#sometimes i wonder what the bullet points must look like without context

[justawritterwithideas]

Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

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summary: Things start to get a little tense when Y/N and Spencer have to come face to face to find the person who wants to hurt her, but a clue leads to the total breakdown of everything.

general warnings: this series contains topics such as mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers.

chapter warnings: this chapter contains strong language, confrontations, mentions of murder, among other similar things. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

words: 4,380 words.

a/n: hi guys, after days there's finally a new chapter of boy wonder and the rockstar, yay. sorry for the delay but it's been weeks without creativity, but finally i can upload a decent chapter. sorry if it's a bit (too) dramatic, but put yourselves in y/n's shoes, ok? this chapter has strong confrontations and a little bit of plot change, but don't worry, in the next chapter everything will calm down, trust me. thanks in advance for the love and also for the support for the previous chapters, see ya!

𝟎.𝟑: 𝐒𝐒𝐀 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧.

Sometimes, our mind plays tricks on us, like remembering those embarrassing moments in life, but not remembering the formula to do an equation; remembering what that person told you and that marked you forever, but not remembering what your mother asked you to do.

Sometimes, also, destiny plays tricks on us.

Those times when you ask, please, that the earth swallow you up and spit you out anywhere else but there, that it take you to the deepest part of the planet and disappear until everyone forgets you exist.

I think that concept was the exact way to describe what Y/N and Spencer were experiencing after coming face to face, after 15 years.

On the one hand, the astonishment of the girl's friends and on the other, the confusion of the boy's friends.

Face to face, facing the reunion and the various emotions they experienced from head to toe.

"Reid, do you two know each other?" Emily's voice made them both turn in her direction, but Spencer without even being able to bring himself to answer, the words were snatched from his mouth and taken up by the opposite.

"It's not something I'm interested in being honest, but us knowing each other doesn't affect the investigation, does it?"

Bang, first bullet.

"No, it doesn't affect."

Spencer glanced in the blonde's direction, crossing glances again for the second time that day.

That warm look she always gave him when they met had become the iciest anyone had ever given him.

Bang, second bullet.

"Miss Autumn... Or Y/N?"

"I'm both, I don't mind being called one way or the other." The girl looked in the direction of the group of people, who were watching her trying to decipher where she and the tall one knew each other from. To divert attention, she changed the subject. "Please sit down, I feel a little embarrassed that you are up and we are sitting down." Commented the girl.

The group of people settled around the four individuals seated on the large couch.

But Spencer's eyes did not move from the girl, who stirred uneasily in her seat.

Y/N was more nervous about the presence of the man she hadn't seen in years than about what had just happened a couple of hours ago.

Her hands were shaking, her heart was pounding in the bottom of her chest, she was out of breath and her mouth felt dry, as if she had run a marathon.

She knew that at some point she would meet that boy, the thing is she didn't think it would be so soon. The situation they were in wasn't the best, and even less so with the context behind it, but clearly fate didn't care what was happening and made them meet despite Y/N's prayers not to meet the one-who-must-not-be-named again.

Spencer looked more mature, even though he was always mature for his age. She remembered that he used to do the fee slip for some older friends that Y/N used to have, plus he knew how to think maturely regarding his decisions; not like her, who chose her hair color based on which box of dye was cheapest in the market, but Spencer always said she looked good in any color.

"Miss Y/N." The woman's lost gaze went in the direction of the blonde girl speaking to her, blinking quickly to focus.

"Yes? Sorry, I was just thinking..." Her gaze went from side to side, noting that they were expectant of her answer. "Excuse me, what was the question?"

A sigh came out of Tyler's mouth, who was leaning against the back of the couch. One thing the guitarist hated was the police, more so the feds so, them being there was not at all to his liking.

"I was asking what you did prior to you getting the box."

"Oh yeah, well we were coming from a sound check of the venue where we would be performing. We did that and then we would go to lunch, but before that we were going to stop by the hotel for a change of clothes. I walked into the front desk and was talking to Felix, but before I got on the elevator the receptionist told me that a package had arrived in my name." The girl let out a soft sigh, refocusing on her story. "I wasn't surprised that a package would suddenly arrive, usually information about where you are and who you're with usually travels faster than light, plus it's not the first time it's happened to me."

"What do you mean it's not the 'first time it's happened to you'?" J.J. asked again.

"Well, usually brands contact the band's marketing people days in advance to find out where we are to send packages, to use at concerts or interviews as part of the publicity. It's not the first time a brand has sent a package to a hotel for us to receive." Suddenly, Y/N's face became a bit of an enigma to people. "Even though I was surprised that it was addressed to me, usually they tend to address it to Gerald because he is the manager, they don't usually expose our personal information because of possible leaks."

"That's true, they always send packages in my name by protocol, it's part of the contract that is signed with the brand at the time of sending it." Gerald stated.

"So them sending packages in your name is not a normal thing, is it?" asked Emily.

"That's right, there are usually packages that come with letters inside that indicate who they are addressed to, you know... 'Dear Autumn or Dear Paradox'." Spencer's gaze went in the direction of the pictures in the package and then to the girl in front of him, who looked distracted at the rings on her fingers.

None looked like a wedding or engagement ring, Spencer thought.

Even though that thought quickly faded, it was unprofessional to think about it when a madman was after her and sending her ghoulish gifts.

"So the person thinks they're close to you, or they're a person from the past who was close to you." Commented Tara, who simply kept leaning against a wall.

"It's kind of hard, a lot of the people who were close to me suddenly cut off contact or are stuck with me, like this group." A fake laugh escaped Y/N's lips, glancing in the direction of Reid, who was lowering his gaze.

Bang, final punchline.

"Thank you, miss. We know it's important information you've just given us, but we'll still have to conduct an interrogation with all of you separately." Before anyone could protest, Emily continued. "This way we can rule them out as suspects, we know they wouldn't hurt Y/N, but this way we can start working quickly and efficiently to find the culprit, before it gets any bigger."

"What do you mean by 'bigger'?"

Y/N looked in the direction of the woman in the suit, who simply let out a sigh.

"That it might come to hurt someone in your circle or... you."

All the air in Y/N's throat shot out, feeling her insides stir at what the woman had just said.

They could hurt her friends just by being friends with her, the only family she had left just by being close to her.

"Thank you agents." Gerald stood up as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he had to warn the management straight about the risk of the tour at this point.

This was a disaster, a complete disaster.

It had been a couple of hours since the agents had set up at the hotel.

Since that couple of hours, Spencer had not been able to cross a single word with Y/N.

It wasn't because they wouldn't let him, on the contrary, he'd had plenty of opportunities to do so.

But the words in his throat wouldn't come out, it was as if they were trapped and his brain wasn't working at all.

"How do you know Autumn, Boy wonder?"

Penelope's voice snapped Spencer out of his chimera.

"What are you talking about, Garcia?"

"Don't try to fool me, it's clear you two go way back. You knew who she was with just a glance and she confirmed it, even though you'd never seen who it was. You didn't even react when we saw her pictures at Quantico, you didn't seem to know who she was until she spoke here, so tell me now, how do you know her?"

The woman's hands went to her hips, implementing pressure to get Spencer to talk about what was going on.

Y/N and Spencer were a couple of feet away, but they seemed like they were miles apart.

"It's a long story." Spencer began.

"If you don't tell me, I'll investigate under my own steam and believe me now that Hotch is gone, I'm not going to stop."

"Well, Y/N and I have known each other since college. We were friends for a long time, exactly three years..." A long sigh took hold of Reid, who felt all the memories together fall like an avalanche of sensations and emotions, just like how it was when he was in college. "I think he was one of the few people who put up with me during this time and who supported me the most. But when I was accepted to the academy I promised not to cut off contact with her when I moved to Virginia..."

"So what happened, why did it seem like running into you is the most horrendous thing that ever happened to her, even though she got a human finger this morning?" Penelope's own questions were answered as she looked at Spencer's embarrassed face. "Don't tell me that... Oh no, Spencer."

"I stopped responding to her letters within a month of arriving in Virginia, cut off all contact with her."

It seemed that admitting it made the pain stronger and stronger, like a stake through his stomach and his whole body.

"Why, Spence, why did you do that?"

"Well, the truth is-"

"Guys, there's security camera footage. Penelope we need you."

They both looked at each other before they could make their way to where everyone was.

They were all standing around the computer, where it was clear on the monitor screen as someone dressed as a courier dropped off the box, then handed a receipt to the receptionist and quickly left. Fast forwarding the recording, the moment where the band enters and the package is handed over can be seen.

"Well, the girl gets the package and then asks a question." Luke spoke aloud.

"She probably asks who sent it or who delivered it, to make sure it's for her." J.J. replied back.

"And then she goes to the elevator, the doors close and then..." The recording switches to the one in the hallway where the group is seen exiting the elevator heading to one of the hotel's private rooms. The new image is seen in the boardroom, where everyone is seen sitting around chatting and the woman opening the box.

The scene seemed orchestrated for a key scene in a horror movie: the girl screaming, holding her hands to her mouth and the others seeing the inside of the box, Felix trying to calm Y/N down, Tyler running out of the room, Gerald calling mortified to what appeared to be the police and Shawn calling on the phone in the room to what would be reception. In a quick lapse, the amount of people running in and out of the room is seen, leading people outside to leave the scene as close to what had just happened and soon stops when the police arrive, who do the procedure when faced with such situations.

"The group enters the room, Y/N opens the box, yells and soon everyone takes different stances with what they just saw, but no one touches the box except for Y/N..." Rossi watches Penelope replay the recording from the beginning, from receiving the package.

"I think it's common sense seeing that, I wouldn't touch a box with a human finger too." Garcia replied to Rossi.

Spencer watched everything in extreme detail, trying to figure out what he was missing. There was something that didn't add up to him, as if it was all set up to happen that way.

"Doesn't it look to you like everything was perfectly organized?" Spencer's voice made everyone turn to him. "Like everything all of a sudden was made to run like that, like that person wanted us to see what happened, every single thing that happened while we got there."

Every single movement of the band was on camera, from their departure from the hotel in the morning to their arrival at lunchtime; from when, Y/N, they received the package to when they opened it, what everyone in the band was doing at the time of the event and even after the event, every single movement was monitored by the cameras, every single one of them.

"It's as if that person knew their routine to the letter, every single schedule and activity..." At the time, all BAU members had one person in mind, the only person who could know every detail about them was the one who lived 24/7 with them.

"Thanks, big G." Y/N received the coffee between her hands, drinking it from the makeshift interrogation room. The five of them were looking at each other, trying to understand what they were doing there and how they had gotten there.

"I don't understand why they have us here, we haven't done anything. We've already told our story a bunch of times and to different people, what the fuck are they waiting for to free us? A divine miracle? For this crazy guy to come and turn himself in?" Tyler was the most dismayed at that moment, at any moment he was going to explode against anyone who stood in front of him.

"Stop it, Tyler. We're not getting anything out of your shitty attitude, they're shuffling through every possibility to rule us out of being a crazed psychopath out to hurt Y/N." Shawn gently patted Tyler to try to calm him down, but it seemed to have made him more prone to explode. "The more we help on this, the faster we can get out here and have a good nap."

"Shawn's right, guys. Let's try to make it easier for the agents to investigate, so we can get on with the tour as soon as possible." Gerald finished with his pack of gummies, tossing the wrapper in the trash.

"What did the bosses say regarding this?" Y/N's words made Gerald let out a sigh, sitting back in the chair where he was.

"As long as this won't calm down and that none of us were in danger, the tour will have to be paused or at worst, cancelled."

A wave of protests came out of the band's mouths, causing Gerald to have to pound the table to calm them down.

"Cancel it, G? We haven't been on stage for two years and to suddenly cancel it, our sales will go down." Tyler vociferated, rising from his seat.

"What's going to happen to the fans? We're going to disappoint them if we cancel it just like that, they've waited for four years for new music and two for a tour, are they going to keep us on indefinite hiatus again? You know how long we've waited for a tour, they know the level of fans we manage worldwide." Y/N was next to rant, bringing one of her hands to her hair to comb it.

"Can't you tell your fed friend to help us hurry this up?"

A current of electricity coursed through every part of Y/N's anatomy, who turned to look at Tyler for his words.

"No."

Y/N's words were harsher than breaking a diamond in two, causing the guitarist to raise his hands in a symbol of peace.

"Let's try to stay calm, guys. Let's not lose our peace, this will work out, I read that the BAU is one of the most prestigious groups in the FBI, they'll be able to solve this problem before this goes any bigger." Felix turned in Y/N's direction, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and invited her to sit next to him.

The silence and calm didn't last long as Spencer and Emily entered the room, along with two police officers.

"Officers, are you bringing news?" Shawn asked, before he could watch as the officers approached Gerald's chair.

"Mr. Gerald Murphy, you are under arrest for being the prime suspect in the crime committed-" Emily's voice made all four of them stand up from where they were.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Felix was the first to react, trying to stop them from slapping handcuffs on the oldest of them all.

"What are you talking about, he didn't do anything! Gerald!" Y/N's loud voice made Emily's voice sound in the background, which recited the rights he had and escorted him out of the room. "Gerald! Please!"

"Hey! You sons of bitches, he had nothing to do with it!" Tyler went after them, along with Shawn who had him by the hip so he wouldn't throw himself at them.

"Shawn, call corporate! This is a misunderstanding, calm down." Slowly, Gerald's voice became more and more distant.

"Gerald! Please, he didn't do anything!" Y/N was more agile than the officers, so she quickly wriggled out of their grip.

She still didn't get very far when familiar hands held her back from going outside, where a group of paparazzi were waiting for some action for the morning news.

"'Stop it, Y/N... Enough fighting." Spencer's voice made her fidget, trying to get out of his grip, but starting to tire after a few struggles.

"Let go of me, Reid. Stay out of it, he didn't do anything." The girl's slender hands went to the chestnut's wrists, making them downward to signal him to let go.

When the boy released her, it made Y/N turn in his direction.

She was angry.

No.

She was furious, her face was red with rage and her voice was shaking.

"What's the matter with you people!? You just took away an innocent person."

"The evidence places you as the possible perpetrator, Y/N." Spencer was trying to sound calm, occupying his most professional voice in front of the girl.

"What the fuck are you talking about! He was with us when I got the package! And the last two months since he started the tour! We would have noticed if it had been him." Y/N's hand movements indicated desperation and exaltation, Spencer could tell with her body language.

"Have you been with him in the moments he's been missing to do unofficial things? Or in the spare moments between rehearsals?"

Y/N's voice was replaced by silence, leaving the most obvious answer in evidence.

"That person can be dangerous, Y/N."

"Then why didn't he ever do anything to me? Why didn't he ever do anything to us?" Y/N folded her arms, still wearing that annoyed expression on her face.

"Because I use decoys to take out his anger."

"What do you mean, a-are there more people besides Bruno?" Her voice trembled at the recent news, bringing her hands to her face as she realized Spencer's facial expression hadn't changed at all at the bad news.

"At least eleven cases have been linked, Y/N."

There's that scary expression again, Spencer thought.

Y/N had to brace herself against a wall to keep from losing her balance, feeling a sensation rise from the pit of her stomach to her throat.

Even though he was aware of what was happening, there was one thing that was clear to him.

"Gerald wasn't, Spencer. I can bet my voice on it, he's innocent."

"Y/N, the evidence-"

"Fuck the evidence, Spencer! He didn't do it! He wouldn't be able to! He bet his whole career on a broke shitty band, he bet his life on us." Small salty tears began to fall down the cheeks of the girl, who faced the young man. "Someone who bet his life, his career, his fate on a band with no future couldn't do that."

"Y/N..."

"No, Spencer! He wasn't, that's my final word." The petite girl's small body walked past the taller one, bumping her shoulder against the other's arm as she left the scene.

"Please, Y/N, listen to me."

Despite Reid's long legs, he wasn't able to catch up to the young blonde who was disappearing inside the elevator.

Everyone's attention was around the heated exchange of words between the two, it was impossible to let go of the situation they had just witnessed and even more so with the end of it.

The man leaned against a wall, letting out a heavy sigh before he could turn around inside the room where his companions were.

"Spence, everything okay?" J.J approached his best friend, who looked somewhat upset from what had just happened.

"Everything's fine, J.J. She was upset about the situation that just happened." He commented giving a long sigh, looking in the direction of the elevator door where the girl had just disappeared. "It's all right, okay?"

A new silence surrounded them with the people in the place, watching each other's faces for the next move they were going to make. Spencer was touchy, everyone knew the singer was detonating something even they didn't know if they could handle, a side of Spencer they had never seen.

"Excuse me, Dr. Reid?"

The brown-haired man's gaze went in the direction of the door, where the boy they identified as Shawn was standing.

"Can we talk?"

The cigarette between Y/N's fingers was burning away as time went by. The icy wind on the terrace gave her goose bumps, but she tried to forget the event that had just happened.

They had arrested her only remaining family, accusing him of being the person who might be sending her those horrible obsessive messages and also accusing him of possibly hurting her.

Along with this, she had just run into the person she thought she had forgotten after 15 years and would now have to be with him behind 24/7.

Footsteps sounded behind her, causing her to let out a whimper and, without looking back, she blurted out.

"Felix, please. I want to be alone, what part of that don't you understand?"

The smoke in her lungs choked when she heard the answer.

"I don't think it's a good idea to be alone on a rooftop, Y/N."

The girl's body turned, watching the tall man behind her. He had his hands in his pockets and had that look on his face that made her get on her knees.

"Least I want to see you, Reid. It's already too much to share with you for the last few hours." She commented sullenly, taking one last puff on her cigarette and flicked it to the ground, stomping on it with the toe of her boot.

The contrarian's arms crossed her chest, starting to walk in the direction of the door that divided them from the elevator and the terrace.

"Y/N, listen to me." Spencer's hand caught one of the girl's arms, causing her to turn sharply to push him away.

"I have nothing to hear from you, Spencer. Unless it's to get Gerald released."

"Gerald may be the person who wants to hurt you, Y/N. I'm doing this to protect you."

"Protect me or make a wash of your image?"

"You know better than that, I would never do anything like that."

"How can I believe you? Liars don't change, Spencer. Do me a favor and let me go."

