your balance almost immediately and toppling to the floor. Rising up makes you dizzy enough as it is, but being forced away from somewhere makes you want to vomit.

You pull yourself up from the ground, holding your head in your hands until the world stops spinning. As soon as your brain gets working again, you can hear thunderous footfalls out in the hall. They stomp right past your door and down the hall. There’s a series of loud thumps, rattles, and shouts, before whoever it is retraces their steps.

You walk to your door as if on autopilot, opening it just as Roman was about to knock. He’s panting, distressed.

“We fucked up,” he says.

“Yeah,” you pull him inside, slamming the door behind him, “We did.”

“I didn’t mean to, you know that right? I wasn’t laughing at him, I wouldn’t, alright?” Roman spirals, “He thinks I did! It was just ridiculous, was all! To think that we don’t want him around- to think-”

He curls into himself. You catch his hand before he can press it against his chest, unfolding him. You hold his wrist and rub little patterns into the back of his hand.

“Ro, hey.”

He glances up at you, wild-eyed. Eyeshadow is already creeping its way down his face.

“Why don’t we talk about this in your room instead, hm?”

He nods, shaking, with a small mutter of ‘right, right’. You nod back, holding onto him just tight enough that your claws don’t quite dig in.

You materialize in Roman’s room, dragging him along with you. Almost immediately a fierce pulse of energy overwhelms you. You stagger in shock, but Roman doesn’t even blink at the force. He pulls away from you and falls upon his massive, plush, circular canopy bed with a despairing whine. You can’t really blame him.

The Creative power of this room takes its effects on you faster than any other side’s abilities could- you really wonder how Roman is so used to it. You sit on the bed beside him, intending to comfort him as he buries himself further into his hoard of pillows. But then, you can’t. You can’t sit down. Far too much troubled excitement is pooling in your stomach; far too many ideas and thoughts are running through your head, and the loudest of them are desperate appeals to start fixing this mess.

Anxiety and Creativity wouldn’t theoretically mix well, but that’s just the thing about theories. They’re often wrong, so very wrong or crackpot or conspiratorial. The truth of it is Creativity and Anxiety work together wonderfully, both as concepts and as actual, metaphysical creatures. You’ve known this, even if you won’t admit it, since you were all teenagers. But only now does it hit you just how much Roman’s abilities can do for you. It takes all of your energy, all that pent-up fear and frustration from what’s just happened, and it gives you the tools to actually use it for something.

It also makes you, ya know. Just a little recklessly confident.

“Alright, Princey, get up.”

He whines again, shifting his head just enough to glare at you.

“I’m wallowing in self-pity! For the reason that one of my dearest friends thinks me a- a bully! How are you not freaking out about this?”

“Honestly?” You wrap your hands around his wrist again, pulling him into a ragdoll-ish sitting position, “I’ve got no idea. Mentally I think I’m in the fifth dimension or some shit, so we gotta work this out quick before I come back down and really lose my mind.”

He grumbles, but you see him biting back an amused smile. Flopping his legs over the edge of the bed and making no movement to stand, Roman narrows his eyes up at you.

“Alright, alright. We need to give that conversation another go, I know that, but we should give Logan some space first. He’s unlikely to hear us out now. You know how headstrong he is when he gets… like this.”

You nod, vacantly, because you're already three steps ahead of where he is in the conversation.

“Yeah, good point. More time.”

“Right,” Roman draws the word out, looking at you strangely, “So why aren’t you moping with me?”

You pull the reins of your practically palpable energy enough to sit down, right next to him.

“We obviously have to work out this-” you gesture between yourself and Roman, “-before we can really talk to Logan,” once the sentence is out of your mouth you wish you could swallow back the ‘obviously’, because Roman is usually slow on the uptake and you’d never intentionally make fun of that. But he does nothing more than scrunch his face up in exaggerated confusion, the pink tint to his face giving away that he must have at least some idea what you’re implying.

“What- what do you mean by that? The two of us already get along famously!”

“I think you know that’s not what I meant. You’re using your stage voice. You always do that when you lie.”

“Who are you- Janus?” He cough-laughs awkwardly, breaking eye-contact with you. You’re surprised that you’re holding up any better than him, but your strongest reaction at the moment is a mild blush and some prickling at your skin.

It is for these reasons that you both love and hate Creative-Mode Virgil. He is a very productive and efficient version of you, but his propensity for acting bold and impulsive makes you want to strangle him. Him being you, of course.

“Look, Logan was wrong to think that he was a third wheel, or whatever, but I’m pretty sure he was right about the… closeness with us, I guess.”

Roman’s staring at you with wide eyes, a deep red flushing him from his ears right across his nose and cheeks. He’s clearly trying to smile, but it’s coming out awkwardly strained, almost twisted sideways. There’s a second when the anxiety rushes back to you in a wave of oh no you misread this so fucking bad of course he doesn’t feel that way about you you’re his best friend whatthehellwereyouthinkingVirgil- and it almost wins you over, but you’re in Roman’s Room. And that doesn’t just mean motivation and creativity.

Your paranoid thoughts could never beat what’s ingrained into you as a fact. You can feel the romantic tension, almost like it’s a physical presence in the room. Maybe it is. A part of you- most of you, in fact- still wants to convince you that you’re doing something wrong. But it’s getting harder and harder to believe the longer you sit here, knowing that these emotions you feel aren't entirely your own.

“Virgil,” he breathes, and you can feel it on your skin- when did you get so close?

“We don’t have to do anything about this,” you start to backpedal, but you don’t move away from him, “Not if you don’t want to, yet. I just… we had to talk about it, I think.”

“So you…?”

The hesitance in his voice destroys your resolve. You reach out, tucking up both of his hands in your own.

They’re warm.

“Yeah, I- yeah.”

He surveys you for far too long; it’s hard not to squirm. You let him watch you, though, just so he can find whatever it is he’s looking for in your expression. When he does, it only draws him in nearer.

“You and Logan are right. I love you, V.”

You try not to smile. It doesn’t work.

“I figured.”

He huffs at you, shoving you, but he’s grinning widely. You roll your eyes at him. You don’t speak for a while, holding your tongue for as long as you can- but you really need to say it. Just so he knows.

“I love you back, though. Or- something like that, I don’t know…”

Roman laughs outright at that, tossing his head back. You can already feel the energy you were given twisting into an entirely contradictory exhaustion. Because of that, you don’t even try to pretend to be annoyed; you just watch, fondly.

When he’s settled, that amused look turns sharply to worry.

“So now what?”

You pause, running your thumb over his knuckles as you think the question over.

“Logan?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, like you said, we give him some space.”

“And then?”

You glance up at Roman for confirmation, but you don’t need to. Like you said, you can feel it; his room is a pretty big snitch.

“We tell him we love him.”

You let yourself forget about what happened, just for the afternoon. It’s hard, but what choice do you have? It’s out of your hands for now. And, while usually that makes you even more nervous, you manage to force yourself into the shape of something vaguely undaunted. After all, if you can’t tell Logan just how much you care about him, you can still remind Roman.

In your own way, of course.

“Hey,” you mutter, for what must be the millionth time that evening. Roman turns his attention away from the vent-art he’s working on, glancing at you.

“Yes, Knightmare?” He asks, but the tired and affectionate smile on his face says that he already knows your game. Damn, and here you were thinking you were subtle. (not.)

“Mmh,” you press your face into the side of his neck, leaving a few miniscule kisses to the skin there. Your arms are twined around his waist, a position that bordered on- oh, who are you kidding, it’s exceptionally clingy.

The embarrassment that you feel from so openly displaying such sappy, disgusting affection is overturned, however slightly, by the quiet laugh and kiss to the top of your head that Roman returns to you for your efforts. You hide your smile in the crook of his neck.

You continue to shower Roman with attention for a minute or so, covering his face with little pecks and pressing yourself against him, before leaning back a few inches. You sigh. He resumes his work, resting his back against your chest as he does so.

You will let him continue to draw for ten or so minutes. You will ask for his attention again, and he’ll give it to you with a slightly wider smile than the last time you did it- that smile grows exponentially, but only by tiny increments.

You’ll kiss him all up his neck and the side of his face, hug him even tighter, listening to him laugh in a much too relieved voice before you let up once more.

And he’ll be a little more sure of you each time. A little more sure that you two can do this together.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

You are not a patient entity when it comes to the things you want. You are, in the best of cases, the exact opposite. This gets about One Million Billion times worse when the one thing that you want is to declare your love for someone, and said someone hasn’t left his room even once in six days.

Virgil, Patton, and Janus (once you’d relayed the situation to the latter two) have essentially been keeping you on a leash at all times of the day- or night- to make absolutely sure that you don’t break Logan’s door down. Which- to be fair- you wouldn’t put it past yourself to do that, but still.

But even with the distraction of a new boyfriend (boyfriend!!!!) and those two overbearingly caring friends of yours, you are still Physically Unable to Not Do Anything currently. And, you suppose if you can’t break Logan’s door down, you might as well try that idea out on someone who wouldn’t bat an eye at such an, ah, intrusion seems to be the fitting word.

“Uurghhhhh!”

You drop yourself face first onto Remus’ bed in your usual melodramatic fashion, immediately regretting it because fuck that smells horrid. When was the last time it washed its sheets?

Probably never, actually. You sit up.

Your sibling is sitting cross-legged on its desk, working on something that’s got a good deal of goop and limbs. It looks up at you blankly.

“Ro? What the hell are you doing in here?” It doesn’t sound angry, just very, very surprised.

“My life is ending.”

“Fun! Does that mean I get full creative control?”

“No! And it’s not fun, you animal!”

It scrutinizes you, setting its strange arthropodic creation down on the desk. You lean back when it leans forwards.

“Wow, shit must be really bad if you’ve decided to come here!”

You nod, miserably.

“Okay,” it claps its hands together, standing up only to fall against the bed beside you. It’s half-sitting, half-laying; the way it twists all its limbs up can not be comfortable. “What’s going on?”

