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dannyphantom-justiceleauge · 3 years ago

Note

This may be a minor gripe but something that has kind of bothered me about discussions and depictions of Dan is how often people seem to forget that Dan isn't just an older evil Danny, he's a combination of Danny and Vlad's ghost sides. Like people always talk about him like Danny threw away his humanity and turned evil but that's not even true. Sure, we can say that Dan is the result of Danny's action but that's a little unfair. (1/2)

(2/2) Him cheating on a test, coincidentally putting his loved one's in a position where they could be killed, is absolutely not his fault. Letting Vlad take away his ghost powers with a strange contraption might not have been the smartest move, but we are talking about a grieving CHILD here, of course he isn't going to make the best decisions. If anything Vlad's the one to blame here, and even then, it's not like he could predict what happened

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you aren't wrong, my friend. it really isn't entirely danny's fault and the whole 'if you cheat on a test, you'll loose everything you love' moral is confused at best. i think as fandom we find it more interesting to look at danny's potential evil and moral struggle with himself. so simplifying it to be dan is a worse case scenario of danny makes the conflict less abstract.

particularly because when it comes to self blame danny isn't going to go easy on himself just because it was excusable mistakes.

i think another talking point should be how danny is the target of the time assassination more than vlad is, even though vlad is part of the evil whole. you could argue that danny is the catalyst of his friends death and vlad inventing the claw things. but vlad invented the claw things. maybe because his human side survived and acted relatively harmless from then on? or maybe it's because the observants based on the available evidence recognized danny as more of a threat. i think that fits actually, for all vlad tried to be an evil mastermind, his achievements outside of terrorizing a teenager and theft isn't particularly impressive. danny was the one who got shit done. all his fights he finished one way or another and i could see how that would bleed into dan defeating everyone.

the real question is how to we fix this. ideally we could shape this idea so it's less confused, though i do honestly find the dynamic of half danny, half vlad interesting. if for not other reason. than two half ghosts make a whole. actually that's something else to be said about dan. his self-loathing is what led him to killing his human half, another negative aspect coming from danny.

i wonder if we could frame it like fusion, from su. obviously dan isn't stable or healthy, or based on love. he's most comparable to malichite. but with less internal debate. dan took the best and worst of both of them. danny's determination, danny's fighting ability, danny's anger, danny's sarcasm, vlad's anger, vlads lack of morals, vlads schemes, vlad's control. heck, vlads desire to rule the world. i don't think we ever got that from danny.

maybe if vlad was more involved in the fight with dan it could have been used as an opportunity to compare and contrast their characters. to go we're not so different you and i. danny gets to recognize that he has that dark potential. vlad gets to be humbled by the fact that what he wants isn't good for anyone, especially himself. and to be fair, we do see some of that humbling with future vlad, but none of that character growth is given to present vlad, so, really it's just another vehicle for danny angst. it also depends on what you want to do with vlad though. he's a fascinating character and could be given redemption under the right circumstances or be a character who has the opportunity for redemption but chooses not to be redeemed every time.

that fits him and makes him both a more pathetic and despicable villain. it's hard to pity someone who ignores the opportunities to heal and grow.

as for danny, he becomes far more aware of the consequences his actions, especially his selfish and cruel ones can have. because that potential was always there. he has a history of abusing his powers. perhaps for this specific incident him abusing his powers can be something less understandable than almost cheating on a test that he couldn't study for through no fault of his own. (maybe i just have flexible morals?). maybe it could be something more character relevant, like he did something particularly vlad like, maybe he set up a prank at the nasty burger to get dash but it set off the explosion that killed his family. or maybe he did something particularly cruel and manipulative. there are better catalysts than a test. either way he recognized that he should never go that far again and strive to avoid being actively cruel.

he also has the opportunity to recognize that vlad does have a human half, even the one he's fighting everyday. he can face some conflict in it's not entirely clear what trait belongs to vlad and what trait belongs to him. he can empathize with vlad and he can recognize that situations aren't always in black in white. those who fly the highest, fall the hardest, after all.

it can be a growing experience. and while making it solely a danny goes bad and learns not to do evil kind of story. maybe we could cut vlad from the equation and just have danny face himself, full evil refection. i think exploring both vlad and danny through this fusion is far more interesting. especially because we can build on what's revealed about vlad in these episodes, in later ones. danny sees a future where vlad chills and that maybe his vlad could get their. later he see vlads past and what he lost to become who he is.

and then there's vlads turning point episodes. i don't know when motherly instinct took place but maddie fully recognizing he's a bastard and rejection him, was a turning point for his sanity, and danny helped it along. then we have danny rejecting him repeatedly, then we the clone episode, which we can all agree was a desperate move on his part, that danny once again thwarted. and we can all agree that this was the cannon turning point for his character where he stopped fighting for a family and started trying to be danny's villain. in that episode, i think danny could potentially pity vlad enough to try and reach out. he's not going to justify what vlad did and he's not going to apologize for stopping him. he went too far. he hurt danny and dani, he crossed a moral line that can't be justified even with his desperation. but if he changes...

he lost this time but if he changes, maybe they'll reach the point where they're ready to accept him.

i think the same thing could be said about his relationship with jack and maddie. if he changes, if he reaches out. if acts like less of a crazy fruitloop, his friends would be there for him. jack is still trying to be there for him, even if he's being oblivious about vlad's faults. vlads the one driving wedges into his relationships and pushing everyone away.

and that's so freaking human and understandable.it would be such a cool thing to explore with his character.

i could also see a potential arc where after valerie finds out vlad and masters are the same person she tries to get close to him, both to sus out how evil he is and to understand him as a halfa. afterall danny got her to acknowledge dani as human enough, the same would apply to vlad/plasmius, right? only he's a bad person and the more she uncovers about vlad masters the man, the more she realizes it's not the ghost half that's evil. but this is a double edged sword because, vlad is getting attached to her and encouraging her to be more evil. he's encouraging her to go darker and darker in her fight against ghosts and her fight specifically against phantom. to the point where she finally draws the line and says, i'm not doing that! boom exploring the moral ambiguity of her character and getting her to take a hard stance on her morals, because there's a line too far for her.

and boom a further breakdown of vlads character because he finally had someone outside the fentons to redeem him. she could have helped pull him out of the hole he'd been digging himself into. she wanted to help him. he got attached to her, but he and his bad decisions decided to dig himself deeper instead. so once again he's 'abandoned and betrayed'.

from that point, i think it'd be time for him to finally face jack head on. not through manipulative schemes. not through veiled threats and insults. but the full confrontation of 'i always hated you. you ruined my life. you're the reason i lost everything'. which is really just his own self loathing speaking. and jack... empathetic jack can see that vlad desperately wants help. and jack would offer it to him. jack would try to hug it out and apologize and give vlad the love and friendship vlad's been fighting to steal this whole time.

and vlad would reject it.

he'd probably lash out a jack and go into a full breakdown/world destroying attack. could finally put the stolen crown to use and try declaring himself king and embracing his megalomaniac thing and actually be a threat this time. and THAT would be our series finally. everyone teaming up to fight 'king vlad'. danny probably finding out that he's technically king because he beat pariah dark but the matter being a bit confused because he had help. val and danny trying to find the ring of rage or at least find someone who can make one. secrets are out. i imagine vlad, upon revealing himself to jack would out danny to make danny as sad and alone as him. except nope, his family still loves him and val has had the character development to come around to him. (she's still gonna punch danny for lying for so long.) the ghosts will come and help because no one wants another tyrannical kind and vlads obviously off his rocker.

ah, the could have beens

anyway, i didn't mean for this to become a full vlad character analysis and rewrite when we were supposed to be talking about dan, but hey, i'm a simple creature. i like good writing, and i have to rewrite things myself, so be it. - Hestia

#dpjl #hestiawrites #danny phantom #vlad masters

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lokilickedme · 3 years ago

Text

The Way

I’m writing horror again. I guess it’s that time, you know, that time that has nothing to do with Halloween or the seasons or whatever, that time when it just hits me for some reason. And just like I always do, I’ll say I don’t know why.

Even though I know why, and you know I know why.

Because the truth is always so much weirder and worse and more disquieting than any excuse I could make up for it, and sometimes I just feel the need.

Today I felt the need, and I couldn’t make it go away.

And so I sat down, and words I didn’t want to write were written.

8592 words I would rate this Mature 18+ if it was a fic, strictly because of the subject matter.

Warnings: Death, mostly. Religious trauma, brief descriptions of abuse, mentions of mental illness, domestic violence, grief, familial dysfunction, religious abuse, emotional abuse, medical conditions, brief mentions of drug use/abuse, mild gore in reference to corpse decomposition, psychological unease and mild terror, child abuse (mental/emotional/psychological), brief allusion to physical child abuse, cult references, loss of faith, attempted murder, possible actual murder.

A Note: I love you guys, you’re always so quick and willing to be helpful and offer advice and suggestions and such, and I adore that about you. But on this piece of work I ask that nobody offer any theories about what happened to my brother - medical, criminal, or otherwise - and please no suggestions on things we could do to pursue investigation, that ship has long sailed. It’s been 23 years and he’s a cold case. We spent years trying to sort it out but in the end it’s just something that happened, and we moved on because we had to. There are a lot of open ends, a lot of question marks, a lot of suspicious details that never connected to anything - and we tried, we truly did. If anyone out there knows the truth, they’ve never shown themselves to us. We do have our theories, but my brother was a secretive person living a life none of us knew about, and the people he knew weren’t people we knew. Everyone involved is either dead or moved on or got away with whatever it was they did, and there are only three of us who still care. It’s over.

Until today, I’ve never put these events into words.

It was something I needed to do, finally.

This is PART ONE. There may not be a part two, unless doing this ends up making me feel better.

Please feel free to comment if you wish. As you can see, pretty much nothing triggers me. I just ask that you please refrain from the type of comments noted above.

And thank you.

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This is, regrettably, a true story. Nothing has been changed but the names, because the dead don’t like being talked about, and James was just enough of a shit to haunt me for it.

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They made up their minds And they started packing They left before the sun came up that day An exit to eternal summer slacking But where were they going without ever knowing the way

They drank up the wine And they got to talking They now had more important things to say And when the car broke down They started walking Where were they going without ever knowing the way

Anyone can see the road that they walk on is paved in gold And it's always summer They'll never get cold They'll never get hungry They'll never get old and gray You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today, today

Their children woke up And they couldn't find them They left before the sun came up that day They just drove off and left it all behind them But where were they going without ever knowing the way?

You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere They won't make it home But they really don't care They wanted the highway They're happier there today, today

- The Way, Fastball, 1998

That was the year James died in his sleep.

Or that’s what they say, anyway. Asthma, the likely cause based on his medical history, our first and least disturbing assumption. Undetermined, the official determination based on the hastily scraped-together autopsy, the best that could be done under the circumstances. We tell people he had breathing problems, and they nod their heads and agree because they knew he did, and now he’s been gone so long that nobody asks. Most of the people who ever met him have long moved on or disappeared or died themselves, or just remember him as the enigmatic middle son from the Keithley family that nobody really knew very well. You know, the odd one, the one that showed up at meetings maybe once a year and smiled nervously but didn’t really talk to anyone and always seemed anxious to leave? The one who died under mysterious circumstances? That one.

He left the way he always came in. Quietly, unexpected, without anyone being aware of either his entrance or his exit.

But me and mom know some things, and she’s not talking. She probably never will.

So maybe it’s time I did.

December 1998. I’d gotten married two years previous and moved back to the family land with my new husband. He hated it there, but we had an affordable place to live. It wasn’t bad. He’d tell you otherwise. The land never sat right with him, but I’d lived there too many years to see it. I’d been fifteen when my father uprooted his large family from the city and hauled us out to the great back door to nowhere, and even though I’d left several times to wander elsewhere, I always came back.

I didn’t realize why at the time, at any of the multiple times. But now I know. That place gets you, and it holds you, and unless you’re goddamned devoted to staying gone you will always be pulled back. It took me till I was 49 to funnel the necessary amount of devotion away from the religious dedication I’d had jackbooted into me and turn it toward getting out, but against a great number of overwhelming odds I finally did it.

But this isn’t about that, not yet anyway. This is about my brother James, and how he went to sleep one night and found his own way out.

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It was snowing, had been for days, a bit unusual but not unheard of. The part of the state we lived in was notorious for extended ice storms and we knew a bad one was coming, but until it hit we played in the snow like it was a gift and we were deprived children who knew it was all going to be taken away soon. My brothers and I were adults but you wouldn’t know it, watching us sneak around in the woods staging elaborate commando attacks on each other. James was the best of us, a stealth king who could stand in the middle of a room for an hour without a single soul seeing him. Perception bias, he said. Your brain ignores me because I obviously don’t belong, like those puzzles where you circle what’s wrong but it takes you forever to find them.

He crept around in the forest scaring the shit out of people, dropping his long tall self out of trees, appearing from nowhere to administer a well aimed snowball to the face of whoever happened to cross his path and then disappearing just as quickly. We called him a wraith and it wasn’t a good natured jibe. We meant it. He made people nervous. He was the stealthy kind of quiet you associate with danger, and he knew how to do things an average person doesn’t ever have any need to know. It was a quiet cool that we admired him for, because none of the rest of us had it.

The religion we were raised in kept a tight lid on us, but me and James, we never really let it get into our bones. We were the smart ones, in retrospect. I went through the motions by force of habit and a sense of self preservation, doing what was expected and demanded of me, following the rules and making myself a perfect example of a young member of the church so I wouldn’t bring shame on the congregation and my family. But mostly the congregation. It was always more important than anything else. And I had behaving down to an art form, but mostly when people were looking. Usually also when they weren’t.

But sometimes, not quite.

And then I prayed for forgiveness about it later because God was supposed to forgive you if you asked him to, right? The tenet of willful sin being unforgivable never took root with me even though that was what the church conditioned into us through fear and constant repetition. They said it from the stage two nights a week and again on Sunday to hammer it home. Two nights a week and again on Sunday my head silently disagreed. God’s not like that. And then I did the praying for forgiveness thing even though I knew I was right, because I was disagreeing with the church, and the church was God’s channel here on Earth, wasn’t it? I committed a mortal sin at least three times a week on that subject alone, and though the dread of divine punishment was hardwired into me, I never could reconcile the concept of a loving and forgiving God destroying me simply for knowing better.

I’m not sure the comprehension of an overwatching deity ever actually established itself in James’ brain. A moral code, yes. But isn’t that what God is, really? Maybe he understood more about God and forgiveness than the rest of us. But he was considered an unapproved fringe member of the church because he couldn’t suffer people and noise and being looked at and he refused to preach, and he was soft-shunned as a result. Because if you weren’t all in to the point of being willing to die at any moment for your faith, you were as good as faithless.

And faithless meant condemned. And the congregation couldn’t be bothered with condemned people, regardless of their reasons for not having both feet in the water. The first and only option on their list was to put the person out and let them find their own way back once they realized they had nobody left in the world who cared about them.

James escaped that somehow. He was supposed to be shunned whole scale, but he wasn’t trying to convince anyone to leave the faith and he presented no threat to anyone’s strength of belief, and so far as anyone knew he’d committed no grave sins other than disinterest. So the rule that dictated we cast him out was bent enough to allow him to remain living on the family land, though at one point during a fit of overzealous righteousness my mother had tried to have a family meeting to vote on whether or not we were going to let him stay. I refused to vote and when I walked out of the house the meeting fell apart.

I’ve never forgiven her for that. Her son’s life being put to a vote with her presiding over the proceedings, vengeful and unfeeling and devoid of compassion on behalf of God himself. It takes my breath away, the anger, still to this day. The only thing I ever truly learned from my mother about parenting was a long and intensely detailed list of what not to do to my own children, and I suppose I should be grateful for that. It’s a bitter thank-you to have to give, but it’s something.

We knew James as much as he would allow us to, and not an inch further. Which meant the extent of our knowledge of him pretty much stretched to include the singular fact that he was different. What that meant, I still don’t really know - but it was there from the day he was born, that slight off-ness, the oddly off center calibration that you can’t really see so much as sense in a person. I know now he was likely on the autism spectrum and he walked through life seeing and reacting to everything differently than most of us, but that wasn’t a thing back then. You were just weird, or you weren’t. And I’m not convinced that was a bad thing for him, strictly speaking. But in the confines of our religion and our family’s devout and sometimes violent dedication to it, it took its toll almost daily.

He stood out, and he was very much a person who didn’t want to. He wanted to fade into the background, to not be seen, to not be known. And our religion didn’t tolerate that kind of nonsense, because we were commanded to be bold bearers of The Word Of God, and no exceptions were made.

None.

I’m going to stop calling it a religion now. I beg your indulgence as I shift to calling it what it is, because calling it a religion is an insult to actual religions that don’t destroy peoples’ lives with callous indifference and murderous glee.

We were raised in a doomsday death cult. There’s no other name that fits.

And we were trapped in it and its ugly cycle of neverending mental and emotional manipulation and abuse until we were adults, and some of us are still bound to it. My oldest brother worked his way up to the upper levels of oversight in the local congregation and was solidly entrenched in it until his death, which is a story for later. My youngest brother, the last remaining living blood sibling I have, is still deeply in it to this day and will likely never leave it.

I took the hard way out, three years ago, by walking away.

James, though. He took the easy way. He simply closed his eyes, and he was free.

