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requiemforthepoets · 5 months ago

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the underdog 𖦹 CL16

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fencer!leclerc!reader , f1 grid x fencer!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY: despite being a talented fencer, you were still considered as an underdog, but you are here to prove everyone wrong.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s my first time doing something like this, and i apologize on my dry humor…but i hope you still enjoy this though.

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: typos

FACE CLAIM: maxine esteban and others on pinterest, but mostly maxine esteban.

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl and 578,982 others

ynleclerc 2022-2023 was one hell of a ride.

This past year has been a never ending whirlwind of challenges and triumphs. From the devastating ACL tear and the subsequent surgery that threatened my fencing career to the grueling recovery process that tested my limits, it has been a journey of resilience, determination, and unwavering support. After six months of rehabilitation, I am beyond thrilled to share that I have received medical clearance to return to competitive sports.

However, that’s not all. I have been keeping this secret for a while now, one that I have cherished and guarded closely, even from my family. Today, I am proud to announce that I am switching my fencing nationality from Italy to Monaco. This decision has been a deeply personal and emotional one, driven by my love to Monaco, my home, and the desire to represent Monaco on the global stage.

I owe a debt of gratitude to my former team for shaping me into the athlete I am today. Now, as I embark on this new chapter representing Monaco, I carry with me the lessons and memories that have defined my journey so far.

Je suis heureux (se) de vous annoncer mon changement de nationalité sportive, passant de l'Italie à Monaco. C'est une décision qui me remplit de fierté et d'un profond sentiment d'appartenance. Merci à tous ceux qui ont rendu cela possible et qui continuent à me soutenir dans cette nouvelle aventure 🙌🏻

I am thrilled for what lies ahead and am setting my sights on qualifying for Paris 2024. Together, let's write the next chapter of this incredible journey. Merci infiniment. 🇲🇨🤺❤️

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pascale.leclerc.355 C'est une nouvelle très excitante, mon chéri ! Je suis impatiente de te voir aux Jeux Olympiques représentant Monaco! ❤️🇲🇨 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc Merci maman pour ton soutien sans fin!! Je t'aime tellement!! 😭❤️

username1 OUR FAVORITE LECLERC REPRESENTING MONACO!! 🙌🏻

username2 OMG imagine if y/n won a medal in the Paris 2024, she’ll be the first one to win a medal for Monaco in the olympics!! 😭❤️

username3 charles winning the monaco gp and y/n winning the olympics 2024, imagine the POWER. prince and princess of Monaco 👏🏻

username4 MANIFESTING PARIS 2024!! 🗣️

carlossainz55 Vamos, y/n!! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

scuderiaferrari Congratulations to our favorite Leclerc!! ❤️❤️❤️ ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

charles_leclerc I can’t believe that I’ll find out this amazing news online?! Félicitations à notre petite sœur! Je sais que tu vas faire des merveilles, tu es une formidable escrimeuse. Il n'y a aucun doute que tu te qualifieras pour Paris 2024! Nous t'aimons tellement ❤️ ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc tbf, i never told a single soul abt this, and it was really hard keeping it from you guys!!! But thank you so much, charlieee 🥺❤️ ♥︎ liked by charles_leclerc

pierregasly Secure that gold medal! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username5 i’m a new fan of f1 and i just found out that charles has a younger sister?!

username6 yes! she’s the youngest of the leclercs and she’s a fencer!! there’s a thread about her on the x app!!!

haterusername1 she’s gonna be losing left and right. italy is at the top of the game when it comes to fencing, this transfer is literally a bad move for her lmao can’t wait to see her lose lol

TWITTER POST

ynleclerc

liked by pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 465,323 others

ynleclerc new season, same dream. 🤺🇲🇨 let’s go! ❤️🔥

view all 12,838 comments

pascale.leclerc.355 Je suis tellement excitée, mon cher! Faisons honneur à nous-mêmes et à Monaco! 🇲🇨💕 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc Merci maman, je t'aime!! ❤️

landonorris PARIS 2024 HERE WE COME!! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc hold your horses there, norris. i have yet to win the championships 😂

landonorris already claiming and manifesting it

username7 OLYMPIAN Y/N LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO

username8 MANIFESTING SO HARD FOR THE QUALIFYING

username9 if she qualifies for Paris 2024, i’m shaving my eyebrows ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username10 NOT Y/N LIKING THE COMMENT 😭😭😭

username9 QUEEN I- 😭😭😭

haterusername2 she’ll be demolished by the other fencing team, knowing that the monaco’s fencing team are weak. haven’t even won any medals in the olympics lol, as if she’ll be able to qualify in the Paris 2024 🤥🫠

haterusername3 totally agree! not all these people hyping her up just bc she is some famous person’s sister. tbh, her fencing is literally average.

username10 omfg shut up you boomers. bet a hundred bucks that you cant’t even do what she does LMFAO speaking as if you have fenced in your whole life.

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 687,943 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and scuderiaferrari

ynusername supporting my fav ferrari bros charles_leclerc & carlossainz55 before heading off to Cairo. Forza Ferrari! ❤️

view all 15,839 comments

scuderiaferrari it was such an honor to be graced by your presence, our favorite ferrari girl! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc I had a very amazing time. thank you, ferrari! ❤️

landonorris WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME YOU’LL BE ATTENDING THE GP 😭 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc SORRY I FORGOT TO TELL YOU OMG 😭 I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU NEXT TIME!!

oscarpiastri I thought you’re team papaya 😔 heart been broke too many times 💔 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc i’m so sorry my nephew 😔💔

oscarpiastri we’re the same age 😐

ynleclerc but you’re my bro’s child 😔 btw, say hi to lily for me!! miss hanging out with her.

oscarpiastri will do 👍🏻 lilyzneimer y/n says hi and told me that she missed hanging out with you

username11 OSCAR WTF 😭😭😭

mclaren pls be in our garage next time 😔💔 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

scuderiaferrari back off sis, she’s ours ✋🏻😐

username12 not ferrari and mclaren fighting for her in the comsec 😭

fencing_fie

liked by ynleclerc, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 987,745 others

tagged: ynleclerc, paris2024, olympics

fencing_fie On her way to Paris 2024, ynleclerc is inspiring the next generation in 🇲🇨

view all 36,873 comments

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 1,673,992 others

ynusername I can’t stop crying. We did it kids.

OFFICIALLY QUALIFIED FOR THE PARIS OLYMPICS 🇲🇨🥹❤️

Qualifying for the Paris 2024 Olympics is another check in my list, and representing Monaco makes it even more special. This journey has been long. Series of heartbreaks and tears, some milestones…but whatever happens, I am happy and thankful to be where I am right now and meet such wonderful people around the world.

To my family. Maman, Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur, thank you for never giving up on me and my dreams. For sticking with me through thick and thin, especially during the challenging times after my ACL tear and surgery, I know that I was unbearable that that time, crying 24/7 because I kept on thinking that it might be the end of my career, but your love and encouragement has been my strength. To my medical team, thank you for pushing me in getting back on my feet and giving me chance to chase my dreams once again.

Le plus beau des rêves se réalise aujourd’hui. Merci à tous pour votre soutien. Je suis prêt pour ce nouveau chapitre!

Love, y/n 🤍

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scuderiaferrari CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR FAV FERRARI GIRL!!! ❤️🔥

ynleclerc thank you, admin 🥺❤️

lilymhe i know that i might be beheaded by my own country, BUT FUCK IT LETS GO MONACO!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username13 OMF LILY 😭😭😭

mclaren WAY TO GO Y/N!! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username10 how are we feeling today? better prepare your eyebrow username9

username9 already prepared and accepted that i’ll be shaving my eyebrows ✊🏻

ynleclerc tag me when you do it…JK pls don’t!! i don’t want your mom to be angry at me 😭

username9 OMSJDJEJDJWKDK

landonorris SEATED. READY. FRONT ROW. ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username14 BOOKED MY FLIGHT TO PARIS FOR THE OLYMPICS, CANT WAIT

username15 MOTHER.

francisca.cgomes YESSSS GIRL YOU GOOOOOOOOOO 🙌🏻🔥💪🏻 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

alexandrasaintmleux congratulations!!! we are all behind you!! 🇲🇨 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

lilyzneimer oscar and i are ready, we will be there!!! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

arthur_leclerc YEEEEEEEES congratulations, petite soeur! celebration is in order 😁🥳�� ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and 2,473,973 others

tagged: ynleclerc

charles_leclerc I can’t believe it, our petite soeur just qualified at Paris 2024!

Remember when you first picked up a fencing foil, nearly took out the living room lamp and maman getting angry 😂 all of us knew that you are destined for greatness right then and there (or at least destined to break a lot of household items). Fast forward to today, screaming your heart out in victory, making us all incredibly proud!

I’m so excited to see you compete in Paris 2024. I know you’ll do great. Congratulations, superstar! You made us all proud. Let’s get ready for Paris!

OUR BABY SISTER MADE IT TO THE OLYMPICS!

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ynleclerc YOURE MAKING ME CRY AGAIN 😭 thank you, charlie. love you!!! 🥹🫶🏻 ♥︎ liked by charles_leclerc

lewishamilton Congratulations, ynleclerc! I know you’ll do everyone and Monaco proud! 💪🏻❤️ ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc thank you so much, sir lewis!

georgerussell63 Congratulations! Carmen and I will be there in support! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

pierregasly gold medal secured in the bag! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username16 PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF MONACO! 🇲🇨

username17 charles and y/n making monaco proud!! 😭❤️

username18 the moment y/n wins the olympics, prepare to be sick of me. PREPARE TO BE SICK OF ME!!!!!

398 notes · View notes

xthejazzdalorianx · 3 months ago

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Kindred Souls (One-Shot)

pairing(s): Erik (Magneto) Lehnsherr x Telekinetic!Mutant!Female!Reader

warning(s): EXPLICIT SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, angst, SMUT, fluff, yearning, angst, fluff, p in v sex, reverence, and romance. Erik is rude as hell, but he warms up anyway. Oh yea, edging, too.

a/n: credit to my coworker for the title name, but i hope y’all enjoy this one! this would be my second fan fiction that i have ever written so please let me know if you have any tips & tricks or if you would like to see more! <3

word count: 4.1k

- - - - - - -

summary: In this story, Erik, struggling with Charles' death and his new role as X-Men leader, faces unresolved feelings for you. Your sudden return after ten years rekindles their deep connection, leading to a heartfelt confrontation about love and regret. The story ends with an intimate reunion that symbolizes healing and growth, as Erik seeks forgiveness and you offer unwavering support, setting the stage for a shared future.

- - - - - - -

It was evening in New York at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and the air was cool and crisp with a hint of winter. The mansion, usually bustling with activity, was eerily quiet since Charles' passing. Outside, the city slept in blissful ignorance of the heavy decisions weighing on Erik's shoulders.

The sky above the mansion was a deep shade of indigo, the street lamps casting a soft golden glow on the surrounding buildings. The bare trees rustled in the crisp breeze, their branches casting long, spindly shadows across the quiet grounds. The mansion itself was a grand, old-fashioned building, its windows dark and silent.

Before he died, Charles had left a will with a profound request: that if anything were to happen to him, Erik would take over as leader of the X-Men and continue their mission to create harmony between humans and mutants. Though Erik wasn't sure if he still believed in this vision, it was something he cared deeply about. Charles had been more than just a friend; he was like a brother. And it was Charles who had seen the depth of Erik's feelings for you.

You were the light that brightened Erik's life, and your absence has left a void that he struggles to fill. The pain of losing you lingers like a shadow, a constant reminder of what once was. He buries his emotions deep inside, masking them with a facade of strength and control, but they never truly go away.

Erik now goes by Magneto, embracing the name as a symbol of power and dominance. It shields him from the world and makes him feel invincible. But at the same time, it creates a barrier that prevents him from facing his own vulnerability. His helmet serves as both a shield from external noise and a cage that keeps him isolated from his own feelings.

- - - - - - -

Sitting in Charles' old wheelchair, its leather worn and creaky under his weight, Magneto stared at his helmet. The metallic surface reflected the dim light of the room as he let out a heavy sigh, conveying the weariness in his soul.

He reached out, his fingertips brushing the cool metal of the helmet. With a flick of his wrist, it rose into the air, spinning slowly before his eyes. The power coursed through him, as natural as breathing, yet it brought him no comfort.

"What would you do, old friend?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper in the empty room. The silence that answered was deafening.

He was facing a harsh reality: he had lost your love and with it, a part of himself. His determination to fight for mutant rights often felt hollow without you by his side. The X-Men, who had once seen him as an enemy, now looked to him for guidance with a mix of suspicion and hope. He couldn't blame them; his actions in the past had been driven by his own relentless pursuit of power and control.

Despite the mistrust and fractured mission, Erik clung to Charles' vision. Though it may have faded over time, he still believed that mutants deserved equality, respect, and a chance at peaceful coexistence with humanity. It was a dream that seemed just as distant as the warmth he once found in your embrace.

Leaning back in the wheelchair, Magneto tried to focus on plans for the X-Men, but his mind kept drifting back to you. The plans seemed insignificant compared to the memories of your laughter and touch. As he attempted to steer his thoughts back towards the future he was trying to build, the weight of his emotions bore down heavily on him. The road ahead felt isolating and uncertain, but for Charles, for the X-Men, and for the hope of a better world, he would continue forward - no matter how shattered his heart may feel.

The door creaked open and shut quietly as you stepped into the room. For a moment, everything seemed frozen in time. It had been ten years since you last laid eyes on each other, and seeing Erik in the dim light of the study felt almost surreal. Your heart raced with uncertainty as you questioned whether this moment was real or simply a figment of your imagination.

- - - - - - -

"Erik?" Your voice was a hesitant whisper filled with a mix of emotions - uncertainty, longing, and the weight of years apart.

Erik's head whipped around upon hearing his name, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his face. For a moment, he thought he must be dreaming, but as he turned to fully face you, the reality of your presence was undeniable. His expression hardened into a mask of controlled stoicism, a defense mechanism honed from years of guarding his heart.

"What are you doing here?" Erik's voice remained steady, but a hint of vulnerability seeped through. "I wanted to be alone, and you have no right to call me that." His frown deepened, his emotions threatening to break through the carefully crafted facade he tried so hard to maintain.

As you laid eyes on him, the tension between you seemed palpable, almost visible in the air. His rigid stance and guarded expression were like a shield, shielding him from the emotions that threatened to break through.

Erik's body language spoke volumes - his stiff posture, the slight tensing of his jaw, the way he avoided making direct eye contact. He seemed to be trying to hold his emotions in check, but his eyes betrayed him, revealing a mix of longing and pain.

"I heard about Charles," you said softly, your heart aching for him. "I came to see how you're doing. The X-Men are worried about you, and I know how much he meant to you..." Your eyes were filled with sadness as you spoke, reaching out for him despite his attempt to push you away. You wanted to offer comfort, but hesitated, unsure of how he would react.

Magneto scoffed at your concern, his face a blend of disbelief and anger. He couldn't help but wonder: Did you truly care about Charles, or was there another reason for your return? What was your true agenda? "Why are you really here?" His voice held a hint of frustration, but beneath it lay a vulnerability he could barely acknowledge.

You were taken aback by his coldness, but took a deep breath before responding. "I'm here for both you and the X-Men, Erik." You paused before correcting yourself, "Magneto." Lowering your gaze briefly before looking back up at him, you continued, "Just because we have history doesn't mean I don't still care about you."

“You walked away,” he spat, his words stinging like a whip. “And now you're not my responsibility anymore.” His tone was harsh and sharp, piercing through your heart, but you knew it was just a mask to hide the pain you had caused him. You could feel the hurt that lingered from your departure, and while you understood his anger, you couldn't help but wonder if he was also struggling with his own unresolved emotions. Was he trying to come to terms with why you had left? Beneath his calm facade, you sensed a tempest of emotions brewing, but you weren't sure if he was ready to confront them.

You took a hesitant step forward, drawn towards the comforting warmth of the fireplace near his desk. He watched you closely, tracking your every move. As you gazed into the crackling flames, you tried to gather your thoughts and find the right words to address the past.

Turning back to face him, your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to speak. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you looked away, unwilling to show him your vulnerability. “I left because I wanted a future with you,” you said softly, barely above a whisper. “I wanted us to have a family together. But then things changed...you started hurting people, Erik. You scared me…” Your voice trailed off as you wrapped your arms around yourself, unable to contain the weight of your emotions any longer.

Erik's expression softened as he placed the helmet on the desk and stood up from Charles' wheelchair. He walked towards you with purpose, his footsteps slow and deliberate. Gently, he lifted your chin to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, liebling," he said, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability.

- - - - - - -

As tears slowly rolled down your cheeks, Erik tenderly brushed them away with a gentle touch. "I wish you had told me," he whispered regretfully. "But I understand now why you left. I thought I was doing what needed to be done..." His voice trailed off as he searched for answers and a connection that he believed was lost forever.

His hand moved to rest against your cheek, and you leaned into it, closing your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat at his presence. "I know...my love," you said softly, filled with tenderness.

Erik's eyes widened as the word "love" fell from your lips. It was a word he hadn't heard in years, and it brought back memories that still haunted him. He struggled to find the right words, his heart racing at the thought of finally admitting his feelings for you. He opened his mouth several times, but no sound came out. After a few moments of silence, he managed to choke out, "Why...now?" He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. "Why are you telling me this now?" Despite the distance and time that had passed since they were together, his love for you had never truly gone away. It had always been there, even amidst his strong dedication to mutant rights.

You were at a loss for words. Your mind was buzzing with thoughts, unsure of what words to form or if you should even say anything at all.

He cautiously stepped closer, closing the gap between you. His familiar scent enveloped you, reminding you of all the memories you had tried so hard to bury. Your heart raced as he reached out, his fingers barely grazing your arm.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he murmured roughly, overcome with emotion.

You fought back tears as best as you could. "I didn't think you'd want to," you whispered.

A shadow of pain passed over his face. "I've regretted that day for years," he admitted. "If I could go back..."

You shook your head, cutting him off. "We can't change the past, Erik. I couldn't stay away any longer," you confessed. "I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you focus on your mission. But then I realized..." You took a deep breath, trying to hold back your emotions. "I realized that life is too short and unpredictable, especially for people like us."

Erik winced at your words. He had been younger then, fueled by his intense hatred towards humanity and the injustices he had endured. He hadn't expected that hatred to overshadow his ability to love, and your words left him struggling to find a response.

You pleaded with him, desperate for a response. Your eyes scanned his face, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he truly felt. Suddenly, you noticed a change in his expression - a fleeting look of desire and vulnerability.

In a rush of emotion, Erik blurted out, "Will you stay with me?" His voice quivered with unspoken worries. "I can't handle losing you again, mein liebe."

You didn’t hesitate to agree to stay. The thought of being apart from him once more was unbearable; you had missed him desperately. Erik never truly believed that you would return to him. He thought you would want nothing to do with him after everything that had happened.

- - - - - - -

As soon as your words left your lips, his heart began to pound and his mind raced out of control. Memories of your love flooded his mind: the feel of your skin, the sound of your voice, the scent of your perfume. They overwhelmed him, filling the space between you with a powerful and bittersweet nostalgia.

Your voice trembled with emotion as you spoke again. "I will never leave you again," you said softly. "My love for you has never faltered. Even after all these years apart, I never moved on." Your words hit him hard, a gut-punch he wasn't expecting. His heart felt like it was about to burst from the intensity of emotions that surged through him. Hearing you declare your love once more was a truth he had struggled to accept himself. Deep down, he had never truly let go of his feelings for you.

He took a shaky breath and gently placed his hand on the back of your neck. You both closed your eyes as he pulled you in closer until your foreheads were touching. “I have never stopped loving you,” he whispered, barely above a murmur. “It was torture when you left…” He swallowed hard, trying to contain the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. All the years apart, battles fought, and loneliness endured came crashing down in that moment.

With a few calming breaths, you both opened your eyes and slowly pulled apart, the closeness still tangible. His gaze held yours, baring his heart in a raw, vulnerable state. "You were my everything," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I didn't realize until now how lost I was without you." He searched your face for any sign of the promised love, hoping against hope that this time would bring something different.

There was an invisible force between you, pulling you together with a magnetic power that could not be resisted. Your eyes remained locked on each other's lips, filled with anticipation and unspoken promises. Then, without hesitation, your lips met in a passionate embrace. As the kiss deepened, years of yearning finally gave way to the storm of emotions between you.

The initial touch of your lips sparked an electric current through him, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Guided by a tender yet commanding force, his hands firmly grasped your hips and drew you closer. A deep hum escaped him as each kiss reignited long-suppressed desires. Amidst the exchange of fervent kisses, you whispered how much you had missed him, soothing his aching heart with every word.

Erik felt another surge of longing as each kiss intensified their shared confessions, drawing them closer with every heated touch. The urgency in their kisses grew more insistent, begging for closeness as he pulled her tighter against him. Unable to wait any longer, he reluctantly broke the embrace and gazed at her pleadingly as she reached for him. In a raw and desperate voice, he whispered, "Please...I need you." There was no room for hesitation in his tone, only an overwhelming urgency that demanded immediate action.

- - - - - - -

As your eyes meet, a silent understanding passes between you. You use your powers to change the room, and the furniture rearranges itself as if by magic. The soft glow of the fireplace reflects off the cozy blankets and plush pillows, inviting you to indulge in the moment.

The room was quickly transformed into a warm and inviting space, the furniture moving under your careful control as you worked together. The blankets and pillows seemed to dance in the air, creating a cozy and intimate nook by the fireplace. The flickering flames cast a soft orange glow, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

Erik led you to a cozy nest of pillows and blankets near the flickering fire, gazing at you with a mix of longing and adoration. He guided you onto the soft surface with gentle movements, his eyes drinking in every curve and contour of your body as if he wanted to commit them to memory.

His thumb traced along your jawline, causing you to let out a gasp. The tension in your body only fueled Erik's desire for you. His hand ventured down your body and slipped into your pants, finding the heat and wetness waiting for him.

Your breath caught at his touch, and your body instinctively moved towards him. The intensity in Erik's eyes grew as he watched your reaction. With skillful precision, he brushed his fingers between the folds of your sex, hitting all the sensitive spots that sent waves of pleasure through you. Your body trembled beneath him as he continued to pleasure you.

Erik’s lips traced a path down your neck, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive skin. With his free hand, he worked on unbuttoning your shirt, revealing more of your flesh to his hungry gaze. As each button came undone, he placed soft kisses on the newly exposed skin, gradually making his way down your chest. Your breath hitched as he reached the swell of your breasts, teasingly brushing his hot mouth against the edge of your bra.

"Erik, please," you whimpered, arching into his touch.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you want, love," he murmured against your skin.

"I want you," you gasped. "All of you."

With a growl, Erik captured your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands made quick work of the rest of your clothing, leaving you bare beneath him. You tugged at his shirt impatiently, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Erik let out a soft chuckle as he pulled away, discarding his clothes before settling back above you. Your eyes drank in the sight of his toned body as he positioned himself back into place. One hand stayed close to your head while the other made its way down to your center. As he began to gently massage small circles on your most sensitive spot, your muscles tensed and your breath hitched in your throat.

He craved your scent, wanting to lose himself in it completely. He wanted to savor every bit of you.

Suddenly, he slid his middle and ring fingers between your folds, causing you to cry out in shock. As he started to move in and out of you, you couldn't help but whisper his name like a holy chant. "Erik," you moaned, cherishing the way his name felt on your lips.

Erik's smirk only widened as he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Liebling, if you keep calling my name like that, I don't know if I can hold back much longer," he playfully warned.

His fingers slipped into you at a frustratingly slow pace and you could feel yourself reaching the brink of pleasure. "Please, Erik... faster..." you pleaded, desperate for him to pick up the pace. He obliged, finding that perfect spot inside of you that sent waves of ecstasy through your body. The books on the bookshelf started to topple as your telekinetic powers reacted to the overwhelming sensation. Erik clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"I'm close," you whimpered, but Erik shook his head.

"Not yet... not until I say so," he said with a teasing tone. This only made you groan in frustration, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers in a desperate attempt to reach your climax. But just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he pulled his fingers out.

You let out a whimper at the loss of his touch. Erik chuckled softly and positioned himself between your legs, pumping himself a few times before rubbing his cock against your folds, teasing you even further.

"Stop teasing me," you pouted, your frustration palpable. You wanted to smack him for holding back your release and taunting you with his erection.

After some playful teasing, he entered you, emitting a deep groan as he felt the warmth radiating from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size before moving again.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders. "Yes," you gasped. "Please..."

Erik started to move at a gentle pace, each thrust bringing waves of pleasure. You arched your back, matching his movements. His lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your sensitive skin.

As passion overtook both of you, the tempo increased gradually. The air was filled with soft moans and gasps as Erik's strong arms held you close, driving deeper into your body. You ran your fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the intense sensations.