You glare at it, but you aren’t sure why. Probably just because it is there and you need something to glare at while you talk.

“It’s Logan…” You trail off, waiting for Remus to catch on. It takes its time thinking, even more expressionless than before.

“You know why he hasn’t left his room in days? I tried to check on him but he barely told me anything. Just said he was tired, and ‘thanks for the concern’,” it says at last, catching you off-guard.

“You mean you haven’t heard? I would’ve thought Patton or Janus might have told you.”

It taps its claw to its chin a couple of times, thoughtful. The implication clicks just a second later, apparently, because it lets out a whining groan and drags its hands down its face.

“Oh, not that. I can’t do anything if it’s that!” It exclaims, “Yeah, they did mention it, but I guess I just tune that kind of thing out,” it pauses, “...It’s because you and Vee are fucking now, right?”

You flush, embarrassment and indignation welling up at the back of your throat. You bat Remus’ shoulder, bristly as a thornbush.

“No, we aren’t- I mean, not yet- I mean, that’s none of your business!”

“You did kinda come to me for help, though, so it actually is.”

You glower, refusing to justify that with a response. It rolls its eyes at you, turning over so that it’s flat on its back with its upper half hanging off the bed.

“It’s your bad to come to me for romance advice. You couldn’t have asked literally anyone else- yourself, for example?” It fusses with its talons as it rants, snapping off a couple of nails absentmindedly, “It’s not even the fun kind of gross.”

You can’t believe you’re considering saying it. You won’t! You shouldn’t! You refuse!

“...Please?” Oh fuck, you’ve done it now.

Remus pulls its head up slightly, a very smug grin across its face. Its teeth are horrendously crooked and yellow-stained, looking much too big and sharp to fit into its mouth.

“Awww, you’re begging? God, you’re so desperate.”

It’s very difficult to resist the urge to push it off the bed. But you are a pillar of restraint today, because it’s not entirely wrong about that, and you still need it to help you.

“Look, it’s too personal to my own life for my abilities to do me any good. And Virgil can’t talk about it- he’s way too frazzled to even think about it, the poor thing. Plus, Patton and Janus aren’t… great… at things,” that’s a very soft way of putting: the former gets much too emotionally invested and the latter is entirely snarky and unhelpful. “So I came here. I think a more, erm, detached point of view could help.”

Remus hums at that.

“I guess there’s nothing more detached from romantic issues than someone who’s never had any- you’ve come to the right place in that case.”

“So you’ll help?”

Remus slides slowly forward until it’s landing in a heap on the ground, various crunching noises resulting from the impact. It huffs, lifts itself up to rest its chin on the edge of the bed, and stares at you unblinkingly.

“You’re not allowed to tangent about how pretty his eyes are or how much you love his voice, or anything like that, got it? Otherwise, I will puke, and probably into your mouth just to shut you up.”

You gag, perhaps a bit exaggeratedly.

“That’s vile!”

“Thank you! Now, bitch to me about your problems before I get bored.”

You look down to your lap, winding and unwinding your fingers repetitiously. You think about the past couple of days; in many aspects, it’s been wonderful. Virgil actually wants to be your boyfriend! And that’s what he is now! Of course, you both are just as cuddly as ever, but now you don’t have to worry about holding back. That’s been an amazing relief.

But there’s always that little thing missing, holding you back from being content completely. You want to give Logan his space, truly you do, but every day you feel a little more distant from him. A little further from being able to fix things. It’s familiar in all the worst ways.

You blink rapidly, remembering where you are before the emotions overcome you. With a shaky breath, you begin to speak. It’s just a summary at first, but then you can’t help but give Remus your most detailed accounts of, well, everything.

You gauge its reaction intensely, but it’s as inscrutable as ever. You finish the tale hurriedly, expectant for some sort of response from the creature across from you.

There is an intolerable silence as you practically see the gears turning in Remus’ brain, which is funny because you thought Octopuses were supposed to have nine of them. You have no idea what it’s using all the other ones for, if that’s the case.

“You laughed at him,” it smirks when it speaks, sounding out the words slowly. You scoff.

“We were laughing at the situation! We didn’t mean it to seem that way. It was just bad timing! ”

It cackles at you, sitting back on its legs and tossing its head back. It sounds like a shrieking kettle.

“No wonder he’s so pissed! He thinks you think his feelings are a joke! His whole deal is not wanting to be that. That’s, like, his big thing.”

You’d… sort of figured that’s what happened, but hearing it out loud still stings. To think you’d done that to him. He was getting so much better with his feelings, but you had to go and ruin it.

“I already know that I- we-” mental filtering, Roman, “We caused the issue. I wanted to know how to fix it.”

Remus stops laughing as suddenly as it’d started, looking at you with all the sincerity of, perhaps, someone capable of being serious.

“Corner him,” it answers simply.

“Excuse me?”

“Corner him. Your first mistake was that you went to him in his room, which meant he could just throw you out of there. He’s stubborn, right? Plus, he thinks you were making fun of him. He’s not gonna come out to have a civilized conversation on his own, cuz he’s a dumbass, so I don’t think more space is gonna help you out here. Lure him out! Tie him up, if it’ll make him listen!” Remus pauses thoughtfully, “Orrrrr you could try amputating his legs entirely, but he’ll probably grow them back. He’s annoying like that.”

You choose to ignore the last suggestion, focusing instead on its main point.

“Are you sure that won’t make things worse?”

“Define ‘worse’ for me, in terms of right now, currently, in here on this day.”

“Good point.”

Remus nods to itself, standing up from the floor and stretching its arms above its head. Its shoulders dislocate, but it pops them back into their sockets once its done. This almost feels like the conclusion of the conversation, but you get the impression that it’s taking its time to piece together a sentence with a little more finality.

“He was obviously crazy about you two before, which means he probably still is. He’s also a sad little shit, though.”

You move to stand as well, curling your fingers against themselves again.

“You really think so?”

“Oh, I have no idea. That’s your department, remember? Now, get out of my room; no alloromantics allowed after-” it checks the time, clearly making the rule up on the spot, “Five twenty-six P.M.”

“Fine, fine, I can take a hint,” you place your hands on your hips, feeling just a little more confident in the wake of this talk.

“‘Hint’? I explicitly told you to leave.”

You grumble at Remus, but make your way to the door nonetheless. It turns back to its desk, grabbing for a jar that seems to be filled with insect legs. It’s immediately refocused into whatever strange creatures it was working on, pulling them apart and shoving them back together. You let the affronted look fall from your face, replaced by a small, fond smile.

“Thanks, Re.”

It glances back at you, briefly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing…” it pauses, its hands stilling. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” you say, earnestly.

You leave, letting it get back to its work.

The hallway smells like a fucking Macy’s compared to Remus’ room. Jesus Christ, it’s a relief.

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning back against it with a deep, shuddering sigh. It’s been a long week.

Ah, and just on time, as if to prove your point, there’s a gravelly shout and a thump from downstairs. You draw yourself to attention, shaking the slump from your shoulders. You flit through the narrow hall to the top of the stairs, listening carefully for an issue to resolve or an unseemly beast to slay. A prince must protect his subjects, after all.

For a few seconds, all you can hear below is frantic whispering. You set a foot on the top step, but you don’t get the chance to descend.

Virgil is there like a flash of lightning, speeding up the stairs and heading right for you.

You startle, spiraling back to escape his path, but it’s futile. He catches you at the top, sending you both crashing into the opposite wall. Pain shoots up your back at the impact, as well as sparking in your shoulders where his claws are gripping you. You hiss, the sound dying when you meet his eyes.

They’re bright. No, glowing. No, seeping- their color is seeping into the world around them, curling in little streaks of murky green and violet around Virgil’s face.

He speaks, but it’s without distortion. It’s clear and crisp. It isn’t quite anxiety that’s consuming him this way, no, it’s something much more powerful.

“Roman,” he takes your hand in a fervent grip, “Ro, it’s Logan.”

You blink, and before you really know what you’re doing, you're already halfway downstairs.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>

Light, sparse taps are turned out against the solid wood door. The sounds, however small, echo throughout this packed little room.

Your fingers stall above the laptop’s keyboard, and for a fraction of a second frustration overcomes you. It’s gone as soon as it comes, replaced unceremoniously by numbness. This is a minor inconvenience to your work, but not much else. Thankfully, you are not one to dwell on it; after all this time, you are finally in complete control of your faculties and your emotions.

The knock returns, more sure of itself as it hits against the surface. Bemusedly, you wonder why on earth they’re still bothering- but, that isn’t them, it belatedly occurs to you. The rhythm isn’t that of some showtune or another, nor is it harsh and pounding.

You aren’t sure how many days it’s been since you’ve heard that particular sound. You aren’t sure… What day is it?

Well, regardless, you’ve been jarred from your work. You could ignore it and continue on- you’d likely forget it soon enough- but the fact that you recognize the presence specifically as Patton stops that idea in its tracks. He’s sensitive, an overthinker to an extreme degree. He could entirely misconstrue it as a dislike of his company if you were to not respond, unlike a flippant Remus or a collected Janus. And, well…

You’re over it. You’ve been over what Roman and Virgil did to you. But even though you very much are, it’s still perfectly reasonable to not want to be near them. There would be nothing to gain from talking to them, and you’d like to spare yourself the headache. But, you digress; Patton was not a part of what transpired. He would not do that to you, and therefore he is not an impediment to your work. Looking at it rationally, he is in fact a great source of comfo- help, for you.

With this in mind you stand, making your way across the room. You stagger when you walk, like something’s pulling you in different directions. Odd. The feeling is somewhere in your head, sinking down your vertebrae, insisting that you need to remain in the sanctity of your room. If you leave, the pull suggests, then all your carefully built clarity of mind should become disrupted. How strange for such a convincing conviction to be so seemingly baseless, you reflect.

The knock returns, and that is of course a much more pressing issue. There’s a pull coming from there as well, only one much fiercer and easier to place. It’s the strongest thing you’ve experienced in some time, like someone’s arm around your waist, guiding you forwards (even if there isn’t anyone there, really).