Y/N's attempt to flee had been interrupted, again, by the older man who wouldn't let go of her arm.

"Please, you have to listen to me."

"No Spencer. It's been long enough that we could talk, and now I have to listen to you because you want me to? What's happen with me, I have to ignore the fact that you didn't contact me for 15 years and now I have to act like we're lifelong friends? No Spencer, it won't happen."

"Y/N, this goes beyond that, it's import-"

"Important? This is more important than you erasing the idea that I ever existed? That we ever had such a strong friendship? That I supported you in every way you could think of, what about me, Spencer? Do I also have to forget all the damage you did to me when you disappeared? It's not fair." Y/N's cheeks burned, all the pent up anger she was going to take out on him. "It was always 'Spencer this, Spencer that' you, you and you. For once, in your life, stop thinking about yourself and think about me, for once in your fucking life!"

"Things aren't the way you think, stop imagining things that aren't."

"Then how were they? Explain to me how things were. Go ahead."

The atmosphere between the two was so tense that they could cut it with a knife, as if suddenly all time stopped for both of them.

Spencer had a chance to redeem his mistake, to prove that the reason things were done this way was not because of his own arrogance, but to protect her. To prove the point of his absence for so long, of cutting off contact so suddenly, that he had done things right and always, always, thinking of her.

But he didn't.

"It's not the place and time to do it, Y/N."

Spencer could see the hint of illusion Y/N had in her eyes fade, as her pupils went completely black and on her face neutrality returned.

"Right, because for you it's never the place and time to do it, Spencer." Before she could turn around, she came back to face him one last time. "The day you have enough pants to face the problem, that day talk to me but for now, don't you dare cross me unless it's to get Gerald back here."

For the second time that day, Spencer watched Y/N's blonde hair disappear behind the metal doors.

Just like the last scent of their past together.

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[xx-meat-clown-xx]

Non-canon-compliant Spiderio Rambling

This post is about the comicsverse but much of it is my own interpretation of the comics with a lot of context omitted, particularly on the dynamics prior to Daredevil (1998) #1-7, if those issues mean anything to you lmao. It’s all going under a readmore, content warning for everything you would expect from Spiderio. (Gaslighting, death, violence, things of this nature.) 

Summary: Inverting the usual Spiderio dynamics borne from the MCU using comicsverse and exploring how that might look from Quentin’s perspective. 

my favorite aspect of comicsverse spiderio is that there’s moments where quentin simply must be coming to the conclusion that spider-man is a fucked up freak (/pos) like him or perhaps even worse. you have to keep in mind he’s not a mutant or enhanced and put that into perspective with Peter keeping active tabs on him. On top of Quentin ruining his own life due to his impulse to villainize one superhero in specific, the guy follows him now. forever.

and when Peter catches him, Peter is very, very comfortable with how much protection the helmet gives Quentin. This guy can tear Quentin apart limb by limb literally. Without his helmet, I could say without exaggeration that if Peter had beaten him in the same way he would have died several times over. (At one point in the more recent comics, 2019 if I remember correctly, Quentin’s helmet is so strong that it deflects a bullet for example.) 

I wonder how much of Quentin takes this as a threat. Does he think Peter is telling him with each punch, “I could do this to you. I want to do this to you.” Pete would disagree outwardly with this perspective but he would agree. He does want to hurt him. 

The primary difference between these perspectives is that Peter isn’t using it as a threat. He scares people sometimes too to get them to cooperate, he doesn’t mean it. He holds people off buildings, sometimes he even drops them before swinging down to catch them. Peter threatens people, scares them intentionally to make them do what he wants. But his behavior with Quentin isn’t a threat, it’s something else, something worse, and I think it’s something Quentin has clued into. 

Peter loses some level of self-control with Quentin because he knows it won’t kill him if he does. From Quentin’s perspective, as a fallible normal person (relatively speaking), he likely on some level fears Peter. Not the persona that he projects, what Peter shows him when there’s no one watching. 

To Peter, this is rationalized as letting out steam. He’s within his right to fight back and to defend himself. To Quentin, this is evidence of a true self, glimpses of the man behind the mask. Even with the direct risk of bodily harm, though, that’s a necessary if not primary aspect of Quentin’s goals. He purposefully cuts as deep as possible to see a reaction.

I think 616 Mysterio is consciously aware of the possibility of death when he conducts villain against Spider-Man, I’d even argue that he’s planning on dying that way because it would destroy Peter. Not only with the public eye, which is almost enough to justify the risk on its own, but it would so fundamentally destroy Spider-Man’s entire perception of himself. That would make it worth it. To haunt him, to drive him to tearing his integrity to shreds over him, to completely destroy everything he stands for over Quentin.  The concept is nearly paradoxical -- to drive Spider-Man to hurt him so badly that all Spider-Man can do is blame himself. (This is incidentally why Far From Home fucks so severely.)

Quentin is quite confident in his art and Mysterio is the embodiment of his art, so he likely overstates his own importance in Peter’s mind. He likely thinks Spider-Man is as obsessed with him as he is with Spider-Man. After all, they both stalk one another. On occasion, Spider-Man will even follow him, as if he’s warning him. Perhaps just reminding him. 

So, then, with all of that in mind -- imagine either having a crush on the other. Perhaps it’s even reciprocated. What a terrifying situation for Quentin to be in! Peter, consciously, would never purposefully push on Quentin’s boundaries in this way. But Quentin doesn’t know that and he wouldn’t believe it if Peter told him. 

For Quentin’s part, I’m under the impression he would repress it for the most part. That could be his dirtiest, most well-kept secret. After all, he can’t use it against anyone. It’s a vulnerability. Quentin needs to hedge his bets, he’s on an uneven playing field. In the event he is acting on his romantic or sexual interest, it’s highly likely it would be in a scenario where he believes he has complete and utter control over Spider-Man psychologically or emotionally. The risk of rejection is too much, too damaging. 

But as for Peter having feelings or an attraction for Quentin, this is very different.

Even if Quentin reciprocates, the fact that that only holds as much weight as Spider-Man gives it must be paralyzing. Who’s to stop him then? Certainly not Quentin. And that’s sort of the horror of being Mysterio -- all along the only person stopping Spider-Man from killing Mysterio is Spider-Man. And Quentin has never trusted Spider-Man because he’s always known he can inspire something in Spider-Man, something primal and violent, he can make Spider-Man worse. 

Romantic or sexual interest would just be another step up, more intimate, more unnerving. It necessitates no longer being the monster he’s built himself into, being laid bare metaphorically or literally. Quentin is used to Spider-Man being obsessed with Mysterio -- not with Quentin. There’s something depraved about it. 

And what an opportunity it would be! Even if he reciprocates, even if he’s imagined this scenario a thousand times over, what a wonderful, new way to claw his way into Peter’s psyche. Could he resist the urge to unmask him the moment he’s close to him? Would he wait until he’s distracted, fallen asleep? Even if Quentin doesn’t want to use it against him--yet--it’s insurance. Spider-Man knows where Quentin sleeps; it’s only fair. 

Even if Quentin doesn’t reciprocate, what a powerful tool to have over Spider-Man. He can make him worse. He can make him worse. The opportunity doesn’t outweigh the fear, the primal reaction Quentin resents and tries to suppress. 

In some way, whenever Spider-Man has pinned him down and ripped off his helmet, forcing Quentin to look his masked-face in the eye, he’s felt like the roles have been reversed. The predator has become the prey. Quentin wonders if his eyes dilate when it happens, if Spider-Man can see his autonomic and undisguisable fear. He could die here. 

Even now, when Spider-Man means him no harm, he feels distinctly like he’s about to be eaten. Is Spider-Man aware that when his pulse speeds up it’s not because he’s pressed up against him? Does he understand that when Quentin looks at him through unobscured eyes, a brush against his neck sounds like a resounding, paralyzing, breathtaking, wet crack? 

But this is too much of an opportunity. Quentin has been handed so much power. He has no choice but to wield it. After all, if he were in Spider-Man’s position, well... Without question, if it were Quentin, if Quentin wielded so much physical power over Spider-Man... Because Quentin can’t stop thinking about bones snapping, can barely hold back a manic smile at the concept, he has no choice but to wield this power over Spider-Man. He has to even the playing field. 

If it were Quentin, if it were any other context, the only reason he can imagine himself holding him down would be to -- oh, he’s not sure where he’d begin. (The rotator cuffs would be good, the shoulders as well, perhaps his wrists. They take a long time to heal and he’ll be much less of a nuisance without all that swinging, won’t he?) So, naturally, he needs to hedge his bets. If he were in Spider-Man’s position, what would convince Quentin to not hurt him? 

Like prey, he submits. Guarded, he gathers information, ascertains whether the jaws wrapped around his neck are likely to snap closed. Maybe Spider-Man is trying to scare him, testing him. If Quentin were in his position, the idea of snapping his jaws shut is dizzying, breathtaking. 

He’d play along. He’d ascertain the role he’s expected to play and slowly dig his claws in. How much can he get away with? If he promises what Spider-Man wants, then he can wield this power with intent. He can figure out what he wants, what he likes, and dispense it when it’s the most beneficial to him. If Spider-Man were smart, he’d do the same in Quentin’s position. If anything, he’d find it quite endearing. 

And, crucially, Peter would have absolutely zero idea that Quentin is so afraid of him. 

(As a final note, I think 616 doesn’t really think of himself as an attractive person and would be distrustful of any advances due to this. He could perhaps compartmentalize it as an attraction Mysterio as performed by Quentin Beck, which is an attraction he could understand. They have so much history and chemistry in costume, and he can understand the appeal of the taboo.)

[cemetrio]

What’s this? The introduction post, a day early...? Seems like it. Anyways, today we’ve got Doc as the Lord of Rage and Beef as the Mage of Blood! ----- Act 7 is a Hermitcraft Homestuck AU taking place during the transition from Season 7 to 8, wherein the Hermits play a mod called Sburb as a “fun and innovative new way to enter your SMP’s new season!”

Things go terribly, horribly, miserably wrong.

(Introduction posts will go up once a week!)

[fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy]

Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

[losingmymindtonight]

Whumptober: Unconscious

AN: Whumptober is just me seeing how quickly I can write something. It’s not quality, nor is it quantity, but it sure is fic. That’s about all I’ve got in me.

--

The alert went off just after 3:00 am.

Which was, as a general rule, not one of Tony’s favorite times to get alerts.

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice startled him from his hyperfocus on the exposed circuitry in front of him, “I have detected strange anomalies in Peter Parker’s vitals.”

He looked up in surprise. “What time is it?”

“3:03 am.”

He blinked. “And why the fuck is the kid in the suit at 3:00 am? It’s a school night. His curfew is 11:00.”

“Mister Parker is not in the suit. My readings are coming from the biotech in his watch.”

Okay. That… that wasn’t exactly ideal.

“What are the anomalies?”

“Mister Parker’s heart rate is unusually elevated and his blood oxygen levels appear to be rapidly decreasing.”

Did the kid go on patrol without his suit? Tony was going to kill him. “Where is he?”

“In his bed.”

Wait, what?

“Are you… are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck? F.R.I.D.A.Y., track his phone.”

There was a pause as the AI completed the request. Then,

“It appears to be on the table beside his bed, Boss.”

“Call him. Now.”

“Of course.”

The sound of the phone ringing filled the lab. Tony pushed away his project. He had more important things to worry about now.

The phone kept ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system. Peter Parker is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you finish recording you may hang up, or press 1 for more-

“Push the call through, FRI.”

“Yes, Boss.”

There was a brief rush of static, and then quiet.

If he listened really, really hard, he could just barely make out the sound of someone breathing.

“Peter?” The kid must be asleep (or unconscious), because there wasn’t any answer. He tried again, louder. “Peter!”

He heard the rustle of sheets, then a huff of confusion.

“Mis’er St’rk?”

“Thank god, you’re alive. You had me wondering there for a minute.”

“Huh? Where’re you?”

He blinked. “Try your phone, bud.”

“Wha’? Why’re you in my ph’ne?”

No, no, no, no, no. The spark of concern that had settled at the sound of the kid’s voice lit right back up, bright and sharp. This was a serious step above you-just-woke-me-up-and-I’m-still-half-asleep confusion. This was… that was something much, much worse.

“I-I’m not. I called you, Pete.”

“Called me?”

“Mhm. Are you alright? F.R.I.D.A.Y. says your vitals went wonky and you seem… a little out of it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I don’ feel good.”

He sat up straighter on the bench, hands clenching with fear. He’d known something was wrong before, but hearing the kid admit it only gave purchase to the panic. “What do you mean?”

“Feel weird.”

“Define weird.”

“Dunno. Head hurts. Feel sick.”

Tony blinked. “FRI? Does he have a fever?”

“No, Boss. Although Mister Parker’s O2 levels are dropping low enough to be an imminent concern.”

He leapt to his feet. A little early morning trip to Queens wouldn’t kill him. Who needed sleep, anyway? “Pete? I’m coming over, okay? Can you get up and wake May?”

“Not here.”

“May isn’t there?”

“No. Graveyard shift.”

“Okay. Okay. That’s alright. I’m gonna come take care of you. Just keep talking to me.” The suit folded around him and F.R.I.D.A.Y. flipped the call to his heads up display without being prompted. “Do you feel like you’re gonna throw up?”

“Mhm.”

“If you need to, just do it. I’ll clean it up later.”

“M’kay.”

“Good boy.” He rushed out onto the roof and shot into the air. He was so hasty in his takeoff that he had to quickly correct his trajectory with his thrusters, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Did you feel sick before you went to sleep?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright.” He muted himself and finally let the panic seep through his voice. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.? What the fuck is wrong with him? Is it the flu?”

“The flu does not usually involve such a rapid drop in oxygen levels.”

“Then what’s wrong with him?”

“My sources indicate-”

“Those sources better not be WebMD.”

“They are not.” If Tony didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded offended. “As I was saying: my sources indicate that Mister Parker is likely suffering from a drug allergy. However, it is also possible that the symptoms are the precursor to an epileptic episode or a brain hemorrhage.”

“Why the fuck would he have a brain hemorrhage?”

“Considering Mister Parker’s age, state of health, and activity level, the most likely cause would be trauma. Until I can run a more in-depth scan, your best course of action would be to continue assessing his mental status.”

He switched his audio back on, nodding as if F.R.I.D.A.Y. needed his confirmation. “Hey, buddy. You still with me?”

“Mhm.”

“Good job. Hey, I have some questions to ask you, and it’s really important that you answer them honestly. I swear I won’t get mad.”

“M’kay.”

“Did you go on patrol earlier? Without the suit?”

“No.”

“Do you promise?”

“Mhm.”

“So no injuries I should know about?”

“No.”

“Did you take medicine before you went to sleep? Ibuprofen? Anything?”

“No.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright. Have you ever had a seizure, Pete?”

“Wha’?” That question seemed to wake the kid up a bit. “No. Why?”

“I’m just checking. How do you feel?”

Peter seemed to contemplate that for a second.

“‘M... ‘M really tired, Mis’er Stark.”

“No. Nope. Stay awake, okay? I don’t know what's wrong with you yet.”

“Somethin’s wrong wi’ me?”

This is wrong. This is so, so wrong. “Yeah, buddy. You told me you didn’t feel good. Remember?”

“Mm. Oh, yeah. I really don’ feel good.”

“I know. I’m,” he glanced at the ETA F.R.I.D.A.Y. helpfully threw up on the screen, “I’m three minutes away from you. Hang on.”

“M’kay.”

There was something impossibly frightening about having something wrong with Peter and not knowing what. He’d had to get used to the idea of the kid getting hurt on patrol, rolling into the Tower clutching a bleeding wound or a broken bone. It was an uncomfortable truth, but one he’d learned to assimilate into his life.

But this… this was exponentially more frightening. This was something happening to Peter, not Spider-Man. He could sew up bullet wounds and cast broken bones. He couldn’t fix something he couldn’t even diagnose.

God, he hated being stuck in the dark.

“Can you tell me more about what’s wrong, kiddo?” Honestly, he didn’t really expect to learn anything useful. He was just trying to keep Peter as lucid as possible until he could get there. “What feels bad?”

“Head.”

“Your head hurts?”

“Mhm.”

He could see Peter’s apartment complex now. Every inch closer made his heart rate climb. “Anything else?”

“Dunno. ‘M just… tired.”

“Alright. Remember what I said, though, right? No sleeping.”

“No sleepin’.”

“That’s it. Good boy.” He landed on the fire escape outside Peter’s room with the discordant clatter of metal on metal. It was loud enough to be unwanted at 3:00 in the goddamn morning, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to care. “I’m here, bud.”

“Took a long time.”

Don’t I know it, kid.

He ended up climbing through the window into Peter’s room. There was a part of him that nearly went into the main entrance and took the elevator to the apartment (May had given him a spare key, so he could’ve just let himself in), but the half-panicked ball of worry in his chest convinced him otherwise.

“Pete?”

The lump on the bed shifted. “Mis’er Stark?”

He rushed to the kid’s side, metal-clad knees knocking into wooden floors as he knelt beside the low-slung mattress. “Hey, squirt. Told you I was coming.”

Suddenly, an alert, red and flashing and impossible to ignore, exploded onto his heads up display.

WARNING: DANGEROUS LEVELS OF CARBON MONOXIDE DETECTED DO NOT REMOVE HELMET INITIALIZING OXYGEN RESERVES OXYGEN RESERVES INITIALIZED

He froze in realization. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Mister Parker’s symptoms match those of carbon monoxide poisoning, although it is notoriously difficult to diagnose without context. There is likely a leak somewhere in the building.”

“What do I-”

“It is advised to remove Mister Parker from the contaminated area and into fresh air as quickly as possible. I have notified emergency services. They should arrive within five minutes to assist the other residents.”

At some point during his hurried conversation with F.R.I.D.A.Y., Peter’s eyes had fallen shut. He didn’t move when Tony pressed his gauntlet against his shoulder. He shook him, first gently and then with more vigor, and the kid just stayed limp.

“Pete?” Nothing. Shit. “Alright. Don’t worry about it, kiddo, I’ve got it handled.” He tore Peter’s comforter away in a manner that definitely did not denote I’ve got it handled, but he supposed it didn’t really matter when Peter was unconscious. “I’m gonna pick you up now, okay? We’re going on a little trip.”