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December 22, 1998. Three days before Christmas, though that meant nothing to us. The cult told us Christmas was a filthy demonic pagan ritual that was condemned by God, so to us the season was just a nice chilly time of year with lots of time off from work. We’d had an unusual amount of snow, the most we’d had in years. The roads were impassable and everyone was home except my husband, who worked close enough that his boss at the glass shop came and picked him up that morning with chains on his tires. Lots of windshields had shattered from the sudden violent cold that had struck the previous night and Scott had the only glass shop for sixty miles.

I think it must have been around noon, and likely my mother had sent my dad up the hill to see if James wanted to come down for the lunch she was making. He and his wife had split up against the strict rules of the church after a few years of suffering through an ill advised marriage, an important detail to this story that will come into the tale later, and he was alone up there at the top of the hill a lot. Sometimes he forgot to eat, or he got so busy that he just didn’t bother, so our mother always made something for him because even though he was in his 20′s he was still a kid who needed looking after and her zealous fervor against him had died down with time. I think he let her believe he was helpless because it worked in his favor and there was always lunch waiting for him in her kitchen as a result.

He was different, he wasn’t dumb.

We all lived on the hill back then with the exception of our youngest brother. He’d moved to the city with his new wife not long prior. The locals jokingly called the place a commune, and I guess they weren’t completely wrong. Thirty-eight acres of wooded land far beyond the city limits that we’d painstakingly spent years carving a livable space into, with five houses, all built from the ground up and inhabited by an extended family of well known culties from a well known cult. It’s almost comical, looking back on it, knowing now how they kept an eye on us for years to make sure we weren’t doing anything weird up there.

They should have run us off with pitchforks and burning stakes at the very beginning.

Things might have ended differently for us if they had.

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My grandparents lived at one end of the property, an old couple as simple and solid as salted soup, devoutly religious and devoted to the cult and very much cut from the can survive anything and probably will cloth like so many old country folks of their generation. They were waiting out the end of days up there in their little wooden house, expecting the final hour of this old system to come long before their own demise. I liked my grandmother, she had a sweet smile and fell asleep every time granddad started talking about the Bible and she paid me five dollars every Wednesday to drive her into town to get groceries, and years later, when she was dying, she told me she’d had a dream where she met my unborn son. I was four months pregnant and didn’t know yet that I was having a boy. She died before he was born, but to this day, fifteen years later, he tells me he’s sure he met her, he just can’t remember when.

I was scared of my grandfather. Not terrified, but there was nothing grandfatherly to him and I always suspected he never actually liked kids much. He’d once told us a story about the great Fort Worth flood that wiped out most of the city when my mom was a baby, and how he had told my grandmother to let go of my 2-year-old mother while he was struggling to get them across a rushing flooded creek in water up to their shoulders. My grandmother couldn’t swim. We could make another Ruthie, he said. But I couldn’t get another ‘Nita.

He said it proudly, like he was to be admired for his choice. I was young when he told that story, but it settled into me that this was evil.

Even when he was old as dirt and dying of a brain tumor in hospice care, he made me uneasy. I was never close to him. But for some reason, in his final days, he forgot who everyone was except me. I had been living in another state for years and he hadn’t seen me since before the tumor started taking his life. But when I walked into the room he turned his head and looked at me, and he mouthed my name.

He couldn’t speak. I don’t know what he was trying to say, struggling with words that nobody could hear. And I felt bad. I didn’t want to be the last person he recognized. My cousins adored him and had spent the last few years constantly at his side, and they were angry, maybe justifiably, that I was the one he reached for.

I didn’t want that at all.

I don’t believe he was a bad man, but he never spoke of anything except the cult’s interpretation of the Bible, and it was as tiresome as it was terrifying. Granddads are supposed to be fun. Ours quoted doctrine at us in a deep loud commanding voice that you couldn’t interrupt and you couldn’t tune out, and once he got going you had to just settle in and wait for him to run out of zealous steam. And then he would suddenly stop and command grandmother to turn on a John Wayne movie and bring him some ice cream, and it was over until the next time.

I know my mother resented him. She knew grandmother was the one that had refused to let her go, the one that had held onto her even though she almost drowned by the simple act of holding on. She knew her father had been willing to let her wash away and drown. That he thought she was interchangeable with whatever baby they would have next. How she could spend her entire life with that knowledge and not be deeply affected by it was something that never made sense to me, but now, when she’s in her 70′s and I’m in my 50′s, I finally understand. It affected her. She’ll just be damned if she’ll let anyone see it. And she had stood there in that hospice room watching him mouth my name with resentment burning in her eyes, though she would have rather died than let anyone know what it was for. He’d forgotten her weeks ago.

The house in the center of the hill was mom and dad. The homestead. The house we’d all lived in together, that we’d built with our own hands, the first thing that marked that wild overgrown hill as a place where people actually lived. A long path through the woods connected it to the grandparents’ house, and it was the epicenter of everything in our lives. James and I had lived in the upstairs rooms of that house until we both moved out and married our respective mates years later, a reprehensible act on our part that was never okay with my mother and that she never forgave either of us for. She’d wanted us all to stay. We can all live here together until the New System comes, she always said. That’s how the Bible says it’s supposed to be. We can all keep each other safe and on the right path until the end comes, and then we’ll all be here together forever.

A decade later when I sat up on the hill watching that house burn to the ground, there was as much relief as grief billowing into the sky with the black smoke. It was the end of an era, and it was far beyond time for it.

Nobody saw it but me. James was dead, had been for years. Robbie was dead now too. Dad was gone, so was granddad. Me and my youngest brother David were the last two left of the kids, but he had moved to a neighboring city when he got married and he has never seen things the way I see them. We were of different generations, we weren’t raised the same way, and he’d never experienced the abuse I lived with for the first half of my life. And he had dedicated his own life to the cult with all the honesty and lack of guile that I didn’t have when I’d made my own dedication vows at the too-young age of sixteen.

It was the end of an era, but apparently only for me.

James’ house was up the hill, past a clearing where my dad used to keep old cars that he cannibalized for parts. Our oldest brother Robbie, long married with kids of his own, lived at the bottom on the farthest corner of the land. And my house was on the slope to the west, built on the spot where we’d cleared off an old half-fallen homestead from the late 1800′s, dutifully paying no mind to the fact that a grave was nestled into the slope, right where the yellow daffodils grew. The cult told us superstition was tied up with the demons and false religion, so we didn’t have the built-in human instinct that tells most people to stay the hell away from certain things.

We just pretended it wasn’t there, and put no importance on it. It was just an old grave. The soil was good and the garden I planted next to it did well, though those strange daffodils always wound themselves through everything I put in the ground. My husband said something wasn’t right about it, but I didn’t pay any attention to him. He hadn’t been raised as devout as me.

My dad knocked on my door around lunchtime and I opened it. He backed up, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, the fancy leather coat the dealership had awarded him when he was designated a five-star Chrysler technician and given the state’s first and only license to work on the new Vipers that had recently rolled off the prototype line. It was a cool jacket. Made him look like the old pictures my other grandmother had shown me of him from the early 1960′s, when he was young and very much a product of a fancier era. He’d never stopped greasing his hair back and was still so thin that he and I wore the same size jeans.

I’ve never understood the look on his face when I opened the door. To this day I can’t sort it. It wasn’t a blankness like so many people who’ve seen death wear without awareness. It wasn’t grief. It wasn’t even shock.

He was sorry.

Those were the first words out of his mouth.

I’m sorry.

I stood there, not knowing what he was sorry for. It was cold. I couldn’t push the screen door open very far because of the snow blocking it. And my father was standing at the bottom of the steps James had helped my husband build, his hands shoved down far into his pockets like a penitent child about to get in trouble, telling me he was sorry.

James is dead, he finally said. He’s in his house. I went up there and he’s dead.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I do now - just now, this very moment in fact, I know that I was the first person he told. He came straight from James’ house to mine and told me my brother was dead.

I don’t know what I said back to him, I just remember sitting down on the top step and feeling the cold bite of the snow through my pajama pants. There’s a vague recollection of putting my face in my hands, and the embarrassing knowledge that I did that simply because I didn’t know what else to do. And dad just stood there, nervously stepping from foot to foot in the snow, because he didn’t know what else to do either.

I think I asked How at some point. He said he didn’t know. He had something in his pocket but to this day I don’t know what it was.

I don’t know if it was important. Something tells me it was. Or maybe it was just the eternally present handkerchief he always kept on him.

I’m sorry, he said again. He seemed to feel like it was his fault somehow. I’m sorry.

What do we do? I asked him. I’ve never felt more blank. What are we supposed to do?

I don’t remember what he said, other than he was going to get my older brother. I remember thinking that was a good idea. Robbie would know what to do. He always did. Brash and blustery and bigmouthed, he got things done while other people stood around debating how to do them. He would get on it, whatever needed doing. He would figure it out.

I went back in the house and dad walked away, headed down the path through the woods that connected my house to Robbie’s, hands still shoved deep in his pockets, the big retro vintage Chrysler emblem on the back of his jacket the last thing I saw before I pulled the screen door shut. I stared down for a minute at the mound of snow it had scooped into my livingroom, still with no clue what I was supposed to do.

No clue at all.

I kicked the snow back outside and shut the door.

----------

It’s an odd thing, watching the coroner’s van drive away with someone you know inside it. Someone you saw just yesterday. Someone who was alive. Someone who should still be alive but isn’t, somehow. And since there’s really no way to earn a ride in a coroner’s van without dying, there’s an awful unsettling sensation to it that you can’t get away from. The last time I saw James he was laughing that devious little laugh of his, his eyes red and bloodshot from the ever present asthma he’d suffered with his entire life. I don’t count the sight of the coroner’s van leaving the hill via our long steep driveway with his cold corpse tucked into a black zippered bag, because I didn’t see him. I never saw him. I didn’t see him dead in his house and I didn’t see them carry him out, I didn’t see them put him in the van. I didn’t see him later, when it was all over with. And if I try hard enough I can imagine that van empty, with that long black bag tossed crumpled in the back without a body in it, and James somewhere else living his life however the hell he pleases.

I hold onto that. Some days it helps. And some days I think I see him, walking by the side of the road or getting out of a car in the post office parking lot, and it makes me happy thinking he escaped. I see him in every hitchhiker, in every wandering traveler making his way down the interstate, in every tall thin man I glimpse from the corner of my eye as I go about my business in town.

He’s out there.

I hope he’s happy.

The ice storm hit the next day.

----------

For the next two weeks we were stuck on our hill. Power out, no electricity, no heat, no lights, roads iced over and impassable. We all piled up in mom and dad’s house, quietly grieving James, trying to stay warm. Most of the state lost power for days, including the city 150 miles away where his body had been taken to the state coroner’s office. There was no apparent cause of death, so the state ordered an autopsy.

His body had just been placed into cold storage to wait its turn when the power grid went down. And then, by some unholy stroke of nightmarish luck, the facility’s generators failed.

Nobody could make it in to work because of the ice. By the time someone finally got into the morgue the cold storage had been down for four days.

Six bodies melted, including James.

----------

No viable autopsy could be done, though they tried their best I suppose. The end report was obtained two months later. It was mostly inconclusive due to the long delay and resultant decomposition of tissue. There was apparent scarring on James’ heart, but it was old scarring and had nothing to do with his death. His lungs were scarred as well, but that was no surprise, he’d had severe asthma his entire life. There was no determinable cause of death, no inflicted trauma, no presence of illicit drugs as far as they could tell from the limited toxicology report they managed with what they had to work with.

No reason.

He’d simply died.

It seemed fitting, to me at least, that the end of him be enshrouded in an unsolvable mystery. He was a secretive person, intensely private. He would have loved knowing nobody had a clue what happened to him.

And so we drew our own conclusion as a family. He’d had an asthma attack in his sleep. There had been an inhaler next to his bed, but it was new and still in the box. He simply hadn’t woken up to use it. Dad didn’t participate in the drawing of this conclusion, his input kept stoically to himself, like he knew something the rest of us didn’t.

We pretended not to see it.

He and mom braved the last of the ice a few days later to make the 150 mile drive to see James one last time.

They came back different.

You couldn’t tell it was him, my mother said. He was melted, literally. It was like one of those science fiction movies where they melt you with a laser beam and you turn to goo.

Dad had nothing to say. He went to bed and stayed there until the next day.

You can go see him, mom told me. I’ll go with you if you want to go. But I don’t recommend it.

I decided not to go.

And so I never saw my brother dead. I never saw any proof that he was gone. He just wasn’t there anymore. There was no funeral, he was cremated and his ashes were sent home weeks later, and I went on with my life with the image in my head of James, alive, somewhere else.

----------

Dad was different from that day on. He’d always been stoic, terse, strict. My childhood had been spent in fear of him, an eternal dread of making him mad and feeling his temper erupt keeping me from showing any hint of a personality during my formative years. The cult had forced him to abide by the violent tenet of Spare the rod, spoil the child and there was never any risk of me being spoiled.

James being gone flipped a switch in him. He was nicer suddenly. Mellow. Kind. After the trauma wore off his humor discovered itself and he was funny. The dour angry demeanor fell off and revealed a man that I was sad never to have known before. He and I became friends. I could sense in his new attitude toward me that he regretted how he’d raised me and respected the way I’d always stood up and been my own person despite it. But my mother was falling off the deep end and for all the newfound easygoingness of my father, she counterbalanced it with an extremism born of the religious fervor of a mother determined to gain enough favor with God to see her dead child again. And she was going to make sure the rest of us did too.

We all had to get good and straight on the path, get completely right and stay that way, or we’d never see James again. He’d be in the New World and we wouldn’t, and how would she explain that to him? She and I worked together in a law office at the time and as she became more unhinged and unpleasant, I reacted by becoming more outgoing and accomplished. Our boss changed my work designation from receptionist to Executive Assistant and started teaching me how to do everything from filing papers at the courthouse to photographing accident scenes. I no longer answered to my mother, the office manager. I answered directly to the boss.

That didn’t go over well. She was a control freak with heavy untreated trauma, and the one person in the world she felt the most obsessive need to control was suddenly no longer under her thumb in a workspace where she considered herself the supreme authority. She countermanded every order the boss gave me and tried to load me up with general office chores that left me no time to do the important assignments he’d given me. I had no choice but to tell her she wasn’t my superior anymore.

She chose that day to have her nervous breakdown over James, jumping out of my car at a red light on the way home and storming angrily through a shopping mall with me trailing frantically along behind her, yelling for security to arrest me while I tried to get her to calm down. I ended up telling her she wasn’t the only person who lost James but that none of the rest of us were allowed to experience our own grief because we were too busy catering to hers.

She sat down on a bench outside the sporting goods store and glared at me with a cold hatred I’ve seen on very few other faces, ever.

I knew it would be you, she hissed at me.

That moment changed our relationship forever. It changed me forever. That was the day I decided my life was my own, that she not only didn’t have authority over me at work, she didn’t have authority over me anywhere else either. She could no longer dictate my actions, my behavior, my thoughts and feelings.

For this she disowned me. It was the first of several disownings over the next few years. I got used to it. We went to work the next day like nothing had happened, and I didn’t do a single thing on the task list she slapped down on my desk. It was a metaphor for the rest of my life, but I didn’t know it yet.

My husband and I moved out of state a couple of months later, away from that hill, away from her increasingly controlling paranoia and bitterness, the first of many small steps toward freedom.

As we were driving away with our trailer full of personal belongings behind us, he said one thing that I tried to argue against, but that somewhere deep inside I knew was probably right.

That land is cursed, he said.

----------

A few weeks before we moved my youngest brother came to town and we went into James’ house together. It was exactly like it had been the day my dad found him. The only thing that stood out as different was the bare mattress on the bed - the men from the coroner had wrapped him up in the sheet he’d been laying on and took it with them, leaving just the naked springform mattress James had bought for Jessica right before her final breakdown and their subsequent separation.

It took me a while to go in the bedroom, but I knew from the moment I walked into the house that I was going to end up there. I needed to see it, the place where James had closed his eyes and left us.

There was a small puddle of dried blood near the foot of the bed, brown and stained into the fabric. James always slept backwards, with his head at the wrong end. The blood had come from his nose.

I touched it. I don’t know why. It was dry.

He was gone.

----------

David and I laughed a lot that day. James had been funny in a way that was distinctly him, quiet and of few words, but those words had always counted. And as we sorted through his things and talked about him and moved some of his stuff into boxes to be stored away, I felt as much awed respect as befuddlement at what was around me. He’d never been a conformist, which I knew was why the cult had never gotten a firm grasp on him. He was unknowable and therefore unbindable. But his house was proof that he didn’t conform to any human expectations either, and nothing in it made sense unless you’d spent time around him.

There was an engine in the bathtub. I’m not sure what it went to. Another engine, in the beginning stages of disassemblage, rested on a blue tarp in the center of the livingroom floor, obviously the last project he’d been working on. There wasn’t much furniture - his wife had taken most of it when she left and it would have never entered his mind to replace any of it. Jessica’s cookware was in the kitchen cabinets, unused, some of it still in the original boxes, some not even fully unwrapped from their wedding shower years before. Jessica didn’t cook, she microwaved. David asked me if I thought it would be okay for him to take a glass Pyrex measuring cup because he’d broken his. I told him to take it. It had never been used.