"Erik," you cried out as waves of ecstasy began to build inside you. Your body trembled under his urgent movements as he buried his face in your neck, sending shivers down your spine with his hot breath.

"You feel amazing," he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders as the intensity grew, and Erik's lips found your neck, leaving hot kisses along your sensitive skin. You arched your back against his solid chest, unable to hold back your pleasure any longer.

"Oh god, Erik," you moaned desperately.

He responded by increasing his pace, driving you both closer to the edge. The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself on the brink of release.

Erik's ragged breathing and urgent movements pushed you over the edge. "Come for me," he growled in your ear, his desire evident in his husky voice.

Those words were all it took for you to tumble into mind-blowing ecstasy. Erik followed moments later, whispering your name as he found his own release.

You clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure together.

His hand moved to your clit, gently rubbing it in slow circles that made you arch your hips up in delight. "E-erik!," you gasped, unable to contain yourself. He silenced you with a tender shush and continued peppering kisses along your neck, marking you as his own.

The pleasure was reaching an overwhelming level, rendering you speechless as your brows furrowed in sheer ecstasy. He wanted to prolong your orgasm, drawing out every moment of bliss. Suddenly, without warning, a surge of release overcame you and you gasped for breath. Erik smirked, pleased with the outcome of his actions. He withdrew from you, leaving a mix of his cum and your juices scattered around.

"Good girl," he whispers, kissing your forehead. As Erik shifts to the side, you snuggle against his chest and feel the quick thumping of his heart. His arms wrap around you, keeping you warm and secure as your breath slows back to a steady rhythm. A sense of deep satisfaction washes over you as you revel in the peaceful aftermath.

For a long while, you lay together in contented silence, basking in the afterglow. Erik's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as you nestled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. The crackling fire cast a warm glow over your entwined bodies.

"I've missed this," Erik murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Missed you."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, seeing a vulnerability there that he rarely showed. "I've missed you too," you whispered. "More than you know."

His arms tightened around you. "I was a fool to let you go," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I won't make

The room was bathed in a warm glow from the fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the repositioned furniture. The blankets and pillows seemed to float effortlessly through the air, creating a cozy and inviting space.

- - - - - - -

His thumb traced along your jawline, causing you to let out a moan. The tension in your body only fueled Erik's desire for you. His hand ventured down your body and slipped into your pants, finding the heat and wetness waiting for him.

"Erik, please," you whimpered, arching into his touch.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you want, love," he murmured against your skin.

"I want you," you gasped. "All of you."

He craved your scent, wanting to lose himself in it completely. He wanted to savor every bit of you.

Erik's smirk only widened as he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Liebling, if you keep calling my name like that, I don't know if I can hold back much longer," he playfully warned.

"I'm close," you whimpered, but Erik shook his head.

"Stop teasing me," you pouted, your frustration palpable. You wanted to smack him for holding back your release and taunting you with his erection.

After some playful teasing, he entered you, emitting a deep groan as he felt the warmth radiating from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size before moving again.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders. "Yes," you gasped. "Please..."

"You feel amazing," he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

"Oh god, Erik," you moaned desperately.

He responded by increasing his pace, driving you both closer to the edge. The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself on the brink of release.

Erik's ragged breathing and urgent movements pushed you over the edge. "Come for me," he growled in your ear, his desire evident in his husky voice.

Those words were all it took for you to tumble into mind-blowing ecstasy. Erik followed moments later, whispering your name as he found his own release.

You clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure together.

- - - - - - -

"I've missed this," Erik murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Missed you."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, seeing a vulnerability there that he rarely showed. "I've missed you too," you whispered. "More than you know."

His arms tightened around you. "I was a fool to let you go," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I won't make that mistake again."

"We both made mistakes," you replied gently. "But we're here now. That's what matters."

Erik nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. His fingers continued to trace lazy patterns on your skin as you lay nestled against him. The crackling fire cast flickering shadows across the room, enveloping you both in warmth and intimacy.

"What happens now?" you asked softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Erik was quiet for a moment, his hand stilling on your back. "I don't know," he admitted. "Charles left me with an enormous responsibility. The X-Men, the school... it's all in my hands now." His voice held a note of uncertainty you'd rarely heard from him before.

You propped yourself up on an elbow to look at him. "You don't have to do it alone," you said. "I'm here. And the X-Men - they may not trust you fully yet, but they'll support you. It's what Charles would have wanted."

Erik's eyes searched yours, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "You're right," he said softly. "Charles always believed in the power of unity, even when I couldn't see it." He paused, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "But can you forgive me for the things I've done? The pain I've caused?"

You leaned into his touch, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. "I forgave you a long time ago, Erik," you whispered. "The question is, can you forgive yourself?"

He closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. When he opened them again, there was a determination there that you recognized. "I want to try," he said. "For Charles. For the X-Men. For us."

You smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Then that's where we'll start.”

- - - - - - -

glossary: liebling = darling, mein liebe = my darling

#erik lehnsherr x reader #charles xavier #x men 97 #x men first class #x men movies #michael fassbender #smut #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #wholesome #magneto #magneto x reader #erik lehnsherr #erik lensherr icons

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 51

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

Jiang YanLi is asleep.

Her eyes had not strayed from Wei Ying’s face for the majority of the evening and the night, but now, her head is pillowed on her arms, her breaths soft and nearly soundless. The dawn is only a few hours away, the darkness assuming a gentle, mellow glow, as it usually does before giving way to the morning light. Resting in the far corner of the Imperial chambers, uncle’s form is only a shadow draped in blue robes. XiChen is playing, his fingers moving over the strings, the stiff posture of his shoulders giving away the misery in his wrists.

WangJi’s own wrists and fingers ache, a dull, burning sensation that refuses to fade. He is grateful to the pain, for it keeps him alert. Even under the shifting light of the candle flames, Wei Ying’s face is no longer ghastly pale. There is a delicate flush across his cheeks now, a healthy color of dreamless sleep. His mouth is slightly parted, his breaths deep and even. Jiang YanLi had been the one to remove the cumbersome hair ornaments, to brush the thick curtain of Wei Ying’s hair until it shone. It is braided loosely now, a heavy, glistening coil of impossible length. WangJi has moved to touch it more than once, but drawn his hand back each time.

The memory of sliding his fingers through the strands, marveling at their texture, at the rich and lush weight in his hands, is a painful, physical presence. Wei Ying will recover, uncle had said. He will wake. WangJi keeps these words in his heart, a small, burning flame of hope. But there is very little uncle can say about the adverse effects of Wei Ying’s ordeal. Since the time of YanLing DaoRen, the study of resentful energy and demonic cultivation has been prohibited, its practitioners facing a swift and brutal death in every corner of the Empire.

Uncle may be knowledgable on the subject, but he has said precious little, leaving most of WangJi’s questions unanswered.

Wei Ying will wake. Wei Ying will recover. But will he still be Wei Ying?

The Rogue Prince shifts slightly in his place against the far wall. He has long ago settled down to meditate, the sword placed across his knees, the white bandage around his eyes glowing in the gloom.

At first, WangJi had believed his presence to be a family matter. After all, what is more natural than a concerned uncle at the bedside of his ill nephew? But now, WangJi thinks that perhaps Xiao XingChen is here for an entirely different set of reasons. There is no other living person so intimately familiar with YanLing DaoRen, with the corruption caused by the resentful energy, with the symptoms of YanLing DaoRen’s particular type of madness.

If Wei Ying wakes, and he is no longer Wei Ying, will Xiao XingChen take the matters into his own hands? Will WangJi be expected to abide by the man’s judgment?

Silent and still, wrapped in white, the Rogue Prince is not a comforting presence, but a ghastly specter of an executioner. WangJi moves a little closer to the bed, his knees aching sharply, another pain that will keep him awake and alert.

Time passes, slow and thick with waiting.

In the soft light of the early dawn, uncle wordlessly takes XiChen’s place at the guqin. Although XiChen’s skill is significant, WangJi can immediately feel the difference in the richness and the depth of the sound, in the strength and determination behind every note. Each time it wraps around him, uncle’s spiritual power is familiar and comforting, a calming memory, a steadying touch, pressing gently on his weary shoulders. It is a battle now, to keep his gaze clear and focused. He had wanted to wait until Jiang YanLi woke on her own, so that he may close his eyes instead, but sleep is dragging him under despite his aches and pains. Reaching across Wei Ying to wake her, he feels a tremor underneath his arm, a stutter of a breath, a slight impression of movement.

He freezes in place, his own breath locking in his chest. Wei Ying’s eyelashes flutter. His mouth moves, the motion soundless. A tiny line forms in-between his eyebrows.

“Wei Ying,” WangJi says, his voice rough with disuse.

The Rogue Prince shifts again, a soft rustle of robes. WangJi can now feel uncle’s sharp gaze on the side of his face. Jiang YanLi sighs deeply in her sleep.

“Wei Ying.”

The eyelashes lift. Underneath them, Wei Ying’s gaze is blank and unfocused. They descend again.

WangJi carefully fumbles for the hand resting on top of the covers, mindful of the neatly splinted wrist. He struggles upright, the pain in his knees forgotten.

“Wei Ying.”

The throat moves. A heavy swallow, then another. Fingers tremble, brushing against WangJi’s own.

This time, when the eyelashes lift, Wei Ying’s gaze is focused. His lips move around a name, but no sound comes. Still, WangJi has seen Wei Ying’s mouth form that shape many times before; he does not need to hear, to know what it means to say.

Lan Zhan

The sound of the guqin ceases. Chaos erupts.

Uncle is first to reach the bedside, reaching down to check Wei Ying’s pulse. Jiang YanLi is awake; she relinquishes her hold on Wei Ying so that uncle may take her place. WangJi is grateful to be allowed to stay where he is, to keep his hand lightly pressed to Wei Ying’s palm. XiChen takes uncle’s place at the guqin, the Cleansing now forced to battle with the clamor of activity. Although her eyes are red and shining, Jiang YanLi’s voice is steady as she sends the guards scurrying out of the Imperial chambers. The Royal Companion and the Council must be informed that the Emperor is awake. More candles are brought in, despite the rapidly brightening skies. Servants are sent for tea, despite the fact that no one will drink it. More servants are sent for food that no one will eat. This all occurs around WangJi, meaningless and unimportant events that cannot compare to the gentle brush of Wei Ying’s fingers, the grounding pressure of his thumb on WangJi’s knuckles.

Nie HuaiSang appears just as uncle moves away from the bed, half-dressed and noticeably disheveled, the state of his hair perfectly reflecting the disorder around him. Jiang WanYin arrives on his heels, tidy where Nie HuaiSang is rumpled, contained where Nie HuaiSang is vibrating in place. Still, the dark shadows under Jiang WanYin’s eyes reveal that he had been the one who had not slept, his neat uniform the same one he had worn the day before.

“I can detect no traces of resentful energy,” uncle says, “However, the Emperor is very weak, and should not be moved. I would prefer to consult with the Head Healer on any further treatment.”

The Rogue Prince had not yet approached the bed, but now he does, a soundless movement bringing him into Wei Ying’s field of vision. Although the man’s smile appears to be relieved, WangJi finds himself turning slightly, just so he can monitor Xiao XingChen while still keeping his hold on Wei Ying’s hand.

“The Head Healer is in the dungeons,” Jiang WanYin says, “and so is her apprentice.”

Jiang YanLi hisses under her breath, turning a disapproving gaze onto her brother.

Wei Ying’s fingers tighten, his expression growing alarmed. He attempts to sit up.

This results in utter commotion, nearly loud enough to drown out the Cleansing altogether. Jiang YanLi tries to convince Wei Ying to stay put, her tone pleading but firm. Uncle grumbles in disapproval, giving voice to a string of words that should never be used in reference to an Emperor. Jiang WanYin curses loudly, a collection of profanities that make WangJi’s ears burn. Wei Ying ignores them all, his grip on WangJi’s hand now painfully tight, his breaths labored from the struggle.

Finally, WangJi can see no other course of action but to slide his arms under Wei Ying’s shoulder blades, and lift him up. Wei Ying is strong enough to latch on to WangJi’s robe with his uninjured hand, but not yet strong enough to remain upright on his own. With some shifting, his upper body settles against WangJi chest, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed in order to bear its weight.

It is an intimate, utterly inappropriate position, and WangJi finds that he cannot look up at his uncle again. At this very moment, with Wei Ying pressed against him, he cannot muster the necessary fortitude to confront uncle’s disapproval. Somehow, in all the shifting and movement, the long braid had slithered down into WangJi’s lap. Wei Ying’s body is a scorching line of heat from his hip to his shoulder, and yet, it is the weight of that braid that that keeps driving WangJi to distraction, the inky black coil a sharp, eye-catching contrast to the white of his robes.

“A-Yuan,” Wei Ying croaks, the feeble sound lost in the ongoing procession of Jiang WanYin’s curses.

Still, Jiang YanLi hears it, immediately rushing to reassure, “He is safe, and well-hidden. The rest are unharmed.”

“A-Sang,” Wei Ying says.

“I am here,” Nie HuaiSang says, only now moving closer to the bed, his posture cautious.

“Tell me,” Wei Ying says.

“Are you stupid?” Jiang WanYin bursts out, “You cannot even sit up on your own. Do you want to die again? Wei Ying, you best lie down right now, or I will put you down myself.”

“You will not,” WangJi says.

He had not intended to speak out loud, but the words come out sharp and cold, leaving silence in their wake.

Nie HuaiSang’s eyebrows climb so high, they attempt to disappear in the messy tangle of his hair. Jiang WanYin has finally been made speechless, although his mouth is still moving; at this moment, he very much resembles Wei Ying, who does not know how to be silent even when his lips are sealed. Jiang YanLi is studying the carpet under her feet. There is an odd expression on her features that WangJi does not recognize.

Is she... going to laugh?

Wei Ying’s body shudders against his own. A soft gasping sound follows the shudder, and WangJi looks at him in alarm.

Wei Ying is... also laughing.

WangJi feels his face heat.

Jiang YanLi delicately clears her throat, “Sect Leader, if you wish to speak to the Head Healer, I am sure my brother would be pleased to provide an escort. It may be prudent to do so now, before the Council realizes that they had failed to impose any restrictions on visits to the Wen Sect.”

His face still burning, WangJi does not look up to see his uncle agree, or to watch him take his leave with Jiang WanYin.

No longer laughing, Wei Ying slumps with a sigh, forcing WangJi to wrap an arm around his waist in order to keep him upright. His temple presses to the side of WangJi’s neck.

“My protector,” he whispers, the teasing note obvious despite the weakness of his voice.

“Shameless,” WangJi hisses back, but there is no real heat behind his words.

It is hard to muster any heat, when most of it has collected in his face and throat. Wei Ying’s hair is soft against WangJi’s skin. His temple is warm and full of life. The smell of pears is heavy now, carrying with it memories of a mouth pressed against his own, a gentle huff of a laugh against his lips.

The sounds of the guqin have gone on uninterrupted, but he can practically sense his brother laughing at him. He has a feeling that the Rogue Prince is laughing silently as well.

It is not all due to WangJi, their amusement. The Emperor is alive, awake, and well enough to tease. The relief in the air is palpable and infectious. Under the circumstances, it does not take much, to be cheerful. WangJi feels it himself, a light bubble of air in his chest, bright with contentment. The mortification of being so intimate in front of so many witnesses cannot be simply willed away, but he finds that it can easily be overshadowed by joy.

“A-Sang,” Wei Ying says, “Tell me everything.”

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #longish? chapter?#i'm gonna have to shorten all the links up top bc 50 chapters #ridiculous #someone i love to the moon and back #reminded me that fan fiction is emotion driven #not plot driven #just as i've been suffering with the coming conclusion #and the fact that i hate writing the A-HA! moments at the ends of mysteries #and tend to fumble in general with plot laden endings #so i've got a new fire burning under my ass #ily merelhyn #lots of love to my reader chickens

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licncourt · 3 years ago

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not sure if youve answered this before, but have you read all the vc books — & which ones do u think are the best/most worth reading?

The answer is unfortunately yes, though I would say I...experienced Memnoch, Blackwood Farm, and Blood Canticle more than read them. I certainly stared at the pages, but I think my brain prevented me from absorbing it as a defense mechanism.

Truly and from the bottom of my heart, I can only reccomend the first three. Interview with the Vampire is my favorite (modern) novel and one that I go back to over and over. I always find something new to enjoy and it reminds me why I fell in love with the characters and the world they live in. I'm impressed every time I read it.

The Vampire Lestat is also a fantastic book, but as others have said, it's excellent popular fiction, not a modern classic that redefined what an entire genre could be. I do love it though and I absolutely reccomend it wholeheartedly. Lestat at this point in canon is still incredibly charming and it's such a fun contrasting counterpart to Interview with a great emotional payoff. There are small things I'd change but not much. It makes what AR does with Lestat later all the more disappointing.

Queen of the Damned is...good. I personally prefer the very intimate, character-driven storytelling of IWTV and TVL over big stakes or plot-heavy reads, so it's my least favorite of the original trilogy BUT there's a lot of good stuff in there (The Devil's Minion is some of the best character development she ever did). Unfortunately, the cracks in AR's writing start to show in QotD. Bad pacing, the introduction of way too many new characters, David, excessive lore dumping, the total sidelining of characters like Louis and Gabrielle etc.

There is no reason to read anything from Tale of the Body Thief through Blood Canticle. It's honestly irrelevant and nothing good happens plot-wise or in terms of character development. If you like Lestat, you will watch his character be systematically butchered. If you like Louis, he's barely there. If you're a big fan of Armand, The Vampire Armand has good things about it, but it's painfully uncomfortable to read. Blood and Gold is...fine, but nothing exciting. There's not enough new material to justify hearing Marius' backstory a third time.

I have mixed feelings about the Prince Lestat trilogy. Objectively they suck, but if you care about Loustat at all, it's worth at least reading the highlights to get some closure. There's no reason to actually read them through though. If you want Loustat content, glean it through osmosis on Tumblr or download PDFs and ctrl + F "Louis" through the books. If you don't care about Loustat, there's no reason to read these last three. Have someone tell you how it ends and move on with your life.

If you're a fan of Louis, read the PL epilogue for sure because it's as close as we're ever going to get to a finished arc for him. You may be tempted, like I was, to read Merrick for him. Don't do it. Learn from my mistakes. You will regret it. PL epilogue only.

So there you go, that is my brief review of the series! I hope it was at least a little bit helpful!

#answered #vc

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pluto-art · 4 years ago

Text

Softly - PatB Fan Fiction

Type: Hurt/Comfort Rating: PG Summary: Baby Brain has known little but pain and misery in an unloving world, but when he gets paired up with a new lab student things change in a way he didn’t expect.

This started out as a mini story in a Discord server and got... a little out of hand. What you see here is how much I typed out in the server.

He hadn't been there long. Two... maybe three weeks? The cold metal had finally become familiar beneath his feet, and the strange blocks, though generally tasteless, kept him alive. There wasn't much that made his new living quarters interesting; there was only so much one could do in a pile of aspen shavings day after day. Occasionally, they would hook up to his cage some sort of liquid that wasn't his usual watery fair. He could never decipher or make heads or tails of the words on the sides of the bottles, saying things like D-D-T or S-N-I-P-P-L-E. The only distinguishing feature to him was that sometimes they tasted terrible, sometimes quite flavorful, and sometimes they tasted like nothing at all. Almost all of them turned his stomach. Driven to thirst, however, he'd play their cruel game. Choice was not something that existed in this crisp, sterile world; at least, not from a personal standpoint. When it did exist it meant the difference between a shock and a treat; a yellow light or a red light; a warm room or a cold one. Choice was manufactured.

He still cried almost every night. He tried to quiet the tears, but they didn't always listen. The others heard him. One or two laughed cynically. Most said nothing; they'd shed their own fair share and would again sooner than later. A single kind soul, a mother rat some doors down from him, occasionally whispered to him a lullaby or two when everyone else but them were asleep. They were songs she sang to her own children to quiet their tears, and she had no less compassion for this unfortunate soul, who was even worse off than her own brood -- he didn't even have any parents to nuzzle up to. Had she her way, she would have mutilated every last living human being in the facility. It was bad enough that they were tested on mercilessly as adults. To do so to children was simply insidious. Alas, she was simply a rat, and so could only dream of days when she wasn't.

Not that BR-41N (that's what they called him; no one had real names here) hadn't tried to be friendly with his captures. Aside from a particularly nasty poke from some long, thin, prickly object inserted into his thigh the first day (it had stung; oh, it had stung...) the proceeding couple of days had consisted of simple maze runs and treadmill exercises. Nothing too elaborate. As a child, he'd been used to running around a lot in the field, and sifting through the labyrinths reminded him of the long grass he'd play hide-and-seek in back home, except at the end of them was a tasty prize: a piece of cheese. He liked cheese. In the wild, it was hard to come by, but here they gave it to him generously, provided he finished the courses, which he always did. The fourth day followed in much the same way, but the fifth day brought something different: a sudden shock and a broken tail. That had changed his view of things. Perhaps the harsh awakening wouldn't have been so terrible had it not been followed by other unspeakable things -- poisoned food; friends made that, the next day, would never be seen again; more shocks given as punishment for choosing an incorrect panel; injections that made him see things he'd never seen, monsters and strange colors and other scary things that kept him awake at night; loud noises that came out of nowhere; and often, quite often, the terrifying echo of squeaks, barks, and meows that made up the daily music of Acme Laboratories. He hated it. He hated all of it. More than anything, he wanted to go home. He missed the warmth; the love; the soft whisper of the wind that traveled through his ivory fur. He wanted all of it back. But life? She was a harsh mistress. And no amount of crying, screaming, or pleading, seemed to ever make her turn an ear.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks... months, more than just a tail was broken. Trust was broken. Hope was broken. Spirit... was broken. If there was any love, if there was any future, it wasn't here. Kindness had proved unfruitful, and patience had run its course. He didn't find reason to be willing, nor show charity, towards those who made his life a living hell. What reason was there? What profit was in it? Time had told him, quite bluntly, there wasn't. It had taken him a full month to admit defeat, but admit it he did, and cynical he became, 'til every hand that reached in to grab him was ripe to be bitten, every shot that punctured his stomach was the unwelcome norm, and every newcomer that tried to strike up a friendship was easily ignored. The latter-most was simply wasting their time. He could read the colors on the cages now. He knew that a red mark meant "death". He only wondered why he, as of yet, had never been given one himself. It was as if life itself was laughing at him -- keeping him as witness to the horrors that went on inside the dragon's cave, yet never giving him the satisfaction of death.

And so the third month dawned, chilly and barren, or so the scientists said. Autumn had come. Not that any of the residents within the thick, cemented walls could see it. But the laboratory personnel spoke of it -- gold and crimson leaves, hot chocolate, dried wheat fields. He could almost smell the corn; could almost feel the breeze.... Days passed. For the first time, they gave him a cage mate. E8-WN, they called him. He was kind, but BR-41N had little love left to give. Besides, he had the red tag. It seemed they had only placed him here temporarily due to a lack of space. The next day he was taken to the back. The tiniest shred of pity nipped at BR-41N as he watched the little peach-furred mouse be carried into the surgical room, a curious look on his face. Another emotion was also present within him: jealousy. On the 17th day of September, a new thing happened -- a thing that, for the first time in a while, made the little mouse turn his head.

The school year had started, and, as such, fresh meat was welcomed into the laboratory in the form of fourteen college students looking to continue pursuits in medical science. They were all very quiet during the tour, one or two of them occasionally lifting a hand to ask a question about course materials or contact information. They were each, it seemed, to be given a subject: an animal from the laboratory to study, train, and conduct experiments on. Rats, mice, and hamsters had already been picked out for them, and each was given a black-coated subject or a brown-furred captive to take charge of. Each student's rodent was to be kept in the lab at all times, and specific instructions were given them as to the proper handling of the creatures. At least two experiments were to be conducted on them daily, three if possible. They could spend as much time with their charge as they wished, so long as they got their homework done. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents. Four months to finish their work. Simple.

As it stood, however, there had been a miscalculation. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents.... No. Not fourteen. Only thirteen. There'd been an error. They'd forgotten to set aside an extra subject. The unfortunate student without a charge was a college girl named Rachel. All other rodents were going through tests conducted by various personnel in the lab, set aside specifically for said conductions that couldn't currently be tampered with. All except one....

"So, um, Rachel," their teacher said, checking his student list. "You may have to share with... Peterson.... You know what? We might... actually have an extra for you. Hold on. Let me ask...."

And he departed into another room, calling for a "Jackson".

"Jackson! Can she use BR-41N? I don't think he's going through any rigorous testing.... Yeah? Okay. Yeah, that would work out perfectly. Thanks."

He turned back to his brood, many of whom looked quite eager to jump in to these intriguing studies, others looking downright bored.

