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isnt-it-pretty · 7 months ago

Note

please only read this if you finished cyno’s story quest!

I absolutely loved the story quest and cyno’s dynamic with everyone else but cyrus left me a bit disappointed… not in his character overall but in his actions. he had good intentions but took cyno away from his origins, denied him answers when cyno asked (cyno said he asked many times about hermanubis and the temple and cyrus always avoided answering him) and since cyno suffered under hermanubis it would’ve been his right to know where it stems from since he couldn’t recall… cyrus probably did it to protect him but he cut cyno off from his culture and people. Bamoun and cyrus owe cyno and sethos a lot in my honest opinion and cyrus still kept avoiding answering cyno at the end of his quest (cyno even calls this out) which just shows me he didn’t learn anything at all from the events.

he also had the option to try and reach out to cyno’s biological parents because they might’ve given him away to provide a better life for him (but I have to say as a middle easterner I’m tired of this poor parents give their children away etc etc narrative we had the same with collei)

cyrus also didn’t feel responsible enough for sethos after taking everything away from him or even leaving him behind back then even he knew it’s bad for him.

cyno and sethos both suffered under the actions of cyrus and bamoun and deserve so so much better cyno is a perfect example of ethnic children being taken in by white people and having their cultures and roots taken away from them. not to mention we know that cyno did maybe have a better life in the akademiya but he was still surveilled and treated like a lab rat and discriminated and isolated until he met tighnari

sorry for this little rant. I still appreciate everything cyrus did for cyno but I think this is also an important part of his very flawed character and ideals. in the end of the quest it even felt like he was manipulating cyno by showing him the photos which he “miraculously” found again showing him “look who raised and took you in”

Sorry I just saw this! First, please never apologize for sending me long asks, I love them! Also congratulations anon, I successfully had to log onto tumblr on my PC to type out this response lol. This is... very long, longer than your ask. I'm so sorry, this is the first post I've made with my thoughts on the quest, so it's going to be a bit of a ramble in return and probably not totally coherent.

Okay, so, full disclosure, I am super white. I mean I look like Barbie sort of white. That means that I don't think I can have any constructive input on the trope (arguably cliché) of middle eastern and BIPOC+Asian characters giving away (or selling, in Cyno's case) their children, so I will definitely defer to your discomfort with the concept. It's definitely a pervasive trope (see: Collei, Dehya, Cyno) and not just in Genshin Impact. It's something that is absolutely worth bringing up and thinking about, and I bet most people didn't even consider it, so thank you for voicing it as something you've noticed! Because of this, I don't feel comfortable talking about whether or not Cyrus should have looked for Cyno's parents, because it's very wrapped up in the narrative vs the damage of the trope, which has a lot to dissect and would be better done by somebody more educated.

As for the quest, I think I've gotta split this into two parts to have my thoughts make sense. God this is so long.

First, as a basis, the whole thing with Hermanubis is actually so fucked up from the start even before we can get to Cyrus and Cyno. I mean Hermanubis was an advisor to King Deshret, right? (Also that was two-thousand years ago, but he only died five-hundred years ago? Did I misunderstand that? Was he immortal? The timeline in this game could use an entirely different post because between Cyno and the Hearth kids it makes zero sense, but ANYWAYS-). Presumably, having witnessed this, Hermanubis knows the danger of Forbidden Knowledge and fucking with things that should not be fucked with.

After the fall of Tulaytullah, the Temple of Silence moved to the rain forest but left due to corruption, right? So you'd think they would have agreed on the basic Cardinal Sins of the Akademiya. But now, four hundred years later, the Temple of Silence's attempt to ressurect Hermanubis breaks at least one of those sins (tampering with life and death), and arguably two more (interfering with human evolution and/or attempting the forbidden and fearing none.) I really can't imagine Hermanubis would be happy with their actions. This is like the Akademiya trying to ressurect Rukkadevata (and boy do I have a fic I want to write that digs into those parallels of Cyno and Nahida.)

The very basis for the experiment they did on Sethos and Cyno is so unethical and corrupt. This killed adults so they thought, hey! It's not going to kill the children, right? Lets do it on them despite the negative effects (headaches and fevers). Bamoun's children even volunteered Sethos, which, again, is so fucked up.

Narratively, the quest didn't focus on this at all. It was never framed as something negative or messed up like you'd think it would be? I imagine it's because they didn't want to paint Bamoun and Cyrus as bad people or Sethos as indoctrinated. (What's interesting to me is how differently some situation are treated vs others in different quests. Arguably, Wriothesley, Arlecchino, and Cyno have parts in common that are condemned to totally different extents depending on the character, but that could be it's own post too).

We can talk about Cyrus taking Cyno and whether or not that was a good decision (removing children from their culture is never a good thing but we'll get to that) but we also can't really get into it without first talking about how the entire thing was absolutely horrid and wrong from the start. We're starting the conversation about Cyrus from a remarkably low place.

Okay, onto Cyrus and the quest. I actually think it's okay that Cyrus is a flawed character. We already knew he was super strict when he was teaching Lisa and Cyno, and we knew he was into some unethical shit since we already knew he was part of the experiments on Cyno, albeit not to this extent. (Also Naphis knows all about this so what does that say about him? All the Sages are so sus, but, I mean, isn't that just government?)

Here's the thick of it. Was Cyrus taking Cyno to the rain forest a good decision? I don't know. We just don't know enough about why he left and took Cyno. The quest didn't frame the action one way or the other, nor did it give the reasons he left or Bamoun didn't go after him.

There's generally three ways to frame this. 1. Cyrus was a saviour for taking Cyno from an abusive environment. 2. Cyrus was awful and stole Cyno's power for himself. I don't think either of these make sense, since in either case, I think Bamoun would have gone after them. I think most likely is 3. There were conflicting needs.

The one I'm leaning towards right now is that The Temple of Silence was desperate and willing to push harder than they should, even if it was going to harm the children, so as an outsider with a different perspective and more objectivity, Cyrus stopped the experiment. He knew Sethos wasn't at risk of being harmed nearly as much as Cyno because Sethos had a family there already looking out for him. Cyno didn't. People care less about a child who isn't part of their community vs one who is. So he took the child who was far more likely to be harmed, and left. Taking Sethos would have been even worse than just taking Cyno, imo, since it would be taking Sethos away from his family, whereas Cyno was already taken from his family. Bamoun realized the same thing in hindsight, which is why he let Cyrus and Cyno go. But again, that's just a headcanon about what happened.

As for the rest of the problem. While as previously mentioned, I'm very white, I'm also Canadian (I promise this is relevant). A bit of Canadian history here for those who might not know, Canada once had something called Residential Schools. These were boarding school for indigenous children who were forcibly taken from their parents to be "educated." There was a lot of abuses in them and I cannot over represent the amount of damage it has done to the indigenous peoples of Canada and the country as a whole, but the main reason I bring it up here is because of the way the government tried to kill indigenous culture through their children. While I don't think this was Cyrus' intent at all, it is a real world example very close to my heart of the damage it does to children to be cut off from their cultures. We see it in fostering and adopting children as well. Indigenous foster children are best kept with indigenous foster families when at all possible. Foster parents are told to try their best to keep their foster children connected to their cultures in the home but that isn't always achieved, nor is there always even an effort made. Mixed race families often practice both cultures with their children because know how important it is.

The fact that Cyno was completely cut off from the desert is wrong, and it would have been very difficult for him to face the discrimination for being a race that he has no cultural connection to. It's something Cyrus absolutely should have done more about. I mean The Corps of Thirty are eremites even if they aren't from the desert! Cyrus could have reached out to them on Cyno's behalf to introduce him to people who share cultural aspects (young!Dehya and Cyno friendship anyone?). He could have taken Cyno to Aaru Village (young Candace and Cyno friendship?) or at least spent time in Caravan Ribat. The only reasons I can think he didn't is because he was trying to keep Cyno away from the Temple of Silence out of fear they'd come after him (well intentioned but still harmful), he didn't think about it (obliviously harmful), he didn't have the time (willfully neglectful).

Cyrus also absolutely should have told Cyno about The Temple of Silence and Hermanubis, especially when he got a little older (although I'm for raising children with that sort of knowledge. Secrets only hurt later). Assume best intentions, he was pprobably trying to protect Cyno, maybe because he wanted Cyno to find his own path instead of the one the Temple of Silence laid out for him, but I still think that was a mistake to keep it a secret.

Cyrus is a very flawed person, but so are a lot of parents. That doesn't mean that his actions were right or justified, but it does make him an interesting character. It also makes his relationship with Cyno interesting. Canonically, Cyno isn't angry. He's already struggled and come to terms with who he is and what his power means, but I still think he and Cyrus need to sit down and have a long conversation. Cyno deserves answers about Cyrus' motives and decisions and they need to talk about Cyrus trying to protect Cyno vs Cyno not needing that protection, ways Cyrus should have acted differently, etc. I'd love to see somebody explore it; it would be interesting to see since it's definitely overdue, but I don't think I could do it justice.

I don't think it's wrong of Cyno to forgive Cyrus. We as the outside observer can say, "whoa, that's fucked up," but I don't think Cyno is necessarily wrong in how he feels. Like I said, he's already dealt with a lot of this already and is remarkably resilient. I think the hardest part of all this for Cyno would probably be Sethos, because that's definitely going to be a ton of messy emotions, but that doesn't have to reflect on Cyrus. It could, of course, and if somebody wanted to write Cyno as being angry and fracturing their relationship, that would be a valid way to go, but like, idk, I know a lot of people who made really bad decisions when raising their kids, and their kids still forgave them. Not always, and being a parent doesn't mean somebody deserves forgiveness for their mistakes, but I think it shows how resilient Cyno is that he bounces back from this so well. It shows his strength in his how convictions and beliefs, which is really interesting when compared to characters like Sethos and Kaeya (and man are there a lot of similarities between Cyno and Kaeya).

I also don't think finding those photos was intended to be Cyrus manipulating Cyno, but I can see how it feels that way. Since the quest was about Cyno, it felt like a nice narrative way to tie it together by reflecting on Cyno's childhood with Cyrus, but I think it really depends on how you view the entire situation and whether you think Cyrus should have taken Cyno. It's definitely a valid take and something that's okay to feel uncomfortable about.

This is where people might disagree with me, but Cyno grew up loved. He had a lot of challenges and Cyrus made a lot of mistakes, and love doesn't fix how fucked up it all is (lots of adopted kids are loved and still hurt by not having a connection to their culture), but Cyno has already accepted all of this and ultimately, he has forgiven Cyrus for his mistakes. I think that's what the photos were trying to depict.

To me, the entire quest does a very good job of using Cyno and Sethos as foils of each other. They're both paying for the decisions of the people who raised them, and neither are right or wrong, just different. It shows Cyno's growth as a person vs Sethos who hasn't yet found his way. It shows that neither Cyrus or Bamuon made the right decisions, nor were they evil people. They were doing the best they could at the time, and they both fucked up, and now it's up to Sethos and Cyno to figure it out, but they both still love their family despite whatever mistakes were made.

