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stxleslyds · 3 years

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I have read your thought about the Batfamily, now I really want to know your thought about the one who started it, the Batman himself. We can't ignore the fact that Bruce is abusing his children, but there's also some moments where he's being a good father to them. But some of his act doesn't make sense.

He's beating his children, then calling them his son after. He act like a mad man after Damian's death (yeah, they did Jason dirty in here), feeling sorrow and desperately wanting to ressurect him, but then neglecting him continously in the future. I didn't know much about Cass, Bruce seems to always be a good father to her. But her fans once pointed that Bruce (or DC) is too hard on her to not killing/too soft on the others, because the other batkids has killed some villains while under Batman and still got to continue putting on their costumes.

What is exactly Bruce character? How is his relationship with every one of his children?

I feel like Batman can't be in a good relationship with one of his children without destroying his relationship with the other. I always love parents and children relationship in comics, but with batfamily sometimes it just so 'fanon-y' and some are hurtful.

I stopped reading Batman book for a long time. And come back reading that wedding and city of bane arc, because I want to know how they killed Alfred. And honestly those run are terrible. The issue basically just a batcat fanservice, with the worst Batman and Catwoman characterization ever. The batkids didn't even got many appearance and treated awfully as if they are just extras, even if they all are capable and have connection with Alfred.

Hey there Anon!

My thoughts on Batman and Bruce have changed over the last few years, he wasn’t the character that introduced me to DC comics but what I got to read from him at the time seemed good. As time went by, I started to feel like the whole concept of Batman was overrated and he kinda tired me in entertainment such as movies and all that. He never truly was a character that I actually liked so by the time that I read Under the Red Hood I knew that I liked Dick and Jason better than Bruce.

Batman was interesting but I was completely indifferent about Bruce. That whole thing changed around the time that the New 52 was sort of ending, there I started to heavily dislike Bruce and then that turned into pure hate. Now, I am just tired of the guy and every time that he appears in Dick or Jason content my day is ruined.

I hate that DC has been writing Bruce as an abusive and manipulative person and father to his “kids”, he has done a lot of wrong to them in comic history but all went to shit (in current comics) when Bruce tried to manipulate Jason into reliving the day that he died and his resurrection in Batman and Robin vol2. #20 and when he beat Dick and manipulated him into becoming a spy after telling him that he had told everyone that he was dead in Nightwing vol.3 #30.

Bruce was a horrible human being in the pre-New 52 timeline too sometimes, mostly towards Dick but in a way, it felt like Dick was able time and time again to get away from him a little bit. Now none of his kids are given the opportunity to turn their backs on Bruce, they are kept in his surroundings no matter how abusive he becomes towards them.

My biggest problem with Bruce’s abusiveness is the fact that the writers never treat it like he acts in an abusive way, they never make him apologize or have an internal discussion where he realises that he was in the wrong. “Bruce is a horrible person to his sons but it doesn’t matter because he is right and he is Batman so that’s that”, that’s the message that I feel DC is selling us. Bruce never receives punishment or is called out for his behaviour, Dick was never able to tell Bruce that what he did to him was unforgivable, he never got the chance to explain to anyone that he didn’t play dead, and when he came back from Spyral he took all the shit from his “family” himself.

Sometimes DC does something even worse, they try to hide Bruce’s neglect with things that never happened like they did with the Ric thing in Dick’s case. Dick was passed around from villain to villain when he was most vulnerable and at the end of it all DC had the guts to say that Batman had been watching over Dick all the time. Like, why lie in such a blatant way? Does Bruce enjoy watching his son suffer from a far or was he too much of a coward to tell Dick that he was a shit father, got stuck in a hole and then decided to play “Cat and Bat” with Selina instead of caring for any of his children?

The situation with Damian’s death and resurrection was a whole thing that was meant to prove that Bruce loved Damian and considered him his son. But in their effort to make Bruce look like a good father to Damian they completely destroyed his relationship with his other kids and that was also the start of Bruce referring to Damian as his ONLY son. And like you said after Damian was resurrected Bruce ended up neglecting him afterwards which ultimately led Damian to run away.

His relationship with Cass and Duke is something that I cannot explore because I am not into those characters and they are involved in books that I am not interested in. So I cannot say anything about that.

With Tim it’s complicated because I feel like his relationship with him was never actually father/son it was more like mentor/mentee and that seemed to work better for them, ever since they started the whole family thing Bruce started to act a little bit too rough towards Tim and that ended with Bruce punching Tim during the “City of Bane” arc. Bruce never apologised or was shown realising his mistake, but DC made sure to explain that Bruce was going through a rough time so that’s why he did it. It was pure rubbish and I dislike it a lot.

I answered an ask a while ago about how I thought Dick and Jason could become family the way that DC treats the “Batfamily” within comics and I came up with the idea of the “Dickfamily” because I felt like DC made a big mistake the moment they revolved the Bat family around Bruce and not Dick. Bruce is a character that is known for being lonely and for being surrounded by darkness that he only manages to escape through the light of Robin (Dick Grayson because he was the first), he was always depicted as someone who is hard to work with and considers his teammates only co-workers and not friends. He is a difficult person to connect with, so why on earth did DC come up with a family surrounding that man? (I actually know the answer to that question and it is: money, DC did it to sell more comics under the Batman name but we are going to forget about that here, let me be petty).

Why would DC make it all about a man that doesn’t connect or goes out of his way to say that he “works alone” when Dick Grayson is standing right there? DC hates that they created a character like Dick because he is just better than Bruce at everything, he just is, he is better family to Alfred, Jason, Tim and Damian, he was even written as a better father to Damian than Bruce ever was!

Bruce is just not a people person or a person that forms strong bonds with people. And that makes the whole “Batfamily” concept suffer and come off as something forced that doesn’t actually work.

Tom King was one of the writers that tried to kill the concept of the “Batfamily” with Bruce and Selina becoming a couple and by continuously saying that Selina was who was the most important person in Bruce’s life and the one that made him a better person. All Tom King did with that is make fans and non-fans of the “Batfamily” feel rage. Like, I might not like the “Batfamily” but there is no way that Selina comes first to Alfred, Dick or Damian, there is just no way and if that were actually true then that’s boring.

All the writers that have pushed the “Batfamily” concept (try) do it in a way that makes it look grand and of actual essence but without putting any work on it, if you ask me the “Batfamily” (if there has to be one) should only include Bruce, Alfred (he do be dead though), Dick, Tim, Cass and Damian (I suppose Duke too, I don’t know much about him). The “Batfamily” has to be small because that way you can actually build relationships and make them matter. Having Kate, Steph, Jason and so many others involved in a concept that was made to fit around Bruce looks stupid! Bruce has had almost zero connection to Kate and Steph in the last ten years and Bruce’s “relationship” with Jason is a complete joke!

Bruce is just not the character that is meant to be surrounded by too much people, and he is not a good person towards his family so the whole ass concept should be thrown to the trash and finally let it die. But money is important and if there is something that DC will never stop doing, is milking Batman for content that can be (sometimes) pretty basic.

All in all, I think Bruce sucks and that his “kids” shouldn’t be dragged back to him ever again or at least for a long while. All of them would actually benefit from not being involved with anything relating to Batman. Dick could benefit from Bruce and other Bat-related characters staying away from him and letting him live his life in Bludhaven. And Jason? My sweet Chonky? He would be in such a better place if Bruce disappeared from his life, imagine the actually good books we would have if Jason was free to act the way he was meant to do as the Red Hood…

(We saw a little bit of that in the back up story of Detective Comics by Rosenberg, Batman is still involved but he and Jason are definitely not on the same side of the story! So excited for Task Force Z!)

I don’t know If al that I just said answers your question but I hope you have a fantastic week Anon!

#batfamily #batfam #jason tood #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #dc comics #asksss

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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I’m still thinking through names I like for Cass better than Orphan or Black Bat (which I don’t hate like I do Orphan, but I’ve always felt that the name Black Bat came more out of just ‘come up with something franchise themed’ than trying to find something for Cass specifically), for when she’s not Batgirl or Steph is instead. Not for any particular project or anything, I’ve just been stuck on that train of thought since falling onto it the other day.

I think I’ve given up on it being Red themed lol. My dreams for Batfam symmetry are doomed to come to naught. C’est la vie.

Currently though most of the ideas I have are all central to or revolving around communication or connection, because I honestly think those are thematically so PIVOTAL to who Cass is.....but the danger is something like that coming across as ironic due to Cass not being particularly talkative in a lot of peoples’ interpretations or views, and its absolutely not meant to be, not for the reasons I’m thinking.

Like because the thing about her childhood is....there’s so much to focus on that was fucked up about what David Cain put her through, its impossible to have a specific place to ‘start’. But I think something that definitely at least has to be way up there is the isolation he forced her to live most of her early life in. Deprived of even the POSSIBILITY of connection to others. Because connection is so fundamental to what makes us human. As well as to what makes Cass “Cass.” Cass THRIVES due to the connections she chooses for herself. Don’t get me wrong, she’s fully capable on her own, its not about suggesting she’s reliant on them.....for me, its more about the triumph of her having the freedom and CHOICE now to connect herself to as many people as she chooses, when originally her father had meant for her to basically exist APART from society. Emphasizing the importance of connection and communication to Cass is like, a definite fuck you to her dad and his plans for her, a symbol of her freedom and independence.

But also its not JUST that, because its also just about the sheer joy of connecting for Cass, because its the fulfillment of dreams she never really expected to become reality. Because as much as her life with David defined a large portion of her childhood, she was also shaped in no small part by the years she spent on her own....where even though she was out from under Cain’s thumb, she was still influenced by the specter of him and everything he’d ever said to her. She kept herself apart from society for the most part, even though now technically she was free to mingle among it if she chose....because she felt guilt-ridden over the death she’d been party to though it had never truly been her fault and she was very much Cain’s victim there as well as the man who died, rather than him being her victim.

But the point is, a lot of the second half of her childhood was spent in silence as well, albeit self-imposed silence....except also no, fuck that, it wasn’t self-imposed because she was still suffering from the trauma of her worldview being so heavily shaped and influenced by her abusive fucknugget of a father, who’d essentially spent years convincing her that words weren’t for her, that communication, that connection, those were things for people other than her but would forever elude her because she just wasn’t BORN to partake in those things. She stayed outside of society, made no real effort to figure out if she COULD learn to communicate like others did, because her abuse in no small part had revolved around making her believe it was just her place to be silent, her role. That a weapon didn’t need words.

So in the family and fulfillment Cass found later in Barbara and Bruce and Steph and others, like.....it wasn’t just about her finding companionship or even a sense of purpose or direction......she found a voice. Even if she speaks more with sign than out loud or even if she has trouble translating her thoughts into words or sign language due to learning disability or the like, Cass very much COMMUNICATES, she connects, she has things to say, and she more than anyone understands the importance of a voice, whether spoken or written or signed, of the power inherent in just being able to use it and express oneself.

And its equally key that Bruce and Babs and others didn’t GIVE that to her, because how could they? It was something she had all along because the reality is no matter how hard he tried, it was something Cain couldn’t truly take from her. All he could do (and make no mistake, I use “all he could do” to emphasize the ultimate failure of his attempts to control her rather than to dilute the extent of trauma his abuse did inflict) - but even his attempts to cut her off from people and isolate her via an inability to communicate.....they relied wholly on denying her the tools and opportunities to learn how to make use of her voice, of the things she wanted and needed to say.

So its not a gift that Babs and Bruce bestowed on her, because it wasn’t something anyone COULD give her anymore than it could fully be taken from her. But they did help her find that she had things to say and she had ways to say them. That she deserved to be heard and understood as much as anybody, and that she had so much in her that had just been waiting for someone to tell it to and ways for her to do that. They helped show her how to connect her voice to the right audiences for it, to communicate to people who would hear her and as Batgirl and Black Bat.....to people who NEEDED to hear her. For whom the things she could communicate via her actions and protection as much as anything else.....like that was a message they needed to hear themselves due to the abusers and villains in their own lives.

And I just see that as so.....triumphant for Cass is the word I honestly keep going back to the most.

I’ve called Dick’s approach to vigilantism his form of performance art. Carrying something that holds great importance to him even if others might overlook its significance, into what he does as a vigilante in ways that everyone he helps benefits from. Even if they don’t realize that his light-hearted performances even while sweeping them out of the path of danger is as much to help buffer them from the trauma of what is happening to them and how much they’ve already suffered.....those are as much a part of his aim to protect and make peoples’ lives better as his actual martial arts.

In the same sense, I consider Cass’ approach to vigilantism her form of connectivity. Its her message to people who need to hear, to see, to believe that there is help for them out there, that there is someone who wants to come for them, someone who wants to bring them out of whatever hole or isolation or danger they’ve fallen or been forced into....they need this as much as Cass needs it to be able to say look at me, look at my actions, I did that, I said that, that was ME.

For Cass, I feel vigilantism is about finding her voice, finding ways to put into message form others can understand even on a primal level the things she wants to communicate, that she wishes had been communicated earlier to her...that everyone deserves to be connected, to have connections, and to just....speak. In whatever form they can or choose to.

Its about the ability and freedom to use her voice, to impart her messages....and see those things have IMPACT. Be heard. Seen. Communicated.

And for those reasons I keep coming back to something like Songbird, but its ugh....its such a Catch 22. It would be so easy to misconstrue, but honestly I think it fits what I’m describing so well and like.....whatever, ultimately it doesn’t matter since this is just a headcanony thing anyway and not going to actually change anything, but like....I am The Undecided.

(Also I know Marvel already has a Songbird, but a) I dont care, like Marvel is stupid so umm why would that even matter yeah thats what I thought and b) I mean Songbird is an easy name to attach to any color one wants to make part of her name and ascribe particular significance to. Like she could be Red Songbird? Scarlet Songbird? Yes? No? Give up the dream Kalen, Big Red, Middle Red and Lil’ Red just ain’t it? Ugh, fine. Booo.)

But anyway, that’s what I’ve been musing on.

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subarublue · 4 years

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Sparda Family Bonding Time Series - Part 1

Series Description: It’s family bonding time! Sparda family style! A series of short stories revolving around platonic familial relationships between the members of the DMC crew. Warning: Lots of fluff and bonding ahead.

One Shot

Title: Kindred Spirits

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Timeline: Post DMC5

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 4153

Read on Ao3

Summary: Losing a brother is hard, even if you don’t always get along. Which is why Dante is ever grateful for this second chance with his...because he knows someone who’ll never get another chance with hers.

Notes: Mostly just some platonic comfort and family fluff between Dante and Kyrie with a splash of Vergil, Nero, and Nico.

It was inevitable, really.

They’d been back from the underworld for almost a month now, but they were still adjusting back to normal life. They’d been down there for so long, after all; constantly fighting for their lives and sparring each other in between. It wasn’t easy getting back into the normal swing of things. Well, normal for Dante, anyway. Vergil’s definition of normal was a whole other story.

So it really wasn’t surprising that a fight (a real one and not a sparring match) had finally broken out between them. Honestly, Dante was surprised it had taken this long to happen. Then again, he had been trying not to start one, not that he could say much for Vergil’s effort, if there had even been any. He didn’t quite know for sure. Talking wasn’t exactly Vergil’s strong suit; of course Dante wasn’t much better in that regard, either.

He wasn’t even sure what had started it. It probably didn’t matter; whatever it was had likely been trivial. This had been brewing ever since they got back (probably before so, even) and one wrong thing was bound to set them off, eventually.

Because things always ended up like this between him and Vergil. Yeah, sure they were capable of getting along for long periods of time, but somehow, no matter how good things were going, it always ended up in a fight eventually. That was just how it had always been, ever since they were kids. It was just unfortunate that this time it happened at Nero’s place.

Luckily, it was late so the boys were all in bed, sound asleep. At least, Dante hoped they were. They were making quite a ruckus outside and this was not something kids needed to see. Nico and Nero were watching on the sidelines and the latter was trying his best to not resort to yelling at his father and uncle, which would make even more noise. Dante was certain it wouldn’t be long before his nephew dove into put a stop to their brawl.

Except that Nero never got the chance.

Vergil had just given Dante his usual spiel of “Die!” which Dante was sure was only said in anger and he didn’t actually mean it (probably) when a distinctly feminine voice pierced the air with a ferocity he had never before heard from the young woman.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

It was like time had stopped for everyone, including Vergil and Dante who both froze in mid-strike. Everyone turned to look at the petite woman standing on the steps of the porch. Dante wasn’t sure when they had gained another audience, but he now knew that in addition to Nero and Nico, Kyrie was bearing witness to the traditional Sparda way of ‘discussing your problems.’

Apparently though, she was far less than content with the way their family handled their issues. Her hands were fisted in her skirt with a white-knuckled grip and the look on her face was one of absolute fury; an expression Dante had never thought the innocent girl was capable of. When he saw her angry tears beginning to fall, he felt panic well up inside him, though he tamped it down as best he could. He was never good at dealing with crying women. Not that he would have to worry about that. Nero would take care of her.

“If you two want to kill each other, then go do it somewhere else! I’m not going to stand around here and watch you two make the biggest mistake you’ll ever regret. This is our home and I WON’T STAND FOR THIS!”

No one dared to say a word. By now Dante and even Vergil had lowered their swords and while the latter appeared mostly stoic as always, there was the barest hint of shame in his expression. Dante’s expression was more akin to a scolded child. Even Nero and Nico were taken aback, though Nico recovered more quickly. She snickered a bit, but seemed to realize that was a big mistake and tried to stifle it, though the glare Kyrie shot her told everyone she hadn’t been successful.

“Um, Kyrie?” Nero addressed her tentatively in an effort to distract her. This was new territory even for him. They’d had disagreements before of course, but nothing that had ever brought out this kind of anger in her.

She leveled her heated look at Nero, and he stiffened in response until she looked back at the battered duo on their lawn. He didn’t get another word in.

“I won’t repeat myself. Either put those away and get cleaned up or leave! I’ll not have two grown men who are supposed to be brothers trying to kill each other at my house.” Her voice had calmed now, but only because it was devoid of emotion; as if she didn’t have the energy to feel any more. Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back into the house, slamming the porch door behind her causing everyone except Vergil to flinch at the sudden noise.

The silence that followed in her departure was tense. Nero slowly turned to glare at his father and uncle with a look that rivaled his girlfriend’s from just moments ago.

“You two finished, then?” he said through gritted teeth. Dante could tell Nero was trying to rein in his temper.

“Yes.” Everyone was surprised when Vergil spoke first, but Dante was more so by his answer. He’d been certain Vergil was going to drag him off to finish their fight elsewhere. Instead, his brother sheathed Yamato without any complaint. That was definitely a change.

Huh. Guess he really is trying… But his thought didn’t get far before being interrupted.

“Dante?” Nero’s voice still held that angry tone, obviously waiting for a confirmation from his uncle, as well. Dante almost felt like a little kid again, being reprimanded for not paying attention.

“Yeah. No complaints from me.” He dismissed his sword as well to hopefully further appease his nephew.

“Soooo, uh, that was new. Didn’t know she had in it her, ya know?” Nico spoke up then, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Nero turned his glare on her, but it only lasted a second before worry settled on his face and he turned to looked at the door his girlfriend had left through.

“No, it’s not like her at all. I mean, she always gets a little emotional around this time of year, but she’s never gone off on anyone like that before...” Nero trailed off, obviously confused as to exactly what had Kyrie so upset all of a sudden.

“What significance does this time of year hold for her?” Surprisingly, it was Vergil who spoke up out of curiosity this time.

Nero looked stunned at first that his father had even bothered asking, but the look on his face quickly turned into a sorrowful grimace. Whatever the significance was, it affected Nero too, Dante noted.

That’s when he remembered.

Of course. This was the same time of year that the Savior incident occurred. They’d both been kidnapped by that old codger and used for his own, personal world-domination plan. Kyrie had been the bait and Nero had fallen right into his trap. It had been a horrible situation for the both of them. He was lucky he’d been able to rescue them...or well, Nero anyway; his nephew did all the damsel in distress saving. Either way, it stood to reason that the whole event left lasting scars.