I didn’t want anything, but knew I needed to take something. One of my husband’s solo CDs was sitting on the entertainment center and the cover, the cover I’d designed, caught my eye and brought me to the CD player to pop the tray open.

Inside was a CD single of The Way.

It was the only thing I took.

----------

My husband told me some time later that my dad and older brother had altered the scene before the police arrived. After the phonecall from me his boss had rushed him home and he’d gone up to James’ house without my knowledge. He’d thought it strange that he’d had to step around at least a dozen empty compressed air cans scattered haphazardly around the place as he entered, like they’d been used and tossed aside one after another. There had been several more on the floor around the bed. My father had told him to go back down and see how mom and I were doing, and when he returned to James’ house after the coroner’s departure, the cans were gone. Other than that he said things seemed different, but he couldn’t say quite how. Just not the same.

He told me my dad didn’t call the police until after he and Robbie had been in there at least an hour, alone with the body.

It’s not something we’ve talked about often, because there’s no satisfactory explanation for it that either of us can come up with. My mother says they probably didn’t want the police to assume the cans meant he was huffing compression fluid and accidentally killed himself, because Look at the shame and reproach that would bring on the congregation if anyone thought such a thing! We all knew he used the compressed air to clear the valves on the engines he was working on, all mechanics do, it’s common. Wouldn’t the police have accepted that explanation? Dad was the only one that spoke to them. They wrote down whatever he said, and then they left, and then the coroner came and took James away and that was that. My father, the most upright straight-and-narrow devoutly dedicated man I’ve ever known in my life, misled the police for a reason that he took with him to his own grave.

The only other person in the world who knew the truth about it took it to his grave too.

At the same time.

In the same car.

Four years later, on October 18, 2002.

----------

The big garbage bag of empty air cans and whatever else that was removed from James’ house that morning had been stashed in my dad’s garage and stayed there until a few weeks after he and Robbie’s joint funeral, when my mother asked my husband’s old boss to come and dispose of it. Scott was a man who knew people who could do things.

The evidence, whatever it was evidence of, vanished.

----------

The mystery around James never dissolved and eventually no one talked about it anymore, I guess because there was no way we could ever truly find out what happened without him here to tell us. There were a lot of details that we could never find a way to weave together into anything that made sense and a lot of it was probably inconsequential anyway. There was a girlfriend that he’d tried to keep hidden from us, a woman that was quite a bit older than him who wasn’t a member of the cult and therefore needed to be kept a secret. In the end she had convinced him to stop hiding their relationship and he’d bought her a ring. We met her all of twice before he died, and within days of his passing she left town with her brother and never came back, taking whatever she might have known with her.

James’ ex Jessica had sneaked onto the hill and broken into his house to put a dead raccoon in his kitchen sink a few days prior to his death. We were shocked when he told us she trespassed on the land often without anyone knowing, and my mother made my father fix the electric gate down at the road so that it wouldn’t open without one of three clickers in the possession of herself, my father, and me. James would have to come to her house and get hers any time he needed to leave the hill, an arrangement he agreed to because Jessica stole things from his house all the time, she would absolutely take a gate opener if she saw it.

He told us the gate wouldn’t keep her out though, and that she didn’t come in that way anyway. The only way to protect ourselves from her was to lock her up and he doubted even that would do it.

He died less than a week later, and twenty three years later we still don’t know how or why.

----------

We never felt safe on the hill again. Jessica was deranged in the worst possible way, we’d known it for a while, and James was her obsession. She’d threatened to kill him multiple times and had tried twice. We hadn’t known this, because James, big strong stoic Clint Eastwood type that he was, wasn’t about to tell anyone he was violently abused for years by a skinny little woman that everyone believed was not much more than a meek dormouse with shyness issues and a case of painful awkwardness. But we knew she was evil. We just didn’t have any proof.

The first thing my mother said after the initial emotional breakdown of finding her son dead was Jessica did this, I don’t know how but I know she did it.

I believe she was probably right. But if Jessica was anything she was wily and devious with a strong survival instinct and an uncanny ability to lie convincingly and draw sympathy onto herself. She’d convinced us for years that she was the perfect combination of sweetly harmless and endearingly clueless, but that only lasted until the day she called 911 screaming that James was beating her and then threw herself face first into a tree in their front yard and sat, calmly singing and coloring in a coloring book on the porch with blood running down her forehead, waiting for the police to arrive. The act she put on when they got there was one for the Academy, but the officers didn’t buy it.

James calmly rolled up his sleeves and showed them his scars where she’d burned him and slashed him with a kitchen knife. He pulled up his shirt and pointed out the marks she’d left on him with her teeth and nails. He hooked a finger into his mouth and showed them the empty hole where she’d knocked one of his teeth out with a baseball bat. One of the officers asked him why he hadn’t killed her and buried her somewhere on the land already.

She left in the back of the squad car, and my mother took James to the courthouse to get divorce papers started two days later.

Jessica came to his memorial service when we finally had it, several weeks after his death. She wasn’t invited but we couldn’t keep her from coming. She wore black like a widow and created a dramatic disruption complete with loud wailing and declarations of undying love, and afterward she stood to one side of the room, smirking at us with the kind of icy malice that you only see on the dangerously deranged, and then usually only in the movies. Several people commented in hushed voices, asking why she’d been allowed to come. At one point she started wailing They killed him!!, but everyone with the exception of her mother ignored her.

Her mother, who was still in our congregation, flitted around the room chatting with everyone, sobbing her heart out like it was her own son we’d just memorialized. She was an ER nurse and had been famously fired from her job at the hospital for taking locked-cabinet medications home by the purse load. She claimed she put them in her pocket to use on her shift and forgot to return them to the cabinet before leaving.

Jessica had been staying with her for a while.

----------

We fed the crowd at mom’s later that afternoon with my husband and his boss guarding the gate, making sure she didn’t try to come into my mother’s house. The police were called preemptively, and because this was a town of 300 with not much of anything else to do, a squad car was dispatched and stationed near the inlet to the main drive.

Jessica showed up not much later, like we knew she would. She drove past the police and parked a few yards down from them in plain sight, just sitting there by the side of the road, far enough away from our property that we couldn’t legally do anything about it. The officers got out and talked to her, warned her not to cause us any problems, and she fed them a woeful tale about being banned from her beloved husband’s memorial service and denied the right to say goodbye to him.

The officers knew there was no body at that service to say goodbye to. They also knew her.

My husband came up the hill and told us she was down at the road and that Scott was blocking the driveway with his truck to keep her out. I told my mother it was time to file a restraining order against her. She was living in fear and Jessica was known to be trespassing on our property frequently. No, she told me with tears in her eyes but not a sign of distress on her face. It was a look I knew, because my mother rarely showed emotion unless she was angry and the rest of the time it was this cold detachment. That would bring reproach on the congregation because everyone knows what we are. I can’t do that. I won’t let her win that way. I won’t let her cause us to bring shame on God’s name.

God’s name. I took it in vain that day.

More than once.

I was leaving in a few weeks, moving a thousand miles away. My husband and I weren’t going to be there to help her keep an eye out, and thirty eight acres of heavily wooded land is impossible to protect and easy to sneak onto from a hundred different directions, James had shown us proof of that.

God will protect us as long as we do the right thing and leave it to him, she said. He knows what she is.

I think it was just a coincidence that nothing terrible happened in the following weeks, because my faith was getting tenuous and a lot of prayers were going unanswered. But Jessica quietly disappeared back to her own world after a couple of infuriating weeks of putting herself in our paths every chance she got, and not long after that my husband and I moved away, and as we left the driveway for what we thought would be the last time he sighed and shook his head with the exasperation of a man about to say I told you so.

“That land is cursed,” he said.

I tried to disagree, though I don’t know why.

----------

Less than a mile up the road we passed a man walking. He was tall and thin and covered in the dust of a long journey with a ratty backpack strapped to his back, and as we passed him I caught his reflection in the side mirror.

It was James, I knew it in my heart every bit as strongly as I knew it couldn’t be.

He was walking away from the hill, toward the west. The way we were going. And I swear on whatever holy relic you wish to place under my hand that he raised his head and met eyes with me in the mirror, and he smiled.

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fandomtookoverlife · 4 years ago

Text

Spiral

Pairing: Hotch x fem!reader

Summary: you received some life-changing news the day before, now you’re trying to keep focus and get a confession out of an unsub. Keeping focus has never been so hard, with your mind spinning and Hotch sending you further down the rabbit hole. Somehow things get even worse when the psychic unsub announces your news for all to hear.

Note: italics are reader thoughts

Warning: anxiety/panic attack, break down, swearing

Word count: 1.7k

Category: angst(?)

A/N: this is not based on the cm with a psychic. Def channelling my own breakdowns while writing this, I hope it comes off how I intended.

I might do a second part where we learn of Hotch’s and reader’s relationship and we then jump to his reaction

Back story: in my mind the reader and Hotch like each other fucked, it became awkward and here we are

Other blog: @mac99martin

Masterlist

---

Fuck psychics, sitting there all-knowing when everyone knows they’re full of shit, you don’t like psychics on normal days, when they’re unsubs, you hate them even more. Fuck psychics.

Ok maybe your new found hate for psychics isn’t totally about them, (although the one in front of you definitely plays a part in it) you may have found out some very stressful, very shocking, life-altering news yesterday and you also may not be dealing with it very well. And by not dealing with it well, you mean not dealing with it at all. You've been avoiding and ignoring it, the rational part of your brain is telling you that this is not something you can ignore, but the other part of your brain is absolutely terrified and is using the case as an excuse not to deal with it. And you are using your dislike for psychics as an outlet for your emotions, is it right? No. is it healthy? No. but it’s helping and you’re freaking out so what are you going to do?

Speaking of not helping, Hotch is with the unsub now. Not only is he not getting anywhere with her, but he is also so horribly distracting. You seriously need to focus but looking at him, all it’s doing is sending you into a spiral. All you want to do is put this unsub behind bars but your mind is fighting with itself: one part actively fighting to keep your brain far away from the topic that will remain nameless and unthought about. The other going in circles of panic and anxiety and terror. The unsub is helping the first, she’s a handy distraction. Hotch is helping the latter, you so much catch a glimpse of him and you revert into the frenzy that is your mind. Fuck, this fucking sucks, ok come on can’t focus on that, you can’t cry or stop breathing that can wait till later, now you need to focus.

And that’s where the loop starts all over again: Focus-Hotch-Spiral-Focus-Hotch-Spiral...

-Focus You’re so lost in the war going on in your mind you completely lose all sense of reality only noticing that Hotch is not only no longer in the integration room when he calls your name.

You try your best to snap out of it and control your breathing, but looking at Hotch, Hotch looking at you, you feel like you're shaking while your body remains perfectly still, your heart is pounding and you stop breathing. Okokok-breathe, focus, what’s going on right now.

“Sorry, what was that?” Ok not bad that sounded pretty normal if you do say so yourself.

“I asked what you thought.” His voice was stern and annoyed but his face looked worried.

Snap. The. Fuck. Out. Of. It. “Oh um,” wait who’s said what, shit I really should have been paying attention. “Well clearly she wasn’t responding to you,” ok pretty good, actually now that you think about it she wasn’t responding to any of the male officers when they arrested her, “and she didn’t respond to the male officer earlier, anytime she talks to a man she becomes confident and flirtatious” Flirting: Hotch-Spiral, Focus “we should see how she reacts to a woman.”

Ok, so you had your ups and downs but all in all that went pretty well. You avert your eyes from Hotch’s, focus focus focus focus… “Ok you’re in.”

“Wh- me?”

“Yes… you.”

You know what? this can be good, small room, nothing to focus on except the case, no Hotch, ya I can do this. You give a nod, pick up your file and walk into the room.

“Hello Ms.Shaw, I’m ssa Y/N Y/L/N.” you look down at your file making a show out of opening it while also keeping an eye on her.

When Hotch entered earlier, doing something similar, she straightened her back and leaned forward, making a show out of her breasts, she half smirked and half-smiled when she looked up at him.

When you introduce yourself she sat back in her seat, crossed her arms and glared at you. Unlike when she saw Hotch, she looked very displeased with you.

You sat down across from her and gave her a smile, she narrowed her eyes and furthered her glare towards you. She eyes you up and down for a second before practically sneering at you, “what do you want”

“I just want to talk” you put simply

Maintaining eye contact she leaned forward “Bet you do”

At this point, with Hotch, she had a smile on her face, enthusiastic to speak with him. Right now, she’s almost challenging you, she’s even getting defensive.

“Probably want to talk about those murders you think I did”

“The murders you did do” you respond all while having a sweet smile on your face. Won’t that just piss her off, and it does.

She just hums in response, her face stone cold, staring you up and down, and then, she smiles, “I think we should talk about you.” She says it almost sweetly but you can tell that there’s mischief behind it.

“Oh?”

“Ya, you’ve been… busy lately…”

you really couldn’t guess where she was going with this at this point, nowhere good so, “as have you” you retort back.

“Hmm, but in different ways,” she smirks

Hell ya in different ways, I’ve been working my ass off and you’ve been murdering people.

“See I’ve been busy working, as a psychic, I use my power to help people, it’s very time-consuming-”

Right power, helping, you don’t have and you don’t do shit

“While you,” she looks you up and down again, “have been getting a very different sort of busy, haven’t you?”

….wh- what is she- what is she even implying right now?

Busy like- and that’s when you’re reminded of your… state. Remembering hits you like a ton of bricks, solely because you had forgotten, the thought has your mind clouded again and your anxiety spiking.

You’re back down a spiral, get back on topic this isn’t the time, “I’m not sure what you're getting at.” Breathe, “Oh come on, you know,” and she looks down again, if the table wasn’t in the way, you would say that she’s looking at your stomach, no no she’s not why would she- how could she- your mind is biased, it was already thinking about that and it jumped to conclusions, get back on topic. You can’t be thinking about this now. -focus.

She leans in but doesn’t lower her voice, glancing up at the mirror, she’s very aware that people are listening in, and she doesn’t mind, “you’re pregnant”

Wtfwtfwtfwtf no no no no, how could she possibly know that, you just found out, it’s not like your showing, she can’t know, how the fuck did she know that?

She can see it all over your face, your mind is jumbled with thoughts again and you’re freaking out.

She just sat back and smiled watching you break down, but she wasn’t done yet.

The people behind the mirror couldn’t see your face to see how bad you’re freaking out, that mixed with their own shock, they weren’t helping, not that they nor you would know how they would help.

“You looked surprised that I know that, you doubt my skills” skills- what- psychic- whatever

“Or maybe you’re just in shock, you just found out recently right,” she clicks her tongue, “must be quite the surprise.” You feel so overwhelmed, this was supposed to get you away from all of that, your spiralling again, unable to pull yourself out of your break down that has been going on since you found out. Once again just the thought, the reminder, has you feeling like you can’t breathe, like you're going to be sick, like your head is spinning. “I can see this is a lot for you, but I think you’re forgetting one thing,”

Spiral-spiral-spiral forgetting? Wha- wh- spiral-spiral-spiral-Hotch

Your heart stops, you look her dead in the eye, you can see it, the mischief, she knows, she opens her mouth to say something- “SHUT UP” you stand up and yell at her. You’re panicked and desperate,

Your outburst shocks everyone behind the mirror, but it only makes her smile wider, “what you don’t want everyone to know?”

“STOP” your losing it

“Or you don’t want him to know?”

(ok fine, maybe she is psychic)

“SHUT UP” you scream, your voice is cracking and your breaking

“What you don’t want everyone to know your pregnant and that one of them got you-”

“STOP!” You slam your hand on the table and your eyes are watering.

Morgan busts through the door, taking you into his arms and steering you out of the interrogation room and into the viewing room, only giving the unsub a glance as he slams the door behind him.

Once you are in the viewing room you turn away from your team, your eyes still glossy, you’re shaking, you can barely breathe, that panic attack-mental breakdown you’ve been putting off, it’s finally catching up to you, and your feeling every second of the overwhelming… you don’t even know, just everything, and still trying to hold it in as you hyperventilate and remember the people around you.

You do your best to hold in your emotions for a little longer as you go to leave the room, away from people. You hear Derek’s voice, “how much of that was true?”

One more second one more second one more second,

In out, in out, in out, “every word” is all you get out before you lose it and you basically run away.

“Shittt,” the event weighs heavy on the team’s mind as they make sense of what just happened, “well, it wasn’t me.” Morgan, trying to lighten the mood best he can

The team looks around the room “Well it certainly wasn’t me” Rossi horrified at what has just played out in front of him

Spence's face goes absolutely red when Derek looks at him; he doesn’t have to say anything because as hotch speed walks out of the room, it is very clear who the father is.

“Shitttt”

---

Tags: @spencers-renaissance @averyhotchner

(I’ll tag anyone in part 2 who asks for it in the comments😘😘)

317 notes · View notes

prettylittlebutterflie · 3 years ago

Text

It All Started With A Break

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31840603

Okay, so I have fallen down the rabbit hole known as MariBat and I just can't stop all the ideas I have because of this and decided that enough is enough and I am doing it.

This is my very first fanfic - or any fic actually - but I hope you guys like it and be WARNED that some of you may find some part of this story that's similar with another and that may've been because I really liked the idea when I read it and wanna have a kinda similar thing here and the same goes with some trope of this fanfic in the future, but I'll do my best to keep it unique. I am also new to the DCU, but I'm doing research and planning to binge watch stuff and if you could please help this poor soul find a way to navigate and somehow get an idea on how that universe work (especially abt the batfam), I'll be forever grateful to thy savior.