I hope this rambling essay length response is satisfying lol

#genshin #cyno #professor cyrus #cyno & cyrus #cyrus posting #em talks #asks #cyno story quest spoilers #genshin spoilers #Lupus Aureus Chapter 2 #Lupus Aureus Chapter 2 spoilers

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mapletine · 11 months ago

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silly celeb au concept sketches (wing photocard next week <3)

+ i have so many thoughts abt this au guys i need to be sedated (don’t open the cut unless u rly want more info bc. there's. A LOT. it will be a wall of incoherent rambling text im sorry)

ok first disclaimers: i know very little abt idols and even less abt modeling so!! if anything is horrifically inaccurate forgive me im stupid!! and also this will literally be stream of consciousness unedited so if it makes zero sense im very sorry

now we begin the madness

some background info: kite was scouted off the street (as he was walking off from pickpocketing someone LMAO) for his height and build, currently very sought after to model for many brands because he’s literally the same as the sketch models on paper so the designers don’t have to compromise on their clothing designs to fit the model, bc he just. looks exactly like the paper sketch. also the white hair is very distinctive!! and his prep/management team is his research team <3 he’s currently the face of several brands, including the zoldyck brand (i see the zoldycks as a very influential family in the fashion/modeling industry, kikyo was a former model until an accident, now she’s focusing on designing, all the kids are involved in the industry somehow, illumi is within the same agency (?is that how modeling works) as kite). he’s in his mid-twenties ish and hes 6'3" - 6'4" (190 - 193 cm)

wing and his idol group debuted a couple years ago (haven’t thought too much about the members, but im thinkin feitan maybe? kurapika?? shalnark?? idk guys maybe he’s a solo act) and they’ve skyrocketed to fame. uhh in terms of content they produce, thinkin something similar to wayv/bts type music (stuff that crowds just eat up LOL like love talk by wayv, luna by oneus that kind of music) and im thinking that wing’s debut look was REALLY BAD (they made the poor man blond) but when they put him back to his normal hair color he got rly popular. he’s had some bad eras where the stylists made him look a little goofy but… he’s good now (his best era was the mullet era). also he was trained by bisky who was a former idol who has retired and she's a legend in the industry… and wing is currently guiding an idol trainee (zushi lol). wing’s in his early-mid-twenties i think and he's 5'9" - 5'10" (175 - 178 cm)

ok and the main 4 fit into this uhh... i think gon is also an idol trainee along w zushi. and killua is currently modeling for a popular teen's clothing brand. i think i mentioned kurapika as being a part of wing's idol group but lowk i think maybe he's an actor instead. leorio is also. an actor. yeah ok there we go

uhhhh ok general thoughts:

i see them meeting at like.. the met gala or its equivalent and they meet when wing trips over kite’s clothes (he’s wearing something with a ridiculously long train and wing isn’t looking where he’s going), and at first wing thinks kite is super standoffish/rude bc he doesn’t apologize or offer a hand when wing trips… he just.. sorta stares at him on the floor for a second then clacks off in his very pointy shoes (he was flustered abt the very pretty stranger who just fell for over him. also he was STRESSED asf) (also the perspective that wing had probably didn't help bc bro was on the floor and kite was staring down at him from a height of like 6'9 with the heels)

afterwards there’s a bunch of pictures and edits of wing falling over all over the internet bc it was kind of funny… and ppl are telling him like “oh my god you tripped over yorknew’s top model the LITERAL FACE of fashion right now” and wing is like “damn i didn’t know also he’s a jerk”… and to kite ppl r telling him “oh my god the country’s MOST POPULAR IDOL tripped on you” and kite’s like “uhhh.. who?” (he doesn’t keep up with the entertainment industry despite being a part of it) and they both search each other up and they both have a moment like “oh my god i fucked up (also he's really hot)”

anyways they continue randomly (not at all random very much orchestrated by the people around them) meeting at things,,, there’s a very awkward apology from kite where he explains (sortof) why he didn’t help wing up… uhh stuff happens they fall in love and start dating LOL (i didnt think abt this part that hard) and for a hot minute there r paparazzi photos circulating of them together and the media is losing their collective shit

fast forward a little bit and they r like “yea we r together LOL” and then u start seeing kite at wing’s concerts in a spectator box staring very lovingly at wing on the stage and wing (and sometimes his whole idol group) starts showing up to fashion shows and wing looks like shellshocked every time kite steps onto the catwalk hes got kind of an awed stare on his face

ok future thoughts:

after abt two? ish years dating (engaged for 6 months out of those 2 yrs) they have an extremely private wedding with only close friends invited, and when ppl start noticing theyre wearing wedding bands (takes a while bc wing usually wears a lot of rings anyways, and kite wears his on a necklace and not on his hand) the media has a collective meltdown. again. (i am the media in this i think. i have meltdowns bc of them.)

um and eventually (around when him and kite get married) wing's idol group splits apart as they all go to pursue individual passions/careers, so now he's workin on his own music/vision. i think his personal music is much more peaceful and vibey than what his old group produced, more gentle love songs and poetic music and whatnot.

and kite steps out of the spotlight and is focusing on nature conservation philanthropy type stuff,, so he'll still step out and model for charity/fundraiser type stuff and he's the face of a large conservation foundation. (also bc sometimes he'll join like.. ocean cleanup initiatives or similar things and like. imagine ur volunteering to pick up garbage on the beach and u literally see like. anya taylor joy and her husband also out there picking up garbage or smthn. that's how the other ppl feel.) hes also a big advocate for no kill shelters and donates a shitload to them i like to think.

so yeah ok if u made it this far bless u!!! i dont really have any coherent storyline thoughts just this aggregation of random world building thoughts ok bye (btw if u have thoughts on this feel free to dm me abt them or tell me what u think in the replies or tags im brain rotting abt this stupid au so hard rn)

anyways im no writer (if u couldnt alr tell from this word vomit) so no fic but i may continue churning out thought fragments like this

#kitewing #silly celeb au

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dynamic-k · 6 months ago

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oki doki I have returned with another question >:D

I'm obsessed help-

Okay, you don't have to answer this question if you don't want to/don't know, so:

Is Madame Pop-Up going to stay a villain? Is she going to annoy Ballista like she said?

Is she even sorry about Chosen's trauma?

I swear to God if it's a no I will strangle her-

Will Primal becoming a hero change her mind? Or will Madame Pop-Up take it as betrayal and then become the antagonist of a whole Arc-

I feel like she wouldn't be one to do that though. She's more like jokey about it, if that makes sense.

Unless... Does she have any trauma? Does she really just like being the villain for fun? Are the villains actually even bad?

Have a great day! :D

-R

Finally done with this one. = w=’ Speediest answered ask in history, yep yep.

[LONG LONG RAMBLE BELOW~!!!] [shorter than the other one tho]

So. I got asked about one of my minor OC’s for Super Sticks. That is a first. A daunting first, but a challenge to respond I will not deny.

Typically, I try not to focus on my OCs, it just seems awkward sometimes. Unless, I guess, I happen to have put a lot of particular thought into the character and am happy with it. The more built the OC is, the longer that character has been created, the more comfortable I am with writing said character more frequently and offering the OC more chances to shine.

Yes, I would say that I prefer to write the main cast more than I do OCs. I feel like I know our dear and beloved sticks better than I do my own characters, which is strange to say because I technically know my own OCs better than everyone else-

I don’t remember where I was going with this. Maybe just insight on how I think or something- I’ve forgotten-

Anyway. Madame Pop-Up, or Poppy.

Welp, you better get your strangling hands ready then- XD She, uh. She is not very sorry and doesn’t feel bad. There was some mild sympathy and wince of genuine “Oooh, owch” when the building fell on Chosen, but- Other than that little moment there, she is generally uncaring to what she does.

But hey! You know what could fix that? A LENGTHY CHARACTER ARC- [*is cut off*]

Uhhh, I actually didn’t know how to answer this for the longest time, and I had to think on it for a few days. As I mentioned prior, I have a habit of not including OCs into very many scenes, and sometimes they are all harder to write than the main cast!! XD

There are a few OC exceptions, in which I can write them very well.

Jade, for example, from A Second’s Tale. He’s shown up enough times, I have enough plans for his story, it’s good.

Dune is pretty easy, as he’s a quiet stick. XD

I also, of course, have other fandom original characters, and additionally zero fandom original Scarlett works with original characters. [Aside from “The Last Veracion”, most are unposted because I deem them really terrible in composition, or they are incompletely written. WHEN YOU HAVE THE ENTIRE STORY IN YOUR BRAIN BUT THE WORDS DON’T WANNA WORD-]

Poppy is an eccentric figure. The crazy aunt, you might say. She can be a little bit of a sadist... and, uh, not in the silly “whump angst torture suffer on this fictional character” way, that I am.

Which does make for a good villain character! I needed that.

Poppy and Primal were really only friends because of Ballista, originally. Ballista and Poppy had known each other first, having met some time before Agent’s leg incident. Just around the time Ballista was caught and arrested for trying to fulfill Vic’s order, and Agent had already left Rocket with Hazard, Primal ended up meeting Poppy officially when the advertisement-wielding stick came wondering where her enthusiastic mini friend had gone off to.

They, Poppy and Ballista, probably had made plans for that day or something, I don’t know. I never needed to think on this too much, since it wasn’t relevant to the major plot.

Will she stay as a villain? Uhm. I... Maybe??

You know what? I do not know yet. It is definitely one of the things about Arc Two that is not fleshed out just yet, that I really should get to thinking and deliberating on soon so that I can ominously hint at it- XD

For fun of course. And also, I love it when the audience suffers from lack of information- /silly

Madame Pop-Up will definitely annoy Ballista, if a nice opportunity comes along. [I have some scenes planned already] As the plotline may have suggested, she is quite the cautious individual, an opportunist that seizes the right moment when it comes and shys away from things that hold too much risk.

A more covert villain than most. She doesn’t have too much an interest in pillaging and robbery anyway, just... teasing. She’s more of a bully villain than a grabby one.

NOW. Primal finally embracing heroism, and going on the climax of her redemption that I haven’t finished fully planning yet- THAT. THAT is definitely the sort of thing that would affect Madame Pop-Up, as the two are much closer now than previously, having bonded during Ballista’s imprisonment.

This is exactly the thing that could help along and switch the tides over for Madame’s own character arc, whether it be a full redemption, or at least an acceptance of what her friends’, Ballista’s and Primal’s both, chosen [*COUGH-LAUGH*] paths are.

Much of this planning still needs to be done, and some of it will inevitably end up being a spoiler, so I shouldn’t outloud plan too much on this Ask here. I SHALT PLAN IN A PRIVATE DOCUMENT THOUGH, I SHALT PLAN THE THINGS AND ALL OF THE THINGS- And maybe with my sister, or a close friend of mine, eehehehe.

Taking Primal’s decision as a betrayal, giving Madame Pop-Up the opposite of a redemption and instead, a full on RAMPAGE of villainy and anger and betraayyaaal, is also an epic idea. I may actually save that in my brain cogs for Arc Three as an emergency, uh, I-need-a-force-against-the-protags option? [And I’ll obviously mention the idea came from you hehehe]

:3 Currently, I have no antagonist for Arc Three, as Arc Two is going to be brought to a neat conclusion. [albeit with a big cliffhangery scene- *cough*]

[stop it, Scarlett, stop talking about Arc Three-]

But for now, yes. Arc Two is gonna tie a lot of things up at the very end, even with as chaotic and all-over-the-place as the journey may be initially, leaving us with an ending containing no extra or hidden main big-bads running amok. Sure, there will be small-time ones, of course, but not enough to be the cause of enough trouble that in turn would merit a big journey of entertainment whump-

Now, the reason Madame would not be the antagonist of Arc Two, is literally because there is a big bad(s) already. I just... haven’t yet... gotten far enough along for that to show very much.

[IT’S THe GoVeRnMEnT- *gets cut off again*]

...Ignore that “s”. Ignore it. There definitely is only the government and nobody else. Nothing. Shhh. I said nothing. SHHHH. Nope. Nothing. Don’t you dare look over at King, he’s not here. Sh. SHHHH. /silly

Technically, none of the villains I have made right now, are TOTALLY bad. Nobody here is like RedMenace!Dark. No one is COMPLETELY pure evil in Super Sticks. [yet-]

Rum I could ramble about. SuperSticks!Jade I could ramble about. The Alcoholic twins I could also ramble about. Mudd might be a little closer to evil than them, though- Not totally, but significantly closer-

Madame Pop-Up having trauma?? Now that’s a thought. Now that is a thought. O O

And I don’t have an answer. If I tried to answer, it might be a spoiler- Q w Q

Ehehehhehehehehe

OH I JUST NOTICED YOU SENT ME A NEW ASK!! AJHKJEHWQ

Just at the end of answering this one- XD Niceeeeee

Igoworkonthatnow, okaybye

#Ask Scarlett #Scarlett Post #Super Sticks AU

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captcutshaw · 1 year ago

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That thing you said about Bruce Robinson stating that Withnail and Marwood not having girlfriends, because they are poor. That’s really funny and it does make sense! However, it’s really noticeable, if you’re used to forced heterosexual references in buddy films, that women as a whole are never mentioned by the two, never mind attraction to them. The closest we get to this are pictures of women in their walls, but most of these are press photos of actresses. As Withnail and Marwood are thespians, it looks like their interest is an artistic, rather than sexual. And as you pointed out, the only sort of attraction referenced is homosexual. As you rightfully said, Marwood comes across as almost absurdly afraid of it, but interestingly never asserts heterosexuality to compensate, as many characters in similar films do. I’m a big dummy when it come to reading films properly, but it’s interesting that while none of these things alone make Withnail and Marwood explicitly queer (gay, bisexual, asexual, etc), there is absolutely zero effort spent on trying to convince you they are straight. If it took an interview to bring it up, Bruce Robinson probably just did not think it relevant. Again, the relationship between them is treated with greater importance. Of course, we are not sure by the end that it is completely platonic, and I don’t know how intentional that was (definitely was on the part of Richard E. Grant) but the point still stands. Sorry, this is such a long message, I hope it makes sense!

