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eldritchaccident · 1 year

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Timing: Some point last week Location: Teddy's Houseboat Feat: @mortemoppetere & @eldritchaccident Warnings: suicidal ideation tw Summary: Pissed about what Teddy said online, Emilio heads over to the boat to give the demon a piece of his mind.

He was angry. He was angry, and he knew he had no right to be. Emilio had said far worse to Teddy than they’d said to him in their online dispute, but the anger was there all the same. And he knew, on some level, that it was displaced; his mind was still ringing with that vampire’s words, hands still shaking with the weight of a stake they no longer held. I heard she died screaming. I heard she was terrified. They both were.

He couldn’t get the vampire’s voice out of his head, and it was stupid. The vampire was dead. (Everyone was dead.) Emilio wasn’t. Wasn’t that supposed to mean he’d won?

Teddy’s words, by comparison, had been nothing, of course. A dig about his drinking, which was no secret. A comment about his inability to be happy, which everyone knew. A remark about the way he viewed himself as a monster, which he’d never tried to hide. Teddy hadn’t said anything remarkably cruel, but Nora was in the damn mines and Ren was still radio silent and he didn’t want his neighbors to see him like this, so the demon became an easy target for that misplaced rage.

It was the second time he’d ever gone to Teddy’s boat intentionally. The first, of course, had been the first day they met, when he was investigating them and they were having a grand old time jerking him around. He’d been here since, but usually in some state of disrepair. Bleeding out on the sheets, drunk and cursed. He never thought he would come here willingly again, considering how much he hated the feel of the boat beneath his feet, but anger and grief made a man do all the things he swore he wouldn’t.

He knocked on the door. Once. Twice. No answer. Rather than knock a third time, the detective did something just his brand of petty and picked the lock. It was surprisingly complex, for the lock on a damn houseboat, but he was decent at this. When Emilio decided a skill was worth learning, he rarely let himself rest until he’d perfected it. That same paranoid part of his brain that warned him of threats around every goddamn corner was also pretty sure that knowing how to pick a lock was the only thing that would save him from about a dozen entirely unlikely scenarios, so he’d practiced. It came in handy now; Teddy’s door popped open, and the slayer let himself in loudly.

“What the fuck is wrong with —” He stopped. Took in the state of the place. Messier than it had been any time he’d been here before, with Teddy on the couch looking… Well. Looking not dissimilar from what Emilio must have looked like on the roof that night they’d pulled him down. Carefully, Emilio approached. Not gentle, but not quite as angry as he had been to start with. The anger, after all, had been a distraction; you could find other distractions, if you knew where to look. Any one would do. “You happen to touch any cursed necklaces lately? You look like shit, wey.”

—

Some fevers creep in slow. Take weeks to build up to anything meaningful. Then they are gone just as soon as they come. This wasn’t like that. No, not at all. Teddy didn’t even remember starting to feel like shit. Just getting hit by it like a truck. One second they had a minor irritation in their shoulder, the next they felt like the sky had collapsed and it was personally their fault. Somehow also everyone else’s too. They were biting and snapping at anyone who dared so much as talk in their direction. Harsh retorts they wouldn’t say on their worst day. Though, guess that couldn’t be said anymore.

Teddy’s skin sallowed, hung off their bones like they were moments from shedding it entirely. The comparison to how they’d found the detective wasn’t untrue. They were wildeyed, stumbling and slurring. Though no alcohol could be blamed. Nor could any necklaces. Cursed or no. Ted sat with the stinging song, whirring around their head and whispering a warbling tone that this was just who they were now. This was natural. Some sort of metamorphosis that was always meant to break them down and build them anew.

A series of sparks lit inside the demon as the other man stepped into the houseboat. One of rage, fierce and bright. It wanted to lunge, to use all the force they could to hold the man down and make him pay for the audacity of breaking into Teddy’s house.

The next was fear. Fear of the light pouring in behind the slayer. Fear that the slayer had come to do the job he was supposed to do all along. Fear that he’d be right to. Fear that they’d taken it a bit too far, that they weren’t fit to be around people at all anymore. That this was the end and they wouldn’t ever even get to say goodbye because they didn’t deserve to anymore. Fear that they would do something the both of them would regret. They certainly felt wound up enough to strike.

The last was as shocking as it was distressing. Delight. Teddy’s heartbeat raced, swelling in their chest. With so many primordial emotions surfacing at once, there was no deliberation between what should have been hidden behind layers of self-doubt or fear of committing to anything, even a friendship.

“Why–” A sudden rush of outside influence bid Teddy in about seven different directions. All tying their tongue to a single word instead of a whole question. Each at odds with each other until one claimed victory above the rest. “Why the fuck are you here?” Anger, it seemed, was loudest.

—

It was a fair question. For a moment, Emilio considered letting the anger feed into his own. It was tempting to fall back on the cushion that had always been waiting to catch him, the only arms that had ever seen fit to embrace him in the long term. If grief was a crushing weight, anger had always felt like a piece of rebar piercing his chest to hold it just a few inches away from making contact. It hurt just as much, and it’d bleed him out in the end, but it kept that weight at bay.

He wasn’t entirely sure what stopped him. Maybe it was the memory of the last time he’d been on this boat, when he’d probably looked as shitty as Teddy did now, when he’d been spitting every profanity in the book and Teddy had still wanted to help. No matter how much he pushed or lashed out, Teddy always wanted to help. It was why their interaction today had felt so off, so wrong. And maybe, deep down, Emilio could admit that it wasn’t just anger that drove him here today. Something was wrong. He didn’t know if he could fix it, but maybe he could try. It was what Teddy had done for him, wasn’t it?

“Came to kick your scrawny ass,” he replied, “but it looks like life beat me to it.” In spite of his internal acknowledgement that there was concern living beneath the anger, his tone was the same dry irritation it always was with Teddy. He didn’t know how to change it, or maybe he was afraid of what might happen if he tried. The idea of making an effort to stop being an ass to Teddy was just about the only thing more terrifying than the desire to keep it up. “How long’s this been going on?”

He moved into the kitchen as he spoke, turned on the sink and filled a glass with water. After a moment’s thought, he grabbed a dishtowel and soaked it in cold water, too. He didn’t know much about taking care of someone who was sick. Hunters didn’t get sick often, and his mother wouldn’t have taken care of him much if he had. But he remembered his uncle doing this for one of his cousins, once. Cold towel on the forehead, whiskey to ease the pain.

He tried not to think about how that particular story had ended. That was how it always ended for hunters, after all. But Teddy wasn’t a hunter. If Levi was any indication, they’d be kicking long after Emilio was gone. Still, there was this need to comfort. And still, Emilio was bad at it. Knives were only ever built to hurt. It made sense that trying to make a caretaker out of one would leave it frazzled.

Making his way back over, he held up the glass of water as if to show it to Teddy before pushing it towards them. The way he slapped the cold compress onto their forehead wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t rough enough to cause them any more pain, either. “You get sick a lot?”

—

A normal sickness would have dulled their senses. Made it harder to parse through the details and figure out exactly what was going on. In respect to the source, perhaps this did. But everything else? Irritating, far too bright, agitating, in stark detail and all together something Teddy began to despise. The more time passed, the more the fever took them, the more they only wanted to run and hide. Recuse themself from the world above and dive deep down below the waves. Or dig into the earth. The demon had never been much of a tunneler, but something called to them. Beneath the town.

Come to the mines, come to the mines.

Emilio moved through Ted’s space and the demon watched him like an ambush predator. Dark eyes that had been keen on studying the man before now took on a much more hungry tone. Their breath kept their head from being still, each labored grasp for air shuddered the whole of their body with it. Pain eked at every inch of the demon. Feeling as if their joints were drifting apart like landmasses during an exceptionally quick continental drift.

“It’s fine.” Teddy barked. Ignoring the first comment because to respond meant either slinging something far too harsh, or playing into the stupid back and forth they used to share. Why– Why did Teddy feel this fire now? Why had things shifted so suddenly, weren’t they just good? Didn’t they just share a meal and even laughter? Their addled mind rolled with these questions even when anger was still at the helm. Still controlling their voice. “Ain’t your fucking business.” Maybe this was just… demon puberty? Maybe Teddy had finally shed the very last of their humanity and they were becoming something new. They weren’t sure they liked it. They were very sure they didn’t like themselves like this.

Eyes screwed shut. A heaving mass of magical energy flowed in and around Teddy. Doubling them forward until their forehead met with the cold cloth. All at once leaning into it like salvation and recoiling as if it burned their skin. A hand shot up, unintentionally grabbing at the slayer’s arm with a force they’d never shown. Maybe it was some small part of their animal brain, displaying power even in this state. Maybe they wanted to show the detective that he couldn’t kick their ass.

It faltered though, before any damage could be done. As the person behind the fever waged war inside their head. A wave of pain bowled Teddy over again, this close they found themselves leaning against the man. The grasp on his arm became soft, apologetic. Their eyes opened finally, looking up to Emilio’s, pleading. Saying sorry without ever being able to verbalize it.

“You should leave.”

—

“It’s not,” Emilio replied flatly. In Teddy’s position, he was sure he’d be much the same. Lashing out, insisting that everything was fine and okay and begging to be left alone. Emilio retreated into himself when he was hurt, and the few times in his life he’d ever had a fever had been much the same. He still remembered the last time he’d felt that heat building inside of him — in the woods, his daughter’s blood beneath his fingernails, his leg festering under an infection he didn’t care to survive. If Rhett hadn’t found him and forced him into his stolen van, Emilio would have died burning up from that fever. He thought maybe that was why he was helping Teddy now — some desperate attempt to return what had been done for him to someone else. He couldn’t do it for Rhett, because Rhett didn’t tend to let himself get that bad, and because seeing Rhett in such a state always made Emilio feel a little like the world was crumbling. But he could do it for Teddy, even if Teddy didn’t want him to do it at all. That was the only reason he was here, wasn’t it? Balance. He liked balance.

Ignoring the bite in the demon’s tone, the hunter shrugged. “Never been much good at minding my fucking business, have I?” Neither was Teddy. If they were, they’d have left Emilio on the roof the night they stumbled upon him, would have left him in that alley the night he’d put himself up against a hellhound. If Teddy were better and minding their business, Emilio would probably be dead. And that would certainly be better for everyone involved, he knew — the most useful things he’d done recently had been rescuing a bear from execution and babysitting a demon that he’d nearly tossed out a window, and both of those could have been accomplished by someone else in his absence. He knew that. But…

Teddy was different, weren’t they? Emilio would never admit it, but he could recognize that Teddy brought far more to the world than he did. Teddy was kind, even when they had no reason to be. Teddy had a father who cared for them so deeply that he’d kill anyone who did them wrong. Teddy cared for animals in a way that mattered. Teddy probably had plenty of friends who knew them entirely and liked them anyway. Emilio, by comparison, had very little. He had a few people who knew only surface level details about who he was, and he doubted any of them would like him much if they knew the full truth instead. He had a brother who only knew the man he used to be and would hate the man he was now. He had a childhood friend he could no longer look in the eye because he was a god awful, irredeemable asshole who was jealous of the fact that her children were alive while his was buried. If it were Emilio in Teddy’s position now, he thought things would be better. The world could go on spinning just fine without Emilio Cortez in it. He’d known that for as long as he’d known his name.

Teddy leaned forward, and the grip they used to grab Emilio’s arm was tight and bruising for only a moment before it softened, before they leaned against him like he was something worth leaning against. He swallowed everything that came to his mind, because he wanted to lash out against the gentleness far more than he’d wanted to lash out against that momentary vice grip. He wanted to say get the fuck off me without knowing why, wanted to shove Teddy back down and pretend it was for their benefit instead of to escape the way their touch felt better than it should have. He wanted to do a lot of shitty, terrible things, but Teddy was in a bad enough state as it was. “I should do a lot of things,” he replied, mouth drier than it should have been. “Never been much good at any of them.”

With Teddy’s new position, leaned forward off the couch, something caught his eye. A flash of purple protruding out of their back. Hesitantly, Emilio reached out to touch the skin surrounding it. “What the fuck,” he murmured, more to himself than to the demon leaned against him. Carefully, he looked down at them. “You’ve got one of those fucking crystals in your back, dumbass. Christ, that’s probably what’s making you sick. I bet it’s infected.” Did demons get infections? He knew, intimately, that slayers could, but he didn’t know much about demons. “Let me help you get it out.” That was the first step, wasn’t it? He didn’t know shit about first aid, but he knew leaving a foreign body under someone’s skin was probably a bad idea.

—

Sea sickness had never been something the demon had experienced before, but this was probably how it felt. Teddy felt the weight of the world flushing through their ears, each sway magnified and pressurized the stubborn sting in their head. It was so hard to think. So hard to let any clarity peak through the hazy fog. Not even Teddy’s wards and runes could help. The cool water on their forehead was a half-hearted salve to a festering wound that went so much deeper than the crystal protruding from their back.

Wait– there was a…? An unsteady keel swayed the demon like a buoy in a hurricane. When had they even–? Why would there be a crystal in– the Treepy. Fuck. Only a week or so ago, but it must have gotten lodged in when Teddy had been thrown against the shard, sunken in worse when they shifted around it. Worse than any of the splinters and twice as dangerous. However it came with a glimmer of hope. If this was from those stupid crystals than that meant it wasn’t just demon bullshit and–

Their breath hitched, their hand went to reach back but Emilio beat them to it. The touch shocked them worse than an electric chair set to max. Teddy’s back arched and they sprang forward. A cat’s reflexes and a hyena’s temper. The crystal pulsed and pushed itself in further. A parasite protesting its own removal. Glowing purple tendrils spread out from the infection site, and slid the human disguise from Ted’s skin. Where blue skin had been before a mottled grayish stone looking flesh replaced it. While no other crystal protrusions had sprouted yet, their veins pulsed that same eerie purple as the pinprick pupils in the demon’s wild eyes.

Milliseconds after the jump, they pounced. Wrestling the man to the floor. Shattering the glass of water in the process. Emilo’s arms pinned above his head, far enough away from anything that could be grabbed as an improvised weapon. Teddy’s shaking chest heaved with the effort, just barely gracing the detectives each time it sank. Their teeth, sharpened and elongated, sat just centimeters above the man’s throat. Stopped only by the sheer force of every bit of will Ted had left in them.

What were they doing? What the hell were they doing?! Teddy never wanted to hurt Emilio, despite any of the animosity. Fake or real. Hell, they were starting to really like the guy. Even if they didn’t want to. Even if they didn’t really even know what that meant. Their stomach twisted and sank like a lead airship. What the fuck was going on?

“No-no no no.” Teddy rolled off, backed themselves into a corner. Their voice was harsh, doubled. Close to how it sounded when they fully transformed, which didn’t feel too far off. “Please, Emilio, leave. I don’t want to hurt you.” They begged, not knowing how long they’d be able to hold onto this lucidity.

—

Touching the area around the crystal seemed to have an adverse effect. Teddy hunched forward, and their skin seemed to shift around the intrusion. Purple tendrils spread out around it, making it clear that this was no ordinary infection. Something supernatural, then — which might make it the only thing that was actually dangerous to a demon. Teddy might not know that Emilio was aware of their… history, or how Leviathan had contributed to their nature, and Emilio wouldn’t tell them unless they decided they were ready to share the information with him themself, but he knew enough that he hadn’t been too worried until now. Demons, he’d figured, could bounce back quickly from any human infection. But this? This was something different.

He thought of Nora, in the mines. The photos she’d sent him of the crystals overtaking her entire body, the way it had spread. Was that the same thing Teddy was dealing with here? Had she been this sick, or was she still? Concern ebbed in his chest, and he decided that he’d have to do something about it. “Look, I’m sorry. I can’t pull it out, but I can probably cut it out. It’ll hurt like hell, but —”

He didn’t finish the sentence. In a heartbeat, Teddy was springing forward. There was glass breaking, there was a weight on top of him, there was a pressure on his wrists pinning his hands above his head. For a moment, it was a few days ago and he was in an alley with hands around his throat. I heard she died screaming. Teeth at his throat, heart in his stomach, and he wanted to scream. Get off me, get the fuck off of me, don’t fucking touch me. Despite the fever, Teddy was strong. Emilio figured he could break free, but not without hurting them. And he was so fucking tired of hurting people.