This fic is canon until S4 Ep 1&2 (Truth & Lie) of MLU and as for the rest, I'll let you guys know.

So yeah, that's all. Enjoy and hope you guys like it. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

P.S. Sorry I kinda ranted, this is my first time actually posting smth so bear with me people

SYNOPSIS

It’s been four years ever since Hawkmoth, who now goes by the name Shadow Moth, began his reign of terror in Paris. Four years worth of akumas that have brought pain and suffering. Four years of no rest in controlling their emotions, afraid of what may come if they were controlled.

After four long years, the Miraculous Team can finally see a ray of light. Everything they have sacrificed for that one goal they all share is finally going to be repaid… Not.

Locating Hawkmoth was easier said than done, and the frustration is finally getting to them. With that, it was decided that they need a break from their hero lives — ok, maybe not. After all, Shadow Moth is proving himself to be a workaholic (like dude, don’t you have anything better to do than destroy everyone’s schedule?) — but anyways, it was clear. THEY. NEED. A. BREAK. Away from Paris. Away from Hawkmoth. Away from the frickin akumas.

So yeah, that��s how it was decided (more like forced) that they are going to America to relax, let loose, and have some fun. After all, who knows, maybe a break is all they need to get things to start getting better — or worse.

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PROLOGUE

“Alright. So, we are going to take a break—”

“For two months.”

“For two months. And because it’s supposed to be a break, that means—”

“No thinking of anything Moth related.”

“No thinking of anything Moth rela— Moth related?”

“You know, Hawkmoth, Red Moth, Shadow Moth, those Moths.”

“Right. Moths. Aside from Moths, it also means—’

“No thinking of akumas.”

“No thinking of akumas. For this entire break, we’re not going to think about—”

“Anything Miraculous related.”

“Anything Miraculous related. Alya, do you really need to do that every time I’m about to say it?”

“It’s because she knows you. We know you. It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, how you always promise not to worry about something, especially anything Miraculous related, just to break it the moment anything related to it comes up. So, yes. She needs to say it and repeat it as much as possible for it to go through that head of yours.”

“Guys, I swear, I’m really going to follow through with this plan. I did agree that we need to unwind ourselves since we’re getting way too stressed and that won’t help us focus on our job.”

“Only after we bugged you about it. Get it? Bugged. Pfft—”

“Hey! Puns are my thing. And you shouldn’t be saying it like that. You’re making it ape-solutely obvious and that makes it not punny anymore”

“Dude, do you really have to do that? That’s so not paw-some. Pfft—”

“All puns aside, it is true that we had to convince you, Mari-hime, to agree on taking a break. Although I rarely take a break from fencing, my Mother and I are aware of the importance of having one and may I also remind you that you were the one who taught us that.”

“And that’s why I told you guys to go have one.”

“But you plus the kitty are the ones who need it the most. Remember what future-me said? About you two always leading us and how she— or rather I am the last one called upon? That means you guys are always gonna work while the rest of us may or may not be needed in some fights.”

“There is a 97.6% probability of you two showing up in fights.”

“Because we have to. It’s our responsibility as the one leading our team.”

“M’lady’s right. Besides, there were only the two of us in the beginning and with all the akumas, we just got used to it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to rest. The music I’m hearing from both of you is filled with the stress you guys have and it doesn’t sound nice. Maybe you two unwinding will help make it more beautiful and even more powerful than before.”

“Fine. We’re all taking a break—”

“Especially you and Adrien.”

“Especially Adrien and I, for a month. Now, does anyone have any ideas on how we're gonna do that?”

“Ooh! Me, me! I have a competition coming up this summer break so I can’t really go anywhere too far since I have some training to do.”

“I’m sticking with the ape. Gotta keep an eye on him if I don’t want him messing up with the timeline. Plus, it’ll be pretty fun beating him up every time he asks for a challenge.”

“Hey!”

“The same goes for me. Someone has to make sure the correct time is recorded with not a single millisecond of it missed. Kwami knows how many times he messes it up whenever he does the recording himself.”

“Okay. So Kim, Alix, and Max will be staying in Paris. Are you guys sure that you’ll be able to take a break even if you’re in the city?”

“Yeah, we're fine. And I am totally beating you next time, little bunny.”

“Whatever. There’s nothing wrong with dreaming, y’know.”

“Anything else?”

“Oh, I have an internship in America this coming summer. The one at the Daily Planet. I just got the email and I was finally given an invite!”

“Really? Cool! Told you you’ll get it, babe!”

“Yeah! That’s really awesome, Alya! So I’m assuming you'll be accepting that?”

“You got it, girl! I mean, this is the Daily Planet we’re talkin’ about. I’ll learn so much about writing and journalism there, I’ve just got to take it.”

“So Alya’s going to America. Anyone else with plans outside of the country?”

“There will be an upcoming world-class fencing competition this summer and Mother and I have discussed my participation in it. It will be held in the States as well, specifically Gotham, two weeks before the end of the summer break. Maybe you should participate in it as well, Adrien. That way, you’ll have an excuse for your father to leave the country. I’m sure Mother will be happy to convince him as well to let you participate in it. That way, at the very least, I’ll have someone I know who’ll be an actual challenge.”

“Really? That actually sounds great! I’m sure Father would agree if your mother’s the one who suggested it. Thanks Kagami!”

“Okay. Kagami and hopefully Adrien will have a fencing competition in America too.”

“My Dad is having a tour in America right now. He’ll be having the last one at Metropolis during the summer break. He actually wants me to go with him, but I declined. It’ll be great if we all could go there and see it.”

“Dude, that’s so cool! Maybe you’ll even get to perform with your dad on stage. You did make that song with him that reached the record chart’s top. I’ve even made a playlist based on it.”

“Okay then, that makes Alya, Kagami, Adrien, and Luka going to the States. Chloe, do you also have plans to go there this summer? Maman said your mother was thinking of inviting you to be one of the models in an upcoming fashion show there.”

“She did mention something like that, but I wasn’t really paying attention to details once I found out that it’ll be outside of Paris. I’ll discuss it with her again then I can have my much needed vacation in the States.”

“So now that makes five of you going to America. Nino?”

“Well, I don’t really have any plans this summer. Just chill out and relax, y’know, make some playlist, listen to some music.”

“Ooh! How about you come with us, babe? That’ll be so cool and not all of us will be doing something most of the time while we’re there. You can just chill and relax there and maybe you could even study the kind of music they listen to and make a playlist out of it.”

“I would love to go, but I don’t think I really got the money for it. ‘Sides, my parents might not allow me to go out of the country.”

“You’re already 18 and if your parents ever say no, just tell them that you want to really relax, without keeping your emotions in check and have the freedom to let it out. I’m sure they’ll understand and unlike my Father, they actually listen to you.”

“As for the money, I have some savings and if you want I can lend you some-”

“But-”

“Lend. I’m not just giving it to you. You will have to pay me back, alright? And if you try to say no again, I’m going to insist that you don’t pay me anymore.”

“You sure? You're the best! Thanks, Minette.”

“No problem. So now that makes six of them—”

“Seven.”

“What?”

“Seven. We’re including you.”

“Me? But Alya, I already got plans this summer.”

“Plans? What plans?”

“I was planning on working on my commissions this summer an— Guys, can you all stop rolling your eyes on me and no, Chloe. I don’t need you doing it again.”

“Girl! We all agreed that we’re going to take a break this summer. How does doing your commissions sound like a break to you?”

“You all got your own thing to do this summer and mine just happens to be those. Also, the break was for anything Miraculous related. My commissions don't exactly fall under that.”

“Nope. We actually all agreed that for you, commissions should be added to the list of things you get to take a break from.”

“Adrien! I thought you’re supposed to be my partner? So much for the two of us against the world.”

“He is still your partner alright. But also, as someone who truly cares about you, he decided that you really needed a break. And besides girl, this could be your chance!”

“Chance? What chance?”

“Your pen pal! Doesn’t he live in Gotham? You could go and finally meet him. Who knows? Maybe something might happen.”

“Ooh, he’s from there? That’s awesome! You should totally go meet him. Maybe you could even go on a date or two-”

“A date?! Kim, he’s just a frie-”

“You stop right there, Dupain-Cheng! It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! All of us already had enough with Adrikins always calling you ‘just a friend’ when it’s pretty obvious how totally untrue that statement was. We don’t need you ending up just like him, thank you very much.”

“But he really is-”

“Yeah right. If he really is just a friend, then why do you guys stay up all night talking to each other? You always immediately check your phone whenever a notif comes up and you smile like a love-sick fool whenever you read his messages for you. And don’t get me started on the way you gush about him non-stop.”

“There is something beautiful in your music whenever you talk or even think about him.”

“Your smiles are much brighter compared to before the two of you got to know each other.”

“Markov and I also have a record of your heartbeat and we have observed your heart beating faster whenever we talk about this certain topic.”

“And it's been more than a year since you two have become pen pals. The two of you are now so close that it’s a wonder why you guys still haven’t video-called each other just because you insist for your first time seeing each other to be in person.”

“I think it’s rather romantic. They’ll look into each other’s eyes for the first time then BAM! They’re finally together. But I still plan on giving him a shovel talk the first chance I get. Can’t have him break my twin’s heart without him knowing I have the god of destruction on my side.”

“What do you mean shovel talk- I mean, what even gives you the idea that he thinks of me that way for you guys to assume that we’ll end up in… in that kind of relationship?”

“He’d be an idiot if he still hasn’t fallen in love with you.”

“Literally almost everyone I know had a crush on you or have you forgotten already that my boyfriend’s one of those people?”

“I know for a fact that that’s true since I’ve already admitted that one of my reasons why I began bullying you back then was because I had a crush on you.”

“I must admit, I think I also had the same feeling towards you at the beginning of our friendship until I really got to know Luka and you helped us get together.”

“Oh! There’s also that. Do you actually know just how many people you’ve helped get together, buginette? Alya’s even written an article about it at the Ladyblog of how you are also known as Paris’s own cupid and how all of the couples you’ve paired ended up living a happy life together.”

“Everyone’s been saying how Ladybug’s the next best person they can go to if they ever want to find love after Andre.”

“And yet every time you try to pair yourself with someone, the magic just doesn’t seem to work.”

“So we all decided that we’ll be Ladybug’s cupid and pair her up with the boy she just can’t seem to get off of her head.”

“Now, you coming or what? I won’t be taking the money you’ll be lending me if you say no. I’m only going with these dudes if you also come or else I’ll just end up getting bored when there’s no one who can go around the city with me.”

“...”

“““...”””

“Fine. You guys win—”

“““YES!”””

“So here’s the final plan for the break. Kim, Alix, and Max will be staying in Paris for Kim’s competition, while the rest of us will be going to America doing our own stuff—”

“With you finally meeting your pen pal.”

“Yes. Alright. I’ll go and meet my pen pal. And during the break, no thinking about anything miraculous related. If ever there’s an akuma, only those who’ll be needed will go. Max will bring us to the akuma’s location and if there is anything going on that we can’t be excused of or if the fight goes longer than expected, Alix will bring us back in time making it look like we just went to the toilets, the usuals. Any questions?”

“““Non.”””

“Good. Operation: Taking a Break is good to go.”

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Yay! Finally got to post it. So comments? What do you guys think and who do you think who is saying what? I know there will be new holders in S4, but I decided I’ll either make them a temp or they still don’t know the other’s identities bc of stuff, so yeah. Still thinking abt it. Adios (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31840603

#first post #maribat #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #maridami #marinette dupen chang #damian wayne #batfam #batfamily #team miraculous #miraculous team #ml x dc #miraculous ladybug

58 notes · View notes

howlingday · 4 years ago

Text

About Jaune ships...

I have opinions. You may not agree, but they are mine. They may change in time, but not now.

LANCASTER ( RUBY X JAUNE )

The old tried and true. I mean, what's not to like? Cute girl falls for first guy she meets at Beacon? Classic romance trope, and after reading how much Ruby loves romance stories (I consider certain parts in the manga canon), it makes sense. In fact, after Arkos sank (A moment of silence, please . . . Thank you), many moved to Lancaster, which isn't bad. Happens all the time in fandoms. Sad thing, though, is far I think she'll last. If we're talking Volume 5 or earlier, then maybe. However, I feel if Ruby were to have an endgame in romance, it would be RoseGarden (I have opinions on that as well, but today isn't the day to discuss that), mostly because Oscar bumped Jaune's role from male lead to male side. Not to mention that while Jaune is becoming a beast in his own right, Ruby is a different creature altogether and evolving her character more rapidly and chaotically than anyone else (Must be all that screentime).

TLDR: I want it to be canon, but I might just be hoping.

WHITE KNIGHT ( WEISS X JAUNE)

Doofus in tin foil meets princess who hates daddy (Am I in the romance section of the library? You know, the corner for adults only?) No, but I do like this ship. I'm always a sucker for the fantasy genre, and using a zero to hero male makes it relatable. I also kind of ship it because the same reason I ship NaruSaku in the Naruto fandom: he likes her and he's willing to go the distance. But enough about that; instead let's talk about canon. Will they hook up? It's a soft maybe for me, for two reasons. 1. Rosegarden is most likely to be endgame, and after Ruby and Pyrrha, I'd say Weiss is Jaune's next to be his love interest. 2. Weiss has warmed up to Jaune. Sure, not lover or crush level (Yet), but she's definitely changed her opinion on him. In Volume 1, Jaune was bugging her, like all the time, which I could see as him getting mixed signals on (Exhibit A: Tall, blonde, and scraggly). When Volume 5 came around, everyone jumped onboard because he saved her life (Don't lie, because I'll admit that I did it, too). Not the best reason, but still reason enough, I'd say. Then in Volume 7, she hangs out with him and Oscar to the movies (It was either that or awkward Bumbleby all night. I feel ya, sister). Nothing romantic happens, but it does show how much their relationship has developed. If Weiss is Jaune's endgame, then they have set the pieces up perfectly to do so.

TLDR: High likelihood to be canon and I'm a sucker for Knight/Princess ships.

KNIGHTSHADE ( BLAKE X JAUNE)

This is the part where I say definitely not. Not in a million years, but I'll explain why I like the ship, though. As for why it won't work, the answer is Bumbleby. They haven't kissed yet, but you know they're going to eventually (Because if they don't, the fans will attack like a swarm of hornets). But here's the question you might be asking now: why do I ship this? Well, it's part of the allure of "opposites attract" ('Cause I'm dressed like a cat!). Blake is an intelligent, outspoken, and agile ninja with a criminal history of terrorism who spends her free time reading novels. Jaune is a B at best on his tests, soft-hearted, and ground-based knight who's worst crime is fraud (Still a crime, but peanuts compared to literal terrorism) and spends his free time hanging out with his team. Day and night. But they also tried that with Sun for a season and a half and it didn't last (BECAUSE BEES).

TLDR: Not even a snowball's chance in the summer sun, but so much story potential if you do (Which I do)!

DRAGONSLAYER ( YANG X JAUNE )

This, I would say, is the opposite of Knightshade, where Jaune is the day and Blake is night, here Yang is the Sun and Jaune is the Moon (Like their crests! Remember those? Y'know, when they were relevant?) Will it work? Even less so than Knightshade. However, it does open up some interesting paths considering how... provocative Yang can be, and Jaune, compared to the other guys, is the nerdiest, geekiest dude at Beacon. It's like the cheerleader/nerd romance, except the cheerleader is the captain of every sports team... and rides a motorcycle. The Volume 8 preview introduced us to Yang and Jaune riding motorcycles and we went nuts over it. Yang was back in her element, roaring down the street, riding on walls, popping off tricks with Oscar riding- Back to what I was saying, people were asking, "How did he know how to ride a motorcycle?" and the elementary answer is "He didn't." He almost fell off his bike from a small box in the road. True, anyone would, but look at how he reacts: he stiffens, he refocuses on the road. This kid literally started riding at breakfast, and I DARE you to prove me wrong. But hey, great fic material right there, though, eh?

TLDR: Never gonna happen, but I don't care. All I care about is writing that they love each other. And they also fu-!

ARKOS ( PYRRHA X JAUNE )

I'm sorry, I need a moment. . . . Alright. Do it for her. This ship... was perfect. Probably the best ship out them all. I legit almost cry every time I think about Volume 3. Pyrrha was everyone's favorite. Her background, her interactions, her choreography, everything! But, of course, like everything in our lives, she was too good to be true. But let's honor her memory by talking about her ship, Arkos. Pyrrha was the champion of the world, the Brothers' and Oums' gift to Remnant. She could do no wrong and she HATED it. Her plight was with how she was seen. Everybody knew her! Everybody, except Jaune. And he only figured out she was "a big deal" was because Weiss had to spell it out for him! As time went on, they became the best of friends, two peas in a pod, the perfect odd couple! They worked together and trusted each other, they cared for and supported each other, they lo- No. No, I can't say it. It's been years, and it still hurts. So, I'll explain something else: the reason why Jaune SHOULD NOT be shipped right now. That reason is Pyrrha. Jaune was helpless to save her. He's suffering from survivor's guilt and he's still grieving. In Volume 4, he would sneak away and train until late at night to scroll recording of her. In Volume 5, he confronted Cinder and got Weiss almost killed because he let his grief for Pyrrha take control of him and let his emotions run wild. In Volume 6, he finds the Pyrrha statue and he... I don't know how to say this, but he let's go. He accepts that Pyrrha is gone and he's starting the healing process. He's finally ready to move forward.