“Good afternoon,” you intone, drawing the door open with excessive force. Strange, again; maybe you had just forgotten how heavy it was.

Patton stands across from you, shock written across his features with his fist still poised in the air, as though to knock again. He drops the hand quickly, reaching out instead with both arms while a grin consumes his face. But the limbs spasm concerningly, and stop. He sweeps his arms back and presses his balled hands tightly against his chest, still smiling at you, only a little more strained. His eyes are big, murky pools of color and emotion, raging and contradictory and impossible to make sense of. Even looking into them is overwhelming.

“Hi, buddy,” he says it so quietly, but the actual words don’t matter. He says it with force, like perhaps he’s localized every emotion he’s ever felt entirely into his tone of voice.

You blink at him, an undefined question on your lips before that pull behind you turns into a sharp push, and before you know it you’re slumping forward into the hallway and out of your room. As you’re forced out, you narrowly avoid hitting the carpet. That’s thanks to Patton, who rushes forwards with a yelp, hauling you up into his sturdy arms with very little effort.

The confusion you’d felt leaves you in a great big rush, replaced by fire. Your skin is consumed by burns at your friend’s touch- or at least it feels that way, but logically it cannot possibly be actual flame- but fuck logic because you’re on fucking fire.

It’s an all-consuming heat, but that’s hardly all it is. It’s breathing. Like you’d been holding your breath to the point of mad deliria and only now are you gasping in great, relieved breaths of clear air as some great and stifling weight is lifted from your lungs. It also feels like moving from an ice bath to a sauna all too quickly, giving you the greatest relief in conjunction with horrific pain.

Oh. You’re crying.

“Shh,” Patton whispers, as though this isn’t anything out of the ordinary, “It’s okay, it’s alright.”

You hold onto him hesitantly. Are you sitting? You think you must be, judging from this position.

“Do you need me to let go? Is it too much?”

You open your mouth to speak, and your voice is in perfect, frightening monotone.

“Yes, please.”

Patton draws back gently, just far enough so that you’re not touching. Big, crocodile tears crawl down your face still, but they begin to die down after a moment. You get your breathing under control, even if just barely.

“I didn’t want you to fall and get hurt,” Patton explains, “But I realize that making you touch a living vessel for emotion might’ve hurt, too, after- well, after that,” he gestures vaguely to your room, and then to yourself. You tilt your head in confusion.

“What-?” You look down at your arms, and the question dies on your lips.

It’s lifeless; corpse-like. The cold, slate-gray painted up your arms and probably across your whole body. The color looks sucked out of you, leaving only emptiness in its wake. The only sign that you’re a living being and not a husk, a shell, a piece of shed skin- other than the tremble of your frame- is the shocks of electric blue running up your body. They could be veins, if not for the fact that the lines were perfectly straight and geometrically cornered.

Patton reaches out, pensively, and presses a cautious finger against the back of your hand. At his touch, the spot bursts into life like watercolor on wet paper. Lively, peachy skin with cool undertones appears, before fading back to gray as Patton removes his finger. And it stings.

You jump to your feet with a struggle, hardly registering when Patton follows your lead. You spin on your heel, staring through the open door and into your room. You can’t imagine entering it- just the feeling of being near it shortens your breath. It’s frigid, it’s hard and unshakeable and dark. It is completely and entirely devoid of emotion or life, and you hadn’t left that frozen hellscape in days.

It’s a wonder you can feel anything at all, after what you’ve done to yourself.

A shaking gasp rips out of your throat, and before you can think another panicked thought you jolt forward and wrench the door shut. You back away from it until your back hits the opposite wall.

“I- I didn’t realize I was doing it,” your words sound like pleas, falling from your mouth without your consent.

“I know,” Patton stands beside you, close enough to feel but not to burn.

“I didn’t mean to, I just-”

“I know.”

“I was doing better. I was doing so well, I was happy.”

He nods solemnly.

You’ve been aware of the existence of your emotions, and relatively accepting of it, for a good deal of time. Hypocrisy is unsustainable. You can’t very well preach the negatives of repression on a weekly basis and then go on to practice it indefinitely.

But what you are… everything that you encompass, everything that encompasses you, it makes it much too easy to slip up. To force out every pesky feeling in favor of more ‘important’ things. What it really is is a pitiful defense mechanism, unfortunately built deep into you by the purpose of your being. And it seems that your room can even do it without your knowledge.

“Logan?”

You look up, unsure if he can even see how miserable you are. Can you emote anymore? You try to frown, but your muscles are stuck like plastic.

“Why don’t we get you somewhere else and see if we can get some of the feeling back into ya, okay?”

You adjust your glasses once, then twice.

“Not your room, I would hope?”

“Oh, goodness,” he lets out a startled laugh, “Of course not, that would be way too much! I was thinking somewhere a little more, uhm, neutral?”

You perk up at that implication. You could just go to the common room, of course, but that’s hardly the only unaffected area in the Mindpalace. Your world isn’t quite real- and even if it is it’s extremely fluid and easy to influence- meaning you can make about just as many locations as any of you would like. Which includes structures ‘outside’ of your ‘house’.

An ill-defined existence like that might irk you, if you were in a philosophical mood. Thankfully, the only mood you’re in right now is sad.

“Yes, I think a change of setting could be beneficial.”

Patton chirps happily, much like a tree frog, and makes to lead you downstairs. You follow close behind him, chasing that emotional high but still nervous of the pain that it could cause you.

You’re on edge for reasons enough already. The idea that you could run into them is a prominent one that you’d rather not focus on.

For a split second you think you might have to, though, because there’s someone sitting on the couch when you step down from the landing. Your breath catches in your throat, but then he looks up at you, heterochromic eyes wide with surprise, and you exhale steadily.

“Hello, Janus.”

His eyebrows arch up at your greeting, perplexion in his smile. Appraisingly, he observes you, offering only a small wave. He addresses Patton when he speaks.

“Well, Dear, it seems you were right to be concerned about him.”

Patton mutters something that you can’t quite make out, looking disconcerted.

You’d be flushing indignantly, if you had the ability to. Your shoulders hunch up as you glance between your friends.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

They both look acutely uncomfortable, exchanging looks. That’s answer enough for you, though.

Oh, just look at yourself. You’re a spectacle now, aren’t you? Poor Logan, getting his metaphorical metaphysical heart broken, only for it to become the talk of the MindPalace for days on end as he relapses into repression. Isn’t it such a lovely thing for you to be? A piece of gossip. Entertainment.

Janus’ worry grows on his face, and soon he’s up from his spot and hastening towards you. You step back from him, trying to remember what glaring is meant to look like. He doesn’t invade your space again, but he just… stares at you.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks. You can almost laugh at the question.

“I’m sure you already know all about it, though, don’t you?”

Both of them are taken aback by your snapping. You regret it immediately; they haven’t done anything wrong, not really. They’re trying to help you, it isn’t their fault that they got caught up in your ‘tragic tale’. But your frustration is difficult to push down. You get the feeling that you can’t push anything down, without worrying that something will snap; it’s almost like an overworked muscle.

“Whatever you think has been happening out here,” Janus speaks, even and slow, “It’s not that bad, alright?”

Patton nods along with him, and reaches towards you. He falters, eventually opting to hook a finger through the band of your watch instead. Your skin prickles, but there’s no pain.

“C’mon, I was thinking we could try heading to the Clubhouse.”

That settles your anger, microscopically. You think Janus is being truthful, and Patton is nothing but consoling. And, of course, there’s the clubhouse…

You might not ever admit how much you like it. It’s been around since before you were around, back in the days of just Anxiety (the oldest), Creativities (tied for second), and a very newly formed Morality. Back when it was first made, it really was just a little child’s clubhouse, made primarily by Roman, with some disruptions by Remus, and small additions by a tiny Patton. It was probably the first neutral structure made up by the sides, as they had just begun to figure out their powers and the ‘world’ that they inhabited. Of course no one had the heart to get rid of it after that.

You give Patton a nod, angling your face so that it maybe looks like you’re smiling. He lets go of you, smiling back as he turns on his heel and heads for the door. You trail behind him, knowing that it must look very silly that you’re basically tailgating him. Janus follows you in turn, a few feet behind. He watches over the both of you protectively.

You step out onto the lawn, hearing grass crunch beneath your shoes. The wind is particularly biting, and the sky above threatens a storm. You’re sure that the weather in the real world isn’t this chaotic, so someone in the mindscape must be sulking. You don’t mind; it’ll only make the warmth of the Clubhouse all the more pleasant.

The Clubhouse has changed so much over the years that it’s unrecognizable as its original iteration. What once was a little stick-and-stone glorified fairy house is now a cottage-like building, one story high with a thickly thatched roof. Beside the door on either side are big bay windows, each made into little reading nooks. It’s essentially one big room, the outside painted with such vibrant pastels that it easily stands out against its surroundings.

The doors creak when Patton opens them, but not in a way that denotes damage or wear. It’s an old and comforting sound, one that comes from familiarity and consistent use. You step through the threshold, and affection floods your chest.

It isn’t large, but it’s well-equipped. There are ancient oaken tables stacked up with crafts materials, squashy bean bag chairs, and a bright rug or two thrown over the rustic hardwood floors. The nooks have pillows and blankets piled in them, looking like nests. There are bookshelves, art supplies, vinyl records (complete with a record player)- even some new-looking wall displays of preserved bugs and butterflies for decoration. To top it all off, fairy lights were strung across all the walls, making it all seem quite mystic.

You find yourself taking another step inwards; the amenities are incredibly inviting. Everything here is inviting, and homey, and lived-in. The house itself almost feels alive, nonsensical as that is.

It’s no wonder this is everyone’s favorite.

Patton watches you patiently, his hand resting on the door handle. You take a deep breath, but you aren’t sure why you need it. You make your way to the perfume-y, floral print sofa against the wall to your right, treating everything around you rather reverently. When you sit, you sink down into the couch.