Absolutely! Thank you so much for sending me this, you've given me an excuse to go off on a rant. I've put some of my own ramblings and scattered thoughts under the cut. Sorry in advance for a complete lack of coherence.

Totally agree that it's unusual for a buddy film to have Marwood simply deny he's homosexual, then not show any interest in women to prove his point. No aggressive assertions of heterosexuality or forced female love interest, hell, no mention of women whatsoever (Mrs Parkin doesn't count)

I know he's essentially Bruce Robinson's self insert, hence Marwood being sexually harassed by Monty, who was based on Franco Zeffirelli, the director who sexually harassed Bruce Robinson (sorry if I'm just saying stuff you already know here). But yeah, Marwood isn't an aggressively heterosexual character, which makes him very inviting for a queer reading, among the various other reasons. I mean....look at him. Tboy swag off the charts.

I could list all the queer codings and references in the film but we would be here forever. Don't even get me started on all the ways Withnail is easy to read as queer. But yeah, in summary, I agree with your point that the complete lack of heterosexual attraction in the film can support that queer interpretation.

That's a good point that the photos of women/actresses in their flat could be purely for aesthetic reasons because they're thespians.

As for Bruce Robinson's intentions.... There was an interview where someone asked if Withnail was gay, which Bruce Robinson and Richard E. Grant refuted (timestamp about 21:09). Here Robinson actually jokingly (?) says he thinks Withnail is asexual because he only loves himself.... asexuality isn't caused by narcissism, but hot take!

So, Withnail was never intended to be homosexual. Which is crazy to me, what with... Withnail being Withnail. There is no possible heterosexual explanation for that man's behaviour!! And it's telling that so many people have seen the film and thought he was gay. But good news! Paul McGann has made a lot of comments about Marwood and Withnail being "young marrieds" in his commentary of the film. Also, in this interview (timestamp 6:58) he says Withnail was probably in love with Marwood. Big win for the gays. Overall, Bruce Robinson did not intend for Withnail and Marwood to be read as queer, but everyone say thank you to Paul McGann. Thank you Paul McGann

(Goes without saying, the creator's intentions don't prevent people from interpreting the film the way they want to. Death to the author etc etc. I've always liked to see Marwood and Withnail as queer because that adds another layer of meaning and just....makes sense if you ask me. Their relationship is compelling, platonic or otherwise. I personally found that it doesn't make sense for either of them to be 100% heterosexual, and asexual or bisexual readings are really cool as well.)

(On that note, not sure if it's worth mentioning... I read here that Vivian MacKerrell, the man Withnail was based on, was bisexual. So. There's that. Bisexual Withnail 2023)

#withnail and i #sorry for such a long read I got a bit carried away #special interest o'clock

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nitefise-art · 2 years ago

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Companion fic to my Zero comic, Part 2/?

To many scientists, the Great Crater of Paldea was a treasure trove of discoveries to be made and data to be analysed. This was particularly so for biologists. The Crater’s age and relative isolation from the rest of the region had resulted in the development of an enormous collection of unique flora and fauna. Or so Clavell understood. Jacq loved going on about biodiversity, but there was only so much taxonomy talk one could digest in one sitting.

Seeing the environment up close and personal once again, however, gave Clavell some fresh appreciation for his colleague’s ramblings. No matter how many times Clavell went to Area Zero, the sight of cascading waterfalls over untamed vegetation never ceased to put him in awe. How many million sunsets had those sheer cliffs witnessed, untouched, and how many more were yet to come? Surely mother nature took inspiration from paradise, when it formed Area Zero right in the centre of Paldea.

In that moment, Clavell felt small.

But only for a moment. There were students he had come to fetch.

The outer walls of Research Station 4 were more tired than Clavell remembered; although, in fairness, one could probably say the same thing about him. More alarming was the rate at which tera crystals had sprouted in the vicinity. Station 4 had always been subject to greater tera activity, even when Clavell had worked down here all those years ago. But never had he imagined that the crystals might threaten to swallow the building whole.

As the door slid open and the glow of the crystals streamed past him into the empty station, Clavell stepped cautiously, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark. As he had feared, tera crystals had invaded the interior of the station too. Papers were strewn across the floor, which itself looked like it was long overdue for a good mop. A cylinder lay over a broken pipe. All was silent, save for the grunt from Oranguru, who informed Clavell that he could sense recent activity.

The children have been here. Fine. As much as he wanted to examine the place top to bottom (it looked like something had gone on a rampage), he needed to move on.

But then, a grainy voice spoke to him from above.

“Greetings, Director Clavell. I was not expecting you.”

Clavell started at the sudden noise. He did not consider himself a man of nervous disposition by any means, but he could not shake off a feeling of unease even once the voice had ceased to speak. There was no mistaking that familiar timbre, and yet, why did it sound so foreign?

“Turo?” he called, slightly louder than necessary. “…Is that you?”

“Please do not venture any further, Director. I do not wish to endanger your safety.”

Clavell did not at that moment give a Skwovet’s behind about endangerment to his safety. Who was Turo to talk of safety when he had, presumably, just opened the Zero Gate to a group of children?

“This isn’t time for enigmas, Turo. Where are my students?”

“Based on my observations, the students are well equipped to handle themselves.”

And was he not? What kind of joke was this?

“I am sorry Director. It is time for me to go.”

“Turo, wait! Turo!!”

This time, the ceiling did not respond. Clavell stared into the darkness in bewilderment. He would be the first to admit that it was not uncharacteristic of Turo to leave one train of thought unresolved once his attention had been captured by another, but only to a degree. What could possibly be so urgent? Surely the students couldn’t already be—

Clavell’s own train of thought was interrupted when Oranguru let out another grunt and pointed at the rubble. On closer inspection, Clavell realised that he was not pointing at the rubble at all, but the previously unnoticed door behind it. This was rather inconvenient. Clavell’s highest priority now was to get to the Zero Lab as quickly as possible; at the same time, he knew Oranguru would not veer him off course for a mere trifle. With a sigh, Clavell did as was suggested, making a mental note not to be detained too long.

If he had been more prescient, Clavell would have left the adjoining chamber alone. Indeed, he would have stayed far, far away from the depts of the Crater entirely, if not for Raifort’s news that morning. Turo had always had an obsession with Area Zero, one that, in all honesty, Clavell considered erred on the side of unhealthy, and he had not been afraid to say as much. But in the end, no matter where their conversations led, he always left his friend to his own decisions. As long as Turo was safe and happy, as far as Clavell was concerned, so was he. After all, who was he to pronounce on the worth of another man’s treasure?

But despite the soundness of his convictions, as Clavell entered the next room, his legs slowed, his jaw slackened, and what he thought he knew were immutable truths suddenly threatened to collapse around him. The faint glow of tera crystals trembled in his eyes.

Before him, suspended in a vat, was the body of his dear friend, Professor Turo.

#pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #pokemon sv spoilers #clavell #director clavell #turo #professor turo #area zero #paldea #nitefise-art #my writing #zerofic #x

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hell-drabbles · 6 months ago

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Dreams are made of thoughts and memories

Belphie drifts into the Releam of sleep and dreams

Because 1 it lets him interact with his subjects subconsciousness (dream walking cause why not)

2.going to sleep sometimes let's him tap into little fragments of scenes that he thinks might be his memories of his true name and his experiences with his true name

Cause in a world where demons and angels can be binded with a call of a name

Names hold power here

Especially true names

Anyways

I love your idea of healer,shield thing and might incorporate it into Belphie

Also I feel like Belphie wouldn't be too taken Ra-On originally

Sure he acts like a lazier,cozier version of Mammon to Ra-On but that's because he is obligated to as the stand in of Belphegor because Belphegor probably wants a good relationship with the Descendant of Solomon

And like I said Belphie has like 0 natural libido unless someone else initiated it

So while he goes along with Ra-On's antics and libido

He does turn colder and disdainful the more often Ra-On finds him for sex even if he hides it neatly for Belphegor's sake

Because it may not physically tired him out

It emotionally does if someone is constantly trying to rile him up and sleep with him

Belphie is the type to want something more emotional out of sex if it's a long time thing

He wants good aftercare and cuddles

Not just the fuck and go Ra-On has

He wants soft moments outside of the sex

He wants to be taken care of sometimes

He doesn't mind doing the aftercare himself but he does feel empty if he's the only one doing it for a while

Dante Anon

Okay okay, I'm replying now because I was waiting for actual Belphegor's design to be released aaaand... he's kinda boring to look at, face wise anyways. Does not pull the slick back hair well. Piercings are nice... and that's about it.

Good ol dream-walking, who doesn't like that? Anyways, a naturally zero libido demon such as your Belphie would definitely stump my Ra-on, because Belphie is going along with his sexual antics without any complaints, so naturally Belphie must think he's desirable as Ra-on does Belphie? And will do that... annoying thing of trying to change that, trying to see if he can get Belphie to initiate first without Ra-on having to be explicit about it. Because being explicit, in Ra-on's mind, is synonymous with "whore," and he's not like that! He can't ravage anyone on his own because that's bad somehow! So someone has to force him into it so it's not his fault when things go wrong!

Ugh, someone give him a swirly. He's so afraid of even touching the word 'consequences' that he throws it to another demon. And when he is forced to touch it, his rejection sensitive dysphoria goes into overdrive and now everyone around him feels guilty for it. And now Ra-on's horny again because he was made to feel small, weak and pathetic, kickstarting the whole cycle once more, and forcing all memories of his faults into the abyss, because other people have dropped it so what's the point of thinking about it?

My Ra-on had never made a proper apology in his life, at least his pre-character development version has never made one. The only apologizes that come out of his lips are ones that are made during a self-deprecation episode, or ones that are said in reflex to someone's anger. Outside of those circumstances, he has not taken the steps to correct a wrong he has done, he just ignores it and hopes that the other person will drop the matter. Ghosts it and pretends it's not there.

Anyways, sorry about my ramblings about Ra-on I'm getting somewhere I swear.

This all makes perfect sense for why Belphie would just be tired of him after a while, because Ra-on is unable to separate his own selfish nature from his various trauma. You call him out, and in Ra-on's brain, it's an attack on his very nature, and he's so hurt that he spirals. And when he spirals, he gets messily horny and now suddenly only sex can fix this, because he refuses to have a different way of making himself feel better. I mean, why bother? Every demon here is willing to have sex with him and it's so much easier than just, going to therapy.

So he must be pampered, he must be cared for, because he's been hurt and it's tiring. No fucking wonder Mammon loves Ra-on, he's so very greedy and isn't even aware of it! Imagine the lengths of greed Ra-on will go once he's fully awakened it and is not bound by the human chains of insecurity!

And it's no wonder none of Ra-on's relationships last all that long, why he hops from demon to demon. Belphie would be so tired of it, poor guy, having to slowly discover that you're no different than a comfort object.