Peter offered no resistance when Tony scooped him up. And, fuck, the kid was heavy. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the kid was 5’8” of pure muscle.

Pure muscle that was now a complete deadweight.

Great.

He clambered onto the fire escape with a lot more grace than he’d really expected. Then again, he had the added motivation of not wanting to jostle the precious cargo cradled to his chestplate. As he went, he found himself babbling nonsensically to the kid.

“It’s all gonna be fine. I’m gonna take you back to the Tower and pump you full of oxygen. That’ll be nice, yeah? And I’ll call May, tell her that you can both bunk at the Tower until the leak gets solved. It’ll be great. You love sleepovers.”

Peter didn’t twitch during the flight back to the Tower, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn’t alert him to any worsening vitals, so he did his best to focus through it. He didn’t waste time taking the suit off when he landed on the roof, just headed straight for the MedBay.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” He called, skidding his way into one of the MedBay rooms. “What do I do? Why hasn’t he woken up yet?”

“He needs oxygen, Boss.”

He felt like screaming. “He’s getting oxygen.”

“Not enough.”

He deposited Peter onto the bed in a tangle of uncoordinated limbs. His lips were tinged with blue, just slightly, and the sight made Tony feel like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen himself.

“Sorry, sorry.” He winced in sympathy as the kid’s head lolled unnaturally against the plastic mattress. “I’ll make you comfy when you can breathe, kiddo, sorry…”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in before he could even process that he needed her help. “The oxygen tanks are located in the hallway supply closet, along with tubing and a mask.”

He jogged out the door and tore open the closet door. It only took him a few seconds to bundle everything he needed into his arms, but they felt like wasted moments all the same.

He’d helped set up a few oxygen tanks in the past, and it wasn’t necessarily difficult. Attaching the tubing was made slightly more complicated by the tremors running through his hands, but he pushed through it. 

“There ya go, buddy.” Relief rushed through him once the mask was snug over the kid’s face. “All better now. Or, at least, we’re on our way, yeah?”

The next few minutes dragged by. Tony resisted the urge to glue himself to the vital monitors. Instead, he forced himself to trust F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s judgement, and stuck right by Peter’s side, brushing his hair back and talking gently. He knew firsthand the adrenaline rush of waking up in a place different than the one you lost consciousness in, knew how terrifying and disorienting it was. He wanted Peter to have an anchor: something that he understood, even if he didn’t understand anything else.

“His oxygen stats are improving rapidly, Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. offered after what felt like an eternity. “I estimate that he is likely to regain consciousness soon.”

Sure enough, Peter groaned a minute or two later, forehead wrinkling and he shifted weakly against the mattress. 

“Hey buddy,” he murmured, cupping Peter’s face and tilting his head so he’d be lined up perfectly in the kid’s vision when he opened his eyes. “C’mon. Look at me, yeah? Let me know you’re alive in there.”

Peter’s eyes snapped open. For a brief second, his entire body keyed up, muscles coiling, but then his gaze cleared and his pupils found the face hovering above him and Tony could see recognition shoot through his expression. He melted, then, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of his mouth.

“Morning,” Tony whispered. Peter just blinked up at him slowly, brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s alright. Just keep breathing, nice and slow.”

A sluggish hand fumbled up to the oxygen mask, but Tony caught it before he could pull it off. “Yeah, I know. Leave that be. It’s helping.”

“Patrol?” Peter slurred, and Tony had to strain to make out the word through the mask.

He shook his head. “Shh. Don’t worry about it right now, alright?”

To his surprise, Peter relented, eyes drifting closed again, any hint of lingering tension releasing from his expression. “M’kay.”

Tony let his head bow forward, shaky with relief. He felt like he’d spend the rest of his life chasing after Peter Parker, scooping him up and stitching him back together again.

“I’m really glad you’re alright, buddy,” he said, voice low and strained.

Peter didn’t answer, just turned his face sleepily into his palm, but Tony didn’t need to hear anything from the kid, anyway.

He knew.

[whumpiary]

continued directly from the last section of this post. the lead-up post is vignettey, so you can skip straight to the last section for context especially as majority of the warnings in the post do not apply for that section.

[content warnings: heevily referenced drugs and drugging, referenced past abuse, panic attack, mild dissociation, brief emeto mention]

-

He wakes up in Lou's bed. He knows it's Lou's bed because despite the chokers and studded boots, her bedroom is all bohemian patterns and peach tones and the doona cover is too. He doesn't move yet. He doesn't have it in him to bear it. 

It's a horrible, horrible feeling, drifting away in complete terror and walking up full to the brim of nothing but numbing calm.

It would be disorientating - should be - but honestly he's done this so many times that it feels like a well rehearsed play. His mouth is dry. His muscles ache. If he sits up to fast the dizziness will come crashing in. The headache won't fade until halfway through tomorrow. 

What he isn't expecting, when he rolls over to face the window, is Lou in the cane chair in the corner, curled up like a cat with her head on her knee. 

He doesn't say anything.

For a long while neither does she.

It's a long frozen minute, falling through space. 

"Hey," she says, not raising her head. He doesn't say anything.

Slowly, she uncurls herself until she's sitting, feet on the floor. Her bedroom looks nothing like her but suits her all the same. Crushed bright colors, too many pillows, a collection of knick-knacks too artsy to be accidental. Evidence that she has a soft side beneath the resting bitch face. 

Pity that side was twisted too. 

"You awake this time, or…?" she trails off, tilts her head to the side as she looks at him. She's got this soft worried look on her face like it matters to her what he thinks of her. Like it matters to her what he's feeling. 

"Did I do something earlier?" he asks. It happened sometimes, with sleeping pills. Or powders. Whatever they'd given him. Sleeping, sure, but sleep talking too. Walking, even. He'd heard stories of people driving all the way to work and clocking in before someone clued they weren't conscious. Full on sleep fucks.

"Sorta," Lou shrugs "Just lay there like that and then went back to sleep."

Silence again. She's watching him so carefully he feels like he might shatter. 

"Josiah made some pasta," she says, trying for light. It doesn't reach her eyes. He registers kind of apathetically that it looks like she's been crying "I don't know if it's any good but-"

“Not hungry.”

“I can get you some water?”

"You must think I'm fucking stupid."

Lou bites down on her tongue, lips twisted with the way it's shoved between her molars. She rubs her thumb across her temple. Sighs. "Yeah, that’s... fair."

He keeps watching her, like a tiger watching its keeper, and she keeps trying to pretend it isn’t making her nervous. She plays with the rolled hem of her shirt, inspects her nails like she’s considering biting them, smooths the edges of the blanket over the arm of the chair. And Cass just watches.

There’s a bird outside singing out without reprieve. Only it isn’t singing. Not really. It's a shrill sorta shriek. Like it’s screaming and screaming and screaming.

“I really am sorry, Cass,” she whispers, low enough that he wonders if she's hoping he won’t hear it. Cass revels in the fire that burns in his chest as she says it. It’s the stoking of violence and hatred and the worst kind of vindication.

Cass doesn’t say anything. He watches. 

He wonders when she took her makeup off. If it’d been last night — or whenever it was he’d been awake last — or if she’d done it just before coming in. A way of making her look more vulnerable. More open.

Look like the innocent flower etcetera, et-fucking-cetera.

“Cass, love. About last-”

“Where’s Josiah?” he says, trying very hard to make it seem like it’s just a question and not a way of counting bullets. She looks at him, almost scoffs just under breath. He watches the inhale, the hold, the exhale. The careful choice of words.

“Um. Last night, any time Josiah came close, tried to touch you... You were um...” 

He can’t remember but he can imagine it. He can imagine the pendulum swinging between kicks and bared teeth or begging and pleading. Or maybe he just cried.

That’s the worst one. When he cries.

Lou shrugs, almost trying to wave it off. “We just thought maybe you needed some space.”

Cass considers that. That could mean he left the house. It could mean he’s still here, just the next room over. Depends how much they want to trust Cass won’t leave with just one person watching. Lou sucks in an audible breath in preparation to say something, and he raises his gaze to meet hers, despite himself.

“Look. Last night. Before you fell asleep. When you were, um…” she starts. Stops. Clears her throat. Tries again. Like a stalling car. “Like, when… you know when you weren’t...-”

“After you drugged me,” he says, voice cold and flat. “That’s what you’re tryna say, right?”

Her eyes flick up to meet his and for a second they’re so full of defensive anger and fury that he has to stop himself from flinching backwards. He tilts his head back in the pillows instead, silently dares her to feel righteous right now. But the look fades as quick as it had sparked, replaced by shame and guilt and sorry.

“Stop talking bullshit, Lou,” he says, hopes beyond hope that she’ll give him the small mercy of ignoring the tremor in his voice “Or just stop talking.”

She takes a deep breath, looking at the ceiling. Holds it. Releases slowly. 

“After we drugged you,” she says, sentences punctuated by the firm clenching of her jaw, “You kept coming in and out of it. You were…”

He turns away from her as she talks, lying flat on his back. His eyes trace the cornices of the ceiling. This is an old house. One of those good bones sort of places. He’s never really noticed before.

“You were scared. You were really scared.”

Yeah no shit, fuckwad.

“You kept saying things. Like the time you had the fever.”

He closes his eyes, waiting for impact.

“You mentioned… him again,” she says, voice tight and strained “Bergen.”

He can imagine the way her face looks. That pained, apologetic expression that’ll be pointed at the ground and not at him. Pity and heartbreak and baby, it’s okay, I’m so sorry, let me make it better. 

Fuck her.

The bird outside pipes up again. Screaming and screaming and screaming.

“Cass, we didn’t know,” she says eventually “I’m so sorry. We both are. We didn’t know.”

Cass snorts.

“Yeah, you did,” he says. He’s almost startled by how strong his voice sounds. Low and steady. Dryly amused. 

“Sorry?”

“You knew.”

He turns back to face her and that look on her face — sorry and lost and a little bit hurt — God, he wishes he could photograph it and keep it forever. 

“Cass,” she’s shaking her head just barely, deer in head lights, beside the headlights, looking at the roadkill. “I swear to God. I swear to you. Neither of us knew. If we had’ve known what Bergen did to you, if we knew how it was gonna affect you...  Look, we would’ve done it different. We would’ve.”

"Okay," he says, nodding like he's considering that. He takes his time sitting up, doesn’t try to hide the dizziness or the way he has to slam his eyes closed as the headache spikes.

“So… remind me, because frankly my memory of last night is a little muddled-" she flinches at that and it sends a thrill through him "-but at any point did you try just giving me the thing and asking me to take it?"

Lou scoffs and looks away, fingers fidgeting together restlessly between her knees.

"Answer me, Lou," he spits. You owe me that. "Did you even once just offer me the fucking pill?"

"No", she says. Low. Flat.

“Why not?” he says, heavy on the faux-ignorance. Like he’s just genuinely puzzled by a weird social phenomenon “Honestly, I’m curious. Why didn’t you just ask me to take it? Wouldn’t that’ve been easier? Could’ve saved the fucking teabag.”

Lou hisses an in-breath through her teeth and tilts her head up to the ceiling, violently blinking tears away that both of them would rather die than see fall right now. “Cass, come on.”

“No, I want you to answer me," he says, calm and low."I want you to think about it and actually fucking answer me.”

When she looks back at him, her face is schooled placid, though her breaths nearly give her away, jumping in little suppressed hiccups in her chest.

"Because you wouldn't have taken it," she says, matter-of-fact, eyebrows arching up in that way they do when she's getting defensive.

He shrugs, like he doesn't get it. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re weird about that stuff,” she says, she sounds almost annoyed that he’s making it spell it out so obviously. “You wouldn’t even eat dinner, you get weird about that stuff."

"Then you knew, didn't you?" he says. In the silence that follows, in the moments it takes for her eyes to close in shame, he can feel his heartbeat start to pick up, caught somewhere between his chest and his throat “You knew, one way or the other what doing that would mean to me. And you did it anyway.”

"Cass-"

"Whose idea was it?" he asks, no chance for another excuse to come pouring out of her "Who came up with the grand plan?"

"Me. I did" but she says it too fast. 

"Right, so Josiah, then," he scoffs. It would almost be easier if it was the other way around. Lou usually meant for the best but sometimes she took a misstep. But Josiah. Josiah's meant to be the one who knows. 

"Don't be angry at him," she says. Fuck her for making it a plea. "Please, Cass. We were just trying to help you, we were trying to keep you safe. We were scared"

"You were scared?"

For once he doesn’t give a shit that his eyes are burning just a little. Let her fucking see him cry. Let it hurt her. It’s all rage anyway. 

"Jesus Christ, you're right. How could I possibly stay mad at you. You were scared"

"We were scared, Cass. We were scared for you" she says, "You weren't eating. You weren't sleeping. You said no hospitals, we didn't want you to fucking die"

"Ah, so it was for my own good."

"Yes," she all but growls.  

Cass laughs. 

"So where's the line, huh?" he says, dangerous manic smile splitting his face "Would you lock me up for my own good? Send me away? Hurt me?"

She looks away, bites down on her bottom lip, leg bouncing double-time with fury and shame while her fingers grip the edge of the chair.

"You know he did that too?" he says, catching her eyes, watching it wound "He was always doing things for my own good. Hitting me, starving me, holding me down.”

“I’m not doing this, Cass,” she says, a mask of stoic indignation “I’m not letting you get a rise outta me just so you can prove some messed up point.”

“But you’d be so good at it, Lou,” he pushes “Maybe not some of it, but we all know you can land a hit, don’t we?”

She crosses her arms, but she’s still sitting forward on the chair, like her body’s poised to launch up at the slightest provocation.

“I’ve always kinda been waiting for it, you know? I knew you were always waiting to teach me a lesson. I just always thought it’d be with your fists not with some weak-ass pussy bullshit in the bottom of a tea cup.”

“Stop it.”

“It fucking kills you, doesn’t it? That you don’t have control over me any more. You would love for me to be back in a Facility lab, waiting for you to dole out piss-weak kindnesses like some fucking psychic Mother Teresa hypocrite.”

There are tears in her eyes as she shakes her head, speaks through her teeth, "That is not fair."

Another laugh. “You're right. It's not."

“Cass, you never told us-"

"I shouldn't have to!” and he fucking bellows it, humor gone, teeth bared like a beast. Lou flinches the best way a fighter knows how, back straight, eyes wide, hands reflexively jolting into fists for an attack that won’t come “I shouldn't have to tell you about every shitty fucking thing in my shitty fucking life to for you to know not to roofie me.”

His heart is hammering hard, too hard and too fast for what’s happening right now. He has the stupid, irrational thought that he’s gonna go to Penance for yelling like that. But that’s… that’s wrong. That’s old thoughts. Old tracks echoing out from the heaviness of his bones right now.

But knowing that doesn’t stop the way his breath picks up, it doesn’t stop the darkening edges of his vision as oxygen refuses to make it to his lungs. He fixes his eyes to the carpet, tries to steady himself on the mattress because he feels like he’s gonna fall, even sitting.

“Jesus, Lou,” he whispers, words barely squeezing out his throat and he’s sure it’s closing up “You, you drugged me. You fucking… you drugged…”

This can’t be real. This isn’t real. Any second the world’s gonna fall away and either he’ll wake up on the couch with his tea still steaming hot and untouched or he’ll wake up back in Christopher’s lap and everything, all of this, will have been some sick, sick nightmare twisting his heart in the worst possible way.

There’s no way this has happened. There’s no way that he managed to find people that he trusts and he loves and who he thought maybe loved him only to have them do this all over again.

His eyes fly around the room as his breathing mutates into something entirely of its own. He’s not even sure what he’s searching for, what he’s hoping to find. An exit, maybe, or a thing that makes sense. Something that will make this make sense or make it disappear or will prove to him that his life can’t be this fucked up. It can’t possibly be this fucked up.

“Cass-”

He sees Lou shifting forward and he stutters back, pushing sheets down to the foot of the bed with his feet in the rush to fly backwards, the twisted-metal headboard digging into his spine.

“Don’t,” he spits, but it's full of sorrow and fear and he hates that it sounds so weak “Don’t you dare.”

And she freezes. Mercifully. Settles back down in the chair, fingers twitching along the woven cane.

The panic attack – and that's what it is, isn't it? the numbed, rational part of his brain provides him that much – builds and builds, uselessly.

Fear that can’t go anywhere. Adrenaline coming in too late to save him. He interlocks his fingers behind his neck, arms squeezing either side of his head as he closes his eyes, toys curling up, body curling up like that could possibly protect him from what’s happening.

He feels like the terror is never gonna leave him, never gonna stop, he’s gonna be like this forever, body shutdown and mind splintering a hundred, a thousand, a million different ways while the world spins on and on around him. But then all at once, it starts running out, like a dying motor.

This is silly, darling boy.

Like somewhere in his head, he’s decided that’s enough time-wasting for now.

You’ve done this a thousand times, what’s the fuss for?

His breaths stutter and slow and level out into wheezes until he feels hollow and numb. When he opens his eyes, he’s still staring at peach paisley bed-sheets, and he’s equal parts relieved and horrified that none of it was a dream.

This is real.

This happened.

Just another layer of kinda fucked up.

"Where are my clothes?" he croaks out, after a few minutes of hollowed-out quiet. He feels water-logged drained dry at the same time "This isn't my shirt. Where's my stuff?"

"You threw up," Lou mutters, chair creaking beneath her as she shifts "You were hyperventilating and... You threw up. So we had to wash it. It's in the dryer, it’ll be done soon."

"Okay.”

The bird outside had changed its tune. Or maybe it's a whole different bird, he's never been great at picking between them. It keeps giving off a low trill, persistent and badgering. Like it has something to say. He misses the screaming.

"I need water,” he says, the dry husk to his voice a testament to the glass.

"’Course. I’ll go get you a glass"

The look he gives her withers the suggestion straight away, “No, you’ll help me to the fucking sink.”

“Cass, come on.”

“No, Lou,” he snaps. He’s almost startled by the fact he has more in him right now. “You ruined it. You get that, right? You fucking ruined it”

He keeps thinking it. All the cliches.

You ruined it. I trusted you. How could you? I could’ve been happy here. You were meant to be safe.

They all feel so stupid. He feels so fucking stupid.