Patton sits a respectful distance from you. Janus strolls right after him, knocking the door shut with the back of his boot before settling in an armchair on the left of the couch.

There’s a comfortable silence, and you start to feel your numbness abate. With a contented sigh, your head falls back against the cushion and your eyes fall shut. Not in an effort to sleep. You’re just… resting. You breathe deeply, letting the atmosphere envelop you.

The corners of your mouth twitch up.

“Logan!” Patton squeaks, “Look!”

Your eyes blink open, mildly startled at the outburst. Patton’s gaze on you is intense, first focused on your face and then moving down your arms. You follow the look, to see your...

Your perfectly normal, flesh-colored arms. Your human-ish, mildly tan, average arms. You feel what you can now recognize as a smile grow wider on your face.

“Well,” Janus chimes, “It seems you just needed a little break.”

“Maybe so,” your voice creaks from lack of use. You hadn’t even realized you’d been nonverbal since you’d last snapped at them. Neither had drawn attention to it, which you silently thank them for (they, after all, were all too familiar with the experience).

“Do you feel good enough to talk about what’s been upsetting you?” Patton gently asks you. And you… don’t have an answer.

“What is there to talk about?” You tilt your head bemusedly.

“I think he means, are you ready to talk to who’s been upsetting you?” Janus explains. Patton hesitates before nodding his agreement.

“I- what?” Your serenity leaves in a rush, replaced by astonishment and outrage, “You expect me to- to talk to them?”

You give them approximately three seconds to respond before plowing forwards with your rant.

“I’m talking to you both, isn’t that enough? You’ve done nothing to wrong me, of course. What does it matter if I don’t speak to those- those- those-”

Janus’ eyes expand to circles, the pupils shrinking to anxious slits.

“Those?” He prompts.

“Tricksters, betrayers, playactors, wolves- whatever you want to call them!” Where were vocab cards when you needed them? All your synonyms can’t carry the punch that you need them to. Insults aren’t much good if you have to explain them after.

“No!” Patton practically screams, out of absolutely nowhere. You glance at him, stunned, to see him looking like a kicked puppy- er, froggy. He’s on the verge of tears, leaning towards you precariously, with devastation swirling in his big eyes. “This is why you need to talk to them, please, Logan.”

You are so very bewildered, you barely notice that Janus is standing from his chair until he’s already across the room.

“As I said earlier: whatever you think happened, didn't. I can prove it, too,” he mutters, standing by the door.

“You weren't there, Janus,” you snap, "I tried to tell them how I felt and they- they laughed at me.”

“They didn't!” Patton squeaks. You shake your head frantically, still reeling.

“It was- it was awful, you can’t-”

“No,” Patton interrupts, “I meant that literally. They didn’t do that.”

This interaction is making your head spin with indignation. You are capable of immense patience when it comes to Patton- and Janus, for that matter- but this has become ridiculous.

“I’m so tired of being made a mockery of, Patton. I won’t stand for it any longer, even if you’re just trying to help.”

He breathes in sharply, about to argue, but then his gaze catches on something behind you. His mouth stays open, but he’s soundless. You jump to your feet, spinning around to see just what he’s looking at.

The door is open. Janus is gone.

There's a shout from the main house.

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @thefivecalls

(Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed :3)

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 5 years

Text

Return to Me - Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: The Galaxy Within Reach

A/N: Again, sorry it’s late! School is crazy. A few notes about this chapter: unfortunately, Poe is not shirtless in this chapter, but I thought his expression was perfect (and the gif isn’t too bad to look at either). I headcanon Poe as having a few tattoos, so that’s present in this chapter. I promise, this is (I think) the last time we see the pink dress again. Since we haven’t seen him in a while, I’ll add the link to Lin Ral’s faceclaim again. The speech Poe gives Black Squadron and the title are taken from the Poe comics, which again, you should all read if you love Poe. Umm, I think that’s it. Lemme know if you wanna be tagged and your feedback is welcome!

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 4,031 Synopsis: As the Resistance scrambles to find a place to go after Crait, the reader has to make the tough decision to reveal her connection with Count Lin Ral in order to save everyone aboard the Millennium Falcon. Both Poe and the reader take the first few steps to getting the Resistance back on track.

Tag List: @xeniarocks, @too-many-baes, @araceli91103, @holybatflapexpert, @themihala, @idocarealot, @treblebeth, @treestarrrrrrrr, @thescarletknight2014, @charlottie2998, @ibikus, @mellow-f1, @mrsdaamneron, @trustme3-13 @missjess71, @ella-solei, @minelskede, @gleigh42, @usuallyweepingnacho, @givemethatgold, @and-claudia, @constantdisgrace, @wordsinwinters, @readingvogueonprivetdrive, @trshbb, @kaitlynw011, @ihave2muchtimeonmyhands, @constantdisgrace, @fairytalesforever, @thanos-jeep, @mixedfandxms, @pastelbunny1501, @emotionalcal, @daniellajocelyn, @getyourselfaunicorn, @spider-starry, @jimhalpertcanbuymelove, @angelicaxhouston

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Just get away from Crait. That was the only instruction Leia had given Chewbacca as everyone boarded the Millennium Falcon. Together with Rey, they quickly jumped the ship into hyperspace and left behind Kylo Ren and the First Order on the red salt covered planet. But now that you all were far away from the First Order, you needed to have a more specific course in mind, and preferably to a location that could help get the Resistance back on its feet.

Crowded around the table that Chewie usually Dejarik on, you sat with Leia, Poe, D’Acy, Finn, Rey, and Nové, arguing over where the best location would be.

“But we have allies on Naboo!” you yelled, hitting your hand against the table.

“Our allies may as well be enemies if they are under control of The First Order,” Leia said sternly. “I would love for us to return to Naboo,” she said, softening somewhat, “But until we can send a reconnaissance down to see what has happened, I won’t risk it.”

“What about any of your parents’ friends?” Nové asked, “Could any of them help us out?”

“No one is going to want to stand up against the First Order. Not after what they did to the Hosnian System. People are too scared. They need something to believe in, and that’s not me,” you added quickly, “They knew my parents well, they barely know me. Just by name.”

“What about Yavin 4?” Poe asked with a grin, clearing his throat at your side. “I’m sure my dad would be glad to host us.”

“Maybe for a moment, but we need somewhere to set up a permanent base. The old base on Yavin 4 isn’t operational, and the First Order knows where it is. We need to go somewhere that they would never expect,” Leia said. You found Nové’s eyes across the table and knew that she was thinking of the same place you were thinking of. A place that the First Order would never think to check.

“What about Serenno?” you said.

“Serenno,” Leia said with a smile, mulling the decision over.

“We don’t have any allies on Serenno,” D’Acy said, looking to Leia for some clarification. “At least, none that I’m aware of.”

“I have one,” you said with a smile, “And I think I can convince him to keep us hidden. It might not be a base, but we can definitely lay low for a while, catch our breaths.” Poe looked at you curiously, especially when you said him.

“That’s a great idea, Y/N,” Leia said, “Contact Serenno, and Poe, get this ship on course.”

“Yes, General,” you said at the same time. You both stood, but you allowed Poe to walk out first. Leia gave you an encouraging smile.

“Serenno is the best option,” she said.

“I know,” you said with a frown. She nodded at you once more as you made your way towards the doo with Nové following close behind, as Leia turned her attention to D’Acy. Once you were alone, you gave Nové the same worried look you had given Leia.

“She’s right,” she said with a sigh, “Serenno is the best choice.”

“I know, I’m just not sure Lin will see it that way,” you said, chewing your lip.

“Well, it’s a good thing you can be so convincing.” You frowned at her as she patted your arm. “Come on, we better give him a heads up before we land on his front step.”

You moved down the Millennium Falcon until you found a private corner to reach out to Serenno within. You waited anxiously as Nové tried to make contact, and tried not to focus on everything at stake. You had all lost so much already, you weren’t sure anyone else on board could put up with another loss if Lin Ral refused to help you.

“Alright, Y/N, he should be up soon,” Nové said, pulling you from your thoughts. You turned your head to look at the holographic image of Lin Ral materializing before you and put on a fake, forced smile.

“Y/N. I’m so glad to see you safe,” he said once the connection solidified in front of you. “I got word about Naboo, and only assumed the worst.”

“Thankfully, Nové, Zaisa, and I are safe. I do not know if the same can be said for my people.”

“How did you get away?”

“I was off planet when the attack happened,” you said. He nodded and moved in his frame, seeming to try to get a sense of where you were.

“Where are you now?” he asked.

“It’s a long story, and one that is better said in person. You have been asking me to come to Serenno for quite some time, I hope this isn’t a terrible time.”

“No, absolutely not,” he said with a smile. “It’s perfect timing, actually. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” you asked, shaking your head.

“Yes. But I’ll wait until you’re here.”

“Alright,” you said with a confused smile, “Lin?” you asked as it seemed he was about to sign off.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you for another favor?”

“Of course, my lady,” he answered with a smile.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m coming. There is too much left unknown in this galaxy since the destruction of Hosnian Prime, and I don’t know who I can trust.”

“You can trust me and my word,” he said sincerely. “I won’t tell anyone you are coming.”

“Thank you.”

“I shall see you shortly, then?”

“Yes.”

“Fantastic.”

“Oh, and Lin? One more thing?”

“Yes?” he asked, his handsome smile never leaving his face.

“I may be coming with more people than just Nové.”

“Oh?”

“I’m bringing the remainder of the Resistance with me.” His eyes widened, but his smile never faltered.

“With an explanation, I hope?”

“In person, yes.” He laughed gently and nodded his head.

“Alright. I’ll see you soon. Be safe.”

He signed off, and with your bit of good news, you stood up to leave Nové . She was still trying to reach out to anyone on Naboo, even if her hope seemed to be shrinking by each failed outreach. You left her alone and went searching for Leia. At least, that’s where you told Nové you were heading, but you soon found yourself just outside of the cockpit.