They lay there for a beat, suspended. Teddy’s teeth at his throat,stopping just short of sinking into his flesh. His arms pinned above his head, pressure building on the still-healing bruises that vampire had left. His mind somewhere else, listening to echoes of cruel truths he’d never wanted to hear. Both their chests heaving, neither of them entirely present.

And then, Teddy was rolling off, backing themself into a corner, speaking in an inhuman voice that Emilio wasn’t sure whether to contribute to the crystal in their back or the demon in their history. “Fuck you,” he said, a little harsher than he might have if the nausea weren’t still building in his gut. “You think you can hurt me? Not even if you tried, Jones.” He pushed himself to his feet, broken glass digging into the palms of his hands in a way that might have been a little more intentional than he’d care to admit. An old trick he’d learned from Rhett — sometimes, the best way to ground yourself in any given moment or reality was to make it hurt.

Limping forward, he put his hands under Teddy’s arms and pulled them to their feet, steering them back towards the couch and trying to ignore the way his mouth felt dry and his heart was still pounding. Safe, safe, it’s okay, you’re safe, he tried to remind himself, but it sounded laughable. He wasn’t safe here. He wasn’t safe anywhere. Paranoia dug its long fingers into his mind, twisting them into his thoughts. Teddy was a demon, and Teddy could throw him to the ground without trying, and Teddy said they didn’t want to hurt him but how many people had said the same? Lucio used to —

No. No, not now. He couldn’t afford to be a person now, with thoughts and memories and bitter paranoia twisting everything up into ghosts and hauntings. No one needed the man he pretended to be when he let himself be a man. But Teddy didn’t need a knife, either, did they? They needed something real, something solid, something good. And Emilio was none of those things. He couldn’t help Teddy, couldn’t help Nora, couldn’t save —

I heard she died screaming.

He shook his head. “I’m getting you another glass of water. Don’t break this one, asshole.” Moving back into the kitchen would let him exist out of sight, for a moment. Maybe he could figure out what he needed to be there.

—

Awareness of the outside influence was enough to keep Teddy clinging to the present. Lucidity held like water between shaking hands. Clinging to anything real like it was made of gold. Their head was spinning. A funhouse version of everything they knew. Whispers drew them one way, then shouts would push another. There was no rhyme or reason to any of it, only the constant flow of pandemonium. Reality was slipping away like sand on the shore. Any singular thing could have been an illusion. Carefully crafted to get the crystal embedded in Ted’s back whatever the hell it was that it wanted.

It was the stark contrast of Emilio’s words and actions that set him apart from the rest of the multitudes.

Teddy could guess why their mind might make a facsimile of the hunter. Weeks ago they had been in the reverse of this situation. It was both fresh and relevant, ripe for a delusion to creep in. While the demon didn’t fully know how they were supposed to feel about the man, they did know there was no one way to feel that was objectively correct. Straddling the obvious, the surface level that Cortez showed the world, and the tiny glimpses of light underneath. Nuance. Depth. Something that Teddy often wondered if Emilio even saw in himself. He could be two things at once.

In a way that illusions often failed to be.

Emilio didn’t run away, didn’t try to hurt Ted for their destructive outburst, nor did he offer sweet platitudes with his attempted comfort. (Honestly if he did it would be much more convincing that none of this was real at all.) Teddy wished they could say it was surprising that he was here, but was it? Really? Hunters are born protectors. In their own minds at least. At best, they can only hope to die saving someone. Emilio wanted that. They could tell. Every inch of that man ached to die for something, anything, good. He dove headlong into danger at the smallest prospect of leaving something positive in his wake. Why Ted would be in that category was a mystery, but maybe it was a sense of… payback. This was his way of saying thank you for saving the man’s life. Several times.

Maybe that’s why he stayed. Maybe that’s why he stared at Teddy with a steadiness that actually shook the demon further than any insult or remark the man could have ever made. There was a new kind of fluttering in their chest as Emilio crossed the distance. Picked them up off the floor and sat them down somewhere softer. If not for the pounding in their head, the vibrant ache in every joint and the searing radial pain from the goddamn crystal in their goddamn back, maybe it would have felt good. Maybe they would have liked it. As it was though, the demon was just fighting for consciousness.

If they lost that battle, who knows what would happen. Would the sea monster take over? As it had so often when faced so closely with the void, the unending sleep. Driven solely on mindless instinct and rage, would Teddy be able to recognize Emilio as something that should be kept safe? They didn’t know. A fact which filled them with a bit too much fear, and a hell of a lot more fervor to fight the fever.

“So–” Teddy finally croaked. Sipping at the water greedily, downing the whole cup in seconds. Still leaving their throat parched and sore. “Can’t touch it.” They motioned to Emilio. Option one easy route? Denied. “Don’t think I can either.” Even the thought of trying to yank that thing out was met with so much force of opposition that Ted swayed, dizzy and dangerously close to giving in to the song once more. “This– This kinda sucks.” A broken laugh crackled out of the demon’s chest. Seeing the cliff you were about to go over, knowing there was nothing to grab onto… well it wasn’t pretty.

“Can’t believe your dumb face is gonna be the–” a wheezy pause. “–the last thing I see.” Before becoming some mindless monster. Damn. There was so much more fun to be had. So much of the world they hadn’t explored yet. So many people they were actually getting close to, for the first time perhaps, ever. Failing a solution in the next few hours (as that’s all Teds felt like they had left in them) shit in Wicked’s Rest was about to get… bad.

—

His mind was still a battleground, still caught between past and present, but it always was. Emilio had long since grown used to the way one moment bled into another, the way his mind operated as a time machine he’d never asked to climb inside. Teddy was on the floor of the boat. Teddy was on the floor of that house in Mexico. Teddy was alive. Teddy was dead. Teddy was Teddy. Teddy was Juliana, was Flora, was a long list of ghosts that Emilio hadn’t saved. The slayer shook his head, selfishly glad that the demon was so out of it. Teddy had seen Emilio in a vulnerable state too many times already, had seen him bleeding out in that alley and half-mad on that rooftop. It was Emilio’s turn, he thought, to see Teddy that way instead. It was his turn to be the one who did something instead of the one who so desperately needed saving. He could do that. That was the only thing a hunter could ever be good for.

“Could tie you down and cut it out,” he said, “but I don’t think it’d do anything. Seen this before. Someone I know went out, touched one of those crystals. Shifted into something else, with these things growing out of her. Still her, though.” And thank God for that. It was hard enough to see Nora that way, but it would have been harder if her mind had been lost along with her body. If she were someone else, if the only way to save her had been to hurt her…

There were some things that he wasn’t capable of. He knew that, had always known that. There were areas in which Emilio was completely unable to succeed. He wouldn’t have been able to hurt Nora to save her any more than he’d been able to bring himself to put a knife in his daughter’s hand, wouldn’t have been able to cut that crystal out of Teddy’s back while they screamed at him to stop any more than he would have been able to lock Flora in the same crypt his mother had locked him in with a half-rabid vampire and a stake. You had to hurt people to keep them safe, sometimes, and Emilio was bad at it. It was what made him such a failure of a father, what made him such a shitty friend. He couldn’t look beyond that moment of hurt to see the good that would come from it. His mother had chastised him for it endlessly, had told him in no uncertain terms what a disappointment it made him.

Teddy’s voice pulled him back into the moment, and he almost wished it hadn’t. It wasn’t a particularly fun moment to be in, after all, wasn’t really something he wanted. The boat felt as unsteady beneath his feet as it always did, though there was something worse about it now. Like it wasn’t just the boat that was unsteady anymore, like it wasn’t just the ocean waves building up a sense of nausea in his gut. Teddy was talking about dying, and Emilio wanted to shake them until they stopped without knowing why.

“It’s not going to kill you,” he snapped. “My face isn’t going to be the last thing you see, jackass. You’ll still outlive me.” Demons lived longer than slayers; people lived longer than slayers. Emilio’s life expectancy had existed on a negative scale since the day he was born, had moved even farther in that direction the day the massacre made him the last Cortez left to kill. Emilio would figure out what was causing this, and he’d cure Teddy just as much as he’d cure Nora. Teddy would go back to being a perpetual thorn in his side until the next time one of them found the other half dead somewhere around town.

But they had to do something until then. Didn’t they? He couldn’t leave Teddy like this, couldn’t walk away when it was clear that the other was in pain. He’d never been good at that, but he’d never been good at this, either. He was a knife, but he wasn’t a scalpel. He wasn’t the kind of tool anyone would ever use to help instead of hurt.

Rubbing a hand across his face, he thought of Nora. “You been, uh… wanting to go to the mines? My friend, the one this shit happened to, that’s where she’s at. Might help or something. I don’t know.” Did being in the mines help Nora, or did she just like it? She’d sworn the mines saved her life, but she’d also claimed to have died and been reborn there. The fact that Emilio had seen her since and gotten no sense of her being undead coupled with the fact that he was pretty sure bugbears couldn’t turn undead meant that she’d been wrong about that, so she might have been wrong about the mines being helpful, too. But it was the only thing Emilio had right now, the only help he could offer. It had to be better than nothing.

—

Careful but uneven breaths kept the demon sitting upright, just barely. Teddy's eyes screwed shut just about as soon as they had been sat. Though whether it was from the pain or the inability to look Emilio in the eye right then, well who could say? Shame shouldn't have been in the demon's vocabulary. Leviathan had taught its ward to be proud of what they were. Had imparted a good copy of its massive ego into the child. Yet that old sour song kept creeping on in. The worst of times, in the strangest of places. Teddy was well acquainted with it however. The bitter bile that rose up in the back of their throat. Caustic and dehydrating. Leaving a desert of guilt in its wake.

This wasn't Emilio's job. And he was doing it. Hell, it was technically the opposite. Slayers were juuuuuust about as close as demons got to their own brand of hunters. Undead and unholy seemed to go hand in hand. A case could be made for rangers or wardens, given certain similarities, but it always seemed to be slayers who ended up doing the most damage to the ‘damned’. This wasn't Emilio's job, but the dumbass had decided that it was anyway. A knight in shining goddamn armor. Now complete with anecdotal evidence of how Teddy's demise would not be any time soon.

Ted's introspection skills were rapidly waning. A winnowing effort that grew more tedious the longer they tried to stay (more or less) vertical. They couldn't parse between the excitement drawn out by their usual volatile volley of insults, and the subtle brightness that peeked through the grief and heaviness of all of this, that came with just being near him. That came with the fact that Emilio “Number One Boat Hater” Cortez had come here on his own, on purpose. Even if it had been to chew them out for being a dick online. Man, they really had been one, huh? If it was enough to properly piss off the detective, it was a feat. It was easy to get on the man's nerves (that's why it was fun) but the way he'd stormed into the boat? That was new.

"Nah, no–not– not dying." They agreed, but it didn't make it sound any less like a eulogy. "Your friend still acted like themself?" Incredulous. A half barked laugh wheezed out, and Teddy finally opened their eyes again. "Stronger than me then." Pause for breath, gripping their knees, holding tight to sensation that wasn't the burning thrum of their joints aching for a shift. "Feel like I'm losing my mind. Like someone else is steering. Which could get– could get pretty icky. Don’t know if it–" They winced as a particularly big inhale brought a new stabbing sensation in their ribs alongside the air. “–is affecting me differently, cause y’know– I’m …different.”

Emilio was entrusted with Gabagool. Emilio must have known what he was. What Leviathan was. What Teddy was. Hell, right about then they must have looked straight out of a horror movie. Sitting there half drenched in sweat as glowing purple veins pulsed unnaturally beneath graying skin. It wasn't like they were hiding it very well anymore. But this wasn't the extent of it all. Ted had a few 'trusted' folks in their past, who heard about their origin. Had seen the more subtle changes and said they’d stay. But the full story always ended the same. It was too much. They were too much.

No one really ever stuck around once they got to know the Teddy that wasn't just a chameleon, changing personalities like clothes to better fit in.

"I– yeah. The mines. Whatever it is– really wants me to go down there. Never even– didn’t know there were mines under this town before–" It was something. It was help. Or maybe just confirmation of something they wanted to hear. It wanted them to hear. "You didn't have to do all this, Cortez. You don't–" another flash of that guilt, that shame, welled up in the demon's eyes. "You don't owe me anything. I give you shit about it but– I didn't save you just to rack up hero points." Teddy leaned back, eyes darting away from the hunter. "I only ever did what I did cause–" Well. Might not be another chance to say it. “Well it started just to mess with the big grumpy guy but–but then I wanted to get to know you. There was something different about you, I dunno.” They shook their head. Let it droop, let strands of stringy damp hair dangle just in front of their eyes.

"Cause you don't let yourself see the good in you. You always act like you're the reason the world is going to end, or that it already has and no one else has noticed. Like you’re waiting on them to figure it out. You think you are broken or something. Beyond repair, no redemption. But that's dumb. Despite everything, you– you are surprisingly, infuriatingly, unfortunately, pretty good. Amazing even. You still take all those steps every day despite–" the demon sighed, realizing how far into this strange preachy monologue they'd gotten. "Tomorrow exists, the sun might even shine, and people are better for having you around to share it with, Emilio Cortez" Their voice was still strained, still inhuman. But it carried a sincerity that most of Ted's interactions with Emilio lacked. Right until it faded in a brief wave of realization and self-doubt.

"God I almost bit you that's so fucking embarrassing. I haven't bitten anyone since– uhhg. Nevermind. Ignore me, I'm literally going crazy." The broken laugh made its return along with the aloof sort of intonation they usually talked with. Masked up. Walls back in reconstruction. The demon covered their face with one hand, the other too busy clinging to the couch like they were going to fall off at any moment. Leave it to the last few moments of mental stability to make a chatterbox out of a demon.

—

It was hard, seeing them like this. And Emilio told himself it was because it would have been hard seeing anyone like this, but it felt especially unnatural with Teddy. They were usually so infuriatingly vibrant, cheery even when the world was ending around them. He’d seen flashes of other things before — grief in that alley when they left the baukbear to die in order to save the slayer instead, concern on that rooftop when Emilio insisted that they ought to leave him up there even though he knew that they both knew what would happen if they did — but it always faded quickly. It was shoved down beneath the surface, cast aside in a way that was almost familiar.

His mother had always wanted him to do the same, hadn’t she? Not to replace his grief with optimism — she would have hated him all the more if he’d done that — but to stop feeling it at all. It was another place where he’d fallen short in the presence of his siblings, who were so much better at smoothing themselves into flawless blades that were there to cut and impale and do little else. Edgar never had days where he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed despite the fact that it was morning. Rosa never struggled to sit still when it was necessary. Neither of them had any trouble smoothing their emotions away, but Emilio did. Emilio always did. Now, too.

He was looking at Teddy, and he could feel the concern etched into his features. He could feel the way his hands trembled as he steadied them against the couch, and they weren’t supposed to. What good was a blade if it shook when you held it? What good was a man who only knew how to hurt? He was too much of one and not enough of the other, an endless cycle of wrong, wrong, wrong. He wasn’t what Teddy needed because he wasn’t what anyone needed, but he was still the only one here.

“A little different,” he admitted with a shrug, though with Nora it was often hard to tell. “She’s the strongest person I know, I think. But you’re not far behind. This part was hard for her, too. The changing. She said…” He trailed off for a moment, his throat dry. He didn’t like thinking about this, liked talking about it even less. But he thought it might be what Teddy needed and he wanted, for once, to get something right. Maybe it didn’t matter much with Teddy — Emilio had sunk this dynamic before it started, was pretty sure there was no chance at bringing it back to anything resembling friendly at this point — but it might feel good, anyway. “She said it felt like dying. I think that’s where you’re at now. You feel like you’re dying, but you aren’t. You’re just changing. And it’ll be temporary, whatever it is, because I’m going to fix it.” There was no other option. He was going to fix Nora, and so he was going to fix Teddy, too. Two for one special, buy one get one.

Hands carefully pressing against Teddy’s skin looking for injury paused when they spoke again. Cause I’m different. Emilio knew, of course. But Teddy didn’t know that he knew. It was an unspoken thing, a quiet secret. Emilio knew what Teddy was, but Teddy hadn’t told him. Emilio knew what Teddy was, but he never said it aloud. It didn’t seem fair, after all, to know what someone was without them admitting to it. Maybe it was only fair, considering he’d never explicitly told Teddy that he was a slayer, either, but it still felt like an open secret. Something he shouldn’t say, something he should let them come to him about if they ever chose to. Was that what this was? It was hard to tell. “Everybody’s different. But I don’t think this shit wants to kill you. Can’t get you to bring other people to the mines if you’re dead, can it?” Maybe not the most comforting piece of logic he could have offered, but he liked to think it made enough sense to keep them from insisting that they were going to die. The empty ache in his chest still hadn’t quite recovered from Nora making the same claims.