"Yeah," Lou says, softly. Apologetically. Tears stuck in her throat. Bird changing its tune. Or maybe singing the same one. "I know.”

He swings his feet over the edge of the bed and manages to stand up by himself. But by the time he’s taken a step his legs are shaking so badly he doesn’t hesitate grabbing at Lou’s arm for stability, even at the desire to recoil at accepting the help, accepting he’s weak.

Her thumb runs a little circle along his fore-arm and his shoulder tenses up on that side but he doesn’t move to stop her or tell her any different. Too close to acknowledging he’s letting her touch him at all.

He wishes he didn’t know that he’ll forgive her by next week. He’ll forgive them both. Process, get over it, move on. He wants to hate them forever. It’d be so much easier to hate them forever.

He doesn't know why it hurts so much this time. He doesn't know why he feels not just angry but so, so sad. He doesn't know why and also he does and it's the knowing that hurts. 

By the time they’re in the hallway, Cass is crying freely, silently, the only sound the tiny hissing shudder of his breaths as they get caught on the grief in his throat.

“Love...”

Lou reaches up for his face and he pulls back. Not so much a flinch as it is a gentle turn of his face. A pleading for space.

“Don’t,” he says, a little hiccuping sob following the word “Please just don’t.”

She pulls her hand away and readjusts her grip on his arm. She lets him lead, awkward as it is with her arm holding the balance.

He lets the tears slide down his face. He’s too tired to stop them. Too scared. Too fucking sad.

And it’s horrible. The worst.

It’s always the worst. When he cries.

[honestgrins]

Pretty Good Bad Idea || Klaroline

As the CEO of admitted hellcorp Original, Klaus was used to professional criticism. Caroline, however, was really, really good at it.

.

The ballroom was full of people, animated and cheery with the holiday spirit. Original's annual corporate celebration grew more lavish by the year, thanks to Rebekah taking full advantage of the expanded budget she'd sweet talked out of the board. Well, she'd sweet talked Mikael, who strong-armed the rest of the members into compliance as a boon to employee morale.

Never mind the numerous proposals Klaus tried to implement in order to actually improve salaries and benefits, he thought bitterly to himself. Heaven forbid the board approve any of his initiatives, he was just the CEO. He should have known Mikael wouldn't allow him to wield any real power within the company; if anything, he was more constrained than ever under his step-father's thumb. Still, he was good at his job and they were all billionaires for it. 

He ran the highest valued company in the world, yet he was miserable at his own party. Somewhere, a very small violin was surely playing for him. Groaning at his own self-pity, he made his way to the bar. Whatever specialty cocktail Rebekah had the waiters passing around wasn't nearly strong enough for him.

Ordering a scotch, he leaned back to survey the room. His sister was coaxing her date onto the dance floor; his own date was chatting with his mother. He rolled his eyes at the sight. Clearly, Genevieve was getting too comfortable with imagining herself his girlfriend. If she thought ingratiating herself with Esther would improve her chances, she deserved whatever his mother threw her way. Intimidating the significant others of her children was a point of pride for her, until those that made it all the way to the altar met her complete approval.

Honestly, it was easier to avoid serious attachments altogether than face that kind of scrutiny. He sighed, wondering when Genevieve lost sight of their casual status.

Before he could text his assistant to send a breakup bouquet sometime during the next week, however, his gaze caught on Mikael and a woman hanging on his every word. She was dressed more simply than most of the guests, but her jumpsuit was sleek and well-fitted. Blonde curls gently fell down her back, red lips tilted up in a curious grin.

She was beautiful, and Klaus couldn't take his eyes off her.

But nothing could make him willingly approach Mikael, let alone in public with witnesses to what would surely be a hostile conversation at best. They mostly traded barbs via intermediaries, and their familial relationship had never been better. Her, though, he would have to maneuver an introduction to her. 

His moment came when Esther interrupted them to claim a dance with her husband, the younger woman demurring with a nod. No handshake - they must have known each other already. Interesting.

Left alone, she slipped toward the bar, and Klaus couldn't help a sly smirk that he hadn't needed to intercept her at all. Instead, she was walking straight toward him. He threw back the last remnants of his glass, turning to order a refill just before she stepped up next to him. "Can I get a ginger ale, please?"

The bartender quickly went about his business, but Klaus seized the chance of a briefly captive audience. "I don't believe we've met. Klaus Mikaelson," he greeted, offering his hand.

She seemed to be biting back a smile, shaking his hand like she was laughing at him. Eager to be let in on the joke, he was content to bide his time. "Caroline," she responded. "Caroline Forbes. I'm surprised. I was under the impression you don't enjoy company parties."

His eyes narrowed, wondering what tales Mikael had been telling. He had no desire to talk about him, however. "They have their upsides," he hedged. "You're here, for example."

"Charming," she laughed. The bartender finally slid over her drink, but to Klaus's triumph, she didn't move to rejoin the crowd. She watched him shrewdly while she sipped. "Do you flirt with all your employees?"

"You're not one of my employees."

Her expression turned skeptical. "You have hundreds of thousands of employees all over the world," she shot back. "I doubt you have them all memorized."

Klaus smirked from behind his glass, thoroughly enjoying the taste of victory. "It would take some studying and better context, but I'm better at knowing my team than most expect. That said, I do recognize your name, and not from the Original directory."

With a dejected sigh, she gave a rueful smile. "Damn that byline exposure."

"For good reason," he noted. "Your writing is particularly memorable, love. I think I have one of your articles hanging on my wall. 'Nepotism is Alive and Well: Another Mikaelson Assumes Role as Original CEO' was one of yours, wasn't it? I had a few headlines to choose from when I moved into the new office, but I liked the bite of that one." Honestly, he kept that one to remind himself that he ascended to the position despite Mikael's wishes; that others assumed Mikael tacitly endorsed his leadership was just a fringe benefit. "I wasn't aware Rebekah invited press to the party."

"She didn't," Caroline admitted. "My roommate is on your security team, though, and he brought me as his plus-one."

"Josh?"

"Enzo. San Francisco is an expensive city, and you have a habit of not paying your staff an adequate wage to live here."

He shrugged, feigning a lack of concern when he'd been arguing for exactly that to improve retention. It was more a ploy to keep employees loyal to him rather than Mikael, but he was still making the effort. "Yes, I'm sure you're the breadwinner, what, with your esteemed work at the local paper."

Her cold smile burned right through him, and he'd never been so delighted. "At least my pittance of a salary comes with integrity and a firm grasp of ethics. You should stop by our union meeting sometime, see what it looks like when workers actually have a say in their standards."

"My employees are free to petition their managers for a negotiation," he answered easily, enjoying her little, indignant huff.

"And your managers are trained to pass the petition up the ranks until it's nothing more than a bullet point on your morning memo, which you pass off to one of your directors without taking the terms into consideration."

Smirking, Klaus tipped his glass to her. "I assure you, my morning memo isn't listed in bullet points."

"That's not an answer," she insisted, her voice stern.

It only made his smirk deepen. "No, you'd have to talk to my media director for that. She's right over there, doing a poor rendition of the Macarena, I believe. Care to dance, love?"

Caroline rolled her eyes with a scoff. "You know, I also talked to Genevieve tonight. She actually introduced herself as your date, which is so sad that I can't even laugh about it. You should ask her to dance. You're not even worth the calories I burn talking to you."

Oh, how he wanted to change her mind about that. "Yet here you are, crashing my party. What's the story this time?"

Her jaw tightened as she seemed to consider her best course of action. He was pleased when she favored bluntness, a trait he ascribed to her natural personality. "Rumor has it you're trying to force your father out of the business. Any truth to that?"

The room might have frozen with him, not that he was paying it any attention. "For a journalist with integrity, you're putting an awful lot of trust in Mikael Mikaelson as a source," he bit out.

"I am a journalist with integrity," she replied in kind. "That's why I'm verifying the firsthand account of a very high profile source within the company. I can see he's paranoid and holding onto his chairmanship with a white-knuckled grip, and he has a history of twisting media attention to his favor. But then," she paused, watching him carefully. "So do you."

How else was I supposed to wrest the chief executive from him? he wanted to ask, but it would do no good to confirm her suspicion - not while Mikael was clearly making moves against him. Best the board as a whole didn't find a reason to remove him as CEO, and proving how well he manipulated them would surely create a motive to do so. "As I said, feel free to seek comment from my media director. Preferably during business hours, of course."

Her smile returned in full force, leaving him wary and completely taken. "Of course, sorry to disturb you, Mr. Mikaelson."

"Miss Forbes," he nodded. She brazenly held his stare for a long moment before she turned and strode away, the path she cut through the party holding his attention for far longer. That wouldn't be the last time they went head to head. 

He'd make sure of it.

[sometimesrosy]

What is your take on the grounders? I just have no idea where their story is going since S3 essentially where we saw their politics they haven’t seemed to change or adapt at all. They are always one step away from a mutiny no matter who tries to unite them, its a never ending cycle of temporary unity, infighting, violence and mutiny.

Well, I mean... if the show is about breaking the cycle of violence and abuse and tyranny and putting humanity on a different path to a better world, then it seems to me that the STORY of the grounders is that the society needs to come to an end.

For precisely the reasons you mention.

It’s not the ONLY society that needs to come to an end. So does sky crew. The ark may not have been as violent and barbaric as the grounders, but it was more oppressive and repressive. MW also NEEDED to come to an end. It would have been nice to reintegrate some of those people into a new society but that was impossible because of the society as it was. Sanctum also needs to come to an end. It is fascist and a nightmare. The eligius prisoners are barely a society, they’re more like a bunch of violent criminals dressed sitting on each other’s shoulders and dressed in a trench coat. They nearly devoured themselves with the first freedom they found in Eden. I can’t tell about the COG yet. I don’t know who they are.

I think actually one of the main ideas of this story is revolutionary in nature.

In order to set the world on a better path, to do better, to be better, and allow humanity its redemption, the old world needs to end.

This is revolution.

Our heroes are the rebels. Sometimes they can change things without violence, using reason, community, support, friendship, opportunity, vision, etc. But when faced with violent societies that want to destroy opportunity, hope, opposition and their own people, then the only response is... well... violence.

If their position was that only peace was the answer, then Luna’s society would have survived, instead of being eaten by the original violence. If their position was that ONLY peace was the answer, then Monty would not ALSO have been a killer. 

Where is the story of the grounders going? Change or die. That’s where it’s going. 

We’ve got characters who supported that change... most notably Lincoln, who shifted the whole story. He died for it, but he didn’t fail. Luna failed because she didn’t support that change, she was an isolationist. She didn’t try to change anything, she just left it behind and ignored it and lived a life pretending it didn’t exist, no matter what happened. MAYA supported that change, and even though she didn’t survive, she succeeded. She wanted to help her people change but they were unable to, and so her people failed to change and died. Monty supported that change, and he SUCCEEDED, he didn’t fail. He may have failed with the earth itself, because the people, wonkru and eligius, were too violent, but he rescued the survivors and set them on a better path... a STEP to authentic transformation. GABRIEL supported that change and did what he could, but it was not enough. Perhaps he was too gentle, refusing to face down his people, who he loved, who were doing wrong. 

Oh hey. Diyoza supported that change... but I think she’s more like Clarke and Bellamy, willing to take down the evil in order to save the people. But she failed. And we didn’t see that story, we only saw her after she failed, although we did see her try to set up a better society, which also failed because of the violence of eligius and wonkru. So she failed there too. Kane also supported that change, he failed to do it himself, but influenced others, Bellamy, Octavia, Clarke, Miller, Harper, to do better. Sometimes the successes come in stages, and one generation alone can’t do it. 

Huh. It’s interesting that every one of our societies has rebels within it who attempt to change the violence.

THIS is the story of the rebels. 

The delinquents and their found family are the REBELS attempting to wrest the violence of their post apocalyptic societies away from the violence and oppression that surrounds them.

Hmm. I have a theory that I’m beginning to wonder about that grounds this science fiction show in history and the politics of the country that are blowing up right now. Ok. so stay with me. It all begins with JR, where he comes from, and what this show all MEANS. (I know everyone hates JR, but this is irrelevant in trying to UNDERSTAND JR, her perspective, and what he’s trying to say with this show.

First. JR is from Detroit. I mean, maybe he’s from white flight detroit or Grosse Point the rich suburb, idk. But where he’s from is a place that has suffered a LOT because of racism and class oppression. I had a slightly older baker friend (white lady) when I lived in Michigan, who told me stories of sitting on her front porch in Detroit, watching tanks drive down her street. And that put me to mind of what we’ve seen in the news lately, of militaristic forces going down civilian streets shooting rubber bullets to get them to go inside. 

So I googled to see where JR was from. I didn’t get anything specific about his background, but I did find out that before The 100, he created a pilot called “The Body Politic” that was a drama about about young DC staffers. It was never picked up but was considered “one of the best pilots you’ll never see.” [x] I was not clear on what “the body politic” meant, so I looked it up.

bod·y pol·i·tic/ˈˌbädē ˈpälətik/ noun

the people of a nation, state, or society considered collectively as an organized group of citizens."individual dissent was considered necessary to the health of the body politic"

huh. Body Politic. The head and the heart. And we’ve been talking about the parts of the body the other characters represent. 

I think The 100 is The Body Politic turned into a post apocalyptic sf show.

Okay. Back to detroit. I googled civil unrest detroit and found out about the 

The 1967 Detroit Riot, also known as the 12th Street Riot, was the bloodiest incident in the "Long, hot summer of 1967". Composed mainly of confrontations between black residents and the Detroit Police Department, it began in the early morning hours of Sunday July 23, 1967, in Detroit, Michigan

I MEAN. Like. HELLO 2020. 

And it turns out that JR was born ONE MONTH before the Detroit Riot. Clearly too young to remember it, but also clearly, when looking at his creative projects, it DID influence him. 

He was born into a city in revolt. His show tells the story of the heroes of revolt, not the leaders or military (the guards who terrified octavia, bellamy becoming a guard as betrayal,) Also, he’s jewish and a lot of jewish people took part in the civil rights movement, and considering his story, he may have been raised by parents in a community that fought with black people against racism. This is speculation, but you can tell what matters to people by what they write about, and sff has ALWAYS offered a way for people to write about social injustice by taking it out of the context of the real world and putting it into a fantasy setting, thereby allowing people to see the people in the political conflicts without the implicit bias of our societal racism, bigotry, classism, homophobia and other isms. 

This analysis should make fans who think JR is going to go the way of D&D feel better. Because D&D NEVER EVER had political motivations to their work. They weren’t trying to make a better world, they were just trying to make money and are in fact on the side of the oppressors, as you can see by how the story ended up when they were in charge of the narrative. Because according to what I’m saying, JR is on the side of the oppressed, and on the side of the revolutionaries who want to end the system that tyrannizes them. So our heroes, the revolutionaries, should be victorious. He’s not going grim dark. He’s going hope in the darkness. It might still be a romantic tragedy, but these revolutionaries are going to win and bring about the rebirth of humanity. 

Where was I going with this?

Oh you asked about the grounders and you got a surprise “JR says we’re going to find out what it all means, what does it all mean???” answer.

Because the answers are connected. Where is the society of the grounders going? Where all the oppressive societies are going. Gone.

If they don’t change with the revolution, they’re going to be eradicated. SOME are changing. Niylah, Gaia, Indra. 

Our friends are burning down the old world, so that the new world may start again. That’s what wanheda is for. The poison must be cut out. The cancer must be killed. The deadwood must be burned. 

Make it go boom. 

[kabane52]

Why the Hebrew (Masoretic) Manuscript Tradition?

Hello, why do you use the Masoretic chronology instead of the Septuaginta? Didn't the Jews adulterate the Masoretic version?

This is a question I get a fair bit, as it has become received wisdom in many parts of the “Orthosphere” that the LXX holds a privileged position by divine command and has been elevated by the Apostles as the only legitimate text of the Old Testament. I will shortly summarize my position in bullet points before answering this question in more detail. 

-The Septuagint, while of value in many ways (see below for some), does not hold a position of unique divine primacy.

-There is no evidence for systematic corruption of the text.

-If systematic removal of Christ from the Old Testament was the intent, then the project was a colossal failure, as Christ permeates the Hebrew text as we possess it from the Masoretes.

-The Septuagint was the standard text for what we think of as “the Orthodox tradition” because that tradition is largely coextensive with the Greek speaking Christian world and the Septuagint is a Greek text. 

-Furthermore, if the Orthodox Church is truly the heir of the whole undivided Church, East and West, then the Christian West in communion with the East during the first thousand years used a translation of the Masoretic tradition, not from the Septuagint. The identification of the LXX as the only historic text of the Orthodox Church is therefore wrong to begin with.

-While the Septuagint contains many insights by virtue of its being a running commentary on the symbolic sense of the Hebrew Bible and at times preserves a superior reading, there is no reason to prefer it in principle.

-The Septuagint is not the “Bible of the Apostles” in a way that the Hebrew Bible is not. Nor is it, as is sometimes asserted, the Bible of Jesus, as the LXX was only used in the Diaspora, into which our Lord never traveled apart from the flight to Egypt in His infancy.

Onto the details:

It is sometimes stated that the Jews corrupted the Masoretic text of the Hebrew Bible to remove prophecies of Christ. If so, their failure is legendary, because the messianic identity of Jesus is woven throughout the Hebrew Bible just as much as it is in non-Masoretic textual traditions. In some cases, it is even more evident than it is in the LXX. Take Isaiah 9 as an example. The LXX has “Angel of Great Counsel” where the MT has “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Father Forever, Prince of Peace.” In context, Isaiah has woven a fabric of allusions to the book of Judges, in particular Judges 13 where the Angel of the LORD makes known His Name which is Wonderful. For this reason, the translators/interpreters (these Jewish sages were interpreting the symbolic structure of the text for a Gentile audience which lacked the tools for interpreting them from scratch) recognized that the figure being described was, in fact, the Divine Angel of the LORD.

But textually, the MT is a more direct attestation to the divinity of the Messiah, and it is without question the original form. Notably, it is also the form included in Orthodox liturgical tradition! I am unsure as to how it entered the liturgical tradition, given that all except the earliest generation of its architects lacked knowledge of the Hebrew language. It is possible that this allusion thus goes back to the Apostolic Age and the Jewish church of Jerusalem. That is just speculation, however.