TLDR: T.T I never felt that it was wise to wish too much~

MARTIAL ARCS ( REN X JAUNE)

I'll be honest, I don't really ship it. Yeah, it's cute, and it falls perfectly into the "if I had to pick a guy" part of me, but to be honest, I don't ship it. 10% because Renora and 90% it just doesn't click with me. They both just seem too soft, too quiet, too introverted. Best friends? Yes, definitely! But lovers? Eeeeeh, not really.

TLDR: I will only ship as neccessary.

NORA'S ARC ( NORA X JAUNE )

I've only just got in this deep with the fandom only recently, so I don't know if a lot of you know me. Heck, I'm probably just some RWBY fan you happen to spot as you move through your dash. However, old or new, I want to be made absolutely positively clear on this. Of all the ships here, this has got to be my-

O T FUDGIN' P

Wow! Never thought I'd feel so strongly about a crack ship like this. And yes, as sad it is to say, this is a crack ship. Renora was planned from day one, so it can't be helped. At least it didn't blast me in the face all of the sudden (OH NO, NOT THE BEES! AAAAARGH! THEY'RE IN MY EYES!). But why this ship? Well, for one thing, it's that whole opposites attract thing with Nora as the bubbly, outspoken, airhead powerhouse and Jaune as the soft spoken, introverted, nerd tactician. But wait, there's more to this trope, because it can go deeper: Order VS Chaos! Who makes all the messes? Who cleans up those messes? Who follows all the rules? Who makes their own doors? It's just. So. Damn! GOOD! One sad thing about this ship though is that it's not only not canon because of Renora, it's anti-canon because Renora. Every fan fic of Nora's Arc requires an explanation for Ren and Nora to not be together-together, like you have to write a formal apology to the FNDM for liking something that's different from what is canon or commonly accepted. If that's the case, then I'll be the anarchist here!

TLDR: I LOVE IT! What's that? Not canon? Who gives a damn?! I just explained why Jaune won't be shipped anyways! Now, if you'll excuse, I have some fan fics to find.

ARCFALL ( CINDER X JAUNE )

Oh, here it goes! Now, if we're talking ships that'll never happen, this is where we find better reasons than "it's not canon" and "character development". No, this... This is a declaration of war. Allow me to explain. Cinder Fall is evil. Like, down to her core. She wants power and she'll cut through anyone to get to it. Including Pyrrha. This woman sank Arkos by means other than "X and Y kissed, so..." She killed X, leaving Y alone. And her interactions with Jaune tell me she wouldn't even be worth a hate-bang. But, as Momma always, there's a thin line between love and hate. This is where the appeal comes in. Cinder is evil with no past, which leaves the previous chapter's of her life story blank to be filled in. Jaune is good with a troublesome, albeit easy past, but untapped potential for more. It's another opposites attract, but different from INTRO VS EXTRO and CHAOS VS ORDER; this is GOOD VS EVIL. Who will win this battle of wills; will our hero purify the tainted heart, or will he slip deeper into darkness, never to return to the light?

TLDR: Should be a NOTP, and yet the allure pulls me in.

What do y'all think? Do you agree? Let me know!

307 notes · View notes

wehatejulietsimms · 3 years ago

Note

I said there would be a part three on the WTHTD video and I decided to keep it quiet a couple days ago until my gut told me to post.

Please stick with this read as it will get deep into lore and connections

My conspiracy on the scorpion tattoo part two:

In the WDHTDANCE video

there’s two girls; one blonde and brunette.

At first, a regular person might pass it off as

“Oh, two girls in the background! MV standards.”

Sadly, no.

It’s Juliet and Angie before and after Andy found out about Scientology and their wickedness.

Let me explain and backtrack the beginning theory of the music video.

It starts with Andy walking into a hotel building with a monster holding the door for him. He walks into a dark movie theatre room that relives his past memories, AKA the AUDITING ROOM or what other people refer to as the *fake* Akashic records room. (A spiritual place that stores memories that many fake spiritual gurus love to talk about in *awakening*)

What’s with this room, you ask? Scientology is known to bring people into rooms to “clean their memories and get their stories straight.”

While Andy is watching on the screen, there’s two innocent girls, as previously mentioned before, living their best life and looking flirty at a party. Sources say Andy and Juliet met at parties/festivals back in the day with Juliets family near always, which includes her sister who was trying to become an influencer as well.

Throughout the video shot, Andy’s being watched by this monster man in the background, making sure Andy is watching attentively and he’s looking at the scenes worried in regret. Furthermore, these two girls turn into hideous morphed demonic beings at the foot of this monster.

Then shows the shot of an innocent woman drowning in water.

“Oh how don’t you drown in a rain storm”

He’s asking Juliet why she isn’t exposed from the spotlight from all the shit she’s put herself in. Hint, nobody knows who the fuck she is and Andy’s asking why karma doesn’t punish her yet. (It’s coming! It’s already been hitting her!) Why hasn’t she drowned in all the fucked up situations she’s created through the years.

During the auditing process, Andy is being purged of Juliet and the Simms family secret of darkness so he can view Juliet as an angel,

like how the women think they are the monster’s little wh*re princess (excuse my language) because they think THAT monster is in control of Andy’s wording and thoughts during the auditing process. Aka Scientology, and Juliet’s father.

I believe Andy is watching carefully around their father because they come from money as well as

Jeff is an A class narcissist himself and says “peace is everything when you can fuck everyone over!” and tries to make Andy something he’s not, which is an asshole.

We don’t have to dance, is a song toward Juliet saying I’m not going to make this relationship something it’s not up to be. I know who you truly are and it’s not something that I’m going to keep loving you toward, so we can still be in a relationship because I’m stuck with you but I’m not ever going to love you (.) like I did when I was young and naive ever again.

Record scratch (auditing) ; Steve Miller Band (the joker is one of their classics)

Tattooed necks and tattooed hands

(Facade to hide in and be the person that they want him to be, so he tries to be comfortable as much as he can. ALSO, the song THE JOKER BY STEVE MILLER BAND GOES INTO DETAIL ABOUT ALWAYS BEING IN MASKED PERSONALITIES and being seen differently by everyone, which Andy feels like)

Oh, how don't you drown in a rain storm?

(Previous statement above ⬆️)

Fresh regrets, vodka sweats

(He regrets meeting her and getting married so soon and he drowns her out with vodka getting too drunk and having night terrors)

The sun is down and we're bound to get

Exhausted and so far from the shore

(I think that line perfectly states how far they’ve tried to drive him out of his “let’s create a better world” mentality & bright eyed personality into feeling exhausted and enslaved, overall not like the inner child he once had. Fucking Juliet being an older cougar and taking advantage of Andy’s youth while his parents sold him out and Ashley was a weirdo who gained half the rights to the band, not only that but his record label’s pressure, band mates, crew, friends (which are mostly Scientologists) to always go along the dotted lines like a script, literally.) He was only 18-20! A baby! who was groomed up by old Hollywood cults for selling him a dream that left him almost dead.)

You're never gonna get it

I'm a hazard to myself

I'll break it to you easy

This is hell, this is hell

You're looking and whispering

You think I'm someone else

This is hell, yes.

Literal hell.

(The fan base used to think Andy was this confident almighty saviour because he cared about us, his young sweet heart cared about helping people and he was drowning in regret and shame from the fake industry and kinfolk behind him making him feel left out, delusional, and not belonging. He was feeling a moment of weakness in these lyrics and had to put on a facade that he was some big seductive rocker dude for financial and status sake, which in multiple interviews he feels bad about because HE HAD TO DO THAT out of survival mode and not because he wanted to! Now, today he’s seasoned and getting in control)

We don't have to talk

We don't have to dance

We don't have to smile

We don't have to make friends

It's so nice to meet you,

Let's never meet again

We don't have to talk

We don't have to dance

(This is basically an ode to meeting Juliet for the first time. Or getting into a relationship with her in the beginning. He’s writing what he now would have done instead of marrying her in 2012. Didn’t they say they both hated each other when they first met? He wanted to listen to his gut instincts and he felt deep regret in those lyrics)

Bottles smash, I raise my hand

How can you all even stand it

Why is there joy in this poison, oh

Faking smiles and confidence

Driving miles to capture this excitement

I can't take anymore, oh

(He’s asking why isn’t anyone caring about fake people including literally everyone he’s surrounded by, including us.

Why we used to not care about diving into the abuse and delusional shows everyone put out there, fake smiles and fake personas to keep fans alive and happy, which is coincidentally the most popular BVB was.

I wish Andy knew that for us, it wasn’t fake and that even though he was depressed and angry inside and still showed up for BVB army is a very selfless act, because he wasn’t forced to be nice to anyone but only put on a stage act by management.

Now he’s really shining and we get to see the person he has always been for us, a neighborly seasoned person who sings his truth and we, as BVB army fans, relate to the sad darkness and happiness overcoming it too.

He’s real and always has been, even if he’s had to hide and mask for his protection.

He gained popularity and support because he was authentically himself and showing up for him when he felt the shittiest (even when he thinks he didn’t handle it correctly with fighting and alcoholism,) still he showed up and gave everything in authenticity and pure emotion, Andy style. I think he’s come to conclusion that his stage presence is something special outside of his personality and that it’s okay to express your soul on stage even if it’s changing, he’s coming back to who he’s always been inside. I think he’s channeling it in such a badass empowered way on the IN BETWEEN tour.

Congrats Andy! That man IS a true soul warrior.

Dude was fighting predators, groomers, and multiple cults by himself and still showed up (AND bettered, healed, unlearned things about his surroundings and himself) even when he felt isolated and alone! Props to Andy!

I personally interpret the scorpion tattoo as death and not forgetting to go back to the place that he was left FOR DEAD even if he feels scared or lonely.

You’re not alone, Andy! We are here and we see you!

I’m so proud of him. He’s such a diamond in the rough. I’m proud to be a supporter and recognize what he’s done for himself and how it translates into his art.

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rachelbethhines · 4 years ago

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Tangled Salt Marathon - Happiness Is

This is possibly my favorite episode of season two. Yet, it is also the point the where the series starts to fall off a cliff. Only that’s not something that you would realize upon a first watch; just in hindsight and only with some basic knowledge of the behind the scenes drama that led to this and the fall out with the fandom that followed afterwards.

Summary: Rapunzel begins to feel homesick for Corona when she finds an old letter written by her father in one of the many lanterns sent from her previous birthdays. In attempts to uplift her spirits, Rapunzel explores the island and comes across a magical idol that brings instant happiness to whomever possesses it. Rapunzel begins to hallucinate her family and friends back in Corona and soon shares the idol with the rest of the group. However, everyone starts to become obsessive over the idol, desperately wanting it for themselves. Rapunzel tricks everyone into giving her the idol, but when the Lorbs try to help Rapunzel, they fall under the idol's control and soon begin to terrorize the village.

Let’s Start with the First Elephant in the Room; Frederic

So throughout the episode Rapunzel is struggling with being homesick. Which is fair enough, that’s an understable reaction to being on the road for months by now. However, to showcase this Rapunzel keeps seeing hallucinations of her father. There are some other characters too, but her dad is the first person she sees and the only one in Corona with speaking lines. He’s the one to tempt her with the idol.

Did we just forget that Frederic is her abuser?

Look, even if you accept his apology in Secret of the Sundrop and believe he has learned his lesson, that doesn’t just erase the pain he caused her. Her thoughts about her father should be more realistically complex then this. Now add in how she makes a such a clean break from her other abuser, Gothel, but still holds him on a pedestal shows a disturbing bias on the part of the writers.

Also where’s this love for Arianna? You know the only real mother on the show? The show that’s aimed at little girls? The one parent who hasn’t flat out abused the main character yet?

Seriously, Chris, what the fuck?

This is a Missed Opportunity

So part of the reason why I like this episode is that we get insights into each of the characters and their desires. As such this is one of the few episodes where the group actual feels like a group friends. However, Cass’s vision is wasted here.

So at first glance this seems to aline with what we know of the character thus far. She loves her dad and wishes to impress him. That’s only if you take season one into account, though. Later episodes will contradict this goal. If you wanted to set up praise and validation in general as Cassandra’s motives, then here is where that should have happened.

Show her getting a medal, have cheering crowds surround her, have her be a hero, or something. You can’t claim her relationship with her parents as the driving force of behind her later actions if you don’t actually involve one of those parents as part of the resolution to her arc.

Either she lacking attention from her dad or she’s jealous of Rapunzel. You can’t have it be both because those two things don’t intersect. Rapunzel is not and never was a threat to her relationship with her father.

So Umm...I Don’t Think This Plot Point Has the Impact That the Writers Think It Does

So this hilarious, and it is intended to be funny, but it’s not for the reasons that the show gives.

The idea is that this is some shocking revelation. That Rapunzel would never do this under normal circumstances and it’s a hint that the idol is corrupting her.

Only the rest of the series doesn’t aline with that at all. This is just the real Rapunzel behaving as the she normally would but without the usual veneer of excuses.

It’s funny because it’s the show calling out Rapunzel hypocrisy for what it is plainly, not because it’s out of character.

But funny only gets you so far. The show is perfectly happy to play up Rapunzel’s awfulness for laughs, but then conventily ignore it when it comes time for the characters themselves to call her out on it so that she can grow and learn.

The show runs under the sitcom idea that comedy excuses all sins; which then backfires horribly when it tries to be serious and mature.

You can’t joke that the king threw a random person in a stockade for little reason and then expect us to still like him when he persecutes a child. Same applies here.

The sitcom set up only works when there is minimal at stake and all parties involved are equally awful in their own ways.

Then Why Not Just Go Home?

Once again, there’s nothing at stake in season two. Rapunzel has no real reason to be on this trip. Nothing is stopping her from just going home if that’s what she wants. The idol only makes her happy because it shows her want she wants, but she could actually have what she wants as soon as the next ship arrives. So what’s the issue here?

This is why you need external conflict in order to make internal conflicts work. There’s has to be something preventing the main character from achieving her goal or otherwise she just comes across as a dumbass.

And Now Here Comes the Second Elephant; Varian

I have several things to talk about here, and none of them actually concern the scene itself but the creator’s treatment of the character and the show’s fan base.

For you see, Chris did a very, very stupid thing.

He wrote the character driving the plot out of the show. The character who also happens to be the most popular person in the series. Only to then use said character’s VA and this one cameo as promotion for this whole season.

Needless to say, fans were disappointed.

However, the Tangled fandom is exceedingly polite; more so than most. The lack of Varian was met mostly with confusion, and maybe a few off handed jokes, rather than anger. When opportunity arose people naturally had questions concerning the character.

And that’s when Chris put his foot in mouth.

This Tumblr post details how Chris got kicked off the Tangled The Series Discord by bullying a bunch of Varian fans while on there.

https://starxapple.tumblr.com/post/617852117763391488/zhantiri-uuugh-fine-since-people-are-getting

I shan’t get into it fully, but for those who discovered the show after season two had aired, this caused a massive backlash from the fandom.

A good chunk of the fandom just walked away, and rightly so. The few that stuck around despite these remarks found themselves harassed by certain sections of the fandom who saw Chris’s bullying as permission to pursue the same behavior. However, most importantly, the ratings plummeted.

Season one hovered around the the 1 million mark, give or take a five point difference. The first part of season two dropped to half of that, and after this episode and the hiatus it sunk even lower, down to the mid-thirties. That’s over 20,000 people who just jumped ship over this. That’s not a normal decline.

No matter what your personal feelings are of the character of Varian or how he was handled in the show, that’s still a massive PR fassico that cost the series big time.

To add to this mountain of bullshit, there was also a massive walk out of crew members after season one had finished production. Most of them women. They even desperately threw out ‘we’re hiring’ calls to cover this. Which given that’s it’s Disney and that nepotism is usually how one gains employment in the entertainment industry, something unusual must have happened behind the scenes. Especially if most of the people who left were women.

We’ll probably never know what really happened. People don't usually talk about behind the scenes stuff like that due to contracts and the aforementioned nepotism. However, all clues point to Varian.

Something changed at the last minute concerning his story. Chris himself had confirmed as much when discussing the note and the Brotherhood. We also gotten other hints that content was edited out at the last minute. Plus the writing becomes more shoddy as the series goes along, showing how slapped dashed everything is together.

Then there’s the rumors.

I must stress to you that this is only a rumor. As pointed out earlier, most animators aren’t in a position to talk freely about what goes on behind the scenes. Do NOT harass them over it or make things awkward by asking them to clarify this. However it’s been suggested that the female crew warned Chris that removing Varian from season two and re-writing his story, along with making Cass the villain, would be a bad idea before they left and Chris didn’t listen. Much to his folly.

Chris is no longer a Disney employee and has yet to move on to any other projects. He says he left, but I more suspect that Disney just didn't renew his contract and no one has picked him up since. I take no joy in the idea that someone may have lost their job, but if true, then Chris has little to blame but himself.

So What Did Change?

We don't know anything for sure. We know from discussions about the note that there was a proposed Brotherhood plot that involved Varian that was then cut. There was also talks about a Cass and Varian team up in season three.

This was then changed to the Saporian take over, which is foreshadowed in this scene. However even that got edited down and under the flimsiest of excuses.