"Okay. We have one for you. His code name is BR-41N. He's not going through any major testing, and he's generally given the usual works -- labyrinths, shock treatment, all that. But, um... he bites. Really bad. So... you'll have to watch it, all right?"

"Okay," Rachel nodded, looking a little nervous.

"All right. Umm.... Good. Yes. So, let's head back to the main campus, and... we'll start your work tomorrow."

And they left.

BR-41N had only heard part of all this, and had understood none of it. He shivered in his cage, taking a moment to drink some water out of the bottle that hung there. While the arrival of such a large group intrigued him, especially since it consisted of a much younger set than normal, it also made him nervous. Was it a sign of good things to come... or bad? Or just more of the usual fair? One could only wonder. For now, he was simply grateful that the cheese they'd given him today was, for once, not laced with drugs.

She came by on a Tuesday.

It was an hour after a cosmetics test that he heard a knock on the table. His skin still burned. He was cowering in a far corner, and looked back over his shoulder hesitantly.

Rachel stood there, smiling at him.

"Hello, little one." He stared at her, nonplussed. "I guess you're my charge. You gonna say hello?"

And she opened up the door of his cage.

He shuffled back further. He knew all too well by this point that the opening of a door meant one of two things: food or torture. Considering the fact that she didn't smell of food, he had to assume it was the latter.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. Well, hopefully not...."

Although he didn't understand a word of what she said, her tone was calm; soothing. No one in the lab ever talked to him like this. He couldn't help but stare curiously.

She held her hand up to the entrance and made a soft, squeak-like sound with her mouth. He frowned at her. As if that was going to convince him. He turned away.

"No? I don't blame you," she replied, taking a look at his clipboard. "BR-41N. What kind of a freak name is that? Mind if I call you Brain? Or Brian?"

No response.

"We'll go with Brian. Brain sounds kinda weird."

Brian it was.

She kept the door open, and he braced himself. Any moment now, gloved hands would be protruding into his enclosure to wrap themselves firmly about him, not tight enough to choke him, but secure enough that he couldn't escape. But the hand didn't come. If anything, she pulled up a chair, sat down, and rested her arms upon the table on which his cage sat. She was... giving him a choice? He stared at her, unsure how to react.

"Come on, sweet heart," she cooed, rubbing her fingers together encouragingly.

But he wouldn't budge. If this was some new trick, it wasn't going to work. He wished she'd just grab him and get it over with. Sooner or later, she'd have to. It was only a matter of time. And so he waited....

She sat there for a full twenty minutes, trying her best to get him to come over, but he refused to budge, and so she gave up. As expected, she still ran him through a maze, but instead of reaching in to grab him, she found a clear tube and scooped him up in it, covering both ends before depositing him into the run as such. It was... odd, but less invasive than what he was used to. He rather wished the others would do it that way.

Via the same method she returned him to his cage at the end of the test. As usual, he took to the corner, assuming his usual cowardly pose, but he turned to look at her as she spoke.

"Sorry about that. Nice job, though. See you tomorrow."

And so went the next day... and the next, always with the same introduction: She'd open his door, pull up a chair, and offer her hand to him. After twenty minutes of nothing, she'd scoop him up in the tube, deposit him in the maze or whatever other test he was to perform that day, and return him in the same manner. This went on for four whole weeks, always with a kind word, never coupled with a harsh prod or poking of his skin. He came to somewhat look forward to her almost daily visits, not because he trusted her (the one time she had tried touching him [with gloves on, of course], he'd given her a fair warning in the form of a bite), but because it was the only two hours during the day in which he knew he wouldn't be fed poison, given a shot, or made to inhale cigarette smoke. The other students joked with her. By far, she had the unfriendliest mouse out of all of them, and they found her kind advances a waste of time.

"Just pick him up!" a tall boy said.

Most of them had no problem with handling their subjects by the tail; at least, the boys generally didn't. The girls were kinder, but even they didn't take the time to get to know their animals intimately. They also were given the harder tests to conduct on their critters and so tried not to get attached.

Whereas most of the rats, mice, and hamsters given to the students would eventually be killed in some way or other at the end of the semester, via through vivisection, gassing, cancer, or some other method, BR-41N, or... Brian, as Rachel now called him, was not scheduled to be offed anytime soon and so could not undergo such rigorous experiments. As such, she got both the easy job of conducting very simple tests on him, and also the hard job of trying to work with the most hostile mouse in the entire facility.

"He's never gonna warm up to you," one of the other students said.

Rachel took it as a challenge.

"Watch me," she said.

But Brian was proving to be a much tougher can than expected. By the sixth week, he still hadn't even bothered to venture near the cage entrance when she sat near it, even with tasty treats in hand. He simply didn't trust anyone. Not anymore....

October came and went, to be replaced with a frosty November. Whenever Brian saw Rachel now she had a cup of tea in hand, the better to ward off the coming winter chill. Still she tried; still he refused to relent. Until the 9th....

It was late. She hadn't been able to get to the lab until 8:00 PM due to unfortunate series of events that involved a fender bender, two appointments, and a last minute essay. When she got to the lab she was tired... and not at all in the mood to deal with Brian's B.S., and he knew it.

"'Sup?" she asked him wearily, setting down her things in a huff. Only a handful of other people were still in the facility at this hour, none of them students. Fine by her. She preferred the quiet anyway. "We're gonna do something a little different today, bud."

Indeed.... He perked his ears up at her exhausted tone and the fact that, for once, she didn't open the cage door. But she did still slide the chair up to his table.

On the opposite side of the room was a television on a rolling stand. Normally, this was used for surgeries and other experiments. Once in a blue moon, however, someone would use it for recreational purposes -- to watch the local news when there was time to kill. Most fortunately for Rachel, it also came with a VHS player. Into it she popped a tape, before sitting down in the chair and grabbing her hot cup of peppermint tea. Despite himself, Brian took a whiff of the tea, whose scent had wafted into his cage and tickled his nose. It smelled good.

The film began to play. Brian didn't know the name of it, but whatever it was it was made up of very pretty pictures and featured a lot of dogs... and snow (at least at the beginning). It was rather soothing. Still, he didn't move from his spot, save to grab a lab block at one point to munch on, more to pass the time than anything. His stomach was still a little unsettled from earlier. Privately, he was a bit ticked off at the girl. Had she been a bit earlier he might have avoided the shock treatments. Not that they would have withheld them regardless.

It wasn't until the second song that his attention was at last caught.

"La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...."

Sweetly did the animated woman sing her little song, and Brian, captivated, perked his ears. He looked up at the television. She was still singing. He stepped forward, bit by bit, until he was right up to the closed door, two little paws coming up to grasp at the bars of his cage as he stared, entranced, at the screen.

"La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper, La la lu, La la lu, La la luuuuu."

And so it ended, all within the span of a minute, if that, but something had stirred with him -- a remembrance of home, and warmth, and what it was like to be loved.

He was still clutching at the bars when he noticed that Rachel was smiling at him, and he promptly sped back to his corner, embarrassed.

"Atta boy," she whispered, still grinning softly at him.

He refused to look at her. He wasn't touched by it or anything. He wasn't....

"It's okay. Don't be embarrassed," said the girl. "I like that song, too."

Brian stayed in his corner the rest of the movie, but the song never left his mind.

---

The next day proceeded as normal. Once again, Rachel sat by his cage. Once again, she had brought a treat, albeit one he'd never seen before, nor smelled, for that matter. It was small... and white... and fluffy, and it smelled sugary and sweet. He wanted it. Oh, he wanted it so very badly. But nothing that ever came from the fingers of a scientist, even a soft-spoken one, was innocent. And so he refused, his back turned to her.

"Stubborn butt," said Rachel, and by her tone alone Brian could tell that it was a snide comment. He ignored her.

"Here."

As had occurred many times before, she left the treat in his cage near the entrance, closed the door, and sat to watch him. His eyes shifted towards the treat. It sat there, staring at him, mocking him. Eat me, it said. No, he thought. Oh, but it smelled so good....

Rachel sighed. So did Brian. She rested her head in her arms, exasperated. Maybe it really wasn't worth it....

Brian licked his lips. Perhaps....

He took a step forward. Rachel remained where she was, head in her arms, not looking at him. He moved another step. She was still as a stone. Patter patter patter patter patter... GRAB. He swooped back to his corner as fast as possible, marshmallow in his mouth. Rachel looked up... and chuckled. Brian dug into the treat, enjoying every second of it as teeth sunk into the savory delight. He'd never tasted anything this good before. It was better than mother's milk; much better than lab pellets; better than cheese....

"Silly little thing," Rachel giggled, smiling as he filled his cheeks with pleasantness. "Wait 'til you see what I bring you tomorrow."

Tomorrow, he was to find out, brought a piece of a doughnut, and the day after that a waffle. He'd never been this darn spoiled before. On the fourth occasion, he was, for once, already at the door, waiting to see what she'd bring. Lady and the Tramp and sugar, it turned out, were the keys to his heart, although he still wouldn't let her touch him. If her hand so much as brushed his fur he was back to his corner in a rush, although, this time, he didn't try to bite her first.

Rachel laughed when she saw the two little paws clutching at the gated entrance.

"You like 'em that much, huh? Here ya' go."

He stepped back to allow her access to the gate, and watched carefully as she placed something savory and smelling of salt inside. He sniffed, investigating as she closed the door. He took a tentative bite. Mmmmm. Yes, this was acceptable. Grabbing it, he rushed back to his usual corner and chowed down.

"Good. A fellow bacon appreciator," Rachel nodded, satisfied.

He ate the entire piece, licking his lips and proceeding to clean himself afterwards. That had been a bit messy. Good, but messy. If there was something he still valued, it was cleanliness. He could at least retain some form of dignity. The state of his fur was one of the few things he still had control over. Unlike some of the other unfortunate chaps, he'd never had to endure surgery or a shaved stomach.

Two little pink ears perked up as his cage door was opened yet again. More treats? No. Just Rachel, hand offered to him once more. Brian sighed. She just wouldn't give up, would she?

A second glance made him aware that she did, in fact, have something in her hand -- another marshmallow. Hmph. Sneaky. And yet, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it....

"It's okay, little one," Rachel cooed, hand still outstretched, that plump marshmallow beckoning ever so tantalizingly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise."

Brian sighed. He looked down at the floor, then over at her hand.

Rachel's eyes widened a touch, but she otherwise didn't reveal her surprise as Brian moved forward, inch by inch, step by step, towards her hand....

He stopped at the entrance, debating. Dare he...? It was a risk. He'd never willing done this, not since he'd been captured. It was a stupid decision. Stupid. And yet....

Her hand shifted a touch, and Brian shifted nervously with it. Rachel waited with bated breath.

He stepped forward....

In a flash, he'd grabbed the 'mallow from her hand and retreated to the back of his cage, not daring to even think about what he'd just done. It was foolish. It was dangerous. And yet, she hadn't tried to grab him, or even pet him. She'd just... given him a choice. And he'd taken it. Somehow, for some reason, he'd taken it.

Rachel smiled.

"Atta boy."

---

Perhaps it was the mere fact, the tantalizing realization, that he had a choice in the first place, that drew him back, but over the course of the next few weeks, things changed.

It had started slow at first. A light brush of the whiskers here; a sniff of the hand there. But, eventually, Brian, of his own accord, stepped into her hand. And she didn't close her fingers about him harshly, or strangle him, or pick him up by the tail. She simply... let him be. It was kind. It was unobtrusive. It was respectful. And he appreciated it.

No longer did the other students make fun, or joke that she'd never gain his trust. If anything, they questioned her.

"How the heck did you do it?" they'd ask, curious.

Even more confused were the scientists themselves. Not that anyone had tried very hard to gain the little mouse's trust. He was, in their opinion, not worth the time.

But he was to Rachel.

December came, and with it a complete turn-around in Brian's behavior, albeit towards one particular individual.

He eagerly rushed into her hand now. No need for the transportation tube. She could carry him on her shoulder to the maze area and pick him up with her bare hands as she placed him in the labyrinth, although she still made sure to let him take the first step and would, more often than not, simply offer a hand instead of plucking him from her shoulder. He still appreciated this.

Every weekday was now a day to look forward to. Sure, he was still tormented by the main personnel, but for two or three hours, two or three sweet hours, he didn't have to worry about anything. On the days he suffered from a stomach-ache, she'd hold him close to her chest and do her best to rub the pain away, offering him tea to ease his suffering, and if he fell asleep on her shoulder and woke up, shaking, from a bad dream, she'd rock him back and forth, singing "La La Lu" to him until the nightmares went away. On those rare nights, when she could only work late and no one was around, she'd bottle feed him. He'd been hesitant (and a little embarrassed) at first, but any reminder of home was difficult to ignore, and so he ended up embracing each form of love and affection with open paws, clutching tightly to her chest some days, as if this hug would be his last. For all he knew, it could be. He'd gotten used to her visits, but what if she left and never came back? He didn't want that love to leave....

December 14th.

The end of the semester was approaching. Rachel had told him, time and again, that she was leaving soon; that she would miss him; that she'd try to come back for the next semester. Brian understood none of this. He was a mouse, after all. Human language was foreign to him. The most he could understand was the occasional word -- his name, Brian, and various names of foods and tests -- and basic inflections that he knew signified concern, happiness, or contentment. But he didn't understand "leave", or "semester", or "miss". He could tell something was wrong, that she was sad, but as to why, he did not know.

A week from the last day of the semester, she brought a surprise: a movie. It had something to do with a rat, and food. He liked it for those things. He wished he could understand the words. It seemed interesting. He sat on Rachel's shoulder the entire time, at least until the end of the film, during which Rachel offered her hand to him. He accepted. She brought him up to her chest, nuzzling him close.

"I'm going away for a while, but... I'll try to be back next semester."

She petted him gently. He stared up at her, curious and concerned. Why was she so sad?

"I'm going to miss you...," she whispered. And, for the first time, she kissed him on his fuzzy white head. "I love you...."

He didn't understand the words, but he understood what they meant; how they felt.

Slowly, gently, he nuzzled close to her... and licked her fingers. It was the first time he'd shown genuine affection outside of nuzzling since he'd been captured. I love you, too....

He didn't understand it, but... there was something in the air that told him something big was coming. Something new. Something was going to be different....

December 18th came just like any other day. The semester was coming to a close. Many students had already finished their courses and gone home for the holidays. The occasional class still lingered on, including the medical science class. Most all had completed training and experimentation on their subjects for the season and were simply spending the next few days filing reports and filling out last minute essays. Some of the rodents wouldn't live to see the new year. Others had already been subjected to vivisection by their handlers and were far from the lab by this point. Subject BR-41N was one of the few who'd been given the same sheet on their clipboard day after day, week after week: a run of the mill of the usual, simple, non-invasive tests, along with an injection or two. But today was different.

As Rachel stepped up to Brian's cage, sipping at a hot cup of tea and smiling as her charge ran up to the bars to greet her, she frowned as she pulled up the clip board. His tag was yellow. Not the usual blue, but... yellow. She set down her cup, ignoring Brian's squeaky pleas to be let out as she looked over the sheet carefully.

Subject Reserved for Project B.R.A.I.N. // Invasive Study -- Cognitive Psychology, Neuroscience Psychology // 4:00 PM - Dec. 20

There was a pause, in which the dip in Rachel's brow furrowed ever deeper, her eyes roaming about the page scrutinizingly, before she slipped the paper out of its holder and headed back out the way she'd came, Brian looking curiously after her.

She marched all the way to a back office, in which sat one of the laboratory heads: Jackson. He looked up over his square-rimmed glasses as she knocked upon the exposed inner door frame.

"Yes?" he asked, sounding bored.

"Hey. Um.... I think you gave my subject the wrong paper."

"BR-41N?"

"Yeah. He got a yellow."

She stretched out her arm, offering the paper as proof, but he didn't take it. Instead, he looked up at her, fingers meeting at their tips, and said:

"No, I gave you the right paper. That's for BR-41N. His procedure is in two days."

His tone was flat and laced with a thin layer of poison, as if her daring to question him was a challenge.

"But... I thought he was just doing mainly labyrinth tests."

"Ms. Field, I thought you were told...?"

"Told what...?"

"He's been scheduled for this procedure for months. We wanted him fresh and so have eschewed more invasive tests until now. Frankly, you've been spending a little too much time with that mouse. He's gotten too friendly. We're not in the business of developing attachment here."

He said all this with a straight face, completely emotionless. Rachel swallowed thickly.

"Sir, I've... been going over this test. It's... very dangerous."

"Yes."

"It could kill him...."

"Yes?"

Rachel simply stared at him, uncertain of what to say next. He wasn't working with her here....

"Look.... What did you expect? You're studying medical science, correct?"

She nodded.

"Okay, well," he continued, a small chuckle of sarcasm escaping his lips as he said it. "Y-You have to realize that... this is a laboratory. We can't keep every subject. And these tests come with a lot of risks."

"Could you possibly do the test on another subject...?" Rachel asked, choosing her words carefully. "Brian is still kind of young, and..."

"Brian?"

Shoot.

"Sorry, I mean... BR-41N."

"You can't start... naming them, Miss Field. That's when you start getting attached. Understand?"

"I know...," Rachel mumbled, cheeks reddening as she looked down at her shoes.

"And the whole point of using him at this age is because his mind is younger. He's fresh."

"But he's just a baby..."

"Yes? And? A lot of the other students are working with infants."

"This one is...," Rachel began, than stopped. Already she'd said too much.

"Miss Field, if you don't prepare him for the procedure, someone else will. Now, you can either do your assignment or lose your credits. It's your choice."

Rachel sighed. Still holding the paper, she let her arm fall dramatically to her side.

"Fine...."

And she turned to walk off. But...

"Miss Field?"

She looked at him.

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes, Sir," Rachel replied, after a hefty pause, and headed back to her charge.

---

Brian didn't understand why Rachel was so quiet that day, nor why she cuddled him so much. She whispered to him something about "breaking out" and "night", but he didn't understand what those things meant, although he heard the urgency in her voice. As a result, he was a little more uptight the rest of the afternoon.

Before leaving, Rachel kissed the top of his head again, before setting him back down in the cage and hooking the door. Her good-byes were all but gibberish to him, although he recognized the word "tomorrow". So he'd be seeing her tomorrow. That was good. At least he had a time frame. He was naive to the rest....

---

December 19th 9:15 PM

BR-41N cleaned his whiskers, pondering.

She hadn't shown up today. Strange. "Tomorrow". She's said "tomorrow". Today was tomorrow. Why hadn't she come?

To his left, in a far corner of the room, someone sneezed in their cage. Brian frowned sadly. It was that hamster again. Whatever they'd given him had put him into a sneezing fit for an hour. Now and then he relapsed.

He yawned, stretched, and made for the food dispenser, when he suddenly heard a sharp click of a door being opened and abruptly snapped shut. He turned in the direction of the door. A light flicked on. Brian smiled.

Rachel's feet slid across the floor in haste. Instead of her usual student lab coat, she was decked out in her normal clothes, complete with backpack. Her hoodie was up, obscuring her hair, save for a few strands that stuck out here and there, as well as part of her face. She moved with purpose, albeit a little covertly, looking over her shoulder every now and then, as if expecting someone to grab her at any minute.

Set in a wall above the entrance to the room, a camera followed her. Rachel's eyes shifted at the sound as she moved towards Brian's cage. She knew she only had five, maybe ten, minutes at best.

Opening the cage door, she held her hand out for Brian to step onto. He hesitated. Something didn't smell right....

"Come on. We're busting you out of here, dude," Rachel whispered.

Brian cocked his head at her questioningly.

"Listen, they're going to put your through that splicer if we don't get you out of here, so come on."

There was an urgency in her voice that, despite his misgivings, compelled him to move forward. He trusted her too much by this point.

"Atta boy," she praised him, tucking him in her shirt pocket.

He peeked out, paws clutching at the edges of the pocket interestedly.

"Let's go," Rachel whispered, turning back to the door and stopping as she realized that someone was already standing there....

Framed in the metal doorway was a woman, thirty-five... maybe forty-something in age. Her arms were crossed, and the expression on her face seemed as taught and firm as the scrunchie tightening her poofy auburn hair. Her long lab coat was still settling; she must have only just gotten there. Rachel recognized this woman. Lana, her name was -- she was one of the head managers at the facility. Jackson had obviously tipped her off.

"Fancied a night stroll?" she asked, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel remained frozen in place, a hand subconsciously cupping her shirt pocket. The gesture didn't go unnoticed.

"You know you're risking a lot for this. That's all your credits down the drain."

"He's worth it," Rachel answered, resolute.

"He's not. You take him and they'll just get another subject."

"At least I'll have saved this one."

"We'd still rather you not take an asset that's been reserved for months for this procedure," Lana nipped, taking a step forward.

Rachel took a step back. Her eyes shifted to a door to her left. It led to several other testing rooms and then back out into the main hallway. Some of the doors had security locks. It was the long way around, but if she was fast enough....

"Rachel...," Lana spoke, tone threatening as she advanced. "Put him down."

With each step Lana took towards her, Rachel moved two back. She could feel herself starting to perspire. Gosh, this was a stupid idea....

"Rachel...."

With a hand cupped over her shirt pocket, Rachel darted in the direction of the door, opening it up in a flash and slamming it shut behind her. Already she was racing for the opposite end of the room, where another door stood.

Brian jumped as an alarm went off, followed by red lights that flashed all throughout the facility. Rachel was already in the next room, her heart racing. She could hear the panicked footsteps behind her, mimicking her own, and hoped upon hope that she was faster than her pursuer.

Rachel picked up her pace as she entered the next room. This one, she knew, required an employee badge to open. All of the students had been given security badges, of course, primarily for general access to the entrance and main rooms. They worked on some doors in the facility. Some, but not all. She'd never been in these rooms. Privately, she prayed that they'd open for her.

Slamming her badge up against a wall panel, she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet nervously.

"Come on. Come oooon! Take it!!"

It did. The door unlocked, and she swung it open in haste to make for the next locked door, which also granted her entrance.

She was faster than Lana, but it didn't mean the woman wasn't hot on her heels. Brian shut his eyes tightly, huddling against Rachel's chest on the inside of her pocket as she darted about, her hand still cupping him securely. He knew, somehow, that this was about him. His ears rotated this way and that at the duo of clicking feet racing down the linoleum flooring. Who would win? Who was he most valuable to?

It wasn't until the fourth room that Rachel started to panic. Yet again, she'd reached a door asking for proof of access, except this time... her badge was not accepted. She shook the door handle feebly, knowing it wouldn't open; knowing this was the end of the line. Despite himself, Brian peeked out of the shirt pocket, just in time to see Lana as Rachel swiftly turned around to face the woman, who stood at the opposite end of the room, hair askew and chest heaving as she glared at Rachel and her tiny charge.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Lana huffed.

"Why do you need him?! Just let me take him and get another subject!" Rachel bit.

"We let you get away with it and you'll set a precedent! You know that!" Lana snapped right back. "And we don't want to waste any more time. We've spent too much money on this project."

"He's just a baby!"

"All of them are meant to be expendable! Hand him over!"

"No!"

Brian's ears flicked. Rachel held her breath. Was it just them, or did they hear... more footsteps?

"You won't have a choice," Lana said flatly, expressionless as she was joined by not one, not two, but five other lab hands, one of the them Jackson, all of them full-time personnel.

"Rachel.... Hand him over," Jackson said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Rachel glared daggers at him, even though she was fully aware of the impossibility of the situation. Like the mouse she was trying so hard to protect, she was trapped, her back against the wall, literally. They were going to take him. They were going to take him and there was nothing she could do about it....

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Jackson continued.

"Please...," Rachel pleaded, breathing heavily. "Please, let me take care of him. I'll train another in his place as compensation, I swear. Just... don't hurt him."

"And then you'll grow attached to that one and try and kidnap it. We've seen it before. You're not the first," Jackson reprimanded.

"Good," said Rachel. "I'm glad I'm not."

Privately, she wondered why she'd ever signed up for this in the first place. She wanted the degree. She wanted it badly. She also loved animals, and knew that following her passion came with sacrifices. What she hadn't counted on was how difficult it would be to accept that. It wasn't feasible, she realized. In fact, it was darn near impossible.

She looked down at the infant trembling in her pocket -- at this little creature that had captured her heart and locked it away, far away from any hopes and dreams of graduating in the medical field of her choosing. "He's not worth it," Lana had said. Was he not? Brian looked up at her, those glossy little eyes staring at her expectantly, trustingly. She smiled sadly at him and, for the last time, cuddled him close, before looking up at the troop across from her.

"If you want him, come and get him," she challenged. They weren't getting him without a fight.

And they rushed at her.

She tried to escape. Oh, she tried... and failed. They grabbed her by the arms as she wrestled against them, cheering Brian on as he somehow managed to escape from her pocket and slip underneath one of the shelving units in the room. But Lana caught him, Brian squeaking as his tail snagged between the beaker and the small metal panel she'd captured him with. He stared at Rachel, his desperate, panicked expression the last thing she saw before being knocked out.