“Her brother, Credo...he died around this time.” Nero looked pained as he spoke; Credo had been a brother to him, too. “I had to watch him die, but Kyrie? She never even got to see him one last time or say goodbye.”

At the mention of Credo, Dante’s eyes widened in realization and he suddenly felt very stupid for not putting two and two together immediately. Of course she was upset with them. Kyrie would have probably given anything to have her own brother back and here he and Vergil were, trying to make pincushions out of each other with their second chance.

He remembered Credo’s death clearly in his mind: questioning the dying man for information. Information that he gave freely in hopes that it would put an end to Sanctus’s plans. The man using his last bit of strength to stand, to ask Dante for one final request: to save Nero and his little sister.

God, I never even told either of them about his last moments. Nero probably didn’t even know he was still alive after the Savior took him. I should have...

Movement from Nero drew his attention away from his own thoughts. It was clear, despite what he’d just told Vergil, that Nero was still in the dark about exactly why their fight had upset Kyrie so much, but he was already moving to go after her. Dante panicked before he could stop himself.

“Wait, kid!”

He almost cringed as Nero turned to regard him with an angry look. What had possessed him to stop his nephew? Nero knew his girlfriend better than anyone so the kid was the logical choice to go and comfort her. Hell, he could probably do it better than Dante and Vergil combined, though relatively speaking, the two of them combined was almost never a good thing. Not to mention they both were complete shit at comforting others.

“What? You got a problem? You’re half the reason she’s upset so unless you’re gonna go fix this, just shut your damn mouth.” It was clear Nero was still angry with them, and Dante didn’t blame him. He didn’t like his father and uncle fighting if his stopping their fight right before their little underworld vacation was anything to go by.

But now, Nero was turning back to go after Kyrie, not even bothering to wait for an answer.

I should just let him go. They’ve been together long enough, surely she’ll tell him what’s bothering her and he can comfort her way better than-

Nero was opening the back door now and Dante couldn’t stop the words that left his mouth.

“Let me talk to her.” He regretted them the second he said it.

Stupid. This was a stupid idea. He was no good with crying women. Why was he doing this? Why was he putting himself in a situation where he was probably just going to make matters worse?

Oh, who was he kidding? He knew very well why he was doing this:

Guilt.

Not only did he feel somewhat responsible for what happened to the both of them and Credo, he’d never even told them about the man’s dying wish for Dante to save them. And here he was, fighting with his own brother right in their backyard.

Nero couldn’t cover his shocked expression, not that Dante expected any different of a reaction. In fact, even Nico and Vergil had surprised looks on their faces. When no one made a move to say anything, too stunned into silence, Dante figured he’d have to explain.

“Look, I think I understand what’s really bothering her, so...just let me talk to her. If I make it worse, you can step in and fix it.”

“If you make it worse, I’ll do more than just bitch-slap you this time.” Nero crossed his arms and leveled Dante with a glare to show he meant business.

“Deal.” He nodded to Nero as he passed him to head through the door. He really hoped he didn’t screw this up; for Kyrie’s sake...and his own.

It didn’t take him long to find her; she hadn’t gone far. She was sitting on a swinging bench on the front porch as he stepped out the door. When he heard her quiet weeping, he felt the panic rise up in him again.

Why? Why’d he volunteer for this again? He wasn’t any good at this whole comfort thing. Where was he even supposed to start?

Sorry’s usually a good place. He sighed. Yeah, right. What the hell was he supposed to say sorry for?

Sorry my brother and I not-quite killed each other and bled all over your lawn? Sorry your brother’s dead and mine’s not? Sorry it looks like we’re wasting the second chance we have when you deserve it a hell of a lot more?

God, he was terrible at this…and he hadn’t even said anything, yet.

He heard her try to stifle a sob, apparently now aware that she had company. He swallowed hard. He was not prepared for this at all.

Guess it’s time to do what I do best: wing it.

He took a seat at the opposite end from her. He watched her stiffen when his weight shifted the swing of the bench, slightly. Still unsure on how to start, he looked straight ahead, only glancing over at her every now and then as she tried to quiet her tears. He was half-hoping she’d say something first, though it soon became evident that would not be the case. He was just stalling because he was afraid; more so of upsetting her further than of Nero’s wrath.

He caught her out of the corner of his eye, chancing a glance in his direction to see who was currently sitting with her. He heard her choke back another sob, though whether it was from realizing it was him or some other reason, he didn’t know. It still solidified his thoughts that this was bad idea, but he was already here and Nero was expecting him to fix this. Besides, she deserved to know about her brother’s last moments. It was the least he could do. If he made things worse, he’d just have to let Nero beat the crap out of him. Maybe that would make her feel better, though he doubted it. This was Kyrie, after all. She’d never wish harm on anyone.

He cleared his throat finally, trying to gather up some courage. He knew he couldn’t stall forever.

“I’m no good at shit like this, so you’ll have to bear with me a bit.” Probably not the best start, so he paused to give her a chance to tell him to leave in case she didn’t want to talk to him. When she finally spoke, she didn’t tell him to leave, but she didn’t bother to turn and face him, either.

“It’s very rude to have fights at other people’s houses, you know?” There was a tinge of anger to her voice still. “Especially when you should be happy to have each other back.”

There it was. There was no mistaking the disdain in her voice. She really did think they were taking advantage of this second chance they had. So he’d been right, after all. Now, what to do about it?

Well, set her straight, of course....hopefully.

“I know it doesn’t look like we’re thankful to have each other back, but that’s not the case. Well, for me anyway. I can’t really speak for Vergil, but...he seems to be trying, I guess.”

“Is that how you show it? By trying to kill each other?” He could still hear her sniffle now and then, but her anger was overriding her crying for the moment. He sighed again.

“I ain’t gonna get into why we do things the way we do. We’d be here all night. What I can tell you is no matter how serious it looked, we weren’t gonna kill each other. Maybe a long time ago that might’ve been the case, but not anymore. Things are different now.”

“Because of Nero.” The anger was gone from her voice now, but it was replaced with an emotion he didn’t really think he could deal with well: sorrow.

“Yeah.” The silence following his admission was terribly uncomfortable. She was back to crying quietly again and he decided he should go with what his first instinct had been: apologize. Though he had far more to apologize for than just the brawl in her backyard.

“I’m sorry for what happened back then.”

“Just don’t fight here. I know Nero hates it.”

So do you. He didn’t say it out loud, though. Instead, he opted to correct her assumption. “I wasn’t apologizing for that, though I am sorry for that, too.”

He saw her in his peripheral vision; she slowly turned to face him. He was really glad he wasn’t looking directly at her. He could tell her face was tear-stained and it would have probably shot down any confidence he had to say what he needed to next.

“What are you apologizing for, then?” Her voice was strained from all the crying, but the confusion was still evident.

“For what happened to your brother.”

Her gasp was so quiet he would have missed it if he didn’t have exceptional hearing and he glanced at her briefly. Her eyes were wide and her hands covered her mouth in shock, obviously not having expected his answer. He swallowed thickly.

No backing out now, he thought. “I guess you could say I know what it feels like to lose a brother, too. I thought Vergil was dead for a long time. Even before that, I lost him to his own desire for power. We never really got along very well, but…it still hurt.”

“What happened that made you think he was dead”? Her shock had died down as she’d listened to him, now voicing an obvious question he should have anticipated.

A pained look crossed his face at the memory. She just didn’t know what can of worms she was trying to open. That was something he might tell them someday (or maybe Vergil would, if he really remembered it), but for now it was better left unsaid. They were getting off topic, anyway. Fortunately, she’d seen the look on his face at her question and understood it was a subject he didn’t want to get into.

“Sorry. I should have known better than to ask that thoughtlessly. It still hurts to talk about how Credo died, too.”

They were getting back to the reason he originally came out here in the first place and he was never one to pass up an opportunity, so he took it.

“You probably didn’t know it, but I was there…when he died, you know?”

“Yes, I know. Nero told me. He said you were there to catch him when he fell,” she said it like it should have been obvious and he knew she didn’t understand what he meant.

“No. Nero only told you what he knew.” She looked at him as he spoke and he turned slightly to face her more directly. Surely if he could face demons on a daily basis, he could face this. “He was still alive after Nero was taken by the Savior.” There was a long stretch of silence as she realized what this meant.

“But…Nero said he was probably dead when he fell from the Savior. He said that Sanctus…with Yamato…” She faltered, unable to talk about how her brother had died at the hands of someone he had respected and served. She was crying again now, and it took all his resolve not to look away again.

“Well, he wasn’t.” He met her eyes. He could barely catch the small glimmer of hope in them through her tears. She hadn’t had a body to bury and he suddenly realized that all she’d ever really wanted was a bit of closure, since she’d been practically comatose through the whole thing.

“I talked to him, before…you know.” He refrained from mentioning the man’s death again to try and avoid more of her tears. He turned away again, finding he couldn’t handle the look on her face. “He told me what the old man’s plans were. I guess that was his way of trying to right any wrongs he’d done in his last moments.”

“He was always very noble and selfless. He really thought what they were doing was for the better of the world.” She seemed to have gotten her crying under control somewhat as she reminisced about her brother, but her tone was still heavy with sadness. “And he was never one to be afraid of accepting responsibility for his own actions. I’m glad in his last moments that he wasn’t alone…and he was thinking of redemption.”

“Those weren’t his last thoughts, though.” He braved another glance at her before looking away again to stare at nothing in particular.

“W-what do you mean?” She seemed confused, as if she couldn’t think of anything else that might have mattered to Credo in his last moments.

“What do you think it means? He was pretty stubborn. Even as he sat there bleeding out, he forced himself to his feet so he could meet me face to face and ask me to honor his one last request-” Dante turned back to look at her fully this time “-to save you and Nero.”

Her eyes widened ever so slightly before the waterworks started up again and he felt more panic welling up in him. Great. He made her cry more. God, this is exactly what he was afraid of.

“At the end…h-he was thinking of us?”

She was staring at her hands in her lap as more silent tears fell from her eyes. She wasn’t really talking to anyone in particular; just thinking out loud, but he countered her question, anyway.

“Did you really expect any different?” Her tearful gaze met his and he willed himself not to look away. “You said it yourself: he was pretty noble and selfless. Seems very much like him to be worried about the two people he cared about most rather than his own fate.”

He’d hoped that would be of some comfort to her and stop her crying, but he jerked when she suddenly let out a rather loud sob and lunged forward, gripping the lapels of his coat as she practically fell into his chest and started weeping. He swallowed nervously, half-expecting Nero to come out the front door ready to knock him around a bit, but no one disturbed them and he settled for awkwardly patting her on the back as she cried her heart out.

They sat like that for a while; long enough that awkwardness dissipated for him somewhat. He eventually opted to rest one arm around her back in a gentle half-embrace, which seemed to do far more at comforting her than anything else. Eventually, she stopped crying and he hoped that was good enough.

“Dante?”

He looked down at her as she pulled away from him and the panic came back full force when he noticed there were still tears running down her cheeks. There was something different about it this time, though. This wasn’t the sorrowful weeping from moments ago. Instead, the silent tears were a stark contrast to the gentle smile on her face.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Thank you.” She said before attempting to dry her eyes with the sleeve of her dress.

He let out a short huff of relief. It seemed he wouldn’t get the crap beat out of him for the second time tonight. At least he could say that Vergil hadn’t faired too well, either. More so, he was just happy he could give her that little bit of closure that was long overdue.

“I’m sorry I never said anything before. Nero told me once he was the only family you had left and I guess I just didn’t know how to bring it up. I’m not real great at dealing with cryin’ women,” he admitted. That prompted a quiet laugh from her as he stood up from the bench and offered her a hand up, which she accepted graciously.

“I can understand that.” She gave him a knowing smile. “He was wrong, though.”

“Huh?” Now it was his turn to be confused.

“Nero. He was wrong. Credo wasn’t my only family left.” The smile on her face held a bit of a teasing look to it. His confusion bled into his expression as she took one of his hands in both of hers. “I have a new one now, in all of you.”

Tears started forming in her eyes again at the admission, while his widened in surprise this time. Her expression was anything but sad though, and Dante now recognized these tears for what they were: tears of happiness. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as he pulled her into a gentle hug.

“It’s a bit late and maybe Nero hasn’t made it official quite yet, but...welcome to the family, Kyrie.”

“Thank you, Dante.”

When he pulled away, her smile was brighter than ever, despite the tears, and he thought that…maybe not all crying was so bad.

Part 1 of this series • Part 2 →

#devil may cry fanfiction #dmc #dmc dante #dmc kyrie #my writing #devil may cry #suby scrawls

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atinybitofau · 5 years

Text

W O O Y O U N G ➪ childhood friends au

THE ONE WHERE HE PUTS YOU ON A STUPID LIST.

a/n: kinda halfassed not gonna lie guys I’m so sorry. but regardless I still wanted to put something out for ya’ll so I hope you like it.

• “Y/n stop your whining. Now get ready because we’re going to be late.”

• “But mother, must you always meddle in my love life?! And Wooyoung no less. That man is out to get me!”

• your mother thinks your pleas are half hearted.

• bull hearted at most.

• thinking Jung Wooyoung was the nicest thing on the planet.

• that you deserve him.

• but not only do you not deserve him,

• he’s had it in for you since grade school.

• making sure you made close to zero friends.

• every girl you’ve hung out with,

• dated him at least once.

• and you can’t stand Wooyoung.

• he’s been a pain in your ass since you two were in diapers.

• and now your buddy-buddy mothers are trying to get you two together before you hit 21.

• “I’m not going.”

• she scoffs. “Yes you are. And unless you want your privelages taken away from going to Jongho’s party next week, then you have no choice.”

• “You can’t tell me that! I’m 20 years old!”

• “And still living in my house.”

• you two normally buttheads, you and your mom.

• funny on occasion.

• but this was far from that right now.

• “Remind me never to eat dinner with you again.” you grumble at your mother who also happened to be joining you tonight. “And to never eat your croissants in the middle of the day. Either the thought of seeing Wooyoung is going to make me hurl or your cooking really does suck.”

• your mom laughs at that despite your seriousness. “Honey, I don’t know how you two managed to hate each other all these years but this’ll be good for you. Regardless if you two end up with each other or not, you might actually make amends tonight. And as parents, that is our real goal.”

• you can’t blame them.

• the relationship between you and Wooyoung was bad.

• from ruining important business conferences,

• family dinners,

• each other’s lives—

• it got so bad that other people started to suffer from it.

• so you decided to live it out just for one night.

• “Look, we both don’t like this.” Wooyoung sighs noticing your temper as soon as you two are face to face in front of the flashing lights of the venue. “But for the sake of our parents, let’s act civil for once.”

• you think he’s sometimes the nicest guy.

• but you hated that he was the nicest guy to people that weren’t you.

• he thinks your amazing.

• but hated that other people thought that too.

• your disagreements revolved around the things you envied from one another.

• probably why you hate him and why he hates you.

• “Oh my god, wouldn’t they make the cutest pair?”

• “Their kids would be beautiful.”

• “Those two were made for each other.”

• people would murmur.

• our hands interlocked.

• no feelings involved. (so you think)

• while you two walked around and greeted potential business partners.

• and no. you two weren’t arranged to marry.

• but it sure felt like you both were.

• “Y/n, hey!”

• the one time you managed to slip away from Wooyoung, another willing handsome man saw his chance.

• you smiled back. “Oh hey Jongho. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

• “Well when I heard you would, I wanted to stop by.” he hands you a drink weary about the people around. “I don’t get to see you often you know.. with Wooyoung always around. And since he’ll be at my party next week, I might not even get the chance to talk to you.”

• your eyebrows furrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

• he chuckles at you, lips curling. “You didn’t know?”

• “Didn’t know what?”

• “You’re on the OFF LIMITS list. Wooyoung signed you there.”

• oh god.

• that horrid list the boys of South Korea’s pride made years ago.

• “I’m sorry.” you chuckle nervously, eyes already burning in their sockets. “I think you’re kidding.”

• “You’ve been on there since high school. You never wondered why you couldn’t land a date?”

• you were gonna kill him.

• without knowing his intentions, you were so gonna kill him.

• and he was about to kill the man stepping over his boundaries.

• fists clenched as he approached the both of you.

• “Oh hey Wooyoung. I was just talking to—“

• “And now you’re not. Get lost.”

• you hiss pushing him away. “Would you fuck off? Ugh you’re such an asshole I hate you!”

• he’s taken aback.

• at how fast it happened—

• when you run away.

• not used to you sounding more distraught than annoyed.

• so he follows you.

• worried..

• worried that he might’ve went too far this time.

• usually stays behind the border.

• but he thinks he might’ve crossed it.

• now he’s gotta commit.

• “Y/n! Wait!”

• you look for a nearby place to hide but of course,

• though he’s got short legs.

• walks like an oompa lumpa.

• he’s always been faster than you.

• “What?”

• your glare pierces him and he’s tumbling.

• “What did I do?”

• you scoff in disbelief. “What did you do? Are you seriously asking me that after years of doing absolutely everything you shouldn’t have done?”

• shit.

• he’s thinking,

• you found out.

• about his feelings.

• “Y/n, I—“

• “I can’t believe you Wooyoung. I’ve been dateless my entire life because of a stupid list you kept me on. Because you just love to watch me suffer, single and a complete loser. How much you hate me, I still can’t comprehend.”

• now he’s thinking.

• wow you’re a goddamn idiot.

• eyes glaring back, he hisses. “That’s why you’re angry? Seriously?”

• “Yeah seriously! Why else would I be angry at you? Have anything else you’re hiding behind my back? Another list of sorts. Like the most unappealing females on the planet? List of undesirables? People who wouldn’t stand a chance with any—“

• you gasp when he slides his arms around your waist,

• tilting you like a teapot.

• lips on the spout.

• that spout being your own.

• and you can’t seem to understand.

• why this action would mean he hates you...

• cause well doesn’t he?

• he pulls away breathlessly staring from your unmoving lips back to your just as frozen eyes.

• “None. I have you on none of those lists. Those shouldn’t ever exist. However yes. Yes I did sign that stupid list years ago with your name in permenant ink but it wasn’t because I hated you. Far from that.”

• you don’t understand at all.

• how someone you hated,

• who you thought hated you,

• was suddenly confessing his love for you.

• “Everything you did had everybody in love. You think I’d be an exception? God, I hated that you’d want to share your everything with others. I had to force you to stop. Had to keep you from appealing to my competition cause god knows I already had less than a 10% chance with you.”

• you try to read him.

• his eyes and how he’s never looked at you like that before.

• being single your entire life, you’ve never seen it on someone before.

• is it bad that maybe...

• you only know what that look means because you’ve already given it to him?

• “They could do things that I couldn’t do. Things that you’d fall in love with. And that every time I did what I was capable of, you never even turned your head for me. I envied you and I envied them.”

• Wooyoung was hysterical.

• sounding untouched with his emotions.

• love lust and simple minded.

• confused and hurt.

• but relieved to finally let out his troubles.

• “Why the fuck would you envy them, Wooyoung?”

• cause you’ve always envied him.

• the things he were good at.

• when he was nicer than you.

• hotter than you, fitter than you.

• lord forbid smarter than you (all but right now),

• that everyone wanted him.

• you had no space in his life and felt no need to exert too much effort to make some.

• “I loved everything about you. From head to toe.” he mumbles not realizing he still had you in a princess hold.

• you two confessing in front of a water fountain under the stars like a freaking movie.

• “You let them. You never let me.”

• “You idiot.” you shook your head at him. “Wooyoung, you’re a damn fool, you know that?”

• he feels the way your fingers graze against his neck.

• lost in the feeling and in your eyes,

• then he speaks again.

• “I took things too far this time. And the only way I see this working out for the both of us is if I told you the truth so.. there it is.”

• you raise an eyebrow fighting a smile. “The truth.. That you love me?”

• “For someone who claims they’ve had no experience in love, you sound pretty good at this.”

• you’re never gonna get tired of teasing Wooyoung.

• he makes it too easy.

• you start to think maybe you made it too easy for him to.

• “Probably because I’ve had the experience for a long time. Just didn’t know it.”

• “What?”