“So, this is the legendary Millennium Falcon,” you said appreciatively, taking a step in. Poe looked back at you and smiled. He was sitting next to Chewbacca, co-piloting the Falcon, which had been a dream of his since he was a kid.

“Think you’ve got it from here?” Poe asked Chewie, standing up. The Wookie called a response, making Poe chuckle. You backed out of the cockpit and waited until you were both a few steps away before you looked at him.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

“Good, considering I was knocked into a wall.”

“Twice,” you reminded him.

“Twice,” he agreed with a laugh.

“You should get some rest. And you definitely need to get looked at again.”

“I don’t know, I think I look pretty good,” he said with a grin.

“You’d look better without the limp.”

“Help me out?” he asked carefully, nodding his head down the hall.

“I was supposed to go tell Leia that Serenno is awaiting our arrival,” you said, looking the other way.

“Then why’d you come here first?” he asked, taking your hand. You smiled and let him lead you down to a more private room down the hall.

“There’s got to be a first aid kit around here,” you said, beginning to open cabinets and rifle around as you both stepped inside.

“Y/N.”

“Hang on.”

“Y/N,” Poe called again, this time softer. You shut the cabinet you were searching in and turned to him. He was propped up on a bench, his bad leg extended. He had a soft look on his face, his eyes looking up at you pleadingly. “Come here.”

You walked to his outstretched hand and laced yours in his as you sat next to him, your pink dress spilling out onto the both of you. He chuckled as he pushed a lock of hair out of your face and smiled at you.

“Thank you for bringing me back to my senses,” he said, his voice deep and gentle.

“Back in the cave? That was—”

“Not just in the caves. I was beginning to lose my focus, the thing that kept me going. Being around you again,” he said, sighing with a smile, “I’m just really glad you came back when you did.” You smiled softly and looked down at his lips. He tugged on your hand, leading you to his mouth. You met in a gentle entwine. Poe put his hand in your hair, pulling you in closer just as you pushed him off. “What?” he asked.

“Take off your pants.” He raised an eyebrow at you, a smile growing on his face. “So I can check your leg,” you said with a smirk of your own. “I’m sure when you were stunned you opened up the cuts again.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Pants.” He sighed and awkwardly stood and stripped his pants off, moving gingerly around his injured leg. You tried to keep from staring, but it was impossible with him. You saw the end of his back tattoo, a large depiction of the Force tree that was planted in his childhood home’s backyard, and suddenly felt breathless.

“Happy?” he asked, sitting back down. You smiled and looked at the gauze wrapped around his knee and lower thigh. Blood was beginning to seep through it again, as you suspected.

“You should have got this checked out a long time ago.”

“Well, I’ve got you looking at it now,” he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and carefully started to pull the bandage off of his skin. He grimaced as you pulled a little too strongly and grabbed hold of your wrist.

“Sorry,” you said, stopping your movement.

“It’s alright. Just distract me,” he said.

“How?”

“Tell me about this ally in Serenno.” You looked back down at his leg, not wanting to have this discussion.

“He’s a count. I don’t know him all that well.”

“And yet you trust him to keep our operation secret?” The bandage had come off, and now you could see the bloody burns and scrapes that Poe had sustained when the hangar on the cruiser blew up.

“Does it hurt?” you asked.

“It’s fine.” You frowned and quickly brushed his cheek as you stood up again. “Where are you going?”

“To get a first aid kit. There’s got to be one on this ship somewhere.” You didn’t take more than a few steps down the hallway before you found the basics needed to clean him up. When you came back in, you forgot for a moment that he was only in his boxers. You tried to fight the heat in your cheeks, but it was hopeless.

“What?” he asked with a smile.

“Nothing.” You sat down next to him and looked him in the eye. “This is going to sting.”

“I’ve handled much worse.” You frowned at him and turned back to his wound. You poured the liquid into his leg, and indeed, it did sting as he grabbed your arm tightly.

“Ow,” you complained. He smiled at you and soon relaxed as the medication started working. You reached for the new bandage, but he took your hand.

“If you’re going to do that, you have to answer my question.”

“Poe,” you tried, but he frowned at you. He wasn’t going to let it go. “Fine. If you must know, Count Lin Ral is trying to court me.”

“Oh,” Poe said angrily.

“It was arranged by Lord Broden.”

“I thought queens couldn’t marry.”

“They can’t,” you said, beginning to rebandage his leg, “Broden is only looking to the future.” Poe shook his head, looking anywhere but at you. “I don’t want to marry him, Poe.”

“Good.” You scoffed and finished wrapping his leg, cinching it too tightly at the end. He grimaced but didn’t reach for you that time. You stood up and made to move for the door until he called your name again.

“What?” you asked, looking back at him with a sigh.

“Don’t go.”

“I have to give him an answer soon.”

“What are you going to say?” he asked as you moved back to his side.

“I don’t know. My parents were pushing for it, of course,” you said, rolling your eyes as you sat down next to him, “But I don’t want to.”

“Is he nice?” he asked. You looked into his sad eyes and frowned.

“He is.”

“Handsome?”

“I’ve seen better,” you said with a smile.

“He is probably politically connected, too.”

“He is.”

“Sounds like the perfect candidate to become your husband.”

“He is.” Poe looked hurt and pursed his lips. “According to my parents, anyways. There’s just one thing that’s wrong with Lin Ral, that’s wrong with every other man.”

“What’s that?” he asked, looking back at you with wide eyes.

“They’re not you.” He smiled and took your hand in his again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. That’s why I’ve been so reserved with you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just couldn’t bear it.”

“I understand,” he said with a nod. He looked you over slowly as a smile spread across his face. “You could make it up to me by taking off your pants, too.” You smirked and rolled your eyes.

“Not here,” you said.

“Then let’s go find a bed.”

“That sounds like a great idea, you need to rest,” you said, standing up.

“Why don’t you help me rest,” he suggested, standing too, and awkwardly shrugging into his pants again.

“I can’t.” He wrapped his arm around your lower waist and pulled you into his chest. “I have to go check with Leia, remember?”

“Yeah, but what if—”

“Poe!” You both turned towards the door and saw Finn and Rey walk in. You pushed Poe off again and took a step back, making him roll his eyes.

“What’s up?” Poe asked.

“We just got a transmission from Jessika.”

“What?” you and Poe asked at the same time.

“A distress signal, for you,” Rey said. Poe looked over at you and frowned.

“I guess resting will have to wait. Go.” He nodded at you and gave your hand a quick squeeze.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, the worry evident in his face as he slipped out of the room.

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You delivered the news to Leia, reveling in the fact that she looked relieved for the first time in a very long while. She sent Connix away to confirm the news with Chewbacca, just as Poe walked in. He apologized for the intrusion to your meeting and took Leia away for a few minutes. You looked up at them hopefully when they returned.

“Commander Dameron will not be coming with us to Serenno,” Leia said, looking at you with a frown.

“What? Wait, Commander?” you added with a smile.

“Yes, as long as he doesn’t fuck it up this time,” Leia said with a smirk. “Black Squadron is in danger, and as Poe put it, they are the Resistance.”

“I agree completely, but how are you going to get there? You aren’t going to take the Falcon, are you?” you asked, looking to Poe.

“No, I’m going to borrow a ship.”

“From who?”

“Grakkus the Hutt.” Your eyes widened as you looked between the two of them. “A lot has changed, Y/N/N.”

“Clearly. How soon do you leave?”

“Now. BB-8 just informed me that my ship has arrived, and Black Squadron can’t wait.” You nodded and looked at him with wide eyes, before remembering that Leia was still in the room. She cleared her throat and made a sorry attempt at excusing herself, giving you and Poe a chance alone.

“I know there’s no point in trying to convince you not to go,” you said, standing up as the two of you walked to each other. “But I would really like to.”

“They need me,” he said, taking your hands in his.

“I know, but so do a lot of other people.”

“If you would just say you need me, I would stay,” he said with a smile.

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said quietly.

“No harm in trying it, though.”

“Save Black Squadron, and then come back, safe,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I need you.” He nodded his head and leaned in to kiss you.

“Be safe,” he said when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“I will.” Leia walked into the room a few moments later, breaking the two of you apart. Poe took a step back and left after you both wished him well. Leia took a seat once he was gone and beckoned for you to sit next to her.

“So, what’s going on with you two?” she asked plainly.

“Nothing,” you said with a smile.

“I don’t think that’s ever been true.”

“Well, nothing has changed.”

“You have,” she said. You smiled at her gently. “Are you ready for Serenno?”

“I think so.” She nodded her head.

“What are you going to tell Count Lin Ral?”

“The truth.”

“All of it?” she asked, cocking her eyebrow.

“We’ll see,” you said with a shrug.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Snap asked, standing with Poe after he had come to their rescue on Ikkrukk. “Whatever happened, I mean. Whatever you aren’t telling us yet.”

“Yeah, Snap,” Poe said with a frown, “It’s bad. I’ll tell you all the story, but not just yet. You almost died here, but you didn’t. In fact, you won. You deserve a chance to enjoy it.” Snap smiled back at him and touched his shoulder.

“So do you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Poe said, shaking his head. “You know, I’ve been thinking about all of this. Thinking about the fight.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think it’s about heroes. I used to. Got that idea burned right out of me. It’s not about the Jedi, or the best pilots in the galaxy winning against impossible odds. It’s not about saving the galaxy. It’s about saving your galaxy,” he said as Karé joined their group. “The one within your reach. You choose right over wrong. When it’s dark, you try to bring some light. You end your journey knowing you made things brighter. If everyone made that choice, well, I think everyone can. Maybe they just need to see how you do it. I think that’s the fight.” The rest of Black Squadron had gathered around him and he smiled back at them.

“I really am so glad you’re all safe,” he said.

“You too, Poe,” Jessika said.

“Now how about that drink? We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

“Oh, hell yes,” Snap said, leading the group. Poe made sure to catch up with Karé and pull her back from the group.

“What?” she asked.

“What happened on Ithor? I thought there was a general who wanted you to stay for a while.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t just my flying he liked,” she said, giving him a knowing look. “I bailed after he revealed his real intentions. I’m afraid that means we won’t have their help, though.”