“Maybe we should get you there. To the mines.” He could text Nora a head’s up, make sure the two of them looked out for each other. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but he was pretty confident they wouldn’t hurt each other for the same reason why he was pretty sure Teddy wasn’t dying — whatever was affecting them wanted bodies to do its bidding, and dead bodies just couldn’t do the trick. They’d be safe in the mines until someone smarter than Emilio figured out how to save them from this, until a better hero than him came along.

Teddy was rambling now, pulling him from his thoughts. He snorted as they insisted he didn’t have to save them, ready to remind him of all the times they’d pulled his sorry ass out of the fire despite knowing they’d definitely hold the confession against him later, but… Then they got going. They started talking about him, about how they’d saved him because the world was better with him in it. And Emilio felt a little sick, somehow. Like he was the one lying on the couch and burning up a fever, like the world was spinning around him. His mouth felt dry, his throat tight, and none of this was right. None of this was true. They had it wrong, the fever that was driving them to delirium frying their mind to the extent that they looked at him and thought they saw something good. It was probably the same kind of shit that had had their eyes darting to dark corners of the room before, he figured, the same affliction that made them feel as though someone else was in their head. Fevers made you see all kinds of things that weren’t there. They made you believe all sorts of lies.

“There is no good in me, Jones,” he said quietly, picking up the glass of water and bringing it up to their lips again just to keep them from arguing. “Honest. And what’s broken in me isn’t the kind of thing that gets fixed.” Even if he weren’t unfixable, you didn’t waste tools on a broken blade when buying a new one was easier. Emilio would fall one day, and he wouldn’t get up. It would be one day soon, because he’d been living on borrowed time for years now, had been a martyr in the making ever since his father set an example that saw him raised with a story instead of a man in that corner of his life. Emilio would die the same way slayers always died — bloody and alone. And another would take his place. Not a Cortez — that name would die with him now, and maybe that was a good thing. But some other slayer with some other trauma, a stake in one hand and a wound in the other, would pick up exactly where he left off.

Teddy was right about one thing, of course — the sun would continue to rise, and the world would continue to spin. But the pieces of the cosmos that mattered the most to him were already gone and, soon enough, he’d be gone with them. It was how the world was supposed to go. It wasn’t a bad thing. There was nothing tragic about a broken knife, nothing terrible about a man doing his job. Emilio’s job was only ever to die. He supposed it wasn’t Teddy’s fault that they hadn’t known it all the while.

Clearing his throat, he clung to the next thing Teddy said instead, happy for a change in subject. “You wouldn’t have been the first person to bite me, you know. Kind of deal with a lot of that. At least you wouldn’t try drinking my blood. Can’t recommend it. Been told it’s not very tasty.” He almost added another anecdote, something about teething slayers and how a gummy mouth gnawing at your fingers was far worse than a vampire trying to make a snack of you, but the words got caught in his throat. It was too much. It was always too much.

—

Fingertips searched along Teddy's skin, bringing heat and a gentle buzz wherever they touched. The demon could only sit and stare as the man refused to accept anything even close to a compliment. In a way Teddy knew he would. In the way they'd come to expect. Emilio was fire. Bright, hot, burning and destructive but healing and nurturing too. He was the warmth of a hearth, where the embers only ever saw the forest it turned to ash. Trees still grew, the fire remained in place, blaming itself for the logs thrown its way. The very ones necessary to consume to keep the house warm.

Emilio was fire and Teddy was water.

Ever shifting, always so calm on the surface, taking the shape of whatever saw fit to carry it for a while. Eventually though, every drop returns to the sea. Teddy too, whenever they'd been used up. Whenever their vessel grew tired of the added weight and decided it wasn't worth lugging around. Water was fleeting. Destructive in its own right, but in ways people never quite saw at first. Deceptive in its draw to drowning.

Their elemental opposite stared them down. Brought respite to their lips when they had ceased to speak. Teddy felt themself almost rise to meet every new touch, every instance where flame met wave and a sizzle of contact made their mind falter just a little more. It had to be the fever. This couldn't be anything. It never would. Fire and water just didn't mix. Evidenced by each clash, each explosive endeavor where they tried to be friendly and something was always wrong.

The man swore he was the issue. The sickness gripping Teddy's mind like a vice wasn't strong enough to pull that memory from their vault. It didn't mean much though, coming from the same tongue who denied the good he brought the world. Denied every casted commendation. Teddy saw just how prideful the man could be, and how at odds with his self-view those moments stood out. Made them wonder, made them ache over who must have beaten these ideals of selfless devotion to self destruction into him. Emilio saw himself as a tool. An inevitable end to things that needed to be taken care of, and of himself. The slayer saw himself as just that. Never grafting personhood alongside the weapon he'd been forged into.

Words weren't going to make him see that. Even if they could, it wouldn't be Teddy's that brought revelation. The demon didn't get to make that kind of impact on people. The wounds they left were always superficial. Gone with the waves, sand on the shore. When Teddy's tide was gone, Emilio would find someone else to not let care about him.

Ted's gaze found the floor again. Finding it strangely and suddenly painful to look the detective in the eye. A common theme in the last few minutes. Brief glances were all they dared spare, lest the twisting in their stomach knot up to something worse. It was hard to tell what these feelings meant. If they'd still be here come tomorrow. If it would even matter, if this crystal mess couldn't be dealt with. But Emilio said he'd find a way to fix it and… and Teddy believed him.

"Make a habit of getting bit then?" Humor was a fine bouy to keep afloat on. "Didn't take you as that kind of fun type Cortez, but you've surprised me before."

—

Teddy probably wouldn’t remember any of this when the fever broke. They wouldn’t recall the way Emilio’s fingers danced over their skin, wouldn’t remember how they paused in places without reason, wouldn’t remember how he was efficient in his observations, but gentle too. When the heat left them and the gem problem was solved (because in spite of his pessimism, Emilio had to believe that that was a when rather than an if, lest he lose whatever he had left of his mind), this would probably feel more like a dream than anything else. And it was better that way, Emilio thought. It was better that way for both of them.

Teddy didn’t need to remember this. It was clear that they already had delusions about who Emilio was, clear that they already fell for lies he’d never meant to tell. Teddy thought Emilio was a good man, was decent, was a person, and Emilio had no idea where they’d gotten the notion. Had it been in that alley, when he’d nearly killed himself trying to right a wrong that was his fault to begin with? On that rooftop, when the world was too loud and he’d gone quiet to compensate? He couldn’t take back whatever it was, but he thought he might be able to turn Teddy back to the right direction if he had an answer.

And yet, he had no desire to ask. He should, he knew. He should correct them, should tell them they were wrong and make sure they weren’t hinging any hopes to someone who wouldn’t be able to pull them in any direction worth going, but the thought of actually doing so made his stomach churn. Teddy thought he was a good man and Teddy was wrong, maybe wronger than anyone had ever been about anything, and Emilio should tell them that but he didn’t. And maybe that was proof of it, the wrongness. A good man would tell someone if they were basing so much on such a falsity. It was a funny contradiction. A good man would correct Teddy, but a good man wouldn’t have to.

They’d figure it out on their own eventually, anyway. It was hard not to, with something that big. Emilio wasn’t just a bad person — he wasn’t a person at all. The lie Teddy had allowed themself to believe was too big to stay afloat for long. And Emilio ached with the thought of it, for some reason. He hated knowing that it was a matter of time before that boat sank, before the truth burned through everything else and moments like this one, quiet and amicable, became impossible. When the fever broke, the lie would break with it. How terrible he was to dread that happening. How utterly irredeemable.

Teddy was looking away now, gaze locked on the floor, on the couch, on the table, on anything that wasn’t Emilio. And that, too, felt like a contradiction. There was relief in not being seen, but he missed having them look at him. He missed the way their eyes had been bearing into him before, like they saw something there worth seeing. Maybe the spell had broken even while the fever raged on; maybe this refusal to look at him was the action of someone who realized their mistake and was embarrassed by it. It shouldn’t have hurt as badly as it did.

“Most of the people I fight use biting as a go-to,” he replied with a huff, keeping his voice flat. He was good at that. He’d never quite been able to grasp his mother’s lessons on not feeling, had been a complete disappointment in that regard, but he’d gotten good at not letting them show. At least… most of them. His anger remained a forest fire that tended to rage far beyond his control. But the rest of it? The ever-present grief, the echoing emptiness, the quiet desperation? He liked to think he was much better at hiding that. “But I’m all kinds of fun types. Maybe you’d know that if you weren’t so busy sticking rocks into your back.”

He shifted, pulling Teddy’s arm across his shoulder. “All right, get up. Come on. We’re going to the mines. You can hang out there for a while. Bet you think that sounds real fun.”

—

Mountains rose and crested between them. Maybe they always would. But that night, Emilio Cortez and Teddy Jones shared space, and so much more. Each in turn had seen a preview, a glimpse at the innerworkings. The darkest spaces they could go to. Emilio on death's door desperately wanting to be let in, and Teddy cracking jokes at their own expense as they sat on the stoop nearby. The demon knew death wasn’t really an option for them. That threshold would always be one step away. And eventually anyone and everyone they cared about save their father would cross it. If Emilio had his way, it’d be so much sooner than Teddy would like. A thought that sat and stewed amongst everything else swirling in their mind.

The crystal, it seemed, had become contented. Happy. The thought of Teddy being brought to the mines was enough to settle down. It shifted into a more complacent mindframe. Post outburst it barely serenaded the demon with thoughts of leaving or worse, of ripping and rending flesh from bone. Ted didn’t care for much that separated them from their own actions. Didn’t like the idea of not being wholly responsible for each and every moment. A sense of control was ebbing back in and they clung to it like a vine growing up a dangerous cliff. Clung to the sensations that were real, were here, that were filling them to the brim with feelings they feared more than any possible negative ones. It was far easier to be annoyed with Emilio Cortez, than whatever this was. Whatever made Teddy want to keep stealing glances into those big brown eyes.

It was the fever.

Had to be. Even if it wasn’t, this wasn’t something the man was on the same page with. Hell they were in entirely different books. Though no expectations had ever been placed, the detective came right when needed. Was exactly what the demon needed. And wasn’t he always? A sign to keep their shit together with experiments like Joy. To speak a little more plainly to handsome detectives who asked nicely about things before they ever got heated. To keep Teddy out of a fight between a bear and a hound that no one would ever win or walk away from. To help find an otter trapper and take them down. Every turn. Exactly as prescribed. Emilio could be appreciated from afar. That’d be fine. It was fine.

“Yeah-yeah maybe. Maybe we explore that theory, Cortez. Once you get this all fixed up.” The fingertips were gone, but he was slinging their arm over his shoulder and Teddy was close in a new way. The fever was a fine cover for how their heart rate jumped. For the blood rushing through their ears. For the voice that did still coo gently, no longer wanting to destroy the man, but to lure him down. Keep him in the mines with them. Would that be so bad? He could get a crystal makeover and whoever else was down there could have a fuckin party. “For now let’s– let’s go.”

The boat felt so empty as they left it. A husk, not a home. Almost like home was starting to be something else. Something just barely starting to bloom.

#wickedswriting #suicidal ideation tw #wrspice #not really #but for u fish

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maneaterwithtail · 1 year

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Why Belos role and characterization and treatment in narrative or character parallel bothers me

I cannot help but feel it confuses a therapeutic uhm... end goal

"Your abuser despite his (and it is ALWAYS a he) affect, power, influence, or even your feelings to him, is wrong about you and told you lies that control and undermine you. Leave them behind. Don't engage. Separate yourself and reasoning from them. You will be free and see them as powerless a shadow and not even need the same thing from anyone else. Because you have a more substantive and whole thing from yourself"

with

"Abuser is inhuman blind liar and nothing like you so have no fear. Its all a conspiracy and you'll never be like him no matter what you do!"

This is a common thing. Over and over and over. What grants the greatest... win or catharsis or validation for the audience's hero/standin. Moreso if queer representative.

Now, I do like the talk Luz has about this. And its meaningful, without prompting, she comes to this bad emotional place by her own reasoning and feelings. SHOWING how much she's grown and avoided being a Belos.

Its the "you were never alike along" that really bugs me. Not you changed and avoided that path thanks to acceptance of and by others so have become better. But He was conspiring and lying because that all he is which you never were doing (which is remarkably...untrue in my mind. Or says forgiveness is only for the innoecent uwu baby which no matter what the polycule aspirants are)

Moreover whenever its time to imply or make decisions its to absolve the likable or standins (or useful) or scapegoat Belos like some "The Devil Made Me Do It" figure which creeps me out. I thought the entire point was to AVOID that

Its not that

there are guys so hateful so ambitious so DANGEROUS you had to use violence and people who willfully double down do these things. It sucks but.. this how it goes. here what like and how we get from there to here and how deal with even the psychological aftereffects

Its that

said stubborn blindness in everyone is all sourced by this one conveniently hatable guy.. who also is just smart enough to cause and control all but you're just so smart and special and vigorous enough can't compel you, never did. Or he is stupid enough basic teenage stubbornness foils him time and again with little cost or effort but to the fee fees.. maybe true defeat when don't feel bad anymore

Again it, to me, has always felt like at ODDS with where Owl House started. A mature take on dealing with differences and expression and learning to get along and yes tolerate not just differences but 'enemies'

Not least because they don't ever have to

Hey? Girl who has career investment and resents you and etc etc etc secretly just repressed lesbian for you.

Hey? Guy who is true believer in cause and dismissive of everyone interrupting to it? Just woobie tormented by evil abuser. Not his fault and never going to hurt you because he's so nice and tortured. But also his beliefs have no validity or positivity and were never necessary.

Hey? Guy who avoids emotional conflicts and the difficult human investments, neglecting his relationships to focus on his hobbies and then turns people into components...for his self image is TOTALLY different than a stage mom because.. uhm... well she's socially ambitious and DIRECT as toneglectful exploitive in their abusive action.

Hey? Your teasing super popular bully is secretly just like you once they accept that they will have to get along (serve to) your goals while adding to your found family (staff and servants to ease your struggles with difference, labor, money, resources, or knowledge. Conveniently.. well save for occasional emotional maintenance whew no things and effort and time and work you value thought)

ETA Hey the family who blames you for your failure, resents your marginalization, and arrogantly wishes to fix you? Always outshine by you in clash knows less than you. And after come Crawling back to you benevolent forgiveness confess they cursed you! Once convert and undermine their worldview or prioritize you as to have serious issues with your criminal, self harm, and possible addiction behavior, then perhaps you can forgive them if will continue the obsequious or usefulness. (damn maheshwarens look at the clawthornes going there for the grace of God would go i)

Hey? Those horrible parallels you notice between yourself and people you hate is just an illusion put on by an evil white guy who embodies what you hate about society and authority or that asshole from that institution you have to put up with for your education. You're not at fault because you made a mistake and you feel bad about it and with perfect knowledge and power you'd never be like them so striving for same you won't do the same things.

And AGAIN i get where this comes from and why and even in some cases its necessary but tell me there isn't something just a little TOO damn close to

The Narcissist's Prayer (by Dayna Craig)

That didn't happen.

And if it did, it wasn't that bad.

And if it was, that's not a big deal.

And if it is, that's not my fault.

And if it was, I didn't mean it.

And if I did, you deserved it.

At the least we're at lines 6-4 for the lesson/character assessment/embodiment so with the NARRATIVE supplying lines 1-3. Information always happens to clarify a situation so the initial hook gets put down.

Moreso with the idea of the supervillain narcissist who all your own problems and bad actions can be attributed or sourced. (I avoid the Invisible man movie for a line implying this. sure sure I'm certain 'in context' its justified. that's the thing lines 1-3 is ALWAYS made 'in context with what feels a powerful idealized stand in' where things bend just enough for the character. Not really the dread female or minority character accusation word but close enough or evokes my same issues (have same or similar problems with Shinji, the world is or reflects or exists to further his depression so feels.. unreal)

Made worse because of the ... meeting in the middle of the lines or the completion the problem isn't "narcissism" -which can be inborn in exceptions who are people or exceptional people- but also develop in you and me. No the problem is the "narcississt" this shibboleth (forgive my cultural appropriation and feel free to correct with better less sacred or more accurate term) Archetype Modern Folklore Myth ("but its real I used The Sciencetm not Re-lulz-gen") I Learned From Validating Empowering Source. The Narcissist is always a collection of traits in a person who is other and despicable who has made the real mistake of being both ambitious, respected, and un-ignorable/supportive down to the core. enviable AND stronger.