-------

- Two Years Later -

The plan had failed. Rather spectacularly, he might add....

It was the first time in Brain's memory he could ever recall being caught red-handed by any of the personnel at Acme Labs. It was a miracle he and Pinky had managed to escape, but, despite his best attempts, they'd been separated in the process.

He made for a facility some yards away from the main laboratory, sweating as he squeezed under its front door and immediately hid under a cabinet to his right. Lights flashed now and again beyond the windows, desperate voices accompanying them as the scientists searched here and their for the escapees. Brain silently prayed that Pinky had somehow found a suitable hiding spot.

In his position under the cabinet, he backed up against the wall and slid down it, a paw clutching at his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he gulped, sniffed, and buried his face in his knees. Stupid. Stupid.... He'd jeopardized their whole mission. What if they'd captured Pinky? What would they do to him? And even if they did escape, where would they go? He'd ruined everything. Everything....

In his haste to remain undetected, he'd neglected to realize that this room... was not entirely devoid of life. It was a small area -- a security office, to be exact. Numerous monitors took up space on a desk, at which someone sat. They slid out of their chair and stepped over to Brain's hiding place. He noticed... and shivered.

Whatever, whomever, it was got down on their knees to peer at him from just outside the dresser.

"Hello...," they said.

It was a woman. Her voice was soft, and kind, but Brain turned his head away from her prying eyes. Typical. In an effort to not get caught he'd inevitably been ratted out. He immediately considered making a run for it, but, for some reason he couldn't explain, he didn't.

"Hey.... Shh. Shh. It's okay, little one. It's okay," cooed the woman. "You wanna come on out...?"

And she held out a hand to him. She didn't try to grab him, or scare him out. She simply... gave him a choice.

But it had been too long. He didn't recognize her, neither she him... until she noticed the tail. Then she knew.

"Brian...?" she breathed, eyes growing wide.

He stared at her, nonplussed, still shivering.

"Brian, it's me. Rachel," she beckoned, her hand still in place. But he didn't move. If anything, he frowned at her. "Brian"?

And she tried everything -- talking to him soothingly; offering him a treat from her pocket. Nothing worked. Brain simply hid his face once more, willing her to go away; to leave him be; to, hopefully, not report him to the authorities if they came to call.

Rachel sighed. She sat up for a moment, thinking, and blinked. Struck with a sudden idea, she rested her hands on her lap... and began to sing....

“La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...“

Brain blinked... and lifted his head, ever so slowly....

“La la lu, La la lu, Little soft fluffy sleeper, Here comes a pink cloud for you...“

He stood up... and walked forward, right to the edge of the cabinet. She was still singing.

“La la lu, La la lu, Little wandering angel, Fold up your wings, Close your eyes...”

His mouth was fully open now, his round eyes glossy and getting ever shinier. He couldn't pull his gaze away from her face.

“La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper...

La la lu, La la lu, La la lu....”

Rachel stared at him, smiling. He had completely stepped out from under the cabinet by now, his little body trembling slightly.

"Hello, little star sweeper," Rachel whispered to him.

Breath hitching, Brain ran onto her lap, up her shirt, and clutched tightly to her chest, only a second or two going by before he felt those familiar hands hold him gently, securely.

"Oh, Brian...," she choked, kissing his head. He didn't even flinch.

"Why didn't you come back?" he asked, unable to hold back his tears.

"I couldn't," she answered honestly. "But I was able to keep an eye on you from here."

He sniffed and pulled back a little to look around the room. It was, indeed, a security office, and a fairly high end one at that, decked out with all the works.

"I'm an artist now, but in my part time I take the night shift. They at least let me come back for that, probably 'cause Jackson and Lana are gone now," she chuckled softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you this time...."

Brain looked up at her, suddenly understanding. All that time they'd never been caught; never been reported. All those months and years that the camera had simply turned a blind eye to their antics. He thought it was simply negligence. Now he knew why.

"Thank you...," Brain whispered. "And it's... Brain now."

"I know," she smiled. “I still watch tv, ya' know. I just still remember you as my 'Brian'. I'm sorry, Brain."

He couldn't help but smile. All this time....

"Come with me?" Rachel asked him.

"Where?"

"Back to my place. I'll hide you. You can have the guest room, if you'd like."

A sharp knock at the door startled them both, and she quickly ran to her desk, Brain in her hands. She lifted him up and under the desk.

"There's a hidden panel in the roof! Get in it!" she whispered to him urgently.

He found it, albeit with a little difficulty. He pushed at a little area that looked as if it had been cut into... and down shifted a small cubby in which she kept an assortment of odd bits and bobs that were probably not supposed to be in her possession -- special looking keys and badges, among other things. He slipped into it, and Rachel pushed it closed before walking over to answer the door....

Another barrage of bangs thundered at the entrance as Rachel opened it, a hand on her hip as she held the door ajar, doing her best to look as ticked off as possible.

"Sheesh! Gimme a minute to finish pouring my tea! Gosh...."

Outside stood two gentlemen, both in lab coats, looking frantic.

"Have you seen a mouse?" one of them said. He was taller and appeared to be the leader. "White. Large cranium. He was with a companion."

Rachel shrugged.

"Is that what you guys have been looking for?"

"You haven't seen them on your cameras?" the second man asked, panting a little.

Rachel shook her head.

"No, I haven't seen anything."

The men exchanged glances.

"We'd better search the place, just to make sure," the leader said, and without further ado they barged in and began searching every nook, cranny, drawer, and trash can they could. They failed to find the hidden cubby, however. "Can we ask you to roll back the footage?"

"Sure, but you're not gonna find anything," Rachel shrugged again.

They did as permitted, scrutinizing every bit of film captured within the last ten minutes. Although they managed to catch one or two glimpses of the mice leaving the lab, as expected, they couldn't find hair no hide of them on any other roll. Behind their backs, Rachel smirked. Smart little guy. Even on the run, he'd purposely made sure not to walk in the path of the cameras.

After several more minutes of scrutiny, they finally gave up, heading for the door in a huff.

"Sorry for your time. Report to us if you find anything," said the leader.

"No problem," Rachel said, shutting the door with a snap behind them and sighing deeply. Yeah, right..., she thought.

Going back to her desk, she pushed open the hidden cubby. It lowered down and Brain immediately jumped into her hand, breathing rather heavily.

"Sorry, little one," Rachel apologized. I can imagine it's pretty stuffy in there...."

He gave her a look, albeit not a very harsh one. He had no reason to complain.

She raised her hand, allowing him to jump up onto her shoulder.

"They'll be back later to go over more footage," Rachel warned, sitting down at her desk and leaning back in her chair.

"I know," Brain said, licking at his paws and smoothing out his frazzled fur.

Rachel jumped a little and stared at him.

"Heh. I forgot you guys talk now...."

"Is that a problem...?" Brain asked, a little nervously.

Rachel smiled.

"Not at all."

She reached out a hand to scratch at a spot behind his ears.

"What are you...? Ohhhh-ho-ho-ho...," Brain melted, reeling a little at first before giving way to a goofy smile and a thumping foot as he pressed into the touch.

"Still got that little sensitive spot, huh?" Rachel chuckled, her scratches evolving into a head massage.

Brain practically fell off her shoulder, Rachel catching him in her hands and raising him up to eye level, the better to get a good look at him. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. How demoralizing.... But Rachel simply beamed at him.

"You know... I really missed you."

"I... wish I could say the same...," Brain confessed, shuffling a foot. He imagined he had thought of her often, as an infant, but over time the memories simply... faded.

Rachel didn't look upset, though.

"I understand. It's okay. I still love you."

"I...," Brain began, then stopped. No. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Even with Pinky he couldn't ever admit such a thing, and he loved Pinky most of all.

"You don't have to say it. I know you do in your heart," Rachel said, and she kissed him tenderly on the top of his head.

His ears flattened as she did it, and he almost immediately smoothed out the area where she'd kissed him, but he couldn't hide the blush tickling his cheeks and ears. Her behavior was cheesy as all get out, but privately he knew she was right. He did care, even if he'd never admit it.

Just then, something, or... someone, slipped underneath the door. A white-furred, lanky somebody.

"Pinky!!" Brain yelped.

Brain leapt off of Rachel in a flash, landing hard on the floor and limping a little as he ran into Pinky's outstretched arms.

"Brain!!" Pinky shouted right back. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again!!"

He twirled him around in a circle or two before Brain became aware of what he was doing and promptly pushed himself out of Pinky's grasp, clearing his throat, once again embarrassed.

"Y-Yes, well.... I'm... glad you're safe, Pinky," Brain replied awkwardly, patting his companion on the head.

"Ohhh! Who's this, Brain?" Pinky asked, pointing up at Rachel, who still sat in her computer chair, smiling down at them both.

"Umm.... Pinky, this is Rachel. She's... an old friend."

"Nice to meet you, Pinky! I've heard a lot about you. Well, maybe not heard, but... I've seen you guys on the tv a lot!" Rachel said, beaming.

"You have?!" Pinky gasped, clasping two paws to his face in surprise. "Did you hear that, Brain? We're famous!!"

"Pinky, we've been famous many times, all of them never lasting as long as I'd like...," Brain recollected.

"Well, yes, Brain, but never to a friend!"

Rachel smiled and leaned forward a little.

"I have a proposition for you guys."

"For both of us? Is that legal, Brain?" Pinky whispered to his cage mate, looking concerned, to which Brain facepalmed.

"Proposition, Pinky, not proposal."

"Ohhhhhhhhh. Well, that's different then, isn't it?" Pinky said, nodding eagerly to Rachel.

"How would you guys like to come room at my place? Just for as long as you need until you can get off your feet."

Once again, Pinky gasped excitedly.

"Can we, Brain?!"

"Well...," Brain pondered, hesitating. The offer, though generous, made him feel rather... helpless and awkward, as if he was intruding.

"You're welcome to any of the food and stuff. I've got havarti," she smirked.

Pinky gasped again.

"Oh, please, please, please, please, pleeeeaaaaase, Brain?!?" Pinky pleaded again.

"You're... sure you wouldn't mind?" Brain asked. "I'd hate to intrude...."

"My house is yours," Rachel said genuinely. "And it comes with a pool table," she added, winking at Pinky.

Pinky was doing his utmost to contain a squeal, biting his lip and practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Brain rolled his eyes.

"Oh, all right...," he relented.

"YAAAAAY!!" exclaimed Pinky, jumping into Rachel's outstretched hand, followed by Brain, as she lifted them up onto her shoulder.

"You'll have to hide in my backpack on the way to the car," she said. "The next guy is about to swap out with me."

And she pulled her backpack up from off the floor and plopped it onto the desk, opening it up. Pinky sprung off her shoulder as if it was a diving board, plunging into the depths of the backpack, which, by all accounts, wasn't very deep. Pinky didn't seem to mind, though. He had fun "swimming" around amongst the snacks, car keys, pencils, wallet, and little sketchpad all the same. Brain simply shook his head, unable to keep a smile off his face. What an idiot.

Rachel was as good as her word. They were given the guest bedroom, along with access to the rest of the house, food included. Provided they didn't draw too much attention to themselves, they were allowed to tinker and plan all they liked within the safety of the back room, and lie low they did, for Acme Labs was on the hunt for a good number of weeks before they gave up on finding them entirely.

Pinky was quite fond of the seemingly unlimited amount of cheese available in the fridge, along with the plethora of movies Rachel had at her disposal. He was often to be found in front of the television, and if he wasn't there he was by Brain's side almost constantly. Brain was most grateful for the space in which to concoct experiments and conjure up plans for world domination, although he had to improvise more often than not, seeing as he didn't have all of the lab's equipment at his beck and call anymore. It was something he sorely missed, but he couldn't say he minded the warm bed and good food that came with their new living quarters either. It was... nice.

Once in a blue moon (which ended up being once a month), Pinky would request Lady and the Tramp for movie night, not just because he liked it, but because of Brain's unusual reaction to it. He liked to watch him subconsciously lean up against Rachel as they sat next to her, eventually breaking down into a fit of silent tears as "La La Lu" danced around the room. Sometimes Rachel would pick him up, holding him close and massaging his head as he calmed against her chest. Oftentimes, Pinky would join them, cuddling up next to Brain as they nuzzled together in Rachel's warm hands.

"I love you, Brain," Pinky would mumble sweetly, giving him an extra squeeze.

"I love you, little one," whispered Rachel, petting him softly.

I love you, too, said Brain in his own little way, holding them both just a tiny bit tighter, a smile creeping its way up onto his face. It was nice, being loved....

~ I love you, too. ~

The End

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

The ending of this is meant to be sort of an alternate to Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain. What if they'd ended up there after running away from Acme instead of at Elmyra's?

I didn’t realize until after writing this that it makes no sense for Rachel to be cool with Brain talking one minute, only to be surprised by it the next. It’s a glaring error on my part, but I left it in as a reminder to myself that I need to be more careful. Lol.

Technically, this whole thing is a self-insert, although the name of the girl is not my real name. It’s actually the cognomen of my very first rat. Ha-ha. But the personality of the character is me -- how I talk; act around animals; and most likely what I’d do if put into this situation. The exception is the chase scene. I don’t think I’d act that... panicked? Who knows, though....

This is kind of a way I show compassion for Brain, seeing as I cannot, of course, give him an actual hug. I love Brain more than any other fictional character I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching on screen. It’s not a romantic love or anything. Certainly not. It’s more... maternal. The desire to love and protect is strong. That combination of: individual with a tragic backstory + laboratory setting + main character who happens to be a mouse = the perfect concoction to turn my heart to mush. I owned rats for many years and have a great love for animals, and tend to get attached to certain fictional characters, so here you have the result. He’d be as averse as ever to physical affection, but if I could hold Brain in my hands, plant a kiss on his head, and tell him he’s loved. I would. Thank God for Pinky.

#fan fiction #pinky and the brain

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rogunetocentral · 1 month ago

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I think a lot of Rogue fans who either do not ship Romy or are multi-shippers have been kinda driven out or made to feel unwelcome Rogue fan spaces for a long long time. There's definitely this belief that if you don't love Romy then you don't love Rogue because Rogue is only as good as her relationship to Gambit.

Rogue is in my top #3 of comic book characters since I was a little child. Some of her most heartbreaking and influential stories happened before she even met Gambit. Her role within the X-Men and popularity with fans was long earned and documented before the 90s rolled in with relationship drama that overtook her character. It was was always incredibly annoying to be made to feel like it was wrong to like Rogue by herself, with other people (romantically and platonically), and outside the context of Romy.

I think it's getting better nowadays because newer fans do tend to love any and everything about characters, so it can be easier to talk about Rogue on different platforms and not have people immediately try to send you to be hanged as a witch.

But on the flipside you have new and old shippers who behave as if Rogue is the whore of Babylon for dating outside Gambit (even though it's excusable as encouraging when he does the same) and any fan of Rogue being single or dating a different person is some crazed lunatic who eats children lost in the woods.

I find those people comical in their intense response to ships like Rogueneto. It reminds me of those anti-vaxxers who would upload videos of themselves shaking and shivering on the floor of Walmart blaming it on the Covid vaccines. Or the Karen's calling the cops on little black kids for having a lemonade stand set up in their neighborhood without a permit. Like, chill all the way the fuck out. It's fictional characters. Nothing that happens will impact your life. Roguneto won't steal your significant other on your wedding day, or drain your bank accounts, or punch your grandma in the face and run off with her emotional support Yorkie.

The stuff with GS on twitter only fans the flames of those weirdly intense people. Just ask Tim Seeley, the man hasn't known peace since the savage land Rogue mini was announced. It's all so ridiculously stupid to deal with.

Not Gail Simone deleting her post after being called out without even acknowledging the issue.

The twitter post she deleted was of her saying ‘lol this person keeps going’ towards someone (probably younger person) who was defending themselves from the army of people harassing them in her X-men/Rogue relationships related threads.

She specifically made a new twitter post to make sure that person kept being dragged and made fun of. For a creator with so much weight in the comic book industry this was disappointing to see.

#fandom discourse #fandom critical

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june-louise · 4 years ago

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A rarity of a moment

Fan fiction about Elizabeth and Philip from The Crown (set sometime after 1x06), just because I ship them and felt the urge to write a little something for the first time in years.

....

Elizabeth gave a small sigh as she picked up the speech she was supposed to give in a few hours. She hoped the changes she instructed had been added to the notes and as she read through the appropriate and well induced sentences about the opening of the children’s centre in Nottingham, she smiled to herself as she discovered that this time the speech actually felt quite good. Perhaps it had something to do with the passionate and driven men and women who has initiated this important installation, she pondered as her eyes flickered through the speech. Her fingers played with the pearls around her neck as she memorised the words best she could even though her eyes were quite tired after hours of paperwork already. The last couple of months had been a whirlwind of work and there had been little time to reflect on the life-changing turn her whole life had taken when becoming the Queen of England. One day at a time, tackling one task at a time had been made her epigraph.

A knock on the wooden door disturbed her focus and Michael apologetically joined her temporary office. “Sorry to disturb, your Majesty.”

Elizabeth briefly looked up. “What is it, Michael?”

Her private secretary uncomfortably cleared his throat. “It’s the Duke, ma’am.” His words made Elizabeth abandon the speech and lift her gaze to the man approaching her desk. “Apparently his Royal Highness and Mr Avison Parker has been in a small car accident. No major injuries reportedly, but-” he paused and nervously studied her reaction. Elizabeth lifted her eyebrow, her lips tight as she gave him her full concentration, the icy blue in her eyes giving way to no emotion. She had become some expert of concealing her true feelings. Michael continued, “caution has been made and they are both with the doctor. It seems as if Mr Avison Parker has injured his arm and ribcage, while His Royal Highness luckily escaped any injuries. Unfortunately, the press has taken notice, but we are working on it, ma’am, so it will hopefully not make it into tomorrow’s papers.”

Elizabeth tightened her jaw. “I see,” she began and stood from the chair by the desk, straightening her skirt before walking toward the window. Rain smattered against the glass, the wind strong outside.

“We have arranged for a phone call, ma’am.” Michael gestured to the phone placed next to the abandoned notes on the desk.

Elizabeth felt her arms tighten, taking a deep breath as she contained her emotions. “Yes, of course.” She walked up to the desk yet again and paused when reaching for the phone. “Thank you, Michael.” The man gave a nod before leaving the room, carefully closing the doors behind him, off to make sure the issue was being handled properly.

She took a deep breath before lifting the phone to her ear. “Yes,” she said with the voice of a true aristocrat.

“Elizabeth,” her husband carefully started on the other end of the phone, his voice sounding quite small. “I am sorry. I am fine.”

“So I hear.”

“We were just driving, and some idiot had placed a bicycle in the middle of the road. Mike made sure I was protected and pretty much took the whole hit himself, poor boy.”

She let him talk for a few more moments, his excuses not moving her in the slightest. “Elizabeth?” Philip tried after a while when noticing that she had yet to say another word. “You still there?”

“Had you been drinking,” she suddenly blurted out, voice annoyed and accusing. When there was no immediate respond, she continued. “Of course you had. What were you thinking? Have you any idea to what extent this could cause a scandal,” she spat, her voice harsh and menacing. “They already hate us and are just waiting for us to make a mistake. We cannot afford to make mistakes, Philip.”

“I know,” he got out before she continued, interrupting his apologies, once again letting him know that she was Queen and he was not.

“You really should know better. Do you even think about your children and what your reckless behaviour could lead to, them not growing up with a father.” She knew she was crossing a line and was acting quite mean, but she could not stop herself, the anger consuming her entire being. Did he not understand what pressure she already was under, what scrutiny their lives were doomed to hold? She refused to let him or anyone else, let alone Mike, jeopardize the monarchy or their family like this.

Philip took his opportunity to interrupt when she paused to breathe, letting her know his hurt feelings. “I told you I was sorry. And quite frankly, I was hoping you at least be happy I was not hurt. But guess I was hoping for too much from my wife.” He spoke the last word with an irritated and hurt spat and continued. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I shall speak to the doctor. See you when you get home.”

Before she could reply he had ended their call and Elizabeth was left standing with the silent phone held to her ear. She felt a sting of hurt but quickly brushed it off, composing herself and putting the phone down while returning to her seat by the desk and the speech. She was queen after all, and composure was her expertise.

….

While the rain smattered onto the umbrella being held over her head, Elizabeth curled her lips into a content smile as she welcomed the applause from the crowd in front of her. As true Englishmen, no one seemed too bothered by the weather as they clapped while the rainfall caused their coats and hats to turn into a darker shade of grey and black. It was in these moments she felt proud of her country and seeing all these people gathered, not only to meet and listen to her, but to celebrate the hard work of this fine children’s centre the whole community had helped create in a common belief and hope of the future.

Making her way down the stage, ushered through the crowd stopping every once in a while to shake hands and be introduced to left and right, thanked and cheered she kept her head high and her smile as bright as she could. These people deserved it, they deserved to be seen by their sovereign.

“Thank you for coming, your Majesty,” they said with a bow or a curtsey.

As she made her way closer to the awaiting car, Elizabeth’s eyes caught onto a blonde woman who seemed to be her own age. She approached the woman who gave her a kind smile.

“Hello,” Elizabeth said in her most charming voice.

The blonde woman made curtsey respectfully before speaking, her voice revealing a gentleness which made the queen soften. “It’s an honour to meet you, your Majesty.”

“Likewise,” Elizabeth smiled, with a hint of uncomfortableness as she shook the woman’s dainty hand.

“If I may, ma’am,” the blonde carefully started with obvious shyness yet determination. “I would like to tell you that I have always admired you so. We are the same age, you see, and I married my husband the same year as your Royal wedding. I was so proud to be his wife.” The woman beamed, and Elizabeth could not help but reciprocate the gesture.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied, and not sure what to say but wanting to give the kind woman something, she continued. “Congratulations then on your 6th anniversary this year.”

The woman’s hazel eyes saddened for a moment but then lit up again while she spoke. “Sadly, I lost my husband a year ago. But I am always reminded of him, and all our happy times, whenever I see you, your Majesty, and your husband. Thank you for reminding me of him, and for giving us all such joy.”

For a quick moment Elizabeth let an insecure and vulnerable look escape her strong façade, and she gave a sad smile. “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be, ma’am. We had good years, and we have a little boy who looks just like his father.” There was something angelic over the woman’s face and Elizabeth envied her joy, at the same time as she pitied her painful loss.

Taking her hand into her gloved one yet again, Elizabeth gave it a light press before letting go and being ushered into the car. As the car drove away, she made one last wave to the people, and watched the blonde woman through the back window. It was rare that she met with strangers like this anymore, she thought and pondered about the small conversation she had just had.

….

An hour later Elizabeth was all dressed up in a sapphire dress, as she joined a dinner held at the city hall. She tried her best to keep her appearance, as she always must, but felt her thoughts more than once drift back to the woman she had met and the words she had spoken about her husband. Elizabeth felt a sting of guilt for having her husband safe and sound, while this obviously wonderful woman had lost hers. Yet the woman had had such a grateful and positive way of being, while Elizabeth acted cold and dismissive toward her husband.

She and Philip for sure had had their problems since her entering the throne, but lately it all seemed to have become worse. They barely saw each other, and when they did it was often during formalities or in argument over something. She could not remember the last time they had shared an evening together, or even yet shared bed. It was all so complicated, living a married life in Buckingham palace.

She made a deep sigh of relief as the dinner finally ended and localised Michael where he stood by the corner of the ballroom. “I want to go home, Michael. Please arrange for me to go home as soon as possible.” Her words came as a bit of a surprise to her, the spontaneity to have made such a drastic decision before she even had come to understand why she felt such an urge to return home at this late hour being somewhat unusual.

Michael, if feeling the same surprise, hid it well and simply nodded and made his way to make the arrangements while the queen paid the respects and thanked everyone for the warm welcome and the wonderful dinner, ever the daunting queen.

….

The familiar smell of portraits and perfectly polished carpets filled her nose as she climbed the stairs to her private quarters. She had dismissed her maid, making sure everyone leave her and Philip alone for the night.

Closing the dark wooden doors behind her, she let out a shaky breath and stepped out of her shoes as to not make any noise to wake Philip who was asleep since a few hours already. The clock on the wall let her know it was a good few hours past midnight. Philip’s door to their adjoining hall was open and she quietly stepped into his bedroom. It was embedded in darkness except from the moon sweeping a dim light through the window curtains.

Philip was sound asleep she heard, his soft breathing being the only noise filling the room. He had never been a snorer, even after nights out drinking, and she was reminded of how long it had been since she has listened to him sleep. She carefully stepped closer to his bed, cautious not to make the old wooden floor creak.