• “You know, I was thinking about telling you to take me off that list. Cause you had no right to have put me there in the first place. But now I’m kind of thinking you shouldn’t take my name off.

• “H-huh?”

• “If you still don’t want another man to touch me, Jung Wooyoung, then I suggest you keep me there. Especially since I’ll be your girlfriend starting from today.”

• he’s taken aback at first.

• at how fast it happened—

• now he’s smiling like the fool he is.

• and you don’t see him smile enough, you think.

• and that maybe you’re gonna have to make a list of your own.

• a list of men you’ll never fall in love with.

• he’s gonna be the only man alive to not be on it.

• “A-are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

• you curl your face into his,

• loving the feeling of making him all flustered like this.

• it might be because you’ve gotten so used to teasing the guy.

• or that you might just have fallen in love with it instead.

• “I’m telling you I’m gonna be your girlfriend, Woo. There’s a difference.”

@atinybitofau

#wooyoung #ateez #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez imagines #ateez preferences #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez au #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung oneshot #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung reaction #jongho #enemies to lovers #childhood friend au

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geeks-universe · 4 years

Text

Veritas Vos Liberabit V

The truth will set you free.

Previous Part

Next Part

Tag List: @the-british-koala @ilearnedthatfromethepizzaman @shadowalley

“You’re not fooling anyone,” John muttered, watching his friend from the doorway.

He’d been standing there for the past few minutes, waiting for Sherlock to acknowledge him. It really didn’t come as a surprise when he didn’t, but John figured he’d take the opportunity to study Sherlock.

The good doctor certainly wasn’t as perceptive as Sherlock. He would never claim to be. He did, however, believe himself to be rather smart, especially on the subject of human feelings. Now, John was not an idiot when it came to Sherlock, and he could tell that his best friend was very much becoming obsessive in his effort to solve whatever mystery he seemed to think revolved around you.

There were certainly some things that made you special, but you were rather open about your past and your own thoughts. It was actually a bit frustrating to John that Sherlock was so concerned about learning everything there was to know about you, yet he hadn’t just asked you. Mycroft had been a bit miffed about his interaction with you the day before, and had been around first thing in the morning to complain about it.

John found it rather funny how put out the elder Holmes brother had been, but he noticed the telltale glint in his eyes. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew that Mycroft had fallen victim to your charms just as every other person he’d encountered had.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Sherlock huffed, slipping his coat on while he stared out of the window.

John blew a sigh from his lips, wondering how somebody so incredibly smart could be so blind to their own emotions at the same time.

“Why don’t you ask her on a date, Sherlock?”

He’d never seen Sherlock’s head whip around so quickly. The man looked terrified, which, to be fair, wasn’t far off the mark. Sherlock’s heart pounded against his ribs, a strange reaction to such a mundane suggestion, to be sure. He sputtered for a moment, unsure if he should be angry or appalled.

He settled for some weird combination of the two.

“I don’t date, John,” he spat rather forcefully, “Especially not-”

“John!” You called in greeting, taking the stairs two at a time.

The smile on your face was radiant, and Sherlock glared down at his own chest when the rhythmic beating of his heart only seemed to speed up. You were holding your phone to your ear still, a muffled voice talking from the other end.

“Sherlock,” you greeted, “Hi.”

He pulled his lips into a smile, but continued to study your every move.

“Yes, yes,” you replied to whoever was on the other end of the phone, “I’m perfectl-”

You frowned at the phone briefly, before a rather embarrassed, yet fond, smile replaced it.

“Dad, stop worrying so much,” you breathed out a laugh. “I have to go.”

There was more talking on the other end, which you were incapable of stopping, before you finally hurried out an, “I love you too,” and hung up.

“Sorry, he worries too much,” you explained to your friends, slipping your phone into your back pocket as you approached John.

There was no hesitation as the two of you embraced in a brief hug. Sherlock found himself pouting- no, not pouting, he doesn’t do that- at the apparent familiarity between you and John. Obviously, you were both comfortable with one another. He squinted his eyes, trying to decipher if it was a friendly comfort or a romantic one.

“Maybe he should,” John teased with a smile, “You did walk towards the man with the gun, rather than away.”

The two of you shared a little laugh, amplifying Sherlock’s sudden uneasiness at the thought of there being some sort of romantic involvement written between the lines of your exchanges.

But why would John suggest that he ask you on a date if he was interested?

This, he acknowledged with some amount of annoyance, was the exact reason why he despised human connections. How was he expected to just read your intentions and John’s intentions and his own intentions?

“Hey, did you want something too?” You inquired, suddenly a lot closer to Sherlock than you’d been previously.

He blinked, caught off guard by your change in position. Clearly, he’d been inside his own head for too long again.

A few deductions paired with his piercing gaze was all it took for him to realize that you were referring to food.

“I’ll have whatever you have.”

John didn’t need to examine the scene any further to realize it was another one of Sherlock’s ploys to understand you better. Of course his friend wasn’t going to normalize his strategy. He wanted to solve you, like a puzzle.

John hid his flash of annoyance as he ordered the takeout, trying to discover another way for Sherlock to realize that you might actually be good for him. Now, John wasn’t much of a matchmaker, but he thought the two of you would go rather perfectly together, and Mrs. Hudson agreed.

He just needed Sherlock to see that.

And maybe you too, since you didn’t seem like the type to just swoon over someone.

“I’m going to pick it up,” John announced, surprising even himself at the sudden declaration.

You stood up, obviously ready to escort him, but John shook his head.

“Keep Sherlock out of trouble,” John argued, nodding his direction to his flatmate. “I’ll be right back.”

There was a clear hesitation, like you didn’t think it was the courteous thing to do, but John brushed you off. He was going to make a stop to see Mrs. Hudson and have a quick chat about the two of you, the last thing he needed was you tagging along.

“Be safe!” You called out after him as he descended the stairs, waving a hand goodbye.

“Are you engaging in romantic affairs with John?” The question was fired in your direction the minute John was out of earshot.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, your head tilting to the side at the strange turn of events.

“I-what?” You fumbled for the correct words, giggling a little as you did so. “No, John is just a friend.”

Sherlock hummed, not entirely convinced as he looked you over. His mind was moving a mile a minute, categorizing each piece of information he could discern from your person. It wasn’t a lot, but it was helping to build a more sturdy profile of who you were.

“Sherlock,” you interrupted, pressing your hand to his cheek.

His mind stopped.

Billions of neurons ceased fire, a momentary blip in their ever progressing task. It wasn’t like a sudden braking, where the tires screeched against the ground and the force of motion pushed the passengers forward with a potency capable of snapping necks. No, this was a total pause of everything that made Sherlock, Sherlock.

For just a fraction of a fraction, all he knew was the world being born in the fire of your eyes, and the spark created from the gentle warmth of your touch.

And then, it began again.

The world was spinning once more, his brain working just as it had before, only, tucked in the very back of his mind was the feeling of your hand on his cheek.

“What do you see when you deduce me?”

Your question was barely a whisper in the charged air between the magnetism of his mind and your heart.

“Contradictions,” he answered, staring directly into your gaze as he did so.

There was an echo of a smile on your lips, a brief upturn as you imagined how that might look. It was impossible to perceive the world through his mind, but you tried nonetheless.

“I feel like that’s not a good thing,” you joked, pulling your hand from his cheek and your eyes to your lap.

A coolness replaced your warmth, and Sherlock frowned as he filed that bit of information away.

“It makes you more interesting than most people,” he admitted on a murmur, watching with a bit of concern as you rubbed just above your heart.

The expression on your face was one of discomfort.

“How’d you hurt it?” He nodded where you were still positioning your hand, an attempt to shield the area from further harm.

You leveled him with a stare, not missing a beat.

“Sex,” you replied. “Got a bit more rough than expected.”

“You’re lying,” he tried, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the spot you were injured in, like if he did so for long enough he might be able to actually figure it out.

“Am I?” Your face betrayed nothing, a faux innocence in your gaze.

“What was his name?” Sherlock challenged.

“Who said anything about a man?” You shot back, rising to the provocation he posed.

“How’d it happen?”

“You want all of the intimate details?” You tsked, running your tongue along your teeth. “Sherlock Holmes, you are a surprise.”

His lips turned up for a moment.

“You are an excellent liar.”

You maintained eye contact from beneath your lashes, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’m a bit more like my uncle than I like to give myself credit for.”

The rest of the wait for John was spent in silence as you continued to observe one another- you with an air of disinterest and Sherlock with an eagerness he could barely contain. It seemed the more he learned about you, the more questions he had.

John looked less than pleased when he entered the room to find you guys were not, in fact, making out on the couch like horny teenagers.

“John!” You perked up, breathing in the smell of warm takeout.

“You’re a life saver,” you moaned, causing Sherlock’s hand to twitch at the sinful noise.

The tips of John’s ears turned red, but he didn’t comment on it as he laid a spread of food on the table.

“I hope everyone’s hungry,” he said, gesturing to the food, “I ordered a bit too much.”

“I can’t believe I missed out on this for so long,” you commented, twirling a pile of steaming vegetable lo mein on your fork before you even sat down.

“Was your dad not a fan of it?” John asked, taking a seat by your side as he grabbed himself a plate.

Sherlock still hadn’t gotten up from his spot in his chair, but he was attentive to the conversation between John and you.

“Oh, uh, it wasn’t really something we did when I was younger,” you explained, not giving a lot of detail, but not outright lying either.

Sherlock frowned. You had never really told John a lie. Actually, you hadn’t really told anyone a lie, besides him, and even that was something you admitted to right away.

He hesitantly filed away the belief that you were an honest person in the special place reserved for facts about you as he stood up to join the two of you.

From there on, Sherlock was more of an active participant in the chatting, though he didn’t find it nearly as dreadful as he thought it would be. John was all too happy to have him joining in, still rather put out that his plan hadn’t panned out the way he was hoping.

Though, before he came back up the stairs with the food, Mrs. Hudson had assured him that there was no way that Sherlock Holmes and (Y/N) Morningstar wouldn’t inevitably gravitate towards one another.

And who could argue with Mrs. Hudson’s intuition?

#Sherlock Holmes x Reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock x reader #sherlock imagine #vvl

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fulcrum-agent · 3 years

Text

008. Adroid [FFXIVwrite2021]

"So just...pick a big room?" she asks the punkish apparition, head canting a little.

The redhead nods, smirking a little. "You're a clever girl, Quil - I trust ya won't pick somewhere with so little space, the bulkheads get blown up."

There's the briefest moment of blue screening brain at the compliment, but it's gone in a microsecond.

"'Cept when it comes to that other thing you brought up," she chides, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "That was stupid as fuck, and we're gonna be discussin' it when you're done kicking this Miqo'te about."

Quila can't help but wince, giving the Arcadia a sheepish expression.

All the apparition does to such is wave her hand a little dismissively. "I said later. Call your new potential toy - just be sure ta gimme a show~."

Then just like that, Quila's alone again. Sort of. Mostly. Sighing, she reaches up for the linkpearl that's paired to her tomestone. "Karuis...found us a place to train."

"Ah, and here I thought I was gonna resign to watching the rain bounce off the bulkhead. Where am I meeting you?"

Xe has busied xemselves with taking up a curled up position somewhere in one of the Outlaw's more out of the way pieces of real estate, some cross beams nearby to some of the larger guns. Xe hops down from their Miqo accessible locale as xe wait for the exact location, tail flicking idly behind xem.

"You grab a place ground side, I assume?

"Nah. Arcadia's letting us pick a room," she explains but doesn't. "I figure one of the cargo bays is gonna be best, yeah?"

She's already making her way through the massive ship. She's trying to find where the cargo bays actually are, given she's near the bridge out of habit.

"Long as we have permission, that's fine with me. And aye, cargo bay works fine."

Xe didn't really require an explanation, everything after talking house, living through the memories of others, a massive skeleton trying to kill xem, and whatever the fuck the past few moons have been...

Xe assumes the Arcadia is just as alive as anyone else, and she told Quila what room to use. As xe make their way over to the other airship, xe give some idle thoughts to where precisely in the cargo bay they were meeting before deciding that finding out could be the adventure. Xe gives a slight bow of respect as xe come aboard the Arcadia before xe start moving like a shade through the halls, the map the Viera had shown before of this great airship bouncing about between their ears; as xe try to find... oh, there she is. By providence, luck, or maybe just The Arcadia being well designed xe spot the Garlean and give a half-wave, tail flicking behind xem.

"Didn't get lost, did we? Would be a little concerned if you did."

"Pfft, she'd let me if only to watch in sadistic amusement," she chirps as she turns, startling a little physically due to their lack of footfalls. "But, there are multiple cargo bays here. This is just the first one I've found. This ship is MASSIVE, and I feel like it's some sort of game to her to not just...give me a map."

"I could certainly see that; watching people wander around aimlessly can be pretty hilarious." The Seeker blinks at the noise before rubbing the back of their head as xe put on a small smile. "Sorry, someone had the bright idea to put a bell on me when I was young, fucking menace ever since, apparently. But! I have a map.. kind of, at least I remember the floor plans or whatnot. Rika managed to snag, so I mostly know my way around.. but that doesn't stop me from being thankful that I haven't gotten lost.. yet."

Xe glances about the cargo bay for a moment before turning their gaze back to her and motioning to her, finding a nearby support beam to lean on.

"So, what's the plan for today? Am I starting with teaching you the basics of Thavnarian dance fighting, or are we sparring to see where you are in hand to hand generally and working from there?"

At this point, she's in a pair of shorts (black), stockings (dark purple), her almost-trademark boots (black & gold), and one of those tank tops that the Isghardians were handing out to crafters (wine red). While she doesn't have Talekeeper with her, at least, as far as can be seen, she's still wearing the Warmage magicite Locke'd given her as a pendant to the collar she seems to wear 24/7.

When he speaks of the bell, she ends up giggling a little, trying to picture xe with a collar bell...which was surprisingly easy.

"I'm thinking we try some hand-to-hand so you can figure outplacement," she notes with something of a wicked grin, suddenly ramping towards manic. "Just don't go easy on me."

Xe has swapped over to something more warm with their Bozjan coat now missing for The Twelve only know how long. So the Seeker has thrown on a currant purple anemos gambison, some modified jet black strife pants, and one of their constantly swapping pairs of combat boots, these ones an Alliance make in soot black. Xe still has the twin onyx and dark amber revolvers gifted to xem by Locke on their belt though, besides that, xe aren't carrying any type of polearms. The two accessories that stand out are a watch on their left wrist that has a faint hint of aetheric energy coming off of it and a dull grey gunmetal tin clipped on their right, just about the size of a soul stone.

Xe raises a brow at the snickering and just shake their head a little; that smile from before staying before it turns into a grin at she's request.

"I wasn't planning on it; it wouldn't be an accurate assessment if I did take it easy. So I'll give you one warning before we do go; if you're gonna try and flow again, I'll start using my stone. On your mark, Aquila."

As soon as those words leave the Seeker, their demeanour switches with all the effort of a light switch, mismatched gaze narrowing as xe drop into a defensive stance, the style more reminiscent of an Imperial martial discipline than anything else.

"I uh...kinda don't know how to make those moves otherwise, so game on?" she replies as she falls into...absolutely no stance. There's nothing. Her stance is absolutely neutral all around, and suddenly, all but the most necessary of movements evaporates as she begins to focus on xem. It's slow, but there's a pronounced shift in her entire being, down to an aetheric level. A change she doesn't seem to be aware of.

She's almost maddening to fight. Any and all movement happens with barely a microsecond of warning, yet all of them still flow as though she's dancing, not fighting. Even watching the triangle, her telegraphs are tiny as hell; she always falls back to neutral if there's time, otherwise flowing from one motion to the next as xe fight.

And just like that, she blinks into the Lifestream to close the distance, ejecting just in reach of xe - as she had on the deck, only this time with the intent of actually striking him right in the solar plexus.

Xe would have clarified that xe head meant the blinking manoeuvre, but when xe takes in that she lacks stance, any of those thoughts leave xir mind. The Seeker catches the shift instance, their ears pinning back and tail puffing up as xe prepare for that same focus xe encountered on the deck of The Outlaw.

The dance-like flow to the spar thus far and the speed on display put the Seeker right in their element, moving with all of the grace that being both a Miqo'te and professional performer granted them as xe keep in sync with the Garlean. The Seeker shifts between and around styles like breathing the longer the fight goes on, prodding and poking at her defences to find her responses and strengths to certain things. The Seeker seems to favour a style favoured by Doman resistance cells, sending out elbows and fist and knee strikes in rapid succession.

Like a viper, the Seeker waited for that shift in the air as she went into the Lifestream. Xe know that point for point, xe weren't going to be able to match the manoeuvre for sheer speed, so instead, xe rely on the anticipation of the strike's previous flow. With an utter lack of hesitation, the Seeker moves to send out a swift dragoon kick, less focused on power but more on sheer speed as it snaps the air around the two. xir's body twists for the kick and hopefully moves the blow to somewhere less disastrous should it land. Xe was not about to hold back here, she deserved the Seeker at their best, and xe weren't one to disappoint.

Given that xe is a clever catte, xe'll quickly pick up on certain hallmarks of what she's capable of combatively: one of her biggest strengths is the lack of movement telegraphing, as it makes finding any sort of opening complex, at first. While her eyes seem to be unfocused, she locked onto the triangle that's formed by the Miqo'te's collarbones and sternum, that distant gaze seeming to more stare into their soul than past xem.

Blinking back into a kick sends her strike wide, the palm of her hand skimming along the side of his leg as she adjusts to try and block the kick before sliding around the side of Karius' body. Should she slide past him, her next attack is towards the middle of his lower back - another snapping strike with a bit of aether behind it, her second hand following to make a small follow-up strike.

With a better sense of what xe were working with when it came to her, the Seeker decides to switch up tactics. Xe shifts energy from trying to read the Garlean's movements to instead focusing on following through on their own and keeping a sense of spatial awareness in the room. Xe decides to eat the strike to their lower back, the energy needed to counter that far too much of a gamble; the weaker follow-up was a different story, however.

Turning on a dime on their heel, xe move to face she, using the speed and momentum of the rapid turn to try and veer the strike off to their left with their palm. Now fully facing she and the distance relatively short, xe go on the offensive, taking a far more aggressive stance as xe unleash a combination of palm and knee strikes. Xe wasn't relying on all of them to hit but instead overwhelming the other fighter with a complete switch from their previously tight defence. Xir's aim at the moment seemed to get the two of them out to a far smaller section of the cargo bay or at least push them to fight closer to this area.

Surprisingly, she doesn't smile at landing the strike. In fact, her expression is little more than deadpan as xe launch the continuous series of strikes. At first, she manages to keep up on blocking or redirecting the hits, but the longer xe continues the tactic, the more she has to pivot or dodge than she does block. Finally, it's becoming clear xir is going to overwhelm her with the rapid strikes...

...and as the Miqo'te overwhelms her, she blinks into the Lifestream, crossing through xe before flashing back into existence at their back. She's already executing a roundhouse kick as she solidifies, aiming for her opponent's middle back.

The Seeker was not about to let up the advantage of xir's rapid combos as xe continues to press her further into the smaller section of the cargo hold, boots squeaking against the metal floor as their speed increases. xe were, however, incredibly aware that xe couldn't keep it up forever; either she would come right for their throat or-

The sensation of being teleported through gets xem to shiver, warning xem what may be coming alongside dreading that blink. Unfortunately, there just isn't enough time for xem to dodge the strike, at least not in a way that wouldn't give her another big opening to exploit. So xe quickly turn on their heel and brace their arms up to catch the blow, which still sends the Seeker sliding back and does some solid damage. Xe hiss in pain as xe take a moment to centre xemselves before rushing into the Garlean's space. xir's method swaps now to something far faster, using their stone to gather as much momentum and speed as xe can while bleeding into these dancer-like strikes and spins. Thavnairian dance fighting, and xe gave her a crash course like an Imperial locomotive coming down the tracks.