The claim that the MT was corrupted intentionally was made by some patristic authors and ecclesiastical writers. But none of those who made such claims could read Hebrew. It is likely that they made this argument when their Jewish interlocutor based their counter-argument on their different textual traditions. But without the capacity to directly analyze the Masoretic textual tradition, these arguments were just inferences whose justification should be considered in light of the text itself. And in my estimation, the evidence does not merit any significant intentional corruption on the part of the Masoretic scribal tradition. On the contrary, the Masoretic tradition was extremely conservative and preserves readings that are highly amenable to Christian theology. Sanctity does not, apart from special revelation, grant privileged knowledge of textual critical issues like this. St. Porphyrios’ Wounded by Love documents (in the saint’s own words) some damaging mistakes the great elder made in his early days as a confessor. And at that time, he already possessed spiritual gifts of profound rarity. Sanctity does not entail anywhere near the kind of protection from mistakes that some assume it does.

The Masoretic tradition is the canonical text of the Christian West in its Latin translation- St. Jerome’s Vulgate. While most patristic authors used the LXX numbering, others used the numbering of the MT, such as St. Bede the Venerable. So I use the MT because I think it accurately preserves the original text, often to a letter-by-letter degree. There are cases where I think the LXX preserves a better reading, but in general, if one looks for that penned by the original prophetic authors, I think the MT is more likely to preserve those words. On the “Orthosphere”, it has become common to make claims on behalf of the Septuagint that, in my view, the evidence will simply not bear out. Claims that the Septuagint was the Bible of Jesus is nonsense. The LXX was not used in Palestinian synagogues. That the apostles quote the LXX is no more indicative of a privileged divine status for the LXX than my frequent quotation of the ESV is indicative of me thinking that the ESV has a privileged divine status. NT scholars fluent in NT Greek will usually quote English translations except where their argument depends on a particular nuance of the Greek text. And the apostles actually quote both textual traditions on different occasions.

Why, then, has the Orthodox Church used the LXX as its “standard” text? More precise than “standard” is “liturgical.” And as seen above, even this is not universally true. But answering this question is easy: this liturgical tradition was originally crafted in the Greek language, and so it relies on a Greek text of the Old Testament. It is notable that under the reforms of Metropolitan St. Philaret of Moscow, the saintly theologian commissioned an official translation of the Bible into the Russian language- using the Hebrew text of the Masoretic tradition as the basis for the Old Testament. In his catechism, he identifies the twenty-two (twenty-four when Ruth is distinguished from Judges and Lamentations from Jeremiah) books of the Hebrew canon as being the texts which are strictly canonical. The “deuterocanon” or “ecclesiastical” books are not strictly canonical but “readable”, texts from the era before Christ judged by the Church as worthy of preservation for wisdom and so only canonical in a looser, extended sense.

That the Greek manuscript tradition (that is to say, the LXX) was the textual source of biblical material in the Greek liturgical tradition is not something demanding a deeper explanation or justification than “they are written in the same language.” It is natural for people to invent theological justifications retroactively for facts which are incidental, but we must be on guard against taking those for granted. The Council of Trent did the same thing by elevating the Latin Vulgate to the “official” Catholic version of the Bible! Why was the Latin Vulgate the text used in the Latin Liturgy? Because it was Latin! It is superfluous to invent additional, deeper reasons for something which already is sufficiently explained.

More generally, no translation can perfectly capture the sense of the original text. The LXX does not capture Hebrew wordplays which permeate the Old Testament. It does not capture the numerical devices which are woven throughout Moses and the prophets, because a translation will obviously have a different number of words and letters than the original text. To those who assert the irreparable corruption of the Masoretic text, the actual product of the divinely guided prophetic hand has been lost forever. There are aspects of meaning that are strictly tied to our ability to read the text in the original language, and if a reliable original language text is lost, what Moses, the prophets, and the Spirit through them meant for our instruction is gone forever. Apart from the historical evidence (which I think verifies divine fidelity in accurately preserving the word of God), such a position raises serious theological concerns.

[cpeacephoto]

               Sadly, my posting of old photos may be coming to a point where it is less frequent. I’m running out of old photos to post, particularly those that aren’t nude portraits in some way. Which is nothing else seem really old hat to me but maybe that’s just because I’m not 22 and full of hormones anymore. I need to take more photos so I have more things to post and talk about.

              I’m also noticing the community on Tumblr seems to be teens half my age. Maybe I’m just an old fart who doesn’t know how to use Tumblr? I’ve got absolutely nothing against teens. On the teen aspect, I wonder sometimes if my ranting is relevant, or even responsible.

              When we’re teens we’re going through so much. So many emotions, hormones, new situations, pressures. I can see where some of what I post becomes attractive or relatable if not just something to feel emotions to. But for most teens, these things will pass. It will change and it will get better. So I worry I’m not helping. I’ll get into that more near the end.

              It leads me to these photos today. These photos were taken years ago on the Bonneville Salt Flats. I’m sure there’s a place on the flats with an actual parking lot and visitor center but that’s now how we did it. This was probably the second time shooting this model. I’ll have to tell the story of the first another time. She was a little younger than I was grew up traditionally LDS but she herself wasn’t particularly religious or conservative. She actually seemed to like the idea of tattoos, alternative music, just being yourself even if she personally didn’t have tattoos. She was a HUGE lover of animals. Would end up one day a hedgehog breeder I think.

              On this particular day she took her dog with her and together in her old BMW she picked me up and we went down the highway. The highway at the flats is basically a straight line and no one is driving the speed limit. Lots of people whizzing by at 100+ miles per hour. Being the flats, there’s also a huge amount of wind. We drive for what must have been an hour and talked, always looking at her gas gauge as that limited what we could do. I remember at one point some of the rubber holding on the windshield of that old BMW caught the wind and just flung off the car. Made me think of being in a rocket ship and having a panel fly off.

              When we finally decided to take photos we just pulled over and walked out to the flats. It was vast, flat, and windy.

              To me, these are lonely photos. And I post them today because of it. The girl in the photos was someone I had several deep conversations with. And in many ways I think had I allowed myself to feel joy, I could have been friends with. It may be arrogant to think so, but maybe even something more. She was someone who saw my flaws and kept trying to tell me that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. And at some point in life because I couldn’t let myself have friends, let alone find love, and kept trying to tell myself I couldn’t form relationships with models or it was creepy… at some point I’d end up locking her out of my life. Suddenly, dramatically, and quietly.

              This last month has been one hell of a roller coaster ride emotionally. There have been developments that happened with my old friend. The kinds of things where you don’t necessarily go looking and somehow it just pops up. The kinds of things where suddenly a lot of things just sort of happen. Where other things just don’t happen. It’s been a month of spiraling out on anxiety and walking around like Jack Skellington going, “What does it mean? What does it mean?”. A month of trying to distract myself, feel emotionally distant, make mistakes, learn something about myself, respond to all the stress and anxiety differently. A month of things not being as bad as I thought and things not going as horribly as I thought. And on the rare occasion getting to pull out my telescope to see how my old friend is on their boat and just feel, happy or complete again for a minute. It’s been a long and strange month.

              Part of that month includes several people telling me something that I’m sure I’ve been told before by someone, but for some reason resonates now. It’s the notion that really nothing that’s happened is bad, or wrong. It doesn’t mean I’m a monster, that I’m a fuck up, or that my old friend even hates me. They probably just, don’t think of me because life has moved on for them. More to the point I’ve been told several times this month that the issue, not problem but issue, in my life is pain. Particularly that I keep punishing myself. And doing so to such an impossible and undeserving standard. As if all the punishment somehow makes everything that happened and all the time lost okay. As if should I ever not punish, then none of it would matter anymore. That if I just punish myself hard enough or long enough, that maybe life will go back to the way it was which it never will, but also shouldn’t necessarily and that’s okay. That punishment and pain have become an identity, and I’ve not allowed myself to know anything else.

              It makes me think of these photos. Because there’s been so many wonderful people along the way the last 16 years that I’ve locked out and pushed out. People I felt I couldn’t, or shouldn’t, associate with beyond a very strict point. I’ve missed out on so much. I’m at a point in my life where I don’t want to miss out on those things anymore. And I don’t want to live in punishment and pain. The time lost, is lost. But I still have the rest of my life. That perhaps there is something to be said for time served and enough is enough.

              In some capacity, even if it’s just chatting online on occasion, I’d like to move on with my old friend. Like I’ve said before, I’ve always had this weird feeling my path eventually leads me back to them. And without the worry of school, social groups, parents, the impending doom of “get life right or live in a van down by the river” now, they and I have our whole lives to get to know each other. And be who we need to be to each other.

              But even if it is just conversations online on occasion, which is progress I’m hoping comes from this month, or even if it’s nothing at all. I really want to enjoy life again with someone. I want someone to not lock out anymore.

              And I think that’s the lesson. “let it go” doesn’t mean forget about it, or it doesn’t matter. It means that at some point the only person punishing you, judging you, hurting you… is you. And the only way it’ll ever get better is if you forgive yourself and allow yourself to be happy again. Something some of the events of this month, be they good or bad, has shown me. It’s okay. SWAT isn’t about to bust down my door. It’s okay to feel something.

                Came across a podcast episode today that talked a little about this idea of Idiot compassion vs Wise compassion. It’s an interesting concept. One of those things that when you stop to think about it feels like you’ve always known about but just never really had defined before. That “duh” moment for me I guess.

                For most of us, the compassion we’ll see most often is going to be Idiot compassion. We’ll even be the dealers of it from time to time. We’ll see it mostly from our friends and our family when we’re not feeling our best.

              In Idiot compassion it’s when someone gives compassion for their own benefit. Because it makes them feel better. Because they personally don’t want to see this person suffering, or because if the suffering heed their advice they somehow gain. Such is of our friend stops being mopey we can finally go to the movies. It’s when they just want to make someone feel better, and so they don’t necessarily tell the suffering the truth.

              When we see someone we care about in a problem and we feel compelled to say something it is probably idiot compassion. Something done that probably isn’t going to really help the other person anyways. It is probably something nice for the sake of being nice. And it risks being something that may actually hurt or further the situation the suffering are in. This kind of compassion typically doesn’t take into context, see, or even care about the whole situation from an objective view.

              Your friends and family will likely give idiot compassion. As Lori Gottlieb says you may hear statements for example about a breakup similar to “He’s a jerk”, “you dodged a bullet”, “all men suck”, “never talk to an ex”. These people will commonly tell you things like you should date or sleep around to get over someone, that you just need to get over it, that’s it’s all in your head, that you should break up with someone because you had a fight, that you should marry this person because they are “perfect” or “perfect for you”. Such statements don’t really help you over time. They may feel good in the moment, but you may end up ultimately feeling unfulfilled about your “perfect” decisions, or stressed out anxious that you’re not doing as well as they said you should be or would be, or worst of all just back where you started.

              Wise compassion on the other hand might look at that same break up differently. In Lori’s case she talk about how the source of her struggle wasn’t ultimately that this guy was a jerk and her heart was broken. It was about how she thought she had her life planned out. She was getting married, doing all the right things, had a career, everything was planned out. She did everything right. And then all of a sudden, the plan wasn’t there anymore. There was no backup plan, she didn’t do anything wrong necessarily, and she was alone. The floor fell from underneath her.

              As such wise compassion first had to dive into why she was truly struggling in the first place. Maybe he wasn’t the right guy for her. Sure. At the same time, maybe the problem is she was doing everything for the wrong reasons? Maybe she wasn’t really getting the fulfillment she truly needed? Maybe she was surrounding herself with the wrong people, like “yes men”. Maybe she was depending too much on others, on ideals, on this plan, then really being honest with herself on her needs? You can have your dream job, be successful, and still not find it fulfilling if you’re not being honest with yourself.

              Wise compassion by far is harder to find, but oh so much more valuable. We often feel and maybe are ill-equipped to dispense it. It may not necessarily flatter us or the person being given to. But it’s the truth given in a compassionate way.

              In Wise compassion, the compassion we give is more skillful and meaningful. Its intent is not to say something for the sake of something, or to simply end someone’s suffering so we don’t have to watch it. The intent is to help bring release from suffering so they honestly feel better. In this compassion it may be necessary to shine a mirror upon the sufferer to show them something they may not want to see or otherwise didn’t see before.

              It is an interesting thought experiment to me because I’ve been thinking about a similar thing for a while not. There’s a lot of nice people in this world. And there’s a time and a place for that. There’s nothing wrong with nice people. But people who simply nice people, aren’t always meaningful people. They aren’t always honest people. Just because someone is nice, doesn’t mean you’re going to be the best of friends that they really care about you, that you should sleep with them, date them, or marry them. It doesn’t mean you should be investing your time, energy, life, heart and soul into them.

              They aren’t bad people, they’re just nice people. And there’s a lot of nice people who will likely be nice for a while. But ultimately, aren’t you kind of people.

“~Write your soul down word for word. See who’s your friend. And who is kind.~ Matchbox Twenty - You Won’t be mine”

              In my life I’ve met a lot of nice people. And someone of them I’ve tried to hold onto longer than I should have, some I’ve lost myself in just to have someone who was nice around. There’s some who I pursued relationships with that ultimately didn’t work out because, they were just nice.Or because I didn’t truly allow myself to take the risk of actually feeling happy and connection again.

              There have been very few people in life who I’ve found had wise compassion. People who were truly honest, in a compassionate way. Who spoke my language, who I cared about.

              Like so many of these posts, it makes me think of my old friend. In part, because it always seemed like they could always find nice people. There was always an unlimited supply of nice people to surround them. To get lost in. How can you deny the voice of the crowd? They can’t all be wrong right? And it’s so much nicer over there what they have to say. But the voices of yes men and nice people, of Idiot compassion, isn’t always helpful. It isn’t necessarily fulfilling in the long run.

              I’ve been known to give people Idiot compassion like everyone else. But when it came to my old friend, I always tried to be honest. Even if it wasn’t fun to say, even if it wasn’t at my favor. I love their art. But no, I don’t love every piece. No, it’s not okay right now. Its okay it’s not okay right now. It’ll be okay someday. I love some of the things they do, and yes sometimes the problems we had were my fault. I own that. I’ve always felt like it was far more important to tell them the truth than to say something sweet just to be sweet.

              From my end, I’ve met a lot of nice people. I’ve had a lot of Idiot compassion happen to me. People who feel like emotional tourist. It’s part of why I feel for women. It’s so easy to have tourist show up because someone is feeling lonely, or horny, and the when the feeling passes in the morning or years down the road the tourist is gone only to be replaced by another. In my life I’ve had a lot of cliché’ platitudes lobbed at me. But I’ve had very few people be they stranger, tourist passing through, friends, family, or medical people, who were truly dispensers of Wise compassion. And there’s been so many times when I’ve needed it.

              I think that’s part of the reason why I respect and admire my old friend so much. They were probably the last person who I had that dispensed Wise compassion to me. And they were possible the only person I ever felt truly honored to try and reciprocate. I suppose in the end, after all this time I just hope beyond hope that I get that opportunity again someday.

              While I’m not really big into the holistic or the metaphysical, I do want to be a romantic and optimistic. There’s a thing called manifesting where you work towards your goals yes. You don’t lose focus and you don’t give up. But you try to stay positive, have happy thoughts, think about what you want and just hold on to that thought. I’m not really sure how much I buy into all of it. But I’ve got time. So I’ve been trying to manifest a conversation via happy thoughts and thinking about that conversation happening someday. Who knows, maybe it’ll all pay off sometime.

[lunawings]

King of Prism SSS Episode 3 commentary (Taiga)

I am SO RELIEVED that this episode is FINALLY out. 

I finally get to show you guys what the inside of my head has been like for two months. 

THE FESTIVAL THAT HAS BEEN INSIDE ME

GET BUCKLED IN

Taiga’s room is divided into half Kazuki worship, half Aomori. Seems about right.

Let me start off by saying it brings me SO MUCH JOY how much Taiga loves Aomori. Aomori is way far removed from Tokyo, on the northernmost tip of the main island, and pretty much in the countryside. I went there 4-5 years ago before King of Prism existed AND I. LOVED. IT. There was a cool breeze even in the brutal Japanese summer, the atmosphere was refreshing and wonderful... and the festival. Two of the biggest things Aomori is known for are apples and, of course, the Nebuta festival which I’m convinced has to be the best festival in all of Japan. Those giant festival floats are just fucking amazing and I will be inter-splicing this post with my travel photos from that time. 

But even so, I’d think a boy at Taiga’s age would still think Tokyo is a lot cooler and want to be in the big city. BUT NO. NOT TAIGA. And since I also CANNOT FUCKING STAND TOKYO either, every time Taiga in this episode says Aomori is better than Tokyo I just want to stand up and be like 

FUCK YEAH IT IS 

Okay moving on, sorry this post is gonna be long enough as it is. 

When I first heard this line I swore it sounded like he was saying something about “Las Vegas” ahah... ha...

I am very happy with this screenshot. 

*ahem* Anyway. I looked up “rassera” ages ago because I had no idea what that was about and apparently it’s a phrase that lost it’s original meaning over time as it got muddled together, and is now only used as a festival chant. It used to mean “bring out the candles” or something?

The “us” in the sub kind of annoys me because Over the Rainbow isn’t a part of Edel Rose anymore but maybe that’s.... just.... meeeeeeeeee..............

I took the night bus from Tokyo to Aomori before. It was 10 or 11 hours. It was... unpleasant.

Old dude club in the back row.

I really wonder what people who have never seen Pride the Hero are gonna think of this exchange. If you have not seen Pride the Hero, sorry to disappoint you(?) but taxi is actually not a metaphor. 

I wonder if Kakeru would have really kept hounding Taiga if he didn’t pay him back. It’s not like Kakeru needs the money. I think it’s more that Taiga just has his pride and wants to do right by Kakeru and not take advantage of him. Or at least I like thinking that way. 

My second favorite line by Taiga in SSS. 

People at the cheering shows are like “Gimme the apron!!”

No, I have no idea why they decided to design Taiga’s cousin(s) to look like Ann and Wakana. 