One of the writers, Ricky, suggested that they thought cutting back to Corona would be too confusing for the audience; which is a load of bull. I mean how poorly do you think of your audience’s comprehension skills that they wouldn’t understand a change of scene or a flashback? Yet you fully expect them to pick up on your lazy foreshadowing involving the mirror? So much so that you sent them on a quest to find it between seasons two and three.

Then there’s this gem from Chris.

Ok ignoring the fact that you so totally could have featured both Gothel and Varian, seeing as they serve two different functions in the story and mean different things to Rapunzel.... What guilt?!!!

Rapunzel doesn’t ever act guilty over anything involving her treatment of Varian.

That’s when you realize Chris isn’t talking about her feeling guilty about Varian’s predicament. He’s saying that Rapunzel feels guilty of leaving her father behind with this ‘dangerous’ criminal. Which is a big fuck you to everyone.

That’s why Frederic is the center focus of Rapunzel’s hallucinations. Why she’s more concerned for his safety over Varian’s trauma. Chris really be out here trying to use the abused 14/15 year old orphan as a scapegoat for the grown ass dictator who ruined countless lives. Because he thinks a grown woman should feel guilty for leaving her abusive father behind and pursuing her life’s dream.

Dude, I try not to assume the worst of people just cause they write fictional characters that I dislike, but Chris really makes things hard not to when he treats his self insert this way.

Oh but we’re not done yet.

When Varian Fans Complain About the Lack of Varian; We’re Complaining About the Lack of a Coherent Plot.

Certain sections of the fandom, bolstered by Chris’s BS, try to act like simply being a Varian fan is grounds for dismissal of any criticism of the show and it’s writing. As if having personal preference for something makes you automatically ‘entitled’ or some such bull. Yet doing so ignores the fundamental complaint that they are making.

We’re not whining about our favorite character not getting enough screen time. No one would have complained about his lack of presence in season two if they had properly resolved his story in season three and had Chris not been a dick to the fans. But it becomes evidently clear as the series goes along that removing Varian left a major hole in the plot. One that makes the entire story and the rest of characters suffer as well.

Think season two is boring? That’s cause they cut out their main villain at the last minute and failed to replace him with anything.

Upset that Hookfoot was brought along for zero reason? He’s the replacement character for Varian who no doubt was going to appear in season two originally.

Wish there was more on the Brotherhood and the Dark Kingdom? Their story impact was greatly reduced when Varian was written out.

Are you a Eugene fan and mad about how the Dark Prince plot went nowhere? That’s cause the original Brotherhood/Dark Kingdom plot was dropped when Varian was.

Dislike how Cassandra’s character was ruined with her villain arc? She was originally meant to be possessed but was changed last minute to be a Varian rip-off in the hopes that she would gain some of his popularity.

Wish Zhan Tiri, Demantius, and the Disciples actually went somewhere and that ZT had coherent plan? That plot were changed last minute to make Zhan Tiri a scapegoat for Cassandra now that her story was changed to replace Varian.

And of course let’s not ignore the character who suffers the most from lack of Varian.... Rapunzel.

Chris’s defense for leaving Varian out of S2 is that it’s “Rapunzel’s Story” and that Varian was only ever a plot device meant to push her along on her quest. Which means that Rapunzel no longer has anyone pushing her along on her quest!!!

All characters are plot devices. If they aren’t there to serve a story function then they need to be cut. Even Rapunzel herself serves a plot function. She’s meant to be the protagonist of a coming of age story. Which means she needs both an external conflict to face and an emotional arc where she grows as a person. Varian is the plot device that serves both of those functions but he’s now been removed and is no longer allowed to serve his original purpose.

Chris reached into the machine while it was running and pulled out one of the main gears and acted like he always meant to do that. He legit sat there and pretended that everything was running smoothly even as smoke poured out and warring alarms blared. He then tried to shove bubble gum in its place hoping no one would notice as everything fell apart around him.

Cause he’s the thing; no idea is without merit. It’s all about presentation. Removing Varian from season three still could have worked, but it required A.) replacing him with another foe and B.) making sure his arc still got a proper conclusion.

I’ll talk more about Varian’s half-arsed redemption when we get to it; but for now let's focus on the more immediate problem. No one thought to give season two an actual overarching conflict in light of Varian’s absence.

That’s a fundamental oversight that pretty much signals that season two was re-written at the last minute. You have an overarching plot in an action adventure show but no main adversary? I refuse to believe that everyone involved was too stupid to do that on purpose; but if they were rushed and lacked a crew because they walked out due to last minute story changes....yeah that’d I buy.

Because there’s more than enough options to go around; Lady Caine, The Baron and Styalan, Hector and/or Adria, Zhan Tiri’s Disciples ect. were all options. So was keeping the rocks a threat, or have Cass start her villian arc earlier; with proper motivation this time. They could have even come up with someone entirely new.

You had over four years to plan this shit out; why is it not more well put together?!

How Come Rapunzel Can Easily Admit Fault to Pascal But Not Anyone Else?

Pascal should have sat perched on Varian’s and Eugene’s shoulders giving Rapunzel ‘I’m done with this’ looks all throughout season three. It’s apparently the only thing that she responds to.

Why is the untalkative camelanion the only one allowed to call out the main character’s BS without going villain?

Conclusion

That’s all there really is to talk about in this story. The actual episode itself is good. It’s the behind the scenes crap that bubbles underneath its surface that needed to be discussed. That way when going forward with the marathon you’ll better see what I’m talking about when I explain how future episode suffered from the lack of planning and foresight.

#Varian #tangled #anti-tangled #anti-rapunzel #cassandra #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tts #rta #king frederic

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niksixx · 4 years ago

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America’s Most Wanted

Requested: Kind of :D

Pairing: Duff McKagan x Fem!Reader

Description: While you and Duff are lovers, you’re also killers. A modern day Bonnie and Clyde love story.

Warning: Mentions of murder, blood, stabbing, guns, etc. I tried not to make this fic graphic, but please read at your own risk if you believe this piece will trigger you.

A/N: I am blessing you all with a Duff fic because I know how much you lovely humans wanted me to write something for him!! It’s a different type of fic, I consider this ‘horror’ but again, I tried not to make it super graphic that way you can still enjoy it!

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

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The streets of Los Angeles are uncharacteristically quiet at four thirty in the morning. Normally buzzing with crowds of inebriated young adults who spill out to the sidewalk after a night at the Roxy, they have become calm and eerily so. Illumination from the lamp posts provides the only source of light throughout the city in the late hours of the night. Stores and clubs remain closed for the second week in a row. Workers and customers alike are suffering, but the safety of the LA citizens is at stake.

The police and the FBI are frazzled. Patrolling the streets is too dangerous. One by one the death toll increases, with each murder more gruesome than the next, always unprovoked. Media outlets across the country keep the American citizens informed. The mugshots of the murderers are on every news channel, and posters are hung on every telephone pole. The two killers are wanted dead or alive, and they are Bonnie and Clyde resurrected.

Sitting at the base of a tree is one of the killers, the more experienced of the two. He goes by Duff. Long leather clad legs are splayed out in front of him as he cleans the fresh blood from his knife with a towel that has seen better days. Beside him hidden in the grass is the lifeless body of a twenty-nine year old man who had made the mistake of stepping outside his home. The scent of blood is strong, but Duff’s used to it. After brutally ending the lives of thirty innocent civilians up and down the west coast, the pungent odor is rarely a bother. In fact, Duff finds it comforting.

At first glance, Duff appears just like any other man in Los Angeles. That alone makes him deadly. Tall, blonde, and adorned in leather assets from head to toe, he’s intimidating. But it’s not the kind of intimidating that urges people away. He possesses an allure that pulls them toward him, draws them in. And then, when they least expect it, he strikes. One and done. Swift and clean. No remorse.

With his back against the base of the tree, Duff scans the empty streets, looking for any sign of life that is foolish enough to leave the safety of the indoors. He knows the police are doing everything they can to locate him without putting themselves at risk. He is aware that cities all across the country are terrified that they’ll fall victim to his murder spree. And yet there are still people who choose to enter the outdoor world, exposing themselves to potential harm. There is always the option of breaking the glass windows and terrorizing the people who choose to stay inside, but that isn’t the name of the game. Duff waits for his victims. He never goes looking for them.

Heels clicking against the cement pavement grabs his attention. Turning his head toward the sound, a petite woman in a red peacoat has a bit of hustle in her step as she pulls the jacket tighter to her body. The naive little thing is alone, checking over her shoulder once, twice, before exhaling a breath into the air.

From his pocket, Duff digs out a cigarette. Holding it between two gloved fingers, he lights it and casually blows a ring of smoke into the night. “You know darling, you shouldn’t be out here all by yourself.”

The clicking comes to a halt. Caught in the midst of her venture home, the lady stops and turns, worry lines etched in her forehead. Duff sighs. Poor thing doesn’t know what’s coming for her. “I know. I’m coming from a friend’s house. My apartment is just down the street.”

Duff heaves himself to his feet, brushing off the dirt and grass from his body. Shockingly, the lady doesn’t budge, but her eyes watch his every move. Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he lets the cigarette dangle from his lips. A few steps forward and he’s standing in front of the young woman who squares her body defensively. She doesn’t recognize him, another shock, as his face has been plastered all over the 11 o’clock news, but her guard is high.

“At four in the morning?” Duff asks incredulously, playing the part of an intrigued stranger. He uses his charm for an advantage. The woman smiles a little, relaxing her shoulders. Duff notices. “What were you doing?”

He doesn’t have to do this. He doesn’t have to pretend to care, to warm up his victims before the hunt. But killing is a game, and games are meant to be fun. “I was planning on staying over, but I have trouble falling asleep in homes that aren’t my own,” Her eyes travel the length of Duff’s body before settling back on his face. She has trouble reading him. “What’s your excuse for being out so late?”

A few feet away, a shadow emerges from behind the cars parked along the street. Straining his neck to get a closer look, Duff recognizes the shadow and snickers to himself. Curiously, the lady turns her gaze just as the shadow disappears behind a different car. “I have trouble sleeping. Past trauma,” Duff lies casually, eyes downcast at the cigarette in his mouth. “Fresh air and a smoke usually calms me down.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…”

“Duff,” He answers back with a slow smile. “And you are?”

“Linda.” A wary smile surfaces on her lips. The rise and fall of her chest is normal, not as panicked as it was before.

The shadow in the background slithers around the cars, inching its way closer. It’s on the hunt for its next prey, but Duff shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. He looks to Linda again, who stares back quizzically. “Well, Linda, it was very nice to meet you. It’s late, though, and you should head on home.”

With a curt nod, Linda tugs her purse higher onto her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you too, Duff.” Linda attempts to step around him, but Duff sidesteps and blocks her path. Linda straightens, the muscles in her face tightening.

“One more thing,” In the shallow pocket of his leather jacket, Duff runs a thumb over the tip of his blade, leaning toward her with a smirk. Linda recoils, and he deadpans. “Don’t scream.”

For a split second, Linda’s fight or flight response is activated, only to be cut off by the sharp pain of a blade wedged in the side of her ribcage. A gloved hand covers her mouth, suppressing the soft whimpers of agony. Cocking his head, Duff stares into her eyes as tears spill over the apples of her cheeks. With a quick, slick motion, Duff pulls the knife from her side before penetrating the skin just above her collarbone. Lightning quick, the shadow emerges from the darkness and hurls itself at Duff, knocking him against the brick wall of a building just a foot behind him. If only the shadow had been quicker, not as hesitant, then it may have claimed Linda as its victim.

Now under the light of a lamppost, the shadow appears in its true form. The second killer. Dressed head to toe in black garments, the boxcutter held tight in its grasp, it takes one step forward, lips curled back in contempt.

“Fuck you, Duff. I had that.”

The anger in your voice turns him on, the opposite effect that it should have on his body. You were right. Linda was your kill, but she’d been alive for far too long. Things didn’t always have to be planned. Excessive planning, while it worked in most cases, could end up being a weakness. Sometimes, you just needed to go for the quick kill.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart,” Feigning innocence, Duff gestures to Linda’s lifeless body as he blows a cloud of smoke into the air. While he’s positive Linda is as good as gone, there was always the chance she was grasping at life by the skin of her teeth. And if she was indeed just another lifeless body bleeding out on the concrete, Duff would enjoy the sight of you exploding in anger right in front of him. You were always more beautiful that way. “But her apartment was down the street. You were just a bit too slow, darling. She would have made it home alive.” Your eyes fall downcast. Duff sighs. “Tell you what. Check her pulse. If she’s still breathing, I’ll let you finish her off.”

Crouching down to the pavement, you slip your hand into the collar of Linda’s peacoat, two fingers positioned on the side of her neck. Blood trickles onto your hand, the pungent liquid dripping down the side of her neck to her ear. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on finding a slow beating, but the only pulse you feel is the one flowing through your fingertips.

Eyes narrowed to slits, you watch as Duff chuckles from his place at the wall, taking drag after drag of the cigarette. He knew she was dead. He was toying with you. Teeth clenched together, you find yourself pressing his back further into the bricks, snatching the white cancer stick from his lips, and crushing it under the heel of your boot. You hold the blade against his neck, applying just a bit of pressure to make him slightly squirm under your touch. Neither you nor Duff are strangers to rough play.

He blinks in pure astonishment before curling his lips into a sly grin. Your fingers twitch, itching to wipe the smile off his face, but he’s caught your wrist far too many times in the past when you’ve tried. “Someone’s a little angry, aren’t we?”

Linda’s blood smears over Duff’s lips as your fingers graze over his face. With your lips by his ear, you reply breathily, “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.”

Pulling away, you let your hands drop by your side, curling and uncurling your fists as a way to release the tension in your body. It was your kill. How were you supposed to get better if Duff claimed the victims for himself?

“Maybe you need more training.”

Your blood boils, eyes shifting back to Duff’s smug face. If you needed more training, it was his fault. “Maybe I need a better teacher.” It was easy to get under each other’s skin, although most of the time it was playful banter that morphed into sexual tension. From the bulge in his jeans and the hazy look in his eyes, you knew Duff was dangerously close to claiming you on the sidewalk.

“Temper, temper,” Duff taunts, pushing off the wall with the sole of his boot. The way he eyes you is how he gazes at his victims, like prey, but there’s a side of Duff only you’ve seen. Despite his primal instincts and the nagging urge to have his way with you whenever and wherever, you meant more to him than that. “You have a sharp tongue, sweetheart,” You tilt your head confidently upward, not breaking eye contact as he towers over you. Trailing a gloved hand over your exposed collarbone and up the side of your throat, his fingers slide around to grip the nape of your neck. With untamed hair, crazed eyes, and lips smeared with the blood of the fallen, he’s a madman, a killer. And while the feelings between you aren’t rational, you can’t deny your love for the wild criminal. “Show me what else it can do.”

His lips draw you in like a magnet. Many kisses have been shared between you and Duff, but your heart still beats wildly like it did the very first time. With his hands on either side of your face he keeps you still against him, lips moving in a frenzy before biting down on your lip. He’s rarely gentle, and it drives you mad.

The taste of blood floods your tongue as his tangles with yours, hot, heavy breaths fanning over your face. Your body tingles with fervent need, stomach twisting in passionate knots. As much as you want to enjoy the kiss, the taste of him, you pull back reluctantly, the thoughts in your head overwhelming the rest of your senses.

Duff’s hands cradle your face with a gentle touch. He eyes you with a hard look, a look that warns not to lie. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

The words spin around in your brain. Did you really need more training? In only six short months, Duff taught you everything he knew. You followed his lessons, mimicked his every movement, practiced until your muscles ached from the pain. “Am I disappointing you?”

Duff’s eyebrows furrow. His hands fall to your waist, tugging your hips firmly against him. “Disappointing me? Hardly. Sweetheart, you amaze me.”

“But you said I need more training.”

He chuckles softly. “And you do. That’s not a bad thing. But you’ve already come so far. Just a few months ago you were a dainty little thing who loved watching romance movies and baking cookies on Friday nights. Now you can shoot a gun with your eyes closed.”

“And you were just getting out of prison,” Snaking your arms around the back of Duff’s neck, you pull him closer to you, noses brushing tenderly. If it weren’t for Duff’s inmate taking the blame for the murder, he still would have been staring at the prison walls. How they were able to fool the system into letting Duff go was unfathomable, but he was here with you now. They had let a man guilty of first degree murder walk free, and that man turned into one obsessed with death. Along the way he found you, recruited you as his companion, and now couldn’t picture a world where you weren’t by his side. “I was smitten with you from the moment we met. And I knew you were trouble. I just didn’t care.”

“And look at us now,” Duff grins, stealing a quick kiss. Tendrils of wavy blond hair tickle your cheeks when he dips down to your lips. You never understood why he felt the need to steal them. Anything he wanted, you gave willingly. The rest of the world saw his demented and damned soul. You were fortunate to know every complex piece of him, but not all of them were rooted in evil. His love for you was genuine, unwavering, quite possibly his only redeeming quality. “America’s Most Wanted.”

Your head snaps over to the sound of an apartment door closing. Jogging down the steps and onto the pavement, a man untangles a green leash before hooking it onto his dog. The word screams in your head. Target.

Duff is already smirking when you look back at him. He gives you an encouraging nod; You dig into the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out the boxcutter with a sly smile. “Go get ‘em, sweetheart.”