#admin #dante.anon #oc.belphie(dante.anon)

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sluttyminghao · 1 year ago

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hiii alicia, i hope this is okay to throw in for the anon who asked about rb'ing? i just have some thoughts on this that i wanted to share — sorry, you don't have to post it if u don't want to, ik this kinda discourse isn't rly what ur blog is for!

the first thing is that the op doesn’t know that you have zero followers. the writer just sees that someone saw what they’d written and liked it so much that they wanted to share it, which means a whole lot with regards to morale of writers and us wanting to continue putting out the things that we work hard on? a like, really, just shows us that you saw the work. it could mean that you accidentally double-tapped it on a scroll through the tags. it could mean you were bookmarking it for later, it could mean that you started reading it but have to come back to it, it could mean that you finished reading it and really enjoyed it. but all we know is that you saw the post, and it’s nice to see likes, sure, but it doesn’t tell us anything otherwise.

second, reblogs give space for a reader to give feedback which is something so many writers love to see. if you enjoyed what we wrote, we often want to know what you liked! were there bits of dialogue that u enjoyed? was there a part of the story that really stood out to you/meant something to you? seeing tags or comments about how something i wrote made someone feel can literally make my day, and i know my happiness doesn’t rest in the hands of someone who stumbled across a fic i wrote, but it’s still really nice to receive anything, even if it’s just small, to say that the post was more than just something that popped up on the dash.

the last thing for me, personally (i can rly only speak from experience here but ik im not the only one) is that if i see someone interacting w my stuff, as long as they’re +18 and seem nice, i’ll probably follow them. the user experience on this site improves soo much when people follow others and interact with content the way the site was designed to be used? some of the best friends i’ve made on here are people i know because they were reblogging stuff i wrote or made or vice versa.

this is probably just a lot of rambling but i hope some of it makes sense — ultimately, i think tumblr is more than just every other social media site. it’s a social network and a content sharing platform, and for networks to be effective/for content sharing to be possible, proper engagement with things you enjoy is sooooo important, not just to the people who make the content but to the general functionality of the thing itself! - 🤸🏼‍♀️ xx

honestly, yes to all of this!! you explained it so thoroughly and so well <3

#a's answers #anons: 🤸🏼‍♀️ anon

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materialistvampire · 2 years ago

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Okay I made a joke post about it a while back but I have actual thoughts about the Marie Mizuguchi novel. It's sort of long and rambling and personal, so I am gonna put it under the cut because I just kinda went off.

This book was an emotional rollercoaster for me to go through, in a good way. Genuinely went from being hilarious to a gutwrenching portrayal of what living with severe C-PTSD/BPD is like and what it Does To Your Brain.

You cannot convince me Marie doesn't have something going on vis a vis Naruko. I'm sorry. Her actions do not make sense is this isn't true.

Like look there's no good reason for her plan to be, "I am going to be honest and specifically avoid lying to you and tell you I am a Musician and I haven't revealed my identity to anyone except for you." She could've easily told a different lie for the same end goal but she picked THAT ONE.

She literally CHOSE to do that. Why Did She Do That.

Literally waited until the last possible second to do it too. Literally had numerous opportunities to do so earlier but no she does this at the last moment.

Actually Insane about this tbh.

The moment where Wicked passes out because she thinks the GHC Prez has figured her out and then he's like, "No I just wanted to ask her a question about the festival" is a fascinating to me as a portrayal of a PTSD attack.

Fuck Takahiro Suou this is an anti-Takahiro Suou Blog.

She's genuinely so paranoid and I mean that as affectionately as possible. She really just portrays what the hell trauma that bad does to your brain's ability to interpret social cues and it Fucks With Me.

For the first two scenes I was laughing along with this book. It's actually hilarious. The bit of:

Literally Anyone: *Says something*

Marie: I want to fucking kill myself. I want to kill them. I want to stab my own eardrums out with a fork. I wish everyone in the world was dead.

It never gets boring for me. And then over time it goes from funny to heartbreaking so like, kudos.

There Is Something So Wrong With Her (affectionate)

μ throughout this book is very cute I love her. She's really just Trying Her Best. Failwoman.

So funny that her trauma is listed as "Sociopathy" in the game when that woman fucking BLEEDS empathy from every pour.

Literally she wants someone to understand her so badly but does not trust anyone to be able to and so sabotages every relationship she forms. Projects her trauma onto literally everyone and lashes out. Zero coping skills.

Transference levels are off the charts w/ her.

I love her so much and wish we got to see her in CE2 in more than the Bad Ending. Which this book truly recontextualizes in a fascinating way.

Get the vibe that she'd probably like the second Go-Home Club more than she did the first (insofar as she like, likes anyone/anything) but can't quite articulate why

She deserves to have a messy, codependent romance with someone I think it would do Things to her.

In conclusion: Insane About Her, tbh

#the caligula effect #wicked #marie mizuguchi #caligula spoilers #naruko morita #marie amabuki

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angeldcgs · 11 months ago

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stranger danger was very much real, and especially so late at night outside of some bar, and especially for a tiny girl with virtually zero self defense skills, and yet the alcohol had seem to do the trick of lowering frankie’s inhibitions enough to trust the offering of a man she’d just met. they didn’t even meet, really, no sort of introduction or acknowledgment of existence beyond him handing over his cigarette just yet. still, he didn’t look dangerous. “oh… that makes sense.” having never smoked a cigarette either way, she strongly doubted she’d be able to tell the difference, but a guy who cared enough about smoking to roll each by hand must’ve known what he was talking about. there was something somewhat alluring about the whole act, what with his delicate movements that showed obvious finesse for his craft. it made her wonder if he did everything in life as precisely and carefully as he rolled, and if so, it intrigued her further. “ok, good… i mean, i’m not against weed or anything, it should totally be legalized, and decriminalized, and all that— i’m actually doing a paper about carl hart’s work on drug use and legalization, do you know him? know of him, i mean— he’s an ivy league professor, and a neuroscientist, and he does heroin, which is really—“ an ill-timed hiccup cut off her long winded rambling, luckily for him, giving frankie a second to pause and realize just how much she’d been talking, and the flush persisted. “sorry… but anyway, i probably shouldn’t mix weed and alcohol and benedryl, y'know... i’ll start seeing the hat man.” again, she found herself mesmerized by his preparation of another cigarette for himself, gaze trained on his hands in somewhat of a trance. “oh.” taking the object in her hand, frankie just stared at it for a second. he might as well have handed her an ancient relic from a long fallen empire, because she had absolutely no clue how to use it. “thanks…” it was a lighter, that much she could infer, but it wasn’t like any she’d seen before, and she didn’t have much experience with them in the first place. “i’m sorry, i don’t know— i usually use the regular… the lil’… y’know, the normal ones. when i smoke— which i do! i’ve just never used the fancy kind.”

a stumbling drunk girl was no surprise, he tried to avoid them on account of not being too much of a drinker himself but this one appeared harmless at least. the worst she could do was maybe vomit on his shoes, at which point he'd usher her back inside to whatever table she'd been camping at for the night and hand custody back over to her friends. until that point though, her eyes seemed trained on the skilled movement of his fingers as they rolled the cigarette and that was no crime, curiosity or craving something could not be blamed. "tastes better this way." he offered with a shrug before he handed it over to her and fished out his pack from his tattered winter coat to begin rolling himself another. "just tobacco, i promise." it was a fair question to ask, one that he might have had a different answer to later on in the night, but for the time being at least it was nothing more than the basics. he slipped out another paper and carefully began placing a thin roll of tobacco between the curved sheet, fingers moving so precisely for such an intricate movement. his eyes flickered back up to the girl once more and then quickly reached back into his pocket to pull out a lighter, a rather fancy one he had stolen from that same girlfriend who taught him how to roll in the first place. "sorry- here you go."

#{ francis doolittle — thread }#{ francis vs. oz }#thcophagy

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skieystar · 2 years ago

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I'm a fan of Code Geass so I'm glad to find sites like these. It makes me think the Code Geass fanbase is still going strong. How does it feel for you about the Code Geass movies remaking the series with some changes? Are you disappointed about them or just think it's alright.

The answer to this came out way, way longer than I expected. Lots of rambling below! I've also been facing a technical issue with Asks, so I'm sorry for the late reply.

I like to think that Code Geass is good enough an anime to garner interest even now. Fans do exist even if activity is not that consistent (myself very much included.) The fanbase does have some fluctuating activity, and I see lots and lots of wonderful fanart nowadays!

I’ve yet to find an anime I love more than Code Geass. Although I watched it very recently, probably months before said alternate timeline movies were released. I didn’t quite understand what they were getting at with the whole ‘season 3′ thing.

I’m going to start by saying, quality of both anime and movie notwithstanding, it was a very well-thought decision to make an alternate timeline. Don’t want to accept the end of canon? Movies are for you! Not a fan of the movies? Stick with the anime! The audience is given a choice.

But the statement stands regardless of whether or not the movies are good. Now, if we actually consider the production of the movies, my opinion very much changes.

So, do I like the new movies? Above all, I am a fan of Re;surrection?

The answer is No.

Now, why is that?

I successfully passed every stage leading to Re;surrection with no contempt:

- Oh, they’re continuing the series? It’s nice to see more from my favourite anime!

- They’re recapping the anime? Makes sense if they want old fans to return to the series with ease.

- The movies are... different from the anime? Following a different canon seems... unusual. I feel like they suddenly backtracked because they thought of something ‘better’ but I’ll give it some time before I judge.

- The movies have cut some major events that heavily affected Lelouch’s character development (i.e, going against Mao, losing Shirley)? Alternate timeline isn’t looking very nice here...

- And the ‘season 3′ which we have been promised of for a long time, will actually follow the canon set by the movies? Well... I’ll just see how Re;surrection is.

And then we arrive to the movie itself...

I need to reiterate that it was a very good decision to have a dual canon, and I do acknowledge all the effort that was put into the movie and the attention it gained worldwide.

However...

My own opinion is that Re;surrection is not a good movie.

Well, I hope no one comes after my blood. But that’s really how I see it.

Re;surrection by and in itself? Great. Wonderful animation and voice acting. An adequately interesting storyline.

Re;surrection, compared to the anime? Bad.

First thing to address is that events have nothing to do with this. One timeline having an event--Lelouch 'staying alive' or any other thing-- that the other one doesn’t is not integral to my opinion. My thoughts are only based on story- and character-writing, character development, depth of plot, etc.

So you see where I’m going with this?

If the character development cut by the recap movies wasn’t enough, what I saw of Re;surrection was enough to show me how terribly ‘out of character’ everyone was. Cornelia, who despised Zero, teamed up with him with no second thought. Suzaku, who loathed Lelouch and made his vendetta his top priority, hit him with the “yeah no it’s nicer to have you around :).” Lelouch himself felt out of character, and most things his character stood for were easily betrayed in the movie, i.e “the only ones who should kill are those prepared to be killed”, leaving Nunnally at the end, etc.

It felt like the producers just said, “bring Lelouch back to life, that’s what everyone will care about, and we can just do random things with the other characters.” (I know that’s not the case, but this is how I see it.) The characters just feel so different than they did in the anime, like the existed solely for the plot.

The writing is also very underwhelming (again, compared to the anime.) The things that happened at C’s World felt so rash and had minimal explanations. Even the villains didn’t have the character-depth the anime characters had. Mao, for instance, seems like a much deeper character than any of the new ones introduced in the movie. It’s like, as with the rest of the cast, the villains were only there to satisfy the plot. Combined with the pacing that was all over the place, the writing feels like the aforementioned “bring Lelouch back and that’s all we need.”

And, finally, the movie as a whole just lacks the intricacy the anime had. Lelouch’s brilliant plans felt really watered-down, nothing like himself. The world-building was rather shallow. Everything from the conflict to the climax felt poorly put-together, with loose explanations just barely tying it up.

And, well, that’s only my opinion. Zero contempt (pun not intended) against people who love Re;surrection, and mega shoutout to all the wonderful fanart and fanfiction creators. Now those things I actually enjoy.

#ledouche answers #asks #anime asks #code geass #code geass lelouch of the rebellion #code geass lelouch of the resurrection #lelouch lamperouge #lelouch vi britannia #cornelia li britannia #suzaku kururugi #nunnally vi britannia #anime #anime movies #anime rant #rant post #i'm so glad I could finally let this OUT

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andilovetowrite · 4 years ago

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Webs and Awkwardness P.P

Peter Parker x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Walking into your best friend’s room to find out he is Spiderman is terrible as it is, but what comes after is even worse, when Peter rips your t-shirt in the process…

Based on this prompt

Warnings: A couple of bad words (Mostly from May) and a little suggestiveness. Supportive Aunt May, and flustered Peter ;)

Word Count: 1.9k words

Posted May 2, 2021

Here is my Masterlist, in case you wanted to check it out :)

“Hey Aunt May!” you greeted, walking into the apartment. She smiled, hugging you.

“Good evening Y/N!” She gestured over to the pile of books in your arms. “Studying for a test?”