It was not like her to give into this urge to see him, lately she did not even know if she had felt this urge. Yet now it was there. Something about the woman losing her husband and speaking of their happy years, reminded her of her own affection to Philip. An affection which was always there, even though she had not let it bother her lately. Now though, it felt as if it consumed her.

Philip, her Philip, in his navy blue pyjamas never looked more sweet. The way he was so still and quiet reminded her of happier times. Of years lost to duty and sacrifice.

She felt her throat thicken, swallowed and as not to wake him up she quietly made her way back to her own bedroom.

Undressing from the dress she had insisted to keep on in order to save time, she got rid of her stockings and undergarments. She lifted the white nightgown over her head and removed the jewellery, wanting to get rid of all the things Elizabeth the queen had to wear.

She made her way to her dressing table to remove her makeup. While moving her fingers over her face in the well-practiced routine, her eyes are caught on the one jewel that she had kept on, glimmering in the mirror. Her engagement ring. She never takes it off, even after all these years and even after all the fights. It is her most beloved possession. It represents who she was when she was someone to fall in love with, to choose this life with despite all of the sacrifices. She needs to remind herself of that girl, Lilibet, because sometimes she seems so far away these days.

As she sees a glimpse of that girl in the mirror, hot tears form in her eyes, and she closes them shut while gently tugging at the ring on her finger. A single tear find itself down the alabaster skin of her cheek. The words from before tug at her heart. “I married my husband the same year as your Royal wedding. I was so proud to be his wife.”

An urge to go to her husband fill her entire body and she rises, wiping her tear and dabbing at her eyes before abandoning her room to again open the adjoining doors. She pushes her pride aside and open the doors to Philip’s room for the second time that night.

Greeted by darkness, she must wait for a few moments before her eyes get used to the surroundings and she can see the form of her husband on the bed. She can hear his soft breathing and walks close, stepping out of her slippers and carefully sit on the bed, bringing her legs up under her. Philip does not move so she gently lift her hand to brush against his where is rests on top of the covers. She has always adored his strong body and been a victim under his touch. As her fingers dance over his hand, up over his arm and back again, Philip moves and rolls onto his side, burying his head deeper into the pillow. He looks so innocent when he sleeps, she thinks and tries to remember the last time she studied him like this. She cannot remember. She has missed it. To be near him like this. They seldom sleep in the same bed anymore. Most nights she does not think much about it, but every once in a while, when she goes to bed without him, when he is god knows where out with Mike, a sadness lingers over her. She does miss her husband, and the days where they would share bed every night.

“I am always reminded of him, and all our happy times, whenever I see you, your Majesty, and your husband.”

The thought of losing the man sound asleep beside her, makes her heart ache. Not only the accident which could have been far worse, but the fact that her position as queen has sent Philip away from her to a place where he is happier without her causes the wetness to return to her eyes. Lifting the covers, Elizabeth carefully slips underneath, and curls close to the only person in the world her heart belongs to and has ever belonged to. Her forehead rest against his and she clings her hand to his, bringing it to her lips and pressing a tender kiss against the soft skin. The action causes Philip to stir and as he wakens, he opens his eyes, confused at first.

“Elizabeth,” he murmurs in question and blinks the sleep from his eyes. Blue eyes meet each other there in the bedroom, for the first time in very long. “Why aren’t you in Nottingham?”

She swallows and shifts on the bed, her gaze falling on his entangled hand in hers. She watches his fingers intertwine with hers and feel him shift slightly so that his other arm moves around her body, gently pulling her against him so that he lays on his back and she is rolled against him on her side. Feeling her throat thicken again and the hotness burn behind her eyes, Elizabeth cannot make a sound in fear of bursting into tears. “I’m sorry,” she finally mouths in a whisper and release a shaky breath while lifting her gaze to meet his.

She is met by a rare gentleness in his eyes and she feels more vulnerable than she has felt in a long time. She cannot make herself say the words but hope her eyes can signal her apology. Philip, too, is a proud man and their communication is seldom made with many words. Yet she feels as if she should say something, anything, to make him understand the way she feels. Her lip suddenly quivers, and she curses her inability to control her emotions. “I miss you,” she releases and gives into the sob that bangs at her chest for release. Her vision gets blurry and she finds herself embraced into the warmth and comfort of her Philip, strong arms wrapping around her and soft lips pressing a kiss to her head as she rests her face into the crook of his neck. She is filled with his scent and with every shaky inhale it fills her up with a calmness and comfort she has not given herself permission to need lately.

“I miss you, too, my Lilibet,” Philip whispers into her hair.

#the crown #queen elizabeth ii #duke of edinburgh #prince philip #claire foy + matt smith #matt smith #claire foy #fanfic

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otp-armada · 5 years ago

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"Bellarke doesn't make sense," they say. They say because Clarke hasn't done anything that resembles romantic gestures toward Bellamy.

Conceding to march to her possible death in exchange for Roan sparing Bellamy's life. Obstinately fighting against Bellamy's stubborn wishes to remain outside the Ark while Praimfaya burns to the world to ashes. Shattering her soul by choosing 100 people to live and writing his name on the list, because he must survive. She can't have it any other way. Relinquishing 50 of those spots to Azgeda when Bellamy is captured and threatened, and Roan calls her bluff. Desperation driving her to the extreme to ensure the survival of the human race, yet unable to kill Bellamy to keep the bunker closed and the grounders from possibly killing Skaikru. Leaving the guaranteed safety of the fort to stay by Bellamy's side on the brink of global cataclysm. The bittersweet yet soft head and heart exchange she prompted. The hesitation in her last remark before imploring him to hurry.

4x13 ends six years and seven days post-Praimfaya with Clarke radioing Bellamy on the Ring. An activity she performs daily for six years. In any six years of my adult life, my only daily consistencies have been limited to breathing, eating, and sleeping. This girl is devoted enough to send her equivalent of love letters into the emptiness of space for 2,199 days. Season 5 opens with her trying to survive by herself in an apocalyptic wasteland. She spends her journey narrating to him her unvarnished struggles during the most traumatic experience of her young life to date. Her despondency. Her loneliness. Her agony. Her desperation. Her small victories. Her discovered treasures. Her determination. Her doubt. Her guilt. Her defeat. Her morbid self-reflection. Her relief and contentment. Her happiness. Her admission of missing him. She shares all of it with only him. Only he is permitted to know her to this depth. Not any of her other people on the Ring. Not any of her people in the bunker, a group including her mother. Not a spiritual communion to the great, big love of her life Lxa, situated on her throne in the high heavens and waiting for her trophy wife, for Clarke to stay connected to her dearly departed. Isn't that the sort of behavior that might occur by a bereft widow?

After finding an oasis to rest and call home, even after discovering a companion to build a life with, she continues with her radio calls. It doesn't matter that he never received her communications. The importance of the gesture- the intimacy of sharing her life and thoughts with him while he was gone- remains the same. The magnitude of her devotion to him made clearer through the absence of a single responding utterance.

She lovingly tells Madi stories of Bellamy as her hero. Gazing warmly, hopefully up at the stars as if she longs for her vision to cut through an endless pitch-black sky and find dark curls and freckled constellations from thousands of miles away.

"Bellarke doesn't make sense," they say. They say because post-Praimfaya ended with an established B/E.

As Clarke looks up at the stars, questioning if she'll see Bellamy again, we transition to our first glimpse of Bellamy after six years, forlornly looking down on Earth to the very spot of green where he is unaware of who is yearning for him to return to her. Contrary to Clarke, who is covered in warm firelight when thinking of him, he is colored in cold, muted greys and blue, no speck of warm hue. (The rhyming scheme was unintentional, but hey, I'm going with it.) Behind him, his family is sparring, but he's distant from them. He's trapped within this tin can, his arms folded, his body taut, not facing the view on the other side of the glass, but still enraptured by the sight of his home below.

We see what changes to the characters and their dynamics have taken place until, at long last, we uproariously cheer as Bellamy & Co. find a way to return to Earth, the sole event we've been anticipating for eleven months, to the point we could feel it at our fingertips, jittery and tingly. Bellarke reunion!! He's going to know she's alive! Yes! Finally!! Break out the champagne! We're celebrating, dammit! It's going to be so damn emotional! Authors start crafting mental fanfics. People are bouncing off the walls like bright, errant fireworks, unable to sit still. I can't believe it's finally happening...what do you think it's going to be like? Will he run to her? Will he be stunned and speechless? Will they sob uncontrollably?!? They'll be clutching the life out of each other! Another Bellarke hug!! The very best hug!!! They're never going to let the other out of their sight again! He's going to meet Madi! Mom, dad, and adopted preteen make three!!! There's no way they're not getting together after this!! He just got her back after six years of thinking she was dead!! The reunion's not going to happen this episode, but maybe next week, when do you think? You mean we have to wait seven days before----

B e c h o.

We stood on the precipice of what we agonized and crawled through for eleven excruciating months, only for an anvil to drop, and our heads to be clubbed. Our bodies fell through the floor, descending lower and lower with immense haste, to take up residence in the seventh circle of hell.

Do you think the framing of these events wasn't intentional?

Do you think the powers that be behind the creation of that calamitous bombshell for our protagonist, intended for us to root for B/E?

By us, I'm not restricting the effect of the blow to Bellarke shippers. The entire audience, casual and fandom alike, shippers and non-shippers, was meant to await this reunion. We were all meant to feel devastated by this revelation.

If they didn't want to invoke in us feelings of support for B/E at their inception, how in the name of all things holy is a purported B/E endgame your conclusion?

"B/E doesn't make any sense," they say, "when last we saw them, she was his enemy. Nothing more, nothing less."

Do I think their pre-Praimfaya status as antagonists rendered it impossible for B/E to have a convincing love story or sexual relationship?

I think, if Jason were so inclined, we could have gotten flashback Ring rendezvous of secret trysts between Bellamy and a googly-eyed, blonde-wig-wearing broomstick designated Clarke 2.0. So no, I don't consider B/E a deviation inherently outside the realm of romantic possibility. Jason is an artist, and this show is his canvas. He can give life to almost any whim he'd like in his work of fiction. Not only that, but B/E is also hardly the first pairing in this series modeled by the enemies-to-lovers trope.

"Bellarke doesn't make sense, they'd say, "absent any concrete evidence alluding to a romantic relationship." "Seven years running, and not a trace of romantic love," they'd conclude.

Remind me, what was B/E's sublime prologue into coupling up again?

Furiously choking the life out of an enemy in a fit of rage two episodes before revealing her as his new girlfriend evidently can be considered by some an adequate precursor to a sensational romantic relationship. But endangering Earthkru's lives by risking the wrath of two societies in refusing to let Clarke die, pumping her heart for her to stay alive while begging her to fight so she can come back to him, cannot be.

Either this show is quite the oddity, or it’s fandom's periodic knee-jerk, ass-backwards, charming zeal at play.

The lack of rising development is all the more reason why B/E's grand unveiling demanded perfection. Instead, our first insight into their union is overshadowed by Clarke and the impending Bellarke reunion. B/E isn't central enough to the narrative to warrant focus that would put to rest any discord of illegitimacy. But you know which pair of the two is concentrated on for seven seasons now? Three guesses...

But don't despair. Fandom has decreed, by its own appraisal, the shorthand of kissing and sex has rectified the discrepancy of a complete absence of pertinent on-screen development.

"It's not ideal storytelling," they say, "to exclude B/E's development. But The 100 has historically been a plot-driven, fast-paced, contained drama. It has always evaded expanding on character dynamics to fans' satisfaction.”

The writers have done more to present Josephine and Gabriel as soulmates with less airtime than B/E ever had in total. They don't lack the skill or time to fortify B/E in anyone's mind as the central romance. Jason made a conscious choice not to. Why would he? Does he think the endgame love story of the show's deuteragonist doesn't merit attention to detail by the writing? Or does it seem more likely, it was never his intention for B/E to cross the finish line?

And, for a plot-driven, fast-paced, contained drama, they sure have an awful knack for finding the time to showcase Clarke's kicked puppy reactions to an embracing B/E. We've had three thus far. One for science, one for emphasis, and one to say, "Do you people get it now?"

"Bellarke doesn't make any sense," they say, "if they wanted each other, they'd have gotten together by now."

A long time ago, someone stated, "Lovers are supposed to do that you know and if they don’t do that it means their relationship isn’t romantic if sexual intercourse isn’t added."

And to that, I posed the question, "Where exactly is it written that "if a pairing is not made canon by season [insert arbitrarily chosen number here], it will never be made canon, period?" Was I just absent from fandom class that day and skipped to the lesson on slow-burn ships?" We are going into the final season, and I stand by this question today as I did then. Bellarke could refrain from physical expressions of love and candid confessions to season 17, and their journey could continue to exemplify a love story. Because the absence of either one doesn't preclude two people from falling in love. Nor does the inclusion of either one necessitate two people falling in love.

"Bellarke doesn't make any sense," they say. They say because Bellamy is her dearly beloved, but platonic, best friend.

Well, you've got me there. I'm stumped. How can it be possible for friendship and romantic love to behave as anything but mutually exclusive concepts? It's not as if friendship can be contorted to serve as a foundation for love.

The cornerstones of strong friendships include trust, care, support, devotion, and many other features of a similar nature. Love- deep and genuine love, that is- involves frequent kissing and passionate, vigorous sex. The wilder the display, the stronger the pairing. The dozens of couples, love interests, and sexual liaisons before B/E who have kissed and had sex before dying must not have first consulted the manual for proper protocol.

And the inverse? Once two people fall in love, they cannot fall back to say, a familial connection. No, no, no. Such a regression would be the work of a tragic, reprehensible flaw in the cogs of the universe. Speak nothing of it.

"It doesn't make sense for B/E to break up," they say, "when B/E has stayed together for two seasons sans any indication Bellamy loves Clarke more than Echo, enough to want to leave his loving girlfriend."

How many times has Bellamy tried and failed to honor his commitment to Echo? How many weak attempts are met with a corresponding scene of Bellamy shifting his attention to the girl he tells himself to get over?

Echo leaves for Shallow Valley, his focus immediately turns onto persuading Clarke not to leave his side. He symbolically chooses Echo in the fireside scene by touching her sword. Yet, he looks at his girlfriend for the first time since their separation with the most aloof expression unsuitable for the occasion. No hope to be found anywhere. They share a brief reunion hug, no time for intimacy. He is reunited with Clarke and casts a nervous glance at Echo when bombarded with Clarke's appreciative gaze. Still no time for intimacy between B/E before a decade-long nap, but time can be carved out for a warm, flirty Bellarke reconciliation, complete with intensive heart eyes. No inspired, emotionally wrought, double sunlit embraces for B/E. If Bellamy is going to look out of a window at his future home, he'll either be by himself or snuggling Clarke into his side. There's no place for Echo in the lock of his arms anymore, only room for flanking him in the way loyal lieutenants tend to do. His girlfriend glances over at him as their exploratory team roughly plummets to new territory, and he does the same at Clarke. B/E reconnects lakeside, him asking for a swim with her and leaning into her arms at a campfire. He sits by her side on a swing set, amidst talk of moving their people into an abandoned village. And it's all well and good for B/E, right? They're presenting the front of a happy, unified couple.

Until...Clarke walks away behind his sight, and he leaves Echo's side to seek Clarke's missing presence where the flirting and warm gazes and near confessions are kicked into overdrive. He calls Echo to hear his latest discovery, then proceeds to ignore the hell out of her, communicating exclusively to his co-leader. He stares wistfully at Clarke dancing with her new flavor of the night, cannot stop doing so even while excoriating Echo for her stoicism, expressing his frustration at her inability to fulfill his emotional needs.

He recommits to Echo, as Clarke is kidnapped and her body is stolen, with nary a transition, suggesting we are meant to link the two incidents together. For all his resolve to face the future with Echo, he spends the whole of the next episode with a wary eye on Clarke, to the point that he is the first to realize Clarke is not herself. In the ensuing arc ranging from 6x05 to 6x11, approximately half of the season, what was B/E, again? Was that a thing concurrently happening with Bellamy's Operation: Save My Clarke? Because I seem to be able to recall only Bellarke goodness. Oh, my mistake, there was the consoling hug which, oddly enough, did nothing to soothe him. As evidenced by his choice to grieve alone. No girlfriend he wanted close by for comfort, knowing clear as day she couldn't provide it if she tried. Not with who he just lost.

B/E gets another brief reunion hug, the majority of which is spent with him peering at Clarke. The show saw that hug and raised us an Austenesque-quality counterpart that would do Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy proud.

"B/E endgame is the only sensible outcome," they say, "they love each other so much."

I don't contend they don't love each other. But we are shown two people determined but incapable of snuffing their deep-rooted feelings out of noble propriety, and most importantly, out of needless fear of unrequited love. And another two people who sought- and failed- to keep grasping the wisps of a gentle relationship slipping out of their hands since they left their comfortable space bubble. For anyone in this conundrum to be happy, the only natural course of action is for the latter to call it quits. The writing has been on the wall for too long.

Maybe a single Bellarke scene plucked out of the lineup can be interpreted on its own as platonic buddies being platonic buddies. But when all those individual moments are woven together, what forms is an ornate tapestry with a pattern so vivid, any inane rhetoric involving a hint of the word "platonic" is little more than ludicrous anti drivel transparently cooked up by those wishing a different endgame.

I hope you've enjoyed my second long-winded rant, @sometimesrosy, @jeanie205, @travllingbunny. One born of a teaching moment in which I learn for the umpteenth time it's best to steer clear of Twitter.

#the 100 #bellarke #b/e #c/b/e #my post

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lanonima · 4 years ago

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First review of the new year! I also decided that once I hit twenty, I'll start a new graph because this one is getting pretty crowded. There's plenty of open space, but I'm not likely to read stuff in that open space so…

Anyway, my review of Copper Coins:

Romantic - Fucky is not how risque a work is but rather my opinion of the attitude/quality of the main relationship, the way the characters interact with respect to one another. I like a lot of stuff in fiction but if you’re easily made uncomfortable, stay towards the top half.

Easy reading - Plot-heavy is how I personally consider the plot’s intricacy and successful implementation, regardless of the author’s intention.

Copper Coins

Author: Mu Su Li

Quality: 5

Enjoyment: 4

Comments: Oof. I hate, absolutely hate, saying the phrase "show don't tell" about novels because it has to do with screenwriting and doesn't really apply to novels all that much but damn. This book was so surface level. I did not feel a single emotion the entire time. It actually reminded me a little bit of Nan Chan, and retroactively made me like that book better because I would definitely rather reread that than this. Not saying it's a bad book, I'm sure it's fine, and if you liked Nan Chan and want a relationship with a similar dynamic and are less of a bitch than I am, you will probably like this one too. It just doesn't have enough emotional depth to be entertaining to me.

Would I read it again: No, and I won't read anything else by this author either.

The reviews of things I previously read are below the cut.

Mo Dao Zu Shi

Author: MXTX

Quality: 9.5

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: I have a huge emotional connection to this novel. There are some weak parts, the tension isn’t quite even, she’s pretty terrible at erotic scenes and not great at fight scenes…but that being said, I love the characters and some of the plot points really ripped my heart out. This is a novel that’s really driven by the characters so if you’re a character-focused person like me, definitely look into it (as if we all don’t already know it lmao). I really, really love this story. Every single adaptation of it has also been great, but the novel is still my favorite. It was my introduction to xianxia novels too, so you can say it changed my life!

Would I read it again: I’ve already read it twice, and consumed every adaptation (sometimes also multiple times)

Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Author: MXTX

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 5

Comments: I’m not much of one for comedy and, as I discovered, not really into system novels either. Clearly weaker than MXTX’s later work, many of the characters are somewhat bland, she hasn’t quite found her groove yet. It’s not my style but the fandom is hilarious and the fans constantly produce content that I actually do find entertaining so overall I still have some fond feelings for this one, even if not for the source material.

Would I read it again: I found a different translation and am willing to try again in the future, I’m also willing to watch the donghua. But I can’t guarantee I’ll like it any more than previously.

Tian Guan Ci Fu

Author: MXTX

Quality: 10

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: I love this book…but not as much as I love Mo Dao Zu Shi. I think the plot is somewhat typical, however the characters are great once again (though maybe slightly less deep than MDZS), and her use of thematic repetition and foreshadowing are killer. Actually, I liked this book more the second time around because it just hits differently. Definitely the best of MXTX’s couples, they are so soft and sweet. Very long, but worth it.

Would I read it again: I already have, was personally translating the manhua before I hurt my arms, and am eagerly awaiting the donghua this fall!

The Villain’s White Lotus Halo

Author: A Big Roll of Toilet Paper

Quality: 10

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: Fuck, I love this one so much…..even though it’s also a system novel. But that part is in it so rarely that it reads more like pure fantasy. I love the characters, I love the plot, I love the way the relationship is developing. Oh yeah, the translation isn’t even complete but I already purchased not only the original from JJWXC but also the print edition. I’ve even drawn fanart for it, which is so unlike me. Every time a chapter comes out, I’m ruined for the rest of the day, I can’t think about anything else. Good fight scenes, which is uncommon. My favorite danmei novel so far.

Would I read it again: I fully intend to once the translation is complete, and also plan to read it in Chinese later (I’ve already read certain parts in Chinese hahaha but not the whole thing)

2Ha (Husky and his White Cat Shizun)

Author: Meatbun Doesn’t Eat Meat

Quality: 8

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: 2Ha is not for the faint of heart, it’s very horny, and violent, and has a lot of questionable content. However I love it so much. The story and characters are great, Meatbun really has me by the heart. The writing is a little more on the casual side but it hardly matters because the story is so great. Good fight scenes. Chu Wanning is like, the ultimate Me™ character, I hate how much I adore him. If you read this, just go into it knowing that it’s a long emotional journey, the characters are very dynamic and there’s a lot of character development.

Would I read it again: Same as the above, I plan a reread when the translation is done and have read parts in Chinese and might read the whole thing again later. Cautiously eager about the up-coming live action and donghua.

Di Wang Gong Lue

Author: Yu Xiao Lanshan

Quality: 2

Enjoyment: 9

Comments: This is one of the most terribly written things I’ve ever read, but I’m a character girl and the characters and ways they interact fucking kill me. I’m constantly entertained….although I don’t think this is actually supposed to be a comedy. If I were going to treat myself and like, take a bubble bath and read something that made me laugh, this is exactly the sort of trashy romance I would want to read. Technically a political intrigue story but it’s so abrupt and full of holes, are any of us reading it for the actual plot? The donghua is on Youtube, I watched it first and recommend others to do the same. If you can handle that, you can handle the book because it’s exactly the same in quality, just gayer. I do love the main couple a lot, the set-up surrounding the relationship is great, and the side characters are also really fun.

Would I read it again: Probably not, but I’m still having fun with it. I watched the donghua and read a bit of the manhua as well, which has very cute art and is probably my favorite version of the story.

Liu Yao

Author: Priest

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 7.5

Comments: I really struggled getting into this one, it took me about 25 chapters to get invested. Initially I had rated it a 6 in enjoyment but after careful thought, I realized that even though it was so hard for me, it probably is my favorite Priest novel and I really do love the main couple so much. Her side characters also seem to be slightly stronger than usual in this one. Decent plot, not too much or too little. It seems really chill to me, doesn’t provoke much of an emotional reaction but I do think it’s very sweet, which is nice sometimes too.

Would I read it again: No, but I think (?) it’s supposed to get some kind of tv adaptation (drama or donghua, not sure), and if that happens, I’ll watch it.

Didn’t Know the General was Female

Author: Rong Qing

Quality: 4

Enjoyment: 6

Comments: Not the greatest thing I’ve ever read, but cute. It’s short, and a little lesbian fluff is never a bad thing. Writing is a bit weak and the plot is basic, but the characters are enjoyable and I liked it overall.

Would I read it again: No.

Wrong Way to a Demon Sect Leader

Author: Yi Zhi Dayan

Quality: 4

Enjoyment: 7

Comments: Again, not the greatest in writing or plot, it’s a bit shallow. But I found the idea of it to be entertaining, and actually liked it more than I would have assumed. It’s fairly short and cute, like a good summer beach read.

Would I read it again: Probably not, but possibly, if the stars align.

Female General and Eldest Princess

Author: Please Don’t Laugh

Quality: 7

Enjoyment: 6

Comments: A very good first effort, but the writing is a bit weak. It’s slow to start and I don’t think the political plotline is spectacularly strong. Some things were left unexplained, and her sense of battle tactics and fight-writing were very confusing, definitely room for improvement. I don’t think it’s as good as people say, but she writes with the air of someone who will continue to improve. And also, a lesbian author writing lesbian stories so that’s a plus. Overall I enjoyed the experience, this story is definitely worth a read.

Would I read it again: Maybe, but probably not.