Oh and Belos is always lying, to himself and others .. but doesn't believe or operate in a way to best support the lie. Say, recruiting a mob or authority or gang to go into the demon realm to enact a plan?

Why did he try that stupid lie? He's a MUCH better liar than that!

Heck he hasn't really had a hatred of Luz so much as witches and the demon realm mixed with an immature hero narrative that foregoes compassion or self reflection.

But even if it was ALL a lie. If he was at the desperate point he was willing to humble himself to the witches and Luz just to save his skin why be THAT preposterous?

Because the only threat he's EVER allowed to make is emotional to trigger Luz/audience trauma in a way that them having been marginalized in a way very VERY likely shared but specific enough to neuroatypical queer younger people or folks who have been near such can very much relate to.

Its like the bad guys in Dragon Prince becoming demonic untalking firezombies in contradiction to preaching following a religious appearing figure.

Too damn indulgent.

Have Raine, King Clawthorne, and Eda beat down Phillip or older Belos. not the Wicked Fals Wizard of the South East from The Bad Times of SUPER PATRIARCHY (and why its bad this season's finest ideological threads)

Have Luz hug her mom after resolute seeing his death, no "save"of her innoencence or responsibility. However vulgar, necessary, or more she killed a dude.

Just... stop it with The Devil Belos who is the Real True Evil because *insert things hate here* who if killed all his influence dissipates as to perpetuates because he's The Source Of All The Flaws, Even Yours Or They Were Mistakes After All He Doesn't Fit In The Found Family/Polycule Dynamics.

I guess end of the day I just disagree with

Dad Titan.

I mean in one way. The assume part. Hate can come from a genuine place. OR false place. Or an insecure place. Or a narcissistic place. I suppose not disagree with his point or even actions.

Its GOOD he makes the distinction he does between Luz and Belos. But Luz wanted guidance and she got validation, particularly the kind that without context doesn't guide to good.

Its why feel so adolescent. Which is FINE as that the primary target of the show. But blows the conflict out of proportion with that target's ACTUAL challenges and needs and keeps the adult responsibility and restraint down to convenience if this is about her coming into her own as an adult woman or taking that adult step.

Compare Camilla's journey to Luz and its... off

Moreso for me the sense sending Luz to camp was 'forced on her' and was 'a bad thing' Lucedas should feel guilty for as to a critical step to better Luz and did end up for the best even in the equivalent of Luz's doppleganger/sister where it happened when she stood in as Camilla planned!

"You can do all the same things without self reflection or ethical consideration if you find the right ideology/cause or are actually a True Victim" feels easier to get than

"This is how you balance your dreams and goals and ambitions with the fact other people are just as rich with their own inner life as you. EVEN IF YOU, as entitled and rightly, HATE THEIR GUTS"

That's taught to the Collector, but surprisingly only when absolved or 'retooled much like EVERY OTHER antagonist before to be a new party member in disguise.. also weaker now with easier exploitable weakness so not have to tolerate the threat of his power and another convenient evil abusive older shadow adult is behind it ALL! I mean don't have to deal with the possible mind warping idea of a clinical socipath or someone inherently more powerful than you you have to WORK to habituate, rehab. Or he is too attached to his trauma and wrath and vengeance, or yoy have to develop and prepare means to substantially restrain/neuter/nerf/drug/etc

much same as not have to tolerate the threeat of Belos's influence or connection and effects. Or that he's one guy when need to dismiss him but Extant all powerful shadow when need to justify your actions that support your hero narrative.

#spoilers #cartoons are series business #series finale #series analysis #The Owl House #3rd season 3 extended episode #character analysis #philip wittebane #Emperor Belos #luz nuceda #toh spoilers

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years

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Hey, did I ever tell you people about that time my friend died, and for the next few weeks, for some reason the only music I could listen to was Nirvana, The Clash, and Lucinda Williams? I’m really not sure why it was those three, but they were the only things I could listen to that didn’t immediately make me want to cry. Specifically, the albums Nevermind (obviously), London Calling, and Car Wheels on a Gravel Road.

I think The Clash and Nirvana may have occurred because I was just finishing Never Mind the Buzzcocks at the time, and those were featured at some point, reminding me that those bands existed so I decided to start listening to them again. Not sure why Lucinda Williams came into it. She was just there.

I saw her live for the first time ever last summer, which is a bit surprising given all the time I’ve spent at folk festivals throughout my life. But I’d never been at a festival when Lucinda Williams was also there. She came to town last June, and I saw her with my father, and it was awesome.

I know it was June because it was the weekend after they overturned Roe v Wade, and I was so depressed about everything that I almost didn’t bother going. I often don’t like how much American politics affect the general mindset in Canada. How something big can happen in the States and the next day everyone here is talking about it, while big things happen in Canadian politics and people barely notice. I don’t want my mental state to be tied to American things, I try not to be.

But this was marked out because it was so monumental. A massive, incredibly difficult to overturn shift that will touch everything and everyone there. I don’t like the way Canadians tend to care more about what happens in America than what happens here, but that doesn’t mean I have no empathy. I have friends and family in the States, not to mention the ability to care about people even if I don’t know them. Also, all the toxic stuff that happens in America makes its way up here. When I saw Russell Howard live and he discussed the trucker protests, he asked us if it was a “wave of stupidity” that blew north from America, and he was joking, but yes. Yes that is what happened, if by “wave of stupidity” you mean “lots of American money and disinformation campaigns to spread their dangerous rhetoric here”. Canada tends to pretty consistently five or six years behind the States that way, though that one was accelerated. So yeah, even selfishly, Canadians have reason to be worried about the Roe v Wade thing.

Lucinda Williams acknowledged it a bit in her set, as it had just happened, and was on everyone’s minds. She declared “This song is for the U.S. Supreme Court” before playing You Can’t Rule Me, which was a nice sentiment even if it’s demonstrably untrue; she’s an American citizen and they 100% rule her.

At the end, she left the stage, and then came back amid giant cheers. I went through which of her best songs she hadn’t played, trying to guess at her encore. She didn’t play of her own songs, she played Neil Young’s Keep on Rocking in the Free World. Something that fairly clearly made a point, given its verse about the young woman who gives birth to a baby she can’t care for.

The crowd, up to that point, had been fairly subdued. This is because while we weren’t technically at a folk festival, it was a folk festival crowd. My dad, at age 64, was one of the youngest people there. Folk festivals are populated almost entirely by people older than my father, who were hippies in the 60s and 70s and now they sit in fields and listen to the sort of music that used to represent this. They don’t tend to do a lot of physically demonstrating their enjoyment, because they’re tired.

But something genuinely cool happened during that last Lucinda Williams song. The whole crowd got really into it. All around me, people stood up. Men and women with long grey hair – nothing says “folk festival” like a man with a tie-dye shirt and a grey ponytail, the aging hippie – started dancing. People were raising fists in the air like that probably meant something once. And I’m pretty sure every single person in the field was singing along.

I did not stand up, because I can talk a lot on here about loving things like that, but have difficult actually expressing these things in in-person situations. Also, I was next to my father, to whom what I just said applies tenfold. He is not the stereotypical “emotionless father”, because he’s quite liberal in his political views. He was, in fact, a hippie in the 70s. He has stories about seeing both Neil Young individually, and Crosby/Stills/Nash/Young, in their heyday, and it sounds awesome. But he doesn’t have long grey hair now. He grew up to be a pragmatic government worker.

I think he did sing along a bit to Keep on Rocking in the Free World, but only at a reasonable volume, from his lawn chair. So I followed his lead. To be honest, I had a lump in my throat from the outpouring of expression around me, all these people with hands in the air and yelling along to this song and just looking for something good, after everything. I think I saw tears in the eyes of a few people around me. I had to make sure I did not follow suit, what with being in public and my father and everything.

At the end of the song, Lucinda Williams yelled, “The people have the power!” before leaving the stage for good. The crowd erupted in renewed cheers at that, and my father just muttered, “No they don’t.” He didn’t mean the people shouldn’t have the power. He just meant, you know, they don’t. Like how the U.S. Supreme Court can, in fact, rule its citizens. Of course it can. Grow up.

I told my dad that maybe these people just want to feel some power for a few moments, in this field where it doesn’t mean anything. And wasn’t he one of those people out there, “rocking in the free world” to Neil Young songs back in the day? “Exactly,” he said. “Back in the day. Come on, what are these people doing? They haven’t rocked in years.” My dad has one hell of an ability to ruin a moment.

Anyway, whether or not we agree that the people have the power, my dad and I did agree that it was a fantastic concert. For me, the encore was the highlight, but I was disappointed that she didn’t play Metal Firecracker, which was the main song I played over and over for three weeks, two years ago, when my friend had died and there were only a few things I could stand to hear.

youtube

Someday, I am going to get my life together enough so I can afford to fly to the UK and see things. In person. When that happens, I am going to play that last song on repeat for the entire flight, even though I am aware that taking a tourist trip to London to see comedy and comedy-related locations was not exactly what The Clash were writing about when they crafted this song.

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zumpietoo · 29 days

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An Anti-Handmaiden's Tale Rant....

Soo....okay, just gonna get geared up on why I kinda hate it all, in all its incarnations, etc (and don't find it especially progressive or feminist....)

So, first off....the entire OG premise has no shortage of pure, unadulterated mean girling, and the entire basis is "I'm not like OTHER girls"....then, ultimately? The main character is saved by a buncha dudes....and yeah, obviously, not ALL dudes are christo-fascist misogynists, but still....it's gross.

It's also inherently racist and, weirdly, depise Gilead quite closely mirroring how life was for many black slaves in this country? She's never, EVER mentioned THAT as her inspiration (in fact, everything she draws from is based on the plight of white wimmin far longer ago/in the bible (so potentially fully untrue)/in cults/fascist dictatorships/etc.....)

AND then consider, Atwood, herself, would later back a dude repeatedly accused of sexual harassment/assault, while ignoring the many, repeated claims made by victims who came forward....

That said, the series, (which she looovvess), OFC, is ninety billion times worse...

For starters, it's created by a dude....and, again, not saying dudes can't be feminist, etc, buuuutt.....

It's apparently, full bore misery porn violence against wimmin, with, yet again, wimmin, actually? Reduced to stereotypes....and, guess what? None of this is needed or feminist.

I found a considerable lot on how fucking racist it is, black women are either "best friends"/side characters or overwhelmingly, mammies (sooooo thinly veiled as "Marthas")....I even stumbled on some reddit thread seeking to disprove this with "well there's one commander who's black and HE even has a pregnant wife, making all the other sexist pigs jelly...."....great, so there's also tokenism.

Much progressive. Very inspiring.

I even stumbled upon a blog that dared have "history" in its name, while claiming how historical it all was....an example of their stupid?

There was a time where the only job women could have was that of a "fallen woman" and Charles Dickens sympathized with these "fallen women" in his books....

AHEM....while, unquestionably, career choices had long been severely limited for our gender, it was not that of "prostitute or nothing".....what does this fucking moron think being a maid, dressmaker, cook, governess or housekeeper were?

Yes, all were limited, etc....but they were all jobs that paid $$$ and presumably didn't require turning tricks. As for Dickens, boyfriend was NOT sympathetic to women, at ALL.....dude was a gross, elitist, cheating misogynist whose ideal lady was his own wife's sister, cuz she sat quietly in the corner, while sweetly sacrificing everything she had for others. And was skinny, cuz his wife had put on a few having HIS kids.

This person further states commander's wives have nothing left to do but sit home, while knitting and praying for a baby....just like in the 1950s.....umm, dude....wimmin DID have the right to vote and there were plenty of peeps (of all races) gearing up to start really protesting moving forward. Please stop being so fucking ignorant.

Additionally, while, again, yes, absolutely, life sucks for them too (and it's heelarious that Serena Joy was too fucking dumb to grasp that when she was working with them to overthrow shit), the fact is, being a politician (or other influential person's) spouse has always been a verrrryyyy full time job, in and of itself.

As Martha Stewart (an educated, actual prominent feminist, herself) has fully proven, and can turn itself entirely into an eventual mega career.

Then factor that it also (OFC) buries the gheys----AND that it stars a woman who, herself, is in a fucking elitist, gay-hating, misogynistic cult (Elisabeth Moss is a HUGE Scientologist) that publicly supports violence against women.

And, for the record, Moss never has and never will be an especially good actress.

So what are we left with? Some jerk quietly fapping to his misery porn about the manic pixie dreem girl who's pissed off cuz lost all her white privilege (after having taken it for granted and treated other wimmin like shit all her life).....and that we should be worried cuz we could lose white privilege too.

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punkscowardschampions · 10 months

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Teddy & Chloe & Ava & Gia

Teddy: Trouble in paradise? 🥺

Teddy: do tell me what’s wrong

Chloé: Why don’t you grab yourself another 🍹 and shut up?

Teddy: Darling, don’t be like that

Teddy: you know you’re my favourite sister

Chloé: That would only be a compliment if yours wasn’t a massively boring bitch

Teddy: but she is, don’t you be boring too

Chloé: Your entire family is, a complete and utter bore fest that I’m languishing in

Teddy: Untrue

Teddy: come & play [some rich people sport or game idk] with me

Teddy: I’ll sneak you a 🍹

Chloé: I can’t, the baby will come out simple and deformed

Chloé: I can’t do anything because of these stupid babies

Teddy: it’s A drink & isn’t it basically fully formed by now anyway

Teddy: our secret, I promise

Chloé: He’ll only use it to make his case for full custody

Teddy: he won’t know

Chloé: That would require him to pay attention to me

Teddy: Precisely & he’d rather be daddy or write in his little notebook

Chloé: You could steal it for me, see what’s in it

Teddy: I could

Teddy: would that cheer you up?

Chloé: It might

Teddy: Okay, I will

Teddy: then you’ll believe I love you

Chloé: There must be something in there, he’s always writing

Teddy: Naturally, it’ll contain his deepest darkest desires

Teddy: & tedious as those will be, we’ll know things he doesn’t want us to

Chloé: He’s with someone, he doesn’t act like this when he’s alone

Teddy: I told you, Ava

Chloé: Yes but you’re a liar and you have no evidence

Chloé: for all I know you’re mad at her for some unrelated teenage angst

Teddy: her refusal to sleep with me is irrelevant, or should I say only relevant because she’s clearly fucking my brother

Chloé: He has 2 kids, trust me, that takes away all the appeal he may otherwise have

Teddy: oh please, her family tree is littered with unwanted brats, it probably counts as foreplay

Chloé: It doesn’t, I was friends with her brother and sister

Teddy: I’m friends with HER, I trump you there

Chloé: What’s she like?

Teddy: off girls at the moment & as I warned you before he’s exactly her type

Chloé: He’s no one’s type, not now

Teddy: Oh darling, get real

Chloé: Parenting robs you of any personality, I’m serious, don’t ever do it

Teddy: firstly I would never, secondly, she barely has a personality at 16

Teddy: if you think G is a bore… she absolutely isn’t her sister, that’s all I’ll add

Chloé: Why are you just depressing me further?

Teddy: Because it would make me sad to see you humiliated at anyone’s hands but mine

Chloé: You’re nothing to do with me

Chloé: Not once James makes the humiliation final

Teddy: nonsense, we’re family

Chloé: If I were related to your family, I’d kill myself

Teddy: we’ve all considered a dramatic suicide, what day is it? Tuesday? Thursday? That’s standard fare for either

Chloé: I booked this stupid mini-break for him

Teddy: Of course, you’re a fantastic wife

Chloé: Not according to him

Teddy: & what would he know about it? He’s a fool

Chloé: Yeah, he really is

Teddy: you should totally have a holiday fling, I intend to

Chloé: Don’t be stupid

Teddy: what’s stupid about my suggestion?