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ghostmartyr · 4 years ago

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SnK 131 Thoughts

Eren what the fuck.

Like.

What in the actual fuck, my dude.

There are parts of this that make sense.

Then there are the parts that absolutely do not, and it’s all wrapped up in this chapter where, as previous chapter posts predicted, people are screaming and dying.

Since that’s pretty much the majority of the content, I guess we have the luxury of a short post that almost entirely focuses on Eren.

With added Annie and Armin. They can go at the start, I guess. They exist, they are cute if you’re into that, they’re also dumb and mopey if you’re into that, Paths make for a great radio, and just generally

WHAT THE FUCK, EREN.

Did I already talk about Rebellion? Is that a thing I did in these past few months? -checks- Damn it. Not that the well can’t be visited again, since it’s very obviously appropriate, but twice in two months starts to look like the laziness that is indeed threatening to take me.

-spins the wheel-

Okay then, let’s talk about Anakin Skywalker.

Cool dude. Rad kid. Born into slavery. Freed from slavery by a dude with magical plot magic who immediately dies. Inherits dude’s desire for him to follow the leanings of the religious sect responsible for plot magic. Has hormones and has a meltdown over having hormones, and also feelings, and proceeds to protect everything he loves so hard that it burns to the ground while someone he eventually throws into a pit laughs maniacally in the background.

It’s mainly that last part that is arguably relevant to today.

Anakin is terrified of losing his wife in childbirth. Instead of contacting a doctor, he decides that it’s best to rely on himself. Plus shady mentor. His fear turns into a longing for a power to destroy that fear, and the combination drives him to the Dark Side. When he starts demolishing the very things he wanted to protect, he digs in deeper. For twenty years, he kills, and kills, and kills, because he can’t admit he was wrong.

(Clone Wars is a good show, if anyone is interested. It fleshes the emotional weight of the script out, and makes the horror and tragedy stab you in the heart.)

I can’t say that I entirely hate this for Eren. I don’t particularly like how it’s been presented, but that might just be the part of me that looks at the “GENOCIDE IS THE ONLY OPTION” button lit up on his forehead and finds it so fundamentally disagreeable that I haven’t been looking at it even when the plot tells me that’s what it is.

Here’s the thing: Genocide is presented as a feasible course of action all throughout this series. From Zeke, from Marley, from Paradis; whoever’s pitch you want to listen to, a conclusion everyone always comes to is that it would be easier if all of these people causing problems would just die.

They can make that happen. They have the technology.

Marley is a cesspit. The moral cost means nothing to them.

Zeke is abused, traumatized, and molded into thinking death is a mercy.

Floch survives, and teaches himself that the evil he lives through needs to be repaid in full.

Kill, kill, kill. If something stands in your way, murder it.

This is a concept of horror to the characters who are establishing the moral center of the tale. They’ve killed people. They’ve fought to the death against people who would gladly see them die. The titans are their victimized kin, and all they can do for the greater good is put them down.

They’re tiny humans trapped in a cage, and they’re just trying to get out. Whenever they try, their jailers try to eat them. That is forever what Paradis is attempting, and whenever they do try to lessen the amount of violence in their tactics, they get fucked over by the plot. As much as the story can, it’s thrown the main Paradis cast into the light of being innocent victims who are just trying to defend themselves.

The whole series is a study in the damage genocide has caused.

Nothing excuses it.

There is no motive that justifies this scale of premeditated violence.

There is the fear that one day the people who belong to you will be victims, and the only way to stop them from being victims is to make victims of everyone else. Kill or be killed.

In self-defense.

Defending from an attack that might never come.

Genocide is not an option that has ever deserved a seat at the table.

Why don’t we just kill everyone off?

Why not erase everyone’s memories of it?

Why not continue to use this power to herd everyone into our vision of what the world should be like?

Why not say that we deserve life so much more than any other living creature on the planet?

The entire story tells us why.

From the very first chapter, we’re exposed to the violence and terror of an uncaring world devouring anyone unfortunate enough to be on the outskirts of what supposedly greater people have decided is most important. Eren’s entire home is destroyed because some children kick down a wall. The people in the core of those same walls are disturbed, but send out their lesser to be fed to the monsters so that they can continue living.

Karl Fritz locks everyone away on an island and tells them the world has ended.

Anyone who is too curious, or too interested in beginning a new world, is killed. They’re robbed of their memories or their life. The remaining Ackermans are alive because they were too far away from the true history of the world to actually know anything.

Marley, the whipping boy of the Eldian Empire, finds its escape through Karl’s mercy, and immediately mimics the way of life that has caused them so much pain. Titans continue to run rampant in the world, simply with different reins. They redefine what’s acceptable based on who’s pulling the trigger.

Every single major plot point comes back to the ruin that perpetrating genocide has conceived.

Nothing is fixed by saving Marley from Eldia. Marley chooses to renew the evil.

Nothing is fixed by Karl walking away from the world. He just picks on smaller targets.

Nothing is fixed by pretending this is a solution.

The series’ history is a cycle of people grabbing power and tormenting their enemies with it. It shows no sign of stopping. It takes Paradis a hundred years, but they go from a blank slate of a starting point to producing someone ready to destroy the world.

Nothing suggests that another hundred years won’t do the same.

We have seen this all before. The only difference is that Eren is trying to commit to a large enough scale that no one alive will have the kind of grudges that will produce this fuckery.

It is vile.

This is not a defensible course of action. Some things are simply wrong, and even without morality coming into play, we’ve spent years reading an object lesson in the consequences of this behavior.

This horror is where Eren comes from.

Eren is not special.

He is a normal human born into this world.

His actions are ones that any other person could duplicate.

Not easily, and not without a great deal of coincidence, but nothing about Eren makes this a choice that only he can make. His power is borrowed, and no matter how he dies, that death means there will be a next person in line.

He isn’t ending a fucking thing. He’s become a cog in the machine that broke him.

So that’s the starting point. Even if killing younglings did have a logical undercurrent, no. No, no, a million times no. Eren chooses this. Eren causes this. Eren picks genocide without anyone putting a gun to his head. Eren picks genocide when he has access to a power that could easily discourage anyone from attacking his home for years.

He chooses to murder people.

Because he’s afraid, and because he can.

Then we get to what I find infinitely more interesting:

Eren doesn’t want this.

In the present day, we have an Eren who no longer has a body, and what amounts to a hallucination of his younger self, dreaming of a world hidden away in a book. His physical self has its eyes closed, and his younger self looks more alive than Eren has in ages. He isn’t looking at the damage he causes, just the open sky.

In the past, we have Eren bawling apologies to a boy he meets once. We have an Eren who realizes that this world is one that has let him down, and that, completely outside protecting his home, is what makes him want it gone.

This doesn’t just happen.

Eren wants it to happen.

Eren looks at this world that wants him and everyone like him dead, and he wants it to be like the book. No mention of other people -- other people aren’t in the outside world anymore. Just beautiful scenery, and the freedom to enjoy it.

He can’t have that, and it hurts. He’s been through Annie, Reiner, and Bertolt. He’s lost friends and seen even more people die protecting him. He’s lost limbs and sleep and sanity to see a world beyond the walls.

It’s a world that wants nothing to do with him.

And Eren, who has rejected that line of thinking since he was a child, rejects the entire world.

He can’t dress it up.

Deep down, he doesn’t like the world he’s going to destroy.

He’s known for four years that he’s going to end countless lives.

He walks off Paradis’ ship knowing that.

But when he sees this world, he does want it gone.

Knowing what he’s going to do is one thing; seeing the beginning of a reason for it is what drives him to his knees. It isn’t some strange inevitability of the future. He’s the one who does this, and behind every bit of love for his friends and Paradis, there’s the knowledge that this world, where so many people live lives just like his, is one he’d liked better in a dream where none of them existed.

And that is where the plot thread loses me.

Not because any of this is something that I find particularly outlandish. There’s a plain, hysterical logic to it, and a small fraction of identifying with that logic has Eren in tears.

Eren does this.

There is no evidence of him wanting it.

He sees the shadow of want in himself, and he freaks out.

Eren of the present is dissociating so hard I don’t view his childhood hallucinations as a stable mind choosing something.

Eren of the past is continually horrified that this is going to happen.

If I had a tablet, this is where there would be a bad drawing of present Eren and past Eren, linked by an unstable line of red question marks.

I don’t have a tablet.

I do have Paint.

In the immortal words of an angry fictional nine-year-old, “If you don’t fight, we can’t win.”

In the immortal words of a very sad fictional nineteen-year-old, “I don’t know when in the future it will happen... But I... am going to kill every one of these people...”

Eren going full villain is a choice, I guess. It’s not a very interesting one. As previously stated, we know what happens in this world when people do a genocide. We also know what happens when the walls go marching. We are now watching a genocide as the walls go marching. There are no revelations here. There’s death and gloom.

I mean this as sincerely as I can: This, on its face, is boring.

Eren is just the latest person killing people for Reasons.

There is very little reason to be invested in that as a plot. As a character drama, there are tears to be shed and hearts to be torn asunder, but as a basic plot??? This has nothing in it.

I don’t personally believe we’ve come this far for nothing, so I apply my magnifying glass where I choose, and where I choose is the part where I believe this all slips:

Eren takes his visions as an inevitability.

He has the conversation with himself, counting out the lives. Paradis versus the world. In a simple game of numbers, the world should win, and he knows that.

Presenting our problem.

Eren can’t accept a future where Paradis, and Eldians, are sacrificed for the world. Paradis is his home, and he’s spent his life fighting for Eldians to be free, even if he doesn’t know them by that name for most of it. In the case of Paradis v World, Paradis wins out. It’s wrong and it’s terrible, and Zeke’s plan means less dead bodies, but he can’t let go of Paradis.

A binary is presented. Paradis can live, or the rest of the world can. Pick one.

Except that’s stupid.

Following this, Eren leans so far into that choice that he does what he can to manufacture an impossibility of any other results. He makes Paradis a priority. He makes Paradis an international concern, not simply a Marley one. He has the power to knock back any assault on the island they can make, but he still goes on offense.

Paradis dies

World dies

That is not the choice. It is the choice Eren locks himself into, but frankly, he doesn’t even try before he jumps at the genocide route.

As a story thing, whatever. Valid, I guess. Let the protagonist’s own misconceptions break him.

As an Eren thing, it falls short of working.

He’s clearly being torn apart by what he’s going to do.

He’s a protagonist who enters the story yelling about people never winning if they don’t enter the ring.

Eren sees a vision of him destroying the world, thinks on it, and effectively goes, “seems legit,” and cries himself to sleep feeling sad about it.

Eren.

You can have your characters fail. You can have them drop their principles one by one until there’s nothing left. You can have their character development be entirely negative. You do not have to have your hero be a Hero.

Eren is appalled by his own feelings, and walking around the world like a zombie. He sees himself ending the world, and plays it back over and over again, never questioning that this is exactly what he’s going to do.

But when he finally starts, there’s not even a trace of this conflict. His eyes light up at the amazing sight he believes is waiting for him. He spits his defiance at Zeke for even suggesting the sterilization plan. He’s still a zombie in every human interaction that happens with his flesh body, but he goes about his plan with an unconcerned ruthlessness that is disconnected from the humanity Eren has spent the whole story personifying.

Arguably, Sasha dying is the tipping point, and that’s where he fully commits, and blah blah blah stuff.

Only defiance, and not bending to anyone else’s will, is the key trait of the Attack Titan. It’s the key trait of Eren. To keep fighting well beyond sense.

This plan’s inception comes from Eren yielding to the inevitable.

He’s going to kill these people.

There is no choice to it, it’s simply what’s going to happen.

Eren has always had a choice. He might not like the options, or know what’s right, but he has always, always known that the decisions he makes are his.

The story is making the case that Eren buys into inevitability so completely that he denies himself freedom.

That isn’t uninteresting, but we don’t see that. We don’t see what convinces Eren that it’s no use fighting. He chooses to save a boy, and his memories of the boy don’t change. Big deal. That’s one kid in four years of choices. As a proof of concept, it’s weak, and it’s weaker still because Eren makes the choice to save him.

None of this was inevitable, but we approach Eren’s actions from the perspective of there being no way out. Maybe if we had even more flashbacks to him trying to change things, and a play-by-play of him slowly realizing that nothing he does changes what he sees --

But even then, if Eren doesn’t want to kill people, he’s allowed not to. He’s allowed to continue working with his friends. He could have told any of them, at any point, that this was an upcoming problem. He’s always trusted Armin’s mind.

Eren hides himself away with his problems and tells himself he can’t fight this.

Bullshit.

I’ve made this argument before, about Historia and Ymir:

If you’re going to have a character renege on a core of their personal identity so completely, you need to put in the legwork of showing how it happens. Otherwise there’s no reason to trust anything the story tells you, and the grand illusion falls to pieces.

The character work in this series has always been solid, even when everything down to the art hasn’t.

This doesn’t quite work.

There’s a compelling case. There’s a viewable logic that pretends to be believable.

The internal consistency is still off. Something’s wrong here, and if it turns out to be the character ball being dropped in the final inning... really, that’s just such a waste. Personal preference colors all of this, obviously, but if this is the whole truth of the matter, it’s boring.

“I still want to believe... that there’s still a world we don’t know about yet out there... past the walls.”

C’mon, Armin. Earn your fandom hatred. Be right one more time.

We’re not done yet.

#Shingeki no Kyojin #SnK 131 #Eren Yeager #shingeki no spoilers #SnK spoilers #spoilers #tl;dr #chapter post

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Ducktales: Terror of the Terra-Firmians! (Lena Retrospective) (Commission by WeirdKev27): Launchpad Looses his Last Brain Cell and I Loose My Patience

Welcome back Weblena Warriors to the second part of my look at everyone’s favorite Emo Teen Shadow Lesbian Duck... and probably the only one but hey, semantics, Shadow Into Light, which was made possible by viewers like you, the ultra humanite and a commission from WeirdKev27. Picking up where we left off, we have our first episode that has a different intended order than airing order.

As most of you probably remember, but some of you who joined later might not be aware of the broadcast order for the first half of season one is, in the academic sense, pretty fucked. It’s not Darkwing Duck’s entirely fucked by a web of badger spiders and a queen snake on top to make it some sort of train situation, but by just sorta airing whatever episodes they wanted to, Disney messed with the character balance so Huey got less focus, not that he got a ton of focus this season but still, as well as leaning into the episodes focusing more on the kids with less involvement from the adults which gave the wrong impression about the series. While it IS very focused on the triplets and webby, the show isn’t entirely about them, but as Frank has mentioned a few times, Disney Channel apparently has this WEIRD thing where they assume kids won’t like stories starring the adult characters.

Yeah I’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while. Mostly how it’s so dumb I could swear Pauly Shore was an exec at Disney Channel. And he might be I don’t know what he’s doing these days and i’d like to keep it that way. For starters, the Scooge comics, while barely published in the US these days, are still popular globally and have appealed to kids and adults for generations and are mostly focused on him, with the kids in a supporting role and Ducktales, you know the thing your directly remaking here, was also mostly about him with the triplets supporting, if a bit less than the comics. Most of the Disney Afternoon was about adult characters, with any kids in side roles in the main cast. And it comes off entirely hypocritical of them to say this when the MCU is easily marvel’s biggest cash cow at the moment, and marvel properties have appealed to both kids and adults, like the duck comics, for decades. And if it’s because the marvel cartoons weren’t doing well , I’ll let you in on a little secret: Those didn’t do well because they looked bland and from what I’ve seen of them felt kind of bland, though I haven’t seen enough to fully judge. Kids LIKE adult characters as much as kid characters, and also like teen characters despite not being teens. Focusing on either is valid and while I LIKED Disney’s youth starring shows I also want another X-Men cartoon before I turn 50, and I bet kids would like that too, with the last one only failing because you bailed on it because you were throwing a hissy fit over fox having the movie rights, and do not get me started on that. Point is this argument is horse shit and should stay in the stables.

So yeah I do think this episode came too soon and it’s placement effected it at the time and as such it dosen’t have the best rep with the fandom aside from the Lena bits and that includes me. The fact it was very early in the series and the characterizations hadn’t yet sunk in really hurt this episode in places but is it really that bad? Join me under the cut to find out

We open at the movies! Which scrooge apparently hasn’t been too since the 1930′s or seen any on video despite Della existing and being really stubborn.

A rant for another episode. But the kids just got out of a Mole Monster movie, along with Lena, Beakly and Launchpad. Their reactions are as follows: Lena, Webby and Dewey really enjoyed it, Huey found it unrealistic... says the boy whose uncle fought a dragon made of gold a month or two back but we’ll get to that, and Louie was bored and felt it didn’t have enough of the ultra violence, kids these days it’s not about the gore it’s about the tension. And Beakly.. is just pissed Lena tricked them into seeing this and said it was educational. And the more I think about it the more this sounds like BEAKLYS fault than Lena’s. BEAKLY is the one who likely bought the tickets, who saw it was likely an r or pg-13 and who as we’ve seen HAS A PHONE, and ulnike scrooge probably isn’t so stingy she wouldn’t spring for a smart phone, so she could’ve just googled it, or whatever bird related pun is in this version.. gandered it.. yeah let’s go with that, gandered it, and SEEEN it wasn’t appropriate or walked htem out of the theater and ate the cost if she was that bothered by it. Sitting through a Horror Movie you didn’t research, didn’t pull the kids out of and dind’t bother to even check the poster for or use basic common sense is YOUR fault. And this could’ve worked fine, had Lena talk the kids into begging for it or had launchpad take them and have Beakly find out after, having driven to pick them up as she didn’t trust launchpad to take them home. Instead it makes the former super spy look REALLY stupid and feels really out of character for a SPY to not to do research. And it wasn’t like they decided on this later, Bentina being a spy was part of the character’s backstory from day one and its made clear as early as episode 2 in both airing orders. This is just lazy writing to justify the episode and I expect better from this crew.