Sha Po Lang

Author: Priest

Quality: 7

Enjoyment: 7

Comments: Originally I rated this one higher, but on later thought I realized that I actually enjoyed Liu Yao more. I personally have issues with the way Priest writes, and this book showed a lot of them. Characters were okay, I did like the main couple, but side characters were weak as usual. The plot is pretty good, though not great, and I think some of the pacing is off. Some descriptions were confusing, but that could be a translation issue. Overall, still a pretty good political drama, but I would say that of the three I read, this was the Priest novel with the least impact on me.

Would I read it again: No. But I will watch the live action if it ever gets made.

Guardian

Author: Priest

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 5

Comments: I love Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan, thought the plot was interesting, and there were some enjoyable moments. But it has all the problems I usually have with Priest in addition to some choices that offend me as a queer reader. I spent about 75% of the time reading while pissed off. And actually the fact that it had a happy ending kinda bummed me out because I love a good tragedy. Overall, I can only give it an average score. If you like Priest, you’ll like this one too. I’m not a tv person but I binged the hell out of the live action, I really loved it, so I was sort of disappointed that the source material didn’t seem as strong as I had assumed.

Would I read it again: No, but I will happily watch the live action again some day.

Jing Wei Qing Shang

Author: Please Don’t Laugh

Quality: 9.8

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: I have to start off by saying: damn girl. The improvement evident in this book is absolutely insane. A few minor issues prevent me from giving it a 10 out of 10 – her transitions are still extremely abrupt, the ending is slightly weak and some plot points remain unresolved, and her use of narrative repetition is too heavy-handed for my taste. Other than that, this book leaves me almost speechless. Very similar to Female General and Eldest Princess, there are many similar themes and events. But while I thought FGEP was fairly cute, I like this one way better. If you like angst, political intrigue, and lesbians, you should definitely read this book. I have no doubt that Please Don’t Laugh will continue to improve in the future, and I really look forward to following her career.

Would I read it again: 100%, I absolutely intend to read this again sometime in the future. It’s very long and very dense but delightful and ultimately worth it.

Fox Demon Cultivation Manual

Author: Feng Ge Qie Xing

Quality: 8

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: This was a delightful romp. I had expected it to be somewhat silly and was pleasantly surprised. It was heavy enough to be engaging but light enough to be an easy read, with multiple spots that made me literally laugh out loud which does not happen often. This is apparently just one book in a series of same universe novels, and a lighter-hearted one at that. I would be interested to read the others because I found the world pretty engaging, and I do want to know what became of the other characters. Overall I found it very fun and very cute, I read it in four days so that says something. On the downside, the link for chapter 9 is broken. But skipping a chapter doesn’t seem to have affected the experience of the novel as a whole.

Would I read it again: Yeah I think I would be willing to read this again someday. If it gets adapted I would also consume adaptations, in addition to being interested in the other connected works.

Golden Stage

Author: Cang Wu Bin Bai

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 7

Comments: This one has some Sha Po Lang vibes, but the characters have more depth and chemistry. The word ‘more’ here is extremely relative because it’s still pretty shallow. I honestly liked them both, I liked the relationship and the psuedo-rude way that they flirt entertained me. As for the plot…ehhhh. It tried. There were things that worked, but in general the plot seemed disjointed from the characters and there were a few things that had no business being there and just muddied the waters. It’s not bad necessarily, it’s just not very smooth. There are better political intrigues to read if that’s what you want. But if you just want some sugar-sweet fluff with a backdrop of drama, then this one is perfect. My favorite scene was probably the flashback to the first few times they met, absolutely fantastic.

Would I read it again: Nah.

Nan Chan

Author: Tang Jiuqing

Quality: 8

Enjoyment: 6

Comments: This one is kind of weird because it’s definitely competent, it’s well-written and has a fairly in-depth plot, but I just didn’t really enjoy it all that much? I never got emotionally attached to any of the characters, and I didn’t even really get the relationship buildup. I understand what the author is going for with it of course, but it didn’t necessarily make a lot of sense… Or rather it seems like some bits in the middle were just missing, there’s good buildup in the beginning and in the end but how they got from point A to point B was kind of not explored to my satisfaction. I did really like the flashback to the past, I thought that storyline was all pretty interesting. The big bad was kind of disappointing to me as well though. In general, I think this is a really good book with a lot of skill behind it but it’s just not really my thing.

Would I read it again: No.

#book reviews #Copper Coins #lano reads danmei #lano reads baihe

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1188

Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? I did it a couple of times with a past girlfriend, but I’m honestly not a fan of it unless I’m somewhere with a serious lack of bathrooms and it’s the only choice available. I like my space when I get myself all cleaned up lol.

What kind of pizza toppings do you like? Different kinds of cheeses do it for me, really. If I absolutely have to pick toppings, I do like bacon, bell peppers, barbecue chicken, or onions on my pizza.

When did you first take a shot of alcohol? I have no idea, actually. Maybe 20? 21? I never noted the year down. I don’t even know the first shot I ever took...if I had to guess, it was probably tequila.

Did you babysit for money when you were in middle school? No. I babysat because I was the eldest daughter and granddaughter in an Asian household, haha.

Who is your favorite band? How long have they been? Paramore; 17 years, have loved them for 14.

Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? Many times. She used to be a welcome guest.

Have you ever been to a spa? I don’t think I’ve ever entered one, no. There’s been no reason to in the past.

When talking on the phone, do you place it against your left or right ear? Right. I don’t remember ever placing it on my left, come to think of it.

What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? Idk, I’ve never had them. American thing, I’m guessing.

Do you like Bob Marley? I don’t hold an opinion on him; I’ve never tried listening to his music.

Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Nope, I don’t know what that is, either.

Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family? Yes, we have dinner together every night. We’ve been doing it since the start of the pandemic; and, with that, since my dad has had to stay at home since he can’t report to work anyway considering the situation. I imagine we’d be back to eating separately once he can report back to his job.

Are you listening to any music right now? If so, what are you listening to? Yeah, I’m listening to Map of the Soul: 7 and UGH! just started playing. This is such a good FUCKING album it’s absolutely insane how good it is. Whatever spirit possessed BTS throughout 2019 to produce an album this unbelievable wasn’t playing.

Who was the last person to make you genuinely smile? Hobi, since I rewatched the Run BTS segment where he called Conan O’Brien ‘Curtain.’

Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? No.

Do you like men who have a sensitive side? I think it’s nice when anyone has a sensitive side and isn’t ashamed to be in touch and expressive with their emotions. Doesn’t have to apply to just guys.

Have you ever tried to get someone into a certain band/artist? I don’t do that with any of my interests because I don’t want to potentially irritate or bore someone, or to potentially face the disappointment I’d feel when they don’t end up being enthusiastic about what I’m into. I’m totally okay with my interests just being My Thing, no need to drag other people into them.

Have you ever carved you and someone else’s initials into a tree? Nopes.

Do you like Dairy Queen? Just some items, like their Oreo Frappe or whatever it’s called. I’m not a big fan of ice cream cakes and I’ve never really explored their Blizzards.

Is there anyone you know with an amazing personal success story? Andi.

Is there a song in a different language that you can sing? Well Filipino is my first language rather than English, so yes.

How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts? I’ve never experienced this other than One Direction using fireworks at the end of their concert here (and they weren’t launched from the stage either, but somewhere backstage), so I don’t really know what to feel about this other than they should just make sure they’re following safety protocols and standards to avoid mishaps.

Ever fallen down a hole? I don’t think so.

Do you like bananas? Not so much, but I don’t passionately hate it as much as I do other fruits. I do like some dishes that incorporate banana, like banana bread and banoffee pie. Recently I discovered Korean banana milk and it ended up tasting pretty good!

How long do you normally spend in the shower? Not even 10 minutes, usually. I've never understood how people can take such long showers. < Yeah, pretty much on the same page. The only times I take a while is if I feel like shaving, but otherwise I shower quickly. Maybe around 4–7 minutes at most.

Have you ever been a featured member on any website? I don’t think that ever happened, at least when having featured members was still a thing.

Have you ever had any weird pets? Nope.

Are you currently talking to/texting/instant messaging anyone? I am not. Though I know I have unread messages from Andi...I just don’t feel like checking them right now.

Have you ever experienced insomnia? Only when I was a teenager. It’s been a while since I’ve faced any trouble in trying to fall asleep.

Do you like egg nog? I’ve never had a chance to try it but it sounds delicious, and I would definitely take a sip the first opportunity I get.

Would you ever wear Converse with a prom/formal dress? I don’t see why I would have to but if it’s just for funsies, it sounds pretty harmless so yeah, I would.

Do you prefer hot chocolate with or without marshmallows? Withoooooooooout. I’ve never understood marshmallows.

How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over? In a romantic sense, none. But I’ve cried for other reasons, like when I mourned over my grandpa and Nacho.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? Surgeon, since there’s a tiny part in me that had always wanted to take up med school.

Would rather be a musician or a painter? Painter, if anything. I’m not creative by any means, but I feel like I’d enjoy a lot more freedom with painting.

Would you rather write your own book or make your own movie? [continued from last night] Write my own book I suppose, but I could only work with non-fiction. I’d embarass myself if I had to write something not based off of real life.

At home, do you have a trampoline? No. But this reminds me of when we’d go to Rita’s place to have meetings whenever we couldn’t hold them in school. She’s the richest one out of all of us, lives in a very old money village, big-ass house, big-ass kitchen, big-ass receiving areas (plural)...and they also have a nice trampoline in their big-ass yard. We always used to horse around in there as soon as we were done with our meetings.

When you are about to go to bed, do you put on some sort of noise? I used to put on a YouTube video that would entertain me enough to feel relaxed and eventually sleepy, but I haven’t done that in the last few weeks. These days I usually look for a fanfic to get absorbed in, then I read until my eyes start feeling heavy.

What is your favorite Christmas movie? Love Actually or It’s A Wonderful Life.

And what about your favorite Christmas song? It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas makes me feel festive and fuzzy.

What is your ultimate favorite stocking stuffer? My family doesn’t really keep up with this tradition. I remember how our grandparents would fix up stockings for us when we were much younger, but they were usually filled with candy.

After Halloween, do you sort out all of your candy into little piles? I never collected candy for Halloween.

When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it? Depends. The rare times I’m working and do feel like putting headphones on, the volume has to be just decent enough so I can still focus. If I’m not doing anything else or at least doing something that doesn’t involve too much ~brain activity~, I like my music very loud.

What did you have for breakfast this morning? It doesn’t really count as breakfast but I’m currently finishing off the remaining two pieces of McNuggets I got last night. 10 pieces is apparently too many for my appetite, haha.

What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? Cooper has probably been the biggest and heaviest so far.

Do you own any kind of helmet? We have a bike helmet here at home, but it’s not exclusively mine.

Out of everything currently in your refrigerator, what food or drink is your favorite? I don’t memorize the fridge so I can’t tell you my favorite food that’s currently in it; as for drink, I just stick to cold water.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Sprained ankle after I tripped at one of the parking lots in school.

Do you like the taste of cough syrup? I’ve never had it.

What is something you like to have conversations about? People with experiences vastly different from mine, because it lets me explore different perspectives. It’s why I always look forward to family reunions with one of my uncles - who’s a foreigner, from a very different country - since he’s able to share a lot of fun and reflective stories about his life and stuff he did in his youth, stuff I never got to experience and live through.

What all is in the trunk of your car? The trunk used to be my trash can lmao, back when I was still driving everyday. My mom has since cleared it out since the beginning of the pandemic; I believe only a laptop bag is sitting there now.

Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? No. I don’t even eat either.

Is your heat or air conditioning currently on? My electric fan is. I don’t turn on the aircon until the evening.

Have you ever fallen off of a horse? Nopes.

Which do you value more, your appearance or your intelligence? Both are important to me.

When was the last time you drove something other than a car or truck? I don’t remember. I’ve only ever driven cars.

Were your grandparents present when you were born? Neither set wasn’t in any of the photos from my birth, so I don’t think so...? My maternal grandparents definitely wouldn’t have been present, since my parents had been living in Manila then.

If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things? I vape...pretty much all day. I’m doing it while taking this survey. As for drink, I would say 1-2 times a month. Usually after a particularly grueling shift.

What do you think of fast food? I love it. Unabashedly. I just don’t have them a lot because I don’t find it filling and the quality is obviously lower; but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the way fast food tastes.

What website do you spend the most time on and why? Google Suite, if it counts. I work 5 days a week; it’s pretty much an extension of me at this point.

What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you? All day. I’m always using the internet to do things. I used to be embarrassed of it, but these days I feel like having a connection is virtually an essential.

When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? Museums, historical sites, cultural sites, and spots where they show you how they do practices native to the place. I’ve always been about immersing myself in the cultures of the places I visit.

What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it? I remember having to walk for a very very very VERY long time when we were in Bali - my family wanted to explore more of the city - and the weather wasn’t cooperative at all, so I ended up feeling super cranky. I remember also walking around a lot in Shanghai, but that was a slightly better experience since the city was incredibly lively and there were a lot of things to see and stop at; not to mention the weather was also kinda pleasant. The cold was biting but I would always rather be too cold than walk around with sweat-soaked clothes.

What is something important that’s often on your mind lately? Our financial situation what with Covid affecting both my parents’ jobs. We get by enough for me not to worry too much, but I also hope my dad can get called back to his ship soon just so I can finally exhale with relief.

What about something unimportant, but you can’t stop thinking about it? My workplace recently introduced this workout challenge thingy for the month of May that we’re invited to join to encourage us to get fit and healthy. I get notifications whenever someone’s able to exercise for the day and it makes me feel super pressured hahahaha. Since I don’t wanna be known as a killjoy co-worker I know I’ll have to take part in it, which I will start on later.

Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it? No. Back in elementary my grandma made me eat oatmeal every day for breakfast before heading to school, so I don’t ever want to have another bowl of it.

What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic? My family and I were having a conversation during dinner last night and for some reason it eventually veered towards mine and my sister’s experiences from our first school and how we managed to get up at 5 AM everyday, have classes from 7 AM–4 PM, then get home from anywhere between 5–6 PM for 14 years straight. How tf did we do that and never complain???

How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything? None.

What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? While I love watching playthroughs, I am not skilled at video games at all and in most video games I’ve played I never made it past the first mission, unless I was playing a Nintendo game that’s already marketed for kids in the first place lol.

Which accent do you find most sexy, alluring or appealing? There’s a certain British accent I find very pleasant to listen to, but since I know there are a lot of variations I’m just not sure which one it is. I guess an accurate point of reference would be Hugh Grant’s or Florence Pugh’s accent.

Which accent do you find most annoying, disturbing, or bothersome? None of them.

Can you cry on cue? Is it any kind of useful? Nope.

Does it take you a while to actually get jokes? Sometimes.

Can you wear socks to bed or does it annoy you? I don’t really like the feeling of socks, so no. I find them a bit itchy, and too tight.

Have you ever bleached your hair? Never done it before.

Do you like jelly beans? Erm, it would depend on the flavor, I guess. But they aren’t so much my snack of choice. The texture is a bit weird.

Do you have trouble sleeping when it’s storming? Not at all, I feel a lot cozier when it’s raining hard.

Who was the last person you know that graduated? (high school or college) Sofie posted her graduation photo not too long ago, so probably her.

Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming? I never had a babysitter because I was the babysitter.

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten? No. I went to an all-girls school, so I didn’t even get to interact with a lot of boys until the middle of high school.

Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series? Nope.

Who was your best friend in elementary school? Angela. I was also friends for a long time with a girl named Jaynie, with whom I actually started to reconnect ever since she found out I was now into BTS. I find it so cool; I don’t think I’ve talked to her since the 2nd grade, 15 years ago.

Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies? I didn’t.

Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. I'd put them on my dresser everywhere to the point it was absolutely covered. < Literally this entire answer; I don’t have any clue how my overly neat mom managed to never spank me for destroying her closet. I also liked collecting Pokemon cards and pogs even though I never knew how to use them. It just felt nice having large stacks of them lol.

Did you get an allowance? Not until high school. My grandma (and eventually househelp, when we moved) fixed up packed lunches for me and my siblings. When my mom decided to stop having house helpers at home, that’s when she started giving us an allowance to buy recess and lunch ourselves.

Were you into American Girl dolls? I was never into dolls in general. Since my sister and I were the only girls at home, we were surrounded by toys marketed for boys and that’s what I enjoyed playing with more.

Were you friends with your childhood neighbors? We played with the neighborhood kids every afternoon but I wouldn’t call them friends. I was a very shy kid and I found them too rowdy for my liking, especially the boys.

What was your biggest fear when you were a kid? Flying cockroaches. It’s still one of them.

Did you ever play the "Reader Rabbit" computer games? I don’t think so.

Did your parents let you drink soda growing up? I’m pretty sure they would’ve allowed me to, but I just never liked the feeling of fizzy drinks so I never drank soda anyway.

What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid? I think I liked mocha sponge cakes growing up, but that has changed now.

#survey #surveys

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recentanimenews · 3 years ago

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ESSAY: Berserk's Journey of Acceptance Over 30 Years of Fandom

My descent into anime fandom began in the '90s, and just as watching Neon Genesis Evangelion caused my first revelation that cartoons could be art, reading Berserk gave me the same realization about comics. The news of Kentaro Miura’s death, who passed on May 6, has been emotionally complicated for me, as it's the first time a celebrity's death has hit truly close to home. In addition to being the lynchpin for several important personal revelations, Berserk is one of the longest-lasting works I’ve followed and that I must suddenly bid farewell to after existing alongside it for two-thirds of my life.

Berserk is a monolith not only for anime and manga, but also fantasy literature, video games, you name it. It might be one of the single most influential works of the ‘80s — on a level similar to Blade Runner — to a degree where it’s difficult to imagine what the world might look like without it, and the generations of creators the series inspired.

Although not the first, Guts is the prototypical large sword anime boy: Final Fantasy VII's Cloud Strife, Siegfried/Nightmare from Soulcalibur, and Black Clover's Asta are all links in the same chain, with other series like Dark Souls and Claymore taking clear inspiration from Berserk. But even deeper than that, the three-character dynamic between Guts, Griffith, and Casca, the monster designs, the grotesque violence, Miura’s image of hell — all of them can be spotted in countless pieces of media across the globe.

Despite this, it just doesn’t seem like people talk about it very much. For over 20 years, Berserk has stood among the critical pantheon for both anime and manga, but it doesn’t spur conversations in the same way as Neon Genesis Evangelion, Akira, or Dragon Ball Z still do today. Its graphic depictions certainly represent a barrier to entry much higher than even the aforementioned company.

Seeing the internet exude sympathy and fond reminiscing about Berserk was immensely validating and has been my single most therapeutic experience online. Moreso, it reminded me that the fans have always been there. And even looking into it, Berserk is the single best-selling property in the 35-year history of Dark Horse. My feeling is that Berserk just has something about it that reaches deep into you and gets stuck there.

I recall introducing one of my housemates to Berserk a few years ago — a person with all the intelligence and personal drive to both work on cancer research at Stanford while pursuing his own MD and maintaining a level of physical fitness that was frankly unreasonable for the hours that he kept. He was NOT in any way analytical about the media he consumed, but watching him sitting on the floor turning all his considerable willpower and intellect toward delivering an off-the-cuff treatise on how Berserk had so deeply touched him was a sight in itself to behold. His thoughts on the series' portrayal of sex as fundamentally violent leading up to Guts and Casca’s first moment of intimacy in the Golden Age movies was one of the most beautiful sentiments I’d ever heard in reaction to a piece of fiction.

I don’t think I’d ever heard him provide anything but a surface-level take on a piece of media before or since. He was a pretty forthright guy, but the way he just cut into himself and let his feelings pour out onto the floor left me awestruck. The process of reading Berserk can strike emotional chords within you that are tough to untangle. I’ve been writing analysis and experiential pieces related to anime and manga for almost ten years — and interacting with Berserk’s world for almost 30 years — and writing may just be yet another attempt for me to pull my own twisted-up feelings about it apart.

Berserk is one of the most deeply personal works I’ve ever read, both for myself and in my perception of Miura's works. The series' transformation in the past 30 years artistically and thematically is so singular it's difficult to find another work that comes close. The author of Hajime no Ippo, who was among the first to see Berserk as Miura presented him with some early drafts working as his assistant, claimed that the design for Guts and Puck had come from a mess of ideas Miura had been working on since his early school days.

写真は三浦建太郎君が寄稿してくれた鷹村です。今かなり感傷的になっています。思い出話をさせて下さい。僕が初めての週刊連載でスタッフが一人もいなくて困っていたら手伝いにきてくれました。彼が18で僕が19です。某大学の芸術学部の学生で講義明けにスケッチブックを片手に来てくれました。 pic.twitter.com/hT1JCWBTKu

— 森川ジョージ (@WANPOWANWAN) May 20, 2021

Miura claimed two of his big influences were Go Nagai’s Violence Jack and Tetsuo Hara and Buronson’s Fist of the North Star. Miura wears these influences on his sleeve, discovering the early concepts that had percolated in his mind just felt right. The beginning of Berserk, despite its amazing visual power, feels like it sprang from a very juvenile concept: Guts is a hypermasculine lone traveler breaking his body against nightmarish creatures in his single-minded pursuit of revenge, rigidly independent and distrustful of others due to his dark past.

Uncompromising, rugged, independent, a really big sword ... Guts is a romantic ideal of masculinity on a quest to personally serve justice against the one who wronged him. Almost nefarious in the manner in which his character checked these boxes, especially when it came to his grim stoicism, unblinkingly facing his struggle against literal cosmic forces. Never doubting himself, never trusting others, never weeping for what he had lost.

Miura said he sketched out most of the backstory when the manga began publication, so I have to assume the larger strokes of the Golden Arc were pretty well figured out from the outset, but I’m less sure if he had fully realized where he wanted to take the story to where we are now. After the introductory mini-arcs of demon-slaying, Berserk encounters Griffith and the story draws us back to a massive flashback arc. We see the same Guts living as a lone mercenary who Griffith persuades to join the Band of the Hawk to help realize his ambitions of rising above the circumstances of his birth to join the nobility.

We discover the horrific abuses of Guts’ adoptive father and eventually learn that Guts, Griffith, and Casca are all victims of sexual violence. The story develops into a sprawling semi-historical epic featuring politics and war, but the real narrative is in the growing companionship between Guts and the members of the band. Directionless and traumatized by his childhood, Guts slowly finds a purpose helping Griffith realize his dream and the courage to allow others to grow close to him.

Miura mentioned that many Band of the Hawk members were based on his early friend groups. Although he was always sparse with details about his personal life, he has spoken about how many of them referred to themselves as aspiring manga authors and how he felt an intense sense of competition, admitting that among them he may have been the only one seriously working toward that goal, desperately keeping ahead in his perceived race against them. It’s intriguing thinking about how much of this angst may have made it to the pages, as it's almost impossible not to imagine Miura put quite a bit of himself in Guts.

Perhaps this is why it feels so real and makes The Eclipse — the quintessential anime betrayal at the hands of Griffith — all the more heartbreaking. The raw violence and macabre imagery certainly helped. While Miura owed Hellraiser’s Cenobites much in the designs of the God Hand, his macabre portrayal of the Band of the Hawk’s eradication within the literal bowels of hell, the massive hand, the black sun, the Skull Knight, and even Miura’s page compositions have been endlessly referenced, copied, and outright plagiarized since.

The events were tragic in any context and I have heard many deeply personal experiences others drew from The Eclipse sympathizing with Guts, Casca, or even Griffith’s spiral driven by his perceived rejection by Guts. Mine were most closely aligned with the tragedy of Guts having overcome such painful circumstances to not only reject his own self enforced solitude, but to fearlessly express his affection for his loved ones.

The Golden Age was a methodical destruction of Guts’ self-destructive methods of preservation ruined in a single selfish act by his most trusted friend, leaving him once again alone and afraid of growing close to those around him. It ripped the romance of Guts’ mission and eventually took the story down a course I never expected. Berserk wasn’t a story of revenge but one of recovery.

Guess that’s enough beating around the bush, as I should talk about how this shift affected me personally. When I was young, when I began reading Berserk I found Guts’ unflagging stoicism to be really cool, not just aesthetically but in how I understood guys were supposed to be. I was slow to make friends during school and my rapidly gentrifying neighborhood had my friends' parents moving away faster than I could find new ones. At some point I think I became too afraid of putting myself out there anymore, risking rejection when even acceptance was so fleeting. It began to feel easier just to resign myself to solitude and pretend my circumstances were beyond my own power to correct.

Unfortunately, I became the stereotypical kid who ate alone during lunch break. Under the invisible expectations demanding I not display weakness, my loneliness was compounded by shame for feeling loneliness. My only recourse was to reveal none of those feelings and pretend the whole thing didn't bother me at all. Needless to say my attempts to cope probably fooled no one and only made things even worse, but I really didn’t know of any better way to handle my situation. I felt bad, I felt even worse about feeling bad and had been provided with zero tools to cope, much less even admit that I had a problem at all.