“No worries,” Poe said, shaking his head. “It’s better that you’re here. That we’re all here together.”

“So, that speech Y/N gave me,” she began with a smirk. “That was something else, wasn’t it?” Poe laughed and nodded his head.

“Yeah.”

“I’m guessing she’s part of that galaxy of yours you’re trying to protect.”

“Yeah, just like you,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. She wrapped hers around his waist and smiled at him.

“You’re different,” she said with a laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, it’s not exactly different, it’s just a side of you I haven’t seen in a while.”

“And what side is that?” he asked, approaching the rest of the group.

“I don’t know. But definitely like the one I saw when you and Y/N were together,” she said. Suralinda handed him a drink, a peculiar look on her face, but Poe tried to ignore it. Once they all had glasses in their hands, Poe raised his first.

“To a great win, and many more to come. To Black Squadron!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You waited next to Leia as the drawbridge of the Millennium Falcon extended onto a nearly quiet base. You wrapped Poe’s jacket around you tighter as the cold air reached you. A thick cover of trees protected the Falcon from anyone’s line of vision. Even if they weren’t there, the hilly terrain of Serenno made it impossible to see anything more than twenty feet in front of you.

A mist covered light stood a few yards from you, with a tall man standing regally underneath it. You laughed to yourself at his hands behind his back, which was straight as ever.

“Lin,” you said as you approached. He took your hands in his and smiled cordially.

“Welcome to Serenno, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. May I introduce my close friend, L—”

“No introductions needed, General Organa,” he said, bowing softly. “Welcome to Serenno.”

“Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice,” Leia said.

“It was no problem. Anything for Y/N.” You smiled at him before quickly glancing at Leia. Being around Lin in front of her felt like cheating on Poe. “Please, come into the castle. We have food prepared and any medical assistance you might need. We weren’t sure what kind of condition you would arrive in. And don’t worry, my lady, I’ve only told the necessary people, and they’re all sworn to secrecy like myself.”

“I cannot thank you enough.”

“Nonsense. You have nothing to thank me for,” he said, offering you his arm. You smiled and took his arm, sparing a glance back to Leia. Behind her, the rest of the Resistance began to file off of the Millennium Falcon, just as ready to see what Lin had prepared as you were.

“I hope you’ll enjoy your stay as much as you can. I will wait for that explanation until later, but it seems like quite the story,” he said, looking back at the following group.

“It really is,” you said with a yawn.

“I know you must be eager to get some rest, but I cannot wait another moment to give you your surprise.”

“You really don’t have to do anything. You’ve done enough,” you said.

“This is a good one, though,” he said, finally leading you out of the dark tunnels that connected the isolated hangar to the castle. You entered into the warmly lit entertaining area. Your eyes traveled along the rich furniture and the warm fire, longing for a deep sleep anywhere in the room. As your eyes glanced around, they found the surprise Lin had for you. Two figures walked towards you, and for a moment, you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.

“Mom? Dad?”

#poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #sw imagine #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #return to me #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #sw #sw fanfic #sw fanfiction

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tfw-no-tennis · 4 years

Text

mtmte liveblog issue 30

30 issues wow...forget the fact that I skipped like 5 issues of crossover event nonsense

another big ole swerve recap omg

this trial is so messsyyyyyyyyy lmao

hvbajdfbahsjkfdbhjs starscream listening to meagtrons speech looking like ‘hmmmmmmm I may have miscalculated’

prowl looks pissed af meanwhile optimus just looks dead inside lmao

I mean. megatron kinda does have a point. this is like, the most biased, conflict of interests lookin trial of all time, in that all the major participants have some sort of long, complicated history with each other. what a mess

optimus, listening to megatron’s speech: wow this is worse than divorce court was

oh shit I totally forgot that those decepticons attacked the trial

MAGNUS HAMMER AYYYYYY

a guy saying ‘objection!’ as optimus prime punches half his face off...that pretty much sums up idw op lmao

op: oh thank god, I can punch shit now. I'm not cut out for this bureaucracy nonsense

megatron: thanks, random decepticon, for the attempted rescue, but I'm super old and I just want to nap so no thanks

random decepticon: wtf- [gets murdered by optimus prime]

I love op’s big ass antennae

meanwhile, brainstorm goes to a bar and instead of buying anything, pulls out his own drink. I feel like that isn't allowed in most bars, or is at least frowned up vbsjdhfbhjdkfn. ily brainstorm

also? big ass mood I was so broke last time I was on a barhopping vacation w/friends that I brought a cheap giantass bottle of mixed drink in my backpack and just drank that at all the bars lmao

WHIRLLLL I love his humansona sm. and also I love that whirl is into artsy french movies or w/e omg

brainstorm, drinking thru a wrist funnel: sorry I cant take my mask off rn it isn’t plot relevant yet

‘earthlets’ lmao

I love that rung is like, too pretentious to care that much about movies and would rather read earth books lol

and then bluestreak is like ‘yeah they have books...comic books’ can this man not read

I still cannot fuckign believe that the argument that got megatron out of a for-sure death sentence or w/e was ‘its not a war crime if we’re on the moon’ liiiiike what the actual hell lmao

also I love that, once again, we see magnus’s strict adherence to the law, technicalities and all

magnus: you cant really stop a trial and move it somewhere else where the laws are better suited to the outcome you desire

prowl: what are you, a cop? fuck off

also op being like ‘ok whatever all that doesn't matter...what DOES matter is that it would look bad for us to move the trial to cybertron in an obvious attempt to circumvent the rules, and public perception is what’s most important, fuck all that ‘morality’ bullshit’

meanwhile, rodimus is dead! and ambulon is also dead, which makes first aid sad, which makes ME sad

ayyy, rodimus is still alive! well, one rodimus is alive, at least

rodimus and megatron really have the vibes of ‘stepfather and stepson forced to work together on a family road trip gone wrong after dad decided to sit this one out’ lmao

ah yes, ‘malaise’ the medical diagnostic term for ‘I don't feel so hot and idk why’ that practitioners like to throw under the ‘diagnostic notes’ section of lab orders to explain why they're ordering every blood test under the sun for a patient

I love medical terminology. ANYWAYS

BE NICE TO MY BOY MEGATRON.

rodimus: listen I have to come to terms with the fact that there's another version of me right here, and he’s DEAD, which means we can’t fuck, which is super lame

I firmly believe that rodimus would be team ‘hell yeah id have sex with my AU self’ tbh

I find it interesting that megatron is often casting blame for his actions onto others - here, he says that rodimus made him realize he doesn’t want to stop doing stuff w/his life, and then says that starscream forced his hand w/the whole ‘luna 2 law’ thing, and previously he’s said how whirl beating him up in jail is what led to him abandoning pacifism - take responsibility for your actions and decisions dude!

though he goes on to say here that he resorted to violence because he realized that the system that was in place could withstand everything else he would have tried to use to change it, which is super interesting

megatron: okay, yes, I MIGHT have murdered billions, but I could help find us a new planet, which would be baller, sooooo...how about you co-opt your lame son’s frat boy ship and put me in charge?

op: sounds fair to me. now how about we do some more Big Speeches before I make you somebody else’s problem

vbhdjskfbhaskdjf the ‘team rodimus’ lineup setup reminds me so much of the ‘together we make the ______’ meme with the different members being like, ‘the power’ ‘the gay’ ‘the awesome’ ‘the guy with no ears’ hbvhjdkfbs

chromedome: if I do this I could die

rodimus: that sounds like a you problem bro

‘this one time’ YEA RIGHT c'mon cd honor your dead husband’s wishes

omfg I forgot abt brainstorms ‘early early warning system’ lmao

I love nautica soooo much oh man

ooooof drift :( :( oh no

dead future rodimus!! uh oh is right

rodimus, known himbo: I'm sure I can defeat the inevitability of future events! all I have to do is cut my own arm off!

tailgateeeee he’s so cute...I love that he can tell stories of his daring escapades, just like at the beginning of mtmte, but this time its actually TRUE

OH SHITTTT GETAWAY

he looks so fucking sinister there lmao how are we NOT supposed to realize he has bad intentions from the get-go

‘you’ll make a prime one day’ well, getaway, you’re right about that at least...

cyclonus in the bg like 🤨🤔 at getaway

seriously I cant get over how getaway has such a slimy kinda vibe to him, like specifically in his interactions w/tailgate - this is before things even really take off but I'm still like TG GET AWAY (lol) FROM THIS GUY

cyclonus: somebody flirting with my crush? better go stare out a window instead of communicating absolutely anything to said crush about my feelings!

honestly I feel like, while megatron renouncing the decepticons and becoming an autobot is certainly interesting, it would be equally interesting for him to remain a decepticon but try to change the philosophy of the movement

like, I get why op had him give that speech - to prevent the cons from trying to free megs again/thinking that he was being coerced into things (ironic considered he WAS coerced into giving that speech) - but it’s kinda the easy way our for megatron - being able to completely abandon the decepticon cause and not deal with it at all, and start over anew as an autobot

it would've been a lot harder to remain a con and try to reform what he has broken in the decepticon movement - but I think that would've been really interesting

though from a writing logistics standpoint, I get why jro didn't go for that bc we don't get a lot of other decepticons in the cast for that to work, and also megatron still definitely DOES have to face down all his mistakes w/the decepticons w/the djd and overlord and whatnot

anyways. I cant believe that all megatron had to do to join the lost light was make ONE speech denouncing the decepticons. like, they should've at least had him do a tiktok dance too or something, just to make it a really tough deal

I love the rodpod vbhjfsdkfbjaskjndfj

ok but I still don't really get the logic of making megs CAPTAIN like ouch. poor rodimus

I feel like making megs a bartender at swerves or st would've been WAY more useful in showing him humility or w/e. OR it would've made him evil again, which, fair,

ratchet: don't worry, we’ll medically poison him, it’ll be fine

ok but rodimus is right, this is SO messy, op wants to prove his ex husband isn't 100% evil so he’s like ‘ill let my rebellious son deal with him’ lmao god. I love this setup so much, its so wild

ratchet is also right, rodimus’s fuckup definitely pales in comparison to megatrons All That

OH BRUTALLLLLLLL when ratchet says the list is fake ‘because my name’s not on it’ FUCKING OUCHHHHH

‘only bad guys say ‘unhand me” rodimus ily

omfg ‘we’ve practiced this’ of course they've done evacuation drills...magnus ily

lmao it’s the panel where it looks like rodimus and megatron are doing karaoke or having some sort of rap battle

and the lost light is GONE! oh shit!!!!

and there closes issue 30! once again we’ve gotten a lot of setup and exposition - which, while definitely necessary, means I don't have too much to say

I will say, throwing megatron onto the lost light has definitely mixed things up, and it’s interesting to see new dynamics already forming

so, until next time!