Teddy: you’re a walking fetish, darling

Chloé: That is disgusting, the reality is disgusting

Chloé: he won’t come near me and he did it

Teddy: leave reality packed away in your luggage

Chloé: No, I don’t want anyone to see me naked ever again

Teddy: I didn’t mean it when I as good as called you disgusting, I was just upset

Chloé: It’s true regardless

Teddy: it isn’t, you’re not the parasite, you’re you

Chloé: I’m going to have to leave, change my name and never see anyone again

Teddy: & make it that easy for him to move on?

Chloé: It won’t be, I have something in place for that

Teddy: which is why I’ll miss you terribly

Chloé: Yeah right

Teddy: you always refuse to believe a word I say

Chloé: Because I’m not as stupid as you think I am

Teddy: I don’t think that, I’ve been nothing but complimentary

Chloé: Today, to my face

Teddy: it’s difficult for me to admit I like people to their face

Chloé: It really isn’t, you said you loved me earlier

Chloé: if anything, you have the opposite problem

Teddy: to admit it with sincerity then

Chloé: It just makes you the same as your brother and father, isn’t that what you want

Teddy: I’d rather die, frankly

Chloé: How unfortunate

Teddy: yeah, apparently so

Teddy: woe’s me

Chloé: Could be worse, you could be like your mother

Teddy: I fear I am, but as we aren’t family or friends, I shan’t confide in you

Chloé: Aw, do you wanna go to rehab too?

Chloé: Perhaps you can share a room when he ends up back there

Teddy: It would be a better getaway than the one you’ve booked

Chloé: You were meant to be childcare, it wasn’t for you

Teddy: When am I EVER childcare? Don’t be absurd

Chloé: The point is, you’re only here because he said I had to make an effort, even if he’s changed his mind the second we get here

Teddy: how pointless

Chloé: Tell me about it

Teddy: no, you’re taking your bad mood out on me & I’m very offended

Chloé: Go and cry to your mummy, I don’t have to be nice to any of you now

Teddy: Because you’re giving up, but I’m the pathetic one?

Chloé: I can’t make him stay, there’s nothing keeping him with me

Teddy: you’re the mummy, you have all the power

Chloé: He goes, he goes and gets a good lawyer

Chloé: failing that, I’m stuck with the kids and I don’t want them

Teddy: What lawyer is making his rehab stint go away? You haven’t had one, he’s a hopeless junkie on paper

Chloé: It’s all going wrong, it’s not worth the hassle anymore, he isn’t the same

Teddy: well, in that case, blow it up before he can

Teddy: tell everyone behind closed doors he’s off the wagon & you’re frightened of him

Chloé: You keep missing the fairly blatant point that I don’t want these fucking kids

Chloé: How does any of this help me, it doesn’t

Teddy: That’s what your parents are for & mine

Teddy: staff too, which he’s paying for when you rinse the family bank accounts

Chloé: Why do you hate him?

Teddy: I don’t

Chloé: Yeah right

Teddy: I’m helping you because no one else is going to

Chloé: Why?

Teddy: I hate my father & he’ll love this, being rid of you

Chloé: Why do you hate your father?

Teddy: He can’t stop attempting to run my life, it’ll be in ruins, like J & G’s if he has his way

Chloé: Your sister has a great life, James just likes being sad

Teddy: She’s about to marry an OAP, it’s embarrassing

Chloé: He’s rich, of course she is

Teddy: we’re richer, she could do better

Chloé: Then he has a massive cock, I don’t know

Chloé: She clearly likes him for some reason, she’s skinny, she could get anyone her own age if she wanted

Teddy: the reason is her blatant daddy issues

Chloé: Why do you care?

Teddy: I’m a laughing stock thanks to their bad choices

Chloé: Not your own, no?

Teddy: I don’t make any that terrible, no

Chloé: Debatable but you’re just a child, there’s time to forgive and forget

Teddy: Wash your mouth out with 🍹 I’m not a child

Chloé: Yes you are, you’re barely older than Jay

Teddy: she’s 4 & you’re being cruel

Chloé: Make yours a 🧃

Teddy: yours, for the sake of your hopefully undeformed second brat

Chloé: It would serve him right if I spoiled it but I’m not having my name attached to it

Teddy: your name isn’t, you gave it over to him during the doomed wedding

Chloé: Which your father wanted, actually, so why would he want rid of me now

Teddy: You don’t behave

Chloé: I’m not a child, I don’t have to

Teddy: It’s daddy’s world we all simply occupy space, or don’t soon, when it comes to you

Chloé: He’s weird, you’re all bloody weird

Teddy: unfortunately my mother started a trend of marrying beneath her that I alone am going to be exempt from

Chloé: Yeah, you can tell she’s inbred

Teddy: Aren’t your parents cousins? You’d never tell they weren’t closely related

Chloé: Says you, it’s not normal for a boy of your age to spend so much time with their mother

Teddy: Ha ha

Chloé: Funny weird not funny ha ha but that’s not your fault, entirely

Teddy: I have friends, would you like me to make you some?

Chloé: No, you have no taste and only know other toddlers

Teddy: suit yourself, be lonely

Chloé: I don’t need your help, you don’t even understand

Teddy: I take back my offer of, you underestimate me

Chloé: Oh, whatever, you’re just an annoyance

Teddy: Fine, I’ll keep the notebook

Chloé: You haven’t got it

Teddy: [photos of it to prove he has]

Chloé: Where is he? He never leaves it

Teddy: you aren’t deserving of the item or that info

Chloé: You can’t keep that from me, it’s my business

Teddy: you should’ve considered this possibility when you were being a bitch

Chloé: It’s not relevant to you, come on, I need to know or I can’t do anything

Teddy: it’s amusing & I have so little else to entertain me

Chloé: What do you want for it?

Teddy: shh, I’m reading

Chloé: Stop it, it’s not funny

Teddy: true, his writing style is very dry

Chloé: Just answer the question, for God’s sake

Teddy: I would, but I doubt you have anything I want, Chlo

Chloé: Ask and I’ll get it

Teddy: I can get things for myself by asking

Chloé: This isn’t a game

Teddy: For me, that’s 100% what it is

Chloé: I’ll tell him you took it then

Teddy: go ahead

Chloé: You’re not sharing, that means there’s nothing in it worth my time, so yeah, I will

Teddy: does it? Or am I a slow reader?

Chloé: You’re full of shit

Teddy: maybe, maybe these pages are full of quality blackmail

Chloé: You’re bluffing

Teddy: Ooh, let’s play poker, fantastic idea

Teddy: but first let me finish

Chloé: No

Teddy: bye-bye for now

Chloé: I’m serious

Teddy: Me too, I’m trying to concentrate

Chloé: What will it take for you to bring that here now

Teddy: as I said, I think you’re out of luck

Chloé: I’ll tell you the secret weapon, if you give that notebook to me

Teddy: How do I have the slightest guarantee you won’t snatch it & tell me something stupid, or nothing at all?

Chloé: You don’t, just like you’ve gone back on your word to get the book for me

Teddy: I swore I’d get it & I did, you started being mean first

Chloé: Because I’m heartbroken

Teddy: not by me, I’ve been super helpful

Chloé: No, not by you

Chloé: you can’t expect me to behave rationally at a time like this

Teddy: I don’t, I expect you to treat me as you’re asking to be treated

Chloé: Okay

Teddy: Okay, did that need to be SO hard?

Chloé: Hurry up

Teddy: be nice

Chloé: Come on

Teddy: nicer

Chloé: ⏱

Teddy: say please

Chloé: I’d rather say nothing

Teddy: that isn’t an option

Chloé: …

Chloé: See, easy

Teddy: I understand, you’ve changed your mind, you don’t care about the notebook after all

Chloé: Why are you like this?

Teddy: more importantly, why won’t you just say it?

Chloé: I don’t want to

Teddy: I don’t want to bring this to you, I guess I won’t

Chloé: But you do

Teddy: no, sorry

Chloé: It’s meaningless information to you, you can’t blackmail him, I already know and he’s already leaving

Chloé: I just want to hear the things he won’t say to me

Teddy: So say please & I’ll hand it to you

Chloé: You’re a dick

Teddy: you’re stalling, tick tock

Chloé: Please bring me the notebook now

Teddy: please, Teddy

Chloé: Fuck off

Teddy: gladly

Chloé: [when you’re going to have to snitch to get James to get it back, only to find out it’s in shorthand when you demand to read it from him]

Teddy: [we love to see a flop get thwarted, I just know Teddy has taken pics of every page but he’s too lazy to decode this/get someone to because not that invested]

Chloé: [so fuming now, the whole of this destination gonna know lol]

Teddy: [haha sucks to suck Chlo]

Chloé: [have a screaming match ‘cos you can’t get schwasted, soz James, at least you’re more in the mood for it than normal]

Teddy: [keeping it classy, Teddy there sipping his drink enjoying the show]

Chloé: [me like ma’am, your blood pressure, if this were a movie that baby would be flying out from the drama]

Teddy: [poor baby Mattie, but at least if Chlo makes herself ill and has to go to bed everyone will get a reprieve]

Chloé: If this baby dies it is entirely your fault

Teddy: I’m honoured

Chloé: You’re a sick little freak and I’ll sue you

Teddy: you don’t want it anyway, I’d be doing you a favour

Chloé: You don’t do anyone any favours

Teddy: we aren’t friends, I have 0 cause to

Chloé: You have 0 brain cells

Teddy: Rich coming from you

Chloé: Maybe but at least I don’t get pleasure from making people feel bad

Teddy: Yes you do, you’ve made it your full time job, for lack of a career or fulfilling your parenting duties, to destroy my brother

Chloé: No I don’t, I need him, I would never destroy him

Teddy: liar, you need him under your thumb

Chloé: I need him to look after me

Teddy: I’m honestly gobsmacked he has a functioning set to cheat on you with, though perhaps he doesn’t, she is famously drawn to pussy as well

Chloé: Someone should smack you, your ignorance is astounding

Teddy: Again, go ahead

Teddy: vanilla, but I don’t anticipate you’re anything other than

Chloé: You’re the one that’s all talk

Teddy: if you did more of it he might be turned on by you

Chloé: He’s not a sociopath like you, he cares about more

Teddy: He doesn’t care about you in the least anymore 💔

Chloé: I hope something terrible happens to you, immediately

Teddy: Karma adores me

Chloé: Something has to

Teddy: You should bite literally instead of this, another bedroom tip for you

Chloé: I don’t need tips from you

Teddy: you absolutely do

Chloé: I’ve told you, multiple times, that isn’t why he’s leaving

Teddy: I’m aware, he’s leaving because he’s found himself an upgrade in more ways than the one

Teddy: the tips are for securing hubby number 2

Chloé: Not for long

Teddy: it’s a fact, darling, face it

Chloé: When everything goes to shit, remember, it’s not even slightly for your benefit

Teddy: I’ll enjoy it nevertheless, thanks in advance

Chloé: Goodbye

Teddy: Bye, Chlo x

Teddy: [sending Ava a random page from this notebook not expecting her to actually recognise it, just to be a playful chaos demon]

Teddy: Does this mean anything to you?

Ava: What is that?

Teddy: I assumed as a future journalism student you’d recognise Shorthand, but maybe it’s a dying or dead ‘art’

Ava: It might be code, what on earth are you up to, I thought you were on a family holiday?

Teddy: Oh I am

Ava: What kind of games night…

Teddy: J is cheating on his wife, again

Teddy: predictable fireworks have ensued

Ava: Oh, that kind

Ava: Next flight home, is it?

Teddy: Hardly, she’s staying to the bitter end, her home having been fully wrecked

Ava: but what are you lot doing? 😬

Teddy: I told you, I’m enjoying the show

Ava: Teddy

Teddy: Ava?

Ava: If this is really the end, you can’t say that, have some decorum

Teddy: Why, her public screaming is displaying 0

Ava: Because it’s serious, if not sad or whatever, it’s still shitty

Teddy: seriously entertaining

Ava: You’re awful

Ava: what do your parents think?

Teddy: They’re a tad busy with their own preoccupations, as usual

Ava: Some things never change, comforting, I guess?

Teddy: anyway, I’ll leave you to yours

Ava: And what would that be

Teddy: I haven’t the slightest idea, revision probably

Ava: Right, you’re so astute, good luck with your codebreaking

Teddy: Bold of you to assume I’ll bother now it’s broken them up

Ava: That’ll hardly be the reason

Teddy: the final straw

Ava: I take it the kid hasn’t been left with you to be ‘entertained’ by it all, right?

Teddy: I don’t know where she is, with her other grandparents perhaps

Ava: Makes sense, trauma swerved

Teddy: I’d want to distance myself from my grown up daughter behaving like a toddler

Ava: I’m familiar with the antics, my family has it’s own

Teddy: How IS your sister? Do send her my love

Ava: Naturally, I’m sure she’ll remember who you are with some prompting

Teddy: I haven’t seen her since [some event that wasn’t long ago at all to be sarcastic and also extra cos we love Nancy], positively ages ago

Ava: Who can say how many boyfriends and hairstyles she’s cycled through since then, eh

Teddy: me too, naturally

Ava: 😏

Teddy: Holiday fling temporarily on hold though it may be

Ava: How could you possibly concentrate

Teddy: exactly & miss a moment, for who?

Ava: You’ll find that someone one day

Teddy: as long as I don’t write the world’s driest coded messages about them

Ava: You’re just mad you couldn’t snoop properly

Teddy: I had my fun when she was begging me to let her read it & the end result is the same coded or not

Ava: I would have killed you

Teddy: & how fun that would have been, but you never want to play along

Ava: I doubt it’s a game to your SiL

Teddy: He’s leaving her, she isn’t going to be any relation soon

Ava: You can do better, babe

Teddy: J can, somehow

Teddy: not that it’s difficult, but I really had thought him completely crushed, we all did

Ava: You’re glad for him?

Teddy: we needn’t go that far, but at least he’s out from under her [a designer boot or heel but in a shady way because Chlo has no taste]

Ava: Heaven forbid you get that close to sincerity

Teddy: I sincerely can’t blame him for not wishing to fuck her, it would certainly take a stronger stomach than J has

Ava: You famously fancy everyone, come on

Teddy: I do not

Ava: 😉

Teddy: letting yourself go to that extent at 21 is ludicrous

Ava: You’ll be looking for a childless fling then

Teddy: Always

Ava: A good rule

Teddy: knowing they’re already that fertile before I’ve been near them puts me on edge, I’d have to be careful & who wants that?

Ava: Who wants a Teddy Jnr?

Teddy: disgusting

Ava: That’s your birthday present sorted

Teddy: Now you want to seduce me, typical

Ava: Of course

Ava: I’ll get you the good kind

Teddy: I’m sure, thanks in advance

Ava: Make up your own code, make a list, could be fun

Teddy: I’m not lacking in it right now but I’ll bear the suggestion in mind

Ava: You’re such a voyeur, leave them alone

Teddy: No, don’t be such a bore

Ava: I’m embarrassed on your behalf right now

Teddy: don’t be, darling, you’ll be very lonely feeling like that

Ava: I’m not lonely

Teddy: & I’m yet to be embarrassed

Ava: Mhmm, you’re a medical miracle, or whatever

Teddy: You sound like my mother

Ava: 😂

Ava: Prince Teddy

Teddy: 🤴🏼

Ava: If the crown fits

Teddy: which it does

Ava: I’m surprised you would risk your hair, honestly

Teddy: Ha ha

Ava: I’m so serious, it looks like it must take you ages

Teddy: As if I would have the patience, please

Ava: Don’t worry, if anyone asks, it’s all effortless, naturally

Teddy: No one is going around asking questions they know the answer to

Ava: I think you overestimate some of our classmates

Teddy: okay, true

Ava: I heard [someone we are slightly shading here, soz] asking if the answer to question 2 on [an exam they’ve already done] was [something so horrifically wrong you’re like oh honey no]

Teddy: I can’t wait to see them for re-sits and bring that up

Ava: You could try 🤏

Teddy: Why?

Ava: We won’t have any classes together in September if you don’t get it sorted

Ava: We could revise but you’re there and I know your books are still at home

Teddy: The only revision I do would require you to seduce me & I’m under no illusion you seriously intend to

Ava: Sadly not

Teddy: So have no fun in September without me, while I have plenty

Ava: Rude

Teddy: It’s no one’s fault but your own

Ava: We’re meant to be friends

Teddy: Are we? Oh, that’s awkward

Ava: Yeah, yeah, asshole

Teddy: Always a pleasure, Ava

Ava: Do some revision, I beg

Teddy: Actually beg & I’ll of course consider it

Ava: You don’t reckon you can find someone there to seduce who’s actually smart enough to be of any use?