Nodding tiredly, you answered. “Physics...and Peter is probably the only one in the class who is passing. So I desperately need his help.”

Aunt May laughed, pointing to his room. “Thank god he is still doing his work, with being cooped up in his room all the time. Not to mention being so distant after getting that internship from that Stark guy.” She shook her head, primarily to herself. “I don’t like him too much.”

You smiled, thanking her before making your way to Peter’s room, knocking softly. There was no response. You did it again but figured Peter might be too engrossed in making something. So you went in.

And you will never forget the shock that went through your body. In the middle of the room, standing half-naked with only his boxers, was your best friend, Peter Parker. But that wasn’t what shocked you. What made you gasp was the clothing that pooled at his feet. Red and blue. Black lines crisscrossed over it. But even then, you wouldn’t overthink about red and blue clothes. The mask in his palm,, though said everything.

“It’s not-uh not what it looks like!” Peter shouted, haphazardly throwing the mask to the side. It didn’t help his case because the second he threw it, a light red light illuminated the ceiling, showing the iconic logo we all knew. “I’m uh, not- I promise it is not- this it just a- Oh god”,, Peter rambles on, kicking the suit back so harshly that it hits the wall hard, making a small dent before it crumples to the floor.

You could feel your eyes widen, looking at Peter in amazement and then the mask. Almost comically, you come closer, observing his face and then shamelessly looking up and down his body, eyes zeroing on his abs.

“You’re Spiderman. Peter Parker is Spiderman. My best friend is Spiderman.” You say slowly, trying to get it into your head. Peter nodded, trying to judge what you were going to say or do.

“I-”

“It all makes sense now!” you exclaimed, sitting down on the bed, knowing if you kept standing, you were going to pass out or something.

“What?” Peter asked eyebrows scrunched up. Out of all the possible things you could’ve said, that was the least expected one. The most expected one was a hit to the face,, and maybe then you would run out of the apartment.

“It’s- uh- now I understand. How you magically got rid of your glasses,”

“I got contacts”, Peter interjected, biting his lip.

“-no,, you didn’t. I asked May where you got your contacts from,, and she told me you didn’t have any.” Peter looked down, knowing that story went for a toss.

“Then how you also got abs overnight, as well as your overall muscles”, you said, gesturing to his body. Peter became bright red but made no move to put anything on.

“After that, you would never answer my calls in the night. For a bit, I thought you were ignoring me or at some girl’s house-”

“I wasn’t!” Peter shouted, then looked back at the door to see if his aunt heard him.

You nodded, thinking of other things. “Plus, you never speak about the internship, even though it was what you did most of the time.”

Peter hung his head down, now feeling bad about not telling you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just couldn’t let people know who I am and then if they saw Spiderman coming into your house-the-they might start targeting you-an-and you might get hurt. I-I couldn’t live with myself if that happened to you be-because of me.”

You nodded, the seriousness of the situation hitting you suddenly. But in real life, it hit Peter. Well, you hit Peter.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME? BAD GUYS TARGETTING ME IS BAD AS IT IS, BUT THEM TRYING TO KILL YOU?! YOU COULD HAVE ASKED ME FOR HELP! I SWEAR TO GOD PETER PARKER, YOU WOULD WISH THAT THE BAD GUYS HURT YOU AFTER WHAT I DO TO YOU!” you walked closer threateningly. Peter’s eyes widened. No matter who he went against, even if it was Captain America, no one would be more frightening than you when you were mad.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, Peter mumbled, moving back further. He didn’t even realize that he was halfway up the wall at this point, his face touching the ceiling.

“Get down here Parker!”

“Okay”, Peter squeaked, jumping down with impressive skills. “I’m s-” He went to apologize again but was cut off by you.

“Come here”, you said softly, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, feeling his warm skin touch yours.

“Oh, this is nice”, he mumbled, hugging you back.

“You know how I would feel if someone came and told me my best friend died because of saving a city? Do you know how much I would stress out each night about you being Spiderman and fighting people twice or thrice your age?”

“Yeah”, Peter whispered against your skin, lips tickling your neck. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

You sighed softly. “But do you know how much it would hurt to know that you got hurt when I couldn’t help you? Just because I didn’t know that you were Spiderman?”

Peter stayed quiet, but his grip on you tensed up, clutching you tightened.

You pulled back, looking him in his chocolate eyes. “Please don’t keep things to yourself. Not with pressure like this. I know the Hulk or Iron Man might be there to help you, but tell me you’re alright. Just every now and then?” By this time, you could feel your throat closing, as you can feel tears prickling the sides of your eyes. Peter nodded, pulling you back in his embrace.

“I will. Plus, who will you come to to get Physics answers if I die?”

“Shut up!”, you laughed, leaving the hug but keeping your arm around his shoulder.

“So Mr Spiderman, how do you stick to buildings? And shoot webs? Do you make webs? Oh my god, are you part spider? Do you grow legs when you are outside fighting crime?”

Peter looked confused, listening to you babble on and on, but then chuckled. “With my suit that Mr Stark made. I make my webs. No I’m not part spider and of course not!”

“Wait, can I see the webs?”, you asked, curiosity blooming in your chest.

Peter shrugged. “Sure” Going over to his desk drawer, he opened it, pulling out a couple fancy technology gadgets. “Here, just press on this button.”

Gingerly taking it from him, you touched the button, not expecting such a light, featherlike touch to make it go on. Suddenly, a white stringy web hit Peter’s hand, jerking him towards you.

“Woah!”, he exclaimed as he banged into you.

“I’m sorry!”

“No probl-” he began, as he pushed himself off you, but one part stuck. His right hand was situated right on your chest, stuck with his web.

“Peter! Get your hand off!”

His mouth opened and closed, looking like a fish. “Uh-I’m sorry, you just- I grabbed onto the first thing, I mean, I didn’t try and grab your boob, oh god- I just-here let me-damn it, two hours.”

“What are you talking about? What’s two hours?” You asked, trying to concentrate on anything but Peter’s calloused hand on your thin shirt.

“Uh, I don’t know how to tell you this but uh-”, Peter looked incredulously at, his hand, quickly glancing at the ceiling. “The web takes two hours to dissolve. And I just ran out of web dissolver…The only one left is on the roof”

“Seriusly? Pete! You can’t...- your hand is on my boob!”

“I’m sorry, I promise, I can’t feel anything. Well, no, I can feel something, but that’s not what I meant! Um-”

You sighed, looking up to see Peter’s face close to your’s. “You’re Spiderman! Just pull your hand off or something?”

“Uh-ye-yeah sure”, he said hesitantly. Giving a couple small tugs, nothing came off, but then he got annoyed, and yanked his hand back.

Not the best decision.

Instead of his hand coming off the shirt, the shirt came with him, tearing off your body. Gasping, you threw your hand to your chest, covering yourself up. “Peter!”

“Oh god, oh my god!” Peter blushed hard, the pink going all the way across his body as he looked at the cut up cloth in his palm. As you tried to find something to cover yourself up with, Peter’s ears twitched.

“Shit!”, he whispered, running over to me. “May is coming here!”

“How the heck can you hear that?”

“Super-hearing…”

“Of course”

“Y/N! May can’t know I’m spiderman! She won’t allow me to do these things otherwise…”

You stuttered, looking around the room. “Quick! Hide the suit.”

Running over to his mask, you grabbed it, throwing it under the bed, while he jumped up and hid his suit in the small slot on the roof. Hearing her footsteps now, you ran over to Peter’s hoodie, but it was too late.

May opened the door. “Hey guys, you want some Indian for dinne- What are you doing!?”

You couldn’t blame her. It looked bad. Peter without any clothes but his boxers on, and your shirt torn open, revealing your red, lacy bra underneath.

“We-we aren’t doing- any-anything May!”, you half yelled, embarrassment flooding your body.

“Yeah, no, we are not- she doesn’t-uh”, Peter said, looking at my torn shirt as he quickly pushed me behind him, not wanting to show his aunt what I wa wearing.

“Um, okay. Kids, I don’t know what’s happening, but just, uh, use protection and don’t be too loud-”

“MAY!” Peter said, hands covering his face. “We aren’t doing anything!”

“Uh huh. Sure….”, she said. “With how much you talk about how beautiful Y/N is, I can’t believe it took this long for you to tell her. But maybe don’t sleep on the first date? I mean, I know you are 19, and it’s your decision.. ”

“NO MAY!” Peter said, glancing back at me, cheeks flooded with pink.

“Also, perhaps lend Y/N your shirt or something. Considering you ruined hers? And wear some clothes when you get out.”

With that, she left the room, winking at me and mouthing to Peter, “It’s under the bathroom sink…”

Peter groaned, falling on his bead, head still in his arms. “I’m so sorry for May! I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to- your shirt-”

You laughed, pulling Peter’s midtown hoodie over your ripped shirt. “It’s honestly fine Pete. Let’s go eat some food. And maybe after that, you can ask me out on that date you’ve been meaning to do?”

Smirking slightly, you walked out of the room, kissing Peter on the cheek and taking pride in leaving him behind in his room, stuttering a nervous “Yes”.

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

I hope this is good, and I did the story justice anon! Thanks so much for requesting this, and I would love to have a couple more to write since you all have such good ideas :) Until next time!

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker angst #spiderman #aunt may #tom holland #peter parker x reader smut #angst #smut #lime #confessions #peter parker x reader headcannon #peter parker x y/n

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homoose · 4 years ago

Text

Through the Smoke

Request: could you do spencer x bau reader where they aren't dating yet but they both feel for each other? where both spencer and reader are very closed off people and the whole team knows that. but after one rough case on the flight back, they're both just exhausted mentally and physically and seek comfort in each other. then spend the night at reader's apartment and kiss for the first time there. sorry if this is specific but thank you (:

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst with a happy ending

Warnings/Includes: typical CM stuff, cults, kidnapping, violence, etc.

Word count: 8.1k

Music recs: Through the Fire by Jake Etheridge and Margot Todd; scared by Jeremy Zucker

a/n: anon, I have no idea if this is what you were looking for, but this is where it went. It’s a generous rewrite of 300, substituting the reader for Garcia. Also this blog operates with the understanding that the season 14 jeid arc does not exist lmao. JJ is firmly in the “I love you as a brother” camp and I will not be taking questions at this time. Also, this is a reminder that my requests are open! send me some fresh ideas, head cannons, rambles, whatever!

———

“Metro PD and the Bureau have been made aware of the Believers and possible activity following their leader’s arrest,” Prentiss confirmed, looking out over the team mingling in the bullpen. “But taking Theo at his word—”

“We only arrested three. There’s probably more out there, but if they follow cult dynamics, they’ll break down on their own without the messiah,” Matt finished.

“Typical cults: you think it’s a cast of thousands when really it’s just four whackos sitting around in the dark,” Tara mused.

Prentiss smiled. “I think we deserve some decompression time, and Rossi’s kind enough to host.”

Rossi leaned over the railing and nodded. “And I have some top shelf wine picked just for the occasion.”

The team started gathering their belongings and heading towards the elevators. Y/N hesitated, looking toward the case file still sitting on her desk. Something about how this had all wrapped up just… didn’t sit right. Her nearly five years with the Critical Incident Response Group had given her an up close view of some of the most prolific cults in American history. She’d studied Jonestown, Waco, Ruby Ridge, Liberty Ranch; new cults emerged onto CIRG’s radar regularly. And there was something about The Believers that just didn’t add up.

Y/N began shuffling things around on her desk, trying to look busy. She caught Spencer and JJ out of the corner of her eye, talking quietly. They ended their conversation with a hug, lingering just a little longer than Y/N would have preferred. She shook her head to try to physically clear the thought from her brain. She knew that Spencer had been through a lifetime’s worth of trauma before she joined the team, and that JJ had been an integral support for him. Y/N was also aware that she had zero grounds to be concerned with any of Spencer’s relationships, romantic or otherwise.

“Y/N, you coming?” JJ asked, walking toward her desk. Spencer headed out of the bullpen and down the hall.

Y/N gave her a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a little bit. Just wanted to finish up a couple things here.”

“Well, don’t stay too late.” JJ pressed her lips together for a moment before adding, “Maybe you and Spence could drive together. He said he might not make it, but if he had some company...”