Active learning at this speed is possible for the Warmage, though it was more of a slow build-up rather than a sudden gift of knowledge the way it can be when there's less going on. Falling back to focusing on dodging more than redirecting or blocking, xe would start to notice the more xe does a particular mood or technique, the more likely it is that she works it into her side of the fighting. With movements the Miqo'te's using heavily, she can almost perfectly mirror them; with the less frequent movements, she's a little unstable and erratic, her form nowhere near as tight and proper.

The continued attacks again start to press her, causing her to play defensive more than offensive.

Xe's next high kick ends with a different result: she doesn't attempt to block, redirect, or dodge such the way she has been. No, instead, she just...bends back at the waist, forming an almost perfect arch as her hands drop to the floor behind her. And then she pushes her feet off of the floor, intent of kicking her opponent with each foot as she shifts into a handstand before vaulting from such to her feet - facing xe, but several fulms away now.

As xe starts to notice she putting xir's techniques into her fighting styles and the like, that.. certainly gets a reaction from xem. But, then, something snaps from behind their crimson and amber eyes. The Seeker continues darting into she's space as much as xe can up until that next high kick, eyes going a bit wide as xe watch that arch and then the kick lands.

The hit lands nicely and sends xe sliding back, getting their tail to puff up and to show off their sharp canines, which are considerably sharper and pointed than even a vast majority of Keepers. Unfortunately, this fact doesn't stay in the spotlight for long as black aether sparks around xem as xe concentrates on their stone and go on an onslaught. Xe was going to put pressure on the fact she couldn't precisely copy their techniques perfectly or keep up with their speed to the same extent. If she continued using flow, then xe wasn't going to go easy, sending forth kick after dashing elbow to shin strike. One of the main strikes xe go into xe get right in her face and attempt a sweeping kick the Garlean before spinning into another kick to her midsection.

The initial onslaught causes her to start losing ground rapidly, causing her to dart backwards as she refocuses on trying to dodge as many of the strikes as possible. However, the moment the Seeker starts to focus on her face, she blinks backwards three separate times - putting as much distance as possible between them. Although she retreats, xe' leg sweep fully lands while the second is more of a light graze across her stomach.

She crashes to the floor as she exists the Lifestream the third time, rolling several times due to the force of the impact. Such is only stopped when the back of her upper body slams into the metal wall with a loud clanging thud. For a few heartbeats, she's propped up against the wall before her eyes fully roll back into her head as she falls sideways.

Xe was in the zone and was hard-pressed to get out of it, especially with the amount of blinking around the place that she was doing. Despite the serious expression on their face, xe were having so much fun with all of this. Xe goes to try and bring down another combination when xe hear that crash.

Xe pauses a few fulms away from the Garlean before their eyes go wide, and xe dart over to her side. Then, cursing under their breath as xe tries to force xemselves to not only calm down but try to figure out what might be wrong with their limited medical experience.

"Shit, shit... Aquila, are you alright?"

((Adapted from an RP session with Karuis.))

#ffxivwrite2021

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sierraraeck · 4 years

Text

Ancient History and Open Wounds (Pt.3)

BAU x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: In an effort to save Aundreya, the BAU has to turn to some unlikely allies before it’s too late. Story twenty.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Kidnapping. I don’t explicitly talk about torture, but it happens. Someone gets shot. Quick mention of previous sexual abuse and drug abuse.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I hope you enjoy part three and how this “event” comes to an end

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

It was like one big nightmare. I felt like I was constantly in and out of consciousness, and I was having trouble remembering who I’d told what and how much they’d figured out since DeLeon opened his mouth. But the game was still on, and everytime he cut the feed, he recorded me trying to convince him not to shoot one of the members. What that recording consisted of? Me saying as many shitty things about them as I could think of in five minutes. And I had to be convincing, because if he thought that I actually cared, then he’d shoot them. Hell knows what he planned on doing with those recordings (I mean I had a couple ideas, like ruining what was left of those relationships or holding them over me as leverage), but I was able to get Roman, JJ, Hotch, Derek, Deen, Niko, Rossi, and Emily off the hook so far. Luckily, Tara was working on some other case talking to some criminal, so I didn’t have to worry about her. But when it got to Penleope, I guess I just wasn’t convincing enough.

But what bad thing could I possibly say about her? That she was the only person day one that didn’t judge me? That she was the reason I was on the team to begin with because she stood up for me? That even when I went to prison and could have been completely alone, she came to visit me? Even after the rest of the team decided they were done with me?

I tried, I really did try, because I knew her life depended on my cruelty. But I failed. I failed at what I was supposed to be good at. And when I heard the gunshot go off, I felt like it was me who’d been shot. I saw her body crumple to the ground, and Hotch and Deen and Emily rush to her side. I saw them call the ambulance, and rush out of the room onto the street when they arrived so the paramedics didn’t know what else was going on. But I had to look away when they put her on that stretcher, with all of that blood, skillfully pressing on her chest, trying to preserve the life I’d just destroyed.

I hadn’t even noticed the tears streaming down my face or the strangled cries coming from my chest when the little red light of the live feed turned back on.

“Aww, do you have something you’d like to say?” DeLeon mocked. He reached up and unchained my arms which came swinging down like a wrecking ball. “Why don’t you look at the camera and tell the two people who care the most about her what you’ve done?”

I didn’t know exactly who he was talking about, one was most likely Derek and everyone cared a lot about her, but it honestly didn’t matter. They would all be mad at me anyways. I croaked, “She’s been shot. Penelope’s been shot. And I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t prevent it. I’m so sorry.”

“Heartbreaking,” DeLeon deadpanned, “But now we’re down to two. Do you know who those two are?”

I did. I knew he was going down the list, as if he knew exactly how close my connections were with each person, saving the closest two for last. But I didn’t want to admit that.

“I know you do. You’ve been keeping track of them and releasing a sigh of relief every time I don’t say their name. Well, it’s time Aundreya. And you know what, I don’t even want to record these. I want you to look at their faces and tell them everything you hate about them. And then I want you to choose,” his voice was much harsher now, no longer sounding like he was enjoying this game as much as he was.

I looked up at the screens in front of me. The first showed Spencer, the second showed Mateo, and the third showed the room they were standing in with the others. I couldn’t do this. There was no way I could pull off hating them. Even if I did, I was sure he would shoot them anyways, definitely the one I chose, or whatever.

DeLeon was getting impatient with my hesitation, “Start. Talking!”

But I didn’t. I couldn't. I would have to come up with something better. But I was running out of time. DeLeon walked over and unchained my legs, knowing I no longer had the strength to fight him. I didn’t even have the strength to stay standing. I collapsed to the floor, only barely catching myself on my hands and knees.

“Look at you. Some big, fearless leader you are now. Didn’t you tell me that you’d never get on your knees for me?”

“I’m still not. I will never be on my knees for you, DeLeon,” I rasped.

He grabbed me by my hair, forcing me to look up at him, “Now tell them all the things we know you’re really thinking.”

He released my hair and my head hung like a kicked puppy’s, and I knew I had to speak. DeLeon’s whole plan hinged on me being a cruel, heartless monster, who couldn’t care about anyone, and he was determined to keep it that way. So I might as well use that, and beat him at his own game. “If you’re after who I care about the most, or who I love so you can take an eye for an eye, it’s not going to work. I don’t love either of them, and not a single person working to help me right now. You think I’m capable of that? Capable of caring for another person, someone other than myself? Putting someone else’s needs above my own? Capable of loving you? I mean, did you really think we were ever in love?”

“Do not turn this on me,” DeLeon spat.

“Why not? That’s what this is about, right? The fact that you actually cared about me, but I had nothing but hate for you? The fact that the next person you were delusional enough to think loved you is dead because of me?” I pushed.

“I told you, you do not have any right talking about her!” DeLeon screeched. I was getting to him. This might actually work.

“Fine, then let’s keep talking about you. You’re just a sad little boy who’s never experienced love or compassion or empathy and is willing to cling to anyone and anything that shows you the slightest bit of attention. That’s why you went after me, right? Because there was no one else around that gave a damn, and even still you had to force me to-”

“Shut up!” His strength was wavering and it was obvious in his voice. His fist was at my cheek again, but I couldn’t pay attention to that. I was close.

“We’re the same. I’ve never learned any of that either, not from a single person in my life. Think about it! The first real passion of mine was hunting down and killing the man that destroyed my family. Then I went on to join a gang where it was kill or get killed, not an ounce of sympathy and everyone was rock hard. Then I took over a gang and transformed it into a ring at the age of 19, and from then on out, everything revolved around me. I was the center of attention and everyone praised me, no matter how many times I fucked up and how many friends I got killed in the process. Even after I went to prison, which was no cushy experience either and happened twice by the way, people were still willing to scrub my feet. And after all of that, you think I’m in love with not one, but two people?” I thought I had him right where I wanted him, fuming with both Mateo and Spencer off the hook.

But instead, he turned back to talk into his phone and said, “Shoot them both.”

Before I could think, I yelled, “Don’t!”

DeLeon smirked at me as he turned around, “And why shouldn’t I?”

“Turn off the camera,” I commanded. DeLeon just looked at me, and he opened his mouth, probably to remind me that I don’t get to make commands, but I repeated, “Turn. It. Off.”

There must’ve been something in my gaze that compelled him to do what I asked, because he clicked the live feed off.

“You have 30 seconds.”

“You want to take an eye for an eye, right? Get back at me for Xena? Fine. Don’t shoot those two, instead let me carry out my deal with Archer,” I proposed.

“And why is that better than my plan?” Surprisingly, he sounded genuinely interested.

“Because in yours, you kill at least two, maybe three people I care about. In the other, you destroy my relationships with everyone. I pick the BAU over the ring, there goes the ring, and then I carry out my deal with Archer to kill the vice president and pin it on Aaron and there goes my relationship with them. My life is wrecked, my eternal unhappiness is guaranteed, and your goal is achieved.”

He seemed like he was actually contemplating my offer, his face scrunching up in thought. “How am I supposed to believe that you will go through with it this time? You couldn’t last time.”

It was a valid point, but I had to confess, “Because I’d rather my life be destroyed than theirs.”

I could barely look up at him from my position on the floor, trying to retain even a shred of dignity, but when I did, his hand was outstretched in my direction. I was so shocked that I just looked at it.

“It’s now or never,” DeLeon prompted. I shook his hand, sealing my fate as the wrecking ball that finally broke the BAU and the ring I started. He leaned over to whisper, “As long as you can survive until they come and get you.”

I recognized a second too late what was happening, not like I could’ve prevented it in my state. He yanked my shoulder out of my socket, turned me on my stomach, and rammed his foot into my back. It was all I could do not to scream as he dragged a blade across my spine.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I wasn’t sure how long it’d been. Minutes, hours, days. But they found me.

“Chambers. Chambers!” A male voice called out. I tried to respond, but all that came out was a groan. “Over there. Call the medics.”

I heard footsteps approaching me, and when they squatted down next to me, I tried to look up at them. The pain was so excruciating that I winced.

“Don’t move,” I could now tell it was Hotch who’d found me and he continued, “More help is on the way.”

“I can get up,” I insisted, moving to roll onto my side. It took me a few seconds, but it happened. Hotch gave me a stern look, about to argue but I pleaded, “Please, Aaron. I don’t want to be carried out on a stretcher like that.”

He knew what I was referencing and just gave me a small nod. “Dave, Deen, help me get her up.”

Rossi gave him a look, but Deen was not surprised. “Are you for real, Alionth?”

“Dead serious, Deen. You know me.” He smiled a bit at that, and the three of them helped me up. I could walk better than expected, but that could’ve just been because all three of them were practically carrying me. When we got outside, Niko, Mateo, Spencer, and Emily were all waiting. “Where is everyone else?”

“Morgan and JJ are with Garcia,” Hotch answered.

“And Roman is holding down the fort,” Deen added, “And Dalton and JT are at the hospital standing guard for Garcia.” I gave Deen a look. Usually he would send others, or ask me before doing that. He just shrugged and answered, “I figured you’d want that.” He wasn’t wrong, but neither was I.

My attention was turned back to the four people in front of me when both Mateo and Spencer approached me at the same time. “How are you feel-”

“Are you o-” They both started and then glared at each other. I wondered for a second what was wrong, until I remembered DeLeon making a comment about me having two boyfriends. And then them getting trapped in the same room together. That could’ve worked out better.

I didn’t have the energy to talk to them or figure them out right now, so I just said, “We’ll talk later. But I’m okay, thank you. Both of you.” Clearly that was the wrong thing to say, because I saw their faces scrunch up further.

“Hey, how did you get him to leave and basically let you go?” Mateo asked.

“I can be very persuasive,” I mumbled.

“Aundreya, what did you do?” Spencer asked, concern and slight panic in his eyes.

“I got out alive,” I answer, “And hopefully got everyone else out alive, too.”

“What did you-” he tried again.

“Stop. I did what I had to.” I couldn’t tell him about the deal I’d made and I certainly didn’t want to discuss it now.

There was a fire in Spencer’s eyes, “Why? Whatever you did, why would you? We were going to find you-”

“You would have died. Don’t you understand that? You both would have died,” I glanced over at Mateo who was surprisingly quiet throughout this. I teared up, “I already cost Penelope … god knows what, and I wasn’t about to add more names to that list of mine.”

“Aundreya-”

I cut him off again, “No, Spencer. If you need to know, I did it because you have something to live for. I’m tired of you not being able to see that.” With that, I hobbled over to the ambulance and sat down, waiting for them to shut the doors and take off.

When they didn’t, and everyone was looking at me expectantly, I looked to the nearest paramedic for an answer. She whispered, “If you want someone to accompany you…”

Oh. Great. I love decision making. “Um, Mateo?” The moment his name was halfway out of my mouth, he was sitting next to me. I didn’t look for anyone’s reaction to that, and then the door clicked shut and we were on our way to the hospital.

“Look I just wanted to-” we both started at the same time. I laughed and Mateo said, “Go ahead.”

“I just wanted to apologize to you,” I started. He looked bewildered as to why I’d need to apologize, but I kept going. “I’ve treated you unfairly. You’ve been here for me through everything, and I worry that sometimes you feel like I’m dismissing you.”

“No, Alionth, you could never-”

“I appreciate that, but I want to finish. When we started this, you offered just a little pushback, and I took it to the extreme. It wasn’t fair of me to threaten you like that, especially with that. So I’m sorry. And just so you know, I’d rather go it alone than do that to you. To you and Niko.”

“Thank you. I know you would never, but it’s nice to hear you say that,” he said softly, with a smile.

“Okay, your turn,” I prompted.

“I just wanted to tell you that despite everything, I was glad to hear that you still consider us family and the place you belong.” He hesitated for a moment, so I looked up at him. He swallowed, “And I do still love you.”

My heart melted, and I tried to ignore the sound of shattering in my ears, thinking about how I would have to return to the BAU to finish what I started. But, he didn’t have to know that yet. All he had to know was how grateful I was for him. “Can I say it now?”

He laughed, “There’s no one here to stop you.”

“I love you too, Mateo.” For the first time in a long time, I saw tears well up in his eyes.

I reached up to brush them away, and he held my hand to him, “God, I just want to hug you or kiss you right now, but I don’t want to mess anything up.”

I laughed with him, giving myself a once over and realizing just how awful I looked. And felt. So instead, I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he delicately wrapped his arm around me. “Soon.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

It’d been a couple weeks, and I was healing quite well, considering everything. Everyone visited me, BAU and ring members alike. It was unfortunate to get a visit from DeLeon in the middle of the night, and I couldn’t believe I had to remind him that before I could get back to my agreement, I would actually have to heal from everything he’d done to me. He accepted this, but reminded me he was keeping an eye on me.

Penelope and I shared a hospital room, and as great as it was to see her, everytime I looked over to all the machines she was hooked up to, I wanted to just curl up and cry. Which I’d done a few times. When she caught me, I profusely apologized for everything and getting her involved in all of this. She reached her hand out to me and squeezed it, letting me know that she was alive and recovering. Sometimes, when I couldn’t sleep, I would just sit there and watch her breathe. It was comforting.

Deen visited the most. He started out sitting next to me, and then gradually moved closer and closer to Penelope each time he came. I tried to hide my amusement, but for as smooth as Deen could be, he was equally as awkward. It was actually funny, to see him floundering whenever she looked at him.

One night, when he thought we were both asleep, he sat at the foot of her bed and was doing what I was often doing, just watching her breathe and hearing the beeping of her heart.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked. It was about 1am, and visiting hours were definitely over.

He looked at me, probably about to make up some excuse, but when he saw the look in my eyes and the smirk on my face, he relented. “You know why. Even after everything that happened to you back there, I knew you knew the moment you looked at me like that.”

“You gave yourself away by putting both JT and Dalton outside her door,” I wiggled my eyebrows. He just sighed. “You really do like her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. She’s just so…” he trailed off, gesturing to her general figure.

I offered a small laugh, careful not to wake her, “Don’t I know it.” And I did know how it felt to be around her. Not only was she a literal tech genius, but in the dark line of work she was in, and the usual depressive state of everyone around her, her unfaltering light was enough to keep her as an asset to the team. It was no wonder that a man, used to working in a ring like mine, would be attracted to someone so pretty, and sweet, and smart as Penelope.

“It’s never going to work, though,” Deen said, looking over at me.

“And why shouldn’t it?”

“Are you blind? Look at her. She’s … everything. What do I even have to offer her? More depressing news?” Deen huffed.

“Are you blind? She’s been flirting with you this whole time. She has a unique way of going about that, like teasing you and pretending to ignore you and only every now and then making a passive aggressive, backhanded compliment, but she likes you, too. Trust me. And don’t degrade yourself. Sure, you’re not as smart as she is-”

“She reminds me of that frequently,” Deen said with a smile.

“None of us are. There is no one else like her, but Deen, you are smart, you are handsome, and you work hard. You’re a leader, and you’re the Penelope of our ring. When things get really dark, you do your best to keep it light. The two of you would be good together,” I finished.

“Thank you, Alionth.”

“Always. Now you just have to build up the courage to ask her out when this is over.”

“Are you kidding me? I nearly choked when I saw her in her work attire, I think I’d have a heart attack and die if I saw her in a dress for a date,” Deen said, eyes getting wide.

“I’m sure you would,” I agreed.

After a while, Deen commented, “That was some pretty good acting, by the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Back when you were on that feed with DeLeon? All those things you said were all very convincing.”

“That wasn’t acting,” I sighed, and Deen's eyes whipped over to mine, “Actually, that was the first time I haven’t been acting.”

“Why? Why then?” Deen was inspecting me curiously.

“I just decided to stop hiding. It’s exhausting.”

“But you do still love them both, right?”

I contemplated that for a few seconds before responding, “I honestly wish I didn’t.” It’d make all of our lives so much easier.

I didn’t have to expand, because Deen seemed to get the message. Somehow, he and I were always on the same page. For the rest of the night, Deen and I sat there thinking about what was to come and thanking our lucky stars that Penelope Garcia, and everyone else involved, was going to be okay.

Series Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl @kris-stuff @blameitonthenight21 @wooya1224 @unded-bride @swiftingday @dezzxmx

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itstimetotheorize · 4 years

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Little nightmares: the first lady of the maw, the sin of gluttony, and the true value of the children, part 1: The past (update, due to the events of little nightmares 2 I no longer believe in the seven deadly sins theory)

with the release of little nightmares 2 in 2020, many of us can now assume that the little nightmares world is being set up for a series of games to tackle a much bigger plot. Which is why I feel that its time to figure out just where the story of this world is headed. I have many theories for this series, but let me start off by talking about the “lady” of the maw, Six, what their connection is, and what its all leading up to. But most importantly, I want to try and make sense of just what the heck happened in the first little nightmares game! so strap yourselves in everyone, cause this is a long one! as such I will separate this post into 3 parts, links will be included to each part.