Teddy: don’t belittle yourself, you’re smart enough

Ava: I know I am

Teddy: that’s better

Ava: And you’re too smart to fail

Teddy: I know I am, but it isn’t about that

Ava: Isn’t it?

Teddy: passing grades aren’t going to upset anyone

Ava: You want to make it as hard as possible for your dad to get you back in for sixth form

Teddy: my motivation in life is to make things as hard as possible for him, it’s an easy spanner to throw in the works

Ava: Gotcha

Teddy: buy another puppy, or get a new closeted girlfriend to be your latest crusade, my exam results aren’t it

Ava: Do you not plan to unattach yourself from the pursestrings one day?

Teddy: Where’s the fun in that?

Ava: I guess so, can’t lose your reason to live

Teddy: I’d have to find a different one, imagine

Ava: Crazy

Teddy: absolutely

Ava: Revision calls

Teddy: 👋

Teddy: Ask me how the holiday’s going

Gia: I made my excuses for a reason…

Teddy: no, ask me

Gia: I don’t need to, get on with it

Teddy: play along

Gia: I am far too busy to babysit you

Teddy: I guarantee you aren’t too busy to listen to me

Gia: Teddy, hurry up, this is tedious

Teddy: G, it’s fantastic

Gia: Oh, he’s done it then, has he

Teddy: You knew?

Gia: James and I talk, like adults

Teddy: You do not, since when?

Gia: Since always

Gia: Well, is daddy pleased?

Teddy: He’s slightly preoccupied pawing girls your age at the bar, but when he comes up for air I’ll ask his thoughts

Gia: Characteristically bad timing as per but at least there will be no baby shower to power through

Teddy: You’re giving J, or your adult chats, a lot of credit

Teddy: I’ve sat through similar screaming before, we all have

Gia: He’s never brought it to our attention before, he obviously means it

Teddy: What did he say to you?

Gia: We were talking about Seb’s ex and lawyers and he said he may be in need of a good one

Teddy: He is, Chlo may be bluffing but she seems to believe she has some secret weapon

Gia: If brains were dynamite, she couldn’t blow her nose

Gia: Still, perhaps she’s a log of his indiscretions

Teddy: Or hers cast some doubt

Gia: Potentially

Gia: I’ll put James in contact with [the lawyer] for real

Teddy: Jay has to be his, but the unborn brat may not be, I highly doubt they’ve been near each other that often since the former

Gia: Well, who can bear to be in her company, it’s understandable

Teddy: He’s been hilariously indiscrete again

Gia: I imagine he wants to get caught

Teddy: She never leaves the house, fucking under her nose couldn’t be made any easier

Gia: Thank you, the rest of us have some pride

Teddy: It’s fear that prompts him, you & I both know that

Gia: I just mean that yours is the sort of plan only a 15-year-old would think even vaguely reasonable

Teddy: If he’d like to get caught he may as well put on a show

Gia: Stop being vulgar or I won’t continue this conversation

Teddy: You said it, Gia

Gia: No, I didn’t

Gia: She won’t get anything, none of it really belongs to them, it’s still all daddy’s, on paper, he made sure of that

Teddy: Please stop calling him daddy that’s much more vulgar & I can’t bear it

Gia: He’s my father I can call him that if I like, there’s nothing wrong with it, you’ve got a sick mind

Teddy: When you get married you’ll have to spare yourself the confusion

Gia: There is no confusion, I’m well-adjusted unlike you

Teddy: Your unfortunate future hubby is how many years away from dementia? He won’t have the first clue who you’re addressing on Sundays

Gia: You are so childish

Teddy: I am a child, allegedly

Gia: A very tiresome one, yes

Gia: whose brain is entirely more addled than Seb’s

Teddy: Hopefully our father’s if he receives another knockback from some girl just trying to sit unmolested with a cocktail

Gia: You’re truly such a fantasist

Teddy: he’s truly a deviant, it’s quite inspiring

Gia: No, he’s not

Gia: and you shouldn’t talk about him like that

Teddy: You shouldn’t be so quick to his defensive all the time, if he leaves mother & has more sons you’ll be even more unloved & unappreciated

Gia: He’s not going to leave her, they are not James and Chloé

Teddy: Only because mother is too heavily sedated to scream

Gia: By her own choosing

Teddy: you should say yes, they’re fantastic pills

Gia: Nothing about her lifestyle appeals

Teddy: Her inherited money appeals

Gia: Daddy has made it tenfold, by actually working

Teddy: He’s traded on her name to have any business contacts in the first place

Gia: You haven’t even passed your GCSEs yet, please don’t try to talk business

Teddy: You’re a girl, I could say the same to you, I’m sure the boardroom is full of men who try to

Gia: It isn’t, actually

Gia: Not all men are pigs like you choose to be

Teddy: it’s clear who I take after in those beliefs

Gia: That certainly fits the narrative you tell yourself

Teddy: good luck trying to erase the narrative whereby daddy dearest was thrilled to hear about your XX chromosomes

Gia: Is there a point to this?

Teddy: I was here to share good news, which you’re being a bore about

Gia: I already knew, James can confide in me

Teddy: Nobody can confide in you, don’t flatter yourself

Gia: Except he did

Gia: and I guarantee daddy likes me more than you now, so, keep trying with these lacklustre attempts, or don’t

Teddy: He asked for a lawyer’s phone number, he was hardly crying on your shoulder

Teddy: you’re his personal Google, that’s all

Gia: Why would I want him to cry on my shoulder?

Gia: You and mother are the ones who like to indulge in that sort of behaviour

Teddy: Because we’re not father’s little worker robot

Gia: She’s a gin-soaked cliche, I’d look for better role models

Teddy: Would you care to take on the role, as you have J’s confidante, despite him barely saying 2 words to you?

Gia: I wouldn’t

Teddy: I thought not

Gia: I have to deal with enough children

Teddy: If you’d date someone your own age it wouldn’t be a problem

Gia: I’m not looking for a life free of problems, this is the real world, you deal with the ones you’re faced with

Teddy: Which women's magazine gave you that hack advice?

Gia: Hilarious

Gia: I’m in love with Seb and I am going to marry him, you’ll have to get over it

Teddy: You’ll marry him, naturally, the rest is nonsense

Gia: No it’s not

Teddy: it is, you don’t love him

Gia: Yes I do, there’s no other reason to be with him

Teddy: Save your breath for needing to resuscitate him

Gia: Are you done?

Teddy: not while I still have some of my own, no

Gia: Why are we talking? This conversation has been fruitless

Teddy: Because you refused your invitation & aren’t here

Gia: I wonder why…

Teddy: Why didn’t you tell me, more importantly?

Gia: Because I don’t tell everyone’s business

Gia: that’s a nasty habit

Teddy: he’s our brother not a neighbour

Gia: He didn’t want anyone knowing until he was ready, which is entirely valid

Teddy: Oops, sorry

Gia: Clearly, his hand was forced

Teddy: by me

Gia: It would likely be her if not

Teddy: or his affair if it’s serious

Gia: It doesn’t matter, the girl has always been bad news, we’re all better off with her far, far away

Teddy: RIP, it was fun while it lasted

Gia: Not the word I would use

Teddy: You & J both love to use words I wouldn’t, it’s only fair

Gia: I dread to think how you’ll fare in your English exams

Teddy: dread is going to be the correct response

Gia: You should be studying

Teddy: no thanks

Gia: It’s entirely irresponsible for you to even be on that trip, why are you there

Teddy: For the fireworks

Gia: Go home, for goodness sake

Teddy: Perhaps, when I get the urge to throw a party

Gia: I can’t be bothered with this nonsense

Teddy: come on, G, you used to have a good time, long long ago

Gia: I have a good time, I’m just not a waste of space

Teddy: you are to me, so that’s subjective

Gia: Your opinion is irrelevant

Teddy: & yours is borrowed, you’re only lacking blue for the wedding, well done

Gia: There are many measures of success, unlike you, my own opinion of myself isn’t the one I focus on

Teddy: Yet you all try & force me down the same tired path

Gia: Please, what is your great idea

Teddy: it would be irrelevant, none of us care remotely for James’ scribblings unless they betray his latest girlfriend

Gia: It’s irrelevant because you don’t have one

Gia: If you had an idea that rivalled the salary, then you could follow that dream, otherwise daddy is just doing you a favour

Teddy: He’s a control freak

Gia: He can hand us all opportunities that we wouldn’t get by ourselves

Gia: You couldn’t handle not having money, trust me, so you do as you’re told and you get looked after

Teddy: I can’t concentrate in that office, how am I supposed to grin & bear it for the next 50 years?

Gia: You’ll learn

Teddy: What if I’m not smart enough?

Gia: You don’t try, Teddy, you could be if you tried

Teddy: or I could humiliate myself

Gia: This whole schtick isn’t not humiliating

Gia: He isn’t evil, there are different roles, levels

Teddy: He thinks I’m useless

Gia: He knows you’re not reaching your full potential, that’s all

Teddy: being the boss’ son doesn’t lend itself to [the lowest level of this company idk, but he genuinely does think that’s all he’s capable of doing at this point]

Gia: No one has to know, you’re focusing on other pursuits as well as, can’t take a more active role, there’s plenty of ways to talk around it

Teddy: No, this makes me feel stupid, I hate it

Gia: You have years, you haven’t finished your GCSEs yet, there’s at least 5 years for you to learn the things you need to

Teddy: you were already working there by then

Gia: Only as an intern, really

Teddy: & James would have if he wasn’t high constantly

Gia: but he was, so

Teddy: I’m a baby as far as our father is concerned, he’d sooner have Jay working at the company

Gia: You just need to prove yourself, it's an opportunity

Teddy: You don’t understand what it’s like

Gia: Obviously I do

Teddy: you can’t do any wrong in his eyes, it’s disgusting

Gia: I just try really hard

Teddy: & it makes you unhappy

Gia: No it doesn’t, it makes me very happy

Teddy: Please, you’re so unfulfilled & you couldn’t resent James more if you tried

Gia: Nothing makes me happier than working for our family company

Gia: I could work somewhere else, if I wanted, I have the skills

Teddy: oh Gia

Gia: Don’t condescend to me

Teddy: this is becoming depressing

Gia: I tried to help you when you were crying

Gia: don’t talk to me about depressing

Teddy: You aren’t helpful to anyone except our father & his propaganda

Gia: And he’s probably right about you, for the record

Teddy: no he isn’t

Gia: Yeah, he is

Teddy: shut up

Gia: Don’t worry, your tiny brain will find all the grunt work really rewarding

Teddy: As rewarding as you find his crumbs of praise, yeah

Gia: I get all the satisfaction I need in doing my job well

Teddy: you 2 are incestuous, it isn’t normal how many of your pleasure centres he activates, in your brain or otherwise

Gia: You have to make it a joke

Teddy: I’m not kidding, go to therapy

Gia: You’re the weirdo for even saying it

Teddy: no, it’s still you, you’re the subject of what I’m saying & I haven’t plucked it from thin air

Gia: You’re making it up to try and make me feel as bad as you

Teddy: Did he touch you or do you simply wish he would? We need to get to the bottom of this

Gia: I don’t want to hear about the things you think about

Teddy: let me stage this intervention, I’d like to help you

Gia: Whatever gay degeneracy this is, you can keep it to yourself

Teddy: I’ve been waiting for you to drop your hard g, as it’s obviously the only ‘weapon’ you feel you have

Gia: No one minds, no one’s disappointed, honestly

Teddy: I’m not gay, put your sequins away, truly

Gia: Right

Teddy: & effeminate is solely an insult to our parents generation, by the way, in case you were planning to go there next

Gia: If you say so, I told you, everyone accepts who you are

Teddy: Sadly, you’re stuck with the last real taboo, no parade for wanting your daddy to be your daddy

Gia: Normal people don’t need parades to feel good about themselves

Teddy: I don’t need a label for you to mock me with

Gia: It’s quite clear without one

Teddy: good, I’d hate to have to spell it out the way our father does when he’s eager to be balls deep in anyone but our mother

Gia: You’re so immature

Teddy: I’m yet to be 16, I’m unlikely to act your preferred age

Gia: There’s nothing preferential about you at all

Teddy: There’s nothing about you full stop, you’re empty

Gia: You don’t interest me, I don’t share anything with you

Teddy: There isn’t anything to share, all you do is work

Gia: That’s all you need to know

Teddy: besides keeping an old man alive until you’re firmly in the will, that’s all there is

Gia: If you like, you’ll never know the truth so live with your lies

Teddy: You’ve buried your truth so deep even you don’t know it, dear sister

Gia: You wouldn’t know it if it bit you on the nose

Gia: everyone knows how untrustworthy a liar you are

Teddy: it unsettles you that I live mine & see yours

Gia: Mhmm, that must be it

Teddy: Yes, I’m sorry for you though

Gia: If there is any figure of pity, it’s you and I wouldn’t even be that generous

Teddy: I’m conveniently right where you want me in order to point the finger at too, how neat & tidy that keeps everything

Gia: Your lacking is your own problem, and nothing but for everyone else

Teddy: Your opinion on what I lack is simply that, your point of view

Gia: We’ll soon have that backed up by your results, won’t we

Teddy: I’m afraid they aren’t for your benefit either

Gia: As you said, the disappointment isn’t going to come as any sort of surprise to our father, not from you

Teddy: The botox renders him incapable of such displays regardless

Gia: Then you’ll be fine

Teddy: My plan to derail his for me is well underway

Gia: As long as you don’t expect anyone to visit you in the gutter

Teddy: You’re too tedious of a guest, please don’t

Teddy: if anyone could ruin the ambience of rock bottom

Gia: I have no need of you in my life, if you don’t work for [the company] then we don’t need to see each other

Teddy: I’m dead to you if I don’t worship at the altar of our family business, it’s been noted

Gia: We have nothing to discuss, all this is unnecessary

Teddy: You’re unnecessary

Gia: Says the spare

Teddy: I’m not the one devastated with my place

Gia: Just your inability

Teddy: I could do something about that, learn & try as you said

Teddy: you’ll never be a real boy, Gia, he’ll never love you the most

Gia: Could you

Teddy: Of course I could, James has an office & his brain is drug-addled

Gia: Mhm

Teddy: I have years, your words of consolation, you have no way of ever proving yourself

Gia: And time will tell

Teddy: I could sleepwalk into James’ role were I inclined

Gia: Yes, you claim to be able to do lots of things you have never and will never do

Teddy: Because I have no interest in doing them

Gia: Right, super believable

Teddy: believe what you want, you’re obviously delusional in terms of your own life

Gia: Sure

Teddy: You’ll find out what I’m capable of

Gia: Boring me to tears seems to be the extent

Teddy: You can’t cry, who are you trying to fool?

Gia: I don’t pride myself on it

Teddy: well no, psychological damage isn’t a source of

Gia: Tell yourself

Teddy: sorry mine’s better than yours

Gia: Yours is imagined and contrived, like every facet of your personality at this point

Teddy: But I have a personality, unlike you

Gia: Effeminate fantasist counts, sure

Teddy: Excuse me while I change my bio across the board

Gia: Goodbye

Teddy: [me loling cos he is going to change his insta info and everything, oh Teddy]

Gia: [my boo says oh you card]

Teddy: [makes me laugh that they always dramatically beef as well, regardless of the starting point]

Gia: [the way she hates y’all lmao]

Teddy: [I don’t blame her remotely, but we should probably post this and do java when we wake up]

1 note · View note

drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 119: Hope

Harry was always alone.

It sounded a bit dramatic, a little pitiable, and more than a little untrue.

Because he was always out with friends. He had pub nights with large groups of people, he went and took those wine and paint classes with Luna and Ginny every other week, and a cooking class with Ron and Pansy on the off week. He met George, Ron, and Seamus for lunch on Thursday afternoons. Hermione dragged him to a book club with Draco once a month. He met Hermione for breakfast on Tuesdays and had dinner with Ron and Hermione every Monday (and often Fridays, too). Neville invited him for tea every Sunday and there was always someone different there with them.

Still, there was something that always separated him from his friends. All of his friends were buying houses, getting married, having babies, getting pets (or in Neville’s case carnivorous plants). And he was just... stuck.