Y/N hoped her immediate flush wasn’t too obvious. After nearly a year in the unit, she finally felt like she had built some solid relationships with the team, and Spencer was no exception. She relished their card games on the jet, the laughs over too-sweet coffee, discussions about books and films and music. But she also adored the way his hair sometimes curled and fell into his eyes, his animated and rambling tangents, the way his hands traced over the tiny print of his books. Most of her adult life had been spent surrounded by men who would gather up her trust in their pitted hands and crush it on a whim. She’d kept her heart behind glass for a long while, but Spencer was slowly chipping away at the fragile panels. She was certain he had no idea that he was even holding the chisel; but just about everyone else seemed to have figured it out. JJ, with her hands clasped together and an eager smile, definitely had. Y/N smiled, too. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“So we’ll see you in a bit?” When Y/N nodded, JJ gave her a warm smile and headed out.

Turning back to the case file, Y/N pressed her fingers to her temple and looked over the documents. Some of the pieces fit together, but the whole case felt littered with gaps and holes. The tale that Theo had woven about The Believers seemed true enough— his parents were simply the suppliers of potential cult members. Although, she still couldn’t figure out the reason for the kidnapping and torture. There were much easier ways to recruit vulnerable people.

She flipped past the pages of written statements and read over the report from the warehouse raid. It was short— the take down of Merva was too easy. Why was he sitting alone in an empty warehouse with only two unarmed, sleeping followers as a defense? Where was the rest of the cult? Matt was correct that most cults fall apart without their leader; unless the loss of a leader was a possibility they’d already prepared for.

The burns on Quinn’s hands didn’t make sense, either. Why use the initiation ritual as a torture device? Shouldn’t that be saved for people who had accepted the invitation? And then there was the one coincidence that nagged at her the most: what were the chances that Theo just happened to be enrolled in Spencer's course? Why did Spencer seem to be at the center of the whole thing?

Y/N sighed as her phone lit up with a message from JJ. She realized she’d been poring over the file for twenty-five minutes, and she had to laugh. As the least experienced profiler on the team, what could she possibly see that the others hadn’t? She closed the case file and quickly packed up, grabbing her jacket and bag and making her way toward the elevator lobby. She paused at the glass doors, retrieving her phone and pulling up Spencer’s contact information. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a long moment before she huffed out a breath. If even JJ hadn’t been able to convince him to go, there was no way she’d be able to change his mind. Despite herself, she glanced down the hall, allowing herself one moment to imagine an alternate timeline where she asked him to come along with her— to Rossi’s, to the moon, anywhere.

With a sigh, Y/N pushed open the glass doors and saw Agent Meadows leading Quinn to the elevator. She pushed down the little red flag in the back of her mind. As she stepped onto the elevator, she smiled politely at the two agents.

“I knew you didn’t do it. I just knew,” Meadows said to Quinn. She turned to Y/N. “And I can’t tell you what a privilege it’s been working with the A-Team on this case.”

Something about the calm in her voice made Y/N uneasy. “Yeah, it’s— um. It’s a great team to be a part of.” Her phone lit up again, this time with a phone call from JJ. “Okay, okay,” she muttered under her breath. Y/N answered the call, half an ear still listening to Meadows speak to Quinn. “Hey, I’m just leaving now.”

“Are you still at the BAU?” JJ demanded, voice low.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. But I’m in the elevator,” Y/N answered.

“Listen, we’re pretty sure Quinn was converted,” JJ told her. Y/N’s heart dropped into her shoes. “I need you to make sure he doesn’t leave that building. We’re coming back now. Where’s Spence?”

Y/N took a breath to try to even out her voice before speaking again. “Mom, we already talked about this. I don’t know.”

JJ paused. “Is Quinn in the elevator with you?”

“Yep.” JJ spoke quietly to someone on the other end of the phone. Y/N watched as the elevator dinged to the floor of the parking garage. “I’m going to have to hang up, mom. I’m gonna lose you, but I’ll try to take care of it tonight, okay?”

“Y/N, we’re on our—” The call dropped as the elevator hit the basement level.

Y/N took a deep breath to steady her voice. “Ugh, lost her.” She glanced at Meadows and Quinn, forced a smile and shrugged. “Elevators, right?”

The elevator doors began to open and Y/N stepped out, surreptitiously reaching for her holster. She had just lifted the strap when she heard the crack of metal hitting bone. Her face hit the concrete before she realized it was her own skull that bore the impact. She watched as her gun skidded across the parking lot floor, the taste of iron flooding her mouth. “Fuck,” she muttered, wincing in pain and scrambling up off the ground as a gunshot went off.

She didn’t feel the impact of the bullet. She looked down at her body, expecting to see a blooming rose of blood. She stared dumbly for a second too long, before remembering that she needed to get to her gun. Her hand instinctively went to her nose as she stumbled forward, coming away wet with blood.

“Stop, Agent Y/L/N.”

She heard the sound of a gun cocking, and then another. She closed her eyes and ran through an internal stream of curses. Raising her hands up, she turned slowly around. An older white man stood to her left, his gun trained on her. Meadows walked slowly towards her, lowering her own weapon. Quinn leaned against the back of the elevator, clutching his abdomen and blood staining the front of his shirt.

“Surprise,” Meadows sang, a sick smile spreading across her face. She stopped in front of Y/N, sweeping her hand in the direction of the man. “Now, John’s going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Get in the car.”

Y/N glanced in the direction of the vehicle, a dark sedan, driver armed to the teeth as well. “The team knows something’s up. You won’t make it out of this garage alive.”

Meadows laughed, loud and unhinged. “Oh honey. They’re not looking for lil ol’ me. And they sure as hell won’t be looking for an ambulance.” Her smile returned. “Plus, I already erased 299 murders from the Bureau’s radar. What’s a couple more? Now, shut up... and get in the car.”

Y/N moved to the open car door, keeping her back as straight as possible and her chin up, refusing to show them any cowardice. The barrel of the gun jabbed her in the back as she lowered herself into the vehicle. The door slammed shut, and in a moment, the gun was back on her, the man sitting next to her in the backseat. Y/N waited for the car to pull out, still trying to make sense of it all. Meadows was a Believer? What did she mean by “erased” 299 murders? Why would she blow her cover to shoot Quinn? Did she think that he had figured her out? Or that Y/N had? If that was the case, why not just shoot her? Why wasn’t the car moving?

“Drop your gun, Agent Reid,” Meadows’ muffled voice penetrated the inside of the vehicle. Y/N’s heart began to race. John dug the gun further into her side.

“It’s been you the whole time,” Spencer deduced.

“Yes, it was. Quinn somehow figured it out first. Pity having to shoot him,” Meadows mocked. “But he can’t give me what I want. And you can.”

“What’s that?” Y/N’s brain scrambled to put the pieces together as she listened to the exchange. Spencer was at the heart of it after all. It was right there, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Meadows continued, “You and I are going to go upstairs and free my Messiah.”

“You’re in the heart of the FBI. As soon as the rest of my team figures out it’s you, you’ll be dead before you’re out the door.” Y/N hoped to god that he was right.

“Then we need to work quickly.”

“I’m not going to cooperate with you,” Spencer told her. “Might as well shoot me.” Y/N didn’t even have time to panic before the car shifted into drive.

“I have a better idea.” On Meadows’ cue, the driver squealed out of the parking space and into Spencer’s line of sight. His eyes fell on Y/N, hands nearly pressed against the window, John’s gun pointed at her head. “Now, what’s it gonna be? Because you can either join us, or she dies.”

Y/N tried to radiate her rage through her eyes and screamed, “Reid, just shoot her! Shoot her!” The last thing she saw before the second crack of steel against her skull was the hesitation in Spencer’s eyes.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned at the pounding of her head, the rhythm of her heartbeat throbbing in the space behind her ears. She tried to lift her hand to check for blood, only to strain against the hold of a zip tie attached to the base of the chair. Instead, she surveyed the room around her. A warehouse, lots of shipping containers, and even more men— this time armed with assault rifles and machine guns. One stood at the entrance point of the small area she was being kept in.

She worked through her memory, putting the pieces together. Meadows was a Believer, had been for quite some time to pull all of this off. Quinn wasn’t special, he just got in the way of her real target. Ben Merva might have been the messiah, but Spencer Reid was clearly just as important to whatever mission they were carrying out. Every twisting thread of information somehow traced back to him: Theo in his class, Quinn’s attachment to him, Meadows’ demand that he be the one to free Merva.

“Good, you’re awake.” Meadows strode through the space with a laptop in hand. “I need your handiwork.”

Y/N stared at her. “Is that so?’

Meadows set the laptop on the barrel in front of Y/N and then leaned down to cut the zip tie. “Besides being my collateral for the good doctor, you’re also going to help me access CIRG’s surveillance data.”

“Fuck you.” Y/N spat on Meadows’ shoes. “I’m doing nothing for you.” Her head rolled back, eyes piercing daggers into Meadows. “You should just kill me now, because this is a waste of your time. And I’m sure you know the A-Team isn’t going to waste theirs.”

Meadows narrowed her eyes and gave a theatrical sigh. “I should’ve known you’d make this difficult.” She nodded to John, standing at the entranceway.

Y/N spat again, this time to rid her mouth of the taste of blood. She steeled herself for the next onslaught, compartmentalizing every emotion outside of her fury. Her mind raced to salvage and scrutinize the memories from her time in CIRG, trying desperately to identify what Meadows could be looking for in the surveillance reports. The Believers hadn’t even been on the Bureau’s radar. The reason had to be linked to their interest in Spencer… a piece of information that involved both Spencer Reid and the existing surveillance data. A single grain that could bring the whole damn bushel down.

She heard a scuffle at the entrance of the room and raised her head. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of Spencer, bloodied and bruised. John dragged him into the room, throwing him down onto his knees in front of Y/N. His eyes tracked over her face and clouded over with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“Shit, Reid—”

“I’m fine—I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” he murmured. The concern in his eyes told Y/N she looked about as bad as she felt. “Are you all right?”

“I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known—”

“No,” Spencer interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. We all missed it.”

“What’s the end game here?” Y/N asked. “What’re they doing?”

“I’m going to be their last victim.” Spencer shook his head, barely able to keep himself upright. “I don’t know why, but I overheard them. There have been hundreds.”

Meadows stepped up behind Spencer, grinning at Y/N. “Have you changed your mind? I sure hope you have.” She raised her gun to his head. “Because if you don’t do what I want, I’ll blow his big, beautiful brains out.”

Spencer locked eyes with Y/N. She held his gaze for a moment, then tilted her head slightly as the gears started turning. The tie between Spencer and Benjamin was where it all unraveled. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Meadows’ grin faltered for less than a second, but it was long enough that Y/N knew she was right. “Is that right?” Meadows questioned.

“Yeah, it is.” She furrowed her brow, and Spencer looked at her. “You need him, don’t you? Alive.” Meadows’ tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Y/N was sure. “Because this isn’t just about Benjamin Merva. It’s about Benjamin Cyrus. It’s about Liberty Ranch.”

Meadows held her gaze for five seconds, then ten seconds. Y/N raised her chin, refusing to be the one to blink first. Meadows shifted the trajectory of her gun a foot to her right and fired off one shot. The breeze from the bullet shifted Y/N’s hair.

“You have two minutes to decide,” Meadows advised. The phone in her hand began ringing. “The next one won’t miss.” She answered the phone and stepped out.

Spencer spoke quickly. “Do whatever she’s asking. We have to get you out of here.”

“Reid, are your eyes broken?” Y/N snapped. “There’s a cult loyalist with a machine gun every five feet. You got a plan for that?”

“Listen to me.” His voice was calm, determined. “You’re right about them wanting me alive.”

The frustration bled through Y/N’s voice. “You should have just shot her.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that.”

“You could’ve shot all three of them and ended this in the garage,” Y/N argued.

“And then I would have watched you die,” he said quietly. “That was never even an option.”

“I’m failing to see how that would have been any worse than this. Look at us.” She gestured wildly between them. She watched as the storm of emotion returned, a cyclone swirling in seas of gold and brown. “The team needs you. Spencer, I—” I need you. She reached a hand up, almost touching his face before dropping it back in her lap. He had found the chink in her carefully constructed armor; a fissure he’d fractured a little further with every smile, every look, every moment. All at once she knew she’d never be able to keep him out, no matter how much it might hurt.