Now, In the first little nightmares we discover that the “lady” of the maw is revealed to have supernatural powers; she can levitate things, steal the life force from others and even turn children into nomes, telling us that things such as magic really do exist in this world

despite her deadly abilities the lady proves no match for sixes quick thinking in their final battle. Near the end of the game, six at last defeats the lady, and finally gets the chance to escape the god forsaken nightmare that is The Maw... ...unfortunately! six gets hit with one last hunger pain and instead opts to satisfy that hunger by biting and eating a piece of the ladys neck!. The lady quickly dies from her injury and in a bizarre turn of events, six seemingly inherits the ladys deadly powers. Don’t get me wrong, Six inheriting the ladys powers is a nice added twist, since six now has the ability to kill all those that tried to kill her. But as I watched six gracefully make her way towards the exit I began to wonder to myself.....how was it possible for six, a tiny little girl with very tiny teeth, to have the capability and strength to chomp on the ladys neck and leave a fatal enough wound for her to die from!?....unless it wasn't just six who had a part to play in ending the ladys life ...

Although it may seem like the first game revolved around six and the lady, we are all forgetting the fact that the story had another character hiding in the shadows, that character... is shadow Six.

shadow six has been seen by mainly us, the audience. Every time six has a hunger pain and begins eating to satisfy that hunger, shadow six appears and watches six eat her meal from a distance. But what exactly is shadow six? and why is it that six never noticed it was there?

Well let me start off by saying that I, as well as others, do not believe shadow six is really six, but rather some dark entity trying to take on the form of six. Some believe that shadow six is a representation of her slowly succumbing to evil. Others have even speculated that the little nightmares games have a connection to the seven deadly sins and that this dark figure along with the rest of the staff in the maw, each represent a different sin, maybe, but what if they didn't?

The only other times we see a suspicious dark entity appear in the game is when six is fighting against the lady. Every time six points the tiny mirror in her hand towards the lady, the lady yells out in pain then teleports away, leaving a trail of black smoke/specs in her path, this trail of dark specs is identical to the darkness that surrounds shadow six whenever she is on screen .

In secrets of the maw when the runaway boy gets captured by the lady, the lady levitates the boy into the air and a cloud of darkness begins to cover him, turning him into a nome.

When six inherits the powers of the lady, shadow six appears one last time, all be it very faintly (I cant see her in this picture, but its been verified that its there), and when it does, dark specks of shadow begin to surround six with a loud buzzing sound.

Where am I going with this?, what if the shadow six we have been observing was never a manifestation of sixs evil side, but rather a manifestation of the “ladys” powers following six around !.. If this is true, then what the heck kind of power is the “lady” using and how is it that it can manifest itself to do what it wants, it should be after-all powers that only the lady can control...unless their not. what if these powers were never hers to begin with? what if they were original someone elses?

Many people have theorized that the “lady”we see may in fact not have been the original “lady” of the maw. But if she really isn't then who is?. In little nightmares secrets of the maw, the antagonist known simply as “the granny” is believed to be the mother of the lady, and that this granny may in fact have been the previous lady of the maw... until she was overthrown and had her powers taken away from her...by her own daughter!, that daughter would of coarse be the current lady of the maw that faught six.

what makes everyone say this? well, in the game, as six makes her way up the stairs to the ladys room we get to see a variety of pictures hanging on the wall. Out of all the pictures we see, 2 of them have been talked about the most. The first is the picture of the lady and what appears to be four other geishas standing next to her, but have either been scribbled out or painted over in black.

the second picture, depicts a little girl in a yellow dress standing next to the lady

At first, many of us are lead to believed that this little girl is six. But I, as well as others, believe that the girl standing next to the lady is actually the lady when she was a child, standing next to the granny when she used to be the lady of the maw, so, what happened?

throughout the maw we can see various pictures, including more bizarre pictures of different geishas, (thank u animators for releasing these)

and even statues of different geishas

originally, fans believed that the granny was someone who valued her beauty but soon began to have fears of what would happen to her beauty as she grew older and older. It was then that the lady began to practice magic in a effort to find a way to make her beauty last forever. However, if their really were multiple geishas in the maw then out of all the geishas we have seen in pictures and statues thus far, its likely that the granny was never even the first lady of the maw...if so, then who was the one that practiced magic...who was the FIRST lady of the maw?

out of all the pictures we have seen, I’m guessing that the geisha with the red lips was the first lady of the maw, after all its her picture that’s hanging in the library in secrets of the maw. In librarys, its usually traditional for the pictures of the founders of the library to be hung up for everyone to see. So its possible that the first ladys picture was kept in the maws library as a reminder of who founded the library and the maw.

it was this lady that originally studied and practiced magic in an effort to find a way to remain eternally beautiful, . However, seeing as things such as eternal youth and eternal life are things not commonly obtained with good magic, perhaps as the original lady grew more and more desperate for a solution to accomplish her goal she began to dive deeper and deeper into darker, more forbidden forms of magic in her library.

eventually the original ladys search lead her to the one subject that would guarantee her results, demon summoning!.

Demons, in many folklore and religions, have always been depicted as evil entities who are more than happy to strike a deal and give a person whatever it is they want in exchange for their most cherished and valuable belonging, their soul.

The original lady could have discovered a way to summon a demon and when she did, she didn't just summon any demon. In her desperate attempts to satisfy her growing desire for eternal beauty, the original lady might have caught the attention of one very powerful demon...or rather...one of the 7 princes of hell, who are better known today as.... the seven deadly sins!... but which one?

In the game, gluttony had long been speculated to play a role in the maw. Many speculated that each member of the maw represented a different sin... however, what if they all represented a single sin... gluttony. In the game, Six, the guests, the staff and even the lady revolve around satisfying some sort of hunger or desire. So maybe years ago the originally lady struck a deal with the sin of gluttony to not only give her life long beauty but to preserve that beauty forever

however, these are demons we are talking about, if she did in fact make a deal with the sin of gluttony there must have been one or two major twists that came along with that deal, if so... what was the twist?. In secrets of the maw, when the runaway kid is sneaking around the ladys estate he comes across the current lady starring at herself through an unbroken mirror, its here that we finally see for the very first time the ladys face...except... we soon realize that despite her appearance as a beautifully masked geisha, the mirror reveals the ladys face to be a horrifically ugly creature ... and yet... something about this doesn't make sense...her mask.

the current ladys mask does not match her large facial structure seen in the mirror, and its not just her face. Her hands, which appear small and slender... appear long and pointy in the mirror. If this is true of her face and hands, then its likely that the rest of her body doesn't match either!

but why? and how is this related to the granny when she used to be the lady?

If the current lady has a horrific reflection, its possible that the granny and every other lady of the maw before her had a similar situation when they each used to be in charge, but why?

Perhaps when the demon granted the first lady eternal beauty and eternal life, the demon decided to put a twist to her wish by making it so that her beauty could only be seen by others and not by herself!...the first lady lost the joy of gazing at the beauty she prided herself in having, and instead was forced to look at a reflection that highlighted her true self....her true self being of course... a hideous monster. And it didn't just stop there..

in order to accomplish the first ladys deal the sin of gluttony must have decided to posses her! and rather than just stand idly by and let her continue on with her life, the demon forced the original lady to work for it in order to maintain the deal.... by feeding it!

(picture by Michael Breznau)

since a demon needs souls to be satisfied and not food like other living things the lady resorted to inviting others to her home... then later feed them to the demon inside her! Now clearly, after being pampered and feed, any guests/ customer would try to leave a business, however, the sin of gluttony didn’t want this happening... they had to stay. In order to keep the guests in the ladys establishment the sin of gluttony could have spread its influence to the guests, giving them a never ending appetite that could only be satisfied by staying in the first ladys establishment.

And when they did, the lady used the powers that the sin of gluttony granted her to suck out the life and souls from her guests...feeding them directly to the demon inside her.

Unfortunately, as the demons appetite grew more and more uncontrollable the first lady found herself taking more and more drastic measures to satisfy its hunger.

With all the spare bodies lying around, the first lady must have decided to use those bodies as food to expand her business, throwing away any form of clothing and luggage they might have carried elsewhere in the maw. The shoes and luggages of course, piled up over the years until it created a sea of shoes. This was the point of no return... the original lady was now feeding her guests to other guests!

If the guests were really eating other people this would explain why six never ate any of the food lying around the maw, she knew it was made of people!.

Having a life where you would have to work endlessly for a demon sounds horrible once you think about it, so then why, why did the original lady continue to do this even if it meant she could never look into the mirror and gaze at her own beauty? ....most likely because the fear of death outweighed every sense of desire to break the deal and face the consequences.

And while we are on the subject of her reflection, I couldn't help but think back to one small detail in the game. in the game six makes her way into a bathroom that reveals a suspiciously long mirror hanging on the wall.

when six broke the mirror, we discovered that it was in fact a fake two way mirror leading to a small room with a single chair in it.

In the firstl ladys desperate attempts to cope with having a horrific reflection she must have had a two way mirror installed in the bathroom so that whenever a beautiful woman guest gazed at herself in the mirror the original lady would be standing on the opposite side... staring at her... pretending to be looking at her own reflection as a way to cope with her hideous reflection.

when six enters the ladys residence its noted that throughout the rooms. broken mirrors can be found practically everywhere.

but as we have seen, not all the mirrors are broken. In the secrets of the maw, the runaway kid comes across the lady staring at herself in one unbroken mirror...which may possibly be the only intact mirror in the entire estate of the lady.

but why does she have this one mirror unbroken?... maybe after the first lady discovered she could never see her own beauty through a mirror...she broke every mirror she could find out of frustration...except for 2. Perhaps she kept one large mirror so that she could come back to it every now and again in hopes that one day she would wake up, look into that mirror and see that she is just as beautiful as she remembered. Years later, when the new lady of the maw took her place, the new lady would unknowingly find herself doing the same thing as her mother, and every time they did look into that giant mirror...they would cry...as they realized that they would forever be horrifyingly ugly. This cycle continued over the years as each new daughter took the tittle of “the lady of the maw” for themselves (I’ll get to the second mirror in a bit)

but why would each lady even take on a daughter that would one day overthrow her from her title of “lady”. Why would the daughters even agree to living their life forever beautiful in the eyes of others but never to themselves and forever a slave to a demon inside them....unless....they didn't know?

-end of part 1, continue in part 2

part 2 link: https://itstimetotheorize.tumblr.com/post/627840226274033665/little-nightmares-the-original-lady-of-the-maw?is_related_post=1

#little nightmares #little nightmares 2 #little nightmares six #little nightmares the lady #ln #LN2 #very little nightmares #little nightmares secrets of the maw #six #the lady #little nightmares II #little nightmares mono #mono #mono and six #little nightmares theory #little nightmares theories

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linkspooky · 4 years

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The Characters of Nisioisin (2)

Trickster - Ii (Boku)

This is a post in an ongoing series about the common character archetpyes used by Nisioisin. If you want more information check out the previous post, here. Consider this a part two of that same post. Today we’ll be looking at the nonsense user, and deceiptful protagonist from the aptly titled series “Zaregoto” or in english “Nonsense”. More underneath the cut.

I established the four criteria we are going to be dividing this post into in the previous post, as well as introducing what the idea of the trickster archetype is. Using Kumagawa as the UR-example we’re going to compare Ii-chan with those same tropes.

Introduced as a Villain

Subverts Expectations

Lying, Liar who Lies

Inherent themes of Nihilism

1. Introduced as a Villain

So, next Iichan. He's a special case out of these three because he's actually the series protagonist. But he still kind of fits the criteria because in his series the basic premise of every book is that iichan goes somewhere and a murder happens and then he tries to solve the murder for like the whole book and he sort of kind of solves it and then Jun Aikawa whose much more of a "hero" character than him, the coolest, sickest, strongest detective ever shows up out of nowhere and lectures him.

The sort of conflict set up between Ii-chan and Aikawa as two detectives of the story reminds me of a quote by Maiji Otaro, author of Jorge Joestar (among other things).

“Two detectives, one true. If both are detectives, then both must arrive at the same truth. But does that happen in the novels of this world?” “Most novels with two detectives have one solve it and the other discover the real solution hidden behind it.”

“At that point, are they both still detectives?”

“Hmm.. they’re treated like detectives but certainly, within that novel, the latter is the real detective. But they might switch places in the next novel.”

(Jorge Joestar).

Ii-chan is never introduced as an antagonist from the start of the series he is and always is the narrator. However, he’s still introduced as something he is not. Kumagawa is introduced as a villain and goes on to become a deuteragonist. Iichan is a main character but he doesn’t affect the story like a main character ought to, nor does the story really revolve around him.

So there’s still an inherent lie to his introduction. He is introduced as the center of the story but he is not the story’s real center. However, there’s another subversion implicit in Iichan’s character from the first novel to the second novel.

The first novel is the one where Iichan plays the role of the detective the most straightforwardly. He figures out the trick, solves the case, corners the murderer, but doesn’t solve it all the way and gets lecture by Aikawa at the end. However, there’s a strange way that all the characters react to Iichan despite the fact that he constantly makes himself out to be just a completely harmless, and incapable normal guy.

“Ther’s no meaning. Just like there’s no meaning in your actions. You know, you’re, wow, so you’re the kind of guy who’ll get angry for the sake of a complete stranger. That’s not a very good thing. It’s not bad per se, but it’s not good. [...] That’s because people who can expose their emotions for the sake of someone else are the same people who blame things on others when something goes wrong. I despise people like you.

It had to be the first time in quite a while that someone had spoken that harshly right to my face. Slowly, she brought her glaring gaze to meet my eyes.

“You just let yourself get carried along by other people. You’re the type wo ignores traffic lights just because everyone else is doing it. You’re an abomidable excuse for a human being. They often say ‘Harmonize without agreeing’ but in your case, young man, it’s like you’re agreeing without harmonizing. I won’t say that’s bad. I won’t say anything as to that. One’s identity and worth are not always connnected. A train that runs along a track is better than a train that doesn’t. So I won’t say anything as to that. But I hate people like you. I despise them. People like you always blame things on others, never acknowledging their own responsibility.”

Ii-chan as a character who is introduced as harmless, and passive, never making any choices until we are shown explicitly in the second book that he is not. It’s with his choices in the second book that his true character is revealed.

2. Subverts Expectations

Though for Ii-chan it should really be “avoids any and all expectations.” The Zaregoto is a series that continually asks if the actions of its protagonist are meaningless or not. If any action that Iichan takes effects the outcome of the story in any way.

In Strangulation Romanticist, Ii-chan gets involved with a group of friends who all end up dead or in prison by the end of the story. The central question is what role did Iichan play. Here are some things Ii-chan does in the book, meet with a serial killer and then lie to cover up a police investigation and a private investigator tracking him down giving him time to kill more people, destroys police evidence of another investigation, taunts one girl who murdered another girl into killing herself to atone, knew another murder that was going to take place and did nothing, and then taunts a second girl who wanted to kill herself into killing herself who only survived because the police talked her off a ledge.

“Charges? What charges?” “Falsifying information in regards to the Emoto case, encouraging Aoii’s suicide, not to mention concealment of evidence, plus withholding information and having that little rendezvous with Atemiya. Normally they’d have your ass for that, which I’m sure you’re well aware of, but I’ll take care of it for you. Althought, I suppose even if I didn’t Kunagisa probably would...” (Zaregoto Volume 2)

Therefore, Iichan is someone who acts but doesn’t really face any real consequences for his actions, and that’s because he’s a master of avoidance.

In psychology, avoidance/avoidant coping or escape coping is a maladaptive coping mechanism characterized by the effort to avoid dealing with a stressor. Coping refers to behaviors that attempt to protect oneself from psychological damage.

Iichan is subverting a lot of expectations. He is the protagonist, but the story is not about him. He goes through all of these stories, but he doesn’t ever seem to grow or change from them. He’s a detective, but he never really solves the case or even cares that much about reaching the real truth. He’s written to be a subversion of everything the main character of a detective novel should be.

However, Iichan is also very aware of how a detective should act and deliberately playing with and subverting those tropes. Not only does he subvert the expectations of the reader, but also of the characters around him. He is avoidant, in that way it means he avoids any kind of contfrontation.

I didn’t hate losing. I hated compettition. I was thoroughly put off by the idea of vying for others over something. I hated fighting as well and thus never made friends.

This is a line that gets reused for Kumagawa as well.

Which helps to illustrate the difference between them. Let’s say there is a problem, Kumagawa will charge head first at the problem and it will explode in his face, and Iichan will do everything in his capacity to never confront the problem or deal with it in any way possible.

Iichan is deliberately aware and sensitive to the expectations of the other people around him, and he feels like he will always be too inferior to fulfill them so he doesn’t even bother to try.

“I have been doing so.” I said. “But you know I have limits, too. It seems like everyone and anyone harbors some sort of expectations from me, and of course I would love to meet their expectations, too, but I cannot meet the expectations if I lack the capability. So to have someone say you failed my expectations is nothing but bothersome.”

Zaregoto Volume 4.

The way he avoids the expectations of others is rendering himself as ambiguous as possible, which is where we get to the next part.

3. Lying, Liar who Lies

Iichan is an unreliable narrator who never tells the truth in a straightforward manner, and even lies for half of the second volume. However, there’s more than that, there’s a deliberate trick to the lies he tells.

Iichan is someone who defines himself as ambiguously as possible. He acts like someone who others cannot possibly understand. Despite narrating from the first person, Iichan is only comfortable when he is not known by anyone. Iichan acts like someone who is barely present in his own story.

Answers have no real point. They’re vague and ambiguos and unsound, and things that are fine that way. In fact, they’re better. Causing real change is a role that should be left up to the true “chosen ones” outstanding individuals like that scarlet Mankind’s Greatest, and the Blue Savant, it was never my responsibility. It was no job for a common loser. For the comic sidekick.

Zaregoto volume 2.

Once again we see the contrast between Kumagawa and Iichan, if Kumagawa is a character who shows how strong and capable one loser can be, then Iichan often waxes poetically in his narrative about how weak and incapable he is. If Kumagawa is a good loser, than Iichan is a sore one.

Iichan defines himself as ambiguous on purpose to avoid responsibility for his actions. In less fancy words, if nobody can understand Iichan than nobody can call him on his shit. That’s his goal, essentially. He doesn’t want to work hard to change, or be confronted about any of his actions, because for him merely the act of living takes all of his effort to tread water without making any progress.

Avoidance is a trauma response, Iichan spends all of his time distancing himself from his own actions rather than confronting any of it. However, Iichan is more complicated than that because Iichan’s ambiguity has another side effect making him out to be something that he is not.

“Just by being there, you startle others, just by being there, you make people lose their grip on themselves.. ther’re a bunch of people like that. You can’t relax when you’re with them, it annoys you, things don’t go as planned, people like that, you know, they’re even scientifically explainable. In other words the missing part. Because the missing part for the observer ends up looking the same, it feels like the person is having their ineptitude pointed out at them, and it startles them [...] You’re just like everyone, and that picks at people’s subonscious, that’s why you’re aimless. And yet you still manage to come out on top. [...]”

Zaregoto Volume 3

All of these things Jun points out in this scene are Jungian ideas of the trickster. Iichan is an inferior person who seems to exist to point out the inferiorities in other people, and use it to play tricks on them. While viewing him as this role of the trickster, Aikawa is not really treating him like a person. (Aikawa’s very dramatic).

Which is where Iichan finally gets his trick. It’s a trick in two parts. He constantly underplays his own agency, while at the same time overplaying his suffering.

In other words, while insisting that he is the least improtant person on earth, Iichan at the same time hems and haws like the main character of a tragedy. IIichan wants people to empathize with his suffering, and he wants to be important, but he doesn’t want any of the responsibility of being important. He doesn’t want to take any degree of control of himself or others, so he tries to balance himself between these two conflicting ideas.

1) He is not a protagonist, and therefore the events in the story have nothing to do with him. 2) He is the main character of a tragedy. The world is centered around him, he is someone special and important, and that makes him suffer, but he takes no agency in the role.

Doing this he gets the best of both worlds. He gets to always be involved and important to others, while at the same time uninvolved and is never held accountable for his actions. He’s never challenged or forced to grow or change in any way.

These are the two lies that Iichan tells, and those lies form a narrative. Iichan is lying to give a narrative to his own trauma, and therefore try to extract some kind of meaning from it.

4. Inherent Themes of Nihilism

We once again return to the sacred image.

Iichan is a moral nihilist. He’s on the elft side of that image.

Moral nihilism (also known as ethical nihilism) is the meta-ethical view that nothing is morally right or wrong. It is built on three principles.