“Well, well,” a smooth baritone voice said behind him, interrupting his sulk at the bar of the Leaky, and a smile tilted up the corner of Harry’s mouth against his will. “If it isn’t the savior himself.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are you going to sit down?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the other man.

Silver eyes gleamed in amusement, “that depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’re going to buy me dinner. It has been a long day.”

(Read more below the cut)

“Oh?” Harry said, nudging the chair next to him back with his toe. “Well it’s a good thing I ordered the shepherd’s pie, then. You and I both know that’s always big enough for two.”

“Were you expecting me then?” Draco asked with a pleased grin as he plopped down in the chair next to him.

“Nope,” Harry said. Strictly speaking, this was true, he’d been hoping the other man might show up but not expecting him to. “I just like to have leftovers.”

Draco laughed at Harry as the bartender slid an old fashioned across the counter to him, “thank you,” Draco said, nodding to the man who all but ignored him.

Harry inhaled to say something about the man’s rudeness (an action he knew was futile since he’d done it several times) but Draco put a hand on his arm and took a sip of his drink. “Not worth it,” he said.

Harry sighed at him, “Tell me about work.”

Draco grinned, it was a sort of grin that Harry used to hate when they were younger. It was a grin that meant Draco had been particularly vicious in the courtroom today. With relish he began telling Harry about the woman and her child whom he had defended against a powerful, abusive husband. How he’d eviscerated the man on the stand and freed the two of them from his grasp.

“It was brilliant,” he finished with a sigh.

“Sounds like it,” Harry replied, resting his cheek in his hand.

Draco gave him a little smile. It had taken a long time to get here, even a year ago Draco would have been looking at him, trying to work out if Harry had meant it sincerely. “Tell me about your day,” he said.

“Oh, you know how it is,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sitting around in board meetings, trying to make sure that the people who actually know something get heard. Watching people who only want what’s best for themselves trying to make people believe they want what’s best for everyone.”

He laughed and took a sip of his drink, “I don’t understand how or why you do it.”

“Well someone’s got to, don’t they?” he asked. “Might as well use my fame to some advantage. Help people. You know,” he said, shrugging one shoulder and picking at the label on his beer.

“Come away with me,” Draco said suddenly.

“Sorry?”

The other man grinned at him, “I’m going on vacation. I’m leaving tomorrow for a week on the beach on an island. Come with me.”

“What? Why?”

The smile that had been so bright a moment ago started to dim, “Nevermind. It’s a stupid idea. Forget I said anyth-”

“Draco,” Harry said, realizing he’d misunderstood. He put his hand on his forearm. “I’d love to. Seriously, I would love nothing more than to go and spend a week on the beach with you. I just,” he trailed off, “why would you want me to?”

“Because you’re always moping. And you’re always doing things for everyone else. And you’re bloody lonely.” He shook his head, “And no one sees it.”

“Except you, apparently,” Harry huffed.

The corner of Draco’s mouth tipped up, “Except me. Come on,” he said.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Potter. Fucking seriously.”

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

The beach was fantastic.

Harry had never been to the beach for a vacation and he enjoyed every sun soaked minute.

Draco watched him with an expression that Harry couldn't entirely parse out. It was amused, and fond, and exasperated, and something else entirely all at once. "I don't get you," Draco said eventually, after they'd spent half the day by the ocean; lounging, swimming, drinking, and laughing.

"What do you mean?"

Draco shrugged and took a sip of his sangria before he continued, "You're wealthy, you have time, you obviously enjoy it here; why haven't you done this before?"

He frowned, "Well who wants to go on a vacation alone?"

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I'd planned to go alone. I have actually taken several vacations alone."

"Sorry, I didn't mean-"

Draco waved him off, "It's fine. I'm not offended I just," he shrugged helplessly, "I find you fascinating."

"You find me fascinating?" he asked incredulously.

"Haven't I always?" he replied wryly.

He huffed but couldn't argue considering that he'd been equally obsessed with the other man for most of their lives at this point.

"You could have done anything," Draco said, "There's nothing that the wizarding world wouldn't have given you. If you'd wanted to go on vacation and not be alone you could have had your pick of witches or wizards who would have gladly gone with you. If you wanted to be married with half a dozen children all you would have needed to do was pick the person." He shook his head, "You could have done anything you wanted, been anything you wanted, had anything you wanted but you've chosen a career that makes you miserable and you've chosen to be alone which makes you miserable." He shook his head again, "I don't get it."

"But how can I know if I'm actually good enough?" Harry asked. "How can I know if I'm good at my job or if it was just given to me because I'm Harry Potter? How can I know if the person who agrees to marry me is with me because I'm me or because I'm Harry Potter?"

"All this time I thought that you weren't on to me," he teased.

He rolled his eyes, "You know what I mean."

"You know what I think?" Draco asked as he leaned back in his beach chair and slipped his sunglasses back in place.

"I couldn't possibly guess," he replied.

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I think you're just scared."

He frowned at the other man even though Draco wasn't looking at him, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me perfectly," he replied, "You're scared."

"Of what?" he asked incredulously.

"Of being loved," he said simply. "Afraid that if you let someone love you, you'll have to let them in. You'll have to let them see all the dark, broken, twisty bits because it's not love if it's not honest."

"Oh and I suppose you're so much better at that," he snapped.

Draco snorted, "Hardly. I'm just willing to live my life until I've found someone who I'll be able to share those jagged pieces with."

He glared at the leg of the other man's chair, "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Alright," Draco replied agreeably.

"I'm going for a walk."

He nodded and yawned, "I think I'm going to take a nap, the sun feels nice."

Harry got up and trudged away without another word, trying to decide if Draco Malfoy was full of shit or if he might just know what he was talking about.

The longer he walked and the more he turned what Draco had said over and over in his head, the more he knew that the only person whom he would trust to see his dark bits was Draco Malfoy.

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

When he got back from his walk Draco was reading a book.

"You might be right," Harry said.

He hummed, "Not to brag but I usually make a point of being right."

Harry collapsed into the sand and stared out at the waves rolling in. "Can I ask you something?"

"Nothing has stopped you so far."

He huffed, "Have you ever been in love."

"Yes," the other man replied.

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

Draco hummed thoughtfully, "I woke up one day and realized that I loved his imperfections more than I loved the perfect image I'd created of him," he said. "I realized that I'm happiest when I'm with him, that he makes me feel brave in my fear and strong in my vulnerability."

"He sounds pretty great," Harry said, swallowing down the bitterness.

"He's also completely oblivious," Draco added. "And normally that would irritate me but his humility is part of his charm."

His heart beat a little quicker, "Is that so?"

Draco grinned, "Yes. And he's not too bad on the eyes, either," he added. "He's got a lovely complexion, fantastic long, dark hair. And his eyes," he let out a low whistle, "A bloke could get lost in those eyes and he wouldn't mind staying in the lovely green of summer."

Harry's mouth went dry and he couldn't quite find any words or summon any courage. Hope blossomed dangerously inside of his chest, expanding and expanding until Harry feared there wasn't room for a shred of doubt.

"He's rather fit, too," Draco continued, giving Harry a once over that even he wasn't oblivious enough to have missed. "And you wouldn't believe his arse," he added, "exquisite."

Harry laughed at that, "You're ridiculous," he said as he bent toward the other man. "I like you, too," he whispered.

"Took you long enough to figure it out," Draco teased.

He reached up and pulled Draco's sunglasses off his face, "I'm going to kiss you," he murmured.

"Took you long enough," he repeated before reaching up to cup Harry's cheek in his palm and draw Harry in.

With a sigh, Harry happily gave himself over to the kiss, over to Draco; knowing that his heart was finally in good hands.

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

Day 118: Glass | Day 120: Tough

#100 drabbles in 100 days #one year of drarry drabbles #fluff #love confessions #friends to lovers #vacation #drarry #drarry ficlet #drarry drabbles #thanks for the prompt

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 3

So I picked option 2 cause I just had more ideas around it. I could probably still do 1 and 3 sometime but this is the direction we're going now. Y/n gets a call from her horrible grandmother who is expecting a visit.

Trigger warning: discussions of emotional and mental abuse, gaslighting

That night at his dining table was the start of something wonderful. You made a point to apply a bit of perfume to your neck before you left your apartment. Your three slightly judgmental but overall supportive roommates even donated a few drops of their own fragrances from time to time.

You didn’t like the sound of the sentence “Hannibal is my boyfriend”. It just didn’t hit your ear right. ‘Boyfriend’ was too childish of a title for him. By extension, he found something very diminutive about referring to you as his girlfriend. You were, of course, a grown woman. He remedied this right away, resigning to call you his ‘darling’. You, however, had to use ‘partner’ as a placeholder until a more suitable pet name presented itself. Although the titles were never stated outright, after a while, you knew it was more than just a passionate affair. Hannibal (and you were calling him Hannibal, now) saw potential in you. He nurtured you and had been since day one.

Finally, things were starting to go your way. You were in classes you loved, had wonderful, supportive friends and a fulfilling relationship. It took over twenty years, but better late than never.

But, if there was one thing you learned from your short stint as a student of physics, it was that what goes up must come down. Your long-awaited bliss was about to be tested by an equal and opposite force bearing the name “Beatrice [L/N]” on the caller ID.

Not only did she call, but she called three times in the middle of your meal. And that was followed by multiple texts, several of which containing words like “emergency” in all caps. You were just trying to enjoy another one of Hannibal’s culinary works of art, but the old bitch was persistent.

You apologetically excused yourself from the table and retreated to the office with your phone.

Grandma, you had better be on your fucking deathbed. You thought to yourself before sliding the green answer icon across the screen.

“[F/N]!” Came her shrill voice. “You finally answered. I was beginning to worry.”

“What do you want, grandma?” You groan.

“I wanted to ask you what you were wearing to Anna’s wedding next weekend.” She explained, calmly as ever. “The color scheme is seafoam and coral and she wants to make sure everyone adheres to it for pictures.”

You covered the speaker with your hand and pulled your phone away from your ear so she couldn’t hear you bite back a scream. It physically pained you to return the phone to your ear. “Yeah, I RSVPed no to Anna’s wedding.”

“[F/N],” Your grandmother said in that scolding tone you knew all too well. “Your cousin expects you to be there. I expect you to be there. I invested so much money into this wedding, I will take it as a personal affront if you don’t attend.”

You take everything as a personal affront. You thought.

“It doesn’t matter, I already said no. She’s not going to have a chair or food for me.” You explained, hoping that you found some way out of this conversation.

“No, she will.” Your grandma corrected. “I won’t have any child of mine absent from another’s wedding. I put in all the work to pull this event together.”

For a moment, you almost felt bad for Anna. Having to endure your grandmother’s micromanaging was a circle of hell even Dante refused to tread.

"Of course, heaven forbid someone in your life show an ounce of autonomy." You finally snapped.

"I don't know why you're acting so rude, but it stops now." Grandma ordered. "I raised you as my own daughter. You should be more grateful for the luxuries I can extend to you. I didn't have to take you in, you know..."

It pained you to stay quiet when all you wanted to say was "I wish you hadn't".

"Your emotional manipulation isn't going to work on me anymore." You informed her.

“So, naturally, I’ve seen to it that you are expected." She continued her own conversation without even acknowledging yours. "You and a plus one, of course.”

You hadn’t even considered the possibility of attending the wedding with Hannibal. The two points never once intersected. And they never would. You vowed that Hannibal would never meet your grandmother or cousins. At that moment, that was the hill you were willing to die on.

“If I come at all, I’m coming alone.” You snap. “You can punish me all you want but I am not letting you get him involved.”

“Him?” Your grandma repeated. “So there is someone?”

“Someone you are keeping me from.” You said, thoroughly frustrated and now panicked at the idea that your grandmother knew Hannibal existed. “Goodbye.”

You didn't want to rejoin Hannibal in such a sour mood, but you didn't want to keep him waiting either. You returned even more apologetically than you left and took your seat.

"Everything alright, love?" He asked. You could tell he was raring to psychoanalyze you.

You shook your head. "It was my grandma."

"I could tell that much." He admitted, beginning to cut into his steak. "What with all the frustration you're trying so desperately to hide. What did she want?"

"She called to tell me she expects me at my cousin's wedding next Saturday." You rolled your eyes. "I'd already declined the invitation, but she didn't like that, apparently."

"Which cousin is this?" He probed. "The one that works as an engineer for Halliburton?

"No, that's Theresa." You shook your head. "And she works for Halliburton, but she's not an engineer. She's a PR executive."

"Right." Hannibal nodded, taking a bite of steak between his teeth. "She took after your grandmother and turned gaslighting into a career."

You smiled a bit. "Right."

"So, it's Anna, then?" He concluded. "You haven't told me much about her. Perhaps she is the benign tumor of the family?"

"More or less." You shrugged. "She works at a publishing agency. Only got the job because her boyfriend's uncle's the CFO. She didn't even make it to the interview. It was pure nepotism."

"And now she's marrying the boyfriend, I presume?"

"Yeah." You felt a grin cross your face thinking about what you were going to say next. "She wasn't even dating him at the time. She was dating someone else and cheating on him with the guy she's marrying now."

Hannibal grinned. "You like knowing this? Having information that could potentially ruin her life?"

You knew there was no use in lying. The look on your face said it all. "Absolutely I do. When you're the black sheep of the family, you've gotta take power where you can get it. Mine just so happens to be potential blackmail."

"I'm quite delighted to be privy to this side of you, love." He smiled. "We're a bit vindictive, now are we?"

"Are you kidding?" You snicker. "These are the girls that psychologically tormented me growing up. Of course I'm vindictive."

"So about this wedding." He didn't look up from his plate. "Do they expect you to bring a date?"

"They do." You nod, your eyes wandering off. "But I can't let them meet you. They're just so unspeakably rude all the time."

For some reason, you felt that this didn't deter him. Perhaps it even compelled him a little. "Oh?"

"They take this really strange pride in making scenes everywhere they go." You explained. "They've already ruined so much of my life. I can't even give them the opportunity to ruin this too."

"Darling," Hannibal leaned in. "Is there a part of you that wants to attend this event?"

You held your tongue before you said anything you both know to be untrue. "...maybe a small part."

"That small part of you that wants power. That wants justice." He nodded. "Indulge it for a moment. What does this wedding look like to you?"

Trying to keep up the illusion that you hadn't thought of this before, you paused for a moment. "...we would show up--you and I--and I'd be wearing a stunning gown that doesn't fit the stupid color scheme at all. And there's just an unspoken knowledge that I could absolutely ruin Anna's entire day. Anna and Theresa and Grandma are all being nice to me because if I so much as mention the name of that boyfriend she cheated on, I'd ruin her life and possibly her career. So finally I hold all the cards."

Hannibal looked proud. He took a sip of his wine. "You want to be powerful, but with just enough restraint so they know you're the bigger person."

"Exactly." You agreed.

"Perhaps my fondness for you is clouding my professional judgment, darling." He put his wine glass down. "The thought of you in an evening gown, commanding attention and reverence... that's just something I have to see."

"...something you have to see?" You met eyes with him, realizing you were on the same page.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket again. This time, you didn't feel the need to step out.

"Hey [F/N], care to explain why my sister is crying?" Theresa snapped through the receiver.

"Is someone cutting onions nearby?" You offered. "That usually makes me tear up."

"Fucking hell, for once in your meaningless life can you care about someone other than yourself?!" Theresa yelled. "Grandma told us you're not coming to the wedding."

You looked back at Hannibal, who gave you a nod. "Actually, I am. We are."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #reader insert #hannibal nbc

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

tabloid bs ~ eminem

word count: 1822

request?: yes!

@imaginesforjohnnydepp “hi! i was wondering if you could do an age gap eminem x reader imagine where the reader is a singer and is the daughter of a very successful actor and singer and there are rumors of her parents not liking marshall making the rounds in the tabloids?”

description: in which she decides to shut down bullshit tabloid rumors regarding her boyfriend and her parents

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (totally legal though, we’ll say the reader is about 25)

masterlist (one, two)

Being the daughter of two incredibly famous actors meant you were in the spotlight from a young age. Paparazzi, crazy fans, fake friends, none of it was new to you by the time you decided you wanted to try your hand in singing.

You were nervous at first, worrying that either you’d only blow up because of who your parents were, or that everyone would shut down your career because of who your parents were. You were happily surprised to learn that everyone genuinely liked you and your music, despite your parentage.