“You’ve got one minute,” Meadows barked, hovering over them.

“Y/L/N, listen to me… Please...” Spencer’s voice was thick with tears. “Tell my mom—” The phone rang again, and Meadows stepped away to answer it. Spencer dropped to a whisper. His eyes flashed with urgency. “They’re taking me and Theo. We’ll distract them. The car we were in is right outside the door. We’re 18 minutes from Quantico. Turn left outside the parking lot, take a right at the light, you’ll recognize the rest. They stay off the highways.”

Y/N’s voice was frantic when she asked, “What about you?”

His eyes pleaded with her to respect what he was asking her to do. “I’ll delay them. Get the rest of the team back here. And do not worry about me.” John hauled up him off the floor.

“Time’s up.” Meadows, in a rare display of mercy, allowed them a hug.

Spencer leaned into her and Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She squeezed as hard as she could and whispered his name. She felt him take a deep breath into her hair, holding it for one impossibly long moment. Just before she released her hold on him, he mumbled, “It’s all happening. 10:23.” John dragged him back out the way they’d came.

“I gave you what you wanted.” Meadows ordered, “Get to it. Now.”

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N worked and waited, then watched and worried. Spencer spoke to Meadows. He was stalling her, offering a deal, boosting her ego, granting Y/N the opportunity to mentally prepare. But no matter how much time he gave her, she would never be prepared to leave him in that warehouse. He met her eyes across the movements of the operation and gave her an imperceptible nod before lunging forward to reach for John’s gun.

Chaos exploded throughout the warehouse. Theo ran in one direction, accosted by half a dozen Believers. Spencer and John tussled over the gun, one fighting for control and the other fighting the inevitable. Y/N sprinted, largely unnoticed, toward the huge sliding doors left slightly ajar. Bursting out into the night air, she immediately spotted one of the black sedans, unbelievably unlocked and with the keys in the ignition. She slammed the door behind her, turned the key, hesitated with her eyes on the door and her mind on Spencer for one moment too long. A single gunshot sounded from inside the warehouse.

Meadows raced out of the doorway, gun drawn. “Stop!” She pointed her gun at Y/N and there was nothing to do but step on the gas. Y/N had her eyes wide open as Meadows bounced off the windshield and onto the asphalt. She didn’t look back.

She drove. Left out of the parking lot. Just a dark, rural road—nothing particularly special or descript. She drove. Right at the stoplight. Then it was, just as Spencer said, familiar terrain. She wondered how it was possible to have seemed so far away— a world away— when it was right under their proverbial nose. She drove.

Her brain navigated of its own volition. Her mind couldn’t have been farther from the inside of the vehicle. She didn’t realize she’d arrived at the Bureau until she was attempting to pull into her usual parking spot, only to be met with her own abandoned car.

She turned the car off, left the keys in the ignition, and nearly floated out into the garage; up the elevator; across the cold floors of the lobby. Her body had walked this same path so many times before; it carried her without hesitation. She could hear the voices of the team, drifting through the open glass doors.

“She accepted their help knowing she would betray the government,” Tara deduced.

“Not every survivor wanted help,” JJ clarified.

Rossi continued, “We ran those who left the ranch and kept their names. A few relocated in rural Maryland and Virginia.”

“They could be helping now,” Luke suggested. “Any of them have large pieces of property?”

“A few,” Emily confirmed. Y/N turned the corner as she continued, “The Washington field office has started searches in Maryland. We’ll take the lead in Virginia.”

As she moved into the doorway, JJ’s eyes went wide and she rushed to Y/N’s side. “Oh my god, are you hurt?” She gently grabbed Y/N by the shoulders.

“It’s a warehouse in Hillcrest,” Y/N said flatly, eyes unfocused. “I can take you there, but we have to hurry. They hurt Reid; he looked— bad. He told me to r-run and take the car, but he’s still there.” Everyone headed for the doors except JJ and Garcia. “They won’t be there long, they have lots of trucks.” Y/N’s eyes locked on JJ, and for the first time since the whole ordeal started, she allowed herself to splinter, just a little. “I heard a gunshot. JJ, I heard a gunshot. I tried—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” JJ nodded, drawing her into a hug. “I know. I know you tr—”

“I left him there.” Her voice broke, but she couldn’t cry. Not yet. “I couldn’t get him. There was no way to save hi—”

“Stop,” JJ ordered, pulling out of the hug. “Y/N, look at me. You got out, you got back to us. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t even know about the warehouse.”

“What if— what if I got him killed?” Y/N asked.

“You didn’t get anyone killed. Spence knew what he was doing.” JJ’s voice softened. “That’s what he does. He always figures things out before the rest of us. He has a plan and getting you back to Quantico was part of it.” She raised her eyebrows, making sure Y/N was listening. “And now we have to help him by putting the rest of it together.”

Y/N ran a hand over her face. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

Garcia stepped forward and laid a hand on her arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Then we’ll get Reid back.”

They cleaned the blood from her face and hair as best they could in the bathroom sink. JJ patched up the lacerations with steri-strips. Back in the conference room, Garcia insisted she should get screened for a concussion as Y/N rubbed the knot on the back of her head. “There’s no time. Reid said, ‘It’s all happening. 10:23.’”

“But it’s past that,” JJ considered.

“So what did he mean?” Garcia asked.

“Could be a clue here.” Rossi's voice came over the speakerphone from inside the warehouse. “They got sloppy since they left in a hurry.”

“Okay, well you can’t be that far behind them,” JJ insisted.

“I know,” Emily agreed. “But there’s easy access to three major highways, and we don’t know which way they went.”

“Right, but they’re in tractor trailers. That means we can track them through weigh stations.”

“Garcia?” Emily prompted.

“In order to do that, I’d need the transponder identification numbers,” Garcia answered.

“Which we have no way of knowing,” Rossi sighed. “Everything they used was almost definitely forged.”

“We’re going to do another sweep here, and then we’ll head back,” Emily said. “Try to map out the most likely routes they’d use to get out of dodge.”

JJ hung up and looked to Y/N. “What do you remember about the warehouse?”

Y/N pressed her fingers into her temples. “It was full of supplies. They were disguising them, but they had stockpiles of weapons and ammunition; non-perishables and other food items; water. Enough to be off the grid for at least a year.” Y/N leaned back in her chair. “But it wasn’t just about The Believers. I mean, we know they’re a reincarnation of the Separatarian Sect.” She looked at JJ and Garcia. “It was more than that, though. Reid was at the center of everything; he was the target all along. Merva is the messiah, but it somehow all comes back to Spence.”

“Makes sense. They blame him for the downfall of the Sect,” JJ supplied.

“Yeah.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “But—and I can’t—I can’t really explain it, but Meadows really wanted to kill Reid right then. She was— she was irritated, more than anything else.”

“So what stopped her?” Garcia asked.

“That’s what I can’t figure out. She threatened me with it, with ‘blowing his brains out,’ but I— called her bluff. And she was pissed.” Y/N rapped her knuckles on the table. “I mean, really, really furious. Which tells me that, even though she wanted to, she couldn’t kill him.” She looked between the two of them. “Merva was pulling the strings, and he wouldn’t let her do it there.”

“So it matters where the final sacrifice takes place,” JJ concluded. “We’ve got to figure out where they’re going.”

⧭⧭⧭

They’d been rehashing the details over and over. Liberty Ranch, The Strangler investigation, The Believers, Meadows, Merva, Cyrus, 300 victims, the hyoid bones, all of it. About the only thing they knew for sure was how far the cult could get in the trucks. Spencer could have told them the exact square mileage, but the potential geographical range of the trucks was dauntingly large. Y/N tried not to panic as she stared at the map.

“If this is about a Believer's rebirth, babies are born with 300 bones,” JJ said. “And they’re taking the hyoids.”

“And the hyoids we had in evidence are missing, which means Merva needed them back,” Tara reasoned. “And that means they mean more to the end game than we thought.”

Y/N felt her patience waning. “But why did Reid need us to know it all happens at 10:23?” Y/N hated that her voice sounded snappy and desperate. “That’s got to be important. It’s the last thing he said to me.”

Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, you’re right. It means something to him. We’re trying to figure it out.”

“Yeah, well, we better figure it out soon.” Y/N shrugged off his hand, pushed back from her seat at the conference room table, and turned for the door. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Every minute they spent floating ideas was another mile between them and Spencer. Another moment closer to losing him. She shoved the bathroom door open, hurrying into the stall and emptying the contents of her stomach.

She slumped back against the side of the stall, head gently knocking into the cool metal. She needed to pull herself together. The team was always strongest when they did their group think sessions, building upon each other’s knowledge and perspectives and filling in the gaps. If they’d done more of that earlier— if she’d had the confidence to call it out as soon as she saw the holes, Spencer might not be locked in the back of a truck, hundreds of miles away.

Y/N hoisted herself off the ground and out of the stall. She braced her hands on the counter top and tried to breathe evenly. She turned on the water and splashed her face, tapping against her cheeks. With water dripping down the planes of her face, she stared herself down in the mirror, willing her tired brain to make that last connection, to find that missing thread. It was all about the Benjamins, and she had a feeling that Cyrus was the key.

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and made her way to the conference room. She listened to their rotating conversation, knowing that this team was the only group of people capable of getting Spencer back alive.

“We have confirmation that there’s been no activity in or around the old ranch,” Matt informed them, pocketing his phone.

“If this is about rebirth, they’ll choose a new place,” Luke posited, arms crossed.

Tara leaned over the table. “Given their adoration of Cyrus and his love for the country, he’d want them to stay within our borders.”

“But Benjamin Cyrus wasn’t his real name, and he wasn’t born into the Sect,” Y/N reminded them quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. She gave an apology grimace to Matt. He just shrugged and smiled, motioning her over to the table.

Garcia nodded. “Right, let’s see. Uh, he and his mom arrived there when he was a teenager. He was kicked out for molesting girls. And then he served time in prison in Kentucky.”

“And that’s where he found religion,” Y/N recalled, thinking back to the report she’d studied dozens of times. “So he was reborn as Benjamin Cyrus in Kentucky.” She closed her eyes and flipped through her mental file cabinet, looking for 10:23.

“That’s within the area,” Garcia confirmed. “Maybe that’s where they’re headed?”

“Find out what city he was born in or where he was in prison,” Luke said. “We’ll spread out from there.”

“He found religion,” Y/N repeated, mostly to herself. “Chapter ten, verse twenty-three. 10:23 isn’t a time.” Y/N shook her head and then dragged her hand through her hair. “It’s scripture.”

“Let’s get in the air; we can narrow down which verse and city before we land,” Emily instructed.

⧭⧭⧭

“We’re approaching Kentucky; the pilot needs to know where to touch down,” Rossi informed them.

The team was scattered throughout the jet, scrolling through scripture on their tablets, reading out verses. Y/N held her chin in her hand, eyes unfocused, dragging a net along the furthest corners of her mind.

“Hey guys, listen to this,” JJ said. “Matthew chapter ten, verse twenty-three: ‘When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another.’”

“They’re going to the next town,” Emily said.

“Flee to the next town. But which one?” asked Garcia.

“Their end game is also a new beginning,” Rossi explained. “Cyrus brought religion back to the cult. They’d honor that by wanting to start fresh.”

Y/N raised her head. “Like the Garden of Eden.”

“That’s how 300 fits,” Tara concluded. “That was the number of angels that protected the Garden of Eden. Are there any Edens in Kentucky?”

The sound of Garcia tapping across the keyboard came through the laptop. “Um, no, but there are two synonyms: Canaan and Arcadia.”

“Cyrus is the original messiah. Which one is closer to where he was born?” Y/N asked.

“Arcadia,” Garcia informed them.

Y/N stood up. “That’s where they’re going.”

“Garcia, pull land deeds. I’ll notify SWAT,” Emily instructed.

JJ grabbed Y/N’s hand. “We’re going to get him.”

Y/N met her eyes. “I just hope we’re not too late.”

⧭⧭⧭

The new compound proved easy to find. In the middle of nowhere but illuminated by hundreds of lights, there were rows and rows of tents. The team began strategizing, looking for the best route to Spencer.