1. There are no moral features in this world; nothing is right or wrong. 2. Therefore, no moral judgments are true; however, 3. Our sincere moral judgments try, but always fail, to describe the moral features of things.

Iichan’s view is basically that of, if there is no meaning to this world then any attempt to define meaning is pointless. He (let’s say it again class) usually uses this as an attempt to evade any and all responsibility for his actions.

Iichan doesn't want other people to look at him, he doesn't want to be at fault when things go wrong, but he also wants to be important. So he's continually on a tight rope walk with those two very conflicting desires.

So basically Iichan sees no value in his own actions. He sees no value in the world. He doesn't really have any set of morals, except that he thinks murder is bad. Except sometimes he doesn't really care if certain people are murderers. Zerozaki is a murderer and Iichan hates him but doesn’t actually make any sincere attempts to stop him. Kunagisa commits murder in volume 4/5 and Iichan goes out of his way to cover it up. He apparently doesn’t consider goading a girl into suicide to be a form of murder. But at the same time he's so desperately searching for meaning, because he wants to feel fulfilled.

Iichan thinks that talent and genius are perhaps one thing that could give the world meaning. His best friend is a super genius, and he kind of clings to her and is jealous of her because she's someone special. See he thinks there are people whose lives have meaning despite being a pretty blanket nihilist, but because he's not talented he's not one of those people. Talent is something that could possibly give life meaning but being outside of the talented people it makes no difference to him he can only gaze at it from afar

Iichan is someone who is constantly downplaying his own meaning, while at the same time trying to find some meaning vicariously through others, like Aikawa and Kunagisa who he considers to be the real heroes of the world. Despite Iichan insisting there’s no meaning, he also has an attraction to narrative view of the world. Which is something that you know... has meaning, because stories are written with intent and purpose by an author.

In the sixth volume there’s a concept called “The Story” which one character belives that everything is pre-destined, like it’s all some pre-written story. Therefore while you can make small changes in your own actions it never effects the big picture in any way.

This is once again a very convenient idea for Iichan, who avoids responsibility to believe in. He’s very attracted by this idea because it takes control out of his hands and means his own actions aren’t really his fault.

To be honest, this must be one of the most boring conversations to be listening in on. It had gone so far into the conceptual, that even for myself, participating in the conversation, the words of the man with the fox mask seemed as hazy and illusory as a dream. You could say I do not understand what he is saying. However, then why. Then why does what this person says strike so deep? Why does it resonate? [...] Then, no. I do not want any part of such importance. I do not want anything to do with the core of the story.

Here we go with Iichan’s double negative, he denies having any role or agency in the story and yet at the same time believes that such a thing as the story exists because it means to some extent his actions are out of his control because he can’t accept that they are.

Is Iichan’s role in the story ultimately meaningless? No. There are always clear and distinct consequences for his actions. In the same volume (6 - cannibal magical) where the concept of the story are first introduced that everything is predetermined and you can’t change the big picture, the events of the story disprove that assertion.

Iichan is given like, a million warnings not to go to a lab. Aikawa tells him not to go to a lab because she has a bad feeling about it. The literal assassin sent to that lab talks to Iichan and says “Yeah, I was sent here to kill people.” Another person who was in the same situation just walks away from the problem. Iichan sees the assassin going out to kill people in the middle of the night and just chooses to... go to sleep.

Then he wakes up to everyone dead in the morning. The point being Iichan had a million chances to avoid this situation, takes absolutely none of them, and then acts like this was a completely unavoidable fate. He hems and haws about having no choices, but he’s clearly given choices, he just doesn’t take them, or makes exclusively bad ones.

Iichan wants to avoid consequences by not choosing, however the choice to not choose is still a choice in itself. Everything is a choice. Even avoidance is a choice. Which is why Iichan’s actions do actually have meaning, just not in the way he wants them to. He’s not a special person, and he’s not anyone extraordinary, but he is someone who has to face the consequences of his actions no matter how many narrative tricks he pulls to avoid them.

The actual trick of Iichan’s story is that he really is the protagonist, he just doesn’t want to be.

#zaregoto #zaregoto meta #nisio meta #nisioisin #iichan #boku (ii)

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konietzko-sylvoran · 4 years

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Let the Memory Live Again

"But here? Here is where I decided this year's tradition simply had to happen." Talthorn had taken Konietzko to the highest most peak of Highmountain, a place he’d seen time to time in his life but had never climbed nor flown too before in truth. And yet as they stood there now he couldn’t help but stand there and stare in complete awe. The chill of the winds this high up was almost as cold as the Northwind winds... almost. But the skyline and the stars that he gazed at all around them had truly taken his breath away. Never had he seen such vibrant colors this high up, the stars all just seemed to shine brighter than he’d ever seen them before.

"Now, this a personal tradition and this one just happens to fall around this particular season. I admit I have not been able to do it every year due to unexpected happenings, but! I do always make a conscious effort that if I am capable to do this. I shall. You're the only person I've ever wanted to share this with. For a multitude of different reasons."

"It's... beautiful. Breathtaking even. I've never seen the sky quite like this." he admitted to him as he was pressed to look away and over to his lover at his side. "What, is your tradition?" He asked him curiously. "I'm honored that you wish to share it with me."

The magi would go to put down his pack and unearth some specially made lanterns of his own making. They did have a glimmer of magic about them most certainly, but the way that the stars and moons were painted with a certain skilled hand, it was clear they were specially made for this small event. One was a blue color, another of pink color. He would happily hand one up to his beloved, the blue one with the starflower preserved on the side. On the other, aethril was painted much the same. "Well tonight is going to commemorate life. A very special life." he smiled hoping that he didn't shock Kon with that information. He was the only one that knew, and it truly was a time to celebrate something that changed his life forever. "Will you help me do such, my heart?" He would not blindly assume, but it was something he knew Kon could appreciate in his presentation. And appreciate it he did. In fact, he looked deeply touched as he loved the symbology of everything he and Talthorn shared and the fact that he put these little elements into it made it all the more special to the venatic. But when he said that this was to commemorate life his eyes instantly raised to look to Talthorn then with a very knowing look. He knew exactly who he was talking about, his gaze took on that touched look that also held an edge of sadness to it as he studied Talthorn's eyes very closely. "I would be honored to celebrate with you and to pay my respects as I hoped I might get too one day."

Talthorn knew Konietzko would be looking over for maybe for his sorrow, or his pain but there would be none to find this night. Rather he had deluded himself so deeply that this just was such a happy thing because of his promise, or if he adopted this idea fully as part of his life it could not really be seen. The magi believed right now, with all he was that this was a beautiful time and there was nothing that could change that for him. "Wonderful! So...let's start at the top. With this! This is truly a landmark of grand proportions. Giving inspiration to want to reach the most high of places." he gestures to the landmark with the hanging scroll and reads it. "In honor of those who ascend to unimaginable heights. May your spirits continue through the dreams of others who follow..." Talthorn casts a nod and hold out a wand like item. He takes a moment to mutter a word and it sparks of a magical fire. "We will light our beacons to symbolize our souls this night..." he would move to light the bottom of his, and hand it over to Konietzko slowly to take and light his own.

As Konietzko took it and began to light his own, he would repeat the very words Talthorn had spoken in honor of who this was truly about. His actions made Talthorn hold his breath as he looked to him. "We'll do this all in spirit, together...." Talthorn spoke gently and weaved his magic out in front. An illusioned image of a young boy would conjured up with his lantern in his hand, looking bright eyed to the sky with wonder and happiness. He would turn to them both as if he could see them both, smiling with warmth that was not at all just a vision. This....happened. Sometime Kon could not be sure, but that image was Ka'ness motioning when he was well.

This was the first time that Konietzko had ever seen the boy he’d been told so much about, and while it was merely an illusion of a memory that Talthorn held dear it was almost as dear to him that he would share it at all here and now and touched him deep within his chest. "Tether not the soul to this mortal realm with this offering, but have it be a brilliant light of memory to soar with and bring joy to that which still lives here. Let it dance as our hearts do this day, in remembrance of you." The magi would look over to his beloved and motion up slowly to have the lantern move up into the air without letting go to get him to follow along and he did. Talthorn would then move to push his moon and star lantern up so it could float upward, kissed with a little bit of arcane to help it not lose course. Reaching out for Talthorn’s hand in his, together they’d watch the lanterns rise even the one of Ka’ness and his own imagined lantern. But as his rose up into the sky, it dissolved into beautiful stars. The actual lanterns would begin to revolve around each other, as if locked in a gentle dance. Holding at the hand offered gently at first, it was then squeezed tighter. ".....and now...." he said in a melodic whisper. "It's our turn. To dance in that sky."

Before Kon knew it, Talthorn was pulling out and assembling a glider! The sails on it unfolding out before them as he assembled it with his magic words, the perks of being with a magi of course. He realized now what he meant by dancing in this sky as butterflies filled his stomach at the prospect of this. He didn’t know why, he’d flown many times in his life but this was just different, something... more! As he stepped forward to take position next to Talthorn and hold onto the glider’s bars with him, he’d see the magi produce a magic orb that was playing music just for this occasion! As always, when Talthorn wished to make an impression and impress someone he loved he held nothing back, and this was one of the reasons why he had grown to love him as much as he did. Every moment with him was an adventure, as much as it was a performance. While it was a bit too much for most everyone that knew him, it was anything but that for Konietzko who lived to embrace this extravagant side of the magi who took his breath away in such passionate moments like this!

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As the music played, they both ran off the edge together as they made their giant leap side by side!

Memory, all alone in the moonlight I can smile at the old days I was beautiful then I remember the time I knew what happiness was Let the memory live again

Daylight I must wait for the sunrise I must think of a new life And I mustn''t give in

When the dawn comes Tonight will be a memory too And a new day will begin

Memory, all alone in the moonlight I can smile at the old days I was beautiful then

As their flight came to an end and they touched down, both elves were entirely breathless from the experience itself and filled with laughter. Yet as they settled in to enjoy the end of their night together, a touching moment was shared in further remembrance of Ka’ness. In his own way, Kon helped Talthorn navigate his feelings and tried to teach him that it was alright to feel, to cry and to miss someone dearly while reliving the memory of days spent with them. After tears, smiles and some feelings were expressed yet another moment that was soon to be written in the stars as the elves made their stage to tread another measure in time together.

"I...think we need to get back to embracing this life a bit more hm..." Talthorn found his grin coming over his face. "Dance with here?" A soft call back to the orb was made as he whispered a song into it and looked to Koniezko. Just as Talthorn explained, their night was truly meant to be wrapped in song it seemed and yet neither of the star crossed lovers would discourage these events in the slightest. As Talthorn started to set up his stage on their blanket he pulled Kon to rise with him as he informed him something special. "I've got one more to share with you. I found it when we were first allowing ourselves to feel for each other, and sharing more. Indulge me? Let me dedicate another little piece of my ever burning heart for you." With smiles and laughter from both, they took their positions as the music began and both began to slowly sway wrapped in each others arms as the music started with a catchy beat! But then to Konietzko’s surprise this wasn’t just a dance but... a performance!

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Talthorn would beam happily and pull the other in close, the music would swirl around them as the orb moved to give them a beat. "Save my soul tonight, you could be my hope, my heart, my light...." he winked and moved a little with his beloved. "So let's not fear the fight. Things go wrong but we can get it right." the magi hugged at Kon's waist and continued to fill his ears with warm melody. "So I'll reach out to you. Take my hand and I will hold yours too. Pain will come it's true! Don't give up and we will make it through." There was a bit of breath that held in as the song picked up and the words become more filled with feeling! He adored this verse! "But when we look back and we see who are. And don't like what we find...can we still keep on trying? And fast will we run!" his hand flared a moment before coming back in to hold at the other's."... though the end feels so far. But brave be my soul...While the daylight is dying!"

With a happy smile and a little bit of a laugh from Kon’s heart's joy he stepped in close and started to move with Talthorn's lead. The fact he was singing to him while this occurred meant even more to him! Hearing Talthorn sing his heart out like that truly stole his breath as he swung about and returned back to him in their sway feeling the beat easily!

The magi continued to enjoy this song really getting into it with such an easy way to express himself now with no fear in how the other might feel on these words. "Wouldn't it be better if we hold on. Though everybody's gone. If we go down, we'll go down singing. And swinging to the ground. Wouldn't it be better if we hold on. Though everybody's gone. If we go down, we'll go down singing. And swinging to the ground." he made a few punching motions lightly down to the ground. As the next verse came he looked in Konietzko's eyes. "And when you learn to fly. Tell me how it feels to touch the sky. Then we'll travel back in time. And tell ourselves that everything is fiiiiiine." he sang this one with such warmth! "But when we look back and we see who are. And don't like what we find...can we still keep on trying? And fast will we run though the end feels so far. But brave be my soul. While the daylight is dying~"

The lyrics to the song were like it was written by Talthorn himself, but that was the beauty in music. It was always there to help one express what they felt in ways that a good dance and heartfelt cry into the sky could always fix. Kon laughed as he punched at the ground with him and then met his eyes once more as the lyrics he sang to him touched his heart and soul in ways Kon still could not believe but here it was happening all over again! His heartbeat pulsing so strong and true.

"Wouldn't it be better if we hold on. Though everybody's gone. If we go down, we'll go down singing. And swinging to the ground. Wouldn't it be better if we hold on. Though everybody's gone. If we go down, we'll go down singing. And swinging to the ground. Whoa oh oh oh oh." There was a sparkle in his eyes as he continued to dance and sing unable to hide even more emotion. "When your load increases. Fall into pieces. It’s alright I will hold you until it ceases." his head moved and then he began his heartfelt chant that he believed in here, so very much. "No pain no feeling. No hurt, no healing." he shook his finger to show he could appreciate this sort of sentiment. "If there are limits then we will break that ceiling. When your load increases. Fall into pieces. It’s alright I will hold you until it ceases. No pain no feeling. No hurt, no healing. If there are limits then we will break that ceiling."

Konietzko was getting more and more and more into this song as it went on. His heart danced with such joy hearing how Talthorn sang to him! For the two of them to go down singing! Breaking through the ceiling and holding on! He couldn't hold it in anymore as the chorus repeated he reached out to his hips to take ahold of them and tried to get him to dance with him even more! Twirling away and then back at him as he started to pick up on the chorus near the end chanting out the. 'O-oh-oh oh!" 's with him!

Talthorn would let that note float and full in feeling adoring the other singing with him! By the Moon it felt so good! The orb seemed to take that verse the magi was singing and for his love, he goes a bit off the cuff in letting his voice play with more notes and heartfelt parts of the song while he takes time to be dramatic and dance with Kon! "We'll go dooown. We'll go dooown." The notes would go in their octaves and then fade to ending.

As Talthorn truly sang his heart out there in the end Konietzko grabbed his hands tightly and pressed his body in against his as he gave one last slowed sway before bringing his lips in to press against his. He would then suddenly and quickly reach down to grab Talthorn by his hips and would attempt to raise him up just a little into the air as he would give them both one last twirl as he laughed and then drew him down to the ground and tightly into his arms. "-You ARE- my heart, my hope, my light in every way. And you are an -amazing- singer Talthorn! Oh my stars you should have seen yourself, heard yourself! It is -I- who needs to ask you how it feels to touch the sky! You are already there in every way." Look who was babbling now! Oh my it was contagious as they both spent the rest of the night lost in this measure of time together.

A @konietzko-lumenstone and @talthorn-sylvoran story and moment in time retold for our own memories to enjoy ♥

#Talthorn and Kon #Treading a Measure #Song and Dance #Go Down Singing #Memories #Memory #Performance #ka'ness #flight #fly #Stars #Stargazing

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hellzyeahwebwielingessays · 4 years

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Mayday IS NOT a Mary Sue!

I’ve heard this assertion before and it’s just bullshit.

To tackle this topic I’m going to crank the dial up to ‘Very difficult’ and strictly look at Mayday’s debut in What If…v2 #105. Were I to take her entire character history into consideration the accusation would crumble like wet paper.

Now, there is no absolute definitive definition of what a Mary Sue is, though there are broad overlaps between the definitions. Those overlaps really boil down to an over idealized character/female character (the male equivalent is Gary Stu or Marty Stu).

For the purposes of this discussion (and because this is what I’ve seen the accusations revolve around), the idea of her being a Mary Sue hinges upon three key points:

She is not flawed

Everyone likes her

And

She masters her powers/wins her first fight with no difficulty

Let’s tackle them each at a time.

She lacked personality flaws?

Well she seemed a bit of a hothead, rather melodramatic and arguably (because she planned on returning to action) deceitful at the very end of the story. She also considered herself a freak and was upset that her athletic accomplishments were the result of her powers not her own hard work. And of course her sense of self was radically rocked when she learned her father was Spider-Man.

Whilst not a personality flaw per se, a source of contention in her life was that she didn’t fit in neatly with any of the school cliques. She was smart enough to hang with the nerds but also athletic enough to hang out with the jocks and as a result was forced to choose between them. This in turn hurt her romantic prospects the boy she liked, Brad Miller.

This is integral to the story because through her alter ego Mayday can combine her intellect and athleticism and be her truest self.

Ah, but does this not then reinforce the accusation that everybody likes her? Poor Mayday. Her problem is too many people like her. Cry me a river right?

Well, hold on a minute. Why is the idea of people liking the character a mark of a Mary Sue in the first place? It can’t just be a realism issue as many characters can be celebrities or beloved public figures. Bruce Wayne (out of costume) and Wonder Woman are beloved by most of the general public. So is Thor, Captain America and arguably Tony Stark and ¾ of the Fantastic Four.

Obviously villains dislike them though. In this vein then Normie Osborn in What if v2 #105 would dispel the accusation. But let’s be honest, that’s a little cheap isn’t it? Obviously villains aren’t going to like the hero, they wouldn’t be effective villains if they did *glares at Kylo Ren*.

So why are those characters not regarded as Mary Sue’s then? Well, the simple answer would be that the general adoration from others isn’t really that big of a deal for most of those characters. The general public do not strictly speaking need to like the F4 (and in fact have vacillated in their opinion of them), they just need to be famous.

In contrast Spider-Man had a poor public reputation due to Jameson and this is regarded as a hallmark of the character. It’s such a hallmark that it made it into the first 2 movies and later in Spider-Girl the fact that she had a far better public image was highlighted more than once.

So what’s going on here?

Well basically a character is a Mary Sue when everybody loves them at it either serves no story purpose, or if it’s a cheap way of conveying how much the audience should love a character. Or if it makes the character’s lives easier without them putting any work into it.

To give you an example from anime Son Goku and Usagi Tskunio (from Dragon Ball and Sailor Moon respectively, two of the most popular anime ever) typically made friends easily and even converted enemies into allies more than once.

Does this make them Mary Sues?

No, because the people who became friends or allies didn’t just immediately or easily evolve into those roles. Work and effort was put into that by Goku and Usagi respectively. They endured pain or displayed bravery or sacrifice or put their hearts on the line to convince someone to bet better

Now, I’m not saying Mayday’s popularity came about through methods like that. We do not know how Mayday became as popular as she is, though we can easily infer it’s due to her athleticism, physical attractiveness and brains. She’d fit into multiple cliques in school so it’s not unbelievable that her company would be desired by them.

What ultimately disproves her as a Mary Sue in this regard though is that there is a price to pay for that popularity. She is forced to choose between the groups and thus undermine friendships with one group or another. And she can never fully be herself…until she becomes Spider-Girl that is.

Basically Mayday being popular doesn’t make her a Mary Sue because it comes at a personal cost. Her life would honestly be easier if she was just a jock or a nerd.

Of course the counterpoints to that are that it’s a pretty minor concern all things in the grand scheme of life. And if she brings those two halves together as Spider-Girl then she’s solved her problem hasn’t she?

Well for starters, not fitting in exactly with any one group, undermining one set of friendships due to servicing another, juggling those social circles?

That might be a piece of cake next to what Peter Parker dealt with in high school, but for many teenagers it is actually pretty important.

In much the same way that scale matters in super powered conflicts, scale matters in terms of emotional conflicts too. We might argue May has it easier than Peter, but Peter had it arguably easier than the X-Men, or the Silver Surfer or ben Grimm. This is why his romantic or financial struggles were as compelling as (if not more so than) those of the Avengers efforts to save the world.