My third favorite Taiga line in SSS. I just love how perfect the timing is. Taiga just watches everyone walk past him trying to debate if this is really happening or not and then just HOLD ON WAIT--

Behold Yukinojo examining what I think is supposed to be the armor that made Taiga pee his pants in Young of Prism. This is the Easter egg I was talking about. 

I LOVE OZORA. 

Another great thing about SSS is learning how all of the boys have these amazing female characters in their lives. 

The first/only anime reference to Taiga’s distaste for apples. In side material it’s been explained that Taiga can’t stand apples because they are everywhere in Aomori. Even the sound of someone biting into the skin of an apple drives him nuts. Minato has used it as punishment before in Prism Rush. 

People in the theater like to say “Don’t forget the apple!” 

At the midnight showing I think the girl next to me had a brain aneurysm when she saw Wakana here. And I might of as well. 

At this part I always yell “WAKANA DON’T GO!!!!”

Just.... ahhhhhh Taiga being seamlessly inserted in the Rainbow Live continuity like this is just... kjlfjfkljfls.......

Even though I know in the logical part of my brain that Taiga did not exist when Rainbow Live was made, I still kinda want to go back and look for him in the background of that episode anyway. But I hesitate because I know I won’t want to be disappointed with not finding him. 

Still, the idea that Wanana, Ann, and Kazuki all supposedly knew him from way back when is crazy and makes my heart warm. 

(Oh but WAKANAAAAAAA so sad)

So. “Gaudy” huh. We’re goin’ with that huh. HUH. “Gaudy” I know for a fact is the literal translation you get when you look up “charachara” in a Japanese-English dictionary. I have used it too... AS A PLACEHOLDER....................

Seeing this and trying so hard not to FUCKING SCREAM at the midnight showing was a moment for all of us. Taiga.... Taiga.................. Taigaaaaa................. I can’t see this without feeling it travel through every nerve in my body. 

WakanAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Accurate description of summertime in the countryside of Japan. Everyone hangs out and eats copious amounts of fruit probably from a neighbor’s farm. Just go out and walk down the street and you’ll come home with fruit. 

So this is Aomori city, the area not far from the station. When I saw this in the theater I was like, that looks.... kinda familiar. Then the next day I went searching for photos from my sideblog @mdawnjpn and....

I found this and I just immediately started tearing up, like hand over my mouth trying not to cry on the bullet train from Tokyo back to Nagoya during that first weekend. I was there I WAS THERE. 

So I mentioned previously I got to Aomori after a 10 or 11 hour night bus. And I didn’t sleep for almost any of it because I just can’t sleep on buses. And I felt LIKE. DEATH. But I couldn’t find an internet cafe or anywhere to sleep for a while because Aomori city just doesn’t have a lot of things. So I ended up literally just sleeping on a park bench by the ocean for a couple hours. Like around here.

And I remember seeing them starting to set up the festival when I woke up and being like woooah where am I this is amazing. But.. Just like, since Over the Rainbow performs here every year I guess I must have slept through their show. Oh NOOO ahaha

Anyway

And here it is. My number one favorite Taiga line in SSS. Just like the way he says it

OVER THE RAINBOW

THE FUCK IS THAT 

Ohhhh Taiga you’ll know very soon......

Also notice the different colored tie. I wonder if this was his legit school uniform at the time. 

People hold up two concert lights and break them apart when Hiro’s pride is broken in the first movie, and they do the same here.

Oh Taiga...... why is your pain so hilarious.........................

Sometimes I ask myself the same thing.

I love the contrast here between the overly realistic uncomfortable crowd, overenthusiastic Ozora, and poor Taiga. I love it. I LOVE IT. I WAS NOT KIDDING WHEN I SAID EVERY FRAME IN THIS EPISODE IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE 

It took me two or three viewings to realize that Taiga is actually crying here. Or rather trying really hard not to cry. 

I’m not sure if I’m counting favorite Kazuki lines or not since he doesn’t have a big roll in SSS, but if I am this little “Huuuaah” might be it. 

Poor Kazuki. He does nothing on purpose to incite the storm that has brewed around him with both Taiga and Alexander.

Taiga’s Mom is the fucking best. Like I said, I love SSS for bringing out all these amazing, supportive, strong female characters. Everyone’s Mom is great but Taiga’s Mom might be best Mom. 

Or at least I thought so until I met Alexander’s Mom but the jury is out right now. 

It took me like five viewings to realize their watermelon switched to corn and I laughed way harder than I should have. 

OTSUKARE TAIGA

I loved seeing him be a big brother here eheh. 

Taiga why did you even ask. You know how Edel Rose works.

Shin just looks so happy. He’s a puppy. 

My goal in life is to enjoy everything the way Shin enjoys things.

Yu’s AHHHHH MOOOOUUU in this scene might be my favorite Yu line ahaha. 

I don’t know why, but I the more he whines the more I love him. That’s just how you know Yu is having a good time.

RIGHT

RIGHT

FUCK TOKYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AHHHHH I WANT TO GO BACK TO AOMORI RIGHT NOOOWWWW

I’m like 40% considering going back this summer. 

I live in Aichi not Tokyo by the way so if I don’t fly that’s about UMMM 16 or 17 HOURS ON TWO BUSES BUT

Okay okay okay. So NOW it’s “street style” huh. Well what the fuck was with that whole “Solid Style” thing in episode 1 then? I guess the translator didn’t realize they were literally talking about street dance? Like WHAT? Or did they just forget?

And you know what actually this kinda pisses me off more, because the least they could do is keep it consistent. 

Because now that whole important line where Shin actually explains it for the first time in the main canon MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE ANYMORE 

ALSO

WHY IS ACADEMY CAPITALIZED AND STREET NOT

WHY

FOR FUCKS SAKE IM GONNA K--

Taigaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

(I’m OK now.)

Giving him a shojo reaction here was a choice. They didn’t have to. It was a deliberate choice. To portray Taiga’s feelings for Kazuki. Ahhhhhhhh

So remember when I stayed up translating this all of a sudden after I watched SSS Part 1 for..... reasons..... 

No I do not know why he’s an apple. Well I assume it has to do with the job he’s doing. And I do have a hunch from a creative standpoint but I’ll talk about that later. 

First timers in the theater always be like “R... RINGO..?????”

NO YOUR ASS IS BIG

....Is one of my favorite callouts of this episode. 

AND WHY IS JOJI EVEN IN THE CAR ANYWAY 

At this point during the midnight showing I was like.... is the real villain of SSS just gonna be Joji going around casually inconveniencing everyone? ....I’d watch that. 

This is the storage area near the main festival stage where you can go and see the floats before the festival starts. 

Here’s what it looks like in real life: 

One of the few instances where I can assure you real life is just as good as the anime. 

For people who read my shitty out of context spoiler about how a character beat Louis for the amount of skin showed in a prism show. Wasn’t kidding. 

Tasuku kinda spoiled this outfit in the first day greeting show by saying something like how it was an outfit which fit Taiga’s tastes well (festival wear) and everyone else was like NO STOP--

But yeah. This show. This soonggggg

Taiga’s voice is just SO. BEAUTIFUL. He has my favorite singing voice in all of Edel Rose. 

So after the first weekend I made a post to Tumblr about how I thought I had avoided getting any of the songs in my head, but then a certain one started CREEPIN IN...

IT WAS THIS

Taiga’s song is both the first one to get stuck in my head, and the one that keeps getting stuck in my head the most often to this day.  

I just love how he makes Nebuta floats of all his friends ahhhhhh 

Here are some more photos of the real thing..

It was raining the year I was there, and when it rains they put plastic over them so they look like snowglobes. That’s kinda cool in itself though.

I’ll never forget seeing this for the first time, realizing what was about to happen and being like NO... NO WAY.... IS THIS REAL LIFE NO WAY IS WHAT HDHFKHFDFH;LSFHDLSHFDS 

I’ll never forget it because I basically still feel the same way every time. 

They didn’t have to set this up like a confession scene. But they did. It was a choice.

But during this scene at cheering shows, I am much less concerned with what Taiga was trying to say and much more concerned with prepping blue and green lights for..... 

Words cannot express how happy this made me. If you haven’t picked up on it already Wakana is my favorite girl from RL. MATTE NYAAAAAAAAAA

Oh look here. A GOOD translation for “charachara”. One that I might actually steal from now on. Usually the best I can come up with is “flirty”, “carefree”, or “showy” depending on the situation.

So it seems at this point the translator finally understood what “charachara” actually means in the context of King of Prism. So of course, the logical thing to do here would be to go back and correct the previous wonky line where they used “gaudy” to make it consistent... right.... RIGHT??

Does Crunchyroll actually translate line-by-line as soon as the episode comes out in the hour before they post it? 

They don’t even get any time to edit it?

ARE

YOU

FUCKING

KIDDING ME

I dunno about you but I would wait a few more hours for fucking slightly more decent consistency in the translation BUT MAYBE THATS JUST ME 

OH LORD Kakeru’s episode next week is gonna be A SHITSHOW. 

The sitcom ending to this episode is so dorky but I love it. 

THIS EPISODE IS PERFECT

FRAME IT

DIP IT IN COPPER

SEND IT TO SPACE 

DONE 

It was really cool to finally see the details in these festival floats in the ending since they go by so fast in the episode. Shin’s has a rainbow! I wasn’t expecting Masquerade, but I suppose it fits Taiga as well. And it’s not that the Taiga version isn’t good but...  

It’s just that... I.... I want the CD but I..... I already have three different King of Prism covers of it on my phone........... nnnrhg

So. 

I dunno about you guys. 

But basically my interpretation of this episode is that no matter what Taiga says....

Everything he’s done...

It was never about the street style.

It was always

ALWAYS

about Kazuki

And that makes a lot of sense.

Kazuki spends this entire episode being an apple. Taiga hates apples. Kazuki is a personification of something Taiga hates. But it changes nothing. He loves him. HE LOVES HIM. 

I always questioned whether Taiga’s feelings for Kazuki were pure admiration or true love. And now I know the answer. Probably both. 

So this ends what I know to be King of Prism SSS Part 1, as per the theatrical release. 

Next week is Kakeru and also the beginning of what I know as SSS Part 2. 

I don’t want to de-hype you guys that much, but I actually feel the Part 2 episodes are a good deal more low key than Part 1. But then again that doesn’t say that much for the King of Prism standard.  

I have been looking forward to Kakeru’s episode being released with subs for the sole reason of finally being able to clarify a lot of things I didn’t understand about it. But after seeing the subs this week. HMMM. 

[nobigsecrets]

Last Line Tag

I’ve been tagged by my wonderful friends @five-wow and @cowandcalf for the Last Line tag meme. Thanks to both of you!

The thing is, I haven’t written anything since I finished and posted Runaway and, looking at my WIPs, I have no idea what the last thing was that I might have written before that. 🤔

So in hope to maybe get some inspiration to continue one of these, I’ll post an overview of my WIPs with not just the last line but the last paragraph or so and some context. Unsurprisingly, these are all H50 fics. 😊

“I know that, Danny. Seriously, I know that. And I appreciate it, but sometimes it feels like all I do is take from you—“

“Are you kidding? What’s the matter with you? You were there, in Columbia, after Colombia. After Matty died, you wouldn’t leave me alone. You saved my life, more than once, most recently here,” Danny paused briefly and pointed at his chest where a bullet had torn a hole into his lung only a year ago. “Last month, Grace’s accident, you were there—“

Legacy verse---the one where Steve and Danny go back to Montana and Steve finds some hints that Joe might have been in love with John---which makes him realize he needs to do something about his own feelings for Danny. First draft of chapter one is almost done with 2.5k words; the outline for chapter two is 2k words; chapter three will need to be a conclusion for which I don’t have an idea yet.

Danny’s eyes go wide, until his brain catches on and his heart skips a beat. Arousal is one reason for it, despite the fact that he’s just come down Steve’s throat, but the far bigger reason, the part that bowls him over is the want in Steve’s voice, the sheer need in his eyes. The trust that he lays in Danny, the fact that he’s handing over control, making himself vulnerable, laying it like a gift at Danny’s feet.

Smut fic---since there will be no plot, I don’t think I need to give any context here... this is currently at 600 words.

“There comes Charlie and his dads,” Danny can hear someone say through the open door from where a group of people is gathered inside a classroom. Presumably, it’s Charlie’s teacher who they talked to yesterday, and who is responsible for them being here in the first place.

“Great,” Danny says, looking at Steve over Charlie’s head. “Now everyone thinks we’re a gay couple.”

“Guess you’re off the market today, Danno,” Steve says and winks at him, the asshole.

Spring cleaning---the one where Steve and Danny get roped into helping with the spring cleaning at Charlie’s daycare. I wrote about 1k words, and then left it there without any notes on how I meant to continue. I know I had an idea, but I can’t really remember... d’oh!

“You weren’t drunk,” Danny says apropos of nothing, while they are stuck in traffic.

“What? When?” Steve is busy watching the road, debating internally if it’s worth to change lanes, and looks over at Danny briefly.

“That night. You weren’t drunk,” Danny says again, but it sounds like a question, and he fiddles with his phone, not looking at Steve.

That night.

That night, two weeks ago.

Steve catches on and his stomach plummets. He had expected Danny to bring this up, had expected this way earlier than today, and still he’s caught completely off guard.

Unrequited---the one where Steve is head over heels in love with Danny, only Danny is not in love with Steve. Actually I’m thinking more of a slow-burn here, with Danny taking a very long time to come to terms with his feelings. I have no idea on the word count, because I have made several attempts at writing a beginning for this and outlining it, and there are bits and pieces scattered in several files. I might even have posted this snippet before.

“So were you gonna propose or just asking permission to kiss me?” Danny’s tone is light, teasing, but Steve has an idea how much courage these words must have cost him. He feels his heart beating rapidly, he’s more nervous right now than before any op. But he’s no coward either, so he says “Shut up, Danno,” and leans in for a kiss.

It’s only a touch at first, soft lips and rough stubble and an excitement that is familiar and yet completely new at the same time. He stops and pulls back a fraction of an inch, waits for a reaction from Danny, giving him room to back out, but instead Danny moves in, rubs his hand firmly along Steve’s thigh and presses his mouth back onto Steve’s.

Christmas fic---the one I didn’t finish last year, and that I probably shouldn’t put off for too long if I want to have it ready this year’s christmas. It’s gonna be a coda to 8x11 and it’s currently at 2k words.

[lacklusterswirl]

Ash x Ceil fic? I suggested it earlier in a different context :P

“Am I taking requests?” Kinda… if you send it in I’ll write it eventually… but I do prefer angst most of the time soooo :p

For those that don’t know, Ciel is an OC who’s technically from an original story of mine, but sometimes shows up in R6 stuff I write just cause he’s also JTF 2.

.

This time, it was Ciel who asked for help, and Rainbow answered. Ash hadn’t seen him since Buck and Frost were first recruited, and when they… well, just leave it the fact that they know each other. But for a budding romance that was already so slow to start, she doesn’t know if he would ever be interested in someone like her for more than just a one night stand. She was intense, stuck-up, and just had to be in control, and he was trying to keep himself from falling back into a similar pattern. And for good reason. Uncertainty tends to kill romance, and she thinks she sees that here too.

Warnings: Mentions of injuring, gunfights, cannon typical violence. (~2.4k words)

“You again?”

Ciel looked away from the blueprints of the building they were preparing to infiltrate. There were strings and pins around the map like he had spent hours on it, but they weren’t the focus of his attention anymore. “You’re part of a Canadian op. Who else were you expecting?”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” another man bumped into her as he went to stand by Ciel. No doubt, despite the impressive stripes on the newer man’s shoulder, Ciel was still higher rank. He always had to be on top, that bastard. He wasn’t even in his fucking uniform, the slob.

As if he read her mind, he looked up and smirked. “Do you plan on joining us anytime soon?”

Ash rolled her eyes and stepped in to take a closer look at the pins. “Sledge and Blitz will be here soon. They had to stop by and get some kind of special badge to walk around.”

“And you made it here first?” The stranger chimed in. His name tag said Millier though, so that must’ve been his last name.

Ciel smirked and looked back up at his own pins. “Ne sois pas méchant. She’s a guest.” Ash just rolled her eyes.

During the briefing, Ciel was calm and didn’t seem to make a big deal out of the op. It was simple. Go in, clear, and get out. No secondary objectives or anything. However, a simple op like that wasn’t why you called in an international org like Rainbow. All these thoughts were over ridden the entire time though because Ash swore that he was making fun of her for something. His eyes seemed to stay on her for a moment longer than the others, and it made her wonder if he was trying to tell her something more subtle. So, afterwards, she stayed behind.

“Something wrong, Ash?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I’ve never been better, thanks for asking.” He took a seat on the table so one leg was off the other ground, but the other was still touching the floor. Even now, he seemed in control. As he always was. From the moment she met him to now, this was always how he was.

“There’s nothing else?” She didn’t misread him. For how guarded he was, his patterns were quite simple. “I know you, you know?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to come out around town with me and Millier tomorrow. Bring your team if you’d like. I know Millier wants to hear about your work.”

“So, this has nothing to do with Buck?”

Ciel gave that coy smile to show that she was right. “I figured that if you didn’t want to tell me, that it wouldn’t be an answer I wanted to hear. You do make the teams after all, eh?”

“Buck… well, he’s moved on.”

“And Frost?”

“She’s doing well, if that’s what you want to know. Knows her way around a mission, and is always a comfort to have on your side. She’s fine as well. They aren’t concerns of Rainbow.”

He made some vague agreeing sound. “And you?” Those green eyes settled on her, and she almost felt uncomfortable.

“I’m well. Nothing new has happened, though I was surprised to hear that you called in help this time. Pulling favours? Must be important. You didn’t sound so stressed when you were talking.”

“I can’t disclose much. But know that your organization’s presence here is very welcomed.”

And by the tone of his voice, he meant it.

You don’t send in two higher ranking officers, one of whom was a legend, and three Rainbow ops for just any mission. And so, this was about what Ash expected. They were engaged in heavy fire from the moment they were deployed. Ash looked over at where Sledge was taking shots through the side door and giving a short report every time one went down.

Blitz was with the Canadian ops while they were going straight through the front door, and from the sound of things, they already made their entry. This wasn’t good. They were meant to enter at the same time, but Ash and Sledge were still posted at their door, unable to set foot in the house.