#lj rereads mtmte

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glapplebloom · 4 years

Photo

Behold the most negative I’m going to get into this series, and its not even about the wings.

The episode begins with Twilight singing about how Ponyville is wonderful today. But Ponyville is not wonderful because her friend’s cutie marks are switched around. This cause them to think they were destined to do the things the pony with the cutie mark does. This is because Twilight cast an unknown, incomplete spell to see what it does but thought nothing of it.

So let’s bring up a few things. First, this is something I learned based off someone else’s review of this episode (don’t know who sadly), but the pony does things that they think about the pony’s cutie mark they got.

Rarity got Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark, which in turn made her focus on the weather duties not the attempt to be a Wonderbolt. This is because Rarity is a business pony and respect’s Dash’s job as a weather pony.

Rainbow Dash got Fluttershy’s mark, which in turn made her think that she takes care of critters but not understand how to like Fluttershy would.

Fluttershy got Pinkie Pie’s, so the most introverted pony has to force themselves to be extroverted because that’s what they expect a party pony to do.

Pinkie Pie got Applejack so she converted her own feelings on working on the rock farm to working on the Apple Farm. This is before she got excited about being a possible relative.

Applejack got Rarity’s and that means making dresses. Nothing about the art of it like Rarity.

Next, Twilight seriously? You’re casting a spell without knowing what it does? That would be like eating the contents of a can without labels just to find out if its safe or not. And thanks to John Kricfalusi, we know that’s a terrible idea that no one should try.

Back to the summary. Twilight is sad that she messed up her friends’ lives. Sings a sad song. Then realizes she can fix it, singing another song that fixes everything. She figured out how to complete the spell and does so, but disappears. This is because she is transported to a mystical realm where Celestia is waiting to make her into not only an Alicorn, but also a Princess.

Let’s start off with another problem.

Spike: Why don't you just use that memory spell you used to fix everypony when Discord was here?

Twilight Sparkle: It's not their memories, Spike. It's their true selves that have been altered!

This is completely wrong. It was their memories that were changed. They thought the cutie marks they had were there’s and it made them think they had to do what they perceived to do. Rarity was still a fashionista, Fluttershy was an animal taker, Dash is still a better weather pony, Applejack loves the farm, Pinkie loves parties. They didn’t change their true selves, they only changed their past thoughts. That’s why it was so easy to change them back via song. The whole Discord Memory spell would have worked.

Now what about the most controversial thing? How do I feel about Twilight suddenly getting wings? Honestly, I didn’t mind. It makes absolute sense for Twilight to become an Alicorn since to me, she has proven superior to Celestia and Luna. Making her an Alicorn just makes the most sense.

The episode ends with Twilight’s coordination, a speech, and a reprise about how everything is going to be fine. So here’s the biggest issue with this episode: its two to three episodes crammed into 1. We get two songs showing how bad things are, 1 song to fix it all, and still a third of the episode left to go. Like how are we supposed to feel that its Hopeless like Twilight with basically only two song length worth of material. If this was a full episode about how bad its going, we can have the second focus on her fixing it and then turn into an alicorn.

And this is why its the weakest Season Finale of the series. Its too much stuff in too little time. I don’t even consider this a musical episode like others since to me a Musical Episode has the Music be the driving force. This has it more like a railroad with bumps on the way. It makes me glad I split the timeline before this point. So while in GLAB canon this is not canon, I am going to replace this with another that is canonically questionable: Equestria Girls. So that’s next week.

But because this episode frustrated me so much, this week see 6 Observational Wednesday Comics about this episode.

#mlp review #MLP Revisit #Green Lantern Apple Bloom #season 3

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mad-riff · 4 years

Text

Bud & Lou

Tittle : Bud & Lou

Fandom : Batman Telltale

Pairing : John Doe / Bruce Wayne

NdA : I know that inktober is mainly for drawings but I wanted to participate and, having no particular talent for drawing... Bud & Lou are the names of the hyena Harley has in some comics

“Hello, buddies! What’s up?” asked John with enthusiasm. He gently tapped the glass of the aquarium installed in the living room of the manor.

John had noticed it almost immediately when he had arrived here and visited the place. The fish were numerous and swimmed harmoniously in their large space arranged and maintained. By observing them more closely, he had found the activity very soothing and attached himself to them. Especially one of them, actually. Alfred had told him it was a guppy ; its scales were green and strewed with some yellow reflections. Did John identify with it at all ? Nah… Well, maybe a little. Just a little. This tiny fish, swimming in its bowl, following the group, distinguishing itself by its bright colour, and sometimes hid in a small chest in the decor, had conquered him. John sometimes spent hours watching it.

Bruce didn’t care much about it, he thought fish were a good therapy. When John started thinking too much, they would sit together in front of the aquarium. It happened often in the evening ; they turned off the lights and the blue glow of the aquarium projected on the walls a peaceful and serene atmosphere. Bruce had simply not thought of a small detail by letting John become so attached to such fragile animals…

“Hey, where’re you, Bud, best buddy? … Well, best after Bruce, of course! But don’t worry, you’re high on the list, number two, actually!” John giggled along the aquarium in search of the guppy. “Here you are!” he exclaimed before frowning and leaning toward the glass. “Oh no… No, no, no, no! Hang on!”

At the height of the panic, he tiptoed and plunged his arm into the aquarium without raising the sleeve of his jacket.He grabbed Bud between his fingers, trying to be as delicate as possible. The little fish was inert. It slipped in his hand, because of its scales, but did not make any movement.

“Breathe, Bud! It’s gonna be okay.”

John glanced around him in panic. What was he supposed to do? He closed his other hand on the fish without tightening it and rushed into the kitchen. He placed the little one in a bowl of water and opened the laptop that was lying on the work surface.

He opened the search engine and started typing different keywords. My fish don’t move, inert fish, dead fish ? All the answers afflicted him and brought no solution. He approached the bowl. Bud was not moving.

“Hi, John.”

“Bruce!” exclaimed John, turning back at the man who had just entered the kitchen. In the face of his panic, Bruce stepped back but looked at him with concern.

“John, what is it?”

“It’s Bud! He’s not moving! I don’t know what to do and this STUPID Internet is USELESS!! You think he’s dead? Please tell me he’s not dead! He can’t be dead, right?”

Bruce posa une main sur l’épaule de John et l’agrippa fermement.

“Calm down.” He tried to say with a firm voice.

“To calm down?? Bud may be DEAD!”

Bruce took a slight breath and approached the bowl on the table.The fish was indeed inert. Bruce made a grimace and glanced at John, whose expression became horrified. He took the bowl in his hands.

“Fine. Since no one wants to help me, I’m going to find out how…”

“John, it is dead. I’m sorry. Fish are fragile creatures, it happens often…”

John looked down on the fish and a nervous laugh escaped him. He gently rested the bowl on the table and shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh. Ok. Whatever.”

He came out of the kitchen and Bruce looked at him before he sighed. He passed a hand through his hair and looked down at the fish. He should have been more careful; John may not have been stable enough to attach himself to pets. He went out of the kitchen and went to the garden where he knew John liked to spend time. He did indeed find him at the edge of a small pool, his eyes fixed on the water lilies. He clenched his fists, visibly upset. Bruce put a gentle hand on his back.

“Hey. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah. Told you : whatever.”

“Look, I… I know you liked it.”

“Yes, of course. But that’s not really the problem. I.... It happened so suddenly. We couldn’t.... We couldn’t do anything. And—” he laughed. “Well, everything we have is fragile, huh? Our existence is fragile. And ... We are. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be dead, too.”

Bruce remained silent for a long time, his hand still on John’s back. He had already thought about it, of course. Now that he had put Batman away, however, the risks were lower.

“Living carries a risk, yes. That doesn’t mean you have to stop breathing and live. Loving carries a risk, too. And yet here we are.”

John raised his head before snuggled up against Bruce.

“I loved it very much. It was green. And, you know, green is my color.”

“I know, yeah.” The silence stretched between them, more soothing. Bruce held John in his arms. His fingers stroked his back. “You want to bury him?” He finally asked. John nodded.

They buried the fish in the garden. John made a little speech, then they spoke no more about it. However John stopped looking at the aquarium. One night, Bruce came back with a surprise. He found John on the veranda and handed him a small bag containing a green fish, a guppy. John blinked several times before taking the bag in his hands.

“Bruce... but... it’ll die too.”

“It won’t stop you from loving it and taking care of it. Come on! It’s green. Green is your color.”

John gave him a huge smile before he laid a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Thanks Bruce!”

“So, what are you gonna call it?”

“Hum… Lou!”

#batjohn #Telltale #batman telltale #bruce wayne #bruce wayne john doe #john doe #inktober 2020 #Inktober #fanfic #fic #october prompts #fish #bud & lou #fluff #dead fish #but happy ending

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oddlyunadventurous · 4 years

Text

BOOK REPORT 2020

I’ve always been a sparse reader but 2018 and 19 had me accelerate my reading habits to the point that I think I’ve read the most books this year that I ever had. I suppose I’ll count them all here, just to make sure!! I said something or other about the Moomin books at the end of last year’s Inkt*b*r so, this being the month of traditions, let’s make a new one by tallying up my literary “yays” and “nays” at the end of the season.