Emily tried to convince Y/N, now showing clear concussion symptoms, to stay with the SUVs.

“With all due respect, there is no way in hell that I’m going to sit in this car while Reid gets sacrificed by a homicidal cult leader,” Y/N said. There was a hushed pause, the team exchanging knowing glances.

“Fair enough,” Emily conceded. “Matt and JJ, I want you on the left side. Luke and Tara, the right. Dave and Y/N, you’re with me. We’re clearing every tent; eliminate any threat that would give away your position.” She unholstered her gun and swept her eyes across the team. “Our objective is to extract Reid with minimal loss.”

As they approached the first line of tents, Y/N could faintly hear Spencer speaking. “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Her heart hammered against her ribcage. “A time to be born and a time to die.” She could feel the blood rushing through her ears. “A time to weep and a time to pluck up that which has been planted.”

“Okay, he’s stalling,” Meadows snapped. “That’s enough!”

“All right. Let the sacrifice begin.” That was Merva now, riling up the followers. “Protect us from all harm.”

As Merva led The Believers in a monotone chant, Y/N tried to block it out. She scanned a tent, watched as SWAT took out a bodyguard, looked for Spencer. Rinse and repeat, again and again. It was taking too long.

“And we thank Our Guardian, who will protect this family now and always,” Merva’s voice rang out. “Spencer: keeper of provisions!” Y/N saw the gathering of followers, but she couldn’t see Spencer.

The SWAT commander stopped them. They had reached the final line of tents. He signaled to the leaders on each side. They were ready to strike.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the crowd. She could just barely make out some sort of hanging mobile, white u-shaped decorations suspended from string. The hyoids, she realized, a wave of nausea hitting her like a truck.

Merva continued, “You have given selflessly to others and will be rewarded by the highest honor we could bestow. Your blood will be our blood. Your life will fuel ours.”

A gunshot rang out. The followers gasped. There was a split second of calm before the bedlam. Y/N took a single breath. Then she heard Matt yell; saw John lift his rifle and be felled by a solo shot to the head; watched Luke take down another bodyguard directly after.

And then she saw him. Strapped down under a canopy of bones, Spencer was silent and unmoving. He didn’t struggle. He didn’t call out. And there was Merva, knife in hand— still trying to complete his mission.

She didn’t vacillate, barely breathed, just let her legs carry her forward. She heard Emily call out his name. When Merva turned, the curved blade of the knife poised at the column of Spencer's throat, Y/N’s trigger finger compressed. She felt the gun recoil, felt the force of the shot travel up her arm as she put a single bullet in his chest. As he fell, she didn’t stop, just stepped over him, knew one of the others would take care of it.

She tripped over the small platform Spencer was restrained on, stumbling and holstering her gun. Her hands moved over the straps, loosening the one over his waist, then the ones at his hands, finally pushing the leather from his head. He panted and muttered his thanks, but she didn’t dare speak, afraid that if she did, she’d never be able to stop. Instead, she flung her arms over his shoulders, pulling him down and close and over her heart. She wondered if he could feel the way it pummeled against her chest, because to her it felt like it might smash through at any moment. His arms came around her, chin resting on her shoulder, nose in her hair. She heard him inhale and hold his breath, a mirror of that last moment together in the warehouse. She held onto him as an overboard sailor holds a life ring: single-minded, unrelenting, desperate.

There was a touch on her opposite shoulder and Y/N swung around, adrenaline still racing through her veins. JJ put her hand out in a placating motion, and Y/N came back to herself, allowing JJ to step forward and help Spencer off the platform. Y/N let out a breath and reached a hand out to steady herself, only to flinch when it brushed one of the straps that had held Spencer down. Luke caught her on one side, Tara on the other. She grasped at them, her emotions teetering right along with her physical form. Luke pulled her out from under the macabre canopy and into a hug. Tara held her hand. For the first time since the parking garage, she let herself go.

⧭⧭⧭

The jet was quiet. The team was spread out around the cabin, each of them lost in their own heads. There was a tranquility over the space, one that only ever happened when unmitigated relief overwhelmed even the joy or fulfillment of a life saved.

Y/N sat in one of the single seats, across the aisle from where Spencer was settled. Tara and Luke had finally convinced her to get checked out by the EMTs, who had confirmed her concussion. She convinced herself that the fuzziness on the corners of her vision was just a symptom of that, not a product of the tears she was struggling to hold back.

The team each stopped by Spencer’s seat, patting his shoulder, squeezing his hand, or in Rossi’s case, gently ruffling his hair. They all spoke briefly in hushed, grateful tones. All except Y/N. She couldn’t formulate a sentence that seemed adequate. There was simultaneously too much and nothing to say. Everything felt contrived or insufficient or intemperate.

Spencer was safe. They hadn’t been too late. He was bruised and undoubtedly sore, but ultimately, he’d been through worse. So why was her heart still aching? Why couldn’t she catch her breath? She hadn’t spoken more than a few words since leaving the raid, so why did her throat feel like it was on fire? She closed her eyes, leaned her head back. She incessantly pressed her hands together, trying to crack her sore knuckles over and over again.

A pair of hands gently closed over her own, stopping the abuse, and she didn’t have to open her eyes to know who they belonged to. His thumbs stroked over the backs of her hands and she cursed the tears that spilled over her bottom lashes. He didn’t say anything, didn’t force her to look at him or acknowledge her shattering. He waited her out, rubbing a rhythm on her skin and steadying her without a word. She opened her eyes but couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet. Instead she focused on their joined hands, reciprocating the gentle pulses he gave every so often.

She turned her head to wipe her wet cheeks on her shoulder as the landing announcement came over the cabin speaker. She did look at him then, and the emotion in his gaze left her feeling raw and exposed. Their hands reluctantly separated to buckle their seat belts. Y/N closed her eyes again, turning her face into the warmth of the early morning sun as the jet began its descent.

When they landed, everyone wearily shuffled off the plane, eager to get home to their beds. Penelope met them at the elevator, enveloping Spencer in a long hug, the rest of the team smiling at their embrace. They each moved through the bullpen, gathering their things and talking quietly. Y/N’s eyes paused on her bag, brought up from the parking garage by one of the team after she’d gone missing. They lingered for a long moment on the case file, still sitting where she’d left it hours ago, before she let herself let it go. She grabbed her bag and turned to see Spencer standing in the aisle, hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on her.

“Hey,” she said dumbly.

He smiled. “Hi.”

Her hands wrung the straps of her bag. “How—how’re you holding up?”

“I’ve been worse.” He shrugged. “How’s your head?”

“I’ve been worse,” she agreed.

“That’s good. Because I think after all that, the least you could do is give me a ride home,” he joked.

Y/N knew he was trying to reassure her that he was fine, but she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. If anything, his attempts to provide comfort made her feel worse. Because she couldn’t forget the sound of the gunshot at the warehouse, the sight of the knife at his throat, the feeling of nearly losing someone whom she knew she could love if she just had more time. Too exhausted to hide her emotions, she could tell by the change in Spencer’s eyes that the pain was apparent on her face.

“Actually, you probably shouldn’t be driving, even if it’s just a mild concussion. Where are your keys?”

“It’s fine. I’m all ri—” Y/N started.

“I know I phrased that as a question, but I’m not really asking.” He held out his hand.

Normally she would have argued, but she just didn’t have the energy. Y/N dug into her bag, fishing out the keys and dropping them into his hand. He closed his fingers around them and jerked his head toward the door. “Come on,” he murmured. He waved to the rest of the team, and Y/N nodded, avoiding their eyes.

The ride in the elevator was silent. The walk to the car, too. They were pulling out of the garage before Spencer finally broke the silence.

“You know this wasn’t your fault, right?” he asked. Y/N stayed quiet. “We all missed the connection to Liberty Ranch.”

“But I knew something was off, and I didn’t say anything. I— I almost came to find you before I left, and if I had just done that—”

“Y/N,” Spencer interrupted. “The plan was already in motion. Meadows and Merva would have just figured out another way to execute it.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “And without you and the leads from the warehouse, the team might not have figured it out in time.”

Y/N opened her mouth before realizing she didn’t have a response. She didn’t even want to consider that possibility. She leaned her head against the window, pressing the thumb and fingers of one hand into her eyes to stave off the throbbing.

Graciously, Spencer let her remain in silence the rest of the ride to her apartment. There was so much to say, especially now; she didn’t know where to begin. And even after everything, she couldn’t stop herself from bringing up that wall— protecting herself from what she knew could hurt her more than any unsub.

They pulled onto her street, fairly empty at such an early hour. Spencer parked in front of her apartment, opening the car door and coming around the other side of the car. She expected him to give her the keys, but as she exited the car, he waited by the gate for her. “I’ll walk you up.”

Spencer opened the gate, allowing her to walk through before closing it behind them and following her up the sidewalk. “I need the keys,” she told him.

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Right, right.” He placed them into her outstretched hand, and she wondered if she imagined his fingers lingering over hers.

When they reached her door, she unlocked the deadbolt and swung the door open, stepping over the threshold. He waited outside, hands in his pockets. Y/N rolled her keys in her hand, and Spencer watched them.

“Um— thank you for—” Y/N started.

“I told Emily on the jet, and I’ll tell you now.” Spencer raised his eyes to meet hers. There was that look again, the one she couldn’t quite identify. “I’ve always had a hard time saying what I feel. And maybe sometimes it’s because I’m afraid of being disappointed. But sometimes it’s because the words I’m looking for don’t exist in the English language.”

“Spence—”

“Please just let me get this out,” he said. “There have been a couple moments over the past few months where I thought maybe we were sharing mamihlapinatapei.”

“Mamih what?” Y/N asked.

“Mamihlapinatapei.” He repeated, gesturing with his hands. “It’s a Yagan word that originates on the Tierra del Fuego archipelago off the southern tip of Argentina. It translates succinctly as ‘the wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so.’”

“Oh.” Y/N felt a flush rising up in her cheeks.

Suddenly, Spencer couldn’t meet her eyes. “I, um—I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize our friendship or make things awkward at work. But last night, I… I just— I’ve had too many moments in my life where I thought it might be my last, and I hadn’t said all the things I needed to say.” He met her eyes again, and there was that familiar storm. “Last night I was out of time, and I hadn’t told you how I feel, and I realized that I wouldn’t get another chance, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I needed to—”

Y/N stepped forward, grabbed the front of his shirt, and crashed their mouths together. She tried to pour everything into the kiss: every blush, every worry, every laugh, every panicked moment, every mamihlapinatapei. Spencer cradled her face in his hands, opening his mouth and capturing her bottom lip, accepting everything she gave him. She wound one of her hands into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and grounding herself to this new reality that almost wasn’t. The height of the kiss tapered off, and Y/N drew back, untangling her fingers from his hair and her heart from his grasp. Spencer watched her carefully, honey eyes uncertain.

“I do. Feel the same,” Y/N confirmed. Spencer’s lips twitched. “I’m not good at vulnerability. I’ve got a great track record of getting hurt.” Spencer grabbed her hand and opened his mouth, but Y/N continued, “But then I thought we might lose you, that time was out, and that I— I wouldn’t get the chance to see if you could be— if this could be more.” She gestured between them and then met his eyes again. “And I guess being vulnerable isn’t so bad in comparison. Because I think I could fall in love with you. I think maybe it’s already happening.” She held her breath and pressed her lips together, fighting the regret of saying too much.

“Actually, there’s a word for that, too.” Spencer smiled, warm and soft and genuine. “Forelsket. The origin is Norwegian, and it roughly translates to ‘the euphoria experienced as you begin to fall in love.’”

“Forelsket?” Y/N asked.

“Well, it’s more like forelsket,” Spencer corrected.

“Wow, okay, 187.” Y/N laughed for the first time in what felt like days. “Forelsket.”

“Better,” Spencer praised. “There’s also the Tagalog version, kilig.”

Y/N took a step closer to him and smoothed his shirt where her hands had wrinkled it. “Translation?”

“‘The sudden feeling of an inexplicable joy one gets when something romantic happens,’ or alternatively ‘the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.’” Spencer moved his hand to her waist and stepped over the threshold.

Y/N cupped his cheek in her hand, soothing the bruises and guiding him back to her. “Yeah. Sounds about right.”

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