“Lobby clear, but footsteps are approaching from upstairs— CONTACT!” Ciel’s breathy voice broke her away for a quick moment until bullets flew at her again. She nodded at Sledge, they couldn’t fall any further behind. Together, she and Sledge broke into the kitchen and started clearing enemies who were fleeing from Ciel’s team down the stairs and into their waiting crosshairs.

An explosion sounded from above them, and Ash had to take cover from the bullets raining from above. She glanced over at Sledge but saw him testing his left hand.

“Sledge?”

“Grazed my arm when I was breaking down the door. Starting to feel it now.”

“Shit… Stay safe, we’re almost done. Let me know if it gets too bad.”

He nodded and they turned around the corner to take out the last few terrorists in the room.

“This is Ash, we’re going downstairs.”

“Copy.” That was Millier. Why was he the one responding?

“Ash, what are you waiting for? Count me down,” Sledge hissed. Ash nodded and counted them down. The moment they landed, they immediately went back to back as they cleared out the room. Out the room and taking a corner put them in a good position to take out a few without direct engagement.

“This is Mil reporting, top floor is cleared, but Ciel got thrown in the blast from earlier.”

Ash’s heart stopped.

“He’ll be ok, just a little shaken.”

She sighed, relieved, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why it mattered so much. It wasn’t like she could do anything about it now either. She and Sledge had to continue their assault.

When it was all done, and Ciel was safely extracted, there was a tense silence on the plane. Ciel had his eyes closed, trying to block out all sound, while Millier was preparing dressings and ice packs. As for Rainbow, Blitz and Sledge were staring at Ash, expecting an outburst. That was her reputation after all. She was intense, focused, too stuck-up, and hot-headed. However, she waited until debrief before demanding the whole story while Ciel was in the infirmary.

They were clearing out the master bedroom, and Ciel was about to push in when Blitz motioned that he would take point with the shield. As he moved forward though, Ciel must’ve caught something on his sensor because he lunged at the German operator while Millier covered them. It was unneeded though. The C4 killed the only terrorist in the room and Ciel had gotten thrown into a wall. Blitz was a little shocked, but fine otherwise.

“I don’t understand. I have a shield for a reason,” he complained the moment Ciel stepped into the briefing room.

“Your back was facing it, what else was I gonna do?” Ciel responded, taking a seat with a slight grimace. “It was calculated though. I knew the layout of the room, the number of enemies, and my own strength.”

“That… I—”

While Blitz stuttered a little trying to come up with a response, Ciel just smiled at Ash and Millier. “How was the rest of debrief?”

“Elle est trop—”

“Elle peut nous comprendre, Millier. Dis-le à moi plus tard.” Ciel gave Ash a small smile and nodded at the rest. “You are all dismissed. Thank you, Rainbow, for coming in. Things would’ve been a little hairier had that been just a two-man op.”

Blitz and Sledge both stood to leave the room, and after a moment – and a few seconds of unsure eye contact – Millier followed them. Ciel waited until the door was closed until he spoke to Ash.

“Millier interrupted earlier, but what did you think of the mission?”

“Why do you care? It’s over,” she helped him pack up the files, reaching for things that would otherwise hurt him to stretch and grasp for. “It’s a success. Congrats.”

“Oh, come on. I can tell you’re mad at me. And a little bit mad at yourself too?”

Well, since he asked for it. “You shouldn’t have gone upstairs. You shouldn’t have entered before I did.”

“The plan was set in motion. Millier and I are best suited to more enclosed spaces, and Blitz had a shield. It was the right team. And entering didn’t lead to any mistakes.”

“It desynced us.”

“It didn’t matter if we were in sync or not. That C4 was ready for us, and it would’ve been thrown whether or not we were synced.”

“The mission wasn’t perfect.” Ash slammed a stack of papers down on the desk in a perfect pile.

“No mission is.” Ciel grabbed them and packed them away haphazardly.

Ash glared at him. “Our reputation—”

“Will not be affected.” Ciel was counting photos, only looking up once to take in her expression.

She could feel the heat creeping up her neck, as she said the next line. “You almost died.”

There. That made him stop. “I didn’t… You know what? Stay here, I’ll be back.”

It took perhaps ten minutes and Ciel was back with a bottle of golden liquid and two glasses. “It’s to help you destress,” he said, offering the glass he just poured. “Drink it slowly though, I would like you to help me finish up here.”

“You aren’t in charge of me anymore,” she smiled around the glass, but complied anyways. God, she hated whiskey, but the soothing burn was a comfort.

Ciel paused as he was placing the next batch of papers in a box. “You know,” he placed his hands on the table and looked Ash directly in the eye. “Millier loves you. Not like… a romantic love, but he is obsessed with your skill and how you command your unit. He admires you. As do all the soldiers you work with, even the ones who don’t really show it. Cut yourself some slack.”

“Can’t get complacent. Not everyone can take ten years off from this work to raise a child then come back basically the same.”

“It’s not complacency, it’s called forgiveness. And everyone made sure to let me know that… gah, that I had… changed.” He made a motion to his general body, and Ash got the general idea. “Yet I had to forgive myself then too.”

She stopped moving her hands as she noticed he hadn’t done anything in the past few minutes. “Get your ass moving or else we’ll be stuck in here for hours.”

He chuckled, but went back to work. Another moment of silence passed before he spoke up again. “I know you still don’t like Buck because of me.”

Her eyes flew up to meet his. “I don’t hold anything against Buck.”

“Except the fact that I was engaged to him about fifteen years ago, and yet I still request regular check-ins with him and Frost, while I haven’t talked to you since… that night.” The way he looked at her while still organizing told her that he knew exactly what he was doing, and the reaction she wanted to give was what he was expecting.

“Is this how you work?” she asked him. There, he wasn’t expecting that.

He tilted his head slightly to the side and looked back down as he started scribbling on a new set of forms.

“Is my handwriting not neat enough?”

With Ciel, as she had learned the first time, it payed to be direct. He wasn’t one to be easily offended, especially if there was no intention. “Are you trying to get me to be one of those girls and boys for you?”

“… One of those girls and boys? You make me sound like I’m constantly hooking up with people.”

“…Aren’t you?” She gave him an even look. For how responsible he was in every endeavor he took, relationships were not one of them.

“Not constantly. No one can do it that often. I certainly can’t. I am getting older,” he smirked, finally standing up and placing the last pile in the box. “You know me. If you want something, it’s best just to ask.”

“I don’t want to be just another one-night stand for you again.”

“You don’t have to be, I mean, you’re already moving onto a two-night status, aren’t you?” He picked up the box with a quiet huff and started to turn away before freezing in place to face her once more.

“I think I get what’s wrong,” he murmured. “You think that I think that you’re easy. And that I don’t respect you.”

Ash stared back, refusing to give anything away, which, in itself, was a giveaway.

“Eliza…” Him saying her real name was… it was bringing back memories she’d rather leave alone. “I won’t judge you for who you sleep and don’t sleep with, and I know you like to stress over the things you don’t know, but… don’t think of me as someone you need to stress over. That’s the last thing I want to be to you.”

“Then how about tonight, Skye? I know you have to check with Iris first, but after… well, I haven’t been in Toronto before.”

He flashed her a smile that practically glowed. “It would be my pleasure. Just don’t make fun of me too much when I get stiff. Age is unpredictable. So are nitro’s.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop ignoring my requests to put operators in your missions?”

“Not a chance!” He spun and leaned against the door with his back. “Knowing you, you’ll outdo too many of my newer soldiers, and they’ll never gain any leadership experience working with you. Ask again when I’m in charge, then I’ll consider it.” Ash was shaking her head at him. “What? You’re too good for some of them!”

“What a jealous old man,” she shook her head.

“Oh, come off it now, I can’t be that much older than you, right?”

“Aren’t you like fifty?”

“F-” his eyebrows furrowed. “Fifty? What did Buck tell you? I’m the same age as him!” She chuckled, and he let the mock frown change into a more satisfied smile. “Come knock on my office when you’re ready.”

“See you then.”

The door closed behind him, and she turned to back her gadget. The bastard always tried to get her to fucking relax, and it worked every time. As long as she didn’t see her operators with this blush, she was sure she could save face. Or not. What were they going to say to her anyways?

[queennsansa]

Returning the great ask! I'd love to see you make mini playlists (3-5 songs) for the following: Buffy/Giles. Thor/Loki. Gamorrah/Nebula. There's a theme (families despite the blood relations) :D

Oooh love these! I hurt myself picking some of these songs in the context of these characters. Heavy focus on the angst here, you know me.

BUFFY/GILES

For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti - Sufjan Stevens

If there’s anything to say / If there’s anything to do / If there’s any other way / I’ll do anything for you (…) Like a father to impress / Like a mother’s mourning dress / If we ever make a mess / I’ll do anything for you

God Only Knows - Beach Boys

If you should ever leave me / Though life would still go on believe me / The world could show nothing to me / So what good would living do me / God only knows what I’d be without you

England - The National

I’m in a Los Angeles cathedral / Minor singin’ airheads sing for me / Put an ocean and a river between everybody else / Between everything, yourself and home / You must be somewhere in London / You must be loving your life in the rain

The Fray - How To Save A Life

Some sort of window to your right / As he goes left and you stay right / Between the lines of fear and blame / You begin to wonder why you came (…) Lay down a list of what is wrong / The things you’ve told him all along / And pray to God he hears you

Adia - Sarah McLachlan

Adia, I do believe I failed you / Adia, I know I’ve let you down / Don’t you know I tried so hard / To love you in my way? (…) Cause we are born innocent / Believe me, Adia / We are still innocent / It’s easy, we all falter / Does it matter?

Ghosts That We Knew - Mumford and Sons

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light / ‘Cause oh that gave me such a fright / But I will hold as long as you like / Just promise me we’ll be alright / And the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view / And we’ll live a long life

THOR/LOKI

Crying Lightning - Arctic Monkeys

Your profile could not hide / The fact you knew I was approaching your throne / With folded arms you occupied the bench like toothache / Stood and puffed your chest out like you never lost a war (…) And your pastimes consisted of the strange / And twisted and deranged / And I hate that little game you had called / Crying lightning

Running up that Hill - Placebo

You don’t want to hurt me / But see how deep the bullet lies / Unaware I’m tearing you asunder / There is thunder in our hearts, baby / So much hate for the ones we love / Tell me, we both matter, don’t we?

Broken Crown - Mumford and Sons

I will not speak of your sin / There was a way out for him / The mirror shows not / Your values are all shot / But oh, my heart was flawed / I knew my weakness / So hold my hand / Consign me not to darkness

I’m Not Angry Anymore - Paramore

I’m not angry anymore / Well, sometimes I am / I don’t think badly of you / Well, sometimes I do / It depends on the day / The extend of all my worthless rage / I’m not angry anymore

Always Gold - Radical Face

We were opposites at birth / I was steady as a hammer / No one worried ‘cause they knew just where I’d be / And they said you were the crooked kind / And that you’d never have no worth / But you were always gold to me (…) Yeah, everything goes away / But I’m going to be here ‘til forever / So just call when you’re around

GAMORA/NEBULA

The Mother We Share - CHVRCHES

Never took your side, never cursed your name / I keep my lips shut tight, until you go (…) Come in misery, where you can seem as old as your omens / And the mother we share / Will never keep your proud head from falling

Bitter Rivals - Sleigh Bells

I had to kill the new sheriff in town / She was gonna try to keep me / You go-go down / In a dream you will never be down / Heart’s so dark, make dirt look clean (…) / You are my bitter rival / But I need you for survival

Which To Bury; Us Or The Hatchet - Relient K

You blame me, but some of this is still your fault / I tried to move you but you just wouldn’t budge / I tried to hold your hand but you’d rather hold your grudge (…) No, I don’t hate you / Don’t want to fight you / You know I’ll always love you / But right now I just don’t like you

Troubled Waters - Cat Power

When people see me / They scandalize my name / I’m going down to the devil’s water / I’m gonna drown / In that troubled water / It’s coming round my soul / It’s way beyond control / I must be one of the devil’s daughters

Call And Answer - Barenaked Ladies

I think it’s getting to the point / Where we have almost made amends (…) And if you call, I will answer / And if you fall, I’ll pick you up / And if you court this disaster / I’ll point you home (…) Now it’s time to prove that you’ve come back / Here to rebuild

[k-p-p-d]

Make It Up to Me, II (M)

Pairing: D.O x Reader x ???

Summary: This was definitely not Gucci but it certainly would be an unforgettable birthday gift.

Warnings: explicit mentions of BDSM, D/s dynamics, kink negotiation, implied voyeurism/exhibitionism

Part One | Part Three

“That’s not Gucci.”

“No,” a chocolatey voice purred smoothly from a plump pout, “it’s not.  It’s Givenchy to be exact.”

Your eyes narrowed into an appraising glare as you took in the man stood in the middle of your doorway.  The first thing you noticed aside from his heart-shaped lips and unblinking owlish eyes that boldly stared back into yours was his height:  He was short.  And you weren’t just saying that because he didn’t match your Amazonian height; he was well and truly short despite the five centimeter inserts undoubtedly present in his shoes, which appeared to be custom Italian leather. Despite his height, he was of a rather sturdy build: His figure perfectly filled out the bespoke double breasted suit he wore—Tom Ford, if you had to hazard a guess—which peeked out from beneath his Givenchy overcoat. You had to admit his style was impeccable and his attention to detail, as clearly demonstrated by the fact that each article of his clothing was the same inky shade of black despite their differing brands, was remarkable. All in all, he was small, dark, and handsome.  Chanyeol certainly had interesting taste, and this… “gift” was no exception.

“May I come in?” the mysterious man questioned in that deep baritone voice of his that did not match his stature at all.

You shrugged and stepped aside, figuring it would be rude of you to dismiss and then have to deal with Chanyeol’s annoyingly effective pout. “Come in.”

“Thank you.”  He strode past you on his way to your living room, you mere steps behind him.

“So… Who are you exactly?”

The man turned on his heel, a pleasant yet restrained smile etched across his strangely soft features. “My name is Do Kyungsoo,” he calmly introduced himself as he extended his hand for you to shake, “and I am a professional Dominant.”

You froze mid-handshake. There was no way you’d heard that right. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was my pronunciation off?” he questioned in near-perfect English, the ease with which he switched from his native language to yours made your head spin. “Sometimes loaner words sound foreign in the context of a different tongue. Should we continue the evening in English?”

Was he…was he showing off?  Your mouth twitched in annoyance at his smugness, but you quickly shook it off.  “No, your pronunciation is fine. I’m just a bit taken aback,” you clarified, your Korean dripping in honeyed innocence.  He hummed softly in acknowledgement. This man was a conundrum. How could someone so small and so soft-looking possibly be the type to be assertive and commanding toward any partner, let alone you, the perfect picture of pride, determination, strength, and resilience—aka, The Ultimate Brat.

Yeah, no.

There was no way this was going to work. Chanyeol must have tripped over his own toes again and smacked his big head hard enough to dislodge the little bit of sense he had tucked  away between his Dumbo ears.

“I know what you’re thinking.”  He smiled that same soft, shallow smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he carefully shrugged off his overcoat, laying it delicately over the back of the wingback armchair.

“Oh, you do?” you countered in that same honeyed tone as you internally forced yourself to keep your eyes from rolling all the way back until you saw your brain.

“You’re wondering how this is supposed to work and if your partner Mr. Park really thought this through. How can someone who looks like me—short and almost cherubic in appearance, if I dare to be so boldly poetic—possibly be a dominant person in general, let alone in intimate settings, such as the bedroom?”  You blinked, careful to keep a stoic expression on your face despite the shock coursing through your system considering he’d just repeated your thoughts practically verbatim.  Not willing to accept the fact that he was a telepath (because that would be freaky—cool, but still freaky), you chalked it up to it being the result of him frequently being asked such questions.  He gracefully lowered himself into the oversized chair (and it really took everything in you not to coo at how tiny and adorable he looked against the large backdrop) and crossed his legs, tugging at his cuffed sleeves before carefully crossing his hands in his lap.  “The answer to your question is that it is exceedingly easy.”

A bemused chuckle floated from you.  “I’m sorry but I think you might have spoken to the wrong Mr. Park because one thing I am not is easy. So—“

“I spoke to the correct Mr. Park,” he interrupted calmly, “and he stressed that fact to me repeatedly.  Just as I assured him, let me assure you as well that I am more than capable of handling you. In fact,” a dark smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, “brats like are my specialty.”

You scoffed, “I am not just some brat.”

“Yes, you are. Your denying such a blatantly obvious fact does nothing to dissuade me in believing it, but rather just confirms what we both apparently know to be true.  But no matter, I still won’t have much trouble breaking you.”

Narrowing your eyes, you crossed your arms and leaned back against the cushioned back of the sofa. “I don’t submit to just anyone.”

He shrugged, “I’m not just anyone.”

“And why should I believe that? I don’t even know you.”

“No, you don’t.  I will admit it is rather unfair that I know more about you than you do me. So let’s change that, shall we?  Ask me anything you’d like.”

“How old are you?” you immediately fired off.

“More than old enough to be in this community and own my own business.”

“How long have you been in the community and had this business?”

“I’ve been a member of the community for eight years and have had my business for six years.”

“How have I never heard of you before now then?  Is ‘Do Kyungsoo’ even your real name?”

“It’s real enough for our purposes, yes.  I operate my business via word of mouth.”

Your jaw slackened slightly.  Word of mouth.  Had Chanyeol subbed for this man before?  You certainly wouldn’t put it past him and it’s not like such a revelation would upset you. But in that moment you felt pure jealously slice through you as you thought of your goofy, loud, precious boyfriend being pushed to the edge over and over again without even inviting you to watch. The bastard.  “Hold on. How did Chanyeol get your information?”

“I am not at liberty to say; but please know I came very highly recommended.”

“So he never subbed for you before?”

“Again, I am not at liberty to say.  I sign an NDA for the benefit and security of each of my clients.”

Your brow furrowed. “An NDA? Really?”

“While I pride myself on my discretion and most of my clients are comfortable enough with just my word, it has been my policy from the very beginning to have such agreements in place for the sake of my more finicky clients as they need something a bit more binding, shall we say, in order to agree to soliciting my services.”