As your career began to skyrocket, you were contacted by none other than Eminem asking to make a song with you. Apparently he was so impressed by your talent that he wanted to get in contact with you and ask you himself for a collab, something that he only did with people who ended up becoming close friends of his (Skylar Grey, Rihanna, 50 Cent, Ed Sheeran, etc. etc.).

You ended up following this trend, except in a much more extreme way. You did end up becoming close with him, but not as just a friend. Within a month of doing your collaboration you found yourself going on a date with Marshall, and within a year you were basically living with him.

The press had a field day when they found out. You were 20 years younger than Marshall, and he was only two years younger than your mom. Of course people didn’t react to kindly to this at first, but it wasn’t as hard to ignore these things as you expected it to be.

The thing that was hard to ignore, though, was the constant stories that were published about your parents hating Marshall, and hating your relationship.

This couldn’t be farther from the truth. Your parents loved Marshall, both as a musician and as their daughter’s boyfriend. Your dad and Marshall got along really well, and your mom basically viewed him as a new best friend from the moment he walked through the door.

These rumors were harder to ignore when they were brought up so often in interviews and during livestreams or Q&As. You were starting to get annoyed with it and you wanted to make it stop.

Lucky for you, the person interviewing you at that moment gave you the perfect segway to shutting those rumors down.

“I know this is a bit of a private topic,” she started, “and if you don’t want to talk about it we can just move on, but there’s something circulating in the rumor mill regarding you and your boyfriend.”

“Of course there is,” you said, rolling your eyes in a playful manner. You were trying to remain lighthearted about it all, but you were feeling the annoyance bubble up inside of you already.

“There’s a story going around that you blew off your dad’s birthday because he wouldn’t let you bring Eminem to the celebration.”

You felt your face heating up with anger. Oh, so now the media was trying to present you as a bratty singer now too? Saying you skipped your own father’s birthday due to your boyfriend?

No, they were not getting away with that one.

You pulled your phone from your pocket and quickly opened it. The interviewer looked at you in confusion as you scrolled through your pictures before holding your phone towards the nearest camera.

“Here’s a picture of me and my dad two days after his birthday,” you said. “It was taken by Marshall, because the three of us had a special celebration alone. My flight home was delayed and I had to miss my dad’s actual birthday, in which my boyfriend was actually invited to, by the way. Dad specifically asked if Marshall would be coming, even jokingly told me that I had to take him. So no, I didn’t purposely miss my dad’s birthday because of my boyfriend, I would never miss dad’s birthday on purpose.”

“All you had to say was no,” the interviewer mumbled, regarding her notes to move along to the next question.

“No,” you said. “I’m not keeping this one short and sweet. I’m tired of all these stupid, untrue things being said about me and my boyfriend and my parents. Mom and dad don’t hate Marshall, I don’t purposely not see my parents because of him. There’s no hate at all between any of us, and it makes me angry that tabloids make those accusations without any evidence just for clicks. This is someone’s real life, not just some fiction for someone to fuck around with.”

“You sound very passionate about this.”

You scoffed. “Of course I am! Ever since Marshall and I have started dating people have been saying shit about him and my parents and I don’t understand why. There’s never been any ill will between my parents and Marshall, not even any implied ill will. People just like to make up stories so they have a good headline to get views and get people talking.”

“Well, although nothing has been ever been confirmed, you can’t say you don’t understand where those rumors came from. No one wants their kid dating someone who is basically their age, no matter how famous that person is. It’s only natural for a parent to be protective over their kid, especially from such an older person that may just be taking advantage of them.”

Your eyes were wide with shock. You could barley believe what this bitch was saying. She was really trying to spin the story and say that Marshall was trying to take advantage of you, a literal 25 year old adult?

You stood from my chair then and began trying to pull the microphone off of yourself. The interviewer looked at me with concern before trying to stop you.

“I’m done here,” you declared, pulling at the wire once I found it.

“You’re going to break the mic!”

“Send the bill to my people,” you retorted. “I’m not sitting here and having someone tell me that the guy I’m dating is trying to take advantage of me just because he’s older, or hearing you spill some bullshit about my parents. Newsflash: if someone is happy publicly with their relationship, then maybe they’re actually happy. No tragic behind the scene stories or ulterior motives, just two adults who are in love.”

You finally got the microphone off and basically threw it at the interviewer before turning and leaving the room.

~~~~~~

You stayed at Marshall’s place that night, still partially fuming from the interview. You didn’t tell him specifics (especially not that you walked out in a fury the way you did), but you told him it didn’t go well.

You were awoken the next morning to your phone ringing. When you checked it, you saw your dad’s face and name light up your screen. You groaned when you noticed how early the time was before answering. “Hello?”

“Good morning sweetie,” came your dad’s voice. “Have you been online yet?”

“I haven’t even been out of bed yet,” you responded. “Why? What’s going on?”

“You’re trending for walking out of your interview.”

You sat up in the bed so quickly that it woke Marshall. He rolled over and looked at you in confusion as you put your dad on speaker and started frantically opening your Twitter app.

“Dad, you’re on speaker. Marshall is here,” you told him as you started looking.

“Good morning, Marshall,” your dad said.

“Morning,” Marshall responded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What’s going on that has (Y/N) wide awake at 8am?”

“She’s trending.”

“For what?”

There it was, your name at the top of the trending list. When you clicked on it, the first thing that popped up was your interview from the day before.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “I can’t believe they actually posted. It was so bad, I thought they’d just delete the footage and never think of it again.”

“You think too highly of people looking for a good scoop, honey.”

The title of the video read Singer (Y/F/N) Goes Off On Interviewer while Talking About Parents and Boyfriend Eminem. The entire interview was included, luckily enough, including everything leading up to your storm out. Marshall watched over your shoulder as your dad waited, silently, for you to see it all.

“You didn’t tell me what was said,” Marshall said. “Why didn’t you tell me they were saying that shit to you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you responded. “I mean, it did matter, but by the time I got here I didn’t think it would matter anymore. Like I said, I thought the footage would be deleted and long forgotten.”

You were nervously biting at your nails as you scrolled through Twitter to see what people were saying. You were expecting a wave of hate and people believing that you truly were a bratty singer, until you started to see how much praise and love you were getting.

“Imagine trying to frame (Y/N) as the bad one in this situation when the interviewer literally said Eminem is trying to take advantage of her”

“Never believed those rumors about (Y/N)’s parents and Eminem. They’re all too tightknit for (Y/N) to date someone her parents hate”

“The way she told the interviewer to bill her for the broken mic that’s QUEEN SHIT”

“It doesn’t seem too bad,” you said as you continued to read. “A lot of people on my side.”

“Oh, I knew no one was against you on this one,” your dad said. “I just wanted to let you know you’re trending, and let you know I’m proud of you for finally putting an end to those rumors. It was getting really tiresome to read why I hated Marshall on any given day.”

You chuckled slightly. “Thanks dad. I’ll call you and mom later. Love you.”

“Love you, too, honey.”

Your dad hung up and you decided it would be for the best to put your phone away for a while. Even though you weren’t getting any negative attention for this, you were still overwhelmed by the fact that the interview went up at all.

You settled back into bed beside Marshall, taking your place in his arms where you loved to be the most.

“I’m proud of you, too,” he said, kissing your forehead. “I didn’t realize my girl was so badass.”

“Yes you did.”

“Maybe I did.” You giggled as you nuzzled your head into his chest more. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“Of course I know, babe. Don’t let that shitty interviewer and her bullshit get to you.”

“Oh she’s not,” he said. “I’m well aware your parents love me and I’m not taking advantage of you. I just wanted to remind you.”

I chuckled and shook my head. Shortly after, I drifted off to sleep, feeling proud of myself for what I had done.

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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the-lone-witch-and-secret-room · 3 years

Text

On Boschlow, Skarlow and imaginary moral superiority

Alright, before anyone wants to yell at me for putting this in the ship tags, this is less an “anti ship”-post and more of an “I want to have this conversation with shippers because I think it’s important to talk about this”-post.

So, Boschlow has always been a fairly popular ship in the fandom, which doesn’t really surprise me, because the whole bully/victim dynamic is just incredibly popular, no matter which fandom you enter.

As a person that got bullied throughout the majority of my high school years, I have thoughts about this dynamic being so popular in general, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss today.

Recently, there has been an increasing number of Skarlow shippers making art and writing fics.

What makes this so different from Boschlow?

Essentially... nothing, and that’s exactly why I felt the need to make a post about this.

I’ve seen a bunch of Skarlow shippers say they do not ship Boschlow because Boscha is an awful person, putting themselves above the Boschlow shippers and making Skarlow a “superior” dynamic, based on... what, exactly?

From my perspective, there’s exactly two things Skara has on Boscha when it comes to shipping her with Willow. One being, she hasn’t thrown trash on her—which is an incredibly low bar to set.

The other thing? Skara acknowledged Willow’s Grudgby skills at the end of WILW.

And that’s a scene that gets misinterpreted a lot. See, people take Skara being nice to Willow here as a sign that she’s a way better person than Boscha, that she’s changed, and so on and so forth.

But this is untrue.

What exactly is it that changes between the beginning of WILW and the ending of the episode, between Willow and Skara specifically? It’s that Skara has seen Willow is good at Grudgby. Grudgby is something of value to Skara, thus, Willow’s skills impressing her makes Willow someone worthy of being treated well.

The ending of the Grudgby episode isn’t everyone except Boscha suddenly magically being better people. They’re all still very much bullies. They’re just now seeing Willow as someone who is better than other people because of her skills—and should therefore be treated better.

Boscha isn’t as willing to share her imaginary pedestal with Willow. But that’s the only difference. All the Grudgby girls are currently still on that pedestal. They’re just seeing Willow as someone worth sharing it with now. If they saw someone being “weak” the way they thought Willow to be previously to the match, they’d bully that person the same way they did Willow.

This isn’t any of them being better. This is all of them behaving the same way they always have. Willow is just moving up in their social hierarchy.

It shouldn’t take being good at some magical sport, or being a talented witch, or whatever the heck, to decide not to bully someone. NOBODY deserves to be bullied. Even the weakest, least sporty witch of the Boiling Isles should be treated with the same amount of respect as any of their classmates. Your value as a person shouldn’t be defined by how good you are at something. You have value no matter what you are and aren’t good at. And that’s something Skara and the others still fail to acknowledge.

Also I think it’s worth noting that even when they were treating Willow better at the end of the episode, they didn’t go out of their way to apologize for how they’d treated her before. They acknowledged her skills and don’t at all comment on how they treated her previously to the match.

If it takes some huge effort from Willow and her friends for the Grudgby girls to treat her with even an ounce of respect, that’s not character development. Character development would be them changing their general behavior. Acknowledging the way they’ve treated others was shitty, apologizing for that and actually working on being better. Is there a possibility this might happen? Sure. But you guys basically pretend WILW is their redemption arc already fully done. You’re giving Skara and the others credit for something that currently haven’t even happened.

And the option of them ditching Boscha (which also currently hasn’t happened) wouldn’t be a redemption arc either, even if it could be part of one.

Cutting toxic people out of your life can help, but Amity’s redemption arc was that, plus her explaining herself to Willow and giving Willow time, and actually acting on her word of not letting her friends pick on her again. Amity making it up to Willow wasn’t that she cut out Boscha and Skara. It was that she not only promised to be better but acted accordingly, standing at Willow’s side when she needed her.

(And Skara not constantly being a dipshit when she’s in the background is not a valid argument for why she’s a better person than Boscha. Boscha is also a harmless character when the episode isn’t focused on her, e.g. in Covention & Sense and Insensitivity. That Skara isn’t actively bullying her friends—which, uh, most people like their friends? This shouldn’t be that surprising?—is not a thing that should earn her any points in being “nicer” than Boscha.)

Do I think it might be a bit easier to get through to Skara than Boscha when it comes to letting go of current behaviors? Possibly.

From the way their characters are written and with how Boscha refuses to acknowledge Willow as equal even after the Grudgby match, it’s fairly obvious that it would need some pretty major event to get through to her. There’s an extra step here with Boscha (needing to learn to acknowledge others as having equal value to herself) that Skara doesn’t need to take.

BUT that one step in what should be a fairly long journey for either of them is far from enough to justify one ship being better than the other.

From the way I’ve seen it written (and unfortunately also experienced it in the comment section of my own fic), a bunch of skarlow shippers like to excuse Skara’s behavior by entirely pinning it on Boscha, pretending she’s actually a great person and that it’s only her friendship with Boscha that makes her toxic—and also that Boscha is the only one that should be held accountable for everyone’s behavior.

I am not exaggerating, I got a comment that essentially said “this shows wonderfully that Amelia and Skara are actually good people that unfortunately met a horrible person that had too much control over them.”

This strips Skara and Amelia of any accountability for their actions. And the idea of Boscha being an evil mastermind that forced all her friends into doing things they never wanted is... quite frankly, stupid, and also untrue. Skara actively encourages Boscha making fun of Willow at the beginning of Understanding Willow:

In the same episode it’s also stated that Amity “let her new friends bully [Willow] for years”, which definitely includes Skara and isn’t just about Boscha.

Skara looks really pleased when Boscha takes Willow’s hair clip at the beginning of WILW, just appears bored and not at all sympathetic when she throws gum at Willow, and grins gleefully when Boscha suggests using the others as target practice later in the episode:

Also, in Once Upon A Swap, Boscha’s entire squad is messing with people all over Bonesborough. Skara is throwing monster balloons at the city when Boscha isn’t even present:

Not only that, but a very large portion of the episode has Skara and the others literally ditch Boscha in favor of an even meaner person (King in Luz’s body).

King states, and I quote, “Hey, impressionable youths! Under my command, you could learn how to do some real damage.” after unleashing a monster on the city. And the entire group cheers him on and decides to follow him.

If Skara was actually so much better than Boscha, why the heck would she run after someone that is worse than her when given the opportunity?

And here comes the thing that a lot of the Skarlow shippers refuse to acknowledge because they for some reason feel the need to have moral superiority over Boschlow shippers: Skara isn’t a nice girl. Skara is a bully. And Skara should be held accountable for her actions in the same way as Boscha. Saying everything she did was just Boscha forcing her is entirely untrue to canon and just a lame excuse to make your ship look better.

Boscha and Skara have both bullied Willow for several years. If you want to ship either of them with her, even if you just want one of them to be friends with her, that needs to be acknowledged and definitely not excused. Even if you treat Skara’s bullying of Willow as something she did only due to Boscha (which, again, is canonically complete nonsense), she’s still hurt Willow to pretty much the same extent as Boscha has.

That a person isn’t as into the bullying as someone else doesn’t make it hurt any less for the victim of the bullying.

No matter if you ship Skarlow or Boschlow, commit to the reality that Skara and Boscha are both Willow’s bullies. Quit pretending Skara is so much better than Boscha, or that she isn’t responsible for her actions.

She is just as responsible for bullying Willow for years as Boscha is.

I’m so sick of hearing how Skara’s bullying is far more redeemable than Boscha’s. It’s not. Stop declaring bullying that doesn’t get physical harmless. As someone who was “only” ever verbally bullied, let me tell you that after four years of not seeing that person I’m still scarred by it. Stop getting your head so stuck in high school movies. Just because not every kind of bullying involves someone getting shoved into a locker doesn’t mean it’s not harmful.

Even worse: the take that people are shipping Skarlow “because they realized shipping Willow with Boscha is inherently toxic”. Tell me again why this “revolutionary” movement deciding that Willow deserves better then turns around and ships her with another one of her bullies?

This isn’t about treating Willow better. You’re just making Boscha seem unreasonably evil for no reason, and treating Skara as her not at all responsible victim, so you can ship Willow with her and don’t have to acknowledge that Willow is a victim of both of their bullying.

This needs to stop. Skara needs to be held just as accountable as Boscha.

If a Skarlow shipper exclusively comes from a perspective of “I think their personalities would mix better”? Sure, whatever, they may or may not, but that’s a valid opinion to have. But don’t start shipping Skarlow because you think you’re being better to Willow than the Boschlow shippers.

This whole thing isn’t a movement to get Willow a better girlfriend, lol

Both of them bullied her. Both ships are bully/victim dynamics. Skarlow does not actually have any moral superiority over Boschlow. As much as you refuse to acknowledge this, these two ships share the same basic dynamic.

Stop pretending shipping Willow with one of her bullies is leagues better than shipping her with another.

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