But an argument errupts between Huey and Webby over the Terra-Firmians, a hidden race of rock people living in Duckburg’s discontinued sewer system, allegedlys. So Lena suggest simply going down which gets a disapproving look from Beakly, despite you know this being their bread and butter, and the fact that if she had a problem with Scrooge not being involved.. she could just call him. Exploring fabled rock people is something he’d be into. I mean there’s a low profit margin but it also costs him almost nothing to walk to the theater or have launchpad swing around and pick him up. Just gas which given how much he pays for jet fuel isn’t a big ask. But Beakly soon gets distracted by Launchpad whose convinced the film is real and is attacking the poster a grim sign of things to come as while Beakly annoyed me in this one on rewatch, especially after realizing the above... Launchpad annoyed me both times and for VERY good reason we’ll get into. This provides a distraction and allows the trio to escape. Cue titles.

After the title sequence, our heroes head deeper underground, there’s too much panic in this town... I mean props to Donald for trying something new but he really needs to rethink his cologne choices. Sex Panther is just.. not a good smell on.. anyone.

So our heroes journey through the depths of the subway system, and we find out part of why Huey’s so skeptical, as he finds anything that isn’t in the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook to not exist, though the cracks in this already show as he’s added anything that does. We’ll get back to this later but as you can tell the basic dynamic for 24 minutes is Webby being a wholehearted True Believer and Huey being a Skeptical Sally. And Lena is just sorta “Eh gives me an excuse for shenanigans” about it. We also get a peak into webby’s mind as we see her notes .. which really just come off as Terra-Firmian fanfiction involving a war of succession between two sides, the terra’s and the firmies, something based on previous media, and also some doodles of a fictional candy called webby-dings and herself as a superhero, both things I want to see.

But yeah the first third of the episode is pretty simple, just them journeying, the occasional shift in the firmament, and it’s not bad, and there are a few great bits: Huey nerds out about rocks, and finds them way more interesting than a possible rock monster.

Which leads to the best gag of the episode as when Huey tries to pick up a big sample Webby, annoyed at his hyperfixation on the JWG, asks him to ask his book for help.. which he does by reading it and actually manages to pick the large rock up. This is halted though when Lena screams.. though she really just did it to draw them to an abandoned subway car full of glomgold posters for glomgold products because of course a failed subway project has his name plastered over it. You can’t spell glomgold without failure.. the failure is silent. Glomgold is not.

The fun is interuptted though by a livid Beakly who had realized they were missing in an earlier scene, after telling the Manager that McDuck Industries would pay for the poster.. and then found out Launchpad also destroyed the toilets “They come up thorugh the sewers!”. Launchpad that’s CHUDS, Ninja Turtles and Rats who raised Ninja Turtles like their own sons, mole people dig or use old mineshafts. It’s basic mole science. Also Beakly really shouldn’t sweat it, I just assumed the city has had a runnig bill witht he company for “McDuck Family and Employee Related Accidents, Mayhem and Shenanigans”. I mean he’s had Gyro on his payroll for at least a decade and a half by the series start, Gyro has leveled whole sections of city in an afternoon more than most giant monsters. Of which several have destroyed Duckburg. It got better.

Point is she’s livid about them sneaking off with Lena pointing out their some sort of adventure family and Beakly.. saying she won’t see them again, or at least implying it hard. I’ll put a pin in this, as the train buckles and a bit of seismic, or rock men, activity means their stuck. So they divide into teams: Beakly will go try and unhook the train car from the busted cars so they can ride out, Launchpad will go try and fix it, and we get this lovely exxchange as a result

Launchpad: Cool never crashed a train before Beakly: Can’t you try driving it without crashing it? Launchpad: Wha?

His face in that scene is priceless. He takes Dewey along. More on that in a second. Webby, Huey and Louie are told to stay put with Beakly only bringing Lena along because she dosen’t trust her. So since we have three split plots for a second... let’s split up gang, starting with the most aggrivating, middling with what you all came here for and why this is part of the retrsopective, and ending with the plot that directly heads into the final part of the episode.

Launchpad and Dewey: GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Okay starting with the most infamous plot and easily the worst part of this episode, probably the worst plot in any Ducktales 2017 episode. That’s not hyperbole it’s really that bad and really pissed people off, as fans of the original launchpad felt they made him overly stupid. This is where the airing order’s a problem as putting an episode with a subplot where one of your characters is obnoxiously dumb right up front means they assume this is his charcter and not just one poorly written chapter in a very dumb but very loveable characters life, likely because the writers hadn’t figured out how to properly scale his stupidity with comptience.

So as a result we get a good 3-4 mintutes if not agonizingly more of Launchpad assuming something he saw in a fucking movie film was real. That.. that’s his actual plot. Need I remind you, he’s in his late 20′s early 30′s. He’s not much older than me. While other episodes have him as dim this one claims he CAN’T TELL FACT FROM FICTION.

There are lines you have to keep with your characters to keep the audience from hating them. They crossed it about 80 times with this plot and make Launchpad into a gibbering dunderhead who can’t do anything right versus a regular dunderhead whose good at one or two things and loveable enough for us to like him and not care about his numerous safey violations and child endagerment charges. Thankfully this is the ONLY episode that gets this bad and they clearly learned from this, but it dosen’t make it any less of a tough sit.

Dewey spends most of the subplot with a look on his face that just screams that he’s as done with this bullshit as we are, as Launchpad assumes he’s a mole person and brought along a pipe to presumibly bludgeon him, because wanting to cave his best friends skull in over stupidity is a GREAT look> Thankfuly he does not. And when the lights come back on Launchpad.. assumes he’s a monster because of bright light, GAH, and locks him out before they end up outside and the plto resolves itself by Dewey pointing out by Launchpad’s utterly baffling logic that he could be a mole monster, so Launchpad.. assumes he is.

The subplot’s later buttoned up as he claims “I love being a mole monster”, again diffrent subteranian creature launchpad, she says he’s not and my suffering is thankfully at an end. This plot just sucks, it’s bad, overly stupid and dosen’t work with an adult character. Someone like say Ed from Ed, Edd N Eddy, or someone who belivies in weird conspiracy stuff like Dale Gribble or Stan Pines. with either of them this plot would’ve been fucking great. I could buy it from Dale and it just comes off as his normal paranoid weirdness. With Launchpad it comes off like he seriously needs help because the episode frames it as if he can’t tell ficton from reality, and his splotlight episode later would directly contridct this and make this episode even more aggrivating, as he’s a fan of Darkwing Duck, and KNOWS it’s acted out by an actor, so why wouldn’t he get this? It’s just....

It sucks, it sucks and I thankfully get to move on to a better subplot

Beakly and Lena: What You Are in the Dark

Beakly tells Lena she’ll never see Webby again after this.. then chastises her when she won’t help despite you know having just said she’s going to force their friendship apart, which Lena points out. She then gets mad at Lena making a sarcastic comment at her. Okay she’s lived with Louie for at least a week in airing order and a month or two in actual order. She has to be used to this by now. She’s insolent.. because you show her no respect, blame her for something that while sure she talked you into, you should’ve known better, and top it off by saying you want to keep her from the kids because they have bright futures and come from good familes and asks who rasied her and her face.. well.

Yeah wheras Launchpad and Huey, more on that in a second, were hurt by this being some of their earliest big roles, Bentina wasn’t.. until later when we found out just HOW bad Magica is to Lena and how much she dosen’t care about her other than as a tool to use. At this point we didn’t know just how much Lena was playing webby, how much she was only manipulating her, and even with her heroic act here we didn’t know if she only saw Webby as her way to break free. The next episode makes it clear she dosen’t and genuinely does care, 100%, so in hindsight it makes Bentina come off as ghoulsih for horribly asssuming about a girl she dosen’t know, and even if she did know about Magica wouldn’t know the full story, just like us, and then BERATING her after already saying she’s going to rip her away from Webby, which itself is PRETTY bad as she’s the only friend the girl has and sh’es doing so on... talking them into a horror movie, which as I outlined was more Bentina’s fault than Lena’s, and leading the kids into a dangerous place whicha gain, Lena pointed out is something she lets Scrooge do. And trust me i know that she actually knows Scrooge, and we later find out, as we’ll cover next month, that she isn’t ware HOW dangerous things are with Scrooge. It dosen’t change the fact she knows they do dangerous stuff to a point and that Lena may just be acting out. It also dosen’t change the fact she drove three children, yes including launchpad, down here with her instead of sending them home with Launchpad.. granted that option isn’t the safest but it’s safer than taking her with them thena cting like it’s ALL lena’s fault when three of the children, again including launchpad, are down there because of HER. Not Lena, HER. I’m harder on her because she’s older, wiser and was “raised properly” apparently. Though given the way she treats a random teen off the street she again knows nothing about and dind’t bother to ask... it begs the question.

IT’s a good question. I could see the classism coming from being raised in 40′s and 50′s britain, judging by the timeline.. but even then she’s seen the world, and while her nature is supscious, the classit bullshit makes no sense after presumibly working with, and later spymastering for, various agents of various backgrounds. How has she not dropped this in decades. Scrooge very clearly dropped the racisim and homophobia of his time, so it still stands on her for not dropping this. And Lena’s hurt shows under hte mask for the first time, that beneath the snark and secrecy.. is just an abused teenager with nowhere else to go and no way out being bullied by an older woman whose cutting off the only light at the end of the tunnel nto for good reason but out of classist, overprotective mallice. My issues, which to be fair probably were intentional in the episode but sitll are a bit overblown, aside we do get an absoluttley tremendous moment later as a car falls on top of Beakly.. and Magica, speaking once more urges Lena to leave her, let her die and let their plans progress. And while that iself is.. dumb, what if someone finds her or her corpse later, especially since Scrooge would likely perosnally want to retrive the body to give her a proper burial as she’s his only friend at this point, or the rest of the family questoin the story?, it fits Magica’s lack of foresight we see throughout the season. But Lena... saves her. While she later gives an explination, and a valid one at that, it’s clear from her expressoin, her actoins and how she does it... that this is her. Part of it is defiance, as she glares at Magica before doing it, her own stubborn nature mixed with her hatred of her “aunt”, meaning Magica just made it all too easy for her to do this. But the real reason is clear: It’s the right thing to do. While pissing off her aunt and getting away with it is the cherry on top.. the real reason is that unlike Magica.. Lena is not a killer, not a monster, and not a heartless vacum ofa person. Even if she doesn’t like Beakly, for good reason.. she can’t, she WON’T leave her to die and leave Webby an orphan again. She loves Webby too much to do that to her and while she may deny it.. she’s too good a person to leave someone to die for something so petty. Even if she never sees webby again and the plans ruined. It’s better than the weight of knowing she let someone who wasn’t trying to harm her and whose actions, while terrible, were out of misguided protection of her granddaughter, die like this. She saves her. And as we’ll see it pays off.. but before that.

Huey, Webby and Louie: Into the Unknown This plot’s a bit shorter, as Webby and Huey continue their argument, with Louie eventually making it clear, and not even hiding it when directly asked by Huey, that he’s playing both sides with a delighted expression on his face as the movie was boring but this, this is interesting. Which it is. But it’s interupted by dings on the roof and while Huey assumes i’ts just a regular rock, it moves while their not lookiung.. and soon red eyed, horrifying beasts look out at them and the kids flee back to the car. This dosen’t pan out as the car starts to shake and is clearly going to collapse.. and while Webby and Louie are prepared to flee, rock monsters or no, Huey, in an utterly heart shattering image.. stays in place, terrified of moving.

This is where this plot goes from mildly aggrivating, as Huey’s Skeptic shenanigans can get on the nerves.. to BRILLIANT. See at the time this was more annoying because it was assumed the skepticsim would be a part of Huey’s character and we’d get more episodes of him being annoying only to be proven wrong, as he semeingly dosen’t learn his lesson at this point, looging the terrafrimians in the guide book. But on rewatch.. this plot is amazing. For starters the plot subtly introduced the defening characteristic of Huey’s personality, one that’s become more prounounced in Season 3: His need for Order. He needs things to make sense: He solves stuff because he likes there to be order in the world and something he can understand, he can put in a box in his head. Like a lot of neurotypical people, myself included, he struggles horribly when the clearly defined boxes of his life and things he undestand have wrinkles or complexities he can’t get. I for instnace easily got it when I was introduced to the concept of trans people or being non binary.. they just make sense in hindsight: given how our brains are messya nd complicated it makes sense some people would be born in the wrong ones, and tht with all the science and medicine we have to correct that, should be allowed to transition if they so choose. It makes equal sense that some people just don’t have a gender or are gender fluid, being both or neither. Despite struggling with non binary prounouns due to force of habit.. I get the concept with no real difficulty. But when it comes to accepting I don’t have to apologize for everything and that everyone is not angry or that anger is natural and people sometimes get mad and you can’t and shouldnt’ fix it.. it’s something I STRUGGLE with even knowing it’s not right, because my brain is just wired that way.

That’s how Huey’s struggle comes off here.. he reveals he’s willing to stay and die.. because he’s SO scared of the unknown, that the idea of dying from something he at least knows what it is versus something he dosen’t.., so paralizyed by his own brain he can’t figure out the obvious.. it takes Webby reaching out to him figuratively and literally, to show him that sometimes you have to face the unknown. The unknown is fucking terrifying.. but it can be good and it’s better than sitting there, scared and unable to move. You have to try, to grow and take that risk that things may not go well to really LIVE.

So he does.. and they reunite with the rest of the group.. and soon find the terrafirmains.. who as it turns out once we get some light on them... are actually just goofy looking, brightly colored, each one matching one of the kids, kids themselves, and Huey reaches out and touches one, which by ET logic means their friends now, and the terrafirmians help them get out. And this lesson sticks. While sure Huey catalogues it and it seems it didn’t.. he’s never this skeptical again. This douchey skepticsim was only for one episode, his fear of the uknown replcaed with boundless curosity and from here on he’s CURIOUS about new stuff as long as it’s not trying to kill him. He loves taking in new experinces, maybe not to webby levels but he does actually try them and study them instead of just fearing them.

Before we wrap things up, obviously we need to talk about the JWG not having entries on a lot of stuff. This would be corrected next season as it returns to being a big book of everything, but dosen’t completely contridct this as Timephoon! shows there’s stillcgaps.. which i’m fine with. While it knowing EVERYTHING was fine for the original series here, with things being slightly more groudned, it’d just be an obvious plothole if Huey didn’t use it every single time they ran into something and that’d get boring. Instead it’s simply that it dosen’t know everything, and really in the comics at times it didn’t and the triplets found out new things. It knew almost everything mind you, but having some gaps for dramatic tnesion is fine with me and Seasons 2 and 3 decided on that instead of just having it being a scouting manual which wa sfor the best. And even by later in the season hit has guides to getting a small buisness loan, so they already course corrected.

So everything’s wrapped up and while Magica berates Lena for disobeying her.. Beakly interputps, thankfully not seeing magica and admits she was wrong and invites Lena for pancakes, even taking a crack about if their actually pancakes or english muffins with syrup, which sounds like my own living hell, in stride, having clearly grown. And Lena explains to Magica that this was the better approach: now she’s got the in theyw anted, and is above suspcison for now. Still not so much that an obvious act won’t be detected but enough that she dosen’t ahve to work actively around her anymore. Magica scoffs.. and while part of it is probably rage.. part of it is deep down both of them know she did it out of defiance.. and only Lena knows that she did it for the right reasons... she just dosen’t get why. She probably justifies it as playing the long game.. but deep down she knows something’s changing about her.. and she’s not sure if that’s a godo thing or not.

Final Thoughts: This episode is as you can tell a mixed bag. It’s 2/3 of a good episode, with the Lena plot, my issues aside, being excellent and the Terra-Firmian plot likewise fun, even if Huey can get grating the payoff is worth it, and the jokes are really high quality. It’s just bogged down by that fucking launchpad plot that just crushed my soul in it’s palms every time it came back. I went on at length why i hated that one but boy oh boy was the hate of that subplot warranted and I stand by calling it the worst plot of the series. It is: it’s not funny, it makes no goddamn sense, and it drags down what’s otherwise a pretty solid epsiode.

Next Time on Lena: Jaws the shark, lurking in the dark, in the depths of the bin one day of a lark decides to get rowdy, get real violent takes a vacay out to Duckburg er.. Island.. also Scrooge faces his greatest Nemesis.. a PR Tour to clean up his image after an unfortunate giant Beanstalk Incident. Be there and be hip to be square.

Next Time on This Blog: I Tackle a DCOM for the first time for another commissioned review as we take a look at racisim, specifically Apartheid and breaking indoctrination, with The Color of Friendship. See you next Rainbow.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #lena sabrewing #webby vanderquack #weblena #bentina beakly #launchpad mcquack #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #terror of the terra-firmians!#disney channel #disney xd #disney plus #disney #disney ducks #comissions

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