Mayday is 15. She is growing up. She is still figuring out who she is. So yes, her place in the high school hierarchy (especially in 1990s America no less) and social situation would be important to her. And it is she who is ultimately our POV character.

As for the second point about the two halves of her lives, it’s true. Mayday’s emotional conflict of being pulled between two groups reconciles by the end of the story because she bridges the gap. But for starters, let’s remember Mayday was designed to be a done-on-one character with merely the possibility of a continuation. So reconciling her emotional conflict by the end of the story makes a lot of sense narratively. However, the reality is when she became an on-going character it really wasn’t a big deal.

This is because, whilst she bridged that gap as Spider-Girl, she can’t be Spider-Girl ALL the time!

She has to at some point take the mask off ad go to school and in that environment she still needs to juggle not seeming nerdy to the jocks but not seeming like a jock to the nerds. She would still need to sacrifice potential romance and team building experiences with the jocks or sacrifice arguably more substantial friendships she’s held since childhood.

Okay, so being liked by everyone in context doesn’t render Mayday a Mary Sue.

But surely we cannot defend her fighting prowess? In her first ever encounter with a villain, her first ever fight, her first ever use of the webshooters she won, and seemingly didn’t stumble.

How can this be defended? Isn’t that at least approaching Rey from the Star Wars sequels levels of unearned skill?

First of all, May should be graded on a curve for the simple reason that she wasn’t invented to be strictly speaking an on-going character. Her whole character arc might’ve begun and ended in What If v2 #105 so given the story, of course we weren’t going to see a training montage.

But even if you ignore that the accusation doesn’t really add up.

For starters it’s pretty obvious her opponent (unlike Rey’s rival, Kylo Ren) was not overly experienced. He seemed to know how to use the weapons in his possession but was clearly emotionally unstable seeing as he was beaten by such an obvious way.

May’s internal thoughts throughout the fight also make it clear she is mostly winging it. She isn’t fighting as effectively as an experienced Spider-Man against an experienced Goblin. She is mostly riding on instinct and her strategy, whilst ultimately effective, is also very rudimentary.

She spots Normie’s gloves are capable of an electrical discharge when she webbed up his hand.

She knows he uses pumpkin bombs because she saw one when he attacked her earlier; plus it’s likely someone just knows about such an infamous super villain.

So she waits for him to pull out a pumpkin bomb then webs up his hand again, hoping he’ll react by using his discharge and blowing himself up.

Amidst this she needles him to make him emotional and throw him off balance increasing the chances he’ll use his best weapon (the pumpkin bomb) and not think through his actions.

Let’s also consider she webs up the same hand twice, which would make Normie consider his reaction even less.

It’s a basic but it got the job done. Mayday wouldn’t have needed to be a genius or an experienced fighter to have come up with that plan.

But as it happens her parents are two people who between them have scientific acumen, strong social skills, a penchant for getting inside people’s heads or under their skin and are very quick witted and resourceful. It’s not really necessary for the story to spell out for us that Mayday could have inherited these traits and/or observed them in practice growing up.*

From a storytelling POV, because we the audience are familiar enough with Peter and MJ (even if you don’t know that many specific stories) that context is part of the subtext of the story. So Mayday possessing those essential skills isn’t a cheap ass pull or anything.

But what about her use of Peter’s powers? She didn’t stumble with them, not even once.

Well, putting aside how the narration makes it clear she’s riding by the skin of her teeth more than once, this is justified when we compare to Peter himself.

I know that in Spider-Man 2002 and Amazing Spider-man 2012 Peter practiced with his powers and did stumble a bit in his use of them. But those were live action movies that demand a certain greater degree of realism because we have actual human beings right in front of us. They were also made 4-14 years after What If v2 #105. Additionally, whilst Maguire and Garfield’s Peter’s did have to stumble a bit, the key phrase there is ‘a bit’.

They got the hang of their powers pretty quickly, with Maguire’s Peter trouncing Flash Thompson with ease.

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Garfield meanwhile defended himself from people in a tiny subway carriage practically by accident.

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Maguire’s Spidey got the hang of web swinging on his second try.

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For the original 616 Peter Parker, the situation was even easier. IIRC aside from one flashback story showcasing Peter accidentally failing to control his strength, Peter had a handle on all his abilities pretty quickly, including web-swinging. Very early into his career he held his own against four experienced heroes simultaneously. Specifically the Fantastic Four.

This was (in publication order) the first ever time Peter battled anyone with powers of their own. And remember, this event is 100% canonical to Spider-Girl’s universe. Her version of Peter Parker (her father) battled the F4 exactly this way.

Ah, but that was written in 1963. Standards weren’t as believable or grounded as they were circa 1998. Well, what about Ultimate Spider-Man from 2000? A series that was actually bucking trends because it was more grounded and realistic (allegedly)? In this universe Peter had his powers for a while before he first ever super villain battle and had dealt with some petty crooks before.

Nevertheless he too was very effective when he first fought Ultimate Green Goblin. Ultimate Goblin wasn’t great at critical thinking, but he was overwhelming stronger than Peter and more durable. And yet, Peter at the very least held his own in the fight.

So it seems spider powers don’t require much practice before you can use them in combat. You can at least avoid attacks, hold your own and grasp the basics of web-swinging pretty quickly.

When looking at the 616 version of Spider-Man’s (and by extension Spider-Girl’s) powers this makes a lot of sense.

To begin with wall-crawling was second nature to Peter in the 616 universe and Ultimate Universe.

More importantly the Spider Sense is a MASSIVE factor in Peter and Mayday’s respective fighting styles and was explicitly a factor in Mayday’s duel with Normie.

The Marvel wiki had this to say about Peter’s spider sense on his main page:

Spider-Sense: Spider-Man possesses a precognitive danger or "spider" sense which warns him of potential or immediate danger by the manifestation of a tingling sensation in the back of his skull, and links with his superhuman kinesthetics, enabling him to evade most any injuries, unless he cognitively overrides his automatic reflexes… Spider-Man's spider-sense is directional and can guide him to or away from hidden weapons and enemies. Sudden and extreme threats can cause his spider-sense to react with painful intensity. Spider-Man can also sense and dodge attacks directed randomly or by an artificial intelligence. Using his spider-sense to time his enhanced reflexes, Spider-Man can casually dodge attacks up to and including automatic-weapons fire, provided there is sufficient distance. His spider-sense is sufficiently well-linked to his reflexes to the point that a threat can trigger them even when Spider-Man is asleep or stunned.

This is further corroborated in ‘The Amazing Spider-Man: The Ultimate Guide Updated Edition’, written by Tom DeFalco, co-creator of What if v2 #105

Additionally, ASM #656 established that Peter’s Spider Sense helped him greatly when web-swinging by subconsciously guiding his aim towards safe anchor points.**

So Mayday’s proficiency with her newfound powers is actually not all that surprising. Her Spider-Sense actively compensated for her lack of experience. And if we look at her battle with Normie her predominant tactic is to just dodge and keep him distracted. The latter doesn’t really require training just some common sense and guts. The former is practically the wholesale function of the Spider-Sense in the first place.

Still don’t buy it?

Still think this is all a stretch?

Think that the Spider-Sense is just cheating?

Maybe you think dodging is one thing, but Mayday actively attacks Normie three times in the battle.

She saves herself from freefall and then transitions that into a strike against him.

She webbed up his hand accurate in the midst of the fight twice!

Her ability to do all that in her first fight, with no training, surely proves her for the Mary Sue she is.

Well here is something even I never considered until today…Mayday was already athletic before she gained her powers.

Mayday had won herself a spot on the Midtown High girls basketball team.

The story doesn’t say when this happened but her familiarity with the team and the popular kids not on the team heavily implies she’s been on the team for a while. She talks about possibly getting a shot at scholarship or going pro. This again implies basketball isn’t just a recent new hobby, that she’s been into it for a while; an idea confirmed in her on-going solo book. This is further alluded to when Mayday laments that she believed her athletic skills were the result of training, practice and hard work.

That line itself implies Mayday has in fact had her powers all along and been unwittingly been using them. This would mean that Mayday had been practicing on the court for many years, giving her a handle on her skills that she could bring to bear against Normie.***

However, earlier in the story Peter and MJ have a shocked reaction to Mayday’s slam dunk. Along with their dialogue this implies Mayday actually didn’t have any powers before the start of the story.

Regardless, if Mayday trained, practiced and worked hard as a basketball player (and was good enough to make the team) she’d have developed certain skills. Skills that would have been transferable to her duel with Normie.

She’d have developed hand-eye co-ordination. Hence her ability to aim her webs and strikes accurately.

She’d have developed an awareness of the physics of he body. As in what movements in relation to the situation would generate what result. Like for example when she transitioned her swing into a kick.

She’d have had a certain knowledge of basic physics, because she’d need the ball to go where she’d need it to go. As in if she pushes off left with her arms out she should travel X distance. If she curls up her body it will slow her down, etc.

She’d have developed muscle memory and been able to move on instinct. Hence she could still be great at dodging even without her powers.

She would’ve known how to observe terrain and her opponents. E.g. she knew how to use the bridge’s shape to create a pendulum motion and kick Normie. And she knew observed his electrical discharge attack and pumpkin bombs.

She would’ve learned how to use the terrain and her opponents’ strengths and weaknesses to her advantage. Hence she, you know…won the fight.

And she would’ve known how to perform under pressure. She wasn’t thrown off by her powers or Normie’s almost lethal attacks.

All of these factors would’ve served her incredibly well in her fight.

When taken all together NO.

Mayday Parker is not, and was never, a Mary Sue.

*Mayday’s scientific knowledge would also have served her very well in being able to figure out the right way to move in the battle. For example when she broke her freefall and turned the swing into an attack.

**We might also speculate it was the Spider-Sense that guided Mayday in how to use trigger the web-shooters through the double-tap mentioned in the story.

Although frankly Spider-Man being such a famous and well documented hero the general public have probably seen him shoot a web and thus know about his famous hand gesture. So Mayday, being intelligent (let alone scientifically clever like her Dad) probably deduced how to activate the web-shooters.

***Not to mention, the scene demonstrates Mayday testing out her powers. So she didn’t walk into battle with Normie completely unaware of what she might be capable of.

#Spider-Girl #Mayday Parker #May Parker #Spider-Man #MC2 #MC2 Universe #Peter Parker #Tom DeFalco #Spider-Man 2002 #The Amazing Spider-Man 2012 #tobey maguire #andrew garfield #ultimate spider-man

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kogo-dogo · 4 years

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I looked at your favorite character top 5 thing and there's the one character you said was your ''problematic fave''. And I've heard of that game before because I saw somebody play it on Youtube once, I think the second one, and I was just curious about the character. Torque?? Because it seems like such a bad game and he didn't seem to have much personality but you seem very attacked so I was wondering if maybe it was worth looking into the series or something. I like old games.

I am so sorry that I said a week ago I’d answer this, Anon. I have so many thoughts about this probably-actually-one-dimensional character because I’ve had sixteen years to pick apart every scrap of info that exists about him. And overanalysis of fictional men is, at this point, my primary hobby.

First of all… eh. I won’t say to definitively not look into the series, but I would encourage you not look into the series. It’s one of those things that’s aged like an open bottle of two-buck chuck and I can tell you right now that it wouldn’t be as palatable in 2020 as it was in 2004. As much as I love Prison is Hell (the first game) and as much as I get what they were trying to do, they messed a lot of things up and it wouldn’t translate well to modern times. This is especially true for Ties That Bind. Oh my god, do NOT play Ties That Bind if you’re easily offended.

It’s fascinating to pick apart, though, even if it seems extremely basic on the surface level, and part of the reason I like Torque so much is because he’s a very interesting character to crack open and inspect. I know he probably Isn’t That Deep, but he’s interesting, figuring him out is a puzzle because of the way storytelling is carried out, and if he’d been handled better, would probably still be remembered beyond “quiet dude in a game Youtubers occasionally play on Halloween.” He’s really an unfortunate casualty of that era of gaming. It’s surprising he was handled with any dignity at all.

Spoilers are to follow, but it’s for the best. Now you don’t have to play the game.

First, a disclaimer: The Suffering games do work on a morality system, where you can get good or bad endings based on how you treat other people. The game is heavily designed to favor the good ending, and most people I’ve spoken to have agreed the good endings are likely canonical considering how much you’d miss while playing neutral/evil. So, we’re going with the “Good Aligned Torque is Canon” angle.

Okay. Now.

- Who is Torque?

This guy.

Torque is, in essence, what happens when you take every tired trope of a horror movie villain and flip it around on its head. He’s a severely mentally ill inmate convicted of murder (while it’s never outright stated what mental illnesses he has, it’s pretty obviously a mixture of DID and schizophrenia), he never speaks (at least not in the present; he does have scant dialogue in flashbacks in the second game; it amounts to maybe eight words total), and he is… freakishly strong. Beyond that, there’s very heavy evidence that he’s somehow supernaturally inclined.

The difference is that, instead of being presented as the villain, he’s the hero. He’s not just the hero, he’s basically one of the very few competent people in the games. Nobody treats him any different than they would anyone else, the game doesn’t go out of its way to underline that he’s some kind of “monster,” and even when the most monstrous of his alters presents itself (The Creature, who we’ll discuss later), people are just kind of like, “Oh, well that was different” and then move on with their lives.

He is a character who could very easily take the place of Jason Voorhees, and instead of being given a machete and told to kill everyone he comes across, he’s given a fire ax and a voice in his head that tells him to take care to think about how much other people are struggling and that maybe, being that he is probably stronger than them, he should put forth the effort to get them someplace safe.

- Okay, but, like… WHO is he? Character-wise?

If you want his backstory, it’s actually one of the best parts about him and one of the few things that Ties That Bind expands upon correctly. To summarize, he’s a victim of the state that fell through the cracks, pieced his life back together, and then ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

To be more long-winded: He was a troubled child with psychiatric problems who lost both of his parents in a car accident. With no living relatives beyond his parents, he was placed into the Garvey Children’s Home, where the conditions were less than ideal. A mixture of strain, trauma, loneliness, and desperation prompted his brain to divide up into three: himself, Blackmore, and The Creature. Then, left to navigate life and his own mental health on his own, he ended up falling in with some very bad crowds.

He became a drug dealer. He got in a lot of altercations. He was in and out of prison. This only stopped when he met his wife and became a family man, and began to consciously put forth the effort to right himself. He had two sons, had everything under control… and then ended up in prison again when the guy he used to work for on the streets hired a man to come pay him a visit at his friend’s bar and press every last one of his buttons until he snapped. He wound up in prison, his wife divorced him, and everyone assumed he’d end up back to his old tricks.

Except… he didn’t go back to being a drug dealer. He got a job at a gym instead. He stayed on the right track. He started reconciling with his ex-wife who, right before the events of the first game, moved back in with him.

This didn’t sit well with the men Torque used to run with, especially not the guy he used to work for… so a hit was ordered on him and his family. He wasn’t home when it was carried out. He walked in, found his wife and kids dead, and passed out in his apartment from the shock, where the police found him after receiving a tip.

He was bloody. He was disoriented. He was known to be a repeat offender. They pinned the whole thing on him and, after a very unfair trial, he was sentenced to death.

The first day he arrives in prison--located on scenic Carnate Island--the ground opens up and monsters begin sweeping over the land. Convenient.

- Wait, this bitch has alters?

Yeah. This… isn’t really a part of the game that’s handled well, but it’s interesting. There’s a lot of weirdness going on with Torque (remember that supernatural bend I mentioned?), and one of the two is… well, I’m not sure he’s an alter at all.

First, there’s Torque himself who is just a short-tempered, easily frustrated, but generally reasonable guy who really just wanted to keep his head above water. Secondly, there’s The Creature, a defense mechanism and literal monster that is incapable of communication and rears its head whenever he feels threatened. Physically threatened, generally, which resulted in The Creature being a bit violent. Torque has a pretty extensive arrest record and most of his arrests seem to revolve around “punched a guy at an inopportune time.”

Blackmore is more complicated, because he isn’t really clear. You see, there’s a snippet of dialogue in the second game and a lot of environmental storytelling that indicates that Torque is supernaturally gifted somehow (something he likely inherited from his mother), and that some of his mental illnesses are actually paranormal interference. Blackmore is the biggest gray area, because while he is presented as an alter, he… very much defies that.

He’s presented as a presence that Torque experiences externally and that only he can see (not really uncommon; Torque hallucinates pretty frequently throughout the game), but he also seems to be aware and consciously trying to control Torque. When that fails, he settles for trying to find a way to take over Torque’s body permanently. He’s capable of actually getting in physical altercations with Torque, but at the same time can hijack his body to do things he wouldn’t normally be able to do. He honestly smacks more of something Torque is possessed by instead of something his brain came up with itself, made all the more obvious by the fact that the final battle in the second game is literally Torque and Blackmore beating the everloving hell out of each other after Torque consciously realizes that nobody can perceive Blackmore but him.

But at the same time, that guy that Torque worked for that ordered the hit on his family? That’s Blackmore. There’s a lot of talk about how nobody has ever seen Blackmore (indicating he only communicated via writing or phone or what have you), and it’s all… very, very stupid. It’s one of those things in TTB that made me throw up my hands and go, “Well, sure. Okay. Let’s just do that, then. That makes perfect sense thanks.”

(I do not like most of Ties That Bind.)

- Okay, so he’s supernatural somehow?

Mm-hm. Again, it’s never explicitly stated, but heavily implied through some dialogue from my second favorite character in the game (DR. Q.L. KILLJOY, MOTHERFUCKER) and just the way the story plays out.

Carnate Island erupts with a bad case of monsters the second Torque sets foot on the island. A prologue you unlock after you beat the game once reveals that Torque actually hallucinated the first game’s end boss before he even saw it, indicating he has some precognitive abilities. The sentient spirits of both games know who Torque is and take a special interest in him, and plenty make allusions that they’re “more alike” than he thinks. Blackmore is very clearly paranormal in origin and seems to even be able to command the monsters in some way.

Hell, Dr. Killjoy even implies at the end of the first game that Torque is somehow making all of this happen and, only by tackling the root of his problems, can he make everything stop.

While there’s never been an active fandom for this game, I used to associate with a small group of fans, and there was actually a lot of discussion/disagreements about whether Torque actually had any form of psychosis or if maybe he had latent psychic abilities he couldn’t control. Seeing things all the time, causing things to accidentally happen that nobody would believe; it’d be easy to be chalked up with a disorder when there’s no way to know or prove what you’re experiencing is Real Shit.

- Why do you hate Ties That Bind so much?

Because of the way it improperly handles a bunch of mental health stuff that the first game wisely didn’t actually touch on much beyond acknowledging the fact that This Guy Are Sick.

Prison is Hell makes it very evident that Torque has psychiatric problems but never dwells on it overmuch. There’s even an entire chapter of the game that takes place in an old asylum with an early 1900s alienist ghost (DR. KILLJOY) trying to diagnose and “treat” Torque, and it still is mostly hinged on the horrors of old-timey treatment of mentally ill patients than anything about Torque. That and Dr. Killjoy’s misguided good intent (that dude deserves a whole essay of his own, to be honest).

Instead of hammering it home that he has Issues and deciding to talk too much about Issues, it just treats Torque like a human being. Your main goal is getting off the island and saving stragglers along the way, all of which react to Torque just the same way they would to anyone. COs will either be authoritative or condescending. Fellow inmates will be suspicious but more likely to work with him. Everyone is always gracious for his help, and nobody makes any odd remarks about anything weird he does (barring when The Creature shows up; then, they just remark on, “DUDE HOW IN THE FUCK?” because you find out, later on, that all they see is Torque getting in fist fights with things twice his size and winning).

Torque is just Torque. He just do what Torque do.

Ties That Bind then goes barreling into a bunch of tired tropes and tries to make a convoluted twist ending, and then there’s the whole matter of the secret underground organization that wants to capture Torque and have been working with Blackmore and you end up fighting a helicopter and some SWAT-looking motherfuckers and… they try so much harder to be edgy and gritty and it’s really fucking stupid.