The arcs following the Golden Age completely changed my perspective. Guts had tragically, yet understandably, cut himself off from others to save himself from experiencing that trauma again and, in effect, denied himself any opportunity to allow himself to be happy again. As he began to meet other characters that attached themselves to him, between Rickert and Erica spending months waiting worried for his return, and even the slimmest hope to rescuing Casca began to seed itself into the story, I could only see Guts as a fool pursuing a grim and hopeless task rather than appreciating everything that he had managed to hold onto.

The same attributes that made Guts so compelling in the opening chapters were revealed as his true enemy. Griffith had committed an unforgivable act but Guts’ journey for revenge was one of self-inflicted pain and fear. The romanticism was gone.

Farnese’s inclusion in the Conviction arc was a revelation. Among the many brilliant aspects of her character, I identified with her simply for how she acted as a stand-in for myself as the reader: Plagued by self-doubt and fear, desperate to maintain her own stoic and uncompromising image, and resentful of her place in the world. She sees Guts’ fearlessness in the face of cosmic horror and believes she might be able to learn his confidence.

But in following Guts, Farnese instead finds a teacher in Casca. In taking care of her, Farnese develops a connection and is able to experience genuine sympathy that develops into a sense of responsibility. Caring for Casca allows Farnese to develop the courage she was lacking not out of reckless self-abandon but compassion.

I can’t exactly credit Berserk with turning my life around, but I feel that it genuinely helped crystallize within me a sense of growing doubts about my maladjusted high school days. My growing awareness of Guts' undeniable role in his own suffering forced me to admit my own role in mine and created a determination to take action to fix it rather than pretending enough stoicism might actually result in some sort of solution.

I visited the Berserk subreddit from time to time and always enjoyed the group's penchant for referring to all the members of the board as “fellow strugglers,” owing both to Skull Knight’s label for Guts and their own tongue-in-cheek humor at waiting through extended hiatuses. Only in retrospect did it feel truly fitting to me. Trying to avoid the pitfalls of Guts’ path is a constant struggle. Today I’m blessed with many good friends but still feel primal pangs of fear holding me back nearly every time I meet someone, the idea of telling others how much they mean to me or even sharing my thoughts and feelings about something I care about deeply as if each action will expose me to attack.

It’s taken time to pull myself away from the behaviors that were so deeply ingrained and it’s a journey where I’m not sure the work will ever be truly done, but witnessing Guts’ own slow progress has been a constant source of reassurance. My sense of admiration for Miura’s epic tale of a man allowing himself to let go after suffering such devastating circumstances brought my own humble problems and their way out into focus.

Over the years I, and many others, have been forced to come to terms with the fact that Berserk would likely never finish. The pattern of long, unexplained hiatuses and the solemn recognition that any of them could be the last is a familiar one. The double-edged sword of manga largely being works created by a single individual is that there is rarely anyone in a position to pick up the torch when the creator calls it quits. Takehiko Inoue’s Vagabond, Ai Yazawa’s Nana, and likely Yoshihiro Togashi’s Hunter X Hunter all frozen in indefinite hiatus, the publishers respectfully holding the door open should the creators ever decide to return, leaving it in a liminal space with no sense of conclusion for the fans except what we can make for ourselves.

The reason for Miura’s hiatuses was unclear. Fans liked to joke that he would take long breaks to play The Idolmaster, but Miura was also infamous for taking “breaks” spent minutely illustrating panels to his exacting artistic standard, creating a tumultuous release schedule during the wars featuring thousands of tiny soldiers all dressed in period-appropriate armor. If his health was becoming an issue, it’s uncommon that news would be shared with fans for most authors, much less one as private as Miura.

Even without delays, the story Miura was building just seemed to be getting too big. The scale continued to grow, his narrative ambition swelling even faster after 20 years of publication, the depth and breadth of his universe constantly expanding. The fan-dubbed “Millennium Falcon Arc” was massive, changing the landscape of Berserk from a low fantasy plagued by roaming demons to a high fantasy where godlike beings of sanity-defying size battled for control of the world. How could Guts even meet Griffith again? What might Casca want to do when her sanity returned? What are the origins of the Skull Knight? And would he do battle with the God Hand? There was too much left to happen and Miura’s art only grew more and more elaborate. It would take decades to resolve all this.

But it didn’t need to. I imagine we’ll never get a precise picture of the final years of Miura’s life leading up to his tragic passing. In the final chapters he released, it felt as if he had directed the story to some conclusion. The unfinished Fantasia arc finds Guts and his newfound band finding a way to finally restore Casca’s sanity and — although there is still unmistakably a boundary separating them — both seem resolute in finding a way to mend their shared wounds together.

One of the final chapters features Guts drinking around the campfire with the two other men of his group, Serpico and Roderick, as he entrusts the recovery of Casca to Schierke and Farnese. It's a scene that, in the original Band of the Hawk, would have found Guts brooding as his fellows engage in bluster. The tone of this conversation, however, is completely different. The three commiserate over how much has changed and the strength each has found in the companionship of the others. After everything that has happened, Guts declares that he is grateful.

The suicidal dedication to his quest for vengeance and dispassionate pragmatism that defined Guts in the earliest chapters is gone. Although they first appeared to be a source of strength as the Black Swordsman, he has learned that they rose from the fear of losing his friends again, from letting others close enough to harm him, and from having no other purpose without others. Whether or not Guts and Griffith were to ever meet again, Guts has rediscovered the strength to no longer carry his burdens alone.

All that has happened is all there will ever be. We too must be grateful.

Peter Fobian is an Associate Manager of Social Video at Crunchyroll, writer for Anime Academy and Anime in America, and an editor at Anime Feminist. You can follow him on Twitter @PeterFobian.

By: Peter Fobian

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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t100ficrecsblog · 4 years ago

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an interview with @changingthefairy-tale

What are you working on right now? Right now, I’m focused on BellarkeFic-for-BLM (I just got an amazing canon prompt I’m really excited to finish). I’ve also been participating in this round of the Chopped Challenge, which has been fun and challenging. In between prompts, I’ve got two WIPs that I’m slowly cranking through. Shoutout to every single reader who’s been incredibly patient while I’ve been so slow on those updates — though, reminder that you can donate to a BLM organization (even a $3 donation works) and request an update to get those higher on my prio list while I’m focused on that initiative.

What’s something you’d like to write one day? My absolute dream job and the ultimate goal is to become a showrunner for a prime time TV show. I love TV shows — I love the way actors and directors and crew take a script and breath life into it, I love how you take a general idea for a story and mold it into something amazing as you go, I love how a series gives a story more time to be fleshed out and explored, I love the concept of a writers room and collaborating on a story. It’s a different ballgame from fic writing (which I do for fun) and travel writing (which I do for a living), but I’m determined to make it happen. JRoth, I’m coming for your job, babe. 😉

What is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I’m still really new to fic writing, especially compared to some of the powerhouse writers in this fandom. And I’m sure one of my WIPs (when finished) will probably supersede this. BUT, my one-shot about Madi calling Bellamy on The Ring (She called you for 2,199 days) is something I’m really proud of. I’m a long-winded writer, so one-shots have never come naturally to me. This one just…clicked. It’s got some good lines in there that I’m proud of, and based on the feedback I’ve gotten, it really made readers feel something and connect to the story. It’s not my longest story or my most thought-out. But it shows my growth as a writer these past few months, and I’m proud of that.

Why did you first start writing fic? I started writing fic as a creative outlet for my writing. My day job is writing about travel and credit cards. And while I enjoy that, it’s just not as creative. My dream is to write for a TV show though, and I was craving a way to flex my creative writing muscles in a low-stress way. I started watching The 100 when it first came out, but I didn’t really get into the fandom until I came back to the show during the S5/6 hiatus. That’s when I started reading fics and reblogging stuff about the show on Tumblr. During the S6/7 hiatus, I had this idea for a Greys Anatomy AU, and my sister (who is also a major fan of the show) was like, “You literally write things for a living. If you want to write a Grey’s AU for t100, there is absolutely nothing stopping you.” I published my first chapter on that The Choices We Make in Dec. 2019, and the rest is history.

What frustrates you most about fic writing? For me, I think that the most frustrating thing isn’t even about fic writing itself; it’s the fact that it’s a side-hobby and not something I can dedicate my full attention to. When you write all day for your day job, then do some for your freelance gig, and then turn around and try to write for a few hours every night for fic… that gets hard sometimes — especially since starting quarantine where I’m not traveling, going out with friends, getting a break from it, etc. Fic writing is a creative release for me, and I absolutely love crafting and writing these stories that involve some of my favorite fictional characters. And I love interacting with other writers and fic readers, I love talking about ideas and exchanging headcanons and fangirling over my favorite writers’ works. But (because there’s always a but), sometimes I just don’t have the mental energy or capacity to write at the end of the day when I’ve turned in 3 deadlines for work. I’ve got all these ideas floating in my head, but only so much time and mental energy I can dedicate to it.

What are your top five songs right now? Oh boy. So I live alone, which means I’ve got either music or Netflix on in the background 24/7 because ya girl doesn’t like silence. I have a different playlist for different moods. I’ll share my fav song from each of those playlists. Lol Fvck Somebody by The Wrecks (On my “Summer state of mind” playlist for when I wanna dance it out in my kitchen like an idiot)

Don Quixote by Drapht (On @talistheintrovert’s “My Good Bitch Murphy” playlist for when I’m feeling *edgy*)

that way by Tate McRae (On my “Pandemic Jams” playlist bc I like angsty music and this song is a Bellarke MOOD)

Washington on Your Side from Hamilton (On my “Feeding my Broadway Obsession” playlist for when I wanna sing show tunes and plot overthrowing the government)

Tea by Noah Davis (Shameless plug for Noah bc it’s a bop and I literally dated Noah’s older brother in junior high — so proud of this kid for making his dreams a reality)

What are your inspirations (books, songs, other fic, really good cake)? All of the above, except I like pie more than cake. lol But really, I kind of use everything around me for inspiration. “The Choices We Make” is inspired by my love of Grey’s Anatomy. “Intertwining your soul (with somebody else)” is inspired my the first draft of my YA novel (though the setting was adapted to a grounder canonverse AU). “The Day He Shut That Rocket Door” and “She called you for 2,199 days” were inspired by @historyofbellarke‘s headcanons that were brought up in S7 speccing conversations (shoutout to her for enabling my angsty ass). My most recent WIP “There are some things written in the stars” that I started as part of Chopped (but will continue because I’m obsessed with the idea) is inspired by my love of Timeless. And I have an entire Notion database filled with fic ideas — some one-shots and some multi-chapter fics — that are inspired by quotes, songs, conversations with friends, books I love, shows I adore, random HCs that pop into my head while I watch, my own life experiences, etc. I take inspiration in any form it decides to come in. 💕

What first attracted you to Bellarke? What attracts you now? I’m a ho for enemies to lovers — the idea that you can put your worst foot forward and show someone all the ugly parts of you… and that they’ll see that and somehow look past it to see the good stuff too, falling in love with your whole self instead of just the pretty parts. Yeah, it’s my favorite romance trope. And that tension is what originally drew me to Bellarke. Now, it’s a combination of things. I love each of these characters in their own right. I relate to Clarke in a lot of ways, and I aspire to be her level of badass. I straight adore Bellamy Blake (flaws, stupid decisions, and all) and would marry him in a heartbeat if he were real — I’m not even kidding. lol But I also love their dynamic. They are partners, best friends, perfect compliments to the other. They see each other in a way no one else does, and they are the one person the other constantly risks everything for. They are both so driven by their responsibilities to their people, yet that all typically goes out the window the moment the other is at risk. I don’t believe in soulmates in real life, but it’s nice to get to believe in this fictional world that they are just made for each other.

BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? My favorite character besides Bellarke is John Murphy. His arc has been BY FAR the best on this show, going from that little shit in S1 to this “asshole we love” in the middle to now a true hero in this final season. And through it all Richard Harmon has been amazing to watch on screen.

My favorite pairing besides Bellarke is Linctavia. Yes, that ship is problematic in a lot of ways, but I still loved their dynamic. Lincoln helped Octavia navigate this new world that she was so desperate to be apart of while being mindful of her safety. And I thought they were a good match — he helped tame her fire without putting it out, and she helped challenge the way he was raised. Given time, I think they could have become one of the most stable and loving relationships on t100. Of course, that couldn’t happen because Jason needed Bell’s actions in 3A to have heartbreaking consequences, O to spiral for her own character journey, and whatever mess happened off-screen between Ricky and him. But they still remain my favorite ship aside from Bellarke.

Why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? The second I saw that Sam was planning on doing this, I reached out to ask how I could help/write/be involved. The BLM movement is so important, and this is an amazing way for me to contribute while pursuing my passions. It’s a way for the fandom to get involved and do something good. And ultimately, this helps organizations that need donations. Shameless plug for everyone to please go check out the Bellarke Fic for BLM page — check out the many amazing writers and artists we have participating, and send in prompts. Most of us are allowing WIP chapter update requests, and there are a number of us (myself included) who are matching donations made! No donation is too small, and you’ll be supporting a movement that is a necessity in the U.S. and beyond.

What’s your writing process like? My mind is literal chaos, so I plan and outline like hell in order to make sense of everything. When I get an idea for a fic, it goes on my Notion database. Within Notion, I write down my inspiration for the idea, and a pretty in-depth summary of where I want the fic to go — dialogue ideas, any feelings/emotions I want to invoke, literally just a brain dump of all my ideas. From there, I’ll arrange that brain dumb into an outline. If it’s a one-shot, I’ll generally write the whole thing in the Notion doc. But multi-chapter fics will get a checklist within Notion for me to keep track of progress, and I’ll actually write the fic in Google Docs. I generally start writing from the beginning of a story, but if I get stuck or have an idea for a later scene, the fact that I’ve outlined heavily allows me to jump around as ideas come to me. I’ll read each one-shot or chapter after I’m done to make sure it flows before publishing. I post chapters for my WIPs as I write them, which I should really stop doing. lol For my readers’ sakes, I should work ahead and publish on a schedule rather than making them wait for my slow ass to finish chapter to chapter. But right now, that’s my process!

What are some things you’d like to recommend? Oh goodness, too many fics to possibly name. Instead, I’ll link to my AO3 rec bookmarks (which isn’t all-inclusive of the amazing fics I’ve read in this fandom, but it’s got some good favs in there) and shout out all of our awesome Bellarke Fic for BLM writers. Y’all should check out their work (and send in prompts)!

Where’s the best place to find you (twitter? tumblr?) I’m @changingthefairy-tale on Tumblr and @changingthefairy_tale on AO3! My ask box is always open for anyone who wants to scream about the show, ask about specs, talk about my fics, etc. Come say hey!

#bellarkefic for blm #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #john murphy #bellarke #bellarkefic for blm interviews

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thecarmillacurator · 5 years ago

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Marriage of Convenience - Carmilla Fic Review & Recommendation

Title: Marriage of Convenience

Author: RunWithWolves on Ao3 and @ariabauer on Tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4016743/chapters/9027772

Word Count: 111K

Chapters: 20

Rating: T

Ship: Hollstein

Tags I’d Assign: #fake dating #fake engagement #mutual pining #best friends to lovers #angst #hurt/comfort #politics #hollstein

Trigger Warnings: abuse, childhood abuse, emotional abuse, mental abuse

Author’s Synopsis: Her scheduled weekly Thursday night video calls with her old college roommate are Carmilla's favourite part of the week. However this week's conversation veers off the rails when Carmilla tells Laura that if she doesn't get married soon, Carmilla's going to lose everything she's worked for.

Thankfully, her mother's provided a list of suitable candidates.

Readability: Prose reads smoothly. There are quite a few minor typos, but they’re not distracting and given that the author was writing this for us in the midst of doing one of her Carmilla-writing-a-thon sessions, who the heck cares?

Reviewer’s Plot Summary: Non-supernatural AU. The author’s synopsis doesn’t begin to cover the meatiness of the story. Carmilla is running for MP in a bi-election, and polls reflect that Carmilla’s youth, combined with her single status, have her perceived as being possibly too young and unstable for the position. Her mother, driven to make sure Carmilla is elected, insists she become temporarily engaged for public relation purposes. And it’s here Carmilla pulls the only maverick move she’s ever dared to where it comes to her mother: Rather than choosing from her mother’s “list,” she asks her former university classmate, former roommate, and still-best friend, investigative journalist Laura Hollis, to take the part before her mother can object. Together, the two end up on a parallel journey, individually wishing everything about their engagement were real, while at the same time, it becomes apparent to Laura that Carmilla is not simply influenced by her mother’s intensity, but that she’s actually been conditioned through decades of mental and emotional abuse (I would argue even physical abuse) into a disturbing, programmed-like obedience. Laura does her best to help Carmilla stand, and knows Carmilla needs her strength and support more than ever, but Carmilla has a history of leaving Laura whenever her mother’s influence demands it. Ultimately, Carmilla will have to decide if she has enough courage to finally say “no.”

Review: This one hits deep. You want a Laura and Carmilla absolutely wrecked for each other and broken-hearted when first their own fears, and then later, Carmilla’s mother and her abuse, literally rip them apart? Well, you have it here. You want a Laura who has courage, who is willing to fight for Carmilla? Well, you have it here. You want to see good overcome evil, and chains get broken? Have a read. And yet, thankfully, there is mutual pining and fake-dating fluff throughout a majority of chapters so the weight of the main struggle doesn’t become too depressing.

The story is written in third person limited, alternating Carmilla/Laura POVs.

The Good: The story has substance and takes full advantage of the core characteristics of canon Laura and Carmilla’s backgrounds: Carmilla is the puppet daughter of a villainous, powerful, cunning mother. Laura is a truth-seeking, justice-demanding investigative reporter with the tenacity of a dog on a scent. Laura’s goodness and dorkiness (and love of sugar) endear her to Carmilla. Carmilla’s depth and quiet steadiness make her Laura’s rock. The main difference between canon Hollstein and this version of them, though? Laura for once is willing to put Carm above her need to out the truth and right the wrongs. And (Ahem, glaring at you, canon-Laura Hollis), it still works out in the end!

The romance unfolding between these two feels more sweeping than we usually receive in a Hollstein fic. I think a few things accomplish this. First, setting this against the stretch of a political campaign adds a certain built-in sense of time and weight. Second, more of their romance is conveyed and developed through actions than through the simple narration of their private feelings. (The first being a significantly stronger writing style, and one I’m perpetually envious of.) The date Laura sets up for Carmilla, the melt-down disaster that happens at the dress shop, Carmilla flooding the newpaper’s lobby with cupcakes or buying them greasy burgers from their old college favorite burger joint, the lightning storms… they all speak volumes without having to rely on internals. And, in turn, they result in evocative physical reactions by the characters and amplify the particular relationship-aspect being highlighted at the time, either through using mirroring metaphors or contrasting metaphors.

In that same vein, locations and things have weight given to them as well, rather than being simply included as background detail. This isn’t a fake-dating plot that could take place just anywhere, or which could theoretically be limited to a few typical, hum-drum locations. The locations and weather (the lake, the city, the newspaper lobby, the dress shop, the frozen river, the cafe, etc.), the literal atmosphere (Fall, stormy nights, crisp days, snowflakes, a chilly sunset seen through the glass windows of a broken down boathouse), and objects (a black swan paddle boat, the ring(s), Sir Bearington, cue cards), all are presented with vivid imagery and matter as to why the characters respond a certain way in that moment. All of this adds a definite theatrical/visual dimension to the story. That is great writing.

The Concrit: Perry, LaF, Kirsc… They feel a little like throw-aways. That’s not too big of a deal, since that is already the case in many Hollstein fics. But, I would have appreciated a bit more of them mattering in small ways. Matska didn’t have a huge word-count, and yet, her presence was *felt* in the same way the setting, items, and atmosphere mattered to the plot: Her absence would have changed the story. And even Danny, though she only had one scene and a minor role in it, mattered in a tangible, if still small way. The other three, not so much (despite the whole period-table analogy LaF tried to share with Laura).

Secondly... While I’m not sure how accurate Carmilla’s (verbal) conditioned responses are, this is fan fiction and I don’t think the author was making any claims to be an expert. (And, as it went, it definitely worked well as a plot-device to flag for the reader when Carmilla was in one of her regressive episodes.) But that being said, it was a disconnect for me how normal-functioning Carmilla was in the absence of (or triggering by) her mother. Yes, we’re told she had some self-worth issues, but aside from being told that, really, she seemed just fine.

Finally, I would enjoy an epilogue. Although, as written, it definitely stands on its own without one.

NEXT IN THE QUE: We’re still on the fake dating / fake relationship au binge for the next two weeks!

Remember: If you enjoy the stories I review and recommend- whether you’ve only just read them because of my reviews or you’ve read them in the past and these rec’s remind you of them- stop by the authors and send them some love. They’ve given a tremendous amount of their time, effort, and passion to provide us with high-quality, free entertainment that keeps Carmilla alive for us. Let’s thank them. You don’t even have to mention this blog: JUST LOVE ON THEM!

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razzstrid · 4 years ago

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‘Shipping’ and the Enduring Appeal of Rooting for Love

I can say with great confidence that Draco Malfoy and an Apple (Drapple) has trumped Timothée Chalamet and the peach (...Timotheach?). Drapple is *chef’s kiss*. Whoever started Drapple deserves some sort of award ... genuinely, I applaud you.

Moving on ... surprisingly, I have never really engaged in ‘shipping’. The only theoretical relationship that I ‘shipped’ in the slightest was the Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles romance ... and even then I don’t even think I ‘shipped’ it because I was entirely in love with Harry Styles ... and frankly, I had no interest entertaining the idea of him with anyone else.

In hindsight, Ive rarely heard the term ‘shipping’ -- I didn’t have a Tumblr until now and I’ve never had a Twitter. I would occasionally see the term in bold letters across some kitschy covers of the People or Us Magazines that I would steal out of my mom’s bathroom when I was deviously disobedient child. Despite my vague acquaintance with the term until now, I’ve developed a comprehensive understanding of the sentiments and psychology behind ‘shipping’.

I want to make it clear that I think that ‘shipping’ should be divided into two subcategories: active and casual. In this distinction I’d like to correct myself... I have definitely ‘shipped’ celebrity couples but in an unconscious, casual way. These relationships would passively drift in and out of conversations instead of being the topic of conversation.

‘Shipping’, defined as an emotional investment in a relationship between two fictional characters, is rooted in one’s own emotional deprivation; a shipper consciously (or unconsciously) choose to live vicariously through the fictional (or real? ... except everything in the media is regulated so who’s to say) characters’ companionship in order to attain happiness or satisfaction. It’s wishful fulfillment on the part of the fan or ‘shipper’.

As I started understanding the true nature of ‘shipping’, it started reminding me of a term my friend Sam taught me this past summer called limerence. I’m a sucker for any topic regarding love ... but limerence isn’t love, yet it is widely mistaken for it; its deceptive qualities made me even more curious.

My curiously led me to read Dorothy Tennov’s book Love and Limerence. Limerence was never explicitly defined in the book but instead, shown through different accounts and stories from a constellation of different people; it’s subjectiveness makes it difficult to define as it manifests entirely differently from person to person. To paint a clearer picture, Psychology Wiki defines limerence (as posited by Tennov) as an “involuntary cognitive and emotional state in which a person feels an intense romantic desire for another person (the limerent object). Limerence can often be what is meant when one expresses ‘having a crush’ on someone else”... although it’s not that simple; it is characterized by intense intrusive thinking and acute sensitivity to external events that are overanalyzed to reflect or validate the disposition (particularly the disposition of reciprocity) of the limerent object towards the individual.

I believe the question of why certain fan fiction junkies and ‘shippers’ form such intimate attachments to onscreen or celebrity relationships can be boiled down to the experience of limerence. Limerence draws from Winnicottian theories of object-relations and the ‘transitional object’; these objects combine to create another realm between the imagination and the external world or an ambiguous ‘intermediate area of experiencing’.

Often times fans or ‘shippers’ are unable to determine the exact cause behind their attachments to onscreen or celebrity couples; their inability to pinpoint the reasons behind their infatuation is similar to someone who is in love or more so, stuck in an unconscious state of limerence. It’s important to note that fans are not oblivious to the fact that these onscreen relationships aren’t real, and the same goes for highly managed and press driven celebrity relationships. Through my own experience and accounts of others I’ve gathered that this obsession is rooted in a lack of the emotions and idealistic development seen on screen more so then identification with the emotions and development on screen. Reciprocity, more so the lack-there-of, plays a large roll in limerence in the context of ‘shipping’; limerence is exacerbated in its one-sidedness, and this aspect of one-sidedness is the overarching factor in fandom and ‘shipping’. A fan’s infatuation and love for a couple or relationship pictured on screen is objectively one-sided; they are living vicariously through something they are entirely removed from. The intense pleasure and satisfaction experienced by the fan when the onscreen couple proceeds with highly anticipated predictions and vise versa, the grief and distraughtness (is that a word?) experienced when the said couple experiences a breakup or strife of any kind remains untraceable thus it is reminiscent of the real life rollercoaster of emotions caused by limerence; an intense enmeshment of narrative and reality.