“And do you already have one prepared for me?”

“I do,” he confirmed with a nod.

“Let me see it,” you demanded, stretching out your hand expectantly.

“As you wish,” he conceded as he produced the agreement from his duffel bag (which you hadn’t even noticed until that very moment) with a seemingly uncharacteristic flourish.  “I have six copies in total drafted, one set of three in English for your benefit and the other set in Korean for Mr. Park’s, with each party involved receiving a copy of each. As you can see, Mr. Park has already signed and I will sign after you do. But first,” his voice trailed off as he slid a sleek dossier from his bag toward you.  “We must negotiate and agree to terms. I’ve already had a very thorough consultation with Mr. Park and he provided me a detailed framework from which to operate.  However, as he is an indirect party in this evening’s proceedings, I need to confirm which kinks will be in play this evening as well as define and set your boundaries.”

You flicked open the dossier and carefully scanned over each word, every turned page leaving you feeling more and more exposed.  Thorough was an understatement.  On one hand, you were impressed and quite flattered Chanyeol had practically listed every little thing that made you tick.  On the other, you felt a bit perturbed that a literal stranger knew these incredibly personal and intimate things about you.  Yes, it was his job to know these things, but did he really have to know all of this?  And did he have to bullet it no less?  You took a deep, steadying breath as you closed the folder before handing it back to him.  “Everything listed looks good to me,” you said nonchalantly.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest.  “Well of course everything looks good to you, they’re your kinks after all,” he pointed out.

“Touché.  So how exactly are we going to do this then?”

Kyungaoo shifted forward in his seat, a wicked glint flickering in the depths of his sable eyes.  “Mr. Park made it very clear to me during our discussion you, as you so perfectly declared earlier, ‘don’t sub for just anyone.’  Well, I don’t accept just any sub, especially when it comes to beats such yourself.”  He held up his hand to cut your denial off before you could even vocalize a syllable.  “Don’t deny it. We’ve already confirmed you are and Mr. Park mentioned it at least six times in our consultation.  You are a brat, but a very unique one at that.  As such, I have a rather unique playtime proposition for you.”

You lifted your brow skeptically. “What would that be?”

“Suppose you were the Dominant partner in a scene, what are the top five kinks your ideal sub would have?”

You blanched. You were horrible at making decisions. “Just five?”

He nodded, the glint in his eye burning brightly now, “Just five.”

“How the hell am I supposed to choose just five? I can barely decide what to wear on a day to day basis! There’s no way I can—“

“Please, try to calm yourself. These aren’t the only five kinks we’ll explore in tonight’s scene. These will just be the foundation on which the scene will build.”

“Are you going to be my sub?”

“No, I will not.”

“Then who will be? Chanyeol?”

“No, as previously stated, Mr. Park will be an indirect participant this evening.  The submissive partner for this evening’s scene will depend on your answers. So, please, what are the five kinks?”

“Um…” Your voice trailed off as you lowered your eyes to stare absentmindedly at the closed dossier laid before you. Okay, you could do this. All you needed to do was ramble off the first five that came to your head. And that is exactly what you did after a brief moment of silence: “Edge play, sense deprivation though no blindfolds should be used on me, humiliation and degradation, bondage but not necessarily shibari since I’m too impatient to properly rig someone, and anything leather is always my style.”

His smirk widened greatly as he mulled over your list. “I think I have the perfect sub for you.”  He clapped his hands loudly twice; and less than three seconds later, a sharp knock resounded on the door.  Kyungsoo motioned toward the entrance, “You should go answer it. And no, it’s not Gucci either, but I think you’ll find it quite an acceptable substitute. After all, it’s Burberry made and very well mannered.”

—Admin Lily

[zachwritesstuff]

Digimon Adventure Tri: The Good, The Bad and the Ugly

I’ve been a fan of Digimon ever since I was 11, back in 2001. Though I’ve had a rocky relationship with it, I’ve always admitted myself as a fan of those weird little monsters and their wacky adventures.

It’s why I was so excited by the announcement of Digimon Adventure Tri. One of my favorite seasons was, of course, the first, and I was excited to see what they could do with these characters in a more modern setting, with them a bit older and tastes and themes in anime having changed since the heyday of the monster partner genre. Heck, I was even excited by the rumors (that ended up being true) that the season 2 characters would have very little involvement in the plot. I had long stated that Season 2 was my least favorite season, so that felt like the icing on the cake for a great show.

Having recently finished the last movie, and hearing the news of more on the way, I have to say that my view on this revitalization experiment is not as shiny and bright. While I will say it was an interesting thing to watch, especially after such a long time, it was hard to say if it was good or not. So I’m going to go over some positive and negative aspects I found over the several years it took for this entire series to come out.

By the way, as this will be talking about this series as a whole, there will be spoilers

The Good

1.  It was good to see them again

Let’s get that out of the way real quick. Despite overall problems I had with this series, I will admit that the fanboy in me did really like seeing new material with these characters I loved as a kid. Hell, I even kind of enjoyed their appearances in Digimon Xros Wars, even if that was the most pure pandering of all time.

I also liked their updated look, even though it was a bit controversial that they moved away from the classic big head/hands/feet look from the old shows. It helped deliver the message that they were maturing and would be presenting a different kind of story from the original. But with the original voice actors of the Digimon returning to join a brand new cast, it at also said that it wasn’t going to stray too far from the original. Different but not too different. It could work… Right?

But while we’re talking about the characters, let’s talk about…

2. Character Growth

With the maturing characters, they couldn’t really be the same precocious children anymore. It would seem weird to have this people in their teens acting like 10-12 year olds still. So they had to grow up in some way, and to the credit of the writer’s, much of it felt very sensible.

I think the strongest among them is probably Tai. It makes the most sense, as he is the main character. Whereas he was formerly headstrong and first to enter action before, by Tri, he had become more level headed and questioned his motivation a lot more. This made the series a bit more interesting, as it helped give depth to his decisions and not make it as cliche and repetitive that Digimon tended to be sometimes.

Along with Tai, characters like Izzy, Joe, Mimi and Sora also expanded emotionally, though theirs is a little less obvious. Izzy and Joe are shown to be studying and working in their fields a lot more heavily, while Sora is opening up more and Mimi is becoming more of a headstrong leading type. Unfortunately, since Digimon has always had problems with letting specific characters shines, their character advancement didn’t get much notice, and they weren’t given much room to stretch. Because of this, we only got bits and pieces of who they had become after a few years of development.

The ones that came off the worst of the original crew were probably Matt, TK and Kari. Not to say that they didn’t also advance a bit, but they probably had the least of all. Matt still was cool, and was just now older and cooler. TK seemed like he was supposed to be an auxiliary leader of the group, but with Tai and Matt taking most of the leadership positions, he was left with nothing much to do. And Kari, well… I think she said maybe 20 words in the first couple of movies, and mostly stood around and smiled. For a long time, it seemed like she would get no development, but she did finally get some storylines after what felt like forever. Which leads me to my next point…

3. Kari’s Importance

Kari has always been my favorite character of the Digimon series. She came during my favorite arc of the original season, and her character felt a bit different from the other known female characters, who were the archetype Girly Girl and Tomboy. She had weaknesses in her often recurring sickness (always unnamed), but it was soon revealed that she had a deeper connection to the plot, and possibly even revealing a much more perplexing story behind the Digital World and what it might hide.

Then… Nothing happened after season 1. They hinted at her connection to the Digital World during Season 2, including the introduction of the Dark Ocean involving her, but through the rest of the series, she just ends up being fodder for Davis’ crush and generally just being Another Character.

That’s why I was glad to see them actually touch on it. They didn’t go too deeply, but they showed that not only did she have a much stronger tie with the Digital World and Digimon, but she also might be able to go beyond, to communicate with Digmon in limbo and help those that might need help. I really do hope that they continue to dive into it and bring her whole deal to a head in future material. And speaking of future…

The Bad

1. Season 2’s Epilogue

This is honestly a little hard for me to think about, and it won’t be the only time in this article I talk about it. So let’s get it out of the way: I, like pretty much every fan in the Digimon fandom, hate the final Epilogue scene to season 2. It made no sense, it gave random jobs to people that didn’t fit their personality, and basically threw an active grenade into the whole shipping side of the show, making that a basically banned subject if you talk to any fan of the series. So when, at first, it seemed like it was going to retcon all of the epilogue, I was over the moon.

But just like epilogue itself, they give hints to it at the very, very end of the last movie. They talk about Matt’s desire for space, TK is now writing journals of his adventures and Tai’s change in career focus. Despite everything fans have said about it, they are going to stick to their guns, and justify the dumb as hell ending they made.

And you know what? I can respect that. They introduced that bit of canon, and for better or worse, they’re going to stick to it. They’re going to try as hard as they can to try and make sense of what was set forth for these kids future, even if it does seem like an impossible task. A really impossible task, to be perfectly honest…

Okay but seriously, they really wanted to try to justify this? It’s basically like badly written fanfiction. Everyone in the world has a Digimon, Matt is an astronaut, Davis has a ramen stand, Mimi has a cooking show, it feels like a madlib. Even the little hints they put in at the end of Digimon Tri felt like more like a mandate than an actual attempt to be inclusive to the original canon.

And if we are going to talk about the consistency, than you have to really wonder about the things they now have to retcon INTO the epilogue. Namely, Mei, and this whole Digimon shadow government organization. Where do they factor into this idealistic future? Sorry, I’m ranting a bit, but it felt like a big misstep that they could have easily written out with little argument, and yet they felt the need to include it. Hell, they didn’t even physically show the characters of Season 2, and yet they still feel the need to bring back the worst part of that season? It’s just dumb, though to be completely fair, that might just be my own disdain coloring my thoughts.

To be fair, it can work, and I would even be okay with them going in the middle almost, keeping some of the general ideas from the epilogue, but coloring them in a more realistic fashion. I think the big problem myself and many people had with it was how it was presented. It was basically bullet points that were presented without any context. If they do decide to delve deeper, I’m hoping that at the very least, they try to connect it to their characters and modernize it a little bit (I.E. making Mimi more of a media mogul than just a Cooking Show host, make Davis more of an entrepreneur than just a guy with a Ramen Cart). I don’t like it, but if it must be there, at least make it sensible, right?

2. Season 2 characters

So as you can probably infer from above, I don’t hold the second season of Digimon Adventure in the highest regard. The characters are no exception. But Jesus Christ, not even I would have treated them as piss poor as Digimon Tri did. Not only did they not even appear as actual characters, they didn’t even bother to update their appearances! I went and looked back at the scene, and as noted in the appearance section of their wiki entries, their silhouettes are basically just wearing clothes they wore in the past (It’s even noted that Davis is wearing his square goggles from the pilot of Digimon 02). They are then barely mentioned until the last two movies, where they are simply props to fuel how evil and twisted the villain is. Never once are they seen as more than shadowy figures, and the fact that they even lived at the end is a couple of lines in the last five minutes.

Now while I don’t love these guys, I do think that this series of movies was their chance to do SOMETHING with them. Either delve into their characters deeper and separate them from the carbon copies of S1 characters, like they were, or turn into the skid and really have fun with people’s perception of them,much like how Dragon Ball Kai and Super did with Yamcha. They could have really done some cool things with this group, but instead, they basically act like they don’t exist until they’re needed as objects to further the plot

Hell, from here, they could even introduce an interesting plot, on how they were literally gone for weeks, maybe months, yet none of the main 8 characters seemed to care that they were near death somewhere in the Digital World. That could make for an interesting dynamic between them, and even play into a meta competition between Season 1 and Season 2. But, deep down, I know that all of those ideas are just fever dreams, and most likely, any further material will continue to leave them in the background.

3. Some Adult Situations May Apply

When I was told that the Director of these films also directed School Days and one of the Persona 3 films, it was one of the least surprising thing I had ever heard. For a series who’s whole deal is being a “kids with monster friends” show, it does not feel like it was made for that demographic at all!

I can understand wanting to gear it towards an older audience. It makes perfect sense, actually. The people who grew up with the original Digimon Adventure were now adults, so wanting to make something for their sensibilities seems like the most obvious decision. No problem at all!

But it really is only good on paper. Looking at the history of kid focused shows being transitioned to older focused shows paints a rather different, and more ugly, picture. You get the likes of Ren & Stimpy’s Adult Party Cartoon, or more recently, the absolutely atrocious showing of DC’s Titans, based on the popular Teen Titans series (note: as of this writing, only the first preview has come out, so there is still time to save it, even if it looks unlikely). True, there have been some good shows made from kids properties, like Space Ghost Coast 2 Coast and Harvey Birdman: Attorney At Law, but it comes with the caveat of those shows having nothing to do with what they were originally based on.

On the subject of Digimon, it seemed like they were less interested in making a Digimon movie and more interested in making a Persona movie, even down to the final monster being a giant nude angel beast who’s butt is prominently featured on most of it’s shots. Add in the scenes of Tai heavily injured and covered in blood, and multiple characters either dying or going mad with grief, and you basically have the David Lynch student film that is Digimon Tri.

I think the biggest question is… Why? There was absolutely no need to get this grimdark with it. The people who grew up with Digimon enjoyed it for it’s values in friendship and teamwork, in the world building of this fascinating patchwork world, and in these characters growing up and learning. And especially in an age where streaming services allow for modern audiences to go back and watch the original whenever they want, it seems weirdly outdated to think that they would need to make it more “cool and mature” for the original fans.

I could go on and on about this, but really, I’m just hoping they learn that changing the tone of the story is not necessary. We love the characters, and we want to see them grow and prosper, not suffer needlessly.

The Ugly

1. The Grown Ups

Boy oh boy, was I not a fan of these two. Two government agents at the Incorporate Administrative Industry (I had to look it up because it’s barely mentioned by name), Maki and Daigo are the two exposition machines of this series of films. They try very, very hard to make these two likeable, but it just comes out completely flat and uninspired. Worse, their misguided development takes away screen time from more deserving characters, like Joe, Izzy, TK and Kari.

Their motivations seemed to just be “We’re the government and we gotta stop Digimon”, and they hint at a deeper motive for them. But the hints are extremely vague, to the point where it seems like they didn’t actually know what they were going to do with them in the first few movies. It wasn’t even until the second to last where we learned that, surprise, they’re two of the original Digidestined! And they’re trying to find their old Digimon! Or Something! I’m actually not sure at all…

Then you get to the last movie, and they’re just… removed. Maki is seen wandering off into the Dark Ocean, and Daigo makes a Heroic Sacrifice to save Tai and everyone else. It feels like it should be very deep and moving, but I found myself not caring much because there was never anything to really draw me into either of them. There were fun moments here and there, but never anything an audience could connect or relate to beyond “These two knew each other growing up and dated a little bit.” Though you can’t blame that all on just the general story....

2. The Movie Format, Animation, and the Big Bad(s?)

Pretty much every review of Digimon Adventure Tri has touched on this, so I won’t get too deep into it. Needless to say, releasing this story as 6 movies hurt it immensely. It caused the story, the character development, the tones, to all feel disjointed and hard to follow, especially with the long wait times between each of them. They were released over 4 damn years, and even as a diehard fan, I found myself struggling to even remember what happened in past installments.

Of course, part of their plan with having the big gaps was to continually renew interest, causing people to want to go back and rewatch the past movies, or purchase them when they came out on dvd/blu-ray. And this would have worked, if it weren’t for the fact that these movies aren’t, well… Really well made.

The animation wasn’t awful, let’s get that out of the way. But it was very inconsistent, and you can tell where corners were cut to save money. It’s no more obvious than in the opening, where half of it had fantastic animation, while the other half looked like a fan film made in Flash.

All the disjointedness and inconsistent flow didn’t help the antagonists of the films either. It became extremely hard to tell who was good and who was bad at times. Was it Meicoomon, who had this deadly virus in her that was going to destroy both worlds? Was it Homeostasis, who wants to reset the Digital World, effectively wiping everything out? Was it Dark Gennai and the who King Drasil group, who want to just cause chaos? I’m pretty sure ends up really being them, but it’s not really mentioned until after everything’s taken care of. And if King Drasil is really the Big Bad person he’s supposed to be, than why was he defeated off school, during a time skip? It’s hard to really figure out who the baddie is when most of the final movie is taken up by Ms. Big Butt Angel Demon.

Which brings me to my final, and biggest, problem with Digimon Adventure Tri.

3. Mei and Meicoomon

These two are a waste of space, and the perfect definition of a Whipping Boy type character. She is not introduced to be particularly strong or special. Her entire purpose seems to be to fulfill two things: To suffer in place of the main characters, and to be a love interest to Tai since Sora marries Matt in the future. She is shown to be meek and unassuming, not talking much and acting shy around other people. At first, things aren’t so bad. Her interactions with Mimi helping her come out of her shell starts to establish a good character arc for her, and it seems like she is organically going to become a part of the group. But then Meicoomon ruins the fun.

Meicoomon is her cat Digimon, based off the Maine Coon. 70% of Meicoomon’s dialogue is her yelling “Mei!” I would tell your more about Meicoomon’s character, but that is it. She exists, then she becomes evil and has to be defeated, while Mei cries for four movies over the fact that Meicoomon is evil. That’s basically the long and short of it. By the end of the second movie, Mei is catatonic, and Meicoomon is a glitch monster who is destroying everything. The end.

What makes it even worse is the fact that, even by Digimon’s standards, her story isn’t that original! It’s basically just a reworked version of Wallace/Willis and Kokomon from the Digimon Hurricane Touchdown movie (third section of Digimon: The Movie in America), of a kid who’s Digimon friend becomes corrupted, and they are forced to destroy them to stop them. The only difference being that Wallace had two Digimon, and his story was over in 1 movie, while Mei’s dragged on for six of them.

All in all, I think that there is still potential for some good Digimon productions, both for Adventure and other continuities. The films seemed to do alright in the limited box office run in Japan, and they were popular enough to warrant another movie being made (which was announced in the middle of writing this). I’m hoping that does better, but I also hope that it’s the final send off for these characters. Two seasons and a handful of movies is enough for them, let’s give another cast a shot!

Also I still hold out hope for a Digimon Tamers continuation. One can dream~