Video game text boxes don’t count, online publication articles don’t count, psych/aesthetic papers and 1000 page biosemiotic textbooks don’t count, but they have sure pursued me in my sleep during the year as well. This list is really mostly for my benefit (and no I won’t get a Goodreads account tyvm), so under the cut you’ll find a list of titles in roughly the order I read them, along with short notes. I’ve done longer reviews of these books elsewhere and I need not bore you with them here.

K. Stanislavski - An Actor Prepares (1936) I started reading this book in 2012, then dropped it because I couldn’t understand it at the time. Kostya attends acting school and gets lessons from The Director. He learns to sleep like his cat.

K. Stanislavski - Building a Character (1949) Supposed to have been published along the first one in a single volume. Kostya continues his lessons. A lot of thoughts on walking, gaits, eloquent speech, phrasing, etc. Both these books are wonderful looks into the author’s artistic life. It’s very heartfelt and down to earth, considering it’s quasi-fiction made to edutain. Very inspiring.

M. Polanyi - The Tacit Dimension (1966) A book on the origin of knowledge, the integrated performance of skills, the emergence of life and other phenomena in the universe, marginal control between levels of reality, the moral death of the communist regime caused by the unbridled lucidity of the Enlightenment, the responsibilities of science, and thoughts about open societies of the future. This is one of the two shortest books I’ve read in the list, it covers all of this under 130 pages and manages to do it well.

B. Rainov - Eros and Thanatos (1971) A communist propaganda book attacking western mass media and escapist culture. It gets no points for being correct, as the author mostly swiped the truths from french philosophers. Very variable in its intellectual prowess, almost as if it picks its arguments in order to push an agenda. Informative but also infuriating. Also expectedly homophobic.

J. Hoffmeyer - Signs of Meaning in the Universe (1997) A somewhat pop-sciency book about biosemiotics. Forgettable but also humbly written and explicative.

A. Noë - Varieties of Presence (2012) An unimpressive book about sensory perception. Noë’s theory on sensorimotor action is worth considering but the book is poorly edited and mostly spent arguing with peers.

E. Fudge - Quick Cattle & Dying Wishes (2018) A look into a registry of last wills and testaments from the period 1630 - 1650 in Essex. The book is about early modern people’s relationship to their animals and what they meant to them in life, as well as in death. Fudge’s argumentation is sharp and her style is modern. Being a scholarly book it is really overwhelming with the footnotes sometimes, but otherwise satisfying. One gets beautiful glimpses of family relationships, thoughts and feelings that people now dead for 400 years once held.

G. Márquez - One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967) The Buendia family get all their sons killed. The Banana Company sucks. People love each other. A lot happens, generally. It is a hundred years, after all. The upper class sucks.

K. Polanyi - The Great Transformation (1944) The Industrial Revolution sucked. England sucks. It reduced all its workers to subhuman wretches. Every single decision made after the empiricists made labour and land fictional commodities has been a band-aid to the essential contradiction that the market economy wants to annihilate its human host. Laissez-faire sucks. It caused WW1. Fuck everything. Fun book.

R. Coyne - Peirce of Architects (2019) Talks about architecture and the ideas of logician/father of pragmatism Charles Sanders Peirce (1839-1914). Informative about both. Brisk and not very in-depth, but to its benefit rather than its detriment.

R. Williams - Culture and Society (1958) A survey of the 18th and 19th century England, and the emergence of the concept of “culture” as defence against the horrors that the Industrial Revolution inflicted upon society. Consists of some two dozen outlines of contributors to the romanticist tradition, from Adam Smith, through Ruskin, to Orwell, their beliefs, contributions and literary works. Very eloquent and interesting.

E. Fudge - Brutal Reasoning (2006) A fantastic book about much: early modern views of the difference between a human and an animal, the Christian discourse of reason, the logical fallacies that lead to its implosion, the advantageous use of dehumanisation by imperialists in other to genocide natives, Montague and Shakespeare, and the ethical hell of animal murder that led Descartes to deem animals as machines so as to allow his buddies to perform live vivisections on dogs without feeling guilty about it (this is the real reason, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise). There is even space for an entire chapter about an intelligent horse who could tell a virgin from a whore and learned Latin at Oxford. This is my favorite book I read this year, so it gets an extra long review.

R. Williams - The Long Revolution (1961) A sequel to Culture and Society that’s worse. The start and end are brilliant but the middle sags. It contains some historical reviews of English cultural elements, like the newspaper industry, the Standard English vernacular and the realist novel of the 19th century, but honestly if the book was just about about the creative state (intro) and Marxism (outro) it would’ve been fine, if not better.

P. Klee - The Thinking Eye (1956 & 1964) Bauhaus boy in 1920s Germany! Love you Klee, xoxo. You really have to read his thoughts to understand his work imho. You can appreciate it just fine on the surface level, but his completely eccentric (though very self-consistently logical and sharp) views on art creation open a new outlook into his primitive approach.

F D.K. Ching - Architecture: Form, Space & Order (1979) A staple book for architecture students. Or so I hear. Steeped in gestalt psychology. Very good, though not necessarily stuff I don’t know already. Very nice looking pencil illustrations, Ching looks to be an accomplished technical draughtsman.

H. Wölfflin - Principles of Art History (1915) A strong contender for second place in the tier list. The book examines the transition between Classical to Baroque in Italy and Germany (and all the Germany clones, like the Netherlands). It is a systematic, precise aesthetic treatise that reveals much by conceptualizing and grouping characteristic art features in which the two styles differ, then explaining their bearing on their decorative content as well as the outlook on life that they embody. Lovely.

M. Porter - Windows of the Soul: The Art of Physiognomy in European Culture 1470-1780 (2005) A historiographical treatise about early modern views on physiognomy. The book deals mainly with the extant literature on the subject and tries to gleam what it could mean for the customs at the time - palmistry reading, occultism, persecution of the “gypsies” and the Christian scientific project of attaining meaning. Macro- and microcosms, as above so below, hermeticism, that sort of stuff. It’s an interesting read but it’s too long, the quality of writing varies greatly from chapter to chapter, and it is far too expensive. Wouldn’t recommend it.

S. C.Figueiredo - Inventing Comics: A New Translation of Rodolphe Töpffer's Reflections on Graphic Storytelling, Media Rhetorics, & Aesthetic Practice (2017) This is the shortest book I read, mainly translating Töpffer’s 1845 "Essay on Physiognomy" along with giving his biography and some other paraphernalia. It’s not worth the price for the content contained within, but Töpffer is the father of the modern comic book, so I thought I’d learn what his philosophy was. On that front, at least, very interesting! If only I knew French I’d save myself the trouble and read the original, which is now public domain.

D. Bayles - Art & Fear (1985) A useless self-help book. Not entirely bullshit but completely banal from all angles. Shouldn’t even be on this list but I did read it, so...

I. Allende - The House of the Spirits (1982) A child rapist gets a redemption arc. Well, kind of. All women are queens. Men are awful. The poor are wretches and it’s their fault. Oh no, the communists are going to take our land! Pinochet’s concentration camps sucked. Overall a better magical realism book than 100 Years of Solitude, to be honest. Very well written characters.

R. Arnheim -To the Rescue of Art: Twenty-Six Essays (1992) What it says on the tin. Wide range of subjects, from art appreciation, to schizophrenic and autistic child art, to gestalt psychology, to philosophy of science, to Picasso’s Guernica and the fate of abstract art, to reflections on the 20th century and the writer’s life in pre-nazi Germany and America. I love Arnheim, I’ve read many of his books and I’m glad I picked this one up.

R. Arnheim - Film as Art (1957) A book about cinematography, one of his earliest, actually, mostly a personal translation from an original German book he published in 1933. Somewhat outdated, but foundational. Not as informative to me but I don’t regret reading it.

G. E. Lessing - Laocoon; or, On the Limits of Painting and Poetry (1766) A book by a greekaboo about a fucking dumb poem and a statue of a naked dad and his two sons getting fucked by snakes. It’s misogynistic and authoritarian in several places, and altogether awfully full of itself. 100 pages of interesting observations stretched over 400 pages of boring Greco-Roman literary discourse.

L. Tolstoy - Childhood, Boyhood, Youth (1852, 1854, 1856) One story serialized in a magazine then later collated in three separate books. Aristocrat boy grows up in pre-revolution Russia. A very, very relatable coming-of-age story. Tolstoy is a lovely writer.

F. Dostoevsky - Poor Folk (1846) An epistolary novel consisting of letters between literally Dobby from Harry Potter and his maybe-niece, whom he wants to fuck. Starts bad, gets better by the end. A bit rough and tumble for Dostoevsky’s first, so I forgive him for wasting my time a little bit. A decent character study of the middle/lower classes, at least.

L. Tolstoy - Family Happiness (1859) An amazing romance novel for the skill employed in writing it. It is very short yet delivers so much emotion. Rather simple narrative at its core, but executed with such bravado one cannot help but be impressed.

F. Dostoevsky - The Double (1846) In which the Author starts swinging. A pathetic, neurodivergent old man gets used and abused by the people around him and nobody cares. Satirical and biting, better than his first.

A. Lindgren - Pippi Longstocking (1945) I last read this when I was 6 years old so I thought I’d refresh my memory. I remember disliking the book then and I can see why. Pippi’s kind of an asshole. Still very enjoyable to read. I know it’s meant for a younger audience’s reading level yet I cannot help comparing it with Tove Jansson’s books and how much better the prose in there is. Sorry.

***

I think that about rounds them up! That’s about 30 books, give or take. For next year I’m hoping to:

Finish Tolstoy’s and Dostoevsky’s bibliographies

Read more econ and marxist writing (low personal priority but i have to, in THIS economy *rolls eyes*)

Finish the Tintin and Moomin comics, as well as Jhonen Vasquez’s collection of edgy humor

Read more about botany and biology in general

Get started on Faulkner’s and William Golding’s bibliographies