I apologize for my wordiness and hopefully I got my point across. #love #is #complicated

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mythicamagic · 5 years ago

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so um,, do you have any anime recommendations that a DL fan would get into? like one that has dark elements but also perfectly balances with sweetness?? im rlly into twisted multi-dimensional characters that are also capable of being shipped

DL is pretty uh…unique, in that its probably the most blatant about what exactly it is as a dark romance franchise. So I’ve tried to recommend similar elements as you’ve said ^^

Amnesia Memories

Amnesia is more on the romance side of things, but there are technically ‘two’ yandere love interests and a bunch of ‘dark’ moments. The anime is extremely bare-bones so I’d highly recommend the otome game over it. You can find it on Steam on sale most of the time for £2 here so I doubt it’s much wherever you live.

Dance with Devils

Or as I like to call it - watered down DL with singing. It’s a cute show though with ‘some’ creative choices that could be considered dark (looking at you Shiki) and nice aesthetics with catchy songs.

Vampire Knight

The most frustrating love triangle ever. Get outta here Twilight. This is the real shit that played with my 14 year old emotions (Zerooo) I’d say to watch it if you like DL and you’re in the mood for teen drama. It’s got the usual vampire romance elements.

Future Diary

Featuring female yandere Yuno Gasai. It’s gory, it’s twisted action fun, it’s riddled with plot holes and has an unhealthy romance. Turn your brain off for this one and enjoy.

Baccano

Hell yeah, Baccano is amazing. It’s got murderers, thieves, immortals and psychopaths. But that doesn’t mean there’s no romance, in fact there’s at least five couples I can think of in the show, including a guy who vows constantly to one day kill his fiancé. And she’s into it. (Just be aware that its like Pulp Fiction so the story has three plots. Also the beginning is the end. Give it a few episodes and you’ll get to grips with the 3 main stories going on.)

Madoka Magica (I’ve only seen the series though)

It’s dark yet looks cute on the surface. There’s a bond of friendship between the girls, which can be the only positive thing going on at the time in this often hopeless feeling anime. Very nice fight scenes with a blend of animation styles.

Higurashi When They Cry

Extremely gory and not for the faint of heart. It’s a mystery type of anime that heavily dives into paranoia.

Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust

Anime film featuring vampires that has a gothic aesthetic and the forbidden human x vampire lovers. Very Horror-Esque with action and not a whole lot of dialogue from the main lead, but it’s memorable to me.

Castlevania

Features a cool style and likeable, snarky characters with traditional vampires and a dark atmosphere that’s counteracted by a sense of humour.

Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo

This is a revenge-driven story with a batshit insane art style that pretty much operates on Treasure Planet logic. The Count is a bit like Dracula, which a magnetic personality which draws you into trusting him because he’s just so gosh darn charming. Then he’ll betray you and laugh at you for ever believing his lies. I love him. (He reminds me of Karl Heinz)

Blind Recommendation would be - Shiki. Apparently its a horror featuring vampires that I’ve never gotten around to watching, but will eventually.

#anime recommendation #asks #Diabolik lovers #long post

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ussthunderquack · 6 years ago

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MCU characters in the “Star Trek” universe

I thought of making this post months ago. I hesitated, and still do, because some of these are very close to some original “Star Trek” characters that I’m cooking up for a personal “Star Trek” fanfic.

But then someone else made a post about an Avengers/”Star Trek” crossover, with a Vulcan Stephen Strange, that I found interesting. They said they were new to “Star Trek,” and I offered suggestions. They asked me to tag them when I post this, so here I tag: @ellisper this is partially for you. I am not telling anyone that they have to write their Avengers/”Star Trek” crossover this way; this is just my personal two-cents.

Steve Rogers: Thawed Augment from the Eugenics Wars

In “Star Trek” canon, the Eugenics Wars are a dark part of Earth’s history, set between present day, and the Utopian 23rd Century in which the main action of “Star Trek” is set. The famous “Star Trek” villain, Khan, comes from this time period. The Eugenics Wars occurred before Humans discovered Warp travel, or met any alien life. During this time, humanity experimented with genetic engineering, and created super-humans called Augments. Augments tended to be evil, due to superiority complexes. The most infamous was Khan, who, along with his crew of Augments, wound up cryogenically frozen, and thawed centuries later in Captain Kirk’s time. For a “Star Trek” version of Steve Rogers, this seems fitting. Naturally, Steve is one of the “good” Augments, who was fighting for equality, against Khan. Somehow, he wound up frozen like Khan’s crew, and thawed centuries later. Just like canon-Steve, this Augment Steve is from a past war that most Starfleet officers only know from history books; and his body and abilities come from a scientific experiment that was abandoned long, long ago.

Sam Wilson: Human pilot, from an off-world colony, scarred by the Dominion War

Sam would be one of the first people to welcome Steve Rogers to the 24th Century, and treat him like a regular person. His military experience and involvement in PTSD groups might be related to the Dominion War (which occurred during “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine,” and had a lasting effect on Starfleet and all of its allies, in “Next Generation” and “Voyager.”)

I feel like Sam would come from an off-world colony, maybe because he has a rougher edge to him, that an Earth-bred officer might lack. If I’m not mistaken, Sam also grew up in poverty, in MCU canon. (In “Star Trek,” Earth is a “paradise” in the 24th Century, with all poverty and prejudice eliminated; so human characters who come from bad places come from off-world, like Tasha Yar.)

Stephen Strange: Romulan turncoat, training with Vulcans

Vulcans and Romulans are evolutionary cousins. Sans the foreheads, the only significant difference is cultural. Vulcans tamed their volatile emotions centuries ago, with logic and discipline. Romulans embraced their darker tendencies, and are now more imperial. There is great animosity and distrust between the two sub-species. However, some Romulans respect the Vulcans, and seek to learn from them. (This is revealed in “Star Trek: the Next Generation.”)

The Stephen Strange we see in “Infinity War” might seem Vulcan-like. But if you watch his movie, “Dr. Strange,” he wasn’t always so. Pre-wizard Strange is like many of the Romulans you’ll see on “Star Trek:” a brilliant scientist, but very arrogant, with a volatile temper, and questionable ethics. For a “Star Trek” Dr. Strange, I postulate a Romulan scientist who suffers an injury and loses his ability to practice. He travels to Vulcan in the hopes of curing himself, and learns from one of the most powerful Vulcan telepaths. (Vulcans have far more experience with telepathy than Romulans, who for the most part, don’t seem to even have the ability.)

Naturally, a Vulcan/Romulan Strange would also rock that evil-Spock goatee. In short, Strange is a Romulan who converted to Vulcan-ism. His Romulan temperament still shines through his newfound Vulcan discipline, especially when he’s interacting with....

Tony Stark: Joined Trill

Here’s the one that made me hesitate, because of my “Star Trek” OC. But, here we go....

The Trill look like humans with spots on the sides of their faces, and kangaroo pouches in their tummies (for both males and females). Most of the Trill are pretty much just that. But one tenth of the Trill population is “joined” to a race of super-intelligent, immortal slugs, who live in said kangaroo pouches. Once joined, the slug--called a Symbiont--and the “host” Trill---both have their minds merged into one being. It is very important that a Trill and Symbiont are well matched before joining, or else insanity could result.

A joined Trill will replace his or her last name with the name of the symbiont. (Ezri Tigan is joined to the Dax symbiont, and changes here name to Ezri Dax.) A host will have all of the memories of the Symbiont’s past hosts, which can lead to some confusion and identity crisis. Since Tony Stark is a character marked entirely by conflict and dualities, I can’t see him being anything but a joined Trill. The Stark symbiont is the genius engineer, and the Tony host is the playboy manchild.

Since Tony’s character is heavily driven by his past (daddy issues, guilt, etc) that could also translate into memories of past-hosts. Maybe the crimes Trill-Tony blames himself for weren’t his at all, but a past host of the Stark symbiont.

On my “Star Trek” OC, Nuvo Auz: He is not exactly a carbon copy of Tony Stark, but he’s close enough to this “Trill Tony Stark” described that I hesitated to share. But oh well. It’s fan fiction, so it’s not like originality is a major issue here.

James Rhodes: Another joined Trill, who has been friends with Stark for several “hosts”

There is now a reason Rhodey changed appearances so abruptly and completely; he changed hosts! The Rhodey on the left sadly died during a mission where he was unfortunate enough to be wearing red, but the Stark and Rhodey symbionts were inseparable, even though various hosts. The plotline of Rhodey breaking his back might also be replaced by Rhodey losing another host altogether. That would really motivate Tony, if his best friend really did partially-die, during one of their battles.

The Trill do have laws against “re-association” with past-hosts’ families and spouses, but friendships seem to be except from this rule, as Captain Sisko is friends with Dax through three hosts (Kurzon Dax, Jadzia Dax and Ezri Dax).

Pepper Potts: Unjoined Trill Telepath

As mentioned above, most Trill are not joined. Among the unjoined Trill, a small percentage are telepathic. These telepathic Trill cannot be joined, but are important in helping with those who are. Trill telepaths guard the unjoined symbionts in their cave-lakes, and also use their telepathy to perform Trill rituals that allow a joined Trill to talk more directly with his or her past hosts.

Trill telepathy is not elaborated on in canon, so this AU has a lot of freedom in terms of what Pepper can do with her telepathy.

Pepper is the only Trill telepath who could deal with the insanity that is Tony Stark, and has been by his side for years. Her telepathy gives her sharp intuition, and she is the first to discover that Stane is betraying Tony, when she quickly reads Stane’s mind when he isn’t looking. She can sense when Tony’s in danger, and communicate with him mentally from afar.

She hates how reckless joined Trill like Tony are, since they feel immortal. She reminds him he is not immortal; his memories may be, but there will only ever be one Tony Stark, and she doesn’t want to lose him.

Morgan Stark: Get some tissues....

Tony, being Tony, goes against the Symbiosis Commissions rules about joining, and leaves his symbiont Stark to his daughter after his death. Morgan inherits the symbiont, and with it, all her father’s memories. She constantly hears him tell her, “I love you 3000.”

Mantis: Aenar/Betazoid Hybrid

The Aenar are evolutionary cousins of Andorians (those blue guys with the antennae). The Aenar, unlike Andorians, have very powerful telepathic abilities, and live in seclusion.

Betazoids look identical to humans, except for their solid black eyes. Betazoids, as well, have a wide range of mental powers. Most are some degree of telepaths, but how powerful they are depends on the individual. Counselor Deanna Troi, who is half-Betazoid and half-Human, cannot read minds like most full-Betazoids, but she is an “empath,” and can sense emotions from other people.

Mantis’s black eyes and empathic powers scream of Betazoid to me. But naturally her antennae and sheltered nature also scream of Aenar. I think an Aenar/Betazoid hybrid makes the most sense for her, personally.

Natasha Romanof: Low-telepath Betazoid, or Betazoid/Human Hybrid

Betazoid women are stereotyped for their alluring, seductive natures. Natasha Romanov uses seduction, along with her sharp intuition, in her job as a spy. She clearly cannot read or affect others’ minds the way Mantis or Wanda Maximoff can, but Nat’s ability to read other people would make sense for a part-Betazoid, or a Bertazoid on the low-end of the telepathy spectrum.

Clint Barton: Human, or Bajoran

Bajorans are basically humans with wrinkly noses, and their whole planet seemingly follows one religion. All in all, not “Star Trek’s” best concept for an alien race.

I was originally going to dismiss Clint as a boring Human, but he could just as easily be Bajoran. Bajorans have a history of guerrilla fighting Cardassian oppressors, and while it’s never stated in canon, I’ve always gotten the impression that Bajorans were more nimble and stealthy than humans. After recently winning their home planet back from the Cardassians, Bajorans are trying to rebuild their lives and families. Many are farmers. This all seems fitting enough for Clint. Otherwise, Clint might simply be the token boring Human onboard. Like Miles O’Brian of DS9, Clint is the family man in the group, and...not much else. He could even relate to Miles over having a relatively mundane-seeming job compared to the other characters (Miles sat at the transporter controls when on the Enterprise, and is the subject of much ridicule in the fandom for this.)

Thor: Klingon, son of the current emperor

If you’re new to “Star Trek,” you might be thinking, “No way, pretty Thor, one of those ugly lizard things from ‘Star Trek: Discovery’ and the recent movies?” Well I’m thinking more of the Picard-era Klingons for this one. Yes, Klingons are warriors--and specifically, they are largely based on stereotypes of Vikings--but not all Klingon characters are vicious monsters. Many are jolly and full of honor, and love to drink mugs of bloodwine while telling exaggerated tales of their glorious battles. Picturing Thor, and all of his Asgardian friends, as Klingons, each with their own unique Klingon forheads, armor and weapons, is just too great.

Loki: Changeling orphan raised by Klingons, who later allies with the Dominion

Introduced on “Deep Space Nine,” the Founders, AKA “Changelings,” are a species from the other side of the galaxy. Their true form is silver syrup, but with practice, they can take any form, depending on how skilled and experienced they are. The Founders are rulers of the Dominion, a sort of evil counterpart to the Federeation. Their subject species worship them as gods, and the Founders hope for galactic domination.

To gain more information on the rest of the galaxy, the Founders often send baby Changelings out into the universe, to grow up among alien species, so they can come back and share their experiences with the rest of the Great Link (the sea of silver jelly that makes up the Founder homeworld). Unfortunately, the Founders don’t seem to plan this very well, as they give the baby Changelings no way of knowing where they’re from, why they were sent away, or what they’re supposed to do. Odo, a main character on “Deep Space Nine,” grew up an orphan and the only one of his species, having no clue of his origins.

Now if this isn’t all Loki in a nutshell, I don’t know what is.

Emperor Odin found the baby Changeling, and taught him to take a Klingon form. Loki grew up very bitter about not knowing his origins. When he did finally learn of the Founders, he was eager to return to the Great Link and prove himself, and became one of the Dominion’s highest agents. Loki was far more skilled at shape-shifting than Odo (as many Founders were), and could take any form with ease.

He tried to take over the Klingon Empire by impersonating his father; he led a Dominion Army to try to conquer Earth; and in the end, he switched sides and died trying to save his brother and the Klingon Empire....or did he?

Bruce Banner: Human/Klingon hybrid (either natural or artificial)

There are several part-Klingons in “Star Trek” canon. One of them, B’Elanna Torres ( “Star Trek: Voyager”) is a brilliant engineer, who is constantly frustrated by her Klingon temper interfering with her work. Bruce Banner could just as easily be in the exact same boat as her, though his personality would be different than hers. (B’Elanna often combats her rage with sarcasm, and has a lot in common with Tony Stark in that regard.)

B’Elanna is a born hybrid--one human parent, one Klingon parent. There are others, however, who are “artificial hybrids;” a person born one species, who, through some genetic engineering or mistake, ends up with traits of the other species fused into them. Klingons experimented with genetic engineering on themselves to try and disguise as Humans, to infiltrate Star Fleet. (This was a retcon in “Enterprise,” to explain why the Klingons in the Original “Star Trek” look so Human, and nothing like the Klingons of TNG-onward. A Klingon-engineered-to-look-human also appears on “Discovery.”)

Bruce Banner could just be a born hybrid like B’Elanna... but if one wants to tie in his MCU backstory into this “Star Trek” AU, it may make sense to go the “military genetic experiment gone wrong” route. Admiral Ross (no “generals” in Starfleet, don’t ask me why) may have ordered Bruce to test this method of disguising humans as Klingons on himself, and it went horribly wrong.

King T’Challa: Human, from a separate colony that still practices genetic engineering

In “Star Trek,” it is not uncommon for members of one specific ethnic group to build a colony on an alien planet, based entirely around that one culture. (Or stereotypes of it. “Star Trek” is kind of clumsy with how it handles real life cultures, unfortunately.) There’s a colony of Scottish people, where Dr. Crusher’s nanna lives. Commander Chakotay’s culture was a tribe of Native Americans who left Earth and set up a colony on another planet to preserve their culture.

Wakanda could just as easily be the same case. In addition to preserving their culture, the Wakandans might also have left Earth so that they could continue using genetic engineering, a practice that Starfleet has banned (after the Eugenics Wars). In the Wakanda Colony, genetic manipulation is handled very carefully, and only the ruling king becomes a full-on Augment.

Gamora: Orion pirate

Orions are a green-skinned race, known to be pirates and slave traders. Orion women emit pheromones that seduce males of other species, though it’s unclear if this always true, or how much control they have over it. Trekkies tend to think of Orion women as scantily dressed slave dancers, but latter “Star Trek” incarnations have female Orions in other roles, often as badass pirate traders and leaders, and sometimes even Starfleet officers. They do have a tendency to wear kinky black leather though, and the last Orion woman we saw on “Star Trek: Discovery” was a dead-ringer for Gamora!

Bucky Barnes: Liberated Borg Drone

The Borg are the single greatest villains in “Star Trek,” and are every bit to “Star Trek” what Hydra is to the Avengers. The Borg are a race of half-machine cyborg people, whose minds are all enslaved to one collective Hive Mind. Their goal is to assimilate the entire galaxy. On “Star Trek,” we’ve met several characters who were assimilated by the Borg, but later escaped, and struggled to reclaim their humanity. It happened once to Captain Picard; he was assimilated, and forced to wipe out an entire Federation fleet, under the influence of the Borg, before he was rescued by the Enterprise. On “Voyager,” Seven of Nine--formerly Annika Hanson--was assimilated with here parents at age 6, and wasn’t rescued until 18 years later. She spends four years on the show regaining her humanity, wrestling with the guilt, and coping with the trauma.

Borg-Bucky can tie into Trill-Tony this way. Perhaps a previous Stark host was assimilated along with his entire family by Borg-Bucky, and somehow, the Stark symbiont was rescued and able to move into a new host. Since this is "Star Trek,” it’s also perfectly believable for that massive plot line to get abruptly dropped and never mentioned again. (Sorry, I’m still salty about that...)

Wanda Maximoff: Ocampa, from Suspiria’s Array

This is another one from “Star Trek: Voyager.” The Ocampa are a race of telepaths, but how powerful they are depends on which sect they come from. Centuries ago, another race called Caretakers (a race of super-intelligent blobs) accidentally turned the Ocampan home-world into a desert. One Caretaker kept a bunch of Ocampans underground on their dead homeworld, and provided for them. Being dependent for so many generations caused their powers to weaken, until basic telepathic conversation was all they could do. But the other Caretaker, named Suspiria, took a few Ocampa lightyears away to live on a space station, where she encouraged them to exercise their powers to the max. Their abilities included telekenesis, and inducing spontaneous combustion in plants. These Ocampa were more sinister than the other kind. I think this would be as good a backstory as any for MCU-Wanda Maximoff. After nearly destroying the ship, she switches sides, and tries to tame her incredible mind powers, and only use them for good.

Also, Ocampans only live 9 or 10 years, and are fully grown by age 2. This could explain some of the confusion surrounding Wanda’s age, with characters treating her like a kid one minute, and a soldier to bring into battle the next. This is another one that’s vaguely similar to one of my OCs, though my Ocampa character is almost nothing at all like Wanda. But, she is an Ocampa from Suspiria’s array.

Ava Starr: Human mutated by a freak transporter accident

There’s an episode of “Star Trek: the Next Generation” where Lt. LaForge and Ensign Ro get into a transporter accident that essentially turns them into ghosts. Here, something similar happened to poor Ava Star, but she could sometimes maintain solid form, and was visible to others, even when phasing.

Her father was attempting to open a gateway to either the Mirror Universe or Fluidic Space, or some such other dimension, and it literally blew up in his face. He and Ava’s mom died, and they were the lucky ones.

Ava was then taken advantage of by Section 31 (basically the Federation’s CIA), and used for classified missions. And now she is just so done with everything and everyone, and just wants a cure.

Hank Pym: Eccentric scientist who rejects Starfleet

There are quite a few of these in the world of “Star Trek” (Data’s creator, Seven of Nine’s parents). Some scientists just think Starfleet is too controlling, or corrupt, or they just hate people, or the writers just want an easy way for a scientist to be up to something Starfleet doesn’t know about.

Hank Pym was a prominent Starfleet scientist, until Howard Stark tried to steal his research. Pym quit Starfleet, and tried to find a place to settle to continue his research undisturbed. But his ship crashed on an alien planet. He almost died in the alien wilderness, until the planet’s dominant species--a race of super-intelligent insecticides--took him in and adopted him into their colony.

Pym now trusts neither Starfleet nor “Starks,” regardless of who the current Stark host is. The only ones he trusts are his faithful companions and minions, the ants.

Hope Van Dyne: Pym’s estranged, half-Vulcan daughter, who works for Starfleet

Unlike Spock, she doesn’t try to mask her emotions and be entirely “Vulcan.” But she does practice lots of Vulcan control and sardonicism, to deal with her resentment towards her father for her mother’s (supposed) death.

Janet Van Dyne: Pym’s Vulcan wife, thought killed in a space anomaly, but actually stranded in Fluidic Space

Fluidic Space is another dimension, where Species 8472 live (from “Star Trek: Voyager”)

Scott Lang: Lower-decks crewman who everyone thinks is gonna die a redshirt’s death, but turns out to be a badass

And because he’s a dopey human who makes funny quips and is the butt of endless jokes, he will end up with the half-Vulcan woman who can’t stand him.

Peter Quill: Human, from the 20th Century

Time travel is rampant in “Star Trek,” so Peter Quill’s character can stay pretty much exactly the same as he is in MCU-canon.

Nebula: Bolian, ex-Borg Drone

Bolians are bald blue people, and.....that’s about all we know about them. Well, they supposedly are also all motor-mouths, but you know, stereotypes. Anyway, being assimilated would make even the chattiest person turn pretty antisocial.

Her eye-implant is also a LOT like Seven of Nine’s.

Carol Danvers: Human-Q hybrid, Starfleet pilot

The Q are among the most powerful beings in the Universe, as well as some of the most sinister. The main Q character we know on “Star Trek: the Next Generation” and “Voyager” has dealt at least twice with young Qs, who he was rearing with questionable methods. In the TNG episode “True Q,” Q mentors young Amanda Rogers (an orphaned Q raised by humans), in a way that is very reminiscent of Yon Rogg’s mentoring of Vers. Is it possible for Q to reproduce with non-Q? Who knows, but since the Q seem capable of damn near anything, I don’t see why not. Though, if we’re keeping things close to MCU canon, then Carol may have been born a regular human, and only became part-Q after a bizarre accident. In any case, she is no longer with the Q Continuum, and now fights for justice independently, or with Starfleet.

Peter Parker: Kid genius, except likable. The Anti-Wesley.

During “Infinity War,” my friend said Peter reminded her of Wesley, and I said, “Never say that again, or I’ll beam you into a black hole.” Anyway, Peter would be a kid-genius serving on a ship like Wesley (but likable), and like Reg Barclay, would end up becoming part spider, due to one of the many bizarre anomalies the ship runs into every week.

If canon-Peter was enamored with Iron Man, just picture this Peter’s excitmenent upon learning that the chief engineer is a joined Trill, who has lived multiple life times, and all of the inappropriate questions he’d pester Tony with, like, “What’s it like to die? What’s it like to die three times? Were any of your deaths really badass? Like, did you ever go out blowing up a Borg cube or get blown into space or something?”

“This is why some species eat their young.”

Friday: Hologram

In “Star Trek,” holograms--by the 24th Century anyway--look and even feel like solid, real people. Which begs some very disturbing questions about the fact that they’re created as basically slave labor. But Tony at least would never treat any of his holograms like mindless appliances to toss away, and if any of them wanted to leave he wouldn’t stop them.

Anyway, Friday is a hologram he programed after Jarvis was integrated into Vision. And she is a badass.

Vision: Soon-type android, with a hologram and alien technology mixed in

Kinda self-explanatory, not sure what else needs to be said.

Thaddeus Ross: insane admiral

Alongside doomed redshirts and and promiscuous male commanding officers, the evil insane admiral is one of “Star Trek’s” oldest and most treasured traditions. It does get to be a bit concerning after a while, that there are so many insane admirals in the Federation. Some fans theorize that Starfleet promotes bad captains to admirals to keep them off starships, figuring the occasional crazy admiral grabbing at galactic domination is better than a crazy incompetent captain every week. Whatever the reason, insane megalomaniac admirals plague Starfleet.

Thaddeus Ross is one such admiral. Previously leader of a fleet of starships, he was promoted to an even higher brand of admiral after the fiasco with Bruce Banner. Unfortunately, it turned out that giving this twit even more power was, shockingly, a bad idea.

If I think of more, I may update this. But I think these are the main ones I have AU ideas for.

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