The only good things you get out of it are some further snippets into Torque’s backstory (appreciated), the return of Dr. Q.L. Killjoy (always welcome), and a set of monsters known as Gorgers (they make purr-gle sounds when they eat and I love them).

Oh, and Consuela. She is mentioned in the first game and actually shows up in the second, and I can respect any woman who gets captured by an evil paramilitary organization and, immediately upon being rescued, takes the biggest gun she can find, looks you dead in the eye, and says, “I’m going to steal a fucking boat, drive it straight into a warzone, and rescue my goddamn husband. You with me or not?”

She is literally some female parallel to Torque and my headcanon is they are bros.

- Anything else?

Yeah. The soundtrack for the game is pretty awesome and ended up inspiring some other music in a couple of other video games of the time (Mortal Kombat: Armageddon immediately comes to mind). They actually rigged up some pretty cool contraptions to make unique sounds and ambience using shit like scrap metal and garbage, and the results are pretty fucking cool.

Favorites of mine are the boss themes for Hermes, and Dr. Killjoy, with Dr. Killjoy’s being my absolute favorite of all of them. The main theme of the game is pretty great, too, and is probably the most iconic of all of the songs on the OST. I’ve even heard it used in stuff where I doubt people knew what the hell The Suffering was, lol.

#i've been working on this off and on for a week #because i totally don't care too much about characters nobody else cares about #seems suiting to post it now on Halloween #considering he's a horror game character

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dreamonhunters · 4 years

Text

and i can tell just what you want, you don’t want to be alone

no trigger warnings!

my half of a trade with the legendary @fakenewsies ! dylan i literally love you with all my heart and i really hope you enjoy angsty yearning new misfits redfinch because i sure do!

read it here on ao3!

The room is silent, aside from the sound of someone clicking away at a keyboard. Finch likes to work in the dark. There’s a soft turquoise glow beneath his hands, occasionally blocked out by his fingers flashing across the keys. Artificial light from his monitor acts as a primary light source. Albert always scolds him, tells him he’ll strain his eyes. End his own career before he hits twenty-one. Finch ignores him.

“Hey, asshole. It’s 2am. Go to bed,” a bleary voice mumbles from somewhere behind him. Finch lifts his head just a little, enough to indicate he heard. He doesn’t reward his visitor with any kind of verbal response. Maybe if he stays quiet, the other boy will drop it and go back to bed.

Instead, there’s a quiet sigh from behind him. Footsteps. The chair next to him is now occupied by a taller boy, ginger hair gleaming dully in the blue light. His whiskey-coloured eyes flicker over Finch’s work in vague interest, but they both know he doesn’t understand the lines of code covering the screen.

“Go to bed,” Finch murmurs, eyes flicking between his screen and Albert’s face.

The screen illuminates the high points of his face, making those sharp cheekbones seem all the more dangerous. Albert’s eyes linger for just a little too long.

“Ain’t that what I just told you to do?” he teases, although there’s no real heat in his voice. If you listen close enough, there’s maybe a note of concern.

Finch doesn’t know why Albert acts surprised. He doesn’t sleep at night. It’s the most productive time of day. That’s something he’ll maintain until the end of time and nobody could convince him otherwise. No distractions, aside from the one sitting beside him right now.

“I got work to do,” Finch answers simply, taking another sip from the can beside him. One of those ridiculous energy drinks Albert got him hooked on. If they didn’t help him work so well, he might find it within him to be annoyed. “You gonna sit there all night?”

Albert yawns, stretches his arms about above his head. Shifts in the chair. That trademark smirk curls his lips upwards. “Sure,” he answers. “Why not?”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” he tries again. He’s not really trying to get rid of Albert. Not properly. There are much more effective methods for getting people out of his workspace, and those often involve the pistol strapped to his hip. Finch doesn’t take interruptions very well.

“I do. But I don’t have anything important planned. You know how it is,” Albert supplies. Drawls a little on the word important. “So I can afford to stay up a little.”

With a heavy sigh, Finch finally turns away from his work. He doesn’t shut off the computer just yet. Keeping up the pretence Albert is actually going to leave is another thing Finch won’t address. But it’s impossible to concentrate with the boy by his side, and he knows Albert won’t let him anyway.

“Fine. Whaddya want, idiot?” Finch relents, although his tone lacks any venom.

“You,” Albert answers, simple and quiet.

They play this game every day. Albert disrupts Finch’s work, that intention is clear as day, but they don’t really talk. Albert has a million people he can go to for a quick chat, and Finch isn’t one of them. Never will be one of them. There’s a little exchange back and forth, and Finch is kissing Albert, biting him, and Albert just grins against his lips. Takes whatever he can get. The next day, it’s the same. Nothing ever happened. Just part of their daily routines, a rite of passage they can’t rid themselves of. Finch can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it.

“That’s what you always say,” he snarks back, rolling his eyes. No fun if he doesn’t put up a fight, Finch always says.

If Albert hears him, he doesn’t grace that comment with a response. Instead he changes the subject, the ghost of a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“You remember when we met?”

Of course he does. How Finch could forget is a better question. But he can’t answer too quickly, because then Albert will know he thinks about him, and that ruins the whole illusion. So the resulting silence is prolonged, while Finch pretends to mull over the finer details.

Albert’s been part of the New Misfits movement far longer than Finch — sometimes he jokes about being born into it, having no other choice in life. His father has been Head Engineer since before the boy can remember. It only makes sense for his son to follow in his footsteps, and be handed a job as soon as he’s capable of building the required tech.

Finch, however, didn’t really know about the movement until he turned eighteen. Every child in Eastgate is fed the regulated propaganda throughout their school lives, even though Finch has always been just a little suspicious of how the most impoverished city in the country was now home to the most cutting-edge technology. Something is just a little too good to be true. There’s an ulterior motive somewhere.

Nobody questions it, though. To go against Cyber Mind Corporations is essentially treason.

Some kids get lucky, though. The job of the New Misfits’ recruiters is simple — shatter the rose-tinted glasses placed over their eyes, and hit the youngest, most impressionable members of society with a large dose of reality.

Finch feels like he cut himself on the glass. To this day, he credits a certain Jack Kelly with saving his life. The young boy makes him understand, promises him something better. Cyber Mind’s need for totalitarian control leaves no room for individuality — or even free thought. It was mind control, Jack tells him, and Finch can’t find a reason to argue back. The evidence is damning.

He accepts the invitation in a heartbeat.

When he first arrives, Jack explains something about moving him into a new building. State-of-the-art, completed shortly before Finch’s arrival. He isn’t really listening, though. He doesn’t care, truthfully, so long as he has somewhere quiet to work, as promised.

Albert more or less stumbles into his life three days later.

Originally, the young technician is sent over to help fix up his office. Someone else called out sick, and Albert’s the only person available. Other excuses in that vein. As ever, he doesn’t really listen to the string of apologies and explanations. Patience is a virtue that simply evades Finch. If it were up to him, this would have been done days before.

Even despite his best efforts to ignore it, Finch is drawn to him. He’s like a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else he’s met. Bright ginger hair, eyes that sparkle when he laughs, broad shoulders. Finch wants to hate him. Wants to slap that stupid smile off his face. He also wants to know how those hands would feel wrapped around his neck, just a little too much pressure. Albert works quickly, a cheeky grin plastered across his face as he cracks the occasional joke with enthusiasm you couldn’t possibly fake. He really isn’t the type of person Finch actively seeks out, and yet it’s simply impossible to deny the connection when you first encounter your soulmate.

(If you believe in soulmates, that is. Finch doesn’t.)

That’s how Finch eventually finds himself here, curled in an oversized chair with multiple brightly-lit monitors surrounding him, and the sound of another person breathing beside him. It’s quiet, almost serene, and he likes it that way.

Gradually, hushed conversations turn into fleeting touches and stolen kisses. They both pretend like they don’t want it, they’re not interested, they don’t need it, but there’s something addictive in the way their bodies press together in a darkened room. Albert’s lips are always slightly chapped as he kisses Finch. Strong hands on his waist. Warm. Inviting. He stays up through the night just to be beside the hacker. Finch can never bring himself to make Albert leave.

Most nights, they simply lay beside each other. Albert’s arm drapes lazily over Finch’s torso, tracing nonsensical patterns across pale skin. There’s a strange intimacy in simply lying beside someone, feeling the rise and fall of their chest. The sound of his heartbeat softly thudding when Finch lays his head down on his sternum. Albert’s fingertips are just a little calloused.

Sometimes Albert takes him apart, however he damn wants, while Finch whispers his name over and over like some sacred mantra. Funny, because Finch never really saw the point in religion. The boy above him could be one, though. Those nights are few and far between, nothing more than a carnal need, and the next day it’s almost forgotten. Almost. Those events are eternally emblazoned into both boy’s memories. Dark marks on Finch’s hips and shoulders and neck serve as a more visual reminder. There are some things you just don’t forget.

More often than not, they just sleep. Pure and simple as that. Finch wakes up the following afternoon alone, but that suits him just fine. Albert has his own life. The world doesn’t revolve around Finch.

Finch wouldn’t say he’s in love. Love is too complicated for such a simple arrangement. Words like that have a tendency to ruin. He just enjoys having Albert around. Maybe that’s the answer he finds himself searching for when he rolls onto the cold side of the bed in the afternoon sunlight. Thinking too hard makes his head hurt.

On that note, he’s been thinking too long. He should answer Albert’s question.

“Yeah. I do.”

There’s a smile on Albert’s face when Finch finally refocuses. Familiar. “I’m glad.”

Finch snorts. “You’re fucking weird.”

“Just the way you like me,” he answers. Always has a quick remark resting on the tip of his tongue.

“Who said I like you?” Finch challenges, bringing his long legs up to cross them beneath him. He considers switching the monitor off. No, not yet — that would fuel Albert’s ego just a little too much.

Albert just smiles. The fondness travels right to those damn eyes, the colour of honeyed whiskey when the light hits them just right. “Call it a sixth sense,” he replies. Finch can’t decide if he wants to slap him or kiss him.

Finch settles for rolling his eyes, shifting again to get comfortable. “What made you ask that?”

“Been two years today since you got here,” Albert explains. “Thought we should celebrate.”

Two years? Had it really been that long? Finch doesn’t bother to keep track of things like that. Anniversaries are far too sentimental. They’ll ruin a perfectly good day when those events inevitably become twisted by trauma.

“Damn,” he laughs, although the small smirk twisting his lips upwards betrays him. “Didn’t think I'd last that long.”

“You shut up,” Albert groans, reaching out to swat Finch’s hand away from the keyboard. Maybe he’ll stop working. “Shut the fuck up. Such a fuckin’ attention whore.”

“Any excuse to call me a whore,” Finch answers breezily, finally leaning forward to shut off the monitor. A silent invitation. He’s grown bored of the small talk, in that way he so often does. The sudden darkness makes Finch’s breath catch in his throat.

It’s practically pitch black, aside from a few coloured lights that glow dimly, to indicate the machines surrounding them still work as they should. Not quite enough to see properly, mind. He hears shifting from beside him.

Albert’s hand comes to rest on his hip, pulling Finch closer. “C’mere,” he breathes, and Finch doesn’t resist. He lets Albert guide him into his lap, those calloused hands on his body, straddling his waist. Lips press hard against his own, and suddenly Finch can’t focus on anything but the way Albert grips his waist, how their lips slot together messily.

“Mm, Al,” he mumbles, pulling away slightly. Their foreheads rest together, and Finch’s eyes glisten with something incomprehensible in the low light.

“Yeah?” Albert whispers. His lips ghost over Finch’s again. It takes everything not to pull him back in again, kiss him with a desperate passion that burns somewhere deep within Finch. He likes keeping Albert at an arm’s length, always on his toes. Doing that would only provide him with the answers to questions Finch would never hear.

So instead he rests his head on Albert’s shoulder, face tilted slightly so he can mouth at the boy’s throat. Normally he’ll bite, sink his teeth in until he can taste the first hint of blood on his tongue. Likes the way Albert’s skin tastes. Albert groans, and Finch feels the vibrations in his throat. Feels good. Brings him back to the reality of the situation. It’s the only answer he’ll provide, because he doesn’t want to think up a verbal response.

“We should head to bed,” Albert suggests, although any sense of urgency is lacking. They’re both happy to remain here a little longer.

“Whatever you want.” Finch replies sleepily, nipping at the column of Albert’s neck. He makes no movement to leave, and Albert doesn’t seem inclined to, either.

The silence drags on a little longer, and he listens to Albert’s heartbeat. Feels the way he breathes, how his fingers instinctively trace the sharp ridges of Finch’s spine. Neither boy moves.

“Do you love me?”

That question startles Finch, although he doesn’t make it obvious. If Albert was paying enough attention, he might notice the way Finch’s breath seems to falter a little. It’s unlikely he would.

“I dunno. Love’s weird.”

It’s not the answer Albert wants, but it’s the answer he’s getting. This is not the time for soul-searching, or trying to find answers Finch isn’t sure he wants to hear. Love is complex and messy and ends in flames. He’s never seen the point in labels.

Albert hides his reaction well. Doesn’t even flinch. Honestly, it’s almost impressive.

“Is that a no, then?” he asks, and if he’s trying to cover the hurt in his voice it’s slightly less successful.

“Did I say that?” Finch responds. No, he didn’t. “I said I don’t know. Not really an easy question, is it?”

“S’ppose not.”

The silence isn’t awkward, but it’s not as comfortable as usual. Finch shifts a little, loosens his grip around Albert’s neck. He doesn’t pull away completely, because that would send all the wrong messages, but he raises his head enough to meet those irritatingly beautiful eyes.

“Are you mad?” Finch asks, after just a few moments too long. The question lacks any kind of concern, because he can work that answer out for himself.

Albert hesitates. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because you’re in love with me.”

“I never said that.”

“Love is stupid.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

Finch laughs, and pulls himself upright. Slots their lips together. It’s not love, it never has been, but it’s something close. Albert reciprocates, because he always does.

“Don’t love me,” Finch whispers. “There are better ways to waste your time.”

Albert smirks, spotting the challenge in Finch’s eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself too much. That ego’s gettin’ too big for you.”

And just like that, the moment is gone. Albert blinks, and the weight on his lap vanishes. Finch stands right in front of him, a cocky smirk playing at his lips. Albert could kill him.

“Bedtime,” he instructs, the lilting quality of his voice akin to laughter. Finch doesn’t laugh very often. It’s the best Albert can get. “Don't want you oversleeping tomorrow.”

When Finch decides to play difficult, Albert surrenders. It’s the one battle he can’t win. So he relents, gets to his feet. Sitting in the same position for so long only rewards him with cramped muscles. Absently, he wonders how Finch copes. He stretches.

“Who’s place?” he asks. Finch doesn’t bother looking over his shoulder, already thumbing through a colourful keychain for his room key. It’s a slim plastic keycard, black with turquoise trim, the most easily distinguishable key on the whole keychain. Honestly, he’s fiddling with the keys to waste time.

“Mine’s closer.” Finch says. Albert doesn’t say anything, just follows close behind. Part of him wants to put his hands on Finch’s hips and draw the boy back, nipping at the nape of his neck. Biting. See what sounds he can draw from him.

But he doesn’t. He lets Finch walk away, and for a few moments he just stands there. Watches. That boy is a force to be reckoned with, in more ways than one. Albert loves that.

“You just gonna stand there?” he challenges, glancing over his shoulder to smirk at Albert with a cocky glint in his eyes. He’s got the upper hand now, and he knows it. That’s the thing with them. It’s like a constant power struggle, although nobody ever truly puts up a fight. Maybe it’s more like an involuntary exchange of power.

Albert just smiles back at him, no teeth, and lets Finch lead him into the darkened corridor. Most people would be asleep by now. Normal people would be asleep by now. In fact, they’re probably the only people still awake in this area of the complex. It’s nice.

Finch’s apartment is close to his office, located just round the corner towards the right wing of the building. Their hands brush against each other every so often as they walk, shoulders bumping together playfully. Albert doesn’t talk, and Finch has nothing to respond to. The silence is comfortable.

“Hey,” Albert murmurs, as Finch slides the card into the reader. It buzzes softly, and the lock clicks open.

Finch hums his acknowledgement, hitting a switch by the door as he enters and letting the bright, artificial lights sting his eyes. Takes a moment to adjust. It’s a small apartment, really — every member’s quarters were designed to accommodate their every living need, and little more than that. He’s not a man of material things, though, and minimalism suits him just fine.

Albert lets the door close behind them, automatic lock sliding into place. Listens to the little click. He didn’t expect a verbal answer, really. So he continues, “Are you happy here?”

“Loaded question,” Finch murmurs, keys clattering onto plastic as he passes a side table. Dark eyes are now fixating entirely on the neon cityscape visible through the obnoxiously large windows dominating the outer wall of his apartment. He won’t look at Albert. “Define ‘happy’.”

“Okay.” Albert smirks, leaning against the nearest wall. He observes the way Finch’s eyes flicker from building to building, taking in the lights. Eastgate always looks prettier by night. “Fulfilled, I guess. Like you’re doin’ something useful.”

Finch seems to consider those words, then nods slowly. His eyes never leave the window. He misses the stars, bleached out by the brightness of the city below. “It’s pretty obvious we’re doing something useful. Isn’t this whole thing about freeing people?”

“Well, yeah, that’s the whole point, but you’re…” he trails off, searches for the right words. “...difficult to read.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Finch mutters, but he does. Vulnerability is a weakness. So he builds his walls high and answers everything with the same set of generic responses, and it keeps people off his back. They can think what they like of him, truthfully, because Finch doesn’t care. Opinions get you shot.

Albert lets out a soft sigh, resignation colouring the sound. If Finch doesn’t want to talk, he won’t. There’s no way around that. “We should sleep,” he suggests, completely changing tack.

Finch doesn’t respond until a pair of arms wrap around his middle, the weight on his shoulder familiar as Albert rests his head there. It’s almost enough to tear his eyes away from the world outside. He leans into that familiar touch, exhales slowly. Albert’s chest is warm against his back.

“Do you trust me?” Albert asks.

In another time, maybe trust is a substitute for love. Finch isn’t too sure. There’s a strange feeling in his chest, a dull ache but a bright warmth at the same time. It’s only ever present when Albert is there, but Finch could never tell him. He doesn’t admit to things like that, not when there’s no good reason to.

“Almost.”

It’ll do, for now. It’s been two years, and still Finch hasn’t let his guard down entirely. He’s not sure why Albert’s surprised.

“Alright.”

And then the moment is gone, and Finch changes the topic with practised ease. “Come to bed,” he murmurs, hand slipping easily into Albert’s. It’s almost unfair how well their hands fit together. He wishes he didn’t like it so much.

He lets the smaller boy lead him to the bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head as he does so. Finch does the same, and when Albert turns around there’s a pair of lips pressing hard against his own. Thinly veiled desperation. Hands fall to grip his waist, and Finch’s arms loop around Albert’s shoulders.

When they break apart, Finch’s eyes are shiny and his lips are swollen. “I don’t love you, y’know,” he whispers, and Albert drops his head to nip at the column of his neck.

“I know,” Albert breathes, hot breath ghosting against his skin. “I don’t care.”

A soft, short laugh escapes Finch, and he lets Albert push him down onto the bed. He can taste skin between his teeth, the slight saltiness of sweat. Strong arms tangle around his slim waist, teeth painting dark stains across pale flesh. Albert holds him tight, the way he always does, and Finch feels a strange sense of completion.

It’s not long after that he falls asleep, head resting on Albert’s chest and one of the boy’s strong arms wrapped tight around his waist. The gentle thud of a heartbeat, the sound of somebody breathing, the occasional rustling of movement in his sleep.

Strangely intimate.

When Finch wakes up, the afternoon sunlight is streaming through the cracks beneath his door. He never closed the blinds. With a yawn, he rolls over, onto the cold side of the bed. He’s alone again.

#rayray writes #my writing #rayray trades #newsies #new misfits au #redfinch #albert dasilva #albert newsies #finch cortes #finch newsies #hurt/comfort #